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#nice to have a drama with bright lighting

ivestas · 1 year

Text

underlying bitterness

Summary: You were depressed. The family is quick to notice.

Tags: platonic!yandere!batfam x fem!reader, reader implied to be mentally ill, depression, coddling, isolation, etc (you know the drill)

Word count: 1.6k

Notes: temporarily back from the dead! decided to finish this since i had it collecting dust in my drafts LMAO---apologies for my lack of writing, i have several projects im combing through and school 😭

The manor never really was quiet; there was always something going on.

The only time the quiet came was when they were out for patrol, or when everyone was asleep—but even then, there always seemed to be a pervasive spirit of noise and life that, on a good day, didn’t bother you.

But today was a bad one. Today, everything was an unbearable stretch of life, a near-constant torment of both mind and soul, leaving you incapacitated by your own head.

It was these days where the bearable—hell, even the nice—was acidic on your gaunt body.

A knock on the door had you wearily raising your head.

A call of your name bounced through the door. The voice was bright and chirpy, downright dripping with honey. “You okay in there? Can I come in?”

Eleven minutes alone? New record.

You sighed. The question only had one answer.

“Yes, and yes.”

The door to your bedroom opened silently, barely a squeak from the hinges. Dick revealed himself with a giant dopey grin, Damian just a step behind him.

You didn’t bother smiling. “Hey.”

“Hi!” Bright as always, his movement carried an excitable sway, acting more like a kid than a 20-something bonafide detective/vigilante. There was something predatory about it, an inherent layer of manipulative intent with it that never left you at ease.

At least Damian was always himself, the deep-set frown never leaving his face in anyone’s presence, including yours.

You would’ve been inclined to like him had it not been for the palpable softness that eased the furrows of his brows.

Shifting under the heavy blankets, you pat the other side of the bed, the movement practiced and learned. Routine.

Damian was the one to take the invitation while Dick sat at the end of your side. He rarely sat there. You didn’t care to decipher his intentions, merely regarding him with the same placidity as you had before.

“So..?”

“The family’s noticed you’ve been off lately?”

Ah.

You shifted some more, feeling the weight of their stares assess every micro-movement made. It wasn’t subtle. This was an interrogation, not their self-indulgent visits that had you puking right after.

“I’m on my period,” you responded bluntly.

“Your cycles aren’t during this time of month.” Dick’s voice was deceptively light.

"Hm, well, the female body works in mysterious ways.”

“Then I’m gonna go check the washroom garbage.”

The silence of your mind buzzed to life. “What?”

“I’m gonna go check the washroom garbage.” He repeated, rising from the bed.

What the fuck.

You could let him go and find out for himself that you were, indeed, lying. However, you weren’t in the mood to deal with the punishments that came with that...

...Though, regardless, you were going to be punished. Lying—especially to Dick of all people—never bode you well.

Really, maybe you just weren’t in the mood to deal with the drama, the stormy face he’ll don when he walks out the washroom after finding out the lie.

So you sighed tiredly, back sinking further into the thick pillow. “I lied.”

Dick’s pleasant expression flickered. Damian’s stare deepened in its calculating weight.

Dick spoke slowly. “You know what happens when you lie.”

You sighed again. It bordered a scoff. “Hurry up with it then.”

The smile turned to a neutral line, though you knew he was feeling anything than neutral. Dick loathed lies, but he kept a calm voice. “Why’ve you been off lately?”

“I lied, Dick. Aren’t you supposed to do what you usually do? Neglect and all.” You were flippant. This was gonna make it worse, and at this point you knew better, you always tried to avoid this, but something was possessing you.

A will, or more accurately, a lack thereof.

“Just tell him,” Damian hissed.

You glanced at him, unimpressed. “No.”

Dick breathed slowly. “Why?”

“Because you’ll make me feel bad for it.”

He blinked. Surprised.

Why was he surprised? Is this another manipulation tactic?

Probably. Why did you even bother trying to decipher his intentions? Their intentions?

“You’ll make it about you guys. How bad you guys feel. How you want the best for me.” You yawned. “I’m not in the mood to humor that. Pull that some other time, I just need to recuperate. Touch bases with my soul and all that hippie shit.” Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “Okay?”

A pause thickened the tension in the air tenfold.

Then, it was Damian who spoke. “You’re..?”

“Depressed.” Dick finished, mild disbelief lacing his words. What stood out was the underlying offended tone the word wore.

You didn’t bother responding, keeping your eyes shut, pulling the covers over your chin. It was only midday, but you were tired.

“Why are you... ‘depressed’?” Damian was the one to speak, now with incredulity.

“Why is the sky blue?” You muttered.

Cold fingers brushed your cheek, a colder voice poking through. “Open your eyes when you talk.”

You did as told, looking up at him from your curled position. “Why are you depressed?” He repeated with a voice of iron.

“It doesn’t matter,” you responded. “None of it does. I’ll be better soon. I just need you to give me space.”

Another pause.

Then, uncharacteristically, Damian slipped away. He glanced over where Dick was.

Dick, even more uncharacteristically, nodded and slipped away, walking with Damian out the room.

In any other circumstance, your blood would run cold.

But, at that moment, you were thankful for the temporary relief.

-----

You hadn’t thought you’d sleep, but you did, only to be awaken by Tim.

“Dinner’s ready.” He said, eyes burning into yours.

You grunted, tossing the sheets away. The cold raked your body. Getting off the bed, you glanced out the barred window.

Sunset.

How long did you sleep?

And how come they let you sleep for so long, undisturbed?

You didn’t care to wonder. Blearily nodding to Tim, you tipped your head to the washroom. “I’m gonna clean up a little, give me a—”

“You look fine, just come.” His hand, now wrapped tightly around your wrist, left no room for complaint.

Faintly sighing, you nodded again. He led you out the room and through the colder corridors of the manor, down several staircases and past various pillars and paintings you’re always surprised to see, as if you hadn’t been housed in the manor for two-something years.

Two years.

730 days wasted here.

730 days, never to be recovered.

Your chest tightened, but your heart was empty.

Pushing the thought away, you blankly focused on the outstretched dining table you’d eaten countless meals on.

Tim said your name.

You look at him, confused.

“Sit?”

Oh. Right.

You slipped onto the chair, vaguely aware of your surroundings.

“...That’s my seat.”

“Sorry,” you moved to get up, but his hands pressed down on your shoulders.

“No, it’s fine, I’m just surprised. That’s all. You’re usually pretty attentive.”

“Sorry,” you repeated.

Tim didn’t respond, opting to sit beside you.

You were vaguely aware of the rest of the family settling in their respective positions—Bruce sitting at the head on your left, Dick sitting across you with Damian to his right, and at the end of the table Jason settled with a tired huff.

What you were fully aware of however was how good the food. The aroma was thick and savory, leaving your mouth to water

Raising a fork, you dug into the food.

“How was your day?” Bruce was the one to break the silence, and you notice him looking at you.

“It was good,” you mumbled around the food.

A silence cradled the room for a moment, the clanks of silverware mute.

“Was it?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“What, is there a right answer to this?” You were daring, careless with your tongue. “Should’ve given me a textbook, woulda studied real hard before coming down.”

“The right answer is the truth,” Jason spoke up, mouthful of food. “Dickie’s all red and angry you can’t even tell the truth. Honestly? So am I.”

“We all are,” Tim murmured.

“But you know? We care for you. So just tell us what’s up, yeah?” Although his voice was light, there was an underlying threat to Jason’s words. Tell us or else.

You set the fork down and looked at Bruce—whose eyes were sweeping all over your face, calculating—the both of you having frowns tugging at your lips. “Okay. I feel like shit. A dumpster fire. Like my very body has been corrupted by dark—I don’t know exactly what that means, but I feel it, so worth mentioning, right?—anyway, all I ask is to be left alone for a bit. That is what will make my mind better. Just a day of quiet. Please?”

“...Voluntary isolation is a sign of clinical depression,” Bruce began. “And that would do you no good. What you need is the support of family to help you through this illness.”

“God, no—”

“Listen.” Damian hissed.

You shut your mouth, eyes downcast.

“What will happen is every night, you talk to Dick about whatever’s bothering you. Or anyone else. You will talk, and that will help. Anything you need, just tell them; you know this.”

“Why not get an actual therapist?”

“You can’t trust all therapists,” Dick jumped in. “I’ve trained in psychology, I know all the therapy ins-and-outs. I can help you as well as any licensed one would—if not, better!”

You stifled a sigh but didn’t bother pushing saying anything.

“You don’t look to happy about that,” Dick commented. “It’s okay. I know its hard to open up when you’ve suffered in silence for so long, but we’re all on your side, okay?”

Jesus.

You looked down at the food, picking up the fork. It took you everything not to bash your head against the table.

#yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #batfam x reader #batman x reader

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just-jordie-things · 1 year

Note

Hi hi, just so yk i absolutely love you.

If you havent already do you think you could do how jjk men would propose to you (or just gojo i dont mind)

thanks :)

yes i need to be wifed up by these men :3

GOJO SATORU

contrary to popular belief, i don't think satoru would go all out with a fancy restaurant and a huge public display. i think the proposal itself is going to be so casually intimate that it throws you totally off guard when he does it. i'm also convinced that he'd surprise himself when he proposes too.

with both of you having a free night (a rarity!) he'd suggested that you order takeout, sit on the couch in your pajamas, and watch the soapy drama you liked that he had also gotten hooked on.

while he goes to pick up the food, you're at home making the living room the coziest place in the house. he'd only tasked you with grabbing your favorite blankets for the sofa, but you thought it'd be nice to throw up some fairy lights rather than use the too-bright living room lamp. it wasn't much extra work, but it definitely added to the atmosphere.

so when you're boyfriend returned home with your food, he was quite surprised at the romantic, cozy setting you'd created for you two. and maybe it was the dim twinkling of your beloved fairy lights, but there was just something about you that made you glow. and the little box that had carried around for two months now never felt heavier in his pocket.

your back was turned as you washed your hands, babbling on that it was always a special occasion when you both had a night off, and what better to make it special than some string lights and a bottle of wine, and satoru could barely focus on a thing you were saying, too focused on the velvet box in his hand and how he just had to stop carrying it around.

when you turn around to find him on one knee and a twinkling diamond outstretched towards you, there's a squeal of excitement that gets caught in your throat as your shock chokes you up instantly.

"that's- that's a ring? that's an engagement ring? for getting engaged? you want to be engaged? you want to marry me?"

you're speaking so fast that you're stammering, and satoru can't help but laugh a little at your total state of surprise.

"you gotta let me ask, sweetheart-"

"yes!" you've leapt into his arms, almost sending him to the floor at the sudden impact. "yes! yes! yes!"

satoru blinks, holding tight to the small box in his hand, afraid that your erratic movements might knock it out of his hold. although he can't complain as you shower his face in kisses, strawberry lipgloss smearing everywhere you can reach.

"i don't know what people are talking about," he teases as he finally presents you with the ring, sliding it perfectly over your finger. "that was easy"

for the rest of the night, your attention is caught between him, and the sparkling jewelry sitting on your finger. ___

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

megumi, sweet, romantic, adorable megumi, is a fucking disaster.

if he'd had it his way, he would have proposed to you months ago. but it had taken him far too long to settle on a ring (none of them were good enough for you!!) and then of course he had to have a whole plan for the actual proposal. and again, he ran into the same problem. nothing seemed good enough.

where would he even do it? your favorite restaurant that you two frequented so often the staff knew your orders? in the comfort of your home during a quiet moment? the beach at sunset? should he order a pair of doves to release at the exact moment he dropped to one knee?

safe to say, megumi is overthinking the hell out of it. even though he had the ring and knew in his heart he wanted to marry you, and that's what really mattered, he just wanted it all to be perfect for you. he wanted you to be so swept away by it all that you'd remember it forever as a picture perfect memory. he wanted to portray every ounce of love he had for you in this one moment, so you'd never forget how he felt.

noticing that megumi had been on edge for a few weeks now, when a nice night came along and you both had the evening free, you asked him to take a walk with you. megumi wants to stay home and work on the massive speech he was preparing for you, but he's practically incapable of saying no to you, so that's how he finds himself walking hand in hand with you under the stars.

it's a surprisingly warm fall night in Tokyo, with just enough of a breeze here and there to tousle your hair around your shoulders. you both comment you're not sure when the weather had been more perfect.

you're looking at the stars and talking about your days, complaining just a little about an assignment he had coming up that would take him overseas for a few weeks, but megumi tells you he doesn't want to dwell on the future too much, and instead focus on the present.

you giggle.

"i can't help but think of the future when it comes to you," you're teasing, but the words are so sweet that megumi's heart melts a little. "is it so bad i want us to be together all the time?" you stick your tongue out at him playfully.

he squeezes your hand.

"careful what you wish for" he half-jokes back.

again, you laugh, and when he looks at you, there's a warm smile on our lips and a sparkle in your eyes that makes him forget about the cloudless night. staring at you still made his face feel warm, even after all this time together.

"i wish on every shooting star that i can spend forever with you," you tell him, dropping your teasing tone for a softer one.

megumi's heart is officially melted into mush, victim again to your ruthless loveliness.

"you're my favorite person in the whole world," you continue, your smile only brightening when you see a blush rise to his cheeks. "I love you, 'gumi"

he stops walking, and you show no irritation or confusion as he stands before you, staring at you with nothing but adoration.

"you really mean that?" he asks, his voice more of a mumble than he means to be, but with his heart coming back to life and pounding in his ears, it's hard to speak clearly.

"of course" your voice is nothing but genuine, punctuated with an affirming, curt nod of your head.

you effectively make him throw every plan in his mind out the window, and he's speaking before he can even realize this.

"marry me"

his voice is still a whisper, but it's clear nonetheless.

your smile drops as your lips part, and your eyes rounding, unblinking in your surprise.

with his free hand, he reaches into his pocket, and retrieves a black velvet box, only solidifying that he meant what he said.

your eyes travel from the box in his palm, to his again. he chuckles at your frozen features, before pushing the box towards you.

"open it" he murmurs.

as though willed by his command, you reach for it, and flick the top open. there sat the prettiest ring you've ever seen in your life, just your size and just your style. your eyes well with tears, both from the overwhelming happiness and the fact you haven't blinked.

you blink now to will the waterworks to stop from coming.

"what do you think?" megumi asks, his heart thrumming in his chest harder the longer you stand in stunned silence. "forever?"

your lips split into a wide grin, before you lean up to press your lips against his passionately. you're both smiling into the kiss, which makes it a little messy, but you're holding onto each other so tightly and your hearts are beating in sync that it's the most beautiful kiss you've ever shared.

when you finally part, your tears have slipped down your cheeks. megumi wipes them away before helping you try the ring on.

"i love it," you admire how perfect the jewelry sat on your finger. "i love you"

"i love you too, favorite person" he hums, kissing the crown of your head as you're still distracted by the ring.

"i'll have to think of a new wish now" you tell him as your hands intertwine again and you continue your walk.

"i'll make that one come true, too" he winks at you, sending the both of you into a giggling fit. ___

OKKOTSU YUUTA

yuuta had thought about proposing for a long time. he's known he's wanted to marry you since pretty early on in your relationship actually, he's a total romantic like that, but your lives are pretty chaotic so he holds it in and makes himself wait until the timing is right.

even still, it's not exactly a huge ordeal.

you were both lounging, reading your books in near silence together, but it was comfortable. at some point you went from sitting on the couch beside him to laying in his lap, propping your book above your face. he'd been more than happy to be a little more cuddly, his fingers playing with your hair while he continued to read.

but it didn't take long for him to get distracted, until he completely forgot about the book in his hand and was just staring down at you while you read.

yuuta liked watching you read, he even asked you to read to him sometimes. you always seemed the most at peace, your features soft until something exciting happened in the plot. he could almost guess what was happening in your story depending on your face. if something romantic or steamy happened you would blush, if there was a betrayal or major character death your mouth would hang open and our eyes would flit across the page a little faster, and if your favorite pairing had a tragic ending, you'd always be teary eyed. yuuta thought you were just so pretty when you were lost in a book.

he's not sure how long he'd sat there staring at you without you noticing, but you'd turned the page a few times now, too immersed to even feel his gaze.

maybe he shouldn't have sprung such a question on you out of seemingly nowhere, but he couldn't help himself. you were so pretty, and so comfortable with him, that he could pass away and float off into the sky right here. so he speaks his mind freely.

"i want to marry you"

it comes out in a dreamy sigh, and you think he's just being a softie and messing with you, so you giggle, not even looking away from the page you were on.

"sure you do, sweetheart," you murmur, shaking your head just a little. "you just bein' sweet to me because your leg's fallen' asleep?" you ask in a hum.

"no, i mean it," yuuta declares. "i want to marry you. i want to get married to you," he clarifies as if he wasn't already perfectly clear, but you obviously think he's playing a joke on you.

finally, you drop your book, holding it to your chest as you stare at him, studying his features just to be sure he's genuine.

"i want to move in together and decorate our place together and be together all the time," he continues, the lovesickness in his heart reaching his brain and making it all hazy with adoration as he stares at you. "i want to plan a wedding together and invite all our friends and your family and i want everyone to see us get married, and we'll have a huge party after and we can dance together all night. and then when it's over we can go back to our own place, together, and i'll be your husband and you'll be my wife"

your cheeks are gaining more color with every word he speaks. it's more romantic than any book, or any piece of poetry you've ever read.

"okay" you whisper.

"okay?"

"okay," you repeat, nodding your head as you move to sit up, just enough to bring your face to his. "i'll marry you"

his soft smile is replaced with a face splitting grin, excitement flooding through him in an instant.

"really?" he asks, cupping your face in his hands as his eyes flicker between yours eagerly. you laugh, nodding your head.

"yeah, really" you tell him, and you've barely finished speaking before he's slamming his lips to yours triumphantly.

your hands find his shoulders to steady yourself, because your heart was doing somersaults and the sensation was bound to make you dizzy.

yuuta's hands slide around your jaw when you pull away, his eyes half lidded as he admires every pretty feature of your face. he's so overcome with his love for you that he's ready to plan the wedding now.

"i'm thinking fall" he hums.

you hum in return.

"i think you better get me a ring first, lover boy" ___

INUMAKI TOGE

he says 'mustard leaf?' and you just know what he means. jk. but that would be funny, right?

toge actually spent a long time taking advice from his friends to find just the right way to propose to you. in a perfect world, he'd give you a long winded speech about how you light up his life with your angelic glow, but it's a little hard to translate that to onigiri ingredients, so he'll have to improvise.

panda suggests hiring a sky writer, but it turns out those are expensive. also maki had said that idea was corny and lame.

yuuta said that he should dim the lights, light some candles, play some soft music, and pop the question with some rose petals spelled out on the bed. toge liked this idea too, it was romantic and sensual, but again, maki had said this was lame.

gojo said he didn't even need words, and that he should take you to a fancy restaurant, and after dessert, make a whole display of getting on one knee. he'd claimed the action alone was enough to make his intentions clear, and you and everyone around you would know what was happening. toge thought that wasn't a bad idea either, it wasn't often that you two went on classier dates, so it would be special. once more, maki shot it down with a scoff, saying public proposals were tacky and annoying to those around them.

at this point, toge was annoyed and frustrated. every time he thought he'd found the right way to do it, she would shoot the idea down and tell him was terrible, and he was tired of hearing all the negativity without her actually telling him what he should do.

it's not until they've wrapped up an assignment together that he makes his irritation with her clear.

"you're upset that i don't want you to give (y/n) a shitty proposal?" she asks, raising a brow.

toge's frowning as he nods curtly at her. maki chuckles to herself.

"ikura" he curses under his breath. it does nothing to faze her.

"it's not that i don't want you to propose. i do. i know she'll say yes, you're soulmates," maki tells him the first nice thing he's heard her say in regards to his plan. "but you have to do it your way, dummy," she flicks his forehead to solidify her point. "it's gotta come from you. that's all that really matters, isn't it?"

oh, he thinks, finally realizing what she'd been trying to convey all this time.

"so, you know, just do what's right" she shrugs.

they're picked up at the airport by panda and yuuta, and of course, you. panda shows off the cool pikachu balloon he'd brought just for fun, and while maki's telling him that you're adults now and he really doesn't have to bring a balloon for every mission you all return from, you're jumping into your boyfriend's open arms and hugging him tightly.

"i missed you so much!" you tell him, followed by a sweet kiss once you pull away from the hug.

"salmon" the markings around toge's mouth are stretched out as he smiles back at you.

"how was it anyways? easy, huh?" you glance over him quickly to make note of any possible injury, but you don't find anything, and toge laughs to himself at your little routine every time he comes home from an assignment.

he places his hands on your shoulders, making you take a step back before he reaches into his pocket.

"a souvenir?" you grin when he produces a little box.

the black velvet makes you raise a brow. jewelry wasn't usually your thing, so it wasn't common for him to gift it to you.

the rest of your friends are standing around you with dropped jaws and pale faces. here? now? this is when he decides to pop the most important question in any relationship? was he for real?

"jewelry?" you asked, not picking up on the implication of the small size of the square box at all.

but then again, how could you? the guy is proposing to you in an airport, and it's not like he has words to help him.

toge nods, grinning ear to ear, and then reaches over to open the box to show you the sizable ring he'd picked out. your curious expression dropped to shock once you saw the diamond ring, finally getting what this was about.

"oh my god" yuuta mumbles, before smacking a hand over his mouth to keep any other commentary from coming out.

panda is hiding his face behind his paws, afraid that the lack of romantic display would cause you to awkwardly laugh and turn him down. he shifts around to peek through his fur so he could still see, though.

and maki is stunned frozen, just as you are right now, too curious to know what happens next to look away.

toge smiles at you, his free hand reaching forward and cupping your cheek, bringing your attention back to him. his lavender eyes are crinkled at their corners, before he leans forward to gently tap his forehead against yours.

there was more love in one soft gesture than he could have ever conveyed in words, you think. tears prick in your eyes as you stare back at him with your lips parted.

"i love you too," you murmur, your own hand resting over his, pressing your cheek further into the warmth of his palm. "of course i'll marry you"

your friends all sigh in relief before cheering for the both of you. yeah, they'd all been holding their breaths, but they really shouldn't have doubted toge, because you never have and you never will.

you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him happily, and when you pull away you're bouncing as you tell him to, "put the ring on me put the ring on me!"

you're huddled around with your friends, tucked into toge's side as you show off the ring he picked out, even though they'd already seen it because he'd dragged them with him when he was shopping for it. but it's worth it to see you excitedly show it off.

maki supposed the advice she'd given was perfect after all, even if toge took it in a pretty literal and immediate way. ___

not me getting butterflies writing these hehe

xoxo ~ jordie

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heckinconfusedparade · 2 months

Text

Woe! Sonic character headcanons be upon Ye!

Sonic:

- Learned how to cook while raising Tails and got really good at it

- Hedgehog Gordon Ramsay

- Can’t bake for shit tho

- Made up a lullaby that he sings to Tails to help him sleep. It’s been effective since the kit was 4

- In the warmer months, Sonic scouts out nice places for his annual picnic with Amy. He loves hanging out with her and enjoying sweets!

- Has a memorial for Chip with his necklace somewhere hidden

- Ran before he could walk

- Bothers Knuckles on Angel Island at least twice a week

- He and Shadow spar every week

- Bro has a bunch of Knick knacks and trinkets from his adventures

- Has a lazy day every once in a whilel

- He does vocal warm ups every morning as part of his little routine, even if he doesn’t plan on singing that day. It’s good to warm up before doing a lot of speaking!

Tails:

- He’s so sweet but so sassy

- Will sass a grown man to death

- Hugs people he really loves with his tails included

- He has a blacksmith place somewhere

- Had to have an intervention for his mint addiction (unsuccessful)

- His love language is gift giving! His gifts are one of a kind

- He made Shadow a gun for Christmas. It has bullets that explode on impact. It’s a tiny rocket launcher

- Used a chaos emerald to give a box Chaos Control so he can warp stuff back to his workshop

- the box defies logic, and he can fit literally anything in it

Amy

- If anyone insults or puts down her besties it’s ON SIGHT! EVEN IF ITS THE BESTIE SAYIN IT ABOUT THEMSELF (looking at you, TAILS)

- Refuses to let anyone go hungry. Angel to anemic and diabetic community!

- Spars with Knuckles to practice her hand to hand combat

- Meets up with Sonic in the coldest part of winter so they can hibernate together

- Loves her picnic dates with Sonic!

- Got Vanilla to homeschool Tails so at least the kid can have credentials to go into higher education in the future if he wants

- Loves thrift shopping! One man’s trash is this gals treasure!

- Crystal girl

- Shares Taylor Swift album theories with Shadow. They both go crazy for it

- She took Cream, Rouge, Blaze, and Sticks on a road trip. It was the most chaotic thing to hit the roads that summer.

Knuckles:

- is the reason a mountain has a giant crack in it

- vibe checks buildings for faulty wiring with his electro signal echidna stuff

- Bro moves the soil around his island to promote healthier plant life

- Bro is the single teen dad of many many many Chao

- Tries to leave the island whenever he can. He has a map of places that Sonic marked because they made him think of him!

- Taught Tails how to throw one hell of a punch and how to use his namesakes in combat

- Secretly looks forward to Rouge’s visits because he finds the sparring fun

Shadow:

- His room is usually only illuminated by a lamp because the sun shines directly in his window, and the ceiling light is too bright

- the lightbulb in the lamp changes colours. Rouge calls it his Mood Lamp

- If Sonic doesn’t show up to their weekly sparring, he gets concerned and indirectly searches for the dude. He’d rather die than admit he’s concerned tho

- Taylor Swift karaoke night with Amy

- Plays Project SEKAI

- Has a garden full of beautiful flowers dedicated to Maria. Amy and Sonic helped find flowers and seeds, and Knux provided the soil. They didn’t ask to get involved, nor were they asked, they just found out from Rouge and decided to help Shadow out

- He cannot fucking cook

- He cannot fucking bake

- There’s very few things he can actually make BUT HES LEARNING

- Learning to enjoy life as it happens. He’s stopping to smell the roses and appreciate what he has right now, and tries not to lament about the past or future

Rouge:

- Sometimes visits Angel Island just to bother Knuckles

- She has a pair of boots that has spikes on the toes

- Taught Tails how to steal

- She’s Cream’s favourite guest to bring to a tea party because of all the drama she brings with her.

- Is the reason Tails is a gossip

- She played Thief Simulator and had the greatest time ever

- Watched analysis videos of people trying to solve heists she committed

- Pretended not to listen when Amy infodumped to her about crystal energy, but she actually finds it very interesting

Omega:

- Trusts Tails with his life

- Because he can’t fit through doors or knock without breaking them, he stands outside the window waiting for someone to notice him outside

-or he just breaks the door anyway because why not

- Loves fireworks, wants to fire them on his own

- Absorbs every insult he hears Sonic make, as well as searches up on the internet to add to his database just so he can insult Eggman in a way that matters.

#I’ll make more another time idk #could be an empty promise #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #tails the fox #knuckles the echidna #amy rose #shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #sonic headcanons

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flamingpudding · 10 months

Text

Part 8 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

>>Masterpost

<<1 Previous Next

Ghost Cult Guides and Light Silhouettes

Duke had avoided the family drama that was brewing in the manor all day. In the morning he had been too tired to deal with the families usual drama when he had walked in on Dick having gotten bitten by a child that Damian appeared to take care and shined way to bright for him who had just gotten out of a sleepy daze, while Tim and Jason were laughing at the eldest expense.

Lunch he had the excuse by being in the library studying but now that it was dinner time he knew he couldn't avoid it any longer. It was time to see and face whatever craziness this family has gotten themselves into. He knew Bruce was home already but according to the group chat message from Dick the man had locked himself into his office and was brooding again.

The eldest made sure to tell them not to worry and that the reason would be explained by the family dinner Alfred was organizing and had invited everyone too. A must attend event and probably the reason why Dick was going to stay longer in Gotham than he had originally planned.

Well, that was going to be a whole other dinner to go through once everyone was available. For now, he was hopeful in for a nice and calm dinner.

Sitting down at the table he was sort of surprised to find that he was the only one there yet.

"Alfred?" He asked carefully as the butler placed down plates for the others. "Where are the others?"

"Master Jason is attempting to avoid Master Tim, who is very insistent in finding out Master Jason's connection to an occult. Master Damian is currently showing Master Danyal the barn, and Master Richard is still talking to Master Bruce."

Duke nodded. Okay, that's fine. Wait Danyal? Was that the kid he had gotten a bright glimpse of this morning? "Who is Danyal?"

Alfred only smiled softly and Duke couldn't help but wonder, not realizing that Alfred didn't answer his question at all as Jason made his entrance and unceremoniously plopped down in a chair by the end of the table looking like a mix between annoyed and tired.

"Jason! You did not just walk out on me like that! I need to know why you can read these occult sigils!"

Tim stormed in right after aggressively pointing at an open page in the book he was holding. So that was the occult thing Alfred mentioned. Looked like Tim had been pestering Jason all day about that considering how obsessed the other could become with cases.

"For the last time I have never been in a ghost cult!" For a second Duke wondered how many times 'last time' had been said considering the tired and frustrated look Jason was giving Tim. It was strange anyway to see Jason still in the manor if he was this frustrated with the other and Bruce was home too.

Their arguing was sort of amusing so Duke kept quiet and listened to them arguing, wondering how long it would take for them to notice him. Considering, Tim even took the seat right next to him. At least this way he could get a sneak peak of the book Tim was referencing here.

[...Ruler of the realm connecting the universes together supported by the ghosts of ancient time. The sigils covering the artifacts are what keeps their presence in our dimension. A circle created from chalk with the sigils spelling in our known language 'Oh Ruler of the other side, Soul of the old, Ancient of War, King of the Realms. I plead to you to hear my calling' will have a summoning success of 40% and sacrifices no longer… ]

Duke side eyed Tim and decided Steph was never to find out about that book. It was bad enough that whatever the other was working on had him reading a book like that. Duke didn't need Steph to read it and to decide that they all try one of the summoning the book apparently listed. Worst case Tim would go fully along with this in support of whatever he was working on. What did get him this obsessed with…. Duke eyed the book title… 'Ghost Cult 101 How to properly communicate with the other side'.

Yea, he did not want to get involved with that but knowing his luck he would anyway. Just as Duke looked away ready to focus his attention on something else, since the two arguing still hadn't noticed his presence, he had to cover his eyes as a freaking brightness entered his vision of the dining room that had him groaning.

"I need sunglasses." He muttered apparently loud enough for everyone to notice as he covered his eyes with his hands and desperately blinked at the darkness they provided.

"Dude you okay?"

"No."

"Danyal, wait!"

He heard someone chirp and for a second he wondered if the others were pulling a prank on him or making fun of him until he felt a small hand pulling on him. Carefully he peaked through his fingers and blinked.

The brightness was reduced and not as strong as it had been earlier. He looked at where a small hand was pulling on him and came face to face with a mini version of Damian with glowing green eyes and also noting the dimmed glow around the kid. Before he could even ask who that kid was, he noticed the light forming a silhouette behind the kid.

"What?" Unconsciously he patted the kids head as he stared at the light silhouette that definitely looked like the Damian he knew. The Silhouette sort of looked sheepish and seemed apologetic to him.

"Thomas?" / "Duke?" He ignored Tim and Damian too focused on the figure. Not even noticing how Damian was next to him looking every bit ready to pull the kid away, he was still patting uncousciously, eyeing him carefully. While Tim was closely observing them.

"How the hell is that kid not hissy with him? Or even attempting to bite him?!" Jason on the other hand complained loudly standing and leaning with his hands on the table.

"Duke, what do you see?"

Before he could even answer, the silhouette made a shushing sign and grinned before disappearing. The light it formed returned to the kid that blinked at him now with blue eyes and Duke blinked back at the kid stunned.

"Um, who is that kid?" He asked in return very confused by what he just saw turning to look at the others for answers. Ignoring that he did not answer Tim's question earlier. Whatever that was, it wanted him to stay quiet about it by the looks of it.

Duke would wait for an explanation of who that Damian look-a-like child was, before deciding if he should tell the others or not.

Suddenly he felt a sting on his fingers and he yelped attention returning to the boy he had been patting and finding the kid nibbling on his finger with sharp teeth giving him an annoyed look.

"Danyal! No, what did I tell you about biting others?" Damian was instantly by the kids' side taking them away from him and seating the boy on the other side of the table.

"What the fuck?! That wasn't even a full bite? Where is the hissing and biteyness?!"

"What?" Rubbing the finger that got nibbled at he stared at the others. "He bites?"

"Normally yes. Maybe he just finds Jason to be the tastier chewtow. We should test it out if he will bite you again." Tim seemed interested and amused at the same time as he studied the kid that now sat quietly on the opposite of Duke. The kids sole focus was now on Jason with a strange clint again, was the boy even blinking?

"Drake, stop wanting Danyal to bite others or suggest them as bait for my brother."

"Wait Brother?"

All three turned to him and Damian opened his mouth to say something as Dick entered the room looking exhausted but smiled when he saw them. Wasn't he supposed to just have a talk with Bruce? Did that art out into one of their famous fights?

"Oh hey Duke. Looks like you meet our youngest brother teethling Danny already!" The eldest walked over to them and reached out a hand to pat the kid sitting next to Damian. Duke watched with a sweat drop how the boy's head instantly turned to Dick hissing and bearing his teeth and snapping them in his direction and causing the oldest to pout.

"I guess I have." He slowly offered as an answer, still very much confused, knowing that he needed a little bit more of an explanation from them. He heard a sigh next to him and turned to Tim.

"You were asleep by then. But Jason got attacked by a child-"

"I did not."

"-last night and that child turned out to be Damian's brother."

"So Bruce has another blood child." Well that also explained why the kid looked so much like Damian and most likely also why Bruce wasn't here but, according to Dick, was brooding in his office.

"So is the kid a meta?" He tried to ask carefully but that was not very easy and considering the light show he had gotten earlier it was either that or the boy harbored some other big secret.

"Why do you ask?"

His eyes went to the boy that was still hissing at Dick sitting at the edge of his chair closest to Damian not paying any of them any attention at all it seemed.

"The kid glows or it had a pretty bright glow earlier now it's more dimmed. Easier on my eyes too." That was probably the safest to say, he still wasn't sure if he should tell them about the Damian look-a-like light silhouette.

"Well…" Tim started carefully, clearly looking for the right words.

"Danyal died when he was eight and apparently got revived and severely contaminated by Lazarus Water." Damian stared at him and Duke couldn't help but straighten under the stare and gulped. "Thomas, what did you see earlier?"

There was really no hiding anything from this family, well he didn't put that much effort into it either. He mentally apologized to the light silhouette as he glanced at the still hissing child before turning his attention to the others.

Not noticing the small flicker of green as Danny's eyes looked at him just as quickly before turning back to Dick and his offending hand that still tried to pat him.

"There was a light figure right behind the little guy. It looked exactly like Damian, though thinking about it now its hair had a different cut and they looked like they were wearing a hazmat suit with a logo on the front."

"Just to clarify. The spirit looked the same age as Damian?" Tim further questioned and Duke nodded.

"Do you think that could be a manifestation of Danny's actual age?" Dick asked withdrawing his hand from the boy who in turn finally stopped hissing turning his attention to the food that Alfred placed down before the child.

"His actual age?"

"As I said before, Thomas. Danyal died at the age of eight. That was eight years ago. If he had lived he would be the same age as me right now." The formerly youngest explained, his attention split between watching the child next to him and their discussion.

Duke gapped, ready to ask more but then Alfred placed a plate before him and smiled at them all, the kind of smile that had all of them stiffening.

"I believe further discussion in regards to Master Danyal's situation can wait until after dinner, yes?"

They all agreed and focused on the meal that had been prepared for them. Well Duke guessed any further questions he had, could wait until after dinner espacially with the way Alfred was making sure they ate.

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nayziiz · 3 months

Text

Team Dynamics | LN4

Summary: To celebrate the launch of their 2024 car for the upcoming F1 season, McLaren hosts a masquerade gala event that sees two souls connect and lead to a whirlwind romance. Unfortunately, the pair realise soon after that they are to work together quite closely after they agreed it would only be a one-night thing.

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, one night stand, unprotected sex

Pairing: Gemma (I don't like writing with Y/N or reader) x Lando Norris

Series Masterlist

PART 1

Gemma, with a noticeable waddle in her step, turns a corner, seeking refuge from the lively atmosphere that surrounds her. As she enters the quiet corridor, a sense of relief washes over her, and she releases a heartfelt sigh. The toll of the night is evident in her tired feet, which ache from hours of navigating the bustling venue, and her head throbs with the echoes of the lively event.

In the serenity of the corridor, Gemma's gaze is drawn to a lone figure at the far end. The dimly lit hallway casts a subtle glow on the scene, and she cautiously approaches the person who seems to be in a similar pursuit of solace. A young man, casually sipping from his glass of champagne, leans against the wall with a relaxed demeanour. One of his legs is pulled up to his chest, adding a nonchalant touch to his posture.

As Gemma draws closer, her footsteps echoing softly in the stillness, she notices the man's gaze lifting from his drink to meet her eyes. Despite the masks concealing their faces, a silent connection is forged as their eyes lock in mutual recognition. A subtle smile graces the young man's lips, a spontaneous reaction to Gemma's presence. However, he momentarily forgets that his mask obscures the brightness of his smile.

“You know, it bothers me too sometimes.” Gemma comments, out-of-the-blue.

“What?” Lando responds, confused by her statement.

“If you’re not supposed to eat at night, why would the refrigerator have a light in it?” Gemma explains, attempting a joke to ease the man’s tension.

“That’s, uhm, that’s going to haunt me now, thank you for that.” Lando laughs as he beckons for her to sit down next to him.

“I can’t be the only one who has sleepless nights over it.” Gemma continues to joke as she leans against the wall beside him.

Lando continues to chuckle at her half-hearted attempt to lighten his dark mood. But, it worked and he was feeling lighter by just laughing.

“So, why are you hiding down a mysterious hallway?” Lando wonders as he looks up and down the hallway.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Gemma counters.

“People.” Lando sighs. “Too many people.”

“Hmm. Yeah, same.” Gemma laughs. “But, moreso my shoes.”

Lando peers down and spots a pair of high heels on her red and swollen feet.

“Yeah, those don’t look very comfortable.” Lando agrees, his eyes drifting up from her feet all the way back to her eyes.

“You’re welcome to give them a try.” Gemma suggests, a smile forming on her lips as she continues to tease him.

“I’ll leave that to the professional.” Lando counters with a chuckle.

The two sit in silence for a minute or two as they stare at the Victorian wallpaper on the wall across from them. Gemma turns her head slightly towards Lando.

“You know what else is quite weird.” Gemma starts.

“Tell me.” Lando implores, curious to see what else leaves her lips.

“That you’re overwhelmed by all these people and instead of leaving, you choose to sit in this hallway.” Gemma states.

“I can’t really leave, to be honest with you.” Lando shrugs. “I can say the same about you, considering how painful your feet look.”

“Hey, beauty is pain they say.” Gemma argues, mocking him. “So, what? Is your date inside talking to all the rich folk, is that why you can’t leave?”

“Nice way to ask if I’m single.” Lando chuckles again.

“Not asking, dear. I’m just looking for some drama to spice up the night a bit.” Gemma counters, almost pouting as she looks at him.

“There’s no date. Or girlfriend, for that matter.” Lando explains. “Just lost hopes and dreams.”

“That’s depressing.” Gemma sighs and leans her head against the wall behind her.

“Now your turn.” Lando beckons, waiting to hear her explanation as to why she was in the hallway too.

“Just like you, I cannot leave. I’m here for work purposes, so I’ll stick around and enjoy the open bar until they ask me to leave.” Gemma explains, holding up her glass of wine in the air.

“I see, so you work for McLaren?” Lando wonders, taking another sip of champagne.

“You guessed correctly.” Gemma nods.

“And, what is it that you do?” Lando continues.

“I’m a data analyst in the simulator department.” Gemma explains.

“So, you have an indirect influence on how the season will turn out?” Lando asks.

“I guess you could say so. I use the data from the driver’s simulators so the mechanics can change what’s necessary on the car, so yeah, maybe a little.” Gemma responds.

“That’s pretty cool.” Lando breathes, a smile teasing his lips.

“And, you? I assume you work for McLaren too since you can’t just up and leave?” Gemma queries.

Lando turns to her and smiles, a chuckle escaping his lips. He realised that she didn’t know who he was, or at least didn’t recognize him with his mask on. He quickly removes his mask to reveal his sweet smile, completely taking Gemma by surprise.

“Lando. I’m one of the drivers. Nice to meet you.” Lando states.

“Obviously, you’re one of the drivers.” Gemma counters with a joking eye roll before removing her own mask too. She’s beautiful with green pools for eyes and full lips.“Gemma. Nice to meet you, Lando.”

“At some point we’ll have to go back inside.” Lando mumbles.

“Only to return to this hallway again.” Gemma adds. Lando stands up and helps Gemma to her feet. “Not just a great driver, but also a gentleman.”

“A guy can have more than one talent.” Lando teases as they walk back towards the main hall pulling on their masks once again.

Gemma sighs as she looks at the crowded hall. Lando peers down at her and smiles once more. She’s so beautiful, he thinks. Gemma’s eyes land on the bar which is relatively quiet. Her glass is empty and it’s time for a refill.

“Another wine?” Lando asks as he guides her towards the bar.

“What’re you having?” She asks him.

“I think it’s time for something stronger. Maybe a vodka soda.” Lando suggests.

“I’ll have the same.” Gemma agrees.

Lando places the order for the vodka sodas and hands her hers. They turn to face the crowd while sipping on their drinks.

“I think you’re the first person not to ask me how I feel about the season.” Lando comments, almost shouting over the blaring music.

“I assumed you were bombarded with that question enough.” Gemma responds.

“You said you were happy to abuse the open bar all night. Any reason why?” Lando asks, changing the topic.

“Just got out of a three-year relationship with a guy who hated seeing me drink.” Gemma bluntly answers. “He thought I would get too comfortable with other guys when I drank.”

“So, that’s why you came and sat down next to a stranger in a deserted hallway.” Lando jokes.

“Yeah, well, not all strangers are scary or have bad intentions.” Gemma shrugged.

The minutes pass in a whirlwind of laughter and shared stories as Gemma and Lando engage in a lively conversation, their connection deepening with each passing moment. The ambient hum of the music becomes a backdrop to their animated exchange, the rhythm of the beats creating a vibrant atmosphere around them. The alcohol coursing through their veins acts as a liberating force, allowing them to shed inhibitions and fully immerse themselves in the moment.

Feeling the pull of the music, Lando, with an infectious grin, seizes Gemma's hand, leading her towards the pulsating dancefloor. As they join the rhythmic sway of the crowd, the boundary between them blurs, and the dance becomes a fluid expression of joy and freedom. The cares of the outside world dissipate as they lose themselves in the infectious energy of the music.

Amidst the revelry, the pair remains blissfully unnoticed, the anonymity afforded by the vibrant crowd shielding Lando from the prying eyes of admirers or fans. The freedom to simply be in the moment intensifies their enjoyment as they twirl and move in synchrony, the connection between them growing stronger with each beat.

In a lighthearted moment, Lando, fueled by a mixture of boldness and the euphoria of the night, interrupts Gemma's laughter with a spontaneous and somewhat sloppy kiss. The surprise lingers in the air for a heartbeat before he pulls away, his gaze fixed on her eyes, searching for any signs of reciprocation. The people around them, lost in their own revelry, remain oblivious to this intimate exchange, allowing Gemma and Lando to exist in a world of their own creation.

The ambient lights cast a soft glow on Gemma's face as she meets Lando's gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and intrigue. The air between them crackles with a newfound tension, and the sounds of the bustling party fade into the background as they share a moment suspended in time, shielded by the dancefloor's anonymity. The world around them may be alive with energy, but in that moment, it's just the two of them, caught in the enchantment of the music and the unspoken connection they've discovered on the dancefloor.

The pulsating rhythm of the music fades into the background as Gemma, emboldened by the electrifying connection between them, leans in and breathes a whispered request, "Kiss me again." Her voice, a soft and inviting murmur, carries the weight of anticipation as she pulls Lando closer by the nape of his neck.

Lando, captivated by the magnetic pull of the moment, readily complies. Their lips meet once more in a tender collision, a fusion of desire and passion. His arms instinctively snake around her waist, pulling her irresistibly closer, as if unwilling to let go of the enchanting spell they've cast upon each other. The sensation of her body against his intensifies the intimacy of the kiss, creating a cocoon of warmth and connection in the midst of the lively celebration surrounding them.

Gemma's hands cup Lando's face, her touch both gentle and reassuring, as if savouring the reality of the shared moment. The world around them disappears, and they willingly succumb to the allure of the kiss, allowing the currents of emotion to wash over them. Gemma, yielding to the intoxicating dance of lips, willingly falls against him, surrendering to the magnetic force that binds them together.

In this stolen moment, the dance floor becomes their private sanctuary, and the outside world ceases to exist. The whispers of the music, the soft glow of the lights, and the warmth of their embrace form a backdrop to a shared intimacy that transcends the chaos of the celebration. Gemma and Lando, lost in the timeless embrace, create a moment that lingers in the air—a memory woven into the fabric of the night, a secret shared between two souls entwined in the alchemy of a single, exquisite kiss.

“Let’s leave.” Lando suggests when he pulls away from their messy kiss, some of her lipstick plastered on his lips.

“What if you’re a serial killer?” Gemma argues, her lips pouting.

“Oh, now you’re worried about stranger danger.” Lando chuckles, jokingly rolling his eyes.

“Where shall we go?” Gemma wonders.

“My apartment?” Lando suggests, but he poses it more as a question for her to agree to.

“Let’s go then.” Gemma agrees.

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astrolovecosmos · 5 months

Text

🫖

Aries Tea Party: You must come with an outfit or makeup that has flair, spices fill the air, everyone follows the host's lead, bright and airy atmosphere, loud voices and laughter, decisions are made here, a bold and maybe even conflict-fueling guest list.

Taurus Tea Party: In a beautiful garden, elegant dishes and teapots, roses and candles, soft attire, long dresses, good and close company, peaceful music, hand-crafted invitations, animals possibly invited too.

Gemini Tea Party: Picnic style in a meadow or in a lovely solarium, arboretum, or aviary, the tea is hot metaphorically and literally, matching outfits or themed outfits is encouraged, never-ending conversations, social games, maybe a book club gathering, a diverse guest list.

Cancer Tea Party: Family and close friends only, has gift bags, the best tea and hors d'oeuvres you've ever had, smile for the pictures, uplifting atmosphere, heirlooms possibly used, toss in a little magic whether it be 🏰 magic, grandma's recipes, the magic of family and love, or literal witchcraft, maybe a tea party by moonlight, maybe a tea party on the beach.

Leo Tea Party: Must dress extravagant or within a creative theme, rich flavors, royal gardens or tea rooms, watch out for the politics, be sure to compliment your host, there is room for indulgence and opulence, the best rumors you'll ever hear, the best service you've ever had too, there's time for a dance, for a reading, for croquet, for everything, drama may unfold but enjoy the show or ride, maybe a little wine with your tea?

Virgo Tea Party: An itinerary printed out and closely followed, please be punctual, dress nice, manners matter here, high-quality tea and food, entertaining and surprisingly decadent, there may be books to explore, you'll learn more than you expected at this gathering - whether it be about everyone's business or a new life hack, aesthetically pleasing and thoughtful decor, everything must be perfect, a place for stimulation but also respite.

Libra Tea Party: Plenty of sweets, the aesthetics 😍🤩, dainty and delicate, possibly a clever theme, personalized cups or napkins for the guests, has a guest list that is great for networking and matchmaking, comfortable chairs and couches, everything is pleasant from the decor to the fragrances to the temperature, will happen on a beautiful day.

Scorpio Tea Party: Private, exclusive guest list, spicy or strong flavors, may be inspired by fiction, crystals and witchy candles, maybe the perfect time for a tarot reading, a place where you'll hear secrets and hearts are spilled, maybe a sexy tea party. ;)

Sagittarius Tea Party: Fairy lights, maybe a tea party by candlelight, or by a beautiful fireplace - either way the lighting will be a centerpiece, cozy vibes, insightful conversations, plenty of laughs, possibly some excitement even if things seem like a quant tea party, a great time for show and tell, exotic or hard to find teas, very interesting company.

Capricorn Tea Party: Could be done in a traditional way, a beautiful chandelier or statues, maybe out in the woods, classical or indie music, only a few guests, VIP treatment, nothing of poor quality, moments happen here, some surprising secrets may accidentally come out, be sure to follow the dress code.

Aquarius Tea Party: Eclectic decorations, maybe retro vibes, plenty of light blankets and cute pillows, unusual or handcrafted teas, either has a large guest list or is having tea with one other person, could be doing the party for charity, people stay late due to captivating conversations, sneak in a game of chess or conspiracy theories, a gathering of like minds.

Pisces Tea Party: Aquamarine and coral colors, seafood may be served or a special diet, ocean themes, the most ornate cups and silverware, glitter and shimmers, maybe some time for poetry or painting, accommodating, moments to cry and share, only those that impress or connect with the host get invited back.

#tea #tea party #zodiac #astrology #for fun #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #aesthetics

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tnt-kokoo · 24 days

Text

My showgirl

pairing: Rin Itoshi × fem!reader

summary: You're a theater girl in the late 1800's. In that time you got quite famous and young girls started seeing you as their 'role model' as for guys started to fell inlove with you. Your charms manage to gather the attention from the one and only Rin Itoshi.

warnings: non I think

Walking into the theater, he saw lots of people in their expensive growns. Rin himself even dressed nice. But that's that's to expect if you wnat to visit the theater and even more if you wnat to go to a show with the new upcoming star, Y/n L/n.

Just hearing the name slip through the lips of people made others fall for you but seeing you live was something so different. It felt like the most loving memory someone could have. Imagining you being with them and embracing the viewers into a seductive warmth.

But the dark haired boy told himself that people were making a way too big drama about it and just let their 'inner poet' out. It made the boy gag and look at them with disgust filling his face.

Now paying for the entry ticket, his family, which includes himself as well as his parenst and even his brother, walked towards their seats on the upper rows. From there it might be a bit harder to see or hear the performance but atleast it wasn't as bad as having to fight to get a good look at you like in the lower rows.

The lights dimmed as the big red curtains opened slowly. The lights started to shine in the middle of the stage and that's where you stood.

Seeing you made Rins heart clench as his eyes widened and looked at your beauty. Your whole persona looked like the beauty of the first snow fall of the year, the way it was so cold, yet so welcoming and lovable.

Watching the show continue, he realized people weren't lying and you were, infact the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

After the show you and your colleagues all held eachothers hand and bow down to the crowd watching. With a big and loud applause the curtains began closing as Rin hoped they would stay open a bit longer so he could look at you again. Yet, to his luck they weren't going to open again just for him.

As others, as well as the Itoshi family begann leaving, Rin couldn't help but stay in his seat a bit longer, dreaming of you.

"What are you waiting for, Rin?" The cold voice effects his brother woke him up momentarily and he stood up to follow. Outside in the big hall of the theater, the crowd of the rich families were talking with eachother in the finest dresses caressing the grounds. The laughter made the atmosphere more comfortable, but Rin wasn't attentive. He only wanted to see you one last time.

Somehow, his wish was heard as the actors of the play (you included) walked out with different clothes. You looked eternal to the point that even the whitest of snow couldn't beat your bright aura. The young boy couldn't help but be amazed when he heard your giggle. So he started to walk towards you without thinking for once, no one seemed to notice him except for his brother who noticed the way his face softened when he saw you.

So standing infront of you, you looked in his way, waiting for him to say why he came.

....

"Can.. Can I help you?" you said in an unsure voice while laughing in a nervous manner. But who wouldn't be nervous if a tall guy just came and stared at you without saying anything?

Acknowledging what he did, he started by apologizing, followed with a "I saw your show, it was good- you were good." He said with his ears now bright red.

"Thank you...," you said as ypu looked around "want to follow me to a more quiet place?" you asked.

Smiling you held out your hand to him and when he put his hand in your soft ones, he knew he was damned for.

____________________________________________

ᯓᝰ: I have ao many drafts but I find no motivation and I gotta study French for my final exams 😭🙏

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk fluff #bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #rin itoshi x y/n #itoshi rin x y/n

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anton-luvr · 6 months

Note

shotaro x gn reader and they have a sleepover and they do the cutesy norms like makeovers, face masks, watch movies n gossip but then they start playing stuff like 20 questions and things get personal (gn confesses) and shotaro returns his feels and they kiss and it gets a little suggestive????? (if you’re comfortable, ofc!!) 🫶🏽

# SPECIAL SOMEONE.

𖦹 bf!shotaro x gn!reader | fluff & suggestive | friends 2 lovers au

𖦹 note ; first taro fic here!!! also im so sorry for how long this took irene thank u for waiting and always supporting me :( + reqs are CLOSED, soft hours OPEN !!

Sleepovers after exams were tradition for you and Shotaro.

This time round was no different.

After gossiping about the latest drama in your university over Chinese takeaway in his kitchen and throwing a fashion show in his bedroom with almost all of his clothes, the both of you settled down for more calmer activities.

You would usually watch a movie, but Shotaro had been pestering you for weeks to play 20 Questions with him, claiming it was a ‘fun’ game that would allow the both of you to ‘understand each other better’.

So here you were, sitting cross legged across him on his bed while his favorite R&B songs played softly from his speakers.

“Okay, what’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had?” you ask, looking up from the list of questions he had sent you.

His pretty eyes light up, and he immediately starts rambling excitedly to you about what sounds like a dream of Godzilla doing ballet in New York City.

You’d understand it if you were paying attention, but you just couldn’t help but get distracted.

Shotaro was so effortlessly gorgeous.

His freshly dyed blonde hair suited him so well, a bright color that complimented the shine of love and sincerity in his eyes for those around him. It also made his cherry red lips pop, looking so soft and so plush while he continued talking about his weird dream.

And when he laughed?

It was a melody that you never wanted to stop listening to, a sound that brought out your own smile while your body warmed up at how cute he was.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you look up from his lips to see him staring at you.

“Are you okay? You kinda spaced out.” he asks, head tilted in confusion.

Embarrassed, you nod your head. “Yeah, sorry I was thinking about something.” you lied, grinning sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” he laughs, flashing you his signature smile. “It's my turn to ask you a question now.”

Neither of you say anything as he scrolls through the questions, pouting in concentration as he tries to pick one.

“Ooh, this one is nice.” he giggles, smirking at you as he puts his phone aside.

“What was your first kiss like?” he asks dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows at you in a teasing manner.

“M-My first kiss?” you sputtered, almost choking on your own spit.

Shotaro hums eagerly.

“Well, I’ve never had one yet.” you admit, laughing awkwardly.

At this, Shotaro waves his hand in the air as if to dismiss what you said. "Nah, no way." he chuckles. "Someone as pretty and as nice as you hasn't had their first kiss yet? Lies."

Your cheeks burn at his compliment, but you shake your head. "I'm serious, Taro." you said.

He blinks in surprise at you, mumbling a soft "Oh."

"Well... then when do you want to have your first kiss?" he asks.

You can only offer a shrug as you sigh, lying down on his bed.

“When I find the right person, I guess.” you mutter.

Shotaro lies down beside you too, propped up by his arm to look at you.

“Anyone particular in mind?” he teases, back to wiggling his eyebrows at you.

Oh, little did he know who it was.

First kisses seemed to be something so special and so intimate to you, so logically, you would want to have your first kiss with someone special.

Someone who truly meant something to you.

And that someone was Shotaro.

He somehow manages to sees things that others don’t, looking out for you in situations that always catches you by surprise.

It could be the jacket that he casually wrapped around you at a party because he noticed the goosebumps on your arms, or the time he got you your favorite pen when it ran out of ink and he saw you using another pen in class.

It could be when he offered to piggyback you across the muddy road after it rained, knowing how much you liked your white sneakers and wouldn’t want them dirty.

It could be in moments like these, where just his smile made you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “You.”

“M-Me?” Shotaro stutters, eyes wide with surprise while his face flushed a light red.

"Yeah, you. I like you, Taro.” you confess. “You’re the one I’d want to have my first kiss with. It’s fine if you don’t have the same feelings, I just thought I’d let you know.” you add on, smiling softly at the end.

Like the angel he was, you thought Shotaro would reject you nicely, but he proves that idea wrong when he tells you quite the opposite.

“I like you too." he says gently, a dazed smile on his lips.

“No way.” you mumble, frowning suspiciously at him.

“Yes way.” he giggles.

“Let’s have your first kiss, shall we?” is all he says before his lips crash against yours.

You can’t help but smile into the kiss at how right it all feels, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

And even though you were inexperienced, you learned quickly from Shotaro. Soon enough, he could taste your vanilla lip balm on his lips, mind spinning from the feeling of your tongue against his.

The kiss eventually deepens, and a heavy desperation for each other starts to make its way into the kiss.

“More?” Shotaro asks as he pulls away, panting and his eyes darkening with need.

“More.” you answer breathlessly, as you tug him back down by his sweater to kiss you.

It’s soon discarded into a corner of Shotaro’s room as you spend the rest of the night intertwined, hands exploring each other and lips never once leaving each other.

Just you and your special someone.

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mermaidgirl30 · 5 months

Text

Shout out to @mandoisapunk for being my beta reader! One shot is posted on A03! @pedrostories

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairings: Joel x Reader, Joel x female reader

Word count: 8,905

Summary: After having a bad breakup with Joel Miller, you decide you need a night at the bar to relax and meet someone new. Little do you know, Joel is there but he’s with someone new. Will you let your jealousy get the best of you or will you get revenge with another man at the bar?

Warnings/Tags: No Outbreak, jealousy, angst, longing, fluff and smut, cream pie, oral, fingering, unprotected P in V, Dom Joel, possessive Joel, porn with plot, lots of smut, drama, makeup sex

It was a warm summer evening. The Texas heat was brutal, but the nighttime was just a little more bearable as the temperature dropped from 100 to the 80’s. It was Friday night, the one night where the city of Austin came to life the most. Cars crowded the streets with their flashy lights and music that was turned up too loud. Just a normal start to the weekend.

You’d spent most of the early evening getting ready in your too bright, too bulky vanity. Caking your lips with the darkest red lipstick you could find, putting on that perfect shade of pink eyeshadow, getting your eyeliner smooth and sharp, and curling your hair into long waves. You had to look perfect tonight. You were in the mood to flirt, maybe meet a nice guy, maybe bring someone home. It was all up in the air, you just needed to get out of the house. You needed attention. Needed to get your mind off him. It had been a long, insufferable week at work, and you just needed a break.

You walked down Sixth Street that was filled with busy bars and noisy people, settling on a bar called The Black Stallion. A bar you usually didn’t go to. You could’ve gone to all your usuals, but you figured you’d try something new. Maybe tonight would be your lucky night.

You didn’t answer the phone when the girls called earlier, you just needed a night alone to unwind, uncoil all your raging thoughts that had been stirring in your mind.

You’d been doing so good lately. It’d been days since you last saw him. Weeks since you last touched him. You didn’t need him though. It was over between you two, and you had to accept it.

Acceptance could be messy though, and that’s what you’d been lately. A fucking wreck. You thrived off cheap liquor and lousy hook ups to get you through the weeks, trying your best to move on and keep your mind busy. It didn’t really work much though.

Not really.

But you were getting better. One day at a time.

You’d gone days without thinking of him, keeping your mind on men that could be your next obsession to fill the void. Someone who would want to wine and dine you, treat you right. You liked Golden Retriever boyfriends who were kind and sweet. But they weren’t anywhere near what Doberman boyfriends were. Overprotective, loyal, powerful. The ones that say “Touch her and you die” kind of vibes. That’s what Joel was, your Doberman…

No, fuck that and fuck him. You were not doing this tonight. You were here to have fun, to meet someone new. No more thoughts of Joel. He was in the past. You had to look towards your future, with someone better.

Something pulled deep inside you though. Something you pushed down, crushing it with the too high black heels you had on. Sinking it further into the cracks with every clank they made against the pavement that you walked across. This was your time to shine, to go in there and act like you own the place. You sighed and took a deep breath, calming yourself before you stepped in.

You walked into the lit up bar with your head held high. The air smelled like all sorts of liquor and the hint of cigarette smoke that lingered high in the air. The place was packed. Bodies were littered all around you. A couple that was too cozy wrapped themselves up together right next to the door, melding together in a passionate kiss. You rolled your eyes and kept moving forward, it made you sick.

It was dim in here as the lights were down low. You moved past the packed in bodies and found a seat at the bar, pulling back a black barstool and sitting down. You leaned against the dark wood bar top and settled in, looking around at your surroundings. A large mirror covered the back wall as bottles of liquor sat on one another, making all sorts of fancy patterns next to the glass cups.

A pack of older biker men sat a few seats away from you, already ogling you. You wanted to roll your eyes, yell for them to stop staring, but it was pointless. You knew you looked good. You could snatch up any man you wanted if you really tried. But the only man you wanted attention from was gone. You pushed past the thought and flashed them a smile, not caring if you didn’t really mean to be flirty with them. They could have one smile. That was it.

The bartender came over to you, about to take your drink order you assumed. He was handsome, maybe just a couple years older than you. He had black slicked back hair and green eyes that could entrance any sane woman. He was over 6 feet tall and had a nice build. Seemed like a charming gentleman.

“What are you drinking tonight, sweetheart?” he asked smoothly, cleaning off a glass cup with a towel.

“Whiskey and coke, please,” you purred, gently smiling at him.

“A whiskey girl huh?” He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It’s what I like.”

“Figured you’d be a fruity cocktail girl.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you raised an eyebrow in defense.

“No disappointment here,” he said as he raised his hands in defeat. “One whiskey and coke coming right up.” He moved away and started mixing together your drink, watching him closely to make sure he knew what he was doing.

The truth was whiskey and coke wasn’t your usual. Not until you met Joel, then you were hooked. It was his favorite, his go to, his only choice of alcohol. And now it was yours as well. A taste you couldn’t shake. Your own personal brand of heroin. A taste you could get drunk off.

You remembered so clearly what it was like to hang off his lips, his breath smelling of whiskey as he drew you in, tangling his tongue with yours as you melted into him. A tingle ran down your spine just thinking of the way you got lost in his scent. Whiskey and mahogany. Your two favorite scents. You threw the thoughts out of your head quick before the bartender came back over. What the hell was wrong with you? It was over, done.

He came back and set the drink in front of you. “Here ya go, one whiskey and coke on the house. One of those gentlemen over there paid for your drink.”

You looked over and nodded to the man who did. He wasn’t your type at all. Short, buzz cut hair style, and grey eyes. You were still polite and smiled, looking back at the bartender. “Thanks.”

“Enjoy. Let me know if you need anything.” He smiled and turned away, going to help another customer a few seats away.

You took the straw that was in the drink and spun it around, watching the ice clink together as the amber colored liquid mixed before your eyes. You listened to the soft hum of Metallica carry through the bar, easing your mind of any tension you had seconds ago. You took a sip of your drink as the cold liquid ran down your throat, the sweet aftertaste hitting seconds later, covering the burn of the whiskey.

You glanced around the room, taking in the low lighting the bar encapsulated, watching the spin of couples on the small wooden dance floor, scanning the doorway as men trailed in and out of the bar. You were trying your best to relax.

Your eyes made their way to the pool tables, scanning over the groups of people that were crowded around them. The black walls mixed in with the red carpets of the pool table tops, along with the cue sticks that sat against the walls. You relaxed against the bar top, your knees grazing against the table.

Two couples that were holding hands walked away from the pool tables, making a clear path for you to see. As you took another drink from the cold glass, you froze. Choking on your alcohol and tipping the glass over, spilling it all over the bar surface as the glass hit the ground and shattered into tiny pieces.

Holy shit. What stood across the bar was a sight that blinded you. You felt as if a car had just crashed into you, your insides completely wrecked. Joel. There he was in his favorite red plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as his thick arms hugged the smooth material. Bulging veins covered his arms, his huge hands on each side of the pool table. Except they weren’t just on the pool table. He was leaning over some girl, and his hands were covering her waist.

You choked again on nothing, your throat constricting. She had big, blonde hair that was caked in hairspray. Her icy blue eyes fell over his face, a big red lipstick smile covering her mouth. Her double D’s were spilling out over her too small hot pink tank top. Her denim shorts were hiked up, almost showing her ass. She looked like the city slut, an instant sour taste entering your mouth.

Who the fuck did Joel Miller think he was taking out? Why was he with her? She was definitely not his type, but apparently you didn’t know what his type was anymore. It obviously wasn’t you.

Suddenly your short black dress felt too short, felt too tight as your chest suffocated against it. Your heels felt too tall, too uncomfortable. Your matted red lips felt dry, your throat barely catching any air. You swore you were about to get sick. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs or cry. Maybe you wanted to go pull out her fake bleach blonde extensions. You weren’t a violent person, but your insides were burning just watching her. Little miss give me attention getting ogled and touched by the Joel Miller. Give me a fucking break.

“You alright there, sweetheart? You broke your glass and look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” The sweet bartender was back in front of you, cleaning up the whiskey that you had spilt.

“I’m fine,” you said with gritted teeth, turning back to glance at just how close Joel was to the blonde bitch. Sliding his fingers over her thigh, teaching her exactly where to aim the cue stick on the table, leaning down against her. You were boiling alive inside, about to either run out of the bar or stand your ground and watch as jealousy burned through you.

“You don’t look fine to me,” he said carefully. “Now, what do you keep looking at huh?” He turned his head and looked in the direction of the pool tables. He spotted Joel and his new girl hovering over the pool table, all smiles and laughs. Pathetic.

“Oh, I see. You looking at that couple over there? He an old flame or something?”

“Something like that,” you said quietly, teeth still bared.

“That girl over there is named Brianna. She’s a frequent to this bar. I see her all the time with a different guy. She knows how to get around. She’s been coming with that one the past week though which is unusual. She usually doesn’t stick around that long before she’s on to the next guy.”

“That’s just lovely,” you said sarcastically with a scowl on your face.

“Hey, look at me a minute. Let me give you some advice,” he said gently.

You turned towards him and rested your elbows on the table, leaning in so you could hear him clearly.

“You’re really worried about that guy? Honey, this whole bar is after you. And there’s a guy on the end right over there that has had his eye on you ever since you stepped foot in here.” He pointed out a man at the end of the bar, sitting alone with a beer in his hand. He was good looking. Really good looking.

Tousled blonde hair with bright blue eyes and a jawline so sharp that it could kill. He was wearing dark faded jeans and a black button up, the top buttons undone and his tie loose. His sleeves were rolled up to expose a black intricate snake tattoo that ran up his entire arm. Whoa. Okay, this guy wasn’t just hot, he was sexy. Maybe even boyfriend material.

“Let me give you some advice. If you want to get over someone, you get under someone. And I bet if he saw you with that guy sitting at the bar, he’d be jealous as fuck. I know I would be. I don’t know what happened between you two, but he messed up. And it’s his loss. Now, why don’t you put on a pretty smile and wave him over. Make that other guy regret ever letting you go.”

You thought about his words, let them sink in as they flowed through your mind. Make him regret ever letting you go. Okay. You could do this. You could make him jealous. Easy. You already had Mr. blondie on a tight leash. All you had to do now was pull.

The bartender placed another whiskey and coke drink in front of you, replacing your broken one. You took a large gulp and placed it back on the table, getting your courage up. Let the games begin.

You smirked over to the hot blonde, batting your long eyelashes at him, coaxing him to come join you at the bar. He gave you a devilish grin and stood up from his barstool, slowly making his way over to you. When he made it over, he pulled out the barstool next to you and sat down carefully.

“Didn’t think I’d get your attention tonight,” he said with a smirk, his blue eyes piercing into you, making your stomach flutter with butterflies.

“And why’s that?” you asked with a laugh.

“Because you’re the prettiest girl in the room.”

You gulped at the compliment, turning just slightly so your knees could brush up against his, scooting the tiniest bit closer, your dress hiking up half an inch, exposing more thigh. He stared down at your legs, going over every inch with his eyes, sending chills down your spine. He really was attractive. He had that typical bad boy look, but he also looked sweet. Maybe even caring. Guess you’d have to find out.

“You’re sweet,” you said with a blush forming on your cheeks.

“I try. What’s your name?” he asked genuinely. You gave him your name, and he said it back with a lull in his voice. A sweet sound you could get used to. “I’m Alexander, but you can call me Alex for short.”

He had an accent. Definitely not from Texas. He sounded like he was maybe from another country. “You’re not from around here, are you?” you asked curiously.

“I’m from England originally, but I’ve lived in California most of my life. I just moved here a few months ago for work. Trying to start up a business here and get it going before I go back to California.”

“Wow, an English man. I always loved the English accents. They always sounded so romantic.” You placed a hand on his thigh, leaning in closer, batting your eyelashes up at him. His eyes went wide as you slid your hand just a bit higher, stopping just short of his zipper. Putting the flames to the test. He passed with flying colors.

He gently laid one of his hands against the small of your back, sinking it down just before he could graze your ass. You didn’t mind. This is what you wanted right? To get under someone and forget Joel. Make him jealous so he knew exactly how you were feeling right now.

You glanced back over to the pool table, and he was planting a kiss on her cheek, hugging her from behind as she held the cue stick in her hand, trying hard to concentrate on where to aim. You wanted to vomit, but you tore your eyes away from them and focused on the hot man that was sitting next to you.

“So, what exactly do you do for work?” you asked casually, trying not to let your anger slip out in your tone.

“I run a few tech companies. Nothing too big. Oh, but we’re partnered with Apple, so we’re kind of a big deal,” he said nonchalantly, brushing it off.

Your eyes widened as you snickered. “Apple is huge! You must be swimming in money.”

“Something like that,” he laughed back at your response.

You flirted back and forth for the next few minutes, taking in the sounds of rock and roll music flowing through the bar, finding things in common to talk about. You could see this was going well. And if it went really well then you’d be in his bed by midnight.

“So, uhh you think you want to go on a date sometime? Maybe this weekend?” he asked shyly.

“Is this not a date right now?” you asked, running your fingers lightly up his striking snake tattoo. You could feel the goosebumps start to spread over his arm. Your plan was going exactly how you wanted it to.

“I mean, I want to take you out to dinner. Maybe take you home with me also…” he said quietly, watching you closely to see your reaction.

“Oh, I think I’ll let you do both,” you said flirtatiously, leaning in closer to him, lips hanging just below his.

He didn’t stutter one bit. He sealed the distance between you and pressed his lips against yours. It was a hot, sticky kiss as he moved his hand down to your ass, opening your mouth to invite him in. His tongue connected with yours as it swirled around, tasting like vodka and whiskey mixed together. After a couple of minutes of intense making out, you broke the kiss, sitting back in your own bar stool.

As you went to turn to your drink, you saw dark eyes staring at you intensely from across the bar, right next to the pool tables. It was Joel, and he was mad. No, more than mad. He looked livid, fuming with rage. He was holding the cue stick so hard in his hands that it looked like it was about to snap in half.

You didn’t know what to feel. Remorse, jealousy, sadness, your feelings were all over the place. But you had to see this through. You wanted him to hurt just as much as he had hurt you while having to watch that slut of his fall all over him. But something like regret washed over your insides, making your stomach drop at what you just did.

Alexander leaned over and kissed you softly on the cheek, putting his hand dangerously close to the inside of your thigh, hiking your dress up even more. You squeezed your legs together, not wanting him to expose too much to anyone else.

Joel threw down the cue stick on the pool table and grabbed the blonde’s wrist, pulling her to the bar table. The same one you were at. Fuck.

He pulled out an empty seat for the girl and sat down next to her, sitting right across the table from you. His eyes were searing into yours, about to burn you alive. You tried to look down, but you could still feel his heavy gaze on you. He wouldn’t let up. He was brooding.

The room was becoming too hot. Your head was fuzzy from the warm alcohol and your cheeks were flushed. You hadn’t even had that much to drink, but the way Joel was looking at you now was making you scorch with heat. You needed a cold glass of water and now.

You waved down the bartender and asked for a water. He quickly got you a cold glass and placed it in front of you. You didn’t even say thanks, you were too preoccupied with calming the hell down. You threw your head back as you chugged the water down, hoping it’d help cool you off.

As soon as you finished the water and placed the glass back down, you realized it didn’t help at all. You were still too hot, feeling like you could crawl out of your skin at any moment. You looked back up at Joel, and he was now pushing the blonde’s hair back, exposing her neck as he placed a kiss against her collarbone. He looked straight at you the entire time he was doing it, his cold gaze burning through you. He was taunting you, showing off just what he could do with another woman.

You could feel the burning tears in the back of your eyes that were screaming to escape. You wanted so badly to break down into a puddle and cry, yell at him for ruining you, scream just how much you hated him in this moment for making you feel this way.

You couldn’t watch anymore. You had to get up and go. You couldn’t hold it together anymore. “I’m sorry, I just need a moment. I’ll be right back,” you said hurriedly to Alexander as you got up out of your seat and walked as fast as you could to the back of the building. You needed to be alone. Just for a few minutes. Until Joel got up and left the table.

You couldn’t look at him anymore. Not tonight anyways. After seeing him with that blonde, you realized just how not over him you were. You still cared way too much, even if what he just did tore you to bits. You had done the same to him though. You wanted to make him jealous, so you did. You got what you deserved. You just didn’t know it’d hurt this much.

You pushed yourself through the crowd, finding it harder to breathe. The music was too loud, the lights were too bright, there were way too many people around. You just wanted to be left alone. Before you could make it through the long, dark hallway up ahead, someone grabbed your wrist and pulled you ahead.

“Hey, stop! You can’t just…” You tried to yank your hand away until you realized just who had grabbed you. You turned to face them and realized it wasn’t just any random person. It was Joel. Oh no.

He pulled you into a large, lavish bathroom and locked the door, standing right in front of it so you couldn’t leave. Who the hell did he think he was?

“Joel, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” you hissed.

“I wanted to talk to you.” His eyebrows were furrowed together, his arms crossed over his chest as his thick arms hugged the plaid material.

“Right now? In the bathroom? No, I don’t think so. Now move so I can leave.” You tried to go around him, but he wouldn’t budge. He just stood in front of the lock, body unmoving.

You tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t move. It’s like you were trying to get through a brick wall. “Joel, I mean it. Get out of my way,” you said with more force.

“No! Not until you talk to me,” he yelled, eyes glaring at you.

You huffed and threw your arms up, backing up. “Fine, whatever. You want to talk, then let’s talk.” You crossed your arms and matched his energy, cocking your hip out to lean on.

“What the hell was that out there?” he asked angrily, his nostrils flaring.

“What was what?”

“You making out with that asshole. He was all over you, practically had his goddamn hands up your skirt,” he spit with rage.

“Oh no, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to jump down my back when you were all over that blonde slut.”

“Oh, I was not.”

“Bull shit! I saw it with my own eyes!” you screamed, irritated with him already.

“I wasn’t touching her nearly as much as that fucker was touching you.” He was searing at you, eyes blazing fumes. He was jealous as fuck.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” you asked in disbelief, eyes growing wider.

“So what if I am? You’re jealous of that blonde girl I was with too. Admit it. You were only trying to make me jealous to prove a point.”

“You arrogant son of a bitch, I was not!”

“So did you come here with him tonight or was he just some cheap shot you found at the bar?”

That was it. You weren’t doing this. You had had enough. “Move,” you demanded, putting your hands into fists at your side.

“No,” he said with finality. “Not until we finish talking.”

“God, you’re so infuriating! Look, if I knew you’d be here tonight I wouldn’t have even come here. The last thing I wanted to see was you all over a dumb bitch who doesn’t even know how to hold a cue stick correctly.”

“And you think I wanted to see you making out with a selfish prick who just wanted to take you home for the night and never call you again after?”

You clenched your jaw after that comment, hands balled at your side, wanting nothing more than to slap him across the face. “Why should you even care? We’re over! I thought the breakup was mutual. Why should you care if I’m trying to move on the best I can?”

“By getting under a man you don’t even know?” His eyebrows were raised, a look of anger taking hold on his features.

You held up your hand, frustration taking its hold over you. “Don’t even say anything because I know you’ve probably already slept with your new blonde toy.”

“So what if I have?! Not like you care.”

That hit you like a ton of bricks, your heart sinking at the thought of those two in bed together. You wanted to be sick, wanted to throw up every ounce of alcohol you took in. You kept it in though, holding on to your dignity.

You walked over and shoved him against the door, taking out your growing frustration on him. Wanting to do it again and again until all the hurt left your body. “Oh, I do care. More than I’d like to admit,” you stammered out, almost losing your footing on the floor.

Joel grabbed your wrist tight, preventing you from backing up. “Let go,” you said with a tight jaw.

“First tell me why exactly you were all over that guy tonight.” He was looking down at you harshly, something shifting in his eyes the more he looked at you.

“I was just having fun. I thought he might be nice and..”

“You’re lying,” he said with a locked jaw, eyes hounding you as he didn’t let up on his grip around you.

“Fine, you win! I was flirting with him to make you jealous because I couldn’t stand to see you with little miss attention!” Your voice was raised, a faint cry getting stuck in your throat. He released you from his grip and let you take a step back.

“I knew it,” he said proudly, slicking his dark hair with grey streaks back. Watching how his fingers slid so easily through it, remembering all the times you got to do that. Wanting nothing more than to be able to run your fingers through that messy hair that you always thought was so sexy.

“Congratu-fucking-lations. Want a prize or something?” you sneered.

“Hey now, don’t be like that.”

“How do you expect me to be, Joel? I haven’t talked to you in weeks. Hell, I’ve been doing the best I can. I had a really shitty week at work, and this was just the icing on the cake! So thank you so much for that, I sincerely hope you’re happy!” you shouted as you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms again.

“No, I’m not happy,” he grimaced, tightening up his fingers one by one.

“Oh, really? Why not?”

“Because I couldn’t fucking stand watching another guy that wasn’t me be with you!”

Oh. You wanted to fall apart at how Joel was looking at you now. He was breathing hard, and you swear you saw tears start to form in his eyes. “Joel, I…”

“I’ve spent weeks trying to get over you. It didn’t matter what I did or who I went out with, none of them were you. I have nightmares all the time. Ones where you’re always wrapped up beside me in bed, and I’ll wake up and you aren’t there. Or ones where some other guy is in your bed, taunting me from across the room. It was all just a dream though. So I did what I had to do to try to forget about you, but nothing worked. So excuse me for trying to get over you with her.” He sounded defeated. A sad lullaby that wanted to be put to sleep.

He relaxed his eyes, sadness closing in on him. Oh, Joel. “That night of the fight, why didn’t you go after me?” you asked quietly, barely able to keep your head up, doing everything in you to keep hold with his eyes.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to…” he said quietly, eyes looking down at the ground as he shoved one of his hands in his pocket, the other one hanging loosely to his side.

“I did. And you never came after me. You didn’t call. I was waiting for you to, but you never did,” you said with a shaky breath, holding back tears.

“I thought you never wanted to speak to me again,” he said with sad eyes, his eyes turning a warm honey color. You wanted to melt into those eyes. Wanted to bleed into them until you couldn’t see anymore.

“No, that’s not true…I…I don’t even remember what we were fighting about now. It was stupid, dumb, whatever it was. And look where it led us. To this exact spot. Making each other crazy with jealousy. All for what? To hurt each other? To get back at one another? Because that’s not what I wanted. That’s never what I wanted,” you said as you brushed a stray tear away, blinking away anymore that were about to fall.

“Hey, it’s okay…” He reached out a hand and wiped another tear away, lingering his fingers on your cheek. You closed your eyes and took in his gentle touch, remembering every single touch he ever gave you.

You took a step back, away from his reach. The warmth from his touch turned into a cold, vacant feeling. Wanting nothing more than to seep back into his warmth. He took a step forward, but you took one more back. “You never gave me the chance to get over you…” you whispered quietly, your voice coming out hoarse.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry…” He looked so sincere, sadness dripping off all his features. There was no more anger left. It was only replaced with longing and apologies.

He walked towards you, and you let him this time. He stopped in front of you, pulling back a lock of hair behind your ear. You leaned into his touch, wanting to sink into it.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered gently against your ear. And there it was. That one word that you had been waiting to hear again. A hushed lull that could hum you to sleep.

“You…you still love me?” you asked in a daze, confused.

“That’s right. I still love you.”

“Then why didn’t you fucking fight for me? I was waiting for you to chase me out that door, come stop me and tell me not to go. But you didn’t! I was waiting, Joel. I was waiting and you never came for me!” You were broken. Tears spilled downing your face as your vision got blurry.

Joel didn’t waste a second as he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you so tightly that you couldn’t break free. You just cried into his chest as he held you, trying to soothe you as he took a hand and gently slid it up and down your back. Taking away all your pain.

“I love you…” you whispered quietly, enough for him to hear.

“I know, baby. I know. I should’ve never let you go…” With that he kissed the top of your head and held you tighter, not wanting to break apart from you.

You felt a sense of relief. You were back in Joel’s arms. Back to where you really wanted to be. You didn’t want Alexander. You wanted Joel. He was home, and he always would be. You don’t think you could ever stop loving him. Because what the two of you had was something you never felt before. It was beautiful and was something that shouldn’t be broken.

You stayed in his embrace till all your tears dried up, slowly backing up to look up into his beautiful face. His eyes were the color of hazelnut coffee, and he had the most apologetic look on his face.

“Let me make it up to you. I want to show you just how sorry I am,” he said gently, catching the edge of your wrist.

“And how are you going to do that?” you asked, questioning him.

“By showing you exactly how I feel about you…”

Before you could say anything, he crashed his lips against yours. It wasn’t just any kind of a kiss. It was a desperate, starving kiss as he pulled you closer, pressing you up against the wall. You sank into his velvet lips, chasing his whiskey taste you so desperately loved. You opened your mouth, and his tongue shot in, chasing yours as it engulfed you. He tasted so sweet, his whiskey and spice flavor enveloping your throat.

He bit your bottom lip and slowly released it, quickly finding your neck as he sunk his mouth down on the most sensitive spot that rested above your collarbone. You choked out a moan as he grazed his teeth along your neckline, sending a pool of slick against your now drenched panties.

He lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist, running a hand against the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your throbbing center. He dropped down again to your neck, sucking so hard that he’d surely leave a mark. You ran a hand up through his tousled hair, and he groaned as you dug your nails into his scalp.

He brought his face up to your level and rested his forehead against yours, still slowly slithering his fingers up and down your thigh, making you squirm with anticipation. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby. Gonna show them just who you belong to.”

“Tell me who I belong to,” you gasped out.

“Me,” he growled. He slammed his mouth into yours again and brought his hand higher on your thigh, digging into the sides of your scrunched up panties. He lifted your dress above your hips, exposing your drenched center. You bit down on his lip as he teased you, running his fingers lightly over your pulsing core, sending more slick running down.

“Jesus, baby. You’re already so fucking wet for me.”

“Mhmm,” you moaned out as he slipped a hand inside the wet material, sliding through your folds and circling your clit firmly. You felt hot pulsing desire run through your core as he made you wetter from the touch of his calloused fingers.

“Joel…” you moaned out as he placed more pressure on your throbbing clit, wanting more, needing more.

“What’s that, darlin’?” he smirked, a devilish grin ghosting over his lips.

“I need more,” you begged, moving your hips up so you could grind against his sticky fingers.

“More what?” he asked with an edge to his voice, his dark eyes honing into yours.

“I need more of…more…” He slowly pushed two fingers inside you, pressing his palm against your aching clit. “Fuck!” you breathed out, your voice shaky from the friction.

“That’s what I thought.” He smirked as he fell to his knees and pulled down your panties, placing them inside the pocket of his jeans.

“I missed you, baby. Missed your long legs.” He ran a hand up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine. “Missed your smell.” He grabbed one of your legs and put it over his shoulder, running his tongue up your inner thigh and stopping right before he got to your pulsing center.

“Missed your taste…” He took his tongue and ran it all the way up the center of your folds, covering his tongue in your slick. You moaned out in response, and he took it as a reward. “That’s my girl. Now hold on tight. Gonna give you just what you deserve.”

With that he lapped up more slick, quickly finding your clit as he circled and circled you, making your head dizzy from the building heat. He was sucking and pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth, making your legs shake against him.

He slid two fingers inside you and pumped in and out, flicking your clit back and forth with his tongue. You grabbed a hold of his hair hard and pulled his head up higher. His eyes were staring into yours intensely. His coffee colored eyes were now full blown black pits as he was devouring you. It was the hottest most intimate thing you ever saw, making more slick appear between your legs.

“Joel…I’m close…I’m…” you groaned out, bucking your hips higher, needing more of him.

“Want you to come for me, baby. Want you to spill all over my mouth. Want to taste just how sweet you are…” He was pumping his fingers faster inside you, putting more pressure on your clit with his tongue as he ran it up and down, nice and slow.

You were squeezing your leg around him, pulling him closer to you as you could barely take anymore. The pressure was building and building inside your core. So much that you were about to release it all, let it spill all over Joel’s tongue.

“Come for me,” he commanded. He pulled your clit inside his mouth and sucked hard, breaking that seal that was holding in all your pressure. And you were done for. You released your orgasm as a low moan escaped your mouth, coating your inner thighs with hot stickiness.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised as he lapped up all the slick from your throbbing center and thighs, leaving no trace left behind. He placed your leg back on the ground gently and stood up from his knees, placing his hands around your waist to balance you from your intense orgasm.

You took a few seconds to uncloud your mind, come back down from the wave of bliss you’d just been on. You needed more. Wanted more. And you knew what you wanted to do next. You wanted to taste him.

You slowly lowered your hands to his belt, undoing the buckle and feeling his growing bulge through his jeans. He groaned as you traced your hand against his length, wanted so bad to make him feel just as good as he had made you feel.

“I think it’s my turn to taste you now. I want you to remember just how good I can make you feel.” You lowered yourself slowly to the ground, unzipping his pants and shoving them down to his ankles along with his black briefs.

You stared up at the growing erection that was planted firmly against his stomach, precum glistening on his tip. You wrapped your hand around his massive width and slid up and down his long length, squeezing just the slightest. He groaned in response as he stared down at you with dilated pupils. “I want you to know who blows you the best. Not that blonde girl. ME,” you said possessively.

“Fucking feral, darlin’. I love it. Now, show me just how good you can take this cock,” he said greedily.

You smirked up at him as you licked his tip, circling all his sensitive areas. “Fuckkk,” he moaned as you yanked up and down his shaft, licking precum off his tip. You slowly took him in your mouth, taking him in as far as you could go, gagging on his large length. He was big, but you knew just how to take him. Knew exactly how to make him feel good. It was like clockwork, you knew him that well.

You continued sliding your mouth over him, tasting the saltiness coat your tongue. A flavor you revelled in. He grabbed the back of your hair and pulled you forward, driving deeper into your throat until he was touching the very back, gagging and choking on him. A sound you loved hearing because you were driving him wild, sending him over the edge with your throat.

Tears stung your eyes as they ran down your face, drool pooling down your chin as he slammed back into you, mouth fucking you aggressively. “Good girl. That’s a good fucking girl,” he groaned with force in his words, enjoying every second of your mouth on him. Your hands your planted firmly on the back of his thighs, holding on for dear life as you choked on him. The taste of him was intoxicating, something you could get drunk on.

A few more thrusts to your mouth and he was releasing you and pulling your chin up to look at him, taking that long breath that you needed. He wiped the tears from your eyes and cleaned off the drool that was coating the edges of your mouth.

“Look at you, you’re a mess,” he said as he clicked his tongue with a smirk on his face, wiping once more under your eyes.

“I’m a mess for you,” you answered quietly, staring up into honey eyes that were turning darker by the second.

“That’s right. My mess,” he said aggressively. “Now c’mere, I’m not done with you yet.”

He pulled you up from the floor and took you over to the counter, placing your hands on the edge of the sink as he bent you over, facing directly in front of the mirror. He placed his hands over your fingers and put a leg in between yours, pushing your thighs further apart with his foot. You gulped as he kept his foot there, unable to move your legs at all. It was seductive, intimate, and hot as hell.

He leaned over your shoulder and put his mouth right next to your ear, grazing his lips against the sensitive skin. You whimpered when you saw just how he was looking at you in the mirror. The look of lust, desire, pure want, and need in his eyes. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him look so hungry for you. A hunger he’d go feral for until he ate up every single inch of you. Slick pooled at your center at the mere thought of it. Fuck.

He took his tongue and ran it up your neck slowly, stopping every couple of inches to kiss and caress your skin that was aching for his touch. You angled your neck towards him, wanting more. Needing that hunger as much as he did.

“Gonna fuck you now, baby. Gonna show you just who you belong to.” He grabbed your hair and pulled your head up higher so your eyes were staring into the mirror. “Eyes on me. I want you to watch. I want you to moan my name, I want the entire bar to know you’re mine,” he growled. It was possessive, jealous, dominant. And it was erotic as hell.

He slid the tip of his cock over your folds, collecting the slick and making himself thoroughly wet. You whimpered as he slid into you slowly, driving another moan out of you as your walls squeezed around his thick width.

“That’s right, baby. Takin’ me so good. Takin’ me like the good fucking girl you are,” he growled. He slid one hand in front of you and pulled down your dress, exposing your hard, pebbled breasts as he grabbed at them, thumbs digging into you. He then sunk his mouth down on your shoulder and bit. Teeth bared like he was a vampire coming in for the kill. Marking his territory. Claiming you. Making you feel like you were on cloud nine as he rammed into you over and over again. Feeding your aching core, increasing your hot wave of desire that was building inside you.

He was staring seductively at you in the mirror, black pits bleeding into your eyes, making you lose control of how insanely hot you were in the room. The smell of sex was everywhere. Mahogany, whiskey, and dripping bodies filled the air, making you light headed and dizzy.

“Joel…” you moaned as he circled your clit, hearing the wet, sticky sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you, corrupting all form of coherent thoughts you were having.

“Atta girl. Say it again. I wanna hear it. Say that you’re mine. Look at me with that pretty face and repeat it back to me.”

He pressed harder on your clit and pulled your hair tighter, making you gasp at how dominant he was being. Making you want to come undone just by the deep growl in his voice.

You moaned as it was all too much. You were about to shatter yourself all over him. “Joel…I’m yours.”

“Repeat it!” he growled into your ear, staring ravenously back at you in the mirror, his hand digging into your hip.

“I’m yours, I’m all yours!” you screamed out, fighting everything in your body to just hold on a few seconds more.

“That’s my good girl. Now come for me.” He sped up his circles on your throbbing mound and pressed down hard, drawing a line down your entire clit. That did it. You were rolling your eyes back and coming hard for him. You clenched up around him and released yourself on him, coating his cock in wet sticky slick.

“Goddamn, baby. Feels…so…good,” he moaned as he pushed up into you a couple more times, then he was making that sexy orgasmic face as his eyebrows furrowed together and pushed your hips into the counter. He was spilling his seed inside you, saturating your walls and calling your name. Your name sounded like a melodic lull against his deep voice. Entrancing in itself.

He stayed like that for a few more seconds then slowly slid out of you, letting his seed slip down your thighs, coating it all in white. It was warm, messy, and it was him claiming you, all of you.

He turned you around to face him, gently placing one hand around your hip and the other brushing stray locks of hair behind your ear. He slowly leaned down and kissed the top of your head, caressing your cheek with a feather-like touch. It was so gentle that you wanted to fall into him, stay in his arms where it was warm and safe. Where you felt most at home.

He lifted your chin and traced your face with his thumb softly, looking at you like you were a diamond in the rough. It made your insides tingle, a wave of admiration and longing hitting you hard as he stared at you with those warm honey eyes that made you melt.

“I missed you so much…” he whispered as he ghosted his lips over yours. Making you drink in his whiskey breath and mahogany cologne. Your two favorite scents because that was his trademark. Your choice of ecstasy.

“Not as much as I missed you.” You took your hand and ran it through his salt and pepper beard slowly. He seemed to like it cause he groaned and leaned into your touch, looking at you with endearment and tenderness.

A faint smile spread on his lips at your statement. “Alright, let’s get you cleaned up before we go back out there,” he laughed as he adjusted your dress and helped you clean off the sticky mess in between your thighs. He pulled up his jeans and tucked in his shirt, fixing his tousled hair.

You quickly ran a hand through your hair, trying to tame the messy sex hair the best you could. You tried to reach into his pocket for your panties, but he grabbed your wrist and stopped you fast, clicking his tongue at you. “Oh no, you’re not getting these back right now. They’re stayin’ with me,” he smirked with darkening eyes.

“I can’t go back out there with nothing under my dress. What if people see?” you pouted with wide eyes, not wanting to leave the bathroom till you had something on.

“They’re not gonna see cause we’re leaving, now,” he said adamantly, sliding his hand down from your wrist to your hand, entangling his fingers with yours. It felt so good, so warm, so right.

“But what about your date?” you asked hesitantly, lowering your voice.

“Look at me,” he said firmly, grabbing your chin. “I don’t give a fuck about her. We’re leaving, now. You and me. Not her.”

“Where are we going?” you asked with questions in your eyes as he dropped his hand from your chin.

“We’re going home.”

“Home? Are you taking me back home to my place?”

“No, baby. You’re going home with me,” he said gently.

Oh. “You’re taking me back to your place…?” Your voice carried off into the distance, not believing what you just heard.

“Yes, where else would I be taking you?”

“I don’t know. I thought…”

“You’re going home with me, period. I’m not letting you go again. So c’mon, let’s go.”

“Okay.”

As you walked out of the bathroom, a gentle smile spread across your lips. You had done it. You got him back. He still wanted you just as much as you wanted him. It was almost surreal. You thought for sure you would’ve ended the night at Alexander’s house, but you’re glad that wasn’t the case because you would’ve just been sulking over Joel the entire time.

He pulled you through the crowded bar, making space for you to pass as he kept a hold on your hand, pulling you into his chest as he grazed his hand over your hip and pushed you forward. Making sure no one else was able to touch you.

As you passed the bar, you saw Brianna staring wide eyed with an open mouth at the two of you. She looked pissed and she tried calling Joel’s name, but he didn’t even turn his head. He didn’t care about her. He was back with you now. Every ounce of jealousy that you had toward her was gone because he was yours. She didn’t get to have him anymore. You smirked at her, letting her know you had won.

A few more steps and you were passing Alexander. Joel glared daggers at him as you passed him by. He was letting him know that you were his, and he didn’t appreciate when he had been touching you. You mouthed sorry, and all he did was shake his head and take a stiff drink from his cup, looking anywhere but at you. You didn’t care anymore. He was just a placeholder, a vacant spot until you got what you wanted. Joel.

Joel walked you to his white Chevy and opened the door for you, helping you in so you wouldn’t trip over your tall heels. As soon as you got in, he closed the door and went over to the driver side and got in, starting up the hum of the truck as the engine came to life.

You remembered it just like it was yesterday. His soft velvety seats, the smell of cigarettes and wood filling the inside, his favorite bands playing softly against the stereo. He turned up Pearl Jam, and it was just as you remembered. This was what peace felt like. You were content, finally.

As he started driving, he threw an arm over the back of the seat, coaxing you to join him. He looked over at you with those calm brown eyes and nodded his head, wanting you to scoot over by him.

You smiled shyly and slid over to sit beside him, leaning over and resting your head on his shoulder as he placed his arm around you, grazing against your arm with his calloused fingers.

This was what home felt like. He was home. And that’s where you were going. Back to his house, with him. And this time you wouldn’t run out, you wouldn’t let him go. You’d stay forever. Right in his arms. Right where you felt most at home. His. As much as he was yours. Two pieces that fit together perfectly, and that’s where you’d stay. Until the end of time.

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel x you #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #jealousy #a03 fanfic #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #dom!joel miller #possessive Joel #joel miller fic #no outbreak!joel miller #no use of y/n #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

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jisungsdaydreamer · 5 months

Text

Anti-Romantic | CHAPTER THREE | 18+

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»

DRUNK IN LOVE

“I haven’t been the same since we met.”

«PREVIOUS CHAPTER» · «SERIES MASTERLIST»

Pairing: Hyunjin x Fem!Reader Genre: Non idol au, fluff, smut, romcom, drama, opposites attract Chapter Warnings: explicit sexual content, switch!Hyunjin, switch!reader, mentions of emotionally abusive ex, mutual fantasizing, sexual fantasy sequence (dom!reader, sub!Hyunjin), cumeating/cumplay, masturbation (f), heavy insecurity and self deprecation, oral (f receiving), rough sex, degradation, titfucking, pussy slapping, edging/orgasm denial, creampie, unprotected sex, misuse of alcohol (reader is a very sad drunk), both of them are actual idiots that will make you want to to scream ⚠️not beta-read yet, but will be updated with the edits soon⚠️ Word Count: 20.5k

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

The first thing Hyunjin understands when he comes to is how disgusting his mouth tastes. The faint, bitter taste of alcohol lingering on his tongue brings the memory of the night prior’s bad decisions; he’s never gone a single day in his life without brushing his teeth at night, in addition to the rest of his extensive pre-bedtime routine. The lack of moisture that pulls at his skin like a scratchy draft has him reaching for his nightstand, from where he’s burrowed in blankets like a corn dog. For a few embarrassing minutes, Hyunjin puts up a valiant effort trying to locate his special night repair face lotion solely with his flailing palm, before he’s rudely interrupted.

“Wake the fuck up, Sleeping Beauty.”

The strangely familiar, feminine yet husky voice brings him hurtling back into reality. Cautiously, Hyunjin retracts his arm and opens his eyes; the blinding light that meets them does not help his splitting headache that rivals the shaking faultlines of San Andreas.

When he finally adjusts to the brightness, he realizes that he’s in a room that’s definitely not his. The vast SolarSmart windows that would have already dimmed to match his sleepy blinking have been replaced by an antique bay window. Instead of the aristocratic fragrance of his favorite Le Labo candle, the air is thick with the smell of maple syrup. And his beloved Egyptian cotton sheets are gone in favor of a sherpa set that has him sweating in the year-round heat, which isn’t helped by the fact that this place isn’t humidity controlled.

“I’ve always thought of myself as more of a Rapunzel,” Hyunjin groans, stretching and tilting his head up to meet Lisa’s eyes. “You know, great hair and all.”

“Ha ha.” Lisa rolls her eyes, trying to maintain her expression of annoyance, but Hyunjin catches the hint of a smile on her lips; it’s inevitable, trying to fight the effect of his charms, especially when he’s just woken up all adorable and rumpled by sleep. “It’s almost noon, I thought I’d wake you up.”

“Noon?!” Hyunjin flies into a sitting position, frozen in an unfamiliar panic and unable to think of what to do next. By this time in his usual daily routine, he would have been enjoying a light lunch in his office while journaling in his gratitude notebook. Fuck, his stomach calls out for a nice balsamic arugula salad, maybe with a freshly-squeezed orange juice on the side to help with the regrettable effects of alcohol.

Lisa coughs lightly, bending down to pick up a discarded collection of clothing strewn on the floor, before handing it over to Hyunjin. The nausea rises up in Hyunjin’s stomach as he sifts through the clothes that he recognizes as his own. And then, as if in sudden remembrance, he looks down at himself and realizes that he’s completely naked except for his Gucci boxers. Horrified, he looks over at Lisa, but before he can say anything, she cuts him off.

“No. We didn’t have sex.” Lisa avoids Hyunjin’s eyes, picking at one of her burgundy-painted nails. She seems strangely skittish, in stark comparison to her confident, nearly feline-like mannerisms last night.

“Then what happened last night?” Hyunjin slips on his shirt and slides out of bed to pull his pants on, resolving to get dressed already right there; at this point, there is no more mortifying himself.

Lisa shrugs, an embarrassed blush overtaking her features. “We did some shots at the bar, before I suggested you come over for better drinks, so we could, well, you know. Hook-up. But you really did drink more. A lot more. And just as you took off your clothes, you blacked-out.”

“Blacked-out?” Hyunjin’s whole body feels racked with disbelief. And yet, the memories come fading back in: the botched matchmaking event, him retreating to drink away his sorrows, the handsy taxi ride back to Lisa’s place. “I barely even get tipsy.”

“It seemed like there was a lot on your mind last night. I don’t know what to say to you right now.” Lisa scratches her wrist lightly, as if trying to occupy herself while waiting for Hyunjin to get the hell out of her home. But the movement draws Hyunjin’s attention to her hand, where a fat, glimmering diamond rests on her ring finger, one that wasn’t there the previous night.

Realization flows in, ghastly and unwarranted. He clears his throat, tossing his jacket over his shoulders. “And you’re fucking married.”

Lisa freezes, the blood completely draining out of her face as her lips go paper thin. “I can explain.”

Hyunjin tilts his head with fresh resolve, taking his phone and wallet from where they’re fortunately perched on top of the nightstand. “Nope. I’m getting out of here. Looks like you’ve got some personal things going—”

“Hyunjin, I’m not married. Please, just—” Lisa quickly crosses in front of him, blocking the doorway, looking at him with pleading eyes. “I’m engaged.”

“Big difference that makes,” Hyunjin mutters, crossing his arms. Nevertheless, he waits for her to speak, softening when he catches the glimpse of pain flash in her eyes.

“My fiancé. He’s… I- I know he’s not working late all those nights, like he says he is.” Lisa exhales shakily, closing her eyes. “I know who you are. The Love Doctor. Initially, I thought I would talk to Hoseok, maybe book us an appointment with you. But then I saw you at the bar, and I don’t know, it felt like a sign.”

“And you wanted to make him hurt like he hurt you,” Hyunjin finishes for her. He’d had clients like Lisa, the vengeful wives looking to bite back at the ones who wronged them— he just never imagined that he would have almost been a part of such a plot.

She nods guiltily. “And I also just wanted to forget everything, even if it was going to be temporary. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, so when you fell asleep, I was kind of relieved.”

Hyunjin snorts and snaps back with no real malice in his words, just a hint of mirth. “Glad me blacking out worked well for you.”

Lisa shoots him a tiny, sheepish grin. “To be fair, I don’t think you really wanted to go through with it. When you were drunk, you kept repeating the same name over and over again.”

He stills at her response, remembering no such event. But of course it makes sense; there’s a certain someone lingering in his thoughts 24/7, and she has no plan of leaving him anytime soon. “I guess.”

If she notices the immediate color in Hyunjin’s cheeks, Lisa says nothing. She just shuffles to the side, letting Hyunjin exit the bedroom before leading him to the main entrance of her apartment. “Again, I’m sorry about everything, Hyunjin. I shouldn’t have tried to use you like that. I really am sorry.”

Hyunjin accepts her apology, a strange mix of sympathy and understanding unfurling in his stomach. After all, he tried doing the same thing, to find someone else to warm his bed and take his mind off of the one person he really wanted. It was a bad night for both of them. “You’re still welcome to find me anytime.”

“Thanks a lot.” Lisa gives him a smile, before it fades into something more playful, one that fits her better than any expression he’s seen on her so far. “If I’m being honest, though, you're not really my type.”

“You know exactly what I mean. Call my secretary and book an appointment if you ever want one. With or without your fiancé.” Hyunjin scoffs, glaring at Lisa over his shoulder as he walks away. “And I’m everyone’s type.”

When his Uber finally pulls up in front of Oasis, Hyunjin hurries up to his penthouse and tries to make the most out of the rest of the cruelly shortened day— after a quick shower to wash off the stench of alcohol and pine air freshener.

Hunched over a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch at his kitchen island, Hyunjin swipes through all of the pop-ups on his laptop, going through everything that he’s missed in the time during which he’d dissociated from all common sense. Everyday, Wonyoung makes sure Hyunjin stays up-to-date on all of his engagements by adding all of his event invitations to his Google calendar; Hyunjin spends a good few minutes clicking through everything, accepting all of his upcoming meetings. He’s been slacking off at work lately, skipping team lunches and sitting out on evening debriefs— but that’s all about to change, because Hyunjin needs to get his life back together again. And that includes making things right with you.

“Want to pull up for a quick afternoon appointment?” Hyunjin mouths out loud. He then makes a face and deletes the letter, groaning out loud. “This isn’t a high school date…”

After a few more failed attempts at trying to write a breezy but appropriate check-in email to you, Hyunjin resolves to call his no-nonsense secretary, knowing that the Velma to his Daphne would help him rediscover his suavity again. Maybe she could even catch him up on today’s SeoulSpark gossip that he’d missed, if they had time. But he underestimates her temper when she finally picks up after the fourth ring:

“Where the fuck were you?” Wonyoung screeches into the phone, making Hyunjin wince and pull his iPhone away from his ear. “Do you know how worried sick I was? How many times have I called you? You didn’t even show up to the brunch you had with the Carters! I had to practically beg Beyoncé not to drop us, only after promising her and Jay-Z five free sessions! I hope you’re ready to deal with the company's losses!”

“I’m sorry, I know, I know.” Hyunjin whines. “I know I’ve been really sidetracked, but I promise I’m making things right.”

“You’d better, Hyunjin.” Wonyoung bites, before taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. “I want you over at SeoulSpark on Monday at 6 AM, sharp. We will be going over each and every single client, and then making a game plan for the next five months. You have a meeting with Dr. Jeon, and then Mr. Jung. And Ms. Y/L/N requested an appointment last night, and you can most certainly afford it right now, so you’ll also be meeting with her. Respectfully, I suggest you get your ass over here as soon as possible.”

“Yes, yes— wait.” Hyunjin perks up, dropping his spoon into the soggy bowl of cereal, not minding the tiny droplets of milk that splash up at him. “Did you say Y/N?”

“What’s the matter?”

He shakes his head, dumping the remnants of his meal into the sink. “Nothing. I’ll see you!”

The slow drag of the days until the next week turns into a blur on Monday morning. Hyunjin pulls on a crisp white Celine t-shirt to go with a flowy pair of pleated trousers from the back of his closet, the kind of casual, chic outfit tailored that can always uplift any day. As a final touch, Hyunjin shrugs on a simple yet effective cardigan and dabs some cologne onto his wrists.

During the drive over to SeoulSpark, Hyunjin reflects on the fact that he’d be seeing you in just a few hours, even though he just saw you a few days ago. When you could barely look Hyunjin in the eye after his colossal blunder. When you’d run away to be far, far away from him, somewhere he couldn’t hurt you again. But he wouldn’t let that happen again, ever. You’re far too precious, and he doesn’t plan on losing you anytime soon, even if you’ll never know what you truly mean to him.

He sighs, parking Cami in her specially reserved spot in the SeoulSpark garage, before taking off his shades and heading inside. As soon as he steps through the sliding glass doors, he can barely muster up a ‘hello’ to his receptionist, Felix, before Wonyoung pounces on him. In the blink of an eye, Wonyoung has dragged him up to his office, where she sits him down at his desk and begins to ferociously rattle off his to-do list for the day.

Luckily, he’s saved by Dr. Jeon, who raps on the open door with a wry smile on his face. “Can I come in, Wonyoung, or are you still busy disciplining Hyunjin?”

Wonyoung huffs at him, before picking up her tablet and making her way out. “He’s all yours. Make it snappy, though. He has a full schedule.”

“Yes, Ms. Jang.” Dr. Jeon says with mock seriousness that makes Wonyoung shoot him a murderous glare, before making himself comfortable on the sofa and turning to Hyunjin. “Damn, where’d you buy this thing? I could take a fat nap here.”

“West Elm.” Hyunjin is unable to keep the smile off of his face. “What’s up, Jungkook?”

“Well, this is kind of an awkward question, if you don’t mind…” Jungkook shoots him a hopeful look, and Hyunjin gives him a nod to continue. “I was just wondering about the company policy about dating clients? It isn’t clear whether we’re allowed to or not, but I know it’s a little iffy.”

Hyunjin sits up in surprise, mind immediately going to you. The SeoulSpark guidelines on dating clients were never explicit to begin with, but it was kind of unsaid that dating clients is out of the question, especially when it could jeopardize business. Of course he’d thought about this before, on the nights when he had been feeling extra delusional over the thought of having you all to himself. But it could never be real.

“What’s this all about, Jungkook?” Hyunjin shifts in his seat warily. “We generally advise against it, even after clients decide to end their memberships. It’s messy territory, one that we try to avoid.”

Jungkook clears his throat. “I mean, she’s not even my client. I think she’s one of yours, actually. She caught my eye at the matchmaking event yesterday— she was wearing this sexy blue sundress. Y/N was her name, I think? I thought, I don't know, that I could maybe ask her out or something? If she didn’t have any matches?”

Oh, hell no.

Hyunjin’s blood immediately goes cold. He likes Jungkook— a lot, actually. He’s a good colleague and friend, and a great drinking buddy when he feels up to it. Jungkook has tagged along with him and Seungmin quite often, whenever they decide to go out to find someone to warm their beds for the night. The topic of women has never been foreign between them, especially in a setting like SeoulSpark. But his woman? Absolutely not.

Even if you aren’t actually his, Hyunjin would rather break Jungkook’s annoyingly perfect nose than see his hands all over you, and that’s saying something, because Hyunjin hates killing even mosquitos. Jungkook watching you laugh over a plate of pasta. Jungkook helping you into his car. Jungkook kissing you while he brings heaven to you in his bed. All of the things that Hyunjin should get to do.

Technically, it wouldn’t be the end of the world for SeoulSpark if Jungkook dated you, especially since you aren’t his client— but it would be for Hyunjin. Hell if Jeon Jungkook, the notorious player of SeoulSpark, would have you in his stead.

“No.”

Jungkook frowns. “But—”

“I said no, Dr. Jeon. Don’t make me repeat myself,” Hyunjin snaps coldly, barely fazed by that uncharacteristic iciness in his own tone. “Please see yourself out, and come to me when you have something actually useful to discuss.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, running his hands through his hair. “You seem to be in a mood today, Hyunjin. But whatever, I’ll back off. See you later, I guess.”

Hyunjin knows he should feel bad as he watches Jungkook shrink out his view, but all he has is a vicious sense of satisfaction. That’ll teach him— Christ, is he jealous? Hwang Hyunjin doesn’t get jealous. The world is an oyster, and you, his shimmering pearl. He really is so screwed.

The next few hours are a blur, as Hyunjin does his best to be attentive as he sits through meetings with his executive team, including the one with his Chief Marketing Officer, Jung Hoseok, to discuss potential brand partnerships that would be good for SeoulSpark. He deserves an award for not falling asleep during the very essential Zoom call to confirm whether he should allow his face to be stamped onto a cat food brand (the answer was no, he’s forever a dog person).

By the time the sun has dipped below the horizon, Hyunjin has finished meeting with his second-to-last client of the day, Yang Jeongin, that brazen college student who had talked back to him during his TED talk. Poor guy had been through so much, really, with a history of being dumped, the latest offender being a cheating girlfriend who had effectively ruined his outlook on life. But over the past few months, Hyunjin had been able to chip through that broken exterior to find a brilliant young man in need of just a push in the right direction. He reminds Hyunjin of you so much.

“Thanks, Hyun. I’ll see you next week.” Jeongin waves goodbye at Hyunjin, who’s already rifling through his desk drawer for his compact mirror and breath mints.

Hyunjin flashes him a quick smile. “You too, Jeongin.”

As quick as Jeongin has left, the feeling of being alone washes away when you step into the room, knocking the wind out of Hyunjin’s lungs, as always. Today, you’ve foregone those usual pinks, a constant that Hyunjin had loved so much about your outfits. Nevertheless, you’re stunning; the sea-green floral maxi dress floats delicately around your ankles, and Hyunjin has to mentally kick himself to stop staring at the dainty line of buttons crossed along the ruched bust of the bodice.

“There you are!” Hyunjin beams like the sun, the stress of the day’s burdens melting away.

But instead of getting all cute and flustered at his theatrics like you always do, you give him a thin smile and sit down on the couch. “Hey, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin tries not to let the concern flood into his logic, but it’s impossible, when it comes to you. However, he makes a valiant effort in crossing his legs and trying to hide the turbulence of emotions beneath his skin by plastering a placid expression onto his face. “So… want to talk about last week?”

“There’s not much to talk about.” You shrug and avoid Hyunjin’s gaze, looking out the window with a forlorn glint in your eyes.

“Darling, please.” Hyunjin breaks. He gets up from behind his desk and folds himself into the space next to you, failing to maintain his impartiality. He hates to see you like this, like you so steadfastly believe that you’re alone, when he’s been here for you the entire time. “Open up to me.”

You look directly into Hyunjin’s eyes, prompting a shiver to run down his spine. He wishes you could look at him like that while forcing him down onto his knees. “I had sex with Han Jisung.”

Of everything, hearing that was not on Hyunjin’s 2023 bingo card. For a moment, he just gapes at you in shock. As your dating coach, he never thought you’d be ready to become intimate with someone so soon, especially the guy who made you run off in horror just a few days prior. And as the person who is secretly in love with you, he could never actually imagine you with anyone except for him. Yet, he now has the wonderful, vivid image of you and Han Jisung getting it on. How nice.

And then comes the complete fury. But before he can act upon it, throwing aside his zen policy to bestow you with an aggressive line of questioning— that he is absolutely not entitled to, at all— you hold up your hand, shutting him up.

“And I think we should stop seeing each other.”

In that moment, nothing but utter horror slashes through every fiber of Hyunjin’s being. Of all of the scenarios he’d gone through in his mind, the worst case is actually happening— goddamnit, universe. What would the point of life be if you weren’t in his, anymore? “Are you… are you breaking up with me?”

You give Hyunjin a pitiful smile that makes him want to go crawl into a hole somewhere and die. “That’s one way to put it, I guess. But I’m your client. This is a good sign.”

That’s not all you are. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This can’t be real.

“You know what I mean!”

“Shouldn’t you be happy for me?” You purse your lips. “I guess I’ve finally moved on from Jisung, now that I’ve slept with someone else. I can finally go forth in the world without his shadow holding me back. I’m completely over it.”

Hyunjin closes his eyes, lightly massaging his temples using the stress-prevention technique that his old masseuse taught him before she moved back to Thailand. It doesn’t work. Fuck, is he sweating? “Well, I think you’re not completely over it. This is a step, not the destination. Having sex with a guy you just met is definitely not what we programmed into your love life GPS— we’re still driving! Besides, you still have a month of sessions left on your contract!”

“Uhhh, okay.” You give Hyunjin a puzzled look that makes him cringe inwardly— fuck his fruity metaphors. “Either way, I just don’t think I need your help anymore, to be honest. But I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“No.” Hyunjin shakes his head stubbornly, resolve set deep inside of him. If you wanted him to get all technical and make himself sound like a pretentious prick, then fine. Anything to keep you from leaving. “As the person who you have entrusted to provide you with a professional opinion, I do not accept your rationale for ending our contract. It’s sudden, and you’d just be wasting your own money because everything was prepaid. It doesn’t make sense for you to go like this, don’t you think? Talk to me.”

And Hyunjin sees you pause, the doubt written across your gorgeous features. You put on a little eyeliner today, and when your eyes crinkle in doubt, the winged ends of the liner downturn, making you look impossibly cute. Hyunjin wants nothing more than to kiss that pout on your lips— not smooth it away, but make it his, somehow, to watch you look down at him with that same expression when he’s on his knees for you.

He waits with bated breath, until you finally throw your hands up, relenting. “Okay. Alright. But only because I have a month left. After that, I won’t be renewing the contract.”

You grumpily sit back down on the sofa, and Hyunjin has to clench his jaw to keep from grinning like an idiot. “So, tell me. What’s gotten you so worked up?”

You sigh, looking away from Hyunjin as you toy with one of the beads on the skirt of your dress. You take your time thinking, and Hyunjin doesn’t rush you, wanting you to be as authentic as possible when providing him with an answer. “There’s this guy…”

Hyunjin then feels all of the blood drain out of face right then. If the abrupt announcement of your departure from SeoulSpark’s services had not sent him into a panic, then this definitely did. He sees that unsure yet determined look in your eye, the kind he’s observed appearing whenever you have a strong opinion to share, the thoughts of other people be damned.

“Who… who is it?” He manages to spit out, thinking back to his go-to metaphoric fork and stabbing himself in the thigh with it, over and over again, to keep himself in place. “Someone from the matchmaking event?”

“It’s not any of those guys, no. You probably don’t even know him. Some guy from work,” you explain quickly, prompting a fresh wave of confusion to wash over Hyunjin. “But that’s not the point. He’s, um, always on my mind. I can’t stop thinking about him, no matter how much I don’t want to. Because, for obvious reasons, I can’t be with him. And I don’t want to hurt him, because the pain from the past— from Jisung— is still there, even if I don’t love him anymore. I don’t trust myself with love.”

Love? Is that what this is? Do you love whoever this useless idiot is?

Hyunjin’s thoughts cower in betrayal, even though you owe him absolutely nothing. He shakes them away, focusing on everything else you’ve just confided in him with. “It’s okay to not be completely over the past. You might never be, and that’s okay, because what you went through was traumatic. That kind of hurt sticks, and you’re strong for trying to move forward. But you can’t let the fear of the unknown stop you.”

You shake your head. “But it’s too significant to ignore, that fear. My worst nightmare is hurting him like Jisung did to me. What if I end up doing that, Hyunjin? What if I leave him, like Jisung left me?”

“Don’t compare yourself to that piece of shit,” Hyunjin says sharply, making you jump a little. Normally, he’d apologize for coming on too strong, but he couldn’t. Not when you talk about yourself like that. “And it’s just a risk you’re going to have to take. And if he’s really worth it, then he’ll stay by your side no matter what.”

I would. I wouldn’t ever fucking leave you.

Before you can say anything, Hyunjin keeps going, unable to restrain himself from asking this next question, because he has to know. He has to know if you truly mean it. “So, the question is, do you think he is? Is he worth it?”

“I love who I am because of him,” you state, and with the way your voice doesn’t even waver, Hyunjin knows it to be completely true. “I’m ten times less pessimistic than I usually am. He makes me feel like a morning person, even though I’m not. And I actually want to do more with my life, see everything it has to offer. He makes me a better person, but I never feel forced to do anything for his attention, for the way he cares.”

“He- he sounds wonderful,” Hyunjin responds, and he’s trying— he really is— but he just doesn’t believe he can be genuine, not now. Not when he feels his heart breaking inside, not when he knows he’s a selfish bastard who should be celebrating you. And what did he fucking expect? That someone wouldn’t see a diamond and pick it up, keeping it for themselves? He’s so, so stupid.

“He is.” You give him a meaningful look that makes his head spin. Now, what does that mean? Hyunjin doesn’t have it in him to be an interpreter today, strolling across the shoreline rocks of your mind, trying to decipher what today’s tides bring. It’s his literal job to know what you’re thinking, and yet, today his mind is completely clear of any sense of logic.

“He makes me feel seen, even if he may never feel the same,” you continue, biting your lip. “He’s the most beautiful person I know.”

“I’m not supposed to say this, but anyone who wouldn’t return your feelings is a total idiot.” Hyunjin smiles at the way you shoot him a skeptical look. He wants to at least try to convey even a single sign that tells you that he’s glad you’ve found someone good, someone that could make you happy— what he could never do for you himself. “And I’m glad, Y/N. It’s a good thing we still have a month, because I can tell that there’s still some unease on your end, because you’re clearly holding yourself back. I just want the best for you.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m sorry if I was making a scene. I just so want to be done with all of this fixing. I just want to be ready to let go of all of that baggage, and I guess I was in a rush to do so.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize. Trust me, I get the feeling, more than you know.” Hyunjin reaches across and places his hand on yours, trying to relax you. “It’s okay to want to move on. It’s okay to be frustrated. And it’s okay to want someone. Let yourself be happy, because ultimately, you’re the only one who can control that, no one else.”

For the first time during your meeting today, you break out into a smile, and Hyunjin has to blink to readjust him to the sight. It’s like a rainbow has cut through a stormy sky, joining in a perfect Yin and Yang. Hyunjin loves all of you, both the color and the tempest, because together, they make you who you are. He wouldn’t change you for the world; all he’s ever done for you was try to make you realize that yourself.

“You are such a gift, Hyunjin,” you say fondly, and Hyunjin has to remind himself that it’s because you see him as a friend, as a confidante. It would never be in the way he completely wants it to be, and he’ll have to make his peace with that, for you.

“I know. All I’m missing is a big pink bow,” Hyunjin jokes, plastering a smile onto his face. For the first time ever, he wishes you would walk out of his office, taking with you your infectious laugh and incandescent gaze. You can’t be here when he falls apart like he so badly needs to.

You laugh, thankfully not sensing his internal turmoil. “Alright, Hyunjin. I have to get going. But I’ll see you next week?”

He nods, rising as you stand and turn for the door. “Of course. Have a good one, darling.”

“Same goes for you.” You reach up and give his shoulder a little squeeze, before you’re walking away, too soon and yet, not fast enough.

From where you touched him over his cardigan, Hyunjin’s skin burns with desire. But it isn’t enough to keep him from clumsily shutting the door closed behind him as he stumbles back inside of his office. He screws his eyes shut and tries to rapidly think of a list of his favorite things. Pink roses. Sequined Versace blazers. Puppies. Monet paintings.

But he should know by now that such sorrow is inevitable. It was written in his fate, the moment he set his eyes and heart upon you, knowing he would never get that happy ending. After all, he’s the Love Doctor, not a miracle worker. He knows this to be true especially when he feels a dampness on his cheeks and thinks it to be some kind of bewitched rain that’s able to fall inside his office. It’s only when he looks into his compact mirror that he realizes that he’s crying, broken and hopelessly gone for you.

That did not go well. You walked into SeoulSpark with a plan and had promptly failed, when Hyunjin decided to persuade you into staying. But you gave in to his pretty eyes and assuaging words, conveniently forgetting about the half-hour long promises you made with yourself in the morning.

You were supposed to end your contract, regardless of whether you would be wasting your money or not. That would have been a small price to pay for the pain of love. And you know you’re right, because you start to cry during your shameful walk through the parking lot.

You don’t know what it is that made you open up so profoundly to Hyunjin, past the point where it was safe to conceal your feelings for him. But you just had to keep speaking, going so far as to describe Hyunjin as the object of all of your agitation and pretending like it was someone else that he had no idea of. You’re a fraud, and your only consolation is that Hyunjin sees you so platonically that he probably would never catch onto your feelings. After all, in what world would someone like you being with someone of his caliber ever make any sense? And it’s ironic, really, that you’ve fallen for him, the person who is there to help you find someone else to spend lonely nights with.

After unlocking your car, you collapse into the front seat, letting all of your emotions out for a good few minutes into the night. When the sides of your face finally begin to dry, you open your eyes with a groan, turning the key in the ignition and driving back home.

You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, because that godforsaken networking party was looming sooner in the future than you’d like, and you still had to buy something to wear. Your current wardrobe was much more vibrant than it had been just a few months ago, the jeans and plaid blazers hidden behind fluttery sundresses and silky skirts. However, it was all far too casual for the heightened class that you knew the event would require, and therefore, you’d recruited Yeonjun to help you shop, with the promise of all of his meals being paid for the next day.

As soon as you get home, you toss your keys onto the little side table next to the doorway with a huff, knocking your heels off and not bothering to arrange them neatly back onto your shoe stand. With the efficiency of a carpenter ant on a mission, you march into your bathroom and slip out of that god-awful dress, changing into a pair of soft pink pajamas with a magenta heart pattern printed all over them. The set had caught your eye as you were strolling through Costco the other day, a little more expensive than you’d like, but they reminded you of Hyunjin, so into the cart they went. You could allow yourself this comfort, you tell yourself.

Once freshened up, you head into the kitchen, dumping some leftover pasta into a bowl to heat it up, glowering at the microwave as the seconds tick by far too slowly. And as always, you eat at your crappy dining table, alone. Just this morning, you had been sitting in this same place, brainstorming ways to secure project funding, navigating the path to reviving your old startup, ITEM.

Before Hyunjin, you had ditched the excitement of indulging in work, your passion, for more self-destructive, wasteful behavior. In the past few months, after meeting him, there was this renewed sense of productivity in you— he inspired you, made you ache to find your own success in the world. So even though Mark denied you the opportunity to participate in the upcoming function, you disobeyed him and secretly went through with your own idea anyway, especially after hearing through the office grapevine that a lot of big-name investors would be attending. Somehow, you decided, you would figure out a way to present to them and achieve your dream. It was optimistic, maybe a little foolishly so, but that hadn’t bothered you.

Today, however, you felt this sense of loss that hadn’t touched you in a while. It was nothing related to work, fortunately, but still, you couldn’t focus, mind wandering to your meeting with Hyunjin at the end of the day. For the first time, the thought of him was hurting you, not motivating you. And it still hurts you, with the way you disinterestedly poke at your fettuccine.

So when you go to bed that night, touching yourself to the thought of him doesn’t have the same velvety allure to it. No, it’s more of a physiological need that forces its way into your hand that glides down your body. It’s the rabic, animalistic desire that drives the tips of your fingers under the waistband of your shorts. It’s the anguish, the longing, that makes you spread your legs, hips bucking up against the mattress.

You had smiled at him, earlier today, after that short drama you’d exerted, when he calmed you down and placated you with a soft, but commanding tone. You had poured your heart out to him, holding back just his name on the tip of your tongue, and he had listened. And you had feigned being amiable, and he accepted it, when in reality, you were so fucking furious with Hyunjin.

After you paraded into his office like a brat, demanding to end the contract as if you cared nothing as to what he might think, he had still treated you with so much understanding, with a quiet concern. You haven’t lost your temper in a long time now, but Hyunjin never failed to respond so well, so kindly to you. In every way that you were irked, he remained calm and gracious. It makes you inexplicably angry, so much that you just want to scream into the cool Angeles night air, letting the sound reverberate off the crumbling buildings of your shitty neighborhood. You hate how good is to you almost as much as you despise yourself in your absolute lowest moments, moments like these. You don’t want the sensuality of his gaze washing over you, worshiping you. You don’t want to melt into his touch, let him take care of you. You don’t want to fuck him like a lover would— no, you want his tears, you want to ruin him like he has done so easily to you.

You think of Hyunjin and his lovely, lovely mouth. A lip pulled in between his teeth in thought, slightly slick with spit when he licks them before speaking. You want to feel the stretch of them around your fingers as you force them into his mouth, choking him and chasing away his breathy complaints.

You close your eyes, the image of you working yourself with your fingers fading in favor of imagining Hyunjin doing it for you instead. You, gripping his wrist harshly, pumping Hyunjin’s own fingers into yourself, berating him for not being able to do it well enough on his own.

Then you’d slap his hands away, pushing him onto your bed and straddle his narrow hips, grinding your dripping pussy onto his thighs while getting off both in the friction and Hyunjin’s pleas for you to ride his cock instead.

But when you decide to put an end to his torture, it wouldn’t be for his pleasure. You want to fuck Hyunjin hard, fuck him sore, the minuscule gap between your bodies clogged and messy with sweat and a mixture of arousal and saliva, from where you’d spit onto his cock. You want him on his back, staring up at you hopefully as he falls apart, begging you to let him come. You want to refuse him, snap at him and make it mean, but he’ll come anyway, guilt and arousal on his beautiful face. Of course he’ll have to clean up his own mess, sucking obediently on your fingers covered with the come you had retrieved from where it was splattered between your legs.

And then you’d kiss him, slow and deep, nothing like how you took him apart under the sheets. You’d cup his face and whisper praises, running your hands down his body. Declarations of love would fall from your lips, because no matter how much he worked you up, the truth would never change.

You finish to that final thought, barely hearing the shameful, wet sounds of you abusing your cunt with your fingers that thrust in and out of yourself wildly. But even though you have already come, you cup your pussy again and run your finger, feather-light, through your folds, imagining it was Hyunjin’s lips placing a kiss there, instead. Imagining that no matter how many spiteful words you spat at him during the time you fucked him, he knew that you would never hate him. You understand, that no matter how enraged you have the potential to be, you will never, ever hate Hyunjin. Because you love him— so much that it hurts.

“You’d think that my body was made for Gucci, but there’s something about Privé that turns me on so bad.”

You fight the urge to gag as Yeonjun brings the ugly sweatshirt up to his chest, holding it up in front of the mirror in an attempt to model it on his scrawny frame. You briskly snatch it out of his hands and shove it back onto its hanger, grasping your cousin’s hand like a mother and her toddler.

“Stop talking about brands like you want to fuck them,” you scold him. Yeonjun rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation, but doesn’t try to wriggle out of your hold when you drag him to the women’s section. Sometimes, you feel like you’re an exasperated single parent, toting him around and snapping at him to behave, even though he is barely three years younger than you.

As you enter the evening wear end of the department store, you let go of Yeonjun to sift through the variety of fabrics available. He gleefully bounces around, swishing through the dresses you’re both drowning in and nearly knocking a couple of them off of their racks. But you can’t find it in yourself to chide him again, not when he looks so happy to be here with you. Not that you would ever let him know that you have the capacity to be soft when it comes to him.

“This beats working on job applications,” Yeonjun sighs, sticking his arm through an armhole on a particularly gaudy tea gown. You snicker at how the satin pools beneath his underarms, making him look like a child cosplaying in their mother’s old outfits.

“How’s senior year? I haven’t even been asking you about school, lately.” The last part is less of a rationale for your question to him, and more of a surprised self-proclamation on your end. You can’t remember the last time you ever listened to Yeonjun complain about his ancient professors and weird roommate. The thought fills you with a certain sense of regret; you might not have a lot, but Yeonjun has always been there for you. Most of the time, he annoys you to no end, but his constant presence reminds you that you’re never alone.

The playfulness melts out of Yeonjun’s demeanor, a sight to see with someone who is always so easy-going, never taking life seriously. But you see the somber look in his eyes as he turns to gaze at you critically. “You’ve got a lot going on, I know that.”

You flush, mind automatically going to Hyunjin. Outside of the slice of your day in which you are truly focused on work, the rest of your time goes into dreaming about the attainable object of your fantasies. Eat, sleep, work, and think about Hyunjin. “I— yeah. Work’s been crazy. And reopening ITEM, as well. But that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

Yeonjun gives you a wry little smile, foxy and sly. “Work. Sure. Definitely not a certain sexy ass dating coach, right?”

For a guy that presents himself to be so unendingly superficial, Yeonjun has the ability to read people in the snap of a finger. You don’t understand why he tries to act so vapid when he has such a capacity— if you had such a power, you’d use it to no end.

Your cheeks flush, embarrassingly evident. “Got me there, but I’ve already reached a resolution about him. I’ll go through with the rest of the contract, pull away gradually, and then stop seeing him. Easy.”

Except it is not easy, and both of you know it. Yeonjun rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “I just don’t get it. Why are you so down bad for him? He’s pretty, don’t get me wrong, but there are a lot of pretty people. He’s the guy who’s supposed to be setting you up with other people. Like, you’re not supposed to be falling for him.”

“I know, Jun,” you sigh. “But I think we’re more alike than outward perceptions allow. I feel like he never really lets his guard down around other people. I just wish I could have the chance to make him feel as seen as he does for me. He’s like no one I’ve ever met.”

Yeonjun stays quiet for a long moment, scrutinizing the way you lower your eyes and resume haphazardly shuffling through the dresses. “I think you should tell him how you feel.”

You would burst into laughter at how ridiculous his proposition is, except it’s not funny at all. “Now that would be crossing the line. Our relationship is completely platonic. Imagine how uncomfortable it would be, to find out that the client you’re trying to help connect with others falls for you instead? I couldn’t do that to Hyunjin.”

“I think Hyunjin still deserves to know. He’s your dating coach, Y/N. If there’s anyone who can understand you, it’s him, because if he really cares about you, nothing about your relationship will change. And who knows, maybe he reciprocates. You never know.”

Listening to your cousin give you such advice makes you feel strange, but not in an unpleasant way. You truly are thankful for it, even if you might not completely trust in it. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Jun.”

Yeonjun looks like he wants to say more, but he seems to notice the note of finality in your voice and decides to move on. “Back to me. Ask me again, about how school’s going, and I’ll tell you all of the tea.”

“How is school going?”

“Oh, thank God you asked. Beomgyu is still trying to get me to feature on his OnlyFans, but even though he’s a little creepy with it, he’s the only one who agrees to come thrift shopping with me. And he’s a pretty chill roommate overall, so I can’t really complain. Ugh, and it turns out, my evil ex is still obsessed with me…”

You grin and listen to Yeonjun ramble on about his very animated life at UCLA, thankful for the distraction as you comb through the racks. After a few minutes of tuning into Yeonjun’s story about how he walked in on Beomgyu hooking up with some guy named Jeongin, you freeze, because you meet eyes with the one person you wished you would never see again. Yeonjun’s babbling comes to a jarring stop, and you both just stare at the monster who tried to ruin your life.

“Y/N! Is that you?”

He saunters forward as you stay rooted to where you are, and it’s like he has walked right out of an old photo album carrying the bitter memories of your past. You recognize those round, sparkling doe eyes, the ones that reminded you of the dark pearls in the milk tea drinks you both would always share at night markets. The same choppy, boyish haircut streaked with caramel, the locks you would quietly run your fingers through after every time you forgave him. That delicate, nearly fairy-like face, the one that you could never bring yourself to hate, no matter how much he pushed you. Park Jisung has not changed one bit, except for the space you used to clutch on his arms has now been occupied by someone new.

The girl is stunning, you can admit, but on closer look, you realize that it’s Kazuha Nakamura, the last girl he cheated on you with, the one that severed the final threads of your relationship. She, on the other hand, looks completely different, with her blonde curls chopped into a dark Brazilian-permed lob that swishes when she tilts her head down derisively, surveying you from head-to-toe. She looks like the epitome of the girl that Jisung was always trying to get you to be, stuck into the mold of a life predetermined for her. And for the first time in a long time, you’re glad you didn’t fit.

You regain your bearings a moment later after the initial shock wears off, when Park Jisung laughs, a deep, rumbling sound that contrasts with the way Kazuha titters next to him. But instead of acknowledging Jisung, you turn to Kazuha first instead.

“Kazuha! What a surprise!” You smile sweetly at her while she just gapes at you blankly, clearly surprised by your absence of hostility. In the periphery of your eye, you can see Jisung ball his fists at his side, ever the narcissist to be irked by even a slight dearth of attention. “You look great, girl!”

“And you look exactly the same, Jisung,” Yeonjun says flatly in a way that obviously conveys insult, before slinging a protective arm around your shoulder. You stifle a snort, and watch the way Jisung rolls his eyes.

“Ever a delight, aren’t you, Yeonjun?” Jisung shoots him a venomous smile, that Yeonjun responds to with a cheesy little salute. This time, you can’t contain the chuckle that escapes your lips.

Before anyone can say more, you pipe up, determined to have the last word in the conversation you have no intention of repeating. “It was wonderful to see you, Jisung. You and Kazuha make a lovely pair— hope it works out!”

With one last gracious nod of your head, you loop your arm through Yeonjun’s and move past where Jisung and Kazuha stand rooted to the spot, speechless. As you and Yeonjun flounce away, you feel Jisung’s gaze burning into the back of your neck, but you don’t care. Not anymore.

“Damn, and I thought I’d get to watch a fight today. I really would have liked to see that dickwad get his just desserts,” Yeonjun grumbles, but you see the impressed look on his face.

You feel an unfamiliar rush of both adrenaline and triumph coursing through your veins; you saved your anger, and yet, you know you’ve won. For months, you told yourself that if you ever got the chance to tell Jisung off, you would use it. But the thought didn’t bring you as much satisfaction as it did before, and besides, you have someone more worth your tears now. Seeing Jisung again didn’t affect you as much as it once would have, because you finally, truly have moved on. And comparably, your current predicament seems much more daunting than some loser who never deserved you.

“They looked like morons when we didn’t give them the reaction they wanted. Besides, I’m taking the high road.”

“You’re boring when you’re not a bitch.”

“Thanks.” You grin, pausing your gait when you see it. The giddiness drains into something more mournful as you take in the dress, delicate folds of pink chiffon that dissolve into a painstakingly threaded gold-beaded skirt. “This is the one, Jun.”

Yeonjun doesn’t miss the beat of sadness in your voice, the thickness of your words. “Seriously though, you don’t have to talk about Jisung, but I feel like that’s not who you’re upset about. You don’t seem okay.”

“I’ve found my peace with Jisung, but there’s still something else.” You inhale sharply. “I’m in love with Hyunjin.”

He stays quiet for a moment, before taking the dress off of the rack for you. “This is on me.”

“I appreciate it, but you don’t have to—”

“I want to. And if you’re not busy tonight, I have somewhere to be, and I’d like it if you came with me. What do you say?”

You’re not oblivious— you recognize the sympathy, Yeonjun’s clear attempt to cheer you up, a switch-up from the banter you usually trade. Before, you would refuse, retreating home to bury yourself deeper into a hole. But for once, you don’t want to push away the people who care about you. So you accept and look forward, accepting the poignance of it all.

“Hwang Hyunjin, you’d better get your ass over here on time, or else I’ll—”

Hyunjin bursts into a dramatic fit of coughing, cutting off Seungmin’s nagging. “Remind me to take you to one of my yoga sessions. Your chakras are seriously off, but there’s nothing that Dr. Sachet can’t fix.”

“Hyunjin.”

“I know! I just got here, Seungmin.” Hyunjin sighs, ending the call before Seungmin has the chance to say anything further. He slides his phone into his pocket, already regretting his choice to accept Seungmin’s request— which was actually more of a demand— to be his plus-one at his college reunion.

Any other day, he would have loved to ditch his introverted activities to accompany his best friend to get tipsy and gossip about everyone’s glow ups. Today, however, all he really wants to do is curl up in his bed with Princess Diana and binge-watch Friends. But alas, his loyalty— and fear— for Seungmin won out, and now here he is, standing in a rounded glass elevator on his way up to Highlight, the upscale rooftop bar venue of the event.

When the elevator finally reaches the top floor, the telltale bell dings, opening the door into what can only be described as high-end chaos: people decked out in crisp suits and cocktail dresses and jewels, as they crowd around the lighted bar counters, shouting out their drink orders to harried bartenders while trying to brag about how successful they’ve become over the past few years. Waiters walk around, serving hors d'oeuvres to the guests that promptly ignore them, and the orchestral jazz, courtesy of the live band crowded into the corner, is drowned out by the raucous laughter of a group of men situated at a section of tables next to the windows. The whole effect is ridiculously ostentatious, and even Hyunjin has to restrain himself from letting his lip curl with disgust.

“Fuck, there you are.” Hyunjin feels a warm hand on his shoulder, and turns to see Seungmin staring at him with an overwhelmed look in his eye.

Hyunjin takes in his friend for a moment, admiring his black and white silk polka dot shirt that’s tucked into a pair of belted navy slacks. At least someone at this place had style, and it’s always a pleasure for it to be Seungmin, as by now, Hyunjin has gotten used to seeing him wearing bloodied scrubs. “You look good, man. But why in the world would you want to come here and see all of these jerks?”

Seungmin shrugs, and Hyunjin is surprised to see a slight blush overtake his features. He traces Seungmin’s wandering gaze over to the edge of the open balcony, where a devastatingly handsome man strangely stands on his own, sipping on his cocktail while observing the view of skyscrapers stretching out around the building. Ah.

“He’s Seungcheol, isn’t he? Your old crush that you never talked to? That’s why we’re here?” Hyunjin teases, remembering those nights when he got Seungmin tipsy enough to confess his unrequited feelings for Choi Seungcheol, the resident heartbreaker of the pre-med student body at UCLA.

“Shut the fuck up.” Seungmin grumbles, but his complexion betrays him, turning as red as a tomato.

Hyunjin laughs heartily, thanking a passing waitress before accepting a mango and vanilla parfait from her tray. “Alright.”

And then it’s Seungmin’s turn to check out Hyunjin, who strikes a little pose and preens at the attention. “I don’t know how, but even with all of your designer shit, you never seem like a dick.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Hyunjin grins. Hyunjin never dresses to appease the dress code— instead, he makes it his bitch, and does it in a way that’s classy, not ostentatious. It’s clear in today’s sophisticated yet roguish ensemble: a crisp white Givenchy suit paired with Nike Air Forces to deflate the grandiose of the former brand. And the sheer black tank top and silver chain-link necklace under his oversized blazer was just enough to add a touch of gender-bending sexiness.

The corner of Seungmin’s mouth quirks up, and he hooks his arm into Hyunjin’s, steering him towards a high table tucked into a more quiet section of the bar. “Having fun, Hyun?”

Hyunjin fights a smile. “Moresoe now that you’re here with me, babe.”

That is Seungmin’s cue to shove Hyunjin away, who continues to bat his lashes prettily. “I hate you. I should’ve asked Nicholas the hot nurse to be my date instead.”

“But then you couldn’t flirt with our Seungcheol!”

Seungmin groans, head falling onto the table, lolling to the side hopelessly. “I don’t even know how to approach him, though. I mean, did you see him? He just managed to get even more gorgeous! His hair? His height? He’s totally out of my league.”

Hyunjin immediately morphs into wingman mode. “Trust me, I can just tell he has a thing for cute nerds. And, not to be crass, but his body language screams brat tamer.”

“I am not a brat,” Seungmin scowls.

“Touché.”

After a few more minutes of hyping Seungmin up, Hyunjin triumphantly sits back and watches his friend slink off in the direction of Seungcheol; he snickers to himself when Seungmin tentatively taps on Seungcheol’s shoulder, shaking like a fangirl about to ask a celebrity for a picture. Seungcheol turns, a friendly beam cutting across his stern features. Seungmin says something indiscernible to Seungcheol that makes him laugh, and that’s Hyunjin’s sign to leave the rest to his friend.

By this time, the company around him has eased slightly, with everyone digging into the buffet-style dinner that the caterers have set out.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Hyunjin mutters under his breath, thinking back to the flimsy cup of ramyun that he had scarfed down earlier. He picks up a plate from one of the long tables and gets in line, mouth already watering at the spread of food. After loading his plate with copious helpings of every dish of carbs in sight, he also makes sure to secure dessert, snagging a couple pastries and slices of cake. The gaggle of ladies behind him shoot him pointed looks, but he ignores them, walking away to find seating; he’s needed this, after the week he’s had.

He winds up sitting next to a giddy couple that just cannot keep their hands off of each other. Most of the time, when he winds up somewhere with people who exhibit excessive public displays of affection, he tries to discreetly slip away or make himself as unknown as possible, the hopeless romantic in him quietly cheering them on. Now, however, he unceremoniously plops onto the farthest end of the loveseat opposite of them, all alone and just grateful that the food is good.

“Earth to Hyunjin!”

Hyunjin looks up, mouth stuffed embarrassingly full of a caprese salad sandwich. “Mrph?”

Seungmin stands there, hands on his knees while he pants a little to catch his breath. “You will not believe what just happened.”

“Well, what happened?”

“Seungcheol and I are going out to dinner tomorrow!” Seungmin huffs, cheeks flushed a bright red as he looks over at Seungcheol where he’s standing by the elevator. Seungcheol gives him a shy smile before quickly looking away. Seungmin smirks and leans down to speak into Hyunjin’s ear. “And he just asked me if I have any plans for the rest of the night.”

He leans back to gauge Hyunjin’s reaction, which, in Hyunjin’s knowledge of his friend, does not disappoint. Hyunjin gasps theatrically and nearly drops his plate in trying to clap him on the back in congratulations. “That’s my man!”

“That’s right!”

Hyunjin grins. “Even your ship name would be cute. 2Seung. Meant to be.”

“You’re such a dork.” Seungmin rolls his eyes, but fails to hide his blush. “Now, I’m gonna go get railed by the man of my dreams.”

Hyunjin bids Seungmin goodbye, remaining enthusiastic up until the moment he sees Seungmin and Seuncheol take their leave. As soon as they do, he lets his smile fall. He’s happy for Seungmin, really. He just wishes it could be him disappearing into that glass elevator with his lover. He would press you up against that heavy gold railing that rounds the inside, kissing you as you begin your descent down the building. Kissing you as fireworks go off in the distance, brighter than the Los Angeles skyline. Kissing you even when the elevator door opens, an irked crowd of people waiting to get in. He wishes he could flaunt you off to everyone in the world, show everyone how perfect you are for him.

Hyunjin is so lost in his muddled, wistful thoughts that he doesn’t notice the couch dip, someone just as miserable as him occupying the tiny space next to him.

“Hyunjin?”

He turns his head, slowly, to see you, of all people, glaring at him with a bewildered expression on your face. He remains in a momentary stunned silence, taking in the slight redness of your nose, how watery your eyes are. The space in between your eyebrows that’s painfully scrunched. The way your lips are pressed together tightly. You’ve been crying. Still gorgeous, no matter what.

“Darling?”

For the second time today, you are caught off guard. You have been stewing in your loneliness all evening, ruminating over your hopelessly unrequited love. It surprised you, a little bit, how you were barely affected by the run-in with Jisung, but that faded away when you took your first sip at the absurdly lavish open bar. For others, alcohol can be liquid courage— for you, it’s a depressant that brings out the sad drunk in you.

You shake your head, trying not to let the immediate horror seep into you. But how can it not, when the gorgeous man you are in love with has just become witness to your ugly tears for the second time? And from where did he just appear out of, when you thought you were going to be able to spend your time wallowing in your sorrows alone? Life is truly unfair.

“What- what are you doing here?” You sputter.

You imagine that Hyunjin looks stunned, for a moment, but his face lights up when he realizes that it is you who is the mess curled up next to him. If he seems put off by the remnants of your crying, he does not show it. “I was here as my friend’s date, but it seems as though he’s ditched me for a better one.”

He gives you a furtive smile that makes you feel like you’re in on a joke, and in spite of your pitiful state, you immediately feel the warmth spread through you. “The Love Doctor always works, doesn’t he?”

“It’s my nine-to-five, as well as my five-to-nine,” Hyunjin jokes, chuckling. “So, you’re a UCLA alum? You didn’t strike me as the sort, I didn’t think.”

You scoff playfully. “Absolutely not. Proud Case Western grad here. Where else would I get my inherent computer geek complex?”

Hyunjin’s eyes sparkle. “Then what brings you here?”

“My cousin.” You jerk your chin in the direction of Yeonjun, who’s currently trying to break up a fight between two men who seem to be arguing about something related to stocks. “He’s trying to fulfill his senior undergraduate community service requirement by volunteering at this thing. But this is barely community service— I think the UCLA Alumni Association just wanted some free labor.”

Hyunjin laughs at your shitty joke, and you nearly feel like your attitude just turns up at that sound, unfurling like petals when touched by sunshine. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Too kitsch.” You tilt your head towards the dizzying display of debauchery currently swarming your little bubble: most of the guests have separated into their own cliques by now, and the one closest to you has set up an uproarious gambling circle on their table. This is a bit much, even if for a swanky college reunion.

“Agreed.” Hyunjin stays quiet for a moment, and you watch him curiously, wondering what he’s thinking of. He relieves you a moment later. “Darling, I don’t want to intrude, but I just wanted to ask if everything’s okay?”

You hesitate to answer, because although you know he genuinely wants to check up on you, given the astronomically considerate person he is, you don’t want to burden him with your problems— especially if the problem is him. So you do what any sensible person would do and deflect. “It’s a long story. How about we check out the bar?”

You expect him to turn you down, but maybe you’re not the only one who needs a drink, because he accepts. “I feel like I’ll regret it, but alright.”

Hyunjin helps you up from where you sit, grabbing your purse for you and handing it to you as you stand, making your heart squeeze even tighter in your chest. But you both make your way over to the open bar, snagging two seats at the very end of the counter on one side.

The teariness made your intoxication a bit more discreet, so you’re openly able to ask for a beer without raising Hyunjin’s eyebrows. Hyunjin, on the other hand, orders a pink champagne on the rocks. He really is so sophisticated. After you both finish speaking with the bartender, he turns to you, placing his elbow on the counter and propping up his chin in his arm. The soft smile on his face fits perfectly as his eyes lock onto yours, and it feels… flirtatious.

You’re suddenly transported into all of those times you were alone at a bar, men approaching you with a similar demeanor, but with very much different intentions. Therein, with Hyunjin, the aura of respect and boundaries still hangs in the air, so it doesn’t linger, no matter how much you wish it would stay.

The bartender sets your choices in front of you, and you try to enjoy the drink, but the overwhelming bitterness of it just makes everything come crashing down. You sniffle, and then immediately hope that Hyunjin has not noticed that you are beginning to cry pathetically— again— into your mug of beer.

Hyunjin looks concerned, leaning forward as if to put his arm around you, but after a moment’s hesitation, he retracts his arm and instead, focuses on your face. "Y/N?"

Shit. You try to laugh it off as an extremely severe case of allergies, but even besides the fact that there's barely any pollen in the concrete jungle of Los Angeles, you suck at acting. Too bad Hollywood is only a ten-minute commute from your apartment.

"I’m… I’m okay. I'm totally okay." You try to laugh it off, but instead, it sounds like a strange, very unattractive quack. The thick tears that begin to roll down your cheeks are not even necessary for Hyunjin to call you out. He is not buying any of it.

"Darling, please. Don’t lie to me.”

"Hyunjin, I'm fine! God!"

At this point, you're full on sobbing in the middle of the room, and people are shooting you weird looks. Hyunjin should leave. Being seen with a mess like you could taint his spotless, perfect image, and outside of his office, he has absolutely no obligation to you. Fuck, you don’t even know why you’re being such a crybaby— before Hyunjin, you could actually down booze without losing it on the spot, especially surrounded by a bunch of strangers.

But as if he couldn’t tug at you anymore, he doesn’t think this time to cross the miniscule space between you both and pull you into a tight hug. You feel like utter crap, and it’s been so long since someone just held you, assuring you that everything is going to be fine. But you can’t help notice one insignificant detail: Hyunjin smells fucking amazing and expensive and elegant— perhaps Chanel or Tom Ford? And in that glorious suit too, he’s like the real-life, less embarrassing embodiment of the mafia overlords that dominated your questionable high school fanfiction phase. Fuck. This isn’t helping the situation.

Hyunjin, meanwhile, rubs soothing circles on your back, definitely unaware of your inappropriate intrusive thoughts. “Shhh, it’s going to be okay. Do you wanna get out of here?”

You blink up at him tearily, mind frazzled but remembering your engagement. “But, Yeonjun…”

And as if the devil whispers in his ears, your cousin manifests out of thin air, collapsing onto the empty stool next to you. “My dear cuz, smack some sense into me if I ever volunteer again with— wait. Bro, are you crying?”

The shame piles up on you again, heating up your skin in a way that’s too obvious. But before you can muster up a lie, Hyunjin speaks for you, taking the mug away from your hands. “I think it’s best if Y/N gets some rest, she isn’t feeling too well.”

Yeonjun just stares dumbly at Hyunjin for a second, jaw hanging open a little, as it does for anyone when they are first in the presence of Hwang Hyunjin. “I, uh. Yeah. That’s good. You’re Hwang Hyunjin, right? Her dating coach?”

Even through your intoxication, you feel like you see something flicker in Hyunjin’s eyes, but as always, it doesn’t last. “Yes, it’s wonderful to meet you, Yeonjun. Y/N has spoken a lot about you.”

“Same to you.” Yeonjun snickers, before clearing his throat and turning serious. “Listen, man, I hate to ask you this. But can you please help her home? I can text you the address? I really can’t leave this stupid shindig until it’s over, but I don’t wanna leave her alone—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of her.” Hyunjin states firmly, motioning to the bartender to bring you a large class of water. The way he’s looking out for you brings up something hot, aroused in your stomach.

Yeonjun nods, and to his credit, he really does look as apologetic as you can discern in your drunk haze. Hyunjin helps you finish your water, before buying a water bottle for you to sip from, as he slides his arm around your shoulders and helps you out of that terrible room. In most cases, when sober and thinking straight, you would be as rigid as a bar, humiliated and unsure of what to do with yourself. But you let yourself have this, just once, melting into his side and enjoying your misery more than you should.

Sometimes, Hyunjin really can be such a piece of shit. Like the time he promised Princess Diana extra cuddles before bedtime, but forgot because he had been working late at SeoulSpark on some overdue reports; he had felt like such a horrible father to his baby. Or the time he mentioned a Gucci product during an interview, inadvertently advertising for Versace’s biggest competitor; Donatella wouldn’t reply to his texts for nearly a week. But all of that seems tame in comparison to today.

You’ve had too much to drink and can’t stop crying, and here Hyunjin is, thinking about how much he wants to kiss you. In his defense, you look so adorable, with your cheeks flushed from the alcohol, eyes drooping with drowsiness and lips pouted preciously. But it’s still highly inappropriate of Hyunjin to be thinking of you in such a way, so he shoves those treacherous thoughts into the back of his mind and focuses on staring at anything but you.

After a few swipes on the Uber app, your ride pulls up in front of the hotel in which Highlight is located inside. At this point, you’ve become pliant in Hyunjin’s arms, cuddling into his side and clutching at his waist. Hyunjin can barely breathe, and is vastly thankful for the distraction of the car's arrival.

He helps you into the backseat of the car, before getting in from the other side. The drive back to your place is quiet, save for the breezy orchestra music that the driver plays on the low and the soft sounds of your sniffling. Hyunjin clenches his jaw and stares out the window, trying to focus on the green highway signs whizzing by and not the fact that you’re barely centimeters away from him, humming sadly along to the radio.

Twenty minutes pass, and suddenly, you’re both standing in front of your apartment building, an old but dreamy housing complex tucked away in one of the quieter sectors of the city. Hyunjin walks you up to your door, telling himself that he’ll leave as soon as you’re safe inside. He watches you sway on your feet a little while you take a few extra minutes to fumble with the door lock. Hyunjin wants you to go inside and slam the door in his face, bringing him back to his senses. Instead, you look over at him, a lilt to your voice.

“Wanna come inside?” You slightly slur over your words, giving him a small glance. It’s innocent enough that Hyunjin knows your motives are pure, even if a tiny part of him wishes they weren’t.

He hesitates, the logical side of his mind screaming at him to politely refuse and bid you a goodnight. But then again, he hasn’t been very logical whenever it comes to you. He now promises himself that this is just a little post-party hangout. You can be friends, can’t you? And besides, you need someone to look after you. And friends look after each other, don’t they?

Hyunjin steps inside, instantly in awe of your apartment. The open floor concept allows him to explore the entire layout with his eyes, from the soft throw blanket lying on your very comfortable-looking couch to the bellowing linen curtains hanging over your windows. The mismatched furniture and nearly overflowing book cases are incredibly charming, the artful dissonance of your decor coming together in a harmony that just makes everything feel so cozy.

In Hyunjin’s mind, your apartment is so quintessentially you, a feeling of home that his own place never quite felt like. Yes, he loves Oasis more than anything, but there’s this slightly pretentious air to it, this urge to keep it constantly pristine. It feeds into Hyunjin’s obsession over perfection, instead of being the one place where he can truly be himself. Here, however, Hyunjin feels comfortable, secure in his own skin, even when in reality, he probably looks ridiculously out of place in his over-the-top outfit.

“Hm,” you mumble, prompting Hyunjin to whirl around and rush forward to steady you when you lean a little too forward. “Do you wanna drink?”

Hyunjin frowns at you while you just giggle nonsensically. You’re nowhere near sober, but at the very least, at least you’re not distressed anymore. Hyunjin hates to see you upset; your face was made for smiling.

“Absolutely not. We have done enough drinking for today.” Hyunjin chides you sternly. “You can’t go to bed on an empty stomach, though.”

You prop yourself on one of the chairs at your dining table, giving him an anticipating look that Hyunjin takes as permission to rummage through your cupboards. After looking through the fridge as well, Hyunjin settles on cooking you his comfort grilled cheese recipe. He pours you a glass of water and gives you a little pat on your head when you obediently finish the entire thing and accept another.

You quietly watch Hyunjin while he putters around the kitchen; the sheer domesticity of it all makes him yearn for this to be a regular occurrence. He’d cook for you everyday, filling you to the brim with all of the affection you deserve. But that’s not going to happen, so he keeps his head down and concentrates. Hyunjin flips the sourdough bread on the griddle until it’s golden brown, spreading liberal amounts of butter on each side. And the pièce de résistance, he adds one-third white cheddar, one-third yellow cheddar, and one-third American cheese, his favorite combination of cheeses for a rainy day.

“This is so yummy,” you declare after your first bite, eyes full of delight. “Here, have some. You’re such a good cook, Hyunnie.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know whether to be more shocked at the fact that you’re holding out your own sandwich for Hyunjin to try, or how you just called him such an endearing nickname. “I– it’s okay, darling. I’m not hungry.”

But you don’t accept it, because it looks like you’re just as stubborn even when inebriated. “You need to taste, or else I’ll be sad.”

You flash him a heartbroken set of puppy dog eyes that makes him melt and give in. He reaches across the rickety little table and tries to take the sandwich in his own hands, but you pull away slightly and hold it out to him expectantly. Oh.

Hyunjin gingerly leans forward and lets you feed him a bite of the grilled cheese. He chews quickly, trying not to blush under the intensity of your gaze. Once he swallows, he watches you finish off the rest of the sandwich, satisfied with his compliance. When you’re done, you look up at him proudly, and he just can’t help but be endeared by you.

Hyunjin clears the table and washes the dishes, wiping his hands on the fluffy towel hanging from the oven handle. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches out to brush a few stray crumbs off of the corner of your mouth, trying not to revel in the sensation of how soft your lips are under his thumb.

“Thank you,” you say, giving him a guileless smile while you bite down on an orange-colored candy from the small bowl on the counter. “Let’s do something fun, that party was so boring.”

Hyunjin lets you wrap your fingers around his wrist, pulling him to the living room and onto the couch. He huffs out a laugh as you clumsily fall onto the sofa, moving to get comfortable. “What are you thinking?”

You tap your chin dramatically, making a show of trying to decide what to do. “How about… karaoke?”

Hyunjin grins and takes the TV remote that you hand him, hopping onto YouTube and flipping through the list of lyrical videos. “Any preference for a song?”

You shake your head vigorously. “Surprise me.”

He settles on “Gone Away,” a ballad by one of his favorite underground rock bands. The slow notes of a love song float out through the speaker, the lovely voice of the lead singer, J.One, filling his ears. He nervously glances over at you, but you give him an encouraging nod, and Hyunjin lets himself go.

“Inside collapsed time, even my hopes for us to be together, no longer matter,” Hyunjin sings along to the lyrics, the song resonating within him more than he wishes it did. “My love, tangled up while looking for you, is gone, gone away, gone away.”

“I don’t think I can stop you from leaving anymore,” you join in softly, and Hyunjin looks over at you in surprise, but you’re staring straight ahead at the TV. He tamps down his nerves and gets through the rest of the song with you, both of you somehow harmonizing together in tune. At some point in the middle, the tears start pouring down his cheeks slowly, in the way he can never control. He just hopes that you don’t notice every time he reaches up to swipe at them, before inevitably fall.

The song doesn’t finish quick enough, and an advertisement begins to run on autoplay, but Hyunjin can’t bring himself to look at you again, terrified of the way his heart beats so deafeningly in his chest.

“Hyunjin.”

Serious, without a single hint of playfulness. Hyunjin clears his throat and lifts his head to see your indecipherable expression. He notices the traces of haziness in your eyes, but there’s undeniable determination written across your face. “Yes?”

“Don’t cry,” You nearly sob out, breath catching in your throat. “It doesn’t suit such a beautiful person to be filled with so much grief.”

Hyunjin covers up his astonishment at your words with denial, trying to push them off as an emotional reaction to the song. But you’ve just called him beautiful, and that cannot be covered up. “I’m sorry, that was a bit much.”

You swallow harshly, the dry sound of it audible. Maybe Hyunjin should excuse himself to bring you some water and escape this conversation. But— “You can never be too much. I want you, all the time. I think of you, all the time.”

This time, Hyunjin is effectively rendered gone. Frozen to the couch, time stopped and his train of rational thought put on hold. He reruns the sentence in his brain, trying to piece them together. You want him. You think of him? You want him? His confused, frantic contemplation is interrupted when you crawl over the couch and lift your palm to cup his jaw, so close that he can nearly feel the soft puff of your breathing against his face. Fuck, you’re still drunk.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” you murmur. Hyunjin is sure he has died and gone to some otherworldly dimension— maybe heaven, or hell, depending on how the higher powers have judged his situation to be— when he feels your lips slot against his, reeling him in like a needle through thread. So what else can he do, but accept what you give him and circle his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer so you’re on his lap.

You taste like the mango candy you popped earlier, sweet with a hint of tanginess, and it’s driving Hyunjin absolute nuts. Your eyes flutter shut and so do Hyunjin’s, both of you melting into each other, diving into the dangerous waters that Hyunjin swore that he wouldn’t tread. But he can’t stop, he just can’t, not when you lick into his mouth with a passion to rival the one he’s felt for you since day one.

“Hyunjin…” You whisper, a long, obscenely drawn-out syllable that’s reminiscent of the noises that Hyunjin imagined eliciting from you. That one sound snaps him out of it. You’re drunk, you’re drunk, and this means nothing. This means nothing to you, and he’s just been here, the unfortunate sap to receive your sweet, empty words just because he’s been here for you once. He doesn’t deserve any of it. You’re not going to remember any of it. You are so fucking drunk.

Before he knows it, he’s shoving you off, and with the way you heavily land on the cushion next to him, he wasn’t gentle at all, in his panic. You just stare at him with a half-dazed, half-dismayed look on your face that makes him cringe away.

“I am so sorry,” Hyunjin croaks, grabbing his phone and scrambling to stand up. He will pull himself together, eventually, in time to see you for the next appointment. And then he will remind himself that he is a mere service to you, and nothing more. As it should be, and as it always was.

Hyunjin doesn’t even wait for your response before he’s running out the door and into the night.

You come to at around noon, groggily blinking a few times before the memories come flooding back in. You drinking yourself stupid at the bar. Hyunjin leading the way back home. Karaoke while relaxed on your shitty couch from Craig’s List. Kissing like in a movie before the atomic bomb dropped. You kissed Hyunjin. Your drunk, sentimental ass was lucid enough to remember your feelings, but not sober enough to remember to conceal them. You kissed Hwang motherfucking Hyunjin, and you have colossally fucked up.

You scream about it for a good half hour, ripping at your hair and keeling over on the couch, dry heaving in a failed attempt to let out your guilt. It sticks. You’re mortified. Scared. Disgusted. How, how could you do that to him? Taking advantage of him when he was in your own home? You didn’t even get proper consent from him! You are such a damn asshole, and now, Hyunjin is probably never going to want to see you again.

All you want to do is jump under your covers and cry yourself to a sleep that you’ll never have to wake up from. But you love Hyunjin too much to do that to him. You owe him an apology and the entire world, which you have no qualms about bringing to him if he asked you.

And that’s why you’re at SeoulSpark, ignoring the fear pulsing in your body as you push open the door, closing your eyes as the cool gust of the air conditioning washes over your skin. But the drop in temperature does nothing to tamp down the nerves boiling under your skin.

All of the composure that you have carefully curated in the past few minutes shrivels up— charred to a crisp and punted out of Hyunjin’s ridiculously extravagant floor-to-ceiling windows— when you lay eyes on him. Because that’s the effect he’s always had on you, and you feel like an idiot for not already anticipating that familiar cyclone of emotions that hits you whenever he’s in vicinity.

There he stands, gazing out at the view leisurely spread out at his feet, lax hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers like he has no worries at all. In the perfect world, you could have just an ounce of his self-command, of how assuredly he carries himself. You envy him almost as much as you want him. Almost.

When he turns away from the glass at the sound of entrance, the sharp angle of his side profile is shadowed by the light pouring in from behind him, portraying him as some magnificent sort of Greek god. And he might as well be, with the way he has directed both torrents of lightning and spelled arrows through your heart.

You just stand there awkwardly as he steps out of the sun and completely into your vision; you don’t trust that there will ever be a day when you are not so devastatingly floored by his beauty. The buttons of his shirt are haphazardly hooked in a way that seems not so careless, but more effortless, and you have to fight everything in yourself to not stare at the smooth expanse of skin revealed at the top.

The moment Hyunjin recognizes the intruder of his office as you, his lips erupt into a smile that seems too genuine given the stunt you pulled just a few hours prior. If he carries any disgust towards you as a result of last night’s events, he doesn’t show it. Warmth pools in his eyes like honey, and you find yourself swimming in it, insatiable and begging for more of that lovely taste. You wish you knew how it would feel to have him look at you so sweetly while he harshly fucks into you, a complete juxtaposition to the adoration painting his expression.

“Hey,” you wave your hand lamely, and then immediately mentally punch yourself in the face; you really missed your calling as the awkward main character of a Disney original show.

“Good morning, darling. I wasn’t expecting you today.” Hyunjin gestures towards the sofa and you hastily sit down on it, whereas Hyunjin elegantly settles himself across from you.

“I know.” You avert your gaze, feeling the blush creeping up your neck and onto your face. “Last night was, uh, something.”

That’s one fucking way to put it.

Hyunjin lets out a surprised little chuckle, a sound so cute that you have to ponder ways to inconspicuously pinch your arm. “Well, I was talking about how you didn’t have an appointment. But I’m glad that you’re using the walk-in hours.”

“Yeah… so I thought we should maybe talk about what happened,” you stutter out, shifting under Hyunjin’s steady gaze. “I don’t even know where to begin though.”

Hyunjin hums encouragingly. “It’s okay. What do you want to tell me?”

You take a deep breath, thinking back to the previous night. “I’m sorry. I crossed so many lines yesterday and I was too drunk out of my mind to even tell. I must have made you feel so uncomfortable, and that’s the last thing I would ever want to do.”

And you mean every word. You would rather hurtle yourself into the Grand Canyon than hurt Hyunjin, Hyunjin who has been so good to you even when you never deserved it, Hyunjin who you’re hopelessly and utterly in love with. Hyunjin, who you can never have.

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything during that miniscule gap in which you pause, so you take it as a sign to keep going. You’d rather get it off your chest all in one go anyway, as you fear you may not be able to finish if you stop. “I get it if this changes things. If you don’t want to see me anymore.”

You shut your eyes as soon as you finish speaking, too apprehensive to see his reaction. This is it. This is the part where he agrees and so very politely asks you to leave his office and never come back again. It’ll probably take Wonyoung all of five seconds to boot you out of Hyunjin’s Google calendar, and then Hyunjin will go back to charming the next poor sucker to walk into his office. Gosh, you want to continue being that poor sucker, as pathetic as it is.

“Did you mean any of it?”

Against every fiber of your being telling you not to, to stay in blissful ignorance, you pry your eyes open to see Hyunjin waiting with his arms folded. Something about the intensity of his gaze, coupled with the unexpected potency in his usually soft voice, makes you shift uneasily.

“I know it was inappropriate. I’m sorry—”

Hyunjin cuts you off, shaking his head in exasperation. “I need you to tell me the truth. Did you mean what you said to me last night?”

You tilt your head down so that you get an eyeful of the plush rug spread under the sofa. Of course you meant everything. You might have been drunk, but the intoxication only brought out the deepest, most hidden parts of yourself; it gave you the courage to manifest what you want the most. But to admit anything to Hyunjin— again— when he clearly did not want any part in it would hurt even more, because this time, you didn’t have alcohol in you to numb the pain of rejection.

“Why did you leave?”

For a moment, you think that Hyunjin will ignore your question and insist on you giving him a hard answer. Instead, he tentatively reaches his hand out and hooks his thumb and index finger under your chin, carefully angling your head up to meet your eyes. That familiar gentleness once again radiates from him, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from melting into it. In spite of how utterly miserable you feel right now, the telltale flutter of your heart betrays you. God, you want to be his.

“I left because I didn’t know how much of it was real,” Hyunjin rasps. His words are hushed, but you feel the weight of them, soaked and dripping with both tenderness and hesitation. “I didn’t want you holding my heart when you couldn’t fully feel it in your hands.”

You exhale slowly, trying to ignore the false hope rising like bile in your throat. The way his eyes brighten whenever he sees you. The stolen glances you thought you were imagining all this time. Darling. It can’t be. “Hyunjin… what are you saying?”

“Do you have feelings for me? Because I do.” Hyunjin purses his lips and slides his palm up to caress your cheek. “I have feelings for you, and I’m so tired of pretending that I don’t.”

“You what?” You search his eyes wildly for any sign of a joke, because you’re unwilling to believe that this is really, truly happening. All of your reasoning feels tightened by this nostalgic lavender haze, a dizzying sense of deja vu pulled from your thoughts. The ones in which you get to call Hyunjin yours. They cannot be real, not in this universe.

He nods bashfully, a pretty new color in his cheeks— a shade that both astounds and confounds you. The cherry lips that you’ve endlessly fantasized about shine red and swollen with how he has so anxiously bitten into them. Hyunjin’s eyes shine in the hazy glow of his sunset lamp, full of feeling and twinkling brighter than any high rise. You’ve never seen him like this, vulnerable and laid bare in front of you. You’ve always been the one to fall apart in front of him, and yet, here he is, surprising you once again. And that’s something that will never change, how he remains the warlock of your wildest dreams and unraveling sanity.

“I haven’t been the same since we met.” Hyunjin murmurs, softly stroking the side of your face. “And- and after last night, I think I actually might be going crazy. Because maybe it’s not all in my head. Maybe you want me as much as I do. Do you?”

You shake your head, heart fluctuating with every emotion that has ever been registered in your mind. Exhilaration. Doubt. Fear. Devotion. You are so overwhelmingly in love with the man in front of you that it hurts, even when he stands in front of you with his heart in his hands. It hurts, because you know that no matter what, there’s no going back now. You know you can’t leave him alone now; you are completely and utterly his.

“Hyunjin—”

“Y/N.” Hyunjin pleads, and all you can feel is disappointment at the address. Not darling. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. Just please—”

“Hyunjin.” You cut him off harshly, and he freezes, his arms dropping back to his side. You immediately feel the magnitude of losing his touch on your skin, and it does nothing to tamp down the mix of frustration and arousal inside of you. “Hwang Hyunjin. You drive me absolutely insane.”

There’s a moment of charged silence, before his lips are on yours. When you were younger, you’d spend hours hunched over romance novels and rereading the parts when the leads finally kissed, their repressed emotions finally amalgamating in one stunning, golden moment. But nothing about kissing Hyunjin feels golden; it never did.

No, it’s an ardent, burning red, a fire blooming in the hands that you use to yank him closer to you, a distance that will always feel unending whenever it’s him. It’s sin, pouring over hot coals and shimmering ore, enchanting yet raw. It’s so perfectly imperfect, wet and frantic, shameless and desperate. It’s rose vines creeping up crumbling brick and the roll of thunder in the middle of the night. It’s you and him and no inhibitions whatsoever, until…

“Wait, wait, wait.” To your disappointment, Hyunjin pulls back. Even though he was the one who kissed you, you don’t fail to recognize the uncertainty written on his reddened lips.

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to block out the nagging thoughts in which Hyunjin has already regretted you. Moving out of his hold, you give him space by backing away. “Is everything okay?”

“I wanted to make sure that you are one-hundred percent okay with this. Like, I drive you insane in a good way, right? Not a bad way? Just checking. Consent is key and all,” Hyunjin breathlessly, letting out a nervous giggle. It’s a display that is shockingly similar to how you act whenever you’re agitated, and you never expected it to be put on by Hyunjin, of all people. It’s… cute.

You give him a small smile, letting your handbag carelessly slip off your shoulder and onto the rug. You take a tiny step towards him, wrapping your arms around Hyunjin’s slender waist and reveling in how Hyunjin’s breathing quickens, pulse jumping with your touch. Drawing him close to you, just until your lips are barely touching, you look up at him through your eyelashes, focusing on that gorgeous beauty mark under his eye.

“Hyunjin, is the door locked?”

He just stares at you for a good moment, and you let him, enjoying the way his lips part at your husky tone. “No. I didn’t lock it.”

“Good.” You lift your hand and trace the outline of Hyunjin’s bottom lip with your finger, observing the way he shivers at your touch. “Pay attention, because I’m about to prove to you just how much I like you.”

A blush speckled across his features is all that is needed to induce that familiar urge in you, the one that makes you unreasonably aroused. You want to make him yours, to take care of him and demonstrate to him specifically how insane you are for him. You want to make his wildest dreams come alive, just like he has done for you.

Hyunjin’s eyes flutter shut, a movement so delicate that it almost makes you cry. “Please… just touch me.”

Talking will come, eventually. Both of you will sit down tomorrow morning and establish what exactly this is, what you have done by that point— what you plan to do to Hyunjin now. You’ll find out what this is for Hyunjin— whether this is lust, a brazen act committed in the heat of the moment, or the complete opposite, what you’re too afraid to even think of. Your heart wishes for the latter to be true, for Hyunjin to want you not only as much as you want him, but in the same way as well. Maybe you can’t put it in words, what you feel for him, but you can show him your sincerity in other ways. It’s all you can imagine doing, after Hyunjin has currently rendered you with no other form of thought. Right now, it’s just you and him and a novel of proofs to be written on each other.

And so you cup his cheek and draw his body closer to yours; this time, you move slowly, every action deliberate, exploring Hyunjin and his depths. Your lips touch his softly, a ghost of longing on skin. In turn, Hyunjin’s hands clutch at yours, silently asking you for more, and you indulge your prince, because there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him.

Hwang Hyunjin tastes like a sunrise, if dawn’s dainty fingertips blessing the sky with a brilliant, fiery spectrum of light could be encapsulated in that sense. Coffee ice cream, spearmint, unadulterated eroticism. Finally, you’ve found the end of your questions. You shut your eyes as Hyunjin slips his hands into your hair, pulling it out of its tight hold and deftly sliding the tiny pink elastic around his wrist. You mirror his actions, carding your fingers through his soft, silky strands and holding onto him as he deepens the kiss. Instinctively, almost, you part your lips, allowing for him to slip his tongue inside and have his own answers.

Hyunjin pulls back from you to look at you directly when he starts to run his trembling hands down over the curve of your hips, the way he regards you full of attention and lust. You are sure that the confidence that you might have projected earlier has diffused into something more unfocused, with the way you already feel so high off of Hyunjin. Taking control has always been something that has come to you easily, until Park Jisung subjugated that part of you. But you don’t mind it right now, Hyunjin taking all of you and turning you into a mess, because this is the very comfort that you’ve been craving for so long.

“Are you sure?” Hyunjin whispers, even though there’s no secret to be kept. He leans down so that his forehead touches your own, in a way that feels too intimate, but at the same time, it makes you want it and more. It’s a genuine question ringing with the slightest hint of hesitation, and yet, you can’t believe he has to ask you; you love him, even though you may not be able to say it, yet.

“This. This is what you do to me.” You take Hyunjin’s hand into yours and lead it to the place between your legs that’s been begging for his touch since you first laid eyes on him, second to only your heart. Hyunjin’s eyes widen in surprise when you guide his hand under your skirt, pupils dilating in want when he realizes how drenched you are just for him. But his reaction is nothing compared to you, to how you suck in a sharp breath and try not to fall apart with just one touch.

That one sound is enough for his gaze to darken, before he’s gripping your hips like a vice and pushing you against his desk. You let out a small gasp at the roughness of the movement, and even more so at how Hyunjin is finally taking what has always belonged to him, and him only. In response, he captures your bottom lip with his teeth, nipping at you slightly, not enough to cause pain but just enough to have your back arching at the sting of it.

“Did that hurt?” Hyunjin asks you, a smirk painting his features as he drags his lips across your cupid bow ever-so-softly.

You try to hide your blush by rolling your eyes defiantly, fisting the collar of his shirt in your hands. “No, it didn’t.”

Hyunjin laughs as he places one last kiss on the corner of your mouth, before he’s moving to your neck, attentively peppering kisses along it just to garner more proof of the utter pleasure that has pervaded your senses— and he has barely even touched you yet.

Your hands slide down to the bottom of his shirt and to tug at it, the desperation of the movement mirroring the pulse of your heart. Hyunjin lets you unhook the top few buttons before hastily tearing off the rest of it, the tiny silver knobs scattering across the floor. But you can’t think about the mess now, not when Hyunjin takes your hands in his and runs them down smooth, toned places of his torso.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he mutters under his breath, easily untying your blouse with just his right hand, something that shouldn’t be as attractive to you as it is. He pushes it off of your body, the material now a nuisance to the way he begins to explore every inch of skin his lips can find purchase on.

You decide to help him out, unzipping your skirt to step out of it, kicking it away along with your heels to some forgotten corner of the office. Seeing no point in prolonging your mutual misery, you also reach behind your back and unhook your bra to free your breasts to him, shrugging it off with a smile as you meet Hyunjin’s eyes.

“Do you want to touch me?” You give him a teasing grin, loving the way he audibly gulps when taking in how you’re nearly bare, all for him.

“I want to fucking ravish you.”

You tense with his words and how his gaze hardens with the challenge, trying to maintain your cocky front. “Let’s see how you do, Dr. Hwang.”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply immediately, the corner of his lips just barely tipping up. His fingers find the band of your panties, hooking under to pull you forward to him as he guides you to sit on the desk. “I can literally smell how wet you are for me, you know.”

And you nearly come to his words, but he doesn’t give you the chance, hands coyly smoothing up your stomach before gripping your panties on either side and ripping them off your body. Before the lace has even touched the floor, his mouth is on your cunt, blazing hot and wet.

You gasp, sucking in a shattering breath as his lips move against your pussy as if spelling out letters in the filthiest language known to man. He envelops your clit with his lips in a slight kiss before you feel his tongue delve out, adventuring between your folds and getting his first, full taste of you. Hyunjin moans as he dips into you, blessing your ears with the prettiest sound to grace them, and it seems as if eating you out pleases him just as much as it does for you, if not more.

Hyunjin pulls away momentarily to look at your center, hands wrapping around your thighs and encouraging them even farther apart. Trailing kisses along your shin, he lifts your right leg to place it comfortably on the desk, caging himself between your legs. The sight makes you clench and grasp onto his hair, bringing him right back into you.

“Fuck,” he breathes out as he pressed his mouth against you once more, relentlessly starving and savouring the taste of you at the same time. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

You moan, taking fistfuls of his soft, soft hair as he fulfills his sinful promises. You can’t think of any good comeback like you would prefer to do, but this position, while compromising, isn’t anything but ideal at this moment. The worlds have coiled in your throat, coming out as broken sobs, and you have effectively gone crazy for Hyunjin.

“So pretty,” he compliments, eyes drinking in your core before softening as they glance up at you. He slides a lone finger inside of you, and you immediately tighten around it, making him chuckle. “You like that? Like my mouth on your cunt? Like how I’m fucking you like this, so slow yet not enough?”

You just whimper in answer, but Hyunjin remains unbothered by your lack of coherent response. “You taste fucking heavenly, by the way.”

And then he pulls his hand away harshly, leaving a stinging slap directly on your aching pussy, immediately rubbing your clit after to lessen the harshness of it.

“Oh my God—”

He hooks two of fingers inside of you this time, thrusting in and walking the tips of them along your g-spot, making your head go hazy with pleasure. Your breathing hitches as a pressure starts to build in your lower stomach, your walls shamelessly sucking at Hyunjin’s fingers.

“Mm, you’re going to drench me, aren’t you? You talk up a big storm, but you’re dripping down my hand already.”

Hyunjin’s talk is almost as dangerous as his touch, and he knows it, with how he grins knowingly at you while he so sweetly puts you in your place. He attaches his mouth to your clit, sucks deftly, and moves his entire arm against that one beautiful place, making your legs give out beneath you.

“Hyunjin, please,” you sob, amazed with how you were even able to form that sorry excuse for a sentence. “I need—”

“Need what?” Hyunjin mocks you, knowing exactly what you want, but he takes his time, playing with you and drawing out this sublime form of torture on your body. “Can’t wait for me to fill you up, yes? So greedy.”

Fuck, you love the way he talks. Measured and polite when fully clothed, but uninhibited and dirty behind closed doors. Your spine straightens as he starts to pump you so hard that you begin to see stars, or maybe just the lights from the buildings outside. You can’t be sure. You begin to arch your back, trying to lessen the intensity of his movements, but he wraps his arm around your hips to hold you down.

He flicks your clit mercilessly, his tongue winding you close to your climax. You mewl his name softly, rolling your hips up towards his face and on his fingers, clenching impossibly tight around him, but he only responds by fucking you harder. Faster.

You can feel your orgasm approaching in addition to his heightened attention in your blissful facial expressions, watching the way your brows turn up in the middle.

“Close, aren’t you?” He murmurs against your clit, and you concentrate on his voice, the sole thing you can comprehend past the obliterating pleasure you’re suspended in. You swear he smiles, before he pulls away from you.

You cry out pathetically at the loss of contact, feeling that tsunami of ecstasy fail to crest and eventually fade back into the shallows, leaving just an unbearable ripple of disturbance behind. You can feel the tears form in your eyes at your interrupted orgasm that was so cruelly taken from you, and you narrow your gaze at Hyunjin.

“And you’re such a brat, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” Hyunjin responds cheekily, tracing his middle finger slightly against your folds, and you have to grind your teeth to keep from shuddering. “I want you to come on my cock instead.”

You’ve had enough of his games. This is something that you started, and you completely intend to finish it, even if it means not playing by Hyunjin’s twisted rules and making your own board. You dig your nails into Hyunjin’s shoulders, feeling him wince under your touch, and push him back roughly. He collapses onto the couch, looking up at you in wide-eyed surprise.

“Did you have fun, Hyunjin? I hope you did.” It’s your turn to smirk down at him, all of the explicit thoughts of what you would love to do to him running through your head. “Because we’re going to be doing things my way now.”

Before he can even muster up a retort, you are already straddling him, shifting back to unzip his trousers and shove them down his legs, while he just obediently lifts up his hips to help. All in one go, you get both his pants and boxers off, freeing his length. And he really is so pretty— all of him, down to his cock that’s perfectly hardened for you to use.

Hyunjin shivers as you experimentally palm his cock, testing how sensitive he is, and you’re pleased with what you discover. “What are you going to do to me?”

“What do you want me to do to you?” You question him right back, pretending to actually listen to him. Hyunjin takes the bait, relief and desire evident in his features.

“I want you to fuck me with that sweet little pussy,” he responds, the urgency filling his throat making you smile.

“I see.”

You shrug nonchalantly, gripping him and enjoying the way he gets even harder in your hands. Slowly, you begin to pump him, spitting into your palm and spreading it down his length for better friction. It works, with the way he curses under his breath and looks at you pleadingly.

“Darling, stop… stop doing that,” he pleads, eyes involuntarily rolling back as you lean forward, pressing your tits together and sliding his dick between them teasingly.

You cock your head to the side and let your hair fall slightly over your eyes, smiling innocently at him. “Stop doing what, baby?”

“Stop fucking teasing me!” He gasps out, watching you lift yourself just barely onto his cock, holding him at the base and rubbing his tip between your slick folds. Both of you let out soft sighs at the sensation of him nudging your entrance, but you still don’t relent.

“I don’t know… I kinda like the position we’re in. Think I could get myself off just watching you like this,” you say, lightly circling your hips as you grind your clit on his cock. “Be patient.”

“I’ve been patient for months,” he whines— in any other situation, you’d laugh at how adorable he is if you weren’t so damn turned on right now. He places his arms around your waist, squeezing lightly. “I have to have you.”

You take Hyunjin’s hands and bring them up to rest over your breasts, keeping eye contact with him. As if a trying to placate you by seduction, he traces his fingers over your nipples, sending a jolt through your body; he need not know that you have been wrapped around his finger ever since he pushed you against that desk, and that you’re this close to surrendering to his pleas. You need him.

“Say ‘please’,” you giggle, your cocky façade cracking. After all, you’re endlessly weak for him.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, but obliges you anyway. “Please, fuck me.”

You want to have one last word with his attitude, but then his palm cracks hard against your thigh, and your legs give up. Your hips sink fully down onto his lap, and you both cry out at the feeling of being sated in the best possible way. Hyunjin is so deep inside you that you feel like you can barely breathe; yet, your chest rises and falls rapidly, as Hyunjin anchors his hands on your ass, assisting you in riding him.

Hyunjin tilts his head back, the veins along the graceful arch of his neck prominent as your walls pulse around him. Meanwhile, you’re practically shaking at how full he makes you feel, pressed up so deliciously inside of you. You’ll lose your mind if it means you can’t have him like this in every moment for the rest of your life, but it’s an unfortunate truth you’ll have to confront later. For now, you know he’s going to make an absolute mess of you.

“There we go, sweetheart. Use me, take all of what you want from me.” Hyunjin just whispers, guiding the roll of your hips while staring up at you in a way you can’t believe is reserved just for you. Enamored, raptured, and completely captivated. It’s so similar to the way you know you always look at him, that you nearly want to cry at the sight.

You’re breathless, gazing down at the man you love through hazy eyes. Hyunjin always looks beautiful no matter what, but right now, he’s simply breathtaking, with how his hair is so artfully mussed, and how his cheeks are tinged with the blush of pleasure. He’s especially exquisite, knowing that he’s like this just for you.

“F-feel so good, Hyunjin,” you manage, both of you fucking each other at this point— you bouncing on top of him while he fucks into from below with equal energy.

Hyunjin smirks, control coming back to him as you give it up. He licks the pad of his thumb and reaches between you both to rub slow, firm circles on your clit. “Fuck, are you going to come already?”

In spite of yourself, you shoot him a look that isn’t nearly as sharp as you intended it to be. “You already got me halfway there.”

“Definitely more than halfway— eighty-percent’s more accurate,” Hyunjin responds with haphazardly feigned indignance, before shaking his head and kissing you. He bows his head down to encase your nipple with his lips, gently sucking at the bud while his hand trails over across your chest to grasp and squeeze at your other breast, eliciting a strangled moan from you. “It’s that nice, right? I know, baby. Let go for me.”

And you do. Shattering, fierce, red-hot. You can’t handle the way he’s looking at you, touching you, talking to you. Your toes are numb from how harshly they curl, and your fingers sting from how you dragged them down Hyunjin’s back, hopefully leaving marks for him to smile at later.

“Hyun—” You can’t finish even calling out his name, the attempt fading into something nonsensical. Your eyes water from the intensity of your climax, before nestling into his neck.

But he pulls away to look you in the eye when you come, whimpering hopelessly. “That’s it, let go for me, darling.”

Your vision blurs as your orgasm finally crashes into you, overwhelming and so earth-shatteringly beautiful. Hyunjin’s voice soothes you as he guides you through your high, whispering hushed praises against your skin and doing dangerous things to your heart. A wave of unmatchable euphoria washes over you, but it never passes, like his body is an expert in prolonging the pleasure so intricately. You cannot believe that Hyunjin is real, with the way each time he thrusts into you tips you closer and closer into a never-ending free fall into absolute ecstasy.

With a soft, drawn out sigh, you finally come, and Hyunjin swears under his breath as you clench around him, your pussy gripping his cock so hard that it almost draws the climax from his body. You find a single ounce of strength in the aftermath, wrapping your arm around Hyunjin’s neck and turning his chin to make him look at you.

“I need you to come for me, Hyunjin,” you say, lips quivering against his.

He groans into your mouth, kissing you deeply. “Where, baby? Tell me where.”

“Inside of me.”

Hyunjin throws his head back, moaning desperately before capturing your mouth in a messy kiss. When he breaks away, a string of saliva connects your lips, and it feels so treacherously erotic. Hyunjin comes while calling your name over and over again, pressing your ass down on his lap as his thrusts become shallower, and more erratic. He rolls his hips a final time, pumping his come as deep as he can into you. And then he slumps against you, panting heavily as he gently lays you back down on the couch to fit you comfortably under the crook of his arm.

You hold each other just like that for a long time, hands clasped together while simply existing in the universe that feels like it is all your own. Hyunjin sighs, kissing you deeply in a way that makes your heart flip. He then pulls back to look down and inspect you, both concern and care written deep in his expression.

“Are you okay, darling? Was that too much?”

You give him a fucked-out grin, cupping his beautiful face with your palms and reveling in how warm his skin is. “No. That was perfect. You are perfect.”

“I… I’m glad.” Hyunjin blushes and looks away like he’s suddenly tongue-tied, as if he wasn’t moaning the dirtiest things into your mouth just minutes earlier. “I don’t even have the words to describe how I feel about you. You’re… everything, and I won’t ever be able to convey that to you completely.”

Something tells you that he isn’t lying, that he means every word, that this isn’t just some kind of lust-filled one-night stand that’ll merit those awkward, unwanted conversations in the future. Maybe it’s the earnesty in his voice, the pure devotion in his eyes, or maybe, you’ll allow this for yourself, just once. You’ll let yourself be happy, let yourself fall and be caught in his arms.

“I feel the same way,” you say, feeling the tears of something bittersweet form. “You’re gorgeous, Hyunjin. You know that? I just need you to know that.”

Hyunjin wipes the fresh dampness on your cheeks away with his lips, placing a kiss on your forehead when he’s finished. “We have so much time for you to tell me. We’ll talk tomorrow, baby, I promise. Just rest, for now.”

You sniffle, swiping the backs of your hands over your eyes. “I just wish I was completely sober for our first kiss. I remember it perfectly, but it just had to happen when I was a drunk mess.”

He shakes his head, blinking at you like you make no sense to him. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

“Hyunjin,” you start, heart aching and wistful for his thoughts. It seems like you would want to know everything going on in his mind, but perhaps, the challenge of not knowing and being vulnerable to the mystery, that’s what makes it truly so special.

“I wouldn’t change our first kiss for anything. You were so cute, I should have taken a picture.” Hyunjin smiles down at you fondly, tapping the tip of your nose with his finger. “But if you really want, we can say our first kiss was today.”

You give him a doubtful but adoring look. “That wouldn’t be real.”

Hyunjin shrugs carelessly, nothing but adoration in his tone. “No one has to know except for us. Our lives. Our rules. Our secret. Don’t you trust me?”

Our. You can’t help but feel giddy at that word, the very one that joins you two in the harmony that you’ve yearned for so long.

“Always.”

Long after the sun has dipped far below the horizon, after every other SeoulSpark employee has gone home for the day, you and Hyunjin lie together on his sofa in a tangle of sated exhaustion. The many hours of finally acting on long pent-up desires have rightfully ended with you drawn close against his chest as you both silently gaze out at the twinkling cityscape.

For the years that he has been settled in this office, Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel a strange twinge of sadness whenever he looked out at the stretch of towering skyscrapers. After all, he spent all of his time helping others find love, but there he was, left with a great view that he would never be able to share. He told himself that he didn’t mind it, not when his dreams lay solely in working. He would be happy to be the one to bring love to others, if it was never meant to be his. And he repeated it to himself everyday like it was just another mundane step in his cherished daily routine, until he truly started to believe it.

But how could any of that be true, when he can feel your heartbeat against his own? When the scent of your gardenia shampoo has so gracefully invaded all of his senses? When the moon so delicately traces every single one of your curves, bathing your smooth skin in a silver glow? How could he ever be meant to be alone, when the void in both his heart and arms have finally been filled?

It’s too soon to tell, and it scares the hell out of him to even think about it. But when you look up at him with those starry, radiant eyes, it all seems so worth it, so justified. You are simply the aurora to his night sky— you light him up beyond his own flimsy understanding. Therein lay the words that haven’t strayed from the tip of his tongue ever since he laid his eyes on you. The words he so fervently spelled earlier into your core, joining them with your essence. The words he’ll bite back for as long as he can because he doesn’t want you to leave.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»

AUTHOR'S NOTE (& IMPORTANT WRITING UPDATE) Announcement: Jisungsdaydreamer™ has risen from the dead after, like, four months. I apologize, once again, for the terrible wait time. This was my longest gap in posting yet, because it took a while for me to make the adjustment to college. I'm trying to get back to regularly writing, but even when I don't respond/post on here for a while, I just want you to know that I'm still here, and I see you, and I appreciate you! Anyway, I hope you liked the turning point this chapter was (i.e. THEY FINALLY CONFESSED!!!). Cue the fireworks and doves and wedding music!! Also, I just want to mention Yeonjun being a UCLA student- he is sooo Los Angeles coded, and I could totally see him being one of the most popular students at a school like UCLA. And did anyone get my Jane the Virgin reference (hint: it has to do with the grilled cheese recipe)? I used to be obsessed with that show and I have re-watched to the point that I remember almost all of the dialogue... Another thing- for Hyunjin's outfit at the reunion party, I totally was going for what Jungkook was wearing in the 3D music video. I would actually die if Hyunjin dressed up like that IRL. If you know, you know! You can expect the next chapter to come in mid-to-late December, right after my finals (pray for me) finish. Right now, I anticipate finishing Anti-Romantic by the New Year, so I can move onto finishing my other WIPs. Ideally, I'd like to also make a dent on Love Playlist before 2023 is up, but I'm getting ahead of myself! Here's to Dr. Hwang and designer obsessions and being on that sigma grindset. For the next two weeks, I'll be crying over my textbooks in the library while blasting Rock-Star in my headphones. Here's to getting through what I believe is the worst time of year for students! Stay strong and 樂 on 🎸💫 -Dreamy

TAGLIST @skzfelixlove @army-stay-noel, @hwangjuhong, @chizumiyoshi @hyunjinswifeee @geneziesm @sherryblossom @yeetfellx @bennetbutton @chillseo @hyuneyeon @seosalad @nhyunn @hyunjinnie2000 @ajxreads @n2tl4na @yeahhspider @8makes1scream @jetblackbelle @143hyunes @raginghellfire @sinforsuccubus @lixiesw1fe @chartrucewhore @freckleboilix @ultimatestayandminoronce @cheesytangerine @leyknowsbin @stay278 @strawberry-dreamland @lvrgrl-xo @moasworld @hyunnielix @httphans @chaotic-world-of-the-j @nyasstars @beautifulmusicaddict-blog @imasimplol @1clickawayfrominsane @xsw-void @queen-klarissa @hyunjinsamdl @heavenhannie @moasworld @kykeu @sxlxna @writingkills @boomfrogg @tyongyuta @levislifeline @hyunzerolv @starlost-andfound @browniebearr @hanniemylovelyquokka @ardef38 @loveemmy08 @anyhow-everything @liillii @sweetpickledjins @insertsomethingaboutanimehere @kylielovesu @moon0fthenight

***The users that I could not tag are written in pink***

If you'd like to join the taglist, click here!

NETWORK TAG @k-films

©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.

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justanamesstuff · 5 months

Text

Chapter 1

Seasons

Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: Hiii guys, I'm so nervous for this BUT very excited too!! I hope you like it <3

Warnings: swearing a bit?, typos maybe.

Word count: 3 K

MASTERLIST TAGLIST

Every season has its colours, has its smells, has its traditions. Like every season, this love has its particularities…

Around November of 2020, England

“Matty- Oh my god!!“

The constant banging on her wall and the high-pitched moaning at the other side woke Y/n up. Quickly, she took her pillow and placed it on top of her face, trying to muffle the horrible sounds reaching her ears. ‘God, is she having a good time? Or he’s killing her?’, the thought crossed the girl's mind.

Most of the time they weren’t that loud, but during that morning they just seemed to not care.

It was useless, the sounds were getting louder and louder. Y/n couldn’t bear with it any more and knowing that even if they –luckily– stopped she wouldn’t come back to sleep. So, Y/n decided to go downstairs. Maybe one of the guys was making breakfast, which would help with the awful start of her day.

Her prayers weren’t heard. The kitchen was empty and no breakfast was made. She tried to cheer up a little, because Y/n needed to survive the day. To be honest, every day and morning it was getting harder and harder.

After a quiet but long sigh, Y/n started cooking for everyone. Nothing unusual since she tried to do it most of the mornings in exchange for their generosity letting her stay at the boys' studio –which was half Matty’s house as well. Spending the quarantine rent-free with them, listening how they recorded the new album and messing around was a true blessing if she tried to focus on the bright side of everything.

Well, they kind of forced her because they were very against Y/n spending those months alone in her flat. The boys cared about the girl as a best friend and as a sister too. They were a bunch of drama queens most of the time, but deep down Y/n was enormously grateful with/for them.

Thinking about the first months, Y/n couldn’t deny those were amazing. The entire group spent a lot of quality time, doing the stupidest challenges, doing Instagram lives for the fans, watching a lot of movies, etc. Although everything took a turn when another person joined the party. When Nadia arrived.

It wasn’t like Y/n hated her, in fact, it was the opposite which created a big dilemma for her. Matty’s girlfriend was nice and the idea of having another girl was actually comforting during the tough times. But Y/n wasn’t so fond of the situation for other reasons.

For a period –a very long one– if you asked her, she endured with it and put on her best –fake– happy face. Y/n’s acting talents were very handy at times. Although, her true feelings were still there, underneath the surface, where no one can notice them. Specially Matty.

Time went by and the whole thing was making her more anxious, and although the idea of leaving crippled into her mind at every minute, she couldn’t really decide. Y/n didn’t want to leave but watching Matty 24/7 attached to the other girl’s side was taking the best of her mental health.

Y/n’s mind was running fast with thoughts while she cooked, which made her subconsciously ignore the tall man coming down after he heard movement downstairs. George watched his friend move around, knowing more than anyone in the house about her sorrows. George was probably the closest to her out of the four guys. He was the only one who knew all of her secrets and kept it secured as if it was his own.

The drummer stared at her, expecting for Y/n to notice him, but he acknowledged that the girl was in another dimension. She used to do that more than she liked to admit. George could bet ‘the morning moaning festival’ taking place half an hour prior was the main reason.

Y/n finished cooking a big amount of scrambled eggs and turned searching for a plate when she saw George standing in the partially lighted corridor. “Fuck G! You scared the shit out of me!” she exclaimed while resting a hand on her chest.

“Sorry!” the big man shrugged his shoulders. “Didn’t mean to scare you, love.” he apologized, approaching his best friend. “Good morning.” he greeted her properly, and she huffed.

“Good morning to you.” Y/n answered sarcastically after G placed a kiss on top of her head.

“So, you heard, huh?”

“I can’t stand it any more, G.” she let him know. “It’s just a lot.” she continued, lowering her voice scared another of the boys could hear her.

“I know, love.” the drummer said with an apologetic expression. “But the lockdown is nearly over, and y’know none of us would like you to go.” G said as he searched for mugs.

“Why not? It’s my life, my freedom!” Y/n protested, starting to get annoyed. “It’s getting worse every day…” Y/n desperately moved her hands in the air trying to prove her point.

“Believe me… I know!” George searched for her eyes, keeping eye contact when Y/n looked back at him, waiting for his next words. “I’m not in your…situation, but I’m getting a little annoyed too.” G agreed with her.

“Yes, but it’s his house. He can do whatever he wants…”

“I half agree.” G nodded. “This might be his house, but it’s the place we choose as a studio, so for the time being its our place too…yours too!” George continued rambling, filling the mugs with hot water. “So, they need to stop with the noises.”

A comfortable silence fell between them until Y/n broke it again thinking out loud.

“What the hell can I do?”

“About what?” A third voice came from the hallway. Matty made his entrance wearing a tired expression matching his gray sweatpants and plain shirt. He approached Y/n, leaving her a kiss on her right cheek. “What can you do about what, love?” he rephrased his question.

“I- It’s nothing — Morning” she said without looking at him, instead walking towards the table bringing a mug with her.

“There must be something. You sounded worried.” Matty insisted.

“It’s something between Y/n and I, mate.” George said in a joking way, trying to distract him. “Something between best pals, you wouldn’t understand it.” he stated, rounding Y/n with his left arm meanwhile he winked at Matty taking a sip of his morning tea.

“Fuck off!” Matty protested. They usually have a competition about the title which Y/n find equally lame and cute. She easily felt the tension leaving her shoulders, relaxing thanks to their stupid discussion, knowing that for now Matty dropped his interrogation.

“Tell him, darling!” G urged her.

“It’s too early for this fight. Shut up and sit. I’ll bring the cutlery.” Y/n said, detaching herself from George.

“Y/n is just too nice to tell ya, mate. She loves me more.” the singer continued joking, obviously unaware of the real implication of his words.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Matty.” George answered, sitting at his usual spot at the table.

“Who was the beautiful soul that made breakfast?” Ross entered the kitchen and stopped in his tracks, closing his eyes and inhaling dramatically.

“You know the answer.” John teased as he appeared from behind Ross. “You know you don’t have to, Y/n.” the musician approached her and helped with the forks and knives.

“Yes, for the hundred times…I know, John.” she looked at him. “But we all know that I would feel guilty since you all never let me pay for anything.”

“Because you don’t have to pay us, love.” Matty said from his place at the table with his sight fixed on his phone. He and the damn nicknames.

“But- “

“No but’s, Y/n. We’re happy to have you here!” Ross said as they all sat around the table.

They were serving breakfast when the conversation took another direction -something about the coronavirus and all of that. At the same time, the last resident of the house made her entrance.

Y/n sometimes envied her. Matty’s girlfriend always looked immaculate to a point that you could never think she just woke up. Y/n knew comparisons were wrong, but it was hard to avoid them. The girl felt awful: her hair was all tangled in a messy bun on the top of her head; only wearing an old t-shirt -from a not so famous band--and a pair of pyjamas short; and she was not wearing any makeup meanwhile she stuffed her breakfast on her face.

Nadia was all classy and perfect, the opposite of Y/n. Maybe that’s why he chose her and not his best friend. Y/n knew thinking like that was also wrong, yet again she couldn’t help it.

Y/n witnessed how Nadia greeted everyone and sat beside Matty, flashing him a cute smile he returned. They were in love, and it was obvious to everyone. Y/n was so happy for her best friend to find someone who loved him, although for many years she hoped that person would be her. For years, Y/n hoped Matty noticed her more than a mate.

When they first met, Y/n thought she felt a connection different from with anyone else in her life, although that changed quickly. Matty proved to her time and time again he didn’t want a relationship with her or nothing similar no matter how flirty he was during that first night. And Y/n forced herself her mind and heart to believe it.

Y/n was very unaware that, at the time she met the boys, Matty felt the same way she felt, but the old Matty didn’t want to lose the new friend he encountered. As another way to self sabotage himself, the young Matty did almost the impossible to show Y/n they were friends and just friends. A decision he took while being drunk became a life rule.

Since that moment, since that night, their relationship was kind of determinate. They were friends, the best friends. Not that night, but after a while, Y/n became part of the family and even Matty’s family –both sides– loved her as another member of their family. Y/n felt safe and loved, something she cherished so much since she hadn’t had that kind of love back home. Her family wasn’t like them, the opposite in fact.

For the longest time, Y/n tried to ditch her feeling for Matty. Every time a new girl showed up, tugged under his arm, Y/n decided it was the time to stop getting hurt and move on. Even though, her heart couldn’t do it. It hurt her. And with Nadia was the hardest since all of them could notice it was different, more mature…more serious. Nadia was more than a random girl for Matty and everyone was sure of that.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Matty interrupted Y/n’s inner monologue, staring at her, while his right arm was around Nadia.

“What?” Y/n answered, coming down to earth, with a question.

“You were gone.” everyone was strangely in silence while they looked at each other.

“I was just thinking about the government lifting the restrictions. Meaning, now I can go home.” she half lied, while messing with the leftovers of her breakfast. Y/n did chat about it with G that morning anyway, and it was a reality Y/n needed to get away from the lovers for a time.

“I told her, none of us want that.” George interrupted their conversation.

“Of course not.” Jaime, who joined the breakfast table, said to her.

“I know, guys. But it’s been almost four months and I- This is not my- “

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Matty warned her, and she looked him directly in the eyes.

“It’s the truth, Matty.” she said, dropping her fork on the plate.

“It’s not, this is your house too, Y/n/n.” Ross, sweet Ross, reminded her. “At the same time, if you want to go back to your flat, I understand. We’ll miss your meals.” his comment made everyone chucked, except Matty who was studying every one of her movements.

A weak smile was plastered on her face while she stared down towards her plate unable to make eye contact with Matty. “Don’t get me wrong. I love being here with you guys, but I need my space.”

“If this is about some couple…” Jaime looked at Matty and Nadia “Waking up the whole house.” he finished the sentenced winking like a cartoon.

“For fuck's sake.” Matty swore under his breath. “Is it about that?” he looked at Y/n.

“‘Course not!” she looked at him trying her hardest to hide her feelings.

“I wouldn’t blame you if that’s the reason. I’m sleeping on the other side of the house and I can listen to them. You’re right beside Matty’s room!” John emphatically said.

Before Matty could say a word, Y/n exclaimed, “It’s not about that, okay?” she simply lied.

Y/n could sense George staring at her. “It’s what I said, I need my space, and it’s not like I’m going to disappear.” another white lie. Y/n was planning to do exactly that for a while until her wounds healed again. “You’ll still have to bear with me.” she finished her little speech.

“We can simply send the couple to your flat, and you can stay here in peace” Ross joked this time. All of them except for Matty laughed again.

“Stop with that, he will get angry.” Y/n defended Matty.

“I know it’s not my house either,” Nadia started saying. “If I can say something, I would like you to stay, Y/n.” she continued rather shyly. “It’s nice to have a girl around.” Of course, she was so nice. “I promised we’ll keep it down.” she looked quickly at Matty for reassurance and then again at her.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry you’ll have to survive with these boys, but I really need to go.” Y/n explained. “Another reason is the fact that I have to prepare to get back to work soon.”

“So, when did you start thinking about leaving? Since you apparently have a lot of reasons to leave.” Matty said with a strange expression on his face.

“Matty-”

“Are you that eager to leave?” ‘He was pissed?’, Y/n thought.

“Matty- “she protested, not knowing what else to say.

“No, it’s okay. I get it! You want to leave, it’s okay.” he stood up from his seat gathering the plates to wash them.

“Matty!” Y/n said again.

“It’s fine, Y/n!” he said more sternly, obviously not fine with the situation.

The rest of the group –included Nadia–, took that as a cue to leave the friends so they could talk. They made stupid excuses, leaving Matty and Y/n alone in the kitchen.

Matty went to the sink, beginning to wash the dishes. After letting a big breath out, Y/n stood up approaching where he was standing.

“Why are you so angry?” she asked him, folding her arms, standing beside Matty looking at his profile. Matty was stroking the plates with more force than needed for the task in hand.

“I’m not. I said that I got it, and it’s fine.” he answered.

“You’re obviously not fine, Matthew.”

“Do you want to know how am I? Perfect.” he stated, turning the water off and drying his hand with a cloth while he turned to look at her. “I really don’t get it why you want to leave so suddenly.”

“It’s not that I want to- “another big lie. She wanted to, she needed to.

“Bullshit!”

Y/n tried to defend herself, “I’m not going to disappear…”

“Bullshit!”

“Can you stop that?” Y/n stood directly in front of Matty.

“I know you’re going to disappear. I know you. We’re best friends and something is bothering you, I can tell. It hurts that you’re not telling me anything and I fucking bet you told George already.” She couldn’t tell him the truth.

“Is this more about that competition?” Y/n tried to distract him.

“Yes- No- Of course, not- This is about you and me.” Matty said, melting her heart a little. He was obviously troubled with the idea of Y/n leaving.

“Matty, there is nothing…mayor going on. Trust me. I need silence. You said it, you know me. I crave my space…alone.” she told him sweeter this time.

“Yes, I know. But you can find somewhere here-“

“You know that’s a lie.” ‘What a hypocrite I am’, Y/n thought.

“I know.”

“You aren’t gonna miss me. You have the boy and Nadia- “she moved uncomfortably in her place.

“It’s not the same, you’re my best friend. I’ll miss you, darling.” Matty looked at her with his best doggy eyes.

“Don’t!” Y/n pointed a finger at him.

“What?” he played dumb.

“Don’t give me puppy eyes, it won’t work.” she smiled this time.

“Shit, are you so certain about it?” he looked down, defeated.

“Yes.” Y/n simply said.

“Okay, I understand. You can go.”

“Thanks for your permission that I didn’t ask for.” Y/n tried to joke.

“But- “ he ignored her.

“But?”

“But promise me that you are not going to disappear for too long.” he said, staring directly into her eyes.

“I promise.” Y/n said way too quickly. After a couple of seconds, she had to look elsewhere.

“Can we hug?” he said very slowly.

Y/n chuckled, placing her arms around his shoulders, at the same time Matty placed his on her waist.

“I love you.” Matty mumbled on her left shoulder.

“I love you too, Matty.” Y/n said, feeling it from the deepest of her heart. There lied the difference.

Maybe, she couldn’t love anyone like she loved Matty, even though she had to try for the good of their relationship.

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

Taglist: @hollybrislen

#matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty the 1975 #matty x you #matty x y/n #matty fanfic #friends to lovers #matty healy #the 1975 #Seasons #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 fanfiction

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callofdudes · 7 months

Note

König angst please please please!

I did struggle a little because I didn't have much context with this one. But I did come up with a little something for König angst. Thank you anon 😊

Tell me their Name, paint me in blood.

Summary: König never expected to get kidnapped, and he never expected to be interrogated on a familiar name from his past.

Word count: 2.9K+

Cw: angst, torture, talks of trauma, childhood friends Reader and König. Two lines of probably improper German.

König opens his eyes, gasping as cold water hits his face, freezing his cheeks and drenching his chest and legs. His eyelids feel heavy, water dripping from his bottom lip. Bright light invades his eyes, making him shy away, trying to get used to it.

"Wakey wakey," A voice comes from his left, a man walking closer, throwing the water pale to the ground with a clatter. König attempted to move before realizing he was secured tightly to a chair.

The man walked faced him, hands behind his back. "Verdammtes Licht…" (fucking light) König hissed, blinking rapidly.

"Sie werden sich daran gewöhnen." (you'll get used to it) The man replied, smug at revealing he knew the mother tongue.

"Whatever you want, I won't give you," König replied sharply.

The man hummed, reaching forward and grabbing Konig by the jaw, twisting his head to look him in the eye. "You have no idea what I could do to you. My name is Snake, and I already know yours. We're looking for a friend of yours, and you're to give me answers. Now."

König grunted. "I know no one!"

Snake frowned. "Not true. You see, we know your name and that you have a connection to a soldier named Y/n."

König's eyes widened.

Snake raised an eyebrow, smirking. "I thought so."

Y/n… No, no. König grits his teeth. "I don't know anyone like that. It's a dead end for you."

Y/n and him were childhood friends. Well, until he had to move from where he was living to Austria. You were an exchange student staying for a couple of years to finish school. You were friends right up until König left. You had always kept in contact. You were a dear friend to him. But when he joined the military, the connection stopped.

Snake gripped König's hair, pulling him forward. "You are lying to me. That little rat has been fucking us up, and you just so happen to know who the fuck they are. So don't play dumb with me."

König refused. He wouldn't. And besides, hearing your name was too painful.

Snake growled. "You don't have a choice here. I will make you talk. And it will only be more painful the longer you keep quiet."

König was stubborn, and it was about to cost him.

You woke up with your arm numb and aching. You blinked at the clock. Who on earth? You looked back at the window when you heard a rhythmic tapping. You sat up, ringing out your arm previously positioned behind your head.

Getting out of bed, you went to the window and opened it. Seeing none other than your favourite German boy. "König, what are you doing??" You rubbed your eye, yawning.

"I couldn't sleep again. I'm sorry to bother you, but you didn't answer my texts."

"Well, it's two in the morning." You sighed, stepping back. "Come get comfy then." You knew you couldn't shoo him away, watching him leave like a sad puppy who did something wrong. So König climbed into your window, brushing himself off and looking around again. "Ah- thank you."

"Come on, get some sleep."

You walked back to your bed, attempting to make room for König to slip in with you, and he did. Your first sleepover had been hesitant. He refused even the thought of sharing a bed with you. And when you were curled up on the couch later, he realized how nice it was, and things spiralled.

His arms wrapped around your waist, holding your back to his chest, keeping you securely against him.

"Thank you…" He whispered against your neck, closing his eyes softly. Attempting to let the stress go and relax. It was just you and him. All this drama going on between his parents wasn't happening.

He didn't hear them arguing again. There wouldn't be a divorce.

And you were there with him through it all.

A harsh slap sent him spiralling back into reality as Snake left a searing mark on his face. "Head up!" He demanded, the door opening and two other men entering.

König's eye twitched, he was tempted to spit on the ground before them.

One of the men was carrying a large metal toolbox.

Snake smiled. "This is the part where you tell me what I want to know, or… I won't be so nice."

König's eyes narrowed. He eyed the box, then Snake. His heart pounded. He could tell them. He honestly didn't know anything. All he knew was he joined the military and tried to move on.

Head in the game. His heart stuck back in that room with you. Back where you comforted him, hands wiping away his fallen tears and reminding him how much you loved him.

It made his stomach twist, and his heart clench, thinking of your smile. The face that still plagues his mind, infesting him like a virus.

"Nothing?" Snake asked, raising an eyebrow. "So be it."

König watched as the man put down the box and unlocked it, revealing the items inside. There were needles, hammers, pliers, and other items that would be used for torture.

König's eyes widened. "Fuck you!"

"That can be arranged. Unless you want to give me what I need to know." Snake pulls out one of the items, König's eyes watch it as Snake hands it to one of his men. A garrote.

The man moves behind König, who attempts to wriggle, snapping the wire around König's throat. He tightened it around Königs pulsing neck. König choked, trying to move back, feeling the tightness starting to dig its way into his flesh. The wire was thin and strong enough it easily sliced and drew blood while cutting his oxygen.

Snake leaned forward. "You have two options: tell me, or die slowly."

König wheezed. "F-Fuck off…" He gurgled on his blood that attempted to rise, and the man pulled back, letting König take a few deep breaths before tightening it again. König grits his teeth, looking up at Snake. He wouldn't release information. That's not what all this training was for.

But then, the wire was released, the soldier removing it from his neck covered in blood. The line where the skin was ripped along König's throat started to trickle blood faster.

Snake sighed. "You're an idiot. And it's your loss."

König breathed heavily, spitting blood out of his mouth and glaring up at Snake.

"Now, we could get to the good stuff," Snake said, pulling out a hammer.

König's heart raced. The hammer twisted in Snake's hand dangerously, suddenly swinging it and ringing it down on König's hand, smashing his knuckles. König tried to hold in his noises, grunting as the hammer lifted and hit the other hand, smashing down hard, and König heard a crunch, letting out a noise of pain this time.

"Where is Y/n? I will get it out of you," Snake said, twisting the hammer in his hand.

König tried to blink through the pain, his mind foggy and drifting, imagining you again. Waking up that next morning with you still in his arms. Hand running down your cheek, seeing how peaceful you were with you.

When all was said and done, you two could graduate together. And who knows, he hoped his life continued. No matter how his plans for the future seemed or how bleak the way. He wanted you to be with him.

Your eyelids fluttered open softly, looking up at him. "Hey there, big guy." You whispered. The way you said it never made him feel self-conscious about his height. It made him happy to hear you.

"Morning." He whispered back.

You leaned in, settling your head on his chest, wrapping an arm around him.

Those arms were cold as he stirred, head forced back as another bucket of water was brought in. Bringing him back to reality as the cold water was presented. One of the men, still with a tight grip on his hair, shoved a dirty rag in his mouth, covered in God only knows what.

He gagged, and the bucket was lifted to his face and poured. His vision was blurry as the water entered his nose. The rag blocked any oxygen he attempted to breathe in, and he gagged and coughed as he suffocated. He tried to thrash, but they held his head up, forcing the water down his throat and up his nose.

His heart was racing, his hands burned, and so did his throat. His mind raced as he was unable to get air. It wasn't long until his head started to become fuzzy, the blackness at the edges of his vision threatening to swallow him up.

He started to slip away, only to be pulled back, the bucket removed. And the rag from his mouth, allowing him to choke out what was obstructing his oxygen. Water pooled down his lips and chin, gasping for air and coughing violently.

Snake again right there, on him like a hunter on fresh prey. He pulled out a photo and showed it to him. König fought for his vision, panting as it focused in again, seeing the photo.

It was you. A gun in hand, looking down the sight, sharp eyes focused on the target. You were wearing a SpecGru outfit.

He panted. That was you.

"Where. Is. Y/n?"

König shook his head. "I don't know! I don't know anything about them!"

Snake growled. "I will make you regret this."

König stared down at the photo. Seeing you, seeing your face again. He smiled. His vision went blurry again before his head was shoved back into the bucket, choking and forced to take more water. His lungs burned, and his head felt heavy again as the water continued to invade every orifice it could.

He struggled, inhaling water from every angle. Seeing your eyes again. Remember looking into them in slight glances from a classroom full of other people. Seeing how you lit up when you saw the book you'd wanted at the library. Laughing with him over coffee while your homework was spread out without a care.

And your laugh… God, he really wasn't over you. He thought that if he forced you away from himself enough, you would leave. That you would wriggle from his life, and the pain would stop.

The pain of missing you every day. The pain of knowing you were an enemy now. The pain of his lack of oxygen made his head swirl and circuit, trying to fight.

His own tears mixed with the water as he thrashed for his life.

And he was pulled back up.

"Please," König pleaded, gasping for breath as Snake took his time, looking over the photo once more.

"Please! I don't know where they are, please believe me!"

Snake looked back at König, his eyes narrowed. "Then you will die for nothing."

König choked, the rag shoved back into his mouth, and the water poured back into his throat, pouring down on him.

He tried to struggle as he felt burning in his sides, blood dripping from his thighs, screaming and thrashing for any way out. They continued to inflict more pain on him. He tried anything he could do…

"Hey, Hey, König…" You stopped him, seeing the tears flooding down his cheeks. "Shh, what's wrong?" You let him inside, closing the door, and he shook, wrapping his arms around you.

You held him back, having a feeling you knew what this was. He didn't let go, keeping you close to him, burying his head in your shoulder, shaking violently.

"What happened??" You asked quietly, running your hand down the back of his head. He sniffled, so upset and scared. "The divorce is final…" König's voice shook.

"König… I'm so sorry." You knew how hard this was for him, holding him tightly.

"She's taking us to Austria next month." His voice broke, clinging to you. He may never see you again. The realization hit you as you

hugged him back, tears filling your eyes. Clinging on as tightly as you could. "König…"

You both kneeled on the cold tile floor, holding each other, being with each other. The last thing he got to do was hug you. You were in his arms one more time before he left on the plane. The following years of his life were torture, living with new people.

And he didn't have you to turn to. He could call you on the phone, but couldn't hold you. He couldn't see you face to face. He couldn't climb in your window to cuddle you for grounding…

He didn't feel like he ever really had a chance to say goodbye. And that haunted him.

He thought he could get over it… Get over you. How it took him now to realize this. How you always found a way to run back into his life and shatter the illusion that he was holding himself together alone perfectly fine.

Knowing that he'd die a foolish man.

His mind was spinning, barely realizing his body gasping for air, choking and vomiting, trying to grasp reality, but the torture kept coming.

His heart was racing, and he wasn't sure if his hands were numb from being smashed or his head was fuzzy from the lack of oxygen. The blackness was closing in on him, and he felt so faint.

His ears rang, unable to make out Snake's voice. He felt hot. Like he was burning up.

He was going to die. He would never see you again. You would never know…

And he wouldn't ever get to tell you.

How he loved you.

The last thing he saw was the photo. The only thing he could hear was your voice.

His body blocks out the hammer that collided with his temple or the blade that slashes into his abdomen. Tears stream down his cheeks, fading more and more as he's preyed on.

"We will find them. And we will kill them. Just like we will kill you." Snake's voice finally smashed through the sweet illusion of his death. Of his demise with you right in front of him. Wishing he could hold you.

Wishing he could cry to you. Wishing… So much wishing… He had so many wishes that would never come true.

The cut was deep, and he could barely feel it.

Snake looked at his work. König was gone, the look in his eyes was empty. He had been here before. Where König was now. He could see it in his eyes. His mind was trying to save him from the pain.

The fucked reality he's been living in where he's never tried to pick up and call you.

Where he blamed everything for what happened. He blamed himself for it all. And now you were back. You always came back for him. You never left him.

Snake's eyes narrowed, looking back at the photo. "Take him away. He's useless."

The men followed orders, carrying König away to be dumped.

And you. You were in danger. Snake would get to you one way or another. He would have his revenge.

And König would die.

König would never get to see you again.

The one person he wanted to hold in his arms again.

You were about to wake up that morning, and he was nowhere to be seen. But instead, you were woken up by a knock on your door.

And your world shattered.

You didn't get to say goodbye.

Your father gave you the news the plane had left, and König was gone. He'd hugged you the night before, but you never got to say goodbye. Tears filled your eyes, knowing you wouldn't see him in person again for a long time.

But you were determined to be in his life. One way or another. Even if it wasn't meant to be. You should have given up. Trying to stay got him killed. It would get you killed. And no one would win except your enemies.

But you refused to let him go.

You would find him.

No matter what it costs.

"König," you said, reaching up and touching his cheek. His eyes slowly opened, looking down at you, his eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry." You whispered. König reached out to touch you, ignoring the cold feeling in his body as he lay among the trash for his life to fall away. He ignored the blood and the pain he felt. Tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry I didn't come back…" He choked out, shaking.

You smiled, "It's okay, I'm here now."

König choked on a sob, holding onto you tightly. You were cold. Your arms which he'd loved so much when he was younger were frigid, but he couldn't let go.

He would never let go.

You held him back.

His eyes closed, and the ringing filled his ears, everything around him falling away as he held you. And soon, that too was gone. The illusion of you. His body gave up its fight, and he slipped away. Lying dead on the cold ground, soaking wet, bleeding, broken.

You always wanted to be together, one way or another.

And life vowed to keep you apart. One way… or another.

#call of duty #x reader #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig cod #könig x reader #angst #call of duty modern warfare #könig x y/n #readers gender isnt specified #it could be seen as platonic but there are some slightly stronger romantic tones #but its angst so does it matter in the end lol?#nearly forgot the gif :(

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oversizedcat538 · 2 months

Text

Gojo Satoru x Reader

TLDR: You agreed to be Gojo's fake girlfriend and now you have to attend dinner with his parents.

Gojo and (Y/N) have been close friends since their freshman year in high school. They used to go on all kinds of adventures, stirring up mischief wherever they went. However, since they started college together, things have been relatively calm.

That is, until a month ago. Gojo began having trouble with a new girl in his class. He was trying to be nice to her, but it quickly turned into a headache as she wouldn't leave him alone. (Y/N) could see the stress on his face every time his phone rang. So, when he asked her to pretend to be his girlfriend, she agreed without hesitation. The plan worked perfectly! The girl began to back off and leave him alone, making him feel more relieved than ever.

Even though (Y/N) wanted to end it, Gojo insisted they keep up the act to satisfy his parents' curiosity about a possible daughter-in-law. She reluctantly agreed, wanting to be a good friend. Until now. Gojo stood in front of her, with a smirk on his face. "My parents are asking about you again," he said, "Do you think you can attend a dinner with us tonight?"

"I absolutely can't," she exclaimed as the absurd suggestion of meeting his parents left her breathless. "This is getting ridiculous. We need to just call it quits and come clean."

Gojo's tone was half-joking and half-serious as he replied, "I can't just call it quits, babe. My dad is already pressuring me about us being in love and getting married. If he finds out it was just a cover-up, he would lose his mind. You have to do it... It's the only way we can keep this charade up a lil' longer." She crossed her arms, mirroring his stance. "Why exactly do we have to keep this going? Didn't that girl leave you alone already?"

"She did, but now the drama has moved to my parents," he rolled his eyes. "They were already suspicious it was all fake, to begin with. Now, they're calling me every day and asking about wedding plans and kids. You think I haven't tried to stop their insanity? Of course, I have, but it's not working. I need you to come tonight."

A brief silence fell over them as they exchanged looks. Feeling a bit uneasy, she looked elsewhere, not wanting to look at him anymore. She could feel his eyes burning into the side of her face. After a moment, she glanced back and groaned in defeat, throwing up her hands. "Ugh. Fine! You get one night!" His whole face lit up into the most wide-mouth smile. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I knew I could count on you. I'll pick you up at 7:30! No later!" Gojo was practically bouncing with excitement, which was a little off-putting. "Oh! And... wear something nice." She rolled her eyes and watched as he bounced away in a hurry.

~Time Skip to 7:30~

She looked at herself in the mirror, making sure she was dressed appropriately. It was skin-melting hot outside, so she chose to wear a casual black summer dress. She heard a car honking outside just as she sprayed some perfume on herself. She felt nervous about leaving the house but decided to swallow her pride and go. She was a damn good friend after all.

Gojo's white BMW was idling in the driveway, its bright lights beaming from the dark driveway towards the front door. She could almost hear him humming a tune from within, waiting anxiously for her to get into the car. The windows were slightly rolled down, his elbow sticking out the window as he waved at her to come. As she got closer, her anxiety increased. What if Gojo's parents didn't like her? What if they thought she wasn't good enough for him? Even though they weren't dating, these thoughts made her anxious.

She opened the car door and swiftly got in, closing it behind her. The tension was thick as she buckled up her seatbelt. Before Gojo could even put the car in gear, he looked at her with a mischievous grin. "You look great! My parents are gonna love you." He glanced at her, making sure the compliments were working before turning his attention to the windshield as he began to pull out of the driveway. She began to dread the rest of the night, sighing in response. She turned her attention to him, putting on a small smile. "Thanks.." She paused, unsure of how to continue. "So..is there anything I should know before we get there?"

Gojo glanced over, shooting her a playful grin. "Not much... Just that they're a little intense. Especially my dad... He'll probably give you the whole rundown of our family's history and expect you to know all about it. If you just pretend to be interested, it will hopefully go over smoother." He glanced again with a reassuring smile on his face, "That's pretty much it. Not too complicated." She just smiled and nodded, glancing out the window "Right.."

The rest of the car ride was nothing but awkward and anxious silence, with the soft sounds of the wind and the radio. Before she knew it, they were pulling into a driveway. Suddenly, she began to feel like she might be sick from the sheer terror that lingered inside her chest. "We're here..." Gojo said, bringing the vehicle to a stop and turning off the engine. She could feel her stomach turn into knots at the mere thought of meeting his parents. He turned towards her with a grin and gave her shoulder a playful bump, "Don't worry. I'll be right next to you the whole time. If they start getting too intense, I'll step in." She nodded, taking a deep breath and opening the car door. Gojo joined her side and grabbed her hand with a grin. "Hey..let's head in, yeah?"

They approached the house, a modern two-story home with a mix of traditional Japanese architecture. It was quite nice, her eyes observing the detail. Gojo's grip on her hand only tightened as he noticed her growing anxiousness, hoping that it would reassure her. She looked at him, a smile instantly lighting up her face. (Y/N) squeezed his hand back in response, feeling a bit flustered at the fact she was actually holding his hand, something she had never done in the past 5 years of their friendship. Before either of them could speak up, the front door opened. There stood an older couple in sleek casual clothing, his mom had long, straight white hair and his father had shorter wavy white hair. Both had stern looks on their faces as they observed the pair. "Ah, so this is her..." His mom said as they approached, "You've finally brought her home, son."

(Y/N) instinctively bowed at them, wanting to remain respectful. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Gojo." The pair looked at her for a moment, his dad sizing her up carefully as his mom nodded. "We've heard great things. Come in, come in. We would love to get to know you a bit better." His mom gestured the pair forward as she and his father began walking back into the home, his dad glancing back with a serious look on his face. His mother led them into the kitchen, which looked like something out of a cooking show. Gojo gently squeezed her hand, hoping to distract her from the intense stares of his parents. Taking a deep breath, she entered the dining room where Gojo courteously pulled out her chair and pushed it back in after she sat down. She acknowledged his gesture with a grateful nod and a smile. Gojo gave her a reassuring nod as his parents took their seats across from them, with his mother stealing another glance at her before starting to speak. "We are very pleased to finally meet you. Gojo speaks about you so often, and getting to see you in person brings us much joy."

~A lil time skip~

After dinner, there was a lot of chatter at the table. The small talk at first was a bit awkward, but Gojo's parents did what every other parent does when their child invites a love interest over; they shared embarrassing stories from his childhood. It all made sense now why Gojo was the way he was, as his adventures and mischievous behavior as a child had contributed to his personality. As they all laughed, her eyes met Gojo's, and she felt an unfamiliar feeling in her stomach. She noticed his eye contact lingered on her a few seconds longer than it should, and there was almost a faint blush on his cheeks. She couldn't take her eyes off him, noticing little things about his body movements and mannerisms that just felt slightly different from their usual ones around each other. Throughout the rest of their time at the table, she could feel Gojo's eyes on her, as if he wasn't even listening to the current conversation. Eventually, Gojo's parents and (Y/N) stood from the table, catching him off guard. (Y/N) looked at him confused and motioned her head to the door with a small smile. "Hey, it's getting late."

As they walk out the door together, (Y/N) turns and waves, yelling her goodbyes from the driveway, feeling more comfortable now with their presence. She smiles big as she gets into the car, closing the door. Gojo cranks the car and seems to be a bit off. "What's wrong?" she quietly says, glancing over at him with a worried look, "You were a bit quiet after dinner." He looks over at her and smiles, trying to hide what he is feeling. He can tell she's picking up on his emotions, and that worries him a bit. He pulls out of the driveway, driving for a few seconds before speaking up, "Nah, nothing. Just a lot on my mind. My parents were just getting on my nerves a bit is all."

They share a pause of silence before (Y/N) speaks up, sounding very apologetic. "Oh, I'm sorry Satoru. I didn't mean to upset you by laughing. I was just trying to make conversation with your parents."

"That's not what I mean..." He paused for a moment, thinking of how best to explain his thoughts. "I liked seeing you laugh. It was nice." He paused for a few seconds as he looked at her from his peripheral vision, trying to gauge her response before looking at the road again. She smiled even though she was a bit confused, feeling at ease knowing he wasn't upset with her, "You make me laugh all the time, though?"

He chuckled at her response, glancing at her again as he thought about what to say. Just do it. It's what you've wanted all night. Why back out now? Just say it. "You make me happy...is what I mean"

There it was. That feeling again. Feeling a bit surprised by his seemingly cryptic response, she looks at him, wanting to read into his words correctly. If he meant what she thought he meant, she wanted to come clean too. "You make me happy too, Gojo." He smiles brightly, taking a deep breath with a look of relief on his face. He can't stop himself from taking her hand and lacing his fingers through hers. He looks over and gives her that playful, devilish grin of his. "Well, well, well. Look at you, all confident." She playfully nudges him hard, feeling a bit flustered as he seemingly puts the attention on her, "Oh, shut up. You're the one who said it first." He laughs at the sudden jab on his abdomen and looks over, amused at her playful anger. "Yeah.. So? You were obviously flirting with me the whole night, too, so don't go trying to deny it all of a sudden." He looks back straight ahead, making his eyes wide with a grin spreading across his face. She gasps at the false accusation he threw at her, looking at him sternly. "Oh, says the man who was eye fucking me at the table!" He bursts into laughter as he can't contain the noise any longer. His fingers squeeze hers tightly as he looks her over with that look in his eyes. "Heh heh.. guilty. I might've been." She groans and rolls her eyes, holding a smile back as she turns towards the window.

As they drove, he chuckled and continued to gaze at her with a slight grin on his face. The air was filled with a comfortable silence. After a few moments, he broke the silence with a question. "Are we even pretending anymore?" She thought for a moment as they stopped at a red light, then looked back at him. "I...don't know, are we?" They remained silent for a few seconds before he replied with one word. "No." He followed her lead and turned to face her.

They shared a lingering look before Gojo leaned over and connected their lips in a soft kiss, catching her off guard. She eased into the kiss, closing her eyes and moving slightly closer to him to tighten their locked lips. They embraced each other tightly as they kissed (one of his hands still on the wheel ofc), with each moment making their hearts beat faster and faster. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, which made her want him even more. There was a lingering sense of ecstasy and pure bliss that filled her mind as they continued to hold the kiss, neither one wanting to pull away just yet.

Then, a sudden and loud car horn startled them both, causing them to jump back into their original positions. The car behind them continued to honk as the green light illuminated their flustered and embarrassed faces. Despite the awkward situation, (Y/N) couldn't help but start giggling, Gojo joining in as he began to drive. His hand rested on her thigh during the remainder of the drive as they snickered and joked about the events that had just unfolded.

The chatter between the two eventually subsided as they pulled into (Y/N)'s driveway. The pair exited the car and walked up to the porch. (Y/N) nudged Gojo and said, "I had a great time tonight. Thank you for inviting me to your parents' dinner. They were both lovely."

"I'm happy my parents approve," he said with a serious expression, stepping back after giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head. "It was my pleasure having you around. You were an absolute delight." He winked at her and chuckled. "Otherwise, that dinner would've been a lot more awkward if they didn't."

(Y/N) took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. "Mannn, that would have sucked," she laughed, and Gojo joined in. "For sure. We can't have you becoming the target of their lectures too, now can we?" He smiled and playfully poked her on the shoulder. "Anyways, it's quite late, and I should get going, so you can get some rest. Unless you want me to stay the night and protect you from those evil cursed spirits? I could always cuddle and give you forehead kisses." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. She giggled at his "smooth talk" and sarcastically said, "Say, how'd you know I have a cursed spirit problem?"

She turned to the door and unlocked it, heading inside and leaving the door wide open for him.

*Hi, thank you for reading if you've read this far! I haven't written fan fiction since like middle school, so if the writing or story seems jank, then I apologize. Requests are open if you feel like submitting something! Again, thank you!!!!* EDIT: Hi, again! Soo for some weird reason, a few paragraphs like..duplicated over top of each other? I'm low-key embarrassed, but it should be fixed now!!

#jjk x reader #jjk #gojo satoru #x reader #x you #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #fanfic #imagine #one shot

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chocoloveaatcocoalovea · 4 months

Text

Sweetened Interruption

mammon x reader, crack, fluff, tickle fights, kissing

Mammon and you relax in the HOL but then a tickle fight break out between the two of you.

Today was an uneventful day.

Contrary to popular belief, the House of Lamentations did have some off days, if you could call them that. They were just... rare. Extremely rare.

Well, you did have to try to wrestle Beel away from the fridge. And stop Solomon from 'helping' the angels cook. And calm Luke down because somebody called him the dog name that started with a C. And... scratch that, today was quite possibly at most, ordinary at a minimum level.

And yet, you treasured these moments a great deal; after all most of the time you were either giving therapy to god's problem children or caught up in both godly and devildom magical, supernatural drama.

So, to be just lying on the bed, having a slow day with Mammon? That was basically a dream come true.

Mammon was reading a comic book on his bed, pillow propped behind his back and humming a little tune as he leisurely scrolled through the pages.

You sat up on the bed with a yawn. You were bored. Sleepy. You needed something to do. Trying to count pink sheep to fall asleep didn't work so not knowing what to do, you dragged yourself towards Mammon.

You moved his hands so you can rest your head on his lap, then tried to cover your eyes and face with the jacket he was wearing; the lights were a little too bright in this part of the room.

However, it was short and you failed miserably and in the process, saw Mammon's concentrated look as he was reading the comic book.

A hint of pink was dusted on his cheeks - goodness, this man knew you liked him and he liked you but still blushed like a teenager with a crush. How fricking damn loveable.

You smiled at his reaction and flapped the two sides of the open jacket, meddling and playing with them like they were a toy.

" . . . "

You let out a content sigh at the cozy silence.

"What are you doing?" Mammon asked in a teasing lilt.

Though your face was covered by the jacket, you could hear the grin in his voice.

You heard him put his book on the bed, to his side.

You said nothing, just continued flapping the jacket with a happy smile, like you were a bat and they were your wings.

"Yer weird, ya know?" Mammon said, gently tracing the smile lines on your cheek with one hand.

This is nice, you thought to yourself.

"It's like a tent. For your face. Head," you said, tugging the lapels of the jacket close to show him your 'weird' logic.

Mammon shook his head with a chuckle, picking the comic book from the page he left off and continuing to read.

You jabbed a finger onto his side.

Poke.

Poke. Poke.

Poke. Poke. Poke.

Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke.

"Ehe."

Mammon's smile fell once he realized you both heard the sound that escaped from him.

Oh boy. Uh oh.

With a menacing smile growing on your face, you positively tackled him to the bed.

Before Mammon could choke out a protest, you grinned at him, delighted giggles bubbling up from your lips as you tickled his sides. The maroon sheets under you both rustled with the demon's frantic movements to escape from you.

"AHAHAHAHAH- TREASURE, NO- STOP TICKLE-"

You did not stop.

"No, no, no, wait- "

Laughter.

"Stop!"

More laughter.

Mammon, still writhering on the bed like a worm trying to swim, tried to tackle you and probably, tickle you too.

"Eek."

He didn't succeed but fell from his bed onto the wooden floor with a thud.

"Aaah!"

"Oh my- "

Initial shock turned to worry as you rushed to his side.

"ARE YOU OK?"

"Got you!" Mammon said, impish smile growing, wrapping you in his arms and tickling your sides.

"Oh, please, no- "

You were now giggling uncontrollably.

"Hey! Hey, no, wait- "

"Nope."

You tried to escape but your efforts were in vain. You were guffawing, flailing your arms desperately like some odd creature, struggling miserably, until...

Until... you had an idea.

You kissed Mammon.

The hands that were tickling your sides rested on your waist as Mammon leaned into the kiss.

At first you were giggling. Then you relaxed, both of you melting into the embrace.

"Hmmm." Mammon sighed out once you parted, "That's not going to work."

"It already did," you said cheekily.

And just like that, you turned to leave.

Mammon gaped at you. His face turned pink, perhaps from the boldness you just displayed.

"You can't just do that and leave!"

You, like the mature adult you are, stuck your tongue out.

"Watch me."

"You know what?" Brows furrowed and deep in thought, Mammon stared at the floor, as if debating himself.

When he saw you walking away, he snapped out of it and caught up to you.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no. You do not," Mammon huffed, standing beside you with folded arms.

"What?" you asked innocently.

"Where are you going? "

Your response was a shrug and nonchalant hum.

"You can't just leave!"

"Why not?"

"Cause- "

Creases in your eyes from the smug smile, you took this as an opportunity to plant a kiss on his lips again, leaving him breathless when you were done.

Mammon blinked owlishly. He was still trying to realize what just happened, mouth still slightly agape slightly from disbelief.

You just smiled, waved your hand with a 'Bye!' like he usually did and turned to leave.

Mammon let out something between a groan and a whine. With a gentle yank of your hand, you were back in his arms again, him pressing your lips together a little forcefully in mild frustration, then breaking the kiss but instantly pressing your lips back together, the gestures so soft, so gentle but leaving you breathless nonetheless.

Mammon stroked your cheek before you parted from another kiss and as he cupped your face he spoke softly, blue eyes starstruck and golden, "You can't leave now."

"I thought you wanted to finish the comics?" You asked, giving him an amused look and tilting your head in the direction the book laid.

After a mischievous shake of his head and a chuckle, Mammon leaned in close to you and whispered softly, "This is better."

And with that reply, he connected your lips once more, silencing your smug laughter with his sweet kiss.

heart divider - @/kimjiho1

heart gif - @/pastelwalks

support divider - @/benkeibear

#mammon x reader #obey me mammon x reader #mammon x reader fluff #obey me mammon

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l0verb0t · 3 months

Text

dick grayson × gn reader. | breakfast date.

SUMMARY: a fic about taking dick out to a cafe early in the morning. WARNINGs: minor physical contact, && food. WORD COUNT: 2100+ NOTEs: second person && no plot. this insert is more of a blunt, concerned type. [gentlemen && guy, and no pronouns used to refer to the insert/reader.]

His back hurts, it's still cold as hell, and he's pretty sure he sprained something after last night, but at least he could deal with walking with you to a cafe, pain aside. Luckily, you didn't ask about how slow he was being. He's always able to catch up fast enough.

You knew well about the cold problem, though, because Dick keeps complaining about it.

Shame on you for asking him if he wanted to get breakfast in the morning, apparently.

Another night out left him tending to his bruises until the early sunrise. He made up for the lack of rest by passing out in it for a good few hours until the ringing from his phone finally woke him up to the bright light beaming through his curtains.

He spent a good amount of time groaning in his sheets as he let the pain settle in until he got used to it.

Some greetings were thrown back and forth, and then you went on talking about some cafe. It was close enough, and it sounded nice based on your experience. He just had to keep himself from falling back into unconsciousness as he listened, trying to give a hum every time you asked something.

But it's not like you knew. You know who he is; he just doesn't talk much about his outings. The concern gets in the way sometimes, crowds his thoughts.

Instead of saying anything about it, he's busy talking about the weather instead. He knows it might come up.

He knew what he was getting himself into, too. He didn't force himself to come; he just wanted to spend an afternoon with you. It beats sleeping in all day again.

That, and you offered to pay the bill. Apparently, it's cheap enough and has a breakfast section.

The weather is nice in Blüdhaven for a change, with a simple snowstorm overhead that's been going on for nearly a week. Highlights along the streets that the two of you pass by.

Despite how hard he's shivering, he manages to call out to you. "Do you think it's going to get worse?"

He nearly doesn't hear you through the rubbing of fabrics; he hears about everyone else on the crowded walkways, almost bumping into someone at every turn as he follows you.

"What is?"

"The snow." He puts his focus ahead rather than making sure he doesn't trip, and he sees you scrolling through something on your phone. "Barely been a few days, and it's up to my boots."

He takes the chance to get up closer. "I think I preferred when it was just cold."

"It's not that bad."

You walk up ahead of him, and he jogs immediately after.

Dick keeps his head down so he doesn't have to deal with the snow pelting him in the face. So he doesn't lose you in a crowd, he follows your shoes and just hopes he doesn't bump into anyone else on the way there. Your hand is right there, but he stops himself from doing anything.

He just rambles on to distract himself. "Speak for yourself. I'm going to freeze in a couple minutes."

"Drama king." Your phone gets shoved back into your pocket. "Just live for a little while longer; we're almost there."

He knows you can't see it, but he still smiles at you.

He copies you and stuffs his hands into his jacket. The cold only serves to irritate the bruised skin along the knuckles. You're going to see them eventually; he ran out of bandages.

And you were right; it wasn't far.

It took around half an hour walking through a mini-snowstorm to get to the place. Dick brings himself to look up for a moment, catching something along the lines of, "Coffee and Co." on the sign along the front before he's getting pulled along inside by his sleeve.

The door is kept open for him, and he mutters something about you being a gentleman, but he can't bring himself to talk too loud as he gets hit in the face with a cold breeze.

Dick follows you in without complaint, letting you pull at it to the point where that one arm is back outside the jacket. Immediately, he rubs his nose with the sleeve. He makes a mental note to order something warm, just so he doesn't risk having to go out while sick again.

He drags his shoes against the rug at the entrance and then looks around at the dark and dim tones carrying along the interior. It's a nice change of pace from the bright white piling up outside.

Even the lamps above are a much softer yellow, but that doesn't matter much as the light blaring out through the windows covers every corner throughout the cafe.

People are strewn about, taking up most of the seating, that the only few tables left are all the way in the back. At least he can drape himself along the cushioned chairs.

Dick gets patted on the back and can only bring himself to laugh off the gentle contact before he pushes himself further in.

He's taken to a table, and he pulls out a chair for himself.

And then he's staring right back at you, and now he feels like he walked all the way here just to look like a mess.

He doesn't know what to call the two of you, just that whatever it is, he still wants to look nice for you.

Instead, he was too tired earlier to care. When it came time to meet up with you, he ran around his apartment, picking off his suit to switch with anything he could find that seemed presentable enough. He doesn't remember if he even brushed his teeth, so he keeps his mouth shut as he smiles back.

With a small table between the two of you, he's seated right across. He tries to keep to his side as he props his arms along the rim, leaning against it. There isn't too much space, as a good half of it is covered in stands and condiments.

"This place looks nice, right?"

He can't help but stare at you as he mutters back. "Very pretty."

You flip through one of the stands on the back and take out two menus. One gets placed right over his arms, opened so he can look through the first two pages. They're both lists of the different kinds of beverages they have.

He barely skims through them before picking off something that has caffeine.

It probably won't be enough to help him through the rest of the day, but maybe your little hangout will end before that, and he can just crash on his couch for the rest of it.

You have to snap him out of it a couple times, slowly pulling him out of the exhaustion crowding his head, and he can barely tell you what he wants.

"Is that it?"

He nods, and instantly he's told, "You need something to eat, Dick."

He has to push himself up from his position just so he can flip through the menu just as quickly as before. He doesn't know if he can stomach much, so he goes with a couple muffins and scrambled eggs just so you won't pick up on anything. It's enough, he thinks.

You push yourself back from the table, and your chair screeches against the floor for a moment.

And he takes the moment to rub his eyes. It doesn't matter that he can hear almost everyone from where he's sitting; he's slept through worse.

He watches as you head over to the counter. No one was in line, so you went right onto the orders to a cashier standing at it.

After everything was accounted for, he was about to open his wallet and get up before he saw you open yours first.

Right, something about paying.

When you sit back down, silence overtakes your guys' space again. It just makes Dick uncomfortable, despite the atmosphere.

He drags a hand down his face to keep himself from trailing off again, and he takes the plunge to try and make conversation, quiet as he talks.

"So." His fingers begin tapping against the wood in a repetitive pattern as he draws out the silence. "How's life been treating you?"

"Good."

"Great." His head nearly hits the table as he lets it drop while he's left to fill the silence again.

It feels like a mercy when you do it instead. "Are you okay?"

He rests his head against a hand as he props up an elbow on the table, staring back at you all the while. Nothing intelligible comes out on the first try, so he shuts his mouth real quick before trying again.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Well—could be better." He takes in a deep breath and holds back a sigh. "But I'm fine."

"You look tired."

He almost regrets even trying to start up a conversation, but it wasn't like you wouldn't pick up on it eventually. You didn't need to be a detective.

"Yeah, you know work."

He knows you're staring at him still, even after he's turned away to look at the table. At the very least, he's slowly becoming conscious enough that he isn't toppling over anymore.

"You're allowed to have a life outside of work."

"I know." With his free hand, he gestures back to you. "I'm trying to. Right here."

It's not a lie. He doesn't think so; everything's just muddled.

Your voice doesn't help with it. It's probably one of the nicer things he's heard all week, even if it doesn't have much competition with the insults and yelling and screaming he's been getting from people while on the clock.

"You're not hurt or anything, are you?"

"No—" He takes in a sharp breath through his clenched jaw. "Yes. It's not that bad, though. Don't worry about it."

He interrupts you the second your mouth opens again.

"I promise."

"Could we get you checked out at a doctor later? Just in case." And before he can protest, you interrupt him just the same. "You—Blüdhaven needs you. At least through it, you can find out if you have a sprain or something, and be wary of that while going out."

He knows what you're trying to do, but he relents anyway.

"Okay. We can—can do it after this."

He smiles back to try and distance the conversation from the concern. The silence just makes him want to pass out until breakfast comes in even more.

"So," He groans, looking away as he tries to play into the awkwardness. "That weather, am I right?"

"Yeah, that weather." Before Dick can excuse himself to the restroom and wait it out there, he turns back to you when he hears a snort.

He shuts his eyes and leans into his hand more, muffling his own voice. "You're really not giving me much to work with here."

"Sorry." He's about to bring up the checkup when you continue. "You know I care about you, right?"

He doesn't even have to force the smile this time. "I know."

He can't bring himself to look back at you, though, and instead takes a deep breath before leaning back into his chair.

"I just want you to be okay."

"I'll try to be—"

A voice at the counter calls out for someone, an unfamiliar name. When Dick turns over to look, he sees a guy running up to grab a paper bag with the cafe's name on the front of it.

He watches them leave, just for your name to be called out right after, finding two plates on a tray.

He lets you get up to grab it. It's not like he's going to let you watch him limp over there.

One of the plates is immediately slid right over to him, his drink in some sort of plastic container.

Without waiting, he gives a quick, "Thank you."

And then he grabs a fork to stuff some of the food into his mouth. It burns for a second, so he just lets it settle as he chews slowly.

"You're welcome."

He uses the breakfast as an excuse to keep his gaze from yours, stress slowly overcoming the feeling of his stomach eating itself. He tries to push it down with another large spoonful while he grabs the ketchup.

The lid is popped open, and he holds it over the eggs. It barely misses the rest of his food as a ton plops down instantly.

"Great." Without more of a complaint, he stabs his fork into it.

He grabs his drink and tries to swallow down the taste of tomatoes, but nothing comes out.

He looks over the table and sees how you're actually drinking yours, and now he's thinking about how he's going to ask you how you opened the lid without sounding like an idiot.

Until then. "Is yours any good?"

"It's as sweet as you."

His smile grows wider as he makes sure not to laugh at you just for being sweet. Instead, he places a hand over one of yours.

"Ew."

#dc comcis #dick grayson x gn reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #written #fluff #okay. n e ways (

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