#no offense but one month is enough for me lolol

[koishua]

⟡ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝟐𝟏𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 ─── park jay

synopsis ─── at seven years old, heather brown finds a friend in jay jeongseong park. at ten years old, she realizes that she found a lifelong partner in him. at eighteen years old, she wishes that she had told him she loved him for the first and last time (she does not—could not, of anything— and it's all because she can't live a life without daniel yeonjun choi).

starring ─── daniel yeonjun choi. heather nabeom brown, a female original character. jay jeongseong park. additionally, beomgyu choi, sunghoon park and heeseung lee.

genre ─── angst, childhood best friends to almost lovers, drama, hurt/comfort.

length ─── 10,019k words (part one)

warnings ─── mentions of hospitals, illnesses and death, some minor scenes depicting familial issues.

author's note ─── (heads up not edited whatsoever we die like newt.) damn. this has been brewing in my docs for exactly two years and i have rewritten it countless times and waz unsatisfied each time and couldn't finish it. im sort of very tired of it just sitting there, so here i am, posting this in a few installments so maybe i can get the motivation to finish depending on your reactions haha. make note that although the romance is still there, it's not as prevalent as the pure bond between the three protagonists. i have so many feelings bottled up in my wee lil heart for this fic because heather, jay and daniel are my babies and i love their bonds so much and i have so so much planned so yeah i hope y'all enjoyed what i have so far and we'll see. maybe you can read the second part next spring lolol. also heather and her thought processes are totally me lol

taglist no. one ─── @junityy @jeonqquk @leavethemonsteralive @iuwon @envirae @i-luvsang @rae-blogging @jitaros @jdyunvrs @kdyism @yourlocalhotgf @mark-lees-world @99outros @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @tyongishs @yutaalove @yangianwon @icywhatim @sunshine-skz @sooblvr @whoe-dis @injanggarden @90sni-ki @wccycc @sunfics @woo-minhee02 @yyxy27 @bigsobforskz @soobin-chois @jaysbestie @ni-kiii @jungwonerz @sunoosbestie @95sjcc @ja4hyvn @ant-ton-ya @stealanity @pshflrts @norifilms @shekllls @eternallyhyucks @yjwfav @luvningkai @youreverydayzebra @mosviqu @w3bqrl @candysofthours @moontines @rielleluvs @lebrookestore

reblogs and feedback are super appreciated y'all !!

“Hello! My name is Jeongseong Park, but you can call me Jay!” she blinked twice, clutching the hems of the older woman’s skirt. The short-statured younger boy leaned to its side, his head tilting curiously. “Is she shy?”

She chuckled, affectionately running her fingers through her daughter’s soft locks of light hair— well, lighter than his, at least. “She really isn’t most of the time, dear. Maybe she just doesn’t feel well right now.”

She held the chubby hands that tighten around the fabric on her waist, crouching down to the little girl’s height. Her frown seemed evident by the way her brows narrow, big and bright eyes hesitant on meeting her mother. “Come on, Heather. Don’t you think that it’s a little rude to not greet the young man?”

“I don’t want to.” She had a higher voice than Jay was used to, but that was only because he had been hanging around older people all the time, excluding the other boys his teacher had introduced him to in his new class last month. He took slight offense to that statement, however cool his outer kiddy demeanor covered it.

Without wasting a single moment, her mother beats him for a response. “You have to make friends, darling. Don’t you think he seems nice?” 

The unintentional innocence that radiates off her peer takes Heather off guard. He did seem nice enough with his doe-like eyes focused on the tropical mix capri sun, struggling to poke through the plastic with his thin, orange straw. He seemed like he liked to feed pigeons with his bread even if he himself was hungry.

She liked that— he didn’t look like those older kids who always drew on the walls behind school. Heather hated those third graders with a passion, but Jay seemed nice enough. He didn’t wear those black ripped jeans and shirts and he didn’t sport their messy hair. All of those kids did and they were mean towards even the teachers.

She wondered if their clothes and style were the problem, but maybe that would be a little shallow of her. Daniel always told her not to judge anyone by their face, body or clothes, so she would always trust his judgement and come to the conclusion that it wasn’t the clothes that made them seem rude.

Daniel was always right, he was probably the only person that told her that, though— he was the nicest person Heather knew of in her six years of life. He told her that she needed to be nice and accepting of everyone. He was older than her, almost ten years old. That was, in her mind, ancient enough to be considered as good as an adult like her mother and father.

She took in a deep breath, reluctantly letting the silk between her fingers go and came out into the open. “Fine,” she mutters underneath her breath. Daniel would be very proud of her, “My name’s Heather. I will be seven years old on the twenty-first of March. I hope we can be good friends.”

The young boy takes a look at her extended hand, thinking about how odd of an introduction this whole thing was. But he accepts the very formal shake of hand anyways, his smile lighting up the room within seconds. “I’ll be seven after you will, then! My birthday is in April.”

Nodding, she leaned back to inspect his attire. He had weird hair, she noticed. “You have weird hair.” Her mother gasped, “Little lady, that is not how you speak to people.” Though her mother reprimanded her, to which she took no caution to, she was a tad bit taken aback by the quiet snort that had escaped the odd boy’s lips just now.

“It’s okay, I hate it, too.” He did? “My dad thinks that all boys have to have this hair at least once in their life, so he made our hairdresser cut it this way. I like those hairs that they show on television, though! The ones where they cut it short until here and leave it long on top.”

Did he mean an undercut, Mrs. Brown scratched her head with wonder. She shook her head, accepting defeat and patted Heather’s shoulders. “I have to attend to my work, Heather, so why don’t you go off with Jay here and play with him a little bit until John’s father comes to pick you up for your music class later this afternoon?”

She didn't like John, nor did she like his father.

“But, I told you that I don’t like classical music. Do I still have to go?” She tugs at the hem of her mother’s crisp white blouse, an unhappy look etched onto her childish features. She supposed she didn’t look all that intimidating, but she liked to believe that she was either way, however intimidating her puffy cheeks and pigtails could be.

“Heather Brown, you will attend these classes for as long as we tell you to. You must grow up to be as refined as possible, understood? Don’t you think that it would be nice to be able to play the violin well? Look, even Jay here takes piano lessons! And I heard from his mother that he is an excellent student.” The six year-old gave the poor fellow a side glance, backtracking on her older thoughts for a moment.

Scratch that, maybe she did dislike him just a little bit now. 

Resigning to her fate, she pulled away, “Okay, I’ll do it for you.” With a satisfied nod, the older woman took her silent leave and Heather watched as the tall doors click closed, leaving her alone with her new acquaintance in a large hall surrounded by glass windows, the bright twelve p.m. sun peeking through the thin grey sun blockers.

“My mom tells me that it’s always good for you to wear sunscreen,” Jay took notice of the way she seemed stuck on the way the beams of light escaped through the cracks. He pulls his miniature version of a duffel bag out of the large cupboard from the back of the office, navigating his way through the leather seats surrounding the oval oak table to accommodate for large meetings.

“Do you want some? I was told that you have to apply it every two hours.” You stare at the uncapped orange bottle, a tiny bit— pea sized, if she had to give it a relatively accurate description of the amount— of the creamy substance already on the back of his palm. 

Why was their first conversation alone about the many effects of under-protection from the harmful rays of the sun, Heather never knew. Though he might have been a little odd, she supposed he wasn’t that bad of a kid. As far as she could see, he was just her mother’s husband’s friend’s son who had a knack for knowing the most random of knowledge that no six year old usually could know of— he also liked dancing, but she wasn’t about to tell him that she liked that small bit of fact.

Heather made her first friend the same age as her at seven years old. She didn’t like his haircut— and neither did he— but he was nice enough to let her draw stars on his cheeks with face paint on the first day he met her.

⟡

For her entire life, all Heather knew of were three things: she hated bullies, she hated music, and she hated the way Jay was having a growth spurt when she was stuck in the same height as before. She was ten years old now— mind you, she was older than him, however much a gap of a single month was worth— and she was now shorter than Jay Park.

“Are you not bored of always staying in this hole?” Heather whispered into his ear, mindful of her volume with all of the overbearing adults in the office. Although, to be fair, this ‘hole’ that she had been talking about was a 25 stories high corporal building made of expensive glass windows and tall ceilings adorned with chandeliers everywhere she looked if she craned her neck just a little— it was the furthest thing from being a mere hole that they had been stuck inside together for the past three years.

Jay nodded, “I asked my dad if we could just stay back at home, but he said no. He thinks that we will be in danger as soon as we are out of their direct sight, even if the staff are there to clean the house.” Being the only children of two business giants did come with its disadvantages, Heather could only cry in silence.

“Surely, they won’t notice if we go out to buy ice cream, right?” she nudged the pondering boy, urging him to respond. The mischief swimming inside those familiar brown eyes was an exciting thing to witness. 

He glanced at the busy adults, all gathered to sit around a table for a long discussion. “We can go to the store next block and then run back here, how about that?” Heather muttered in a low tone, almost too quiet for him to pick it up, but he did.

“Fine, but if they notice and get angry, you’re the one who is responsible, okay?” Jay took her little block of rosin from the intricately made coffee table, storing the object away in her violin case, carefully clasping the two sides shut together to pick it up— when he had grown into the habit of carrying the large black container for her, he didn’t know for sure, but she always left the instrument behind, so it was up to him to tuck the bow and violin away securely, lest Mrs. Brown reprimanded her daughter for protesting against her music lesson again.

Slinking out of the adults’ way was easy of a task, you only had to be quiet and tuck yourself away behind the walls and just keep on moving before someone actually decided to check the odd moving shadows behind the long blinds. What was difficult, however, was pulling off a maneuver like escaping through the front entrance where security guards were always planted.

“Are you ready?” Heather wrapped her arms around his shoulders, taking notice of how much wider they seemed to have gotten in the two years she had known him. She had stashed her case away in one of the empty offices on the fourth floor where all of the marketing workers were stationed.

The quiet stalking they had done from the twentieth floor all the way down to the first— all the while still going unnoticed by the hundreds of personnel frantically buzzing through the hallways like bees to their nests— had proven to be the most exhilarating part of this sneaking out ordeal.

She peeked a head through the small gap between the door and its frame, allowing Jay to slide a small head through the same gap as well— they looked like characters from cartoons, comically peering at something they shouldn't with heads stacked above each others’— only to speedily hide back inside the small closet filled with cleaning supplies after seeing her father’s secretary dashing their way with a phone held next to her ear.

Once they heard the click of her low heels fade away into silence, Heather turned the handle of the door to slide it open, gesturing at Jay to follow behind. “Look, Freddy is going away to get a drink now. Let’s make a run for it, quick.” Freddy, the tall and grand security personnel who looked similar to the Five Nights at Freddy’s animatronic bear that had given both of you a good amount of nightmares after deciding to play the game together during one of your many stays here in the company building.

Jay took a hold of her hand, fingers wrapped around her palm with a tight squeeze and they sprinted off towards the automatic sliding doors and bursting into the sunlight. A few onlookers took a brief glance at the two children panting as they rounded the corner of the building, hiding away in the comfort of the crowded sidewalks, the tall structure of the enterprise looming over their small bodies that sped through the roads of Washington D.C.

“That was wicked!” The taller one of the two eased them both into a jog, not noticing the fact that their hands were still intertwined, tightly wrapped around each other— neither did Heather, for that matter, too caught up in the adrenaline rushing through her veins.

The cars honking at the ones in front of them did not bother the children at all, not when they were tasting the first bite of freedom they had ever gained. It was a hot summer day and middle school was about to start in a few weeks— dreadful, they knew.

The sad, sob-worthy trek back towards the building was to be expected not even ten minutes after their grand escapade. They had forgotten to bring money to buy their ice creams.

But everything was okay, though. They might not have gotten their cold treats, but their way back inside had gone by as silently as their adventure outside had been. No one had noticed a single thing, save for the one staff member monitoring the security cameras.

Heather had just finished fourth grade when she broke the rules with her best friend for the first time— it felt good. Jay was taller than her now, sure, but she still could put him in a chokehold if she wanted to and that was all that really mattered.

⟡

“Daniel?” The older boy hummed, looking up from his extremely important job that was meticulously peeling bananas to make them smoothies. She settled herself on the tall leather bar stools to watch as the fifteen year old threw in a handful of frozen strawberries from the large freezer inside the sturdy blender with a splash of milk to add to the silky smooth texture of the cold drink.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” The solemn look on her face forced him to turn the machine off for a moment. He examined the way the edges of her eyes seemed to redden by the second, glazing over to signify the oncoming wave of salty tears. 

Yeonjun sighed, making his way to her side to cradle her in his arms, leaning her head against his chest to run his hands through her hair. He didn’t say anything even if he heard the muted sniffles or the thick in her voice.

"You know what 영원한 means?" She shook her head, "Well, flower, it means eternally— forever. I promise you— cross my heart and hope to die— that I will be with you until the end of time, okay?" 

Her mother was leaving, but at least Daniel was staying. She wouldn't know what to do if he left, too.

Daniel was funny. He was always the one that had pretended to be an ox to chase her around the empty complex when her father was glued to his chair in his office at the top floor and her mother was occupied by her endless meetings that she never understood what the need was for.

She knew him ever since she could think back in her memories, maybe he was secretly her brother. That would make a lot of sense, wouldn't it? Or better yet, maybe he was her dad— or her mom. He felt like one anyways, he was always the one that took care of her.

Eleven year old Heather knew that he couldn't be her parent, he was extremely young to be so, so maybe he was either her long lost brother— she didn't understand why her parents never told her, though. That is, if he was actually her older sibling hidden away— or an angel disguised as a fifteen year old middle schooler who liked to teach her to be nice to other kids.

Daniel was nice, he got that from his mother who was working as her own family's cook for the past ten years. Mrs. Choi was always smiling and she never scolded her whenever she snuck into the kitchen to steal all of the freshly baked cookies one by one. 

In all honesty, ten year old Heather really did think that she was the stealthiest living being while crawling her way towards the kitchen island. The woman had always managed to find her slipping away through the sliding doors with a half munched cookie in her hand, melted chocolate smeared all over her lips.

Why did she never get angry? She always gave her a small plate of them after wiping away at her messy face, she always had the kindest eyes as well. Why?

She supposed that was why Daniel was so patient. He was the nicest person Heather knew and she would forever stand by the fact that Daniel Choi would be the most perfect person in all of mankind.

He was nice.

Her mother was leaving, leaving her to her father— was he even her real father? Heather didn't think that she had a single ounce of similarity to him in herself. He had the yellowest hair she had ever seen. Even the pale kid from her old fourth grade didn't have hair as saturated as his.

Heather had smooth brown hair, she was a brunette, and yet he had the curliest of blond hair ever. Her mom, on the other hand, had the silkiest of rich black hair. How did biology work again? What if she wasn't related to any one of them? She had eyes that looked like her mother's milky coffee, very light brown— Mrs. Choi always said that her mother never knew what actual coffee tasted like, always mixing it with soy milk to the point where it was more of a coffee flavoured milk.

Her dad had blue eyes, they were pretty— not to say that her mother's dark eyes were not, but eleven year old Heather was just saying. What if she was adopted? She really needed to pay attention to her biology classes. The short quiz about how genes work was closing up on both Jay and her, but her best friend didn't have anything to worry about anyway.

He had always been smarter than her, but that was fine. She could always be the brawn of the duo— or the cutest one that got all of the attention of the adults to distract them while he slid out of the room to buy a pack of Mentos candy from the nearest vending machine— it was always ten stories below his father's office, but that was fine. Jay was fast— so that they could try to make a bottle of Coke explode out in the garden.

Her thoughts were muddled up yet again, mind running at incredible speeds, remaining unexhausted from hopping on one train to the other. Where was she again? 

Ah, yes, Heather wiped her tears away with the back of her sleeves, noting the way Daniel looked much older than before as he looked down at her with a concerned frown.

She wanted a cat.

“Danny?” 

“Yes, flower?”

“Do you think mother is leaving because she doesn’t like dad anymore?”

“I don’t know, flower. Maybe.”

“Will you ever decide to leave if you don’t like me anymore?”

“Never. I will die before that could ever happen.”

“Okay, Danny. I believe you.”

“Good. Now, let’s drink our smoothies before they get warm.”

⟡

“Blue?” Heather whispers, the vast ceilings of her dark room didn’t scare her like it used to— now that she had him, she didn’t think she would ever be afraid of the empty and lifeless room ever again. The baby dolls her mother had bought for her when she was five years old were still lined up on her window sills all across her walls. The moon wasn’t coming out of its hiding place tonight— it was a rarity these past few months, shrouding her room in the darkest of shadows. 

She wasn’t afraid of the dark, though. She had Jay, he would hold her hand and tell her funny stories that had happened during the day and he would lead her to sit on the velvet stool with him to play a little song for her on the grand piano that her father had made the staff set up. 

Thirteen year old Heather still despised classical music— she wondered why she hadn’t dropped out of her tutoring sessions yet with her mother not around anymore. Perhaps it was a sense of duty towards the older woman, the same way she kept the hideous dolls around. She still lingered around— the ghost of her had never left, she sort of hated it.

She hated a lot of things, Heather had long before accepted the fact that she was just a petty person in general, she hoped that Jay did as well. She abhorred the smell of watermelons, same as the taste of tomatoes and the sound of her violin when she played another piece composed by Sibelius or Paganini— why couldn’t she play whatever she wanted? Where was her freedom?

Strangely enough, though, perched on the cushions of the mahogany stool next to Jay, she didn’t hate the way his fingers softly stroked the keys to lull her to sleep with Berceuse in D flat major, Op. 57— or as they liked to call it, Bercy. For Heather, this was Jay in his core.

Park Jay had a beautiful heart— the sweet tone of the melody sounded different when he was the one playing— she loved listening to him. For an older Heather, one that was not a six year old brat anymore, music sounded nice when it was Jay the one playing for her. She liked music only when it was Jay playing for her.

“Yes, Heather?” There he was, calling her by her name again. Her mother always used to call her little lady, her father only used her korean name, 나봄 Nabeom— the only one to do so, oddly enough. Her teachers didn’t call her by her name either, were they scared of it? What reason would they have to call her dear? 

She didn’t have friends, though— she didn’t need them anyway, they were all terrible little liars— Jay was all she needed, all she ever wanted. Jay liked to call her by her name, just like Daniel often did, save for the few endearing terms he used— mostly about flowers, given her name, Heather, but she liked them all. Anything Daniel said to her, she liked them all.

“Heather? Did you want to tell me something?” He played with the thin bracelet wrapped delicately around her wrist, the one he had made for her when he was twelve— admittedly, not that long ago, but enough to wonder about why she hadn’t taken it off yet. The warmth of her hands was like a reminder of her existence to him.

Do angels exist? He didn’t know the answer to this question, not even after the countless visits to the enormous church, but maybe, it was lying right next to him all this time. Maybe angels did exist in the form of a lonely thirteen year old girl who had hugged him tightly after he had won first place in yet another competition— it was memorable for a reason, he had never been hugged for any of his achievements before, big or small.

A clap of thunder stripped her of the bravado she had guised herself behind, she felt her limbs frozen in place, unable to find a good emotional foothold to hide away from the next set of thunder booming behind her glass windows. 

Jay did not say anything else. Instead, he opted to let his closest friend find solace in the way they linked their arms together, pulling the covers over their heads akin to a comforting cocoon. This was enough for Heather— just her and him together, hiding from the stormy weather underneath her thick white blanket. This was all it took to calm his best friend down, to be there for her.

Just hold her hand.

⟡

Niccolo Paganini, her worst nemesis following the likes of Bach and Sibelius, was the sole reason for her months spent cooped up in her room, going over each one of his rigorous pieces with great care. Oh, how she would have liked to tear those stark white and black sheets with the most disgusted of scowls smeared on her face— right in front of her mother’s scrutiny, might she add.

The years and years of practice— as far back as her mind would allow her to remember— lead up to this one moment of battle between her and the devious fourth caprice in c minor she could barely fly over, never mind the twenty fourth. It was vomit worthy if you asked Heather herself.

Despise was the only word she had for the pieces given to her by her instructor. Why did she not give this up yet? Eleven years— nine of them by her mothers’ wishes, two more she had decided to continue on her own— she had spent cooped up either in a damn skyscraper or a closed off mansion to run through the counts by herself.

Why didn’t she just stop playing? Everyone knew how much she loathed her time playing her instrument. Was it to remember and keep a piece of her mother with her?Maybe, but she remembered that they didn’t even have the best of a parent-child relationship in the first place. Was it really because of her mother?

Jay.

Maybe the only reason she had not quit yet was her very own Jay. He always did play beautifully, coaxing her to join him if she so desired to. And how could she ever say no to him? Park Jay, she never knew how much of a hold he held on her, not even years later.

Indeed, maybe she didn’t quit yet just to keep an even ground with her childhood friend. Soon, she would leave her violin case behind forever.

⟡

Heather could not keep even grounds with her childhood friend anymore.

“Are you okay, miss?” A worker asked her with concern evident in his eyes. She blinked up at him, his form all but a blur going in and out of focus as she desperately tried to come to herself and shake the ringing out of her ears.

A few strands of her hair slipped out of her neat bun tied on top of her head. She tried to push herself back up on her feet, swaying as her knees buckled under her weight once again. The suited man from her father’s office stabilized her by her shoulders, leading her to one of the leather seats pushed against the crisp white wall.

“I’m okay, thank you.” Heather really was okay. It was probably just the fatigue growing on her after the hours of practice she had endured, or the fact that she had forgotten about her breakfast on the counter and lunchbox near her bag. She had to be okay, so she would continue believing that it was nothing, that everything was just fine.

He nodded, unconvinced but not prying any further, “If you say so. Be careful, okay?” 

So she would do just that, but alas, even with great care, fate would continue running at its own pace and it would forever continue to break and build lives. It had done it millions of times before and it would do it again and again.

“I can’t believe you keep tripping over nothing, honestly. Watch your own feet, Heather.” Jay ruffled her hair, effectively destroying her long minutes of hard work at putting her hair together that morning. He always liked to do that, she noticed. Jay liked to systematically mess with her hair and then tuck the strands back behind her ear at least once every single day.

Every day, huh. How many days had it been since they had first met? How old was she even? They had probably spent more years together than without each other being by their side, well over six years she’d say, maybe even eight. Funnily enough, she remembered his long hair as a child as if it was just yesterday.

“Watch your hands, Jay, or else I’ll be the one to keep them in check for you.” she deftly slapped his hands away from cupping her cheeks, puffing out her lips like a fish. He only sniggered at the irritated pout on her lips, “How scary, I’m running for my life.”

“Shut up, I’m older than you.” 

“Only by a few months at best. That’s not much. I’m way bigger than you, how about that?” His noticeably taller frame towered over her, if only by a few inches, but he still liked to take every opportunity to bring the difference up to her just to get her riled up time and time again.

It was somehow oddly cute.

“I will break your kneecaps, how about that?” her raised feet, ready to strike at any moment, made him take a cautious step back. “Only if you can catch me, but that’s hard because your legs are way too short to catch up to me, shorty.”

“That is it, Jay. You’re so dead.” Her roar of indignation did the trick to make him burst into a sprint for his life with an excited howl, heart beating in his throat. The sparkling floors make his brand new shoes squeak with every impact on the surface. “Catch me if you can, Heather!”

And without a single glance at the girl chasing him, he darted off into the hallways with various workers scattered throughout, all letting a noise of surprise out when they saw the boy bulldozing his way between them all, “Jay? Be careful!”

Unhearing of the words from the adults’ mouths for the time being, he dashed left into an open meeting office, countless wheeled armchairs set neatly next to each other around a heavy oval table. Heather ran straight inside, fearsome and glowing with determination to tackle him into the next galaxy, “Don’t think you can escape from me, Jay!”

⟡

“Sweet sixteen, Heather.” Jay brings the small cake closer towards her, urging her to make a wish and blow the sixteen individual candles away. He looked older now— he had shoulders that had grown wider by the day and his baby fat was slowly, but surely, melting away to reveal his strong jawline, his roundish features now prominent in their shape without the softness that came with being a child.

He had gotten rid of that god awful haircut as well, giving himself a brand new and welcome look— his undercut dreams had come true and Heather admitted that it suited him extremely well. He always did have that underlying promise of a handsome future, but now it was clearer than ever. Jay had the prettiest smile.

Much to her dismay, she hadn’t gotten around to beat his height, not when he was half a head taller than she already, or was it more than that? She didn’t know and ten years into their friendship, she didn’t really care anymore. The last time she had asked Daniel to measure their height was two years ago— the lines and dates lining up her door frame would gladly serve as proof of that.

Speaking of Daniel— she looked at the much older and much taller twenty year old across the room filled with just the three of them— he was still there. 

Daniel liked to sing, he loved it and he loved to stand in front of hundreds and thousands of people to just let his voice out and perform to his heart’s content. He was good at it as well, she was not envious of his gift, though— not in that way. She was never jealous of the amount of praises and compliments he would get from people all around the world that had come to watch his concerts.

Big people with big names that wanted to take him away to bigger places than the good old Washington D.C.

Heather was never jealous of the love he had always received, even as a young middle schooler. No, she was never ever green with envy— in hindsight, she would always tell others that she was probably the one person proudest of him next to Mrs. Choi. Would that— could that— ever change?

No, absolutely not. Heather still was a strong believer of the extent of Daniel Yeonjun Choi’s perfection. If anything, she was just downright petrified that one day, he would break his promise of five years that he would never leave her behind in this cold world. That new friend of his seemed all too eager to do so.

What was his name again? Ah, yes, Beomgyu Choi. He was a pretty guy— now, that she was jealous of. Daniel was pretty, too, wasn’t he? Pretty people deserved other pretty people. Was she willing to let him go just yet, though? Not a chance.

Maybe she would, maybe she could, she thought as she looked at the sixteen flames illuminating Jay’s pretty face. Why was everyone so pretty? 

“Come on, Heather. Blow it out or else the wax will drip all over the icing!” There it was, his signature whines that would never cease in her presence— which, technically, meant that he complained all day, all night. That was, if the term in her presence was taken literally.

“Happy birthday, flower. You’ve bloomed beautifully.” Jay let out a snort, a quiet ew right after. “Do you have to be so cheesy all the time?” 

The man playfully jumps on the younger one’s back, quick tempered with his siblings— they were not real ones, but the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, right?— pulling Jay in a chokehold.

Heather had learned that move from him years ago, not even Jay had been around at the time. Heather was five years old when Daniel had come up from behind her and put her head between his arm and torso, lightly giving it a squeeze. Enraged, she demanded he teach her how to do it. An hour later, mrs. Choi would enter the room to find her eldest son being choked out by a five year old little girl as he lay limp on the marble floors.

"Stop flailing around, I'm blowing it out now." The two separated themselves from each other, eagerly waiting for the dessert to be cut into slices for them to enjoy. Deliberately, she gave the older male a larger piece, finding joy in the way her two friends started bickering again over the unfairness of it all. She let them fight it out for a while before giving Jay a smaller second slice to even things out.

“You’re an adult, Daniel. I think it’s embarrassing for you to fight me like this.” Jay quipped from Heather’s bed, stuffing his face with the smooth icing. The girl eyed the cream in disgust, nibbling on the sponges cake instead. She’d never understand why bakeries preferred a seven to three ratio of cream to cake.

“I’m not technically an adult yet. I live with my mom.” Daniel retorted from his seated position on the carpet. Heather sat next to him as always, succumbing to the natural gravitational pull whenever the older male was around. She always felt the safest when next to him, then Jay, but she’d never tell him that. Who knows how he would react if he heard it from her own mouth that she liked him just as much as Daniel. He would never let her hear the end of it.

Sixteen year old Heather finally quit music. She cut it out of her life, the motion done as quickly and soundlessly as her mother had a few years ago, leaving her behind forever as she ran back to Korea. Heather wondered where she’d be in life right now if she didn’t have a Jay Park or Daniel Choi with her.

Lost, probably.

It’s March 21st, Heather turned sixteen at last, safe and sound with Daniel right next to her as she smiled at her best friend sitting on her bed in front of her.

⟡

The next morning, she made her way to wash her face, slowly slinking out of her soft bed and trying not to wake up the boy snoring next to her. She’d slid a pillow under his arm to replace her. Planting her feet on the floor, however, did not come to her as easily as before. Almost instantaneously, her knees buckled beneath her, knocking the breath out of her lungs as she groaned in pain after the impact on her palm registered. She’d reached out blindly, using her hand to brace her body.

“Heather?” The ruckus woke up an exhausted Jay, who still looked incomparably better than her even with an early morning puffy face. He smoothly kicked the blanket off of his body to help the newly turned sixteen year old back on the bed.

“Hey,” brushing away the few strands of hair that had escaped the braid Daniel had put it into the night before, he held her arm, concern etched all across his face, “Are you okay?”

“Damn it.” The brunet winced at the few tears that escaped Heather’s eyes, stomach dropping at her sniffles. She covered her face with her palm, the other clutching the fabric of her sweatpants. 

“This sucks.”

He tucked her in his chest, running his fingers through her hair and waiting till she calmed down from her abrupt meltdown. Looking at her tightened fist, he gathered her tighter in his arms, putting a warm hand over hers, slowly making her release her clothes. “You’re okay, don’t worry.”

Heather sniffled, trying to regain a steady breathing and pulling in deep breaths to soothe her hiccups. Jay kept smoothing a hand through her soft strands, patiently waiting. “I don’t know what came over me, I’m sorry.”

Jay shook his head, pressing a kiss on her temple, “Why apologize?” 

“I don’t know,” she sighed, wiping away the last drop of tear that slid down her cheek, “I just couldn’t hold it in. It didn’t even hurt. I guess I just felt disappointed.”

Jay hummed in understanding, bringing the pad of his thumb to swipe away the moisture around her eyes, “It can happen sometimes, I get it. Come, let’s wash up your face. You look prettier when you don’t have snot all over your face.”

The comment made her chuckle, giving his shoulder a friendly punch, “You don’t tell a girl that she’s ugly, especially when she’s crying her soul out. That’s super rude.”

“Am I supposed to lie, then?” Jay retorted, taking Heather gently by her arm and leading her carefully to the bathroom on the other side of the large space. Truthfully, Heather could never be ugly, not in his eyes at least. No matter how much he liked to tease her about the minor flaws in her appearance here and there, nothing ever seemed less than perfect in his eyes when it came to his closest friend.

Close to two years ago, Jay realized that Heather Brown was prettier than the angels his mother told him all about when he’d been younger. The purest beings, breathtaking and beautiful, those were traits Heather held as well. 

Even with eyes bloodshot, nose running a river and cheeks flushed from exertion, she was prettier than ever. 

“I think we should tell uncle about what happened.” He quipped from behind as Heather patted her face dry. He was leaning against the doorframe, frowning at something she couldn’t see on the floor.

“It’s getting too frequent. You literally fell over while doing nothing yesterday too.”

Heather stayed silent, assessing his words, “It’s getting worse, Heather. I’m just worried about you, your dad too.”

So many words were left unsaid, they both knew that, but with Heather’s insistence on keeping the progression of her disease a secret from her already busy father, Jay swallowed back his thoughts of concern and let her be.

For how long he’d let her live a life of lies, however, he didn’t know. Three years ago, their life had turned upside down with the few words of a man in a crisp white coat and this was the only way he could keep Heather Brown happy.

Just stay quiet, and let her be. He couldn’t possibly shoulder the heavy burden of being the one who insisted she stay locked inside a room surrounded by white walls, unwilling to be the one who ripped her away from her happiness. For now, he’d just let her be and do as she said.

⟡

Winter came quicker than expected that year, heavy clouds creeping over the lifeless buildings of Washington D.C.

Heather never expected her last Christmas break before she graduated high school to be spent cooped up inside a room that made her feel lonelier than her own one did whenever she was left to her own. The only thing accompanying her throughout her days was the large, framed picture of lilacs on the wall to her adjacent, the monotonous monitor to her side, a leather white couch next to the tall windows and the nurses who’d occasionally come and go.

Daniel Choi was busy these days, too. She hadn’t seen the older male in two weeks, quite the record for someone who’d talk to him face to face almost every few days. If not face to face, then at least on the phone where he’d tell her all about his day. He would always complain about something his friends had done, affectionately calling Beomgyu an annoying gum that was relentlessly stuck to him.

She heard that name a lot more often since the first time he’d introduced him to her almost a few years ago. Beomgyu this, Beomgyu that, Beomgyu here, Beomgyu there. It seemed like he lived and breathed by that name, not that Heather was jealous at all.

It was nice seeing Daniel befriend someone closer to his age. What was not nice was the fact that she felt like he was slowly drifting away. He wouldn’t pick up her calls when she missed his comforting voice, only answering hours later at times when even she wasn’t awake.

Daniel felt so far away, more so than he’d ever felt like.

What happened to her Daniel who’d nag her to eat her meals on time, scolding her for not drinking enough water? Where was he, the one who’d drive away all of her worries with a single smile, a lame joke? With a sinking feeling in her gut, Heather realized that Choi Beomgyu was stealing the most perfect human being in this world from her.

The thought brought a certain heaviness in her chest, the walls enclosing in on her. Her hands trembled, heart racing inside her ribs and her lungs felt like they weren’t getting enough air. Fear had her in a merciless clutch as she curled into a fetal position, cupping her hands over her ears, not even taking the presence of the nurse next to her in.

Daniel was leaving her and it was all Choi Beomgyu’s fault.

⟡

Nighttime crept over the sky, for once the moon reflecting light over those on the streets, illuminating the city in a soft glow. 

Heather felt better, good enough to wander down the halls of the large hospital in hopes of finding herself some entertainment, having already slept the day away. Energized for the night, she skipped down the empty corridors, careful to avoid any workers who might recognize the dreadful hospital clothing she’d been forced to put on when she first arrived last week.

“Snacks. I need snacks, lots and lots of them in fact.” She muttered at no one in particular, tracing an unending line on the wall as she went, taking a ninety degree turn to the right after confirming that her chances of getting caught were minimal. 

The automated machine stood proudly at the other corner of the corridor, as she found out after an unnecessarily lengthy trip around the quiet floor, lost in the maze while trying to follow a random blue line that led her to nowhere in particular, not that she knew of. Snickers or KitKat? She weighed her choices, fishing out a few coins out of her frankly quite shallow pocket.

And then she saw black.

Rubbing her forehead in defeat, she pushed herself up to sit on her knees, half having the mind to let out a string of less than pleasant cuss words as she massaged the area that throbbed. Her momentary blackout had led her to collapse right before the vending machine.

Heather pinched the bridge of her nose, reaching out to wipe away the small droplets of red with her sleeve. She hoped her nose didn’t look too bad for wear, “Great, just great.”

With a grunt, she made an effort to stretch her legs out to stand. That’s odd, wait, giving up on trying to hold a hand over her nose, she put out both arms and flexed, wondering why her legs didn’t seem to be functioning properly. I can’t feel anything, she tried reaching out to grab the handle of the sitting bank just an arm’s length away.

Her fingers strained as she clawed the air, hoping to get a grip on the metal bar. Tears of frustration welled up behind her eyelids while she dragged her limp feet with the help of her upper body, strength quickly dwindling as she had to handle all of her body weight. This cannot be happening, not now, she begged for a semblance of power to return to her muscles.

Please, a stray tear slid down her chin as anger rose within her. “Move already.” She slammed a closed fist over her incapacitated limbs. What a joke, cursed to a life of being a burden to everyone around her. “Just do as I say, why won’t you?”

Cursing, she harshly bit down on her lip, making a grand effort to slide her body and carry herself over to sit on the metal bench. Her heart pounded against her ribs, the adrenaline that had allowed her to will herself up slowly ebbing away. She laughed, a reaction forced out of her as she laughed and laughed.

She didn’t feel the traitorous tears trailing down the side of her face for the nth time that week, she didn’t recognize anyone’s voice as people started approaching her. Heather laughed at the injustice of it all, wondering what she had done wrong to go through and struggle with something most people did on a minutely basis. 

She laughed, bitter and tired of everything. 

Nurse Willows sat her on a wheelchair, a kind smile ever so present on her face despite the late hour and exhaustion probably wearing her down from the long day of hard work. “Come on, let’s get you back to your room.”

She liked Ms. Willows too, something about her giving her the same feeling of comfort that came with Mrs. Choi, Daniel’s mother and her cook. She had traces of age where her smile creased, but she still looked youthful, lively. She was just as kind as Mrs. Choi as well, she’d rejoiced at having someone nice to talk to when she would inevitably grow bored sitting around on her stiff bed. Heather barely saw her around after their first encounter, though.

Tonight was the second time she got to interact with Ms. Willows. Albeit the less than pleasant conditions, Heather fell back asleep on her way to her room as the older woman pushed her forward, pleased that it was Ms. Willows and not anybody else.

Tomorrow would be a better day, she hoped. It was Christmas after all.

⟡

Finding a snoring Jay next to her the next morning was the best thing that she could have ever asked for. 

He stirred in his sleep as she watched in awe, taking in his peaceful face like she always did. It had been months since she’d properly gotten to see him this close. She slowly smoothed over his cheek with the back of her fingers, barely hovering over his skin. Despite her best efforts at being subtle, his eyes fluttered awake anyways.

The sunlight was nowhere to be found at ten thirty-four am, right when Jay found himself staring into the eyes of his best friend. The room was dim with the only light coming from the hallway beneath her closed door. With what little brightness came in through the open blinds, shades of blue covering the sky behind the large glass panels, he took in her tired features.

Brown eyes never looked as good on him as they did on Heather Brown. Something about the way she looked at him felt like home, though to be fair, everything she did felt like home to him. There was no one in his life as clearly defined in who they were as Heather. His father, sure, along with his mother, but the person he’d wholeheartedly bellow the name of into the wind when asked who felt like home to him, was his one and only Heather, the girl peering right at him through the curtain of her lashes like he was her everything.

Like he was her everything.

And he was, to a certain extent. Heather thought back on the past ten entire years of her life, recounting the times Jay Park had proven time and time again that he’d always be the one person she could call her everything.

“You’re up.” Jay whispered, tracing small circles on her back with the hand he’d slung over her waist. He rejoiced in the way she fiddled in her position, feeling ticklish by his subtle pokes here and there where he knew she felt the most tickled by. Giggling at his onslaught, she quickly snatched his soft cheeks with her fingers and stretched the skin wide in an awkward grin.

Moving his cheeks around and bringing her hands together to make his lips puff out like a fish, she replied, “Who said you could invade my bed like this? It’s probably against the rules.”

Despite his hammering chest, he pulled her closer to himself, “It’s fine.” He could barely utter the few words through his squished face. “You wanna go out?”

Blinking, she strained her neck to spot the folded up wheelchair next to her small closet. Jay pushed himself to rest on his elbow, “It’s totally okay if you don’t feel like it, I just thought it’d be nice to see the snow.”

“It’s okay, let’s go. Help me up.” She stretched her arms forward, making a give me motion and pointed at the transport device she swallowed her pride and sat on with his help. “Push me as fast as you can.”

“We didn’t even notify the nurse or anything. You wait for like, a second, and I’ll be back in a minute.” After setting her down, he faced his body towards the door, rubbing the sleep quickly out of his eyes. He stopped when a hand pulled him back.

“Wait, why are you here anyways?”

“What do you mean?” The boy feigned innocence, half heartedly pulling his arm away from her loose grip. Heather steeled her expression, “I swear, Jay, if you pulled some funny business, then I’m sending you right back.”

It was at the beginning of year ten of school when Jay had decided he wanted to dance professionally. It was also in tenth grade that he’d finally convinced his father to let him audition, nearly spending the entire year coming up plans with her for the older man to finally cave in and let him quit the orchestra.

Heather had watched him dance for hours and hours on end, audition and then fail twice in a row before getting accepted into a small group. She had watched him pour his blood, sweat and tears throughout the past two years, every moment that would lead up to the big event not even a month away now.

There was no way he’d ditched going to the practice sessions just to take her out for something as mundane as a walk. “I’m actually gonna call uncle, Jay. I know how important the performance is, you shouldn’t be blowing off Sunghoon like that.”

“Chill,” He chuckled, flicking a finger over the bridge of her nose, “The regular meet up was postponed to tomorrow, because it’s a holiday and people have to be at home, exchange gifts and all of that jazz. The studio is closed for the day.”

“It better be.”

⟡

“I don’t have a gift for you.” Heather crossed her arms, looking at the small box resting on her lap. It wasn’t any bigger than the size of her palm, neatly wrapped with a white polka dotted paper, contrasting with the red background and glittering green ribbon tied around it in a typical festive fashion.

“I don’t need one.” He replied, sitting on the comfortable sofa across her as Heather fiddled with the small box. “Go on, open it.”

With great care, she unfolded the colorful wrap. “I’m gonna flip if it’s what I think it is.” She commented offhandedly, trying to cover up the glee seeping out of her voice. The velvet box felt familiar to touch, something she’d held in her hands once before, but never got around to bring it home with her.

“Oh, you bet it is.” Jay hopped off of the couch, flipping on the switch to her room. “I didn’t have the time to do anything special this year, but I know how obsessed you are with this, so yeah, sorry for the last minute surprise.”

“Want me to put it on for you?” Heather nodded at his offer, moving her hair to the side to allow him to clasp the dainty chain around her neck, the small pendant resting pretty on her décolleté. 

“There you go,” Jay stepped back to rake his eyes over her appearance, “You look very pretty.”

And indeed she was. Jay, for all of his life, prided himself in the fact that he had never once lied to anyone about anything. He wore his heart on his sleeves and kept his words simple and honest, truthful in everything he said or did. At times, his frank words hurt those who hadn’t heard what they wanted to from him, driving quite a few people away with the bluntness in his words. 

Everyone wanted to hear pretty white lies from him, turning their backs once they didn’t receive what they thought they would no matter how not unkind his delivery was. Honesty and sincerity, that’s what Jay prided himself in the most. Jay never lied, Heather knew that better than anyone else.

And so whenever he called her pretty, she felt like the most beautiful being in the world. If the words came from him, she’d take them to the bottom of her heart and encase it in a fragile glass container, cherishing it for a long, long time, because it was Jay’s words and Jay never lied.

For that night, she would truly feel beautiful, because he made her believe so.

⟡

July 21st only a couple of years ago, a summer day she remembered with every detail. Daniel had graduated high school just a little while ago and had decided to stay around, continue to make music on his own with his small group of friends, working small part time jobs in his other free time.

Heather had nothing to do that day with Jay away with his father on a trip and her own dad as busy with his business as always. It was Daniel who’d pulled her out of staying cooped up in her room all day. He’d dragged her out of her lonesome and taken her to a small ice cream shop next to the skatepark where kids mostly around her age usually hung out.

“You should try this mint chocolate one.” He’d begged her to try the minty flavored ice cream, to which she’d adamantly refused, knowing how he was aware that she hated it all the way to the depths of hell. Daniel could be annoying like that from time to time whenever he decided to shed his role of the ever loving, wise older brother.

“Suit yourself.” He’d replied with a sulk, typical Daniel fashion.

The heat rose from the asphalt, visible in the way it distorted the view of the park in front of the shop. She wondered if an egg would cook if she dropped it on the ground. It sure seemed like it was a possibility. Just like everything else however, she threw that thought behind, opting to enjoy the moment and her very delicious, very non-mint-chocolate ice cream.

The older male jumped right into step with her as they wandered out into the street, mindlessly wandering through the crowd of families and friends. He had an arm slung over her shoulder, chattering away about his plans for the next week. “You know what would be nice?” He piped up, nibbling on the cone in his right hand.

Heather didn’t reply, tilting her head to lock eyes with him as though she was questioning him. “What if we go on a little trip to the amusement park with Jay this Saturday? It’s been a while since we all went out together.”

She knew what he meant, the underlying message in between the lines. Still, she decided to ignore the unpleasant feeling, dropping her faux displeasure at him to contemplate on the suggestion. It had been a while since they’d had fun together, all three of them. “I’ll have to ask my father for permission, though.”

In a typical Daniel fashion, his lips curled into a lopsided smile, “If there’s anything I know about Mr. Brown after all these years, it’s that he won’t say no if I’m there to be your babysitter.”

“First of all, I don’t need a babysitter, much less someone like you.” Heather jeered at the older boy. “And secondly, remember that one time you almost let me drop from the fifty-first floor’s window when I was eight? And that one time you almost slipped down the wet stairs and dragged me down with you last year? I’d hardly consider you a capable sitter.”

She didn’t mention the time he’d gently held her while she mourned her mother’s departure, or when he’d patched her knees up when she’d fallen down from a tree branch while she and Jay were playing hide and seek at the park, or when Daniel had built them the biggest blanket fort the two younger ones had ever seen and have a movie night just because they’d both gotten great grades in their exam, or the time when he’d carried her on his shoulders because she couldn’t see the artist’s perform at the local music festival, or the time he’d trimmed her hair for her after she’d very unsuccessfully tried to give herself a new haircut.

She didn’t need to mention any of those instances where he’d been the angel taking care of her because he knew. Through her vulnerability with the boy she considered to be family, her constant little praises she liked to shower him with, her pulled back play-punches when he’d annoy her. Daniel knew that she saw him as the one that could do no real wrong, that he was her ever-loving and caring guardian.

Daniel knew, so when she said he wasn’t capable, he didn’t take the words to heart. He was so much more than just capable. Heather is an easy person for him to see through despite how others claimed the contrary.

Daniel knew that he was her everything, though it would be him in the end that would shatter her world.

© KOISHUA 2022, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

#enhypennetwork #enhypen x female reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen jay #enhypen angst #enhypen jay imagines #txt yeonjun #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #txt angst #txt fluff #enhypen fluff

[impossible-rat-babies]

oc-tober 2021 is finished! I know I kinda limped my way through this year (adjusting to working again will do that) but I did manage to finish for the fourth year in a row!

thanks y’all for letting me borrow your characters and drawing a whole lovely smattering of them! every year i wish i could draw more of them ;--;

who is who under the cut!

1. pollux bixby (mine) 2. levy graham -- @possumgeist 3. oren malloch -- @syrcus 4. rae jung -- @bitchesofostwick 5. ephyra “effie” metaxas -- @coldshrugs 6. pippa hawke -- @captaintiny 7. nemo ainsley -- @starrypawz 8. una moore-- @sidestepping 9. november “noa” caine -- @marshalortega

10. walter luna -- @danielsullivan 11. charlie -- @rickety-goose 12. riley owens -- @kittlesandbugs 13. silas king -- @waspgrave 14. theo west -- @ellstersmash 15. katerina irakleidis -- @rosewoodcasket 16. rabbit winslow-- mine 17. tammy newman -- @mybookswerealltome 18. faustus valentine -- @veeples

19. kindcaid anderson -- @attraeus 20. leigh bennett -- @th-ink-first 21. aimee lin -- @losingface 22. antoine duman -- @punkranger 23. jericho lee thompson -- mine 24. rue basri -- @spike-spiegel-is-jewish 25. enasali lavellan -- @jewishtabris 26. valerie kalesko -- @winterkeys 27. nathair chernobog -- @sysba

28. nyx shepard -- @full---ofstarlight 29. einar helguson-reed -- @nephaltis 30. akos -- @pearl-kite 31. river lee -- @sdorran

#myart #oc-tober 21 #im sorry for @ everyoen sdakfjjsad #thank you all again this was so much fun ;--; #i love. drawing oc's #but i am excited to get back to drawing whatever whenever sdfjsd #no offense but one month is enough for me lolol

[soulwillower]

i couldn’t be more in love • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

my tag list hasn’t been working recently so hit my line if it doesn't work this time

requested: i can't find all the requests but i got asked for a part 2 several times!

warnings: some alcohol, mentions of drug use, heavy drugs (cocaine, and a brief allusion to heroin use), sexual themes, references to sex, references and mentions of addiction, angst, but a nice ending, unedited haha

part 2 of i wanna see you but you’re not mine, also inspired by paris and so far (it’s alright) by the 1975 lolol

[title taken from i couldn’t be more in love by the 1975]

(losers + reader are mid-20s.)

2.7k words

♡

bitter air nips at your nose as you inhale deeply, white noise of traffic clogging the atmosphere as lights tinkle behind your peripheral vision. the smoke makes its way to your lungs and in the darkness of the night, a swirl of sooty regret that calms your veins and sets them on fire all the same.

"i have to say, it's hard not to take offense of you not inviting me out here." a voice in the solitude of the back of the bar makes you jump a slight bit, but you blink as if unaffected.

but holy hell is that not true. your fingers shake with the beat of your heart as you meet richie tozier's eyes, feigning a smile as you let out a cough of a laugh. "wasn't sure if you'd want a smoke." you lie, twisting on the cold of the brick wall you lay against to take another drag while taking him in. 

he’s devastatingly beautiful. 

richie's rolling his eyes, walking closer to you in his bright jacket, the pattern nearly making you dizzy. slender fingers slowly grab your wrist and you do nothing but watch limply as he slides one of your cigarettes from the carton and then your eyes follow all the way up to his cherry lips and you're lost in thoughts again - memories of last year when he'd kiss you with those very lips, when those lips would travel over the expanse of your body. a split second and you can’t stop yourself as you remember when those lips said i want you to be mine through a bright smile, and then you remember the heart shattering fall of those same lips when you'd said no.

you remember the last thing those lips said to you.

i’ll see you around, those lips had said. but it had been a lie - you knew it then and you know it now - because that was five months ago and tonight was the first night you'd talked to each other since.

not for lack of you trying, but after the third missed call and several weeks of richie happening to be dead asleep whenever you were over, you stopped trying.

"so, how you getting on with your life?" you ask as you take a sip of your beer that you'd set on the concrete. and then the dismissive answer from richie, an uncharacteristically short and bored, "its alright."

you blink. not good, not bad, not well, my band just released a tape, or the other night i tied eddie's shoe strings together and he fell on his ass. 

 just alright.

you spare a glance at richie, and as he's lighting the cigarette you realize that he's so much different than the last time you saw him - physically he's nearly the same, except for the nostril ring that glints in the streetlight of the alleyway behind the bar. but emotionally, he's... not here. at all.  

“you’ve changed." you say, as if it's a casual thing and not the only thought that you can force through your teeth. richie lifts a brow. "no i haven't."

it's short clipped, and so you look away, heart stinging. he's hurt. you huff, shaking your head as your shoe scuffs against the dirt. as you exhale the smoke, a puff of your breath spreads around you and the cold air presses in on your bones.  

"so you left town for a bit, did you?" he asks, clearly trying to be nice. your eyes catch his forearm as he rolls up his sleeves, and the prickled bruises that scatter them cause a wave of nausea to overtake you.holy shit, that was new. he doesn’t seem to notice as you take a shaky breath, eyes tearing away from his arm before you got sick. you guess he never really was that good at selling. couldn’t cut down. 

you wonder where the old richie is, the one who used to let everything bounce of his shoulder as he laughed, cracking jokes and flirting mercilessly with anything that moved. despite this, you just nod. "paris."

"and? did it just change your life?" he's muffing you up but you roll with it, knowing that if you lose yourself now then this conversation will be explosive. and bill was banking on you and richie getting along tonight, as he'd reminded you.

"i learned a lot," you say through another drag, eyes trying to find the stars among the dark midnight sky in the middle of the city. "it was beautiful, the school. and i never really missed here, i guess. my folks just thought i couldn't hack it. i wanted to prove them wrong."

"but here you are. guess you proved 'em right... not enough noise but too much racket, huh?" richie asks through a drag of his cigarette. you roll your eyes as you move to look up at him. "maybe you were right. you're still the same poetic asshole after all."

he seems to take humor in your words as he pulls a drag through a half-assed chuckle, shaking his head. "there are a lot of things i could say to that, doll. but i'm not going to."

and you want to punch yourself in the stomach as you feel butterflies echo in your chest from his pet name. 

"for who's sake?" you ask, and richie's eyes meet yours. his pupils are huge, the black almost swallowing the bright blue whole, and his stare is almost empty. your heart hurts.

he just watches you, eyes flicking from the cigarette between your lips to your eyes and back. "you better tell me about your paris trip quick, y/n, i'm almost through with my smoke." he says jokingly, waving his lit cig between his knuckles. the burning embers bright up his face, narrowing his high cheekbones in the dark light.

"giving me an ultimatum? god, i missed you." you say to him, the look he shoots back giving you chills. richie narrows his eyes, and you know you're both walking on thin ice, dancing around the fact that he fell in love with you and then you fell in love with him but despite that, it didn't work.

 why didn't he love you anymore? because as much as you deny it, you know you never stopped loving richie tozier. richie laughs, but it’s too sharp.

"that's a ridiculous joke coming from you. but i...need to piss. i'll be right back." he says, putting out his cig on the brick wall, but you sigh as you shake your head. he's turning to leave, but you catch his arm just in time. he looks at you expectantly, and your heart pangs.

he gestures impatiently, and you decide fine... if he's going to be this way, then you're not going to beat around the bush. 

"what, you're not even going to offer me a line?" you ask. the wool of his sweater is rough against your fingers and his arm twitches slightly. he looks at you, guilty and nearly...surprised.

did richie really think you hadn't ever noticed? didn't he know you noticed all those trips to the bathroom last year, at parties or in the middle of a group hangout, or when it was just the two of you, in between romps in his messy bed? did he think you hadn't noticed how many bloody noses he gets, the dented credit cards, the twitchy eyes. his racing heartbeat? didn't he know you noticed everything about him?

he gnaws his lip, "only have like half a bump left with me."

you tear up despite your resolve, and you shake your head, "you don't need it. can't you just enjoy my company?" you ask. the sudden shift in tone is nearly palpable as richie's breath catches in his throat, his adam's apple bobbing a bit. you don't let go of his arm.

you know you sound desperate, but then again you are. the need to be with richie is tearing you into pieces, and it has been for months. you know you made a mistake - you just want him to listen to you. you barely catch his lip quivering before he tilts his head back, sending a quick huff of a laugh to the tall roof that covers you, the cold air fogging his breath. "the problem is i enjoy it too much, y/n. you know that."

you look at richie, mouth slightly open. "richie..." you don't know what to say. your silence seems to push him further, “i know we're trying to be friends. but i don’t want to feel us at all. i want to be numb again.” he says desperately, eyes rimmed with red and unshed tears that threaten to fall. you feel like he's just plunged an ice cold knife into your heart. "it was easier when you were gone." he mumbles, hand rubbing his face, his curls falling over his hand.

"even when i was here it seemed like it was pretty easy for you to ignore me." you whisper, eyes watery.

"you know why i didn't answer your calls, y/n." he says, leaning against the wall. you sniff, a tear falling down your cheek and leaving a stinging cold on your face.

"i was angry at you. i know that that's not... i know it wasn't really justified, but i just couldn't stop thinking." he says, and you drop his arm so that you can wipe your tear trail. he continues with a shaky breath.

"you were doing better than i was, i saw it. i know you wanted to talk to me, but... it's like you could just decide to flip a switch with your feelings for me. do you know how scary it was to fall for that?"

his words leave you silent, and it dawns on you that when you thought you were protecting your year-long friendship with richie, you were really tearing it in two.

"i was so fucking mad, y/n/n. i was so hurt because i went and fell for you and i thought you fell too, but then you said i was just a good fuck -" a tear escapes his eye and his glasses are starting to fog up. you feel like you're moments away from sobbing. "-and then you told me it was better if i starting seeing other girls after i asked you to be my girlfriend. and i was sort of just left in the dust, because you would still tease and flirt with me, especially when we were with the others... and i didn't know how to act. i was so scared and confused." he's crying, now. his cheeks are pink, as is the tip of his nose; his eyes are watery and he keeps sniffing, wringing his hands as he keeps speaking. you're stunned.

"then i went and did what you wanted, because you seemed happy and if you were okay then, y'know, i could be too. and i was seeing other girls, but you went and got upset with me for it. and i was so fucking mad.”

he’s wiping a tear and you itch to brush the curls from his forehead, but you don’t dare move, as you don’t know what’s about to come out of his mouth next.

“because what about this fucking insane love that i have for you? these feelings? it was like you were flipping a switch whenever it was convenient for you, or when you were lonely. and i was so mad that you didn't love me the way i loved you... that’s how i felt, i guess. but what was i supposed to do? wh-what am i supposed to fucking do now? and now, if i don't force myself to be all annoyed with you, i don’t know what i'll do. because i couldn’t be more in love. i don’t know what to do."

you can only stare at him, your heart thumping so hard you have to steady yourself against the wall. what the hell do you even say to that?

you gently grab his hand. his palm shakes in yours, fingers long and cold as they fidget slightly. but he squeezes your hand and so you lay your other on top of his and you gather the courage to try and put into words the amount of love you have felt for a year. "chee..." you mumble, his breath catching slightly when you use the nickname you used to use back when you were sleeping together.

"i... i’ve known how badly i fucked up, but i still had no idea how much i hurt you. i know i lack enthusiasm and urgency with...whatever this is. this has been. but i still care. i want to make you happy, but this stupid idea that you and i being together may ruin our friend group made me blind. i hurt you so bad, because i'm selfish and can't keep myself away from you but i was afraid of how much i let you affect me. i've been running from happiness and i'm so sorry i've hurt you, richie."

it’s quiet as he processes what you’re saying, and you know it’s going to take a lot more than just this to fix what you have, but you just need to be near richie. you feel like you may explode if you dont show him how much you love him. he deserves more.  

"i believe you." he says, and he's almost sighing in defeat, and that hurts you even more. "i'm sorry too. i was an asshole."

you shake your head, your hand rising to cup his cheek, and your eyes meet. you see the blue, the size of his pupils seemed to have returned to normal and your lip quivers slightly, "please, i miss you. i don't want to fight anymore."

he shakes his head, mumbling, "me neither." before crashing into you, engulfing you with himself. his sweater is warm and rough against your cheek as you wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing like he might disappear. 

even while hugging he's still towering over you, keeled like a bear over you and making you nearly lean back as he pulls you to him. and when he says it this time, it's raw and whispered, honest against the white noise of the city.

"i love you."

you turn to crane your head up and your nose hits his jaw, the smell of his cologne mixing with the cigarette smoke residue. he turns to meet your eyes, and you smile against him, a tear leaking from your eye slowly. "i love you too, richie."

he kisses you, just as you tilt your head to him, and his lips are warmer than you remember. it's soft, salty and laced with your tears; but it tastes like a promise and you put your all into it, hand sneaking into his curls. “i don’t want to leave you tonight.” he whispers softly against you, his thumb rubbing your cheek in a way that has you melting. 

"please come back to mine." you whisper against his lips.

and then an hour minutes later after brushing tears from each other's cheeks, richie ditching his nearly-empty bag of powder in the bin, bidding good-bye with fleeting explanations to your friends, a closed bar tab, a seven minute cab ride to your apartment, and a deep conversation, richie's climbing with you into your bed.

when you wake up the next morning, richie's hair is full in a curly halo around his head, his bare back rising slowly in the early morning light. he's on his stomach, an arm loose around your waist and his face towards you. his breathing comes out in puffs through his red lips, the sight making your heart swell. the heavy dread you've felt the last six months is finally gone, not following over your head like a deadly haze. you feel like the light is finally back for the first time since you fucked it all royally. 

you kiss his forehead softly, and he stirs.

"promise you won't kill me in my sleep, y/l/n." he mutters as his eyelashes flutter, and you almost laugh as you whisper, "i forgot how much you snore. may just have to smother you with my pillow next time to get to sleep."

you're covered in warmth as he laughs tiredly at that, pulling you closer to him, kissing your bare neck and heaving a sigh with his body pressed against yours. you lay with a grin on your lips, feeling like those old, romanticized ideas of you and richie that you used to have in your head finally have some closure.

a glimpse of the boy you fell for is shining through, and you realize that no matter which richie it is, day or night, rain or shine....

you couldn't be more in love.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby @trashedfortozier @daughter-of-the-stars11 @oceandog13 @chl0bee  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @thegaytheatrekid @flowerceilin

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#richie tozier x reader #part 2! #losers x reader #losers club x reader

[miekasa]

I’m alive, I’ve been having a few rough weeks BAHAHAHA HELP but I have survived thank GOD. I’m here to bring some headcanons of mine I think that you’ll appreciate 😌💕 why do I feel like Eren is a shit cook? No offense to Eren, but also FULL OFFENSE cause I feel like he’d have one food or snack he likes to eat that’s so controversial, I’m not talking pineapple on pizza controversial I’m talking ketchup on macaroni level. I don’t know what food it would be, and I’m too afraid to ask. I don’t think ketchup on mac is on the same level as pineapple on pizza, cause I can totally understand that, it’s not my cup of tea but I get it. I just feel like Eren has mannerisms that are just “quirky” ig but you don’t question LOLOL he’s just like that. Don’t say shit about it cause he will get angry 😩😡 or at least whine about it the whole day about how people be judgmental these days 😔 but like it’s a foul good he probably eats, I’ll think of it soon. Stay tuned cause I am going to start leaving asks more often bb cause I love ya Mie😌💕

Levi animal crossing update (+ Eren): Levi managed to get the Sanrio pack for some FUCKING REASON and Eren literally cried at the checkout because he couldn’t (AKA me and Eren are in the same fucking boat cause I might have also shed a tear 😭) Levi actually didn’t buy it, but Erwin did 😔 my boy Erwin was PREPARED for that checkout and gifted Levi one because that’s what best buds do 😤💓 Eren fucking BEGGED Mikasa to let him borrow the cards (and she did) and now he’s back to normal. But during that period that he didn’t have those Sanrio characters Eren would not stop talking about it and Armin has had enough 😤😩 I feel like Jean and Armin might’ve honestly just gotten them to spite Eren because he’s been talking about the Sanrio drop for MONTHS since it was announced and they were both ready to SLAM Eren into the the nearest wall. Eren really wanted Keroppi and My Melody. He was ready to spend some serious cash even on the ebay scalper dickheads cause he just really wanted those characters :/ the Levi update is he continues to have a 100 star level island what can I say 🤷‍♀️ I know I basically talked about Eren this whole time but I’ll come up with some Levi hcs soon 😏 also I’ll be more active in sending hcs love 😩💕 I don’t say it as an obligation or because I feel forced, but because I do genuinely love writing these and sharing these with you Mie. Maybe I’ll do a face reveal soon 😏 jk jk I mean an account reveal but don’t wait up on it, I’m more active on your account Mie than my own LOLOLOLOL - 🔮 anon (sorry for the grammar errors in advance I’m like half asleep)

AHHH welcome back anon!! Don’t worry about being away, we missed you, but take all the time you need!! I love hearing your ideas, and I’m so happy you share them here, and I’m sure everyone who reads them agrees!! 

I agree on Eren and cooking 😭😭 he definitely needs his meals prepped for him by someone else, or he’ll just buy food every day, or eat boxed foods please. His regular diet consists of buying food 3 days of the week, Kraft mac and cheese 1 night, and then mooching off of Mikasa and Armin for the other 2 nights so that he survives please, ESPECIALLY if this is a college au. He’s at the dining hall every single day because he can barely make his own food bye. I think the one dish he can make from scratch and make decently well is like, probably some soup his mom used to make (but he associates it with her and being home and it makes him Weep sometimes so he doesn’t make it often, and also it takes 3 hours he doesn’t have); and spaghetti and meatballs! Other than that, he’s hopeless, it’s him and his Uber Eats pass against the world 😭

And I most definitely agree about his questionable food combinations/opinions 😭😭 I feel like most of his combinations are mostly because he’ll eat almost anything; and he’ll try anything at least once. So, even if it seems bizarre, he’s willing to try ketchup on macaroni just to say he did it 😭😭

LISTEN... Levi is that lucky mf who gets all the cool merch and updates and shit for any game he plays even if he’s not super into it!! It’s unfair, he doesn’t even like it like that, let the rest of it have it 🙄🙄 NOT ERWIN GETTING IT FOR HIM PLEASE THAT’S SUCH A GOOD HEADCANON 😭😭 the idea of Erwin being the one stalking a website with 3 credit cards in hand whenever he, Levi, or Hange are looking to buy an easily sold-out product PLEASE I LOVE THAT!! Erwin getting lucky against the bots, grabbing concert tickets before they’re sold out, being first in line at stores to get something they really want shutup that’s so cute I love that so much, I bet he looks so mf proud of himself afterwards omg

#🔮 anon #i really cant stop thinking about the erwin thing omfg #i also bet erwin is their designated Customer Service Complainer like if somethings going wrong #or someones giving them (by them i mostly mean hange) a hard time #erwin steps in with his politician voice to confront the salespeople and absolutely wrecks them #and i bet hange is just sticking out their tongue behind him when erwin finally gets what they want for them PLEASE #minicanons #eren.ask #levi.ask

[purge-that-urge-rhackathon]

Prompt 53 from the list; if you dont want to you dont but I'd love Vasquez saying it to Rhys just b4 Jack comes in and saves the day Afterwards sexytime Rhack is always great too ;D

This was like, the best goddamn prompt anon, both in terms of substance and ooey-gooey tropes BLESS YOU. Also, Vasquez doesn’t survive this one folks LOLOL Nothing too horrible happens to Rhys here; ya’ll know my content and I’m not ready to get into total non-con area juuuust yet xD You can check the tags on ao3 if worried tho ^___^

From this prompt list :)  53 was “Do you think you can keep quiet for me?” This labeled as The Executive Treatment. My masterlist archive of bullshit i write can be found linked at the top of the blog or here.  Also found on my ao3 here.  

–

“I know how much you’ve wanted this, Rhys.”

He didn’t want it, though. Maybe that was the whole point. And maybe Vasquez knew that, too.

The blackmail he had over Rhys could destroy him. And it’s what currently had him bound by the wrists over the bigger man’s wide desk in Hyperion-made tech with his pants around his ankles. He couldn’t back out even if he wanted to; both from the manacles and fear of a fate far worse than letting Vasquez do whatever he wanted to him.

“Y’know, men like us shouldn’t have to put up a front for what they want,” he continued on, not at all perturbed by Rhys’ silence or red-faced glares, and why should he be? He was fully clothed after all and not bent over a desk, after all. “You gotta just reach out and take it without shame. That’s what power really is, Rhys. I can appreciate the theater of it, of course; all bark and no bite,” Vasquez said as he stroked down Rhys’ lower back to caress the bare cheeks of his ass. “Never took you for the dramatic type. Though, I’ve gotta say, you’ve got bigger balls than I thought.”

Figuratively, of course, though it was courage bought from fear that had him bent over against his will. Rhys would never be here and never offering up his ass to his hated rival if not for the very real threat of a live-flaying. This was hardly about sex and everything about power. And Vasquez knew that, of course; peppering in reminders of why Rhys was here in case he thought to give Vasquez trouble.

“…Or is it just the circumstances that made you brave? Either way, I win.”

Rhys didn’t answer, and he was pretty sure the other man didn’t expect a response, either.

It didn’t stop him from bringing his hand down on Rhys’ ass, though, wrenching out a surprised yelp that echoed in the large office and brought further shame-red to Rhys’ face. Vasquez did it again, harder this time, that damn golden pinky cutting through the sting of the smack to almost make Rhys jump at the firmer pain as he bit his lip to stay quiet.

His legs he could’ve closed but for the foot Vasquez kicked them apart with, but he couldn’t move much more than that, prone over the desk with Vasquez’ other hand lazily pushing him down. The restraints were well-made by the company after all, and the hard steel didn’t even protest against Rhys’ cybernetic arm as he tried to curl in on himself even the smallest bit. He wondered if this would actually be worth his life, and if just the once would do it. Vasquez had implied that this was his price, after all, but there were no explicitly-stated terms between them; just the threat that the bearded man’s silence came at a high-price, and right now, that price would be paid or else.

“You’re being rude,” Vasquez’ deep voice almost sounded pouty, the hand coming to rest gently above one of Rhys’ asscheeks not lulling the bound man in the slightest. “It’s almost like you don’t want to be here…”

Rhys snorted and turned his head what little he could manage. It was enough to catch the smirk on Vasquez’s face, and the glint in his eye that said he thought he was far better than Rhys even now. Though Rhys was full of shame at the corporate secrets he’d passed along, he still had personal pride, and he was ready with a sarcastic response. “Shouldn’t you be used to this? I’m pretty sure this is the only way you ever get laid.”

Vasquez huffed, the pout on his face turning into a thinking frown. He glared down at the other man, but that confident gleam to his eye remained. “Well, if you don’t like it, Rhys, I can let Handsome Jack know he’s got a spy in his midst…” He chuckled at the genuinely-terrified gasp that Rhys let loose, and the easy smirk on Vasquez’ face came back. “How do you think Handsome Jack would feel to know his personal assistant has been feeding Maliwan information, hmmmm? I’m pretty sure that would be professional suicide. Or at least, that’s how they make it look. Or so I’ve heard.”

Rhys’ whole body went tense at the reminder of how much Vasquez actually knew. The files he’d accidentally sent to an incorrect echo frequency were enough by themselves for him to be airlocked. That the files had been intercepted by Maliwan, however, was a guaranteed painful death if Jack ever found out.

Yeah, Jack liked him as far as bosses liked their personal assistants, but the information had ultimately resulted in a lost negotiation for Hyperion– a direct correlation, Rhys knew, as Maliwan had contacted him to mockingly thank him for the heads’ up on what was to come, and expected continued insights if he didn’t want their CEO getting wind of it.

Jack was still irked by it, enough to mention it even months later, whenever the rival company came up in conversation. Maliwan’s price hadn’t been too steep, actually. Rhys was good with numbers and chose his losses carefully, and so far his paltry offerings of tidbits of information here and there had kept a sort of stalemate going for a miniscule advantage. He hadn’t wanted to get drawn in deeper, but by now he’d handed over multiple pieces of information and had no idea how to get himself out of this mess.

That it had to be Vasquez of all people who picked up on the fact only added insult to injury. Small mining deals he knew he could reassign Jack’s soldiers to enforce for him shouldn’t have taken much notice. And sending a few ‘bonus’ products in trade deals with weapons not yet released to the public gave Malian a heads-up, perhaps, but truly didn’t impact Hyperion’s bottom line. It was little, potentially-harmless things like that that he’d hoped no one would notice, but somehow, Vasquez had.

Rhys had been controlling the situation the best he could, and was managing a happy stalemate while he still tried to figure out his exit-strategy and hide what he’d been doing from Jack.

Vasquez though… As much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, Vasquez was not someone he could control. Not since he’d beaten the other man out of the very position he now held as Jack’s right hand man; something Vasquez had taken as a mortal offense and personal theft. After all, Jack was the most powerful man in the universe. It was a power that extended to those who worked directly under Jack, making them normally untouchable out of a fearful respect for the CEO.

And it was a power that Rhys was terrified of being turned against him. Maybe he hadn’t been thinking straight when he agreed to this little ‘meeting’, but the bluntly-stated proposition that Vasquez wanted Rhys crying on the end of his cock– or he could cry from the torture Jack would subject him to- had Rhys indignantly dropping his pants and leaning over the desk with as much furious poise as he could muster.

Vasquez demanded he submit to being bound for this exercise in humility; he knew what Hyperion cybernetics were capable of, and he wasn’t going to allow Rhys to fight him on this matter when he was balls-deep inside of him. Rhys would take exactly what Vasquez would give him until he was totally satisfied that Handsome Jack wouldn’t be needing any anonymous info packets the following morning.

“You know, Rhys, I’ve always been fond of your voice, but this office isn’t entirely sound-proof, I’m sure. Do you think you can keep quiet for me? Wouldn’t want anyone walking around at this hour to know why you’re here, would you?”

Rhys refused to dignify that with a response, his whole body tensed while he kept telling himself– begging himself- to relax. For his own good.

Vasquez ironically huffed at being ignored, and his hand came down across Rhys’ ass again, hard, and Rhys’ legs kicked out on reflex. He caught Vasquez across a shin as the bigger man cursed and stepped back, rubbing the area and muttering in pain.

The quick steps towards him told Rhys that Vasquez wouldn’t take that for the accident it was, and he backhanded him across the face. It made Rhys bite his own lip, his tongue immediately searching out the sting to soothe it. He tasted copper and tried to focus on that; remind himself that the alternative to this was being tortured before his body eventually gave out. This was nothing to being experimented on by R&D. Being a traitor was almost worse than embezzling from Handsome Jack himself; he could endure this to save himself from that.

“I was gonna go easy on you at first,” the bigger man said as he grabbed a handful of Rhys’ hair to look at him properly. They glared at one another with open hate. “Regardless of what you might think, I’m actually a considerate lover. But I Get the feeling you wouldn’t much appreciate that, would you?”

“Fuck you,” Rhys muttered pathetically, embarrassed at the strength of his own voice; the helplessness he was definitely feeling in both situation and action.

“That’s the whole point, but still, rude.” Vasquez dropped his hold on Rhys’ hair unexpectedly and Rhys dropped a bit faster than he’d have liked back to the cold of the desk. Vasquez’ hand found its way back to his lower back, and he kicked Rhys’ legs aside again so they were spread enough that he wouldn’t get inadvertently kicked.

Though he was still fully clothed, Vasquez grabbed the smaller man by his naked hips and ground himself against his ass, and Rhys valiantly stayed absolutely silent, not making a nose to the cloth erection being ground against him. Vasquez groaned appreciatively and cocked his head to try and look at Rhys’ face during this particular humiliation. “You know, I’m less inclined to share your secrets if you act a little more enthusiastic, Rhys.”

Rhys felt a lump form in his throat at the combination of fear and the indignity of what Vasquez wanted. As if being fucked by him wasn’t already bad enough, he wanted Rhys to show appreciation for being dry-humped? Rhys wasn’t sure he could pretend that, and he realized as his cybernetic arm tugged in vain on the metal holding his wrists to the desk, that it must’ve been a reinforced alloy of some kind and not steel. He was truly and utterly at Vasquez’ mercy, and furthermore, he had no guarantee that Vasquez wouldn’t just leave him here to go and report him even after he was done.

There were some muted sounds from outside the office doors as Vasquez was really working himself up against dry-humping Rhys’ ass, followed by a kick that was loud enough not to just be passing janitors. Vasquez was mid-stride to see what the hell that was when the locking mechanism was shot out, electric-sizzling and the smell of ozone in the air before the security system was totally disabled, and in strode Rhys’ savior and terror all wrapped up into one gun-toting CEO.

Rhys laid prone where he was, not moving and knowing any attempt at hiding himself was entirely in vain. Vasquez stood where he was halfway between the office doors and the desk, hard-on still protruding from the front of the pants he wore. Jack took one quick sweep of the situation he’d just walked into, lingering on Rhys’ terrified face a moment, and twirled his gun in his hand playfully.

“I have been calling and calling my hot little PA’s number for over an hour now and I just had to track down his comm and see what was so goddamn important he’d ignore me over. And I really gotta say– what’s happening here?- Not super impressed right now.”

“S-sir I can explain… Rhys-” Vasquez started expectantly, looking down at the half-clothed man forcibly bound to his desk with slapped-red asscheeks and his chin stained with a fine line of crimson from his bitten lip.

Rhys knew an opportunity when he saw it, and didn’t speak or come to Vasquez’ defense. Instead, he locked eyes with Jack– very aware of his own defeated body language- and the look in the CEO’s eyes made his heart speed up all the more. He looked away quickly, biting his lip and wincing as the movement made the cut there bleed anew.

Whatever Jack saw in Rhys’ own eyes had worked, because as Vasquez’ stuttered denials turned into pleading and bare accusations, there was a second shot of Jack’s gun, and a shocked inhalation followed by a muted thud some steps away from the desk where the bearded man had tried to quickly flee.

Jack whistled lowly, moving towards Vasquez as the man was in the throes of death, and quickly searched his pockets until he found what he was looking for. He left the still body as he approached the desk once more, and Rhys was still laying there, silent, barely registering the fact that Jack was uncharacteristically silent as well, and he was still strapped down.

Did Jack already know? Was this a coincidence? …were the dirty fantasies on the echonet fanboards actually true?

No, this wasn’t some fantasy. Jack had just killed Rhys’ longtime rival, and he himself had committed base corporate treason and was strapped down half naked at the mercy of the most powerful man in the universe. Any arousal he had at the idea was suddenly drowned in anxious fear.

Rhys felt his heart pounding in multiple areas; the side of his neck that Jack could break so easily; against the desk from within his chest that a bullet could easily pierce.

The rush of blood in his ears, and his vision going in and out, completely distracted from the older man’s approach, and only the smell of the gun discharge in his nostrils finally drew Rhys back enough to his senses to realize that Vasquez was most certainly dead on the floor, and he could very well be next.

Rhys turned his head dumbly towards Jack, dazed and confused and frozen with fear. The frown on Jack’s face wasn’t indicative of anything good. Rhys feared for his life.

“Y’know,” Jack said as he reached into his pocket and leaned against the desk, shooting Rhys’ ass a pointed look the younger man could see, “I’ve had an awful lot of fantasies that have started this way…”

Rhys found his voice, licking his split lip with a wince. “Jack I–” He was struck mute as the restraints binding him clicked with a mechanical whirr, and everything recessed back into the desk without a trace. Jack tossed the unlock mechanism back towards Vasquez’ body but otherwise stayed leaning on the desk right next to Rhys.

Rhys rose up just a little– slowly, as if to test how free he really was- and exhaled shakily as he curled his palms into fists, fighting his renewed fear of the man at his side. Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire. Just because he’d been freed from Vasquez did not mean he was safe. He was scared to lift himself further, but slowly, slowly stood.

“Buttercup… Not that I don’t think it’s kinky as fuck, but just what the hell do you mean by bending over for that asshole? Ever? I mean, I’m all about hate-sex, but Wallethead himself?”

Rhys could feel his heartbeat pick right back up into a terrified tatoo against his ribs. Could it be possible Jack didn’t know the things he’d done? Was there a way out of this? Jack didn’t suffer traitors easily. He’d seen people dropped down the hatch in Jack’s office for way less.

“Hey…” Jack’s voice turned serious. “Rhysie… Talk to me here, baby.”

If he could just play it cool long enough to get his ass off this space station, maybe he could disappear somewhere… Somewhere beyond the reach of the companies. Though that idea was hardly realistic, unless–

“Fuck. Hey, you freakin’ out in there or what?”

–he could fake his own death? He was good at programming… if he survived this encounter here, then maybe hacking security footage and using an O2 mask–

“Rhys.” Jack’s hands found their way to his shoulders, and Rhys’ eyes finally snapped to his own, widening a bit as if he just remembered where he was, who he was with, and that his pants were still around his ankles. Jack cupped the younger man’s cheek in his hand, stroking with his thumb as he studied the pallor on his face. He gave Rhys’ shoulder a reassuring squeeze with his other hand. “It’s okay, pumpkin. I was just teasing. What the hell did he do to you? I thought I got here in time but maybe I killed him too quickly now,” Jack said with a disappointed look at the still-warm body.

“I-I’m alright,” Rhys stuttered, lifting a shaking hand to Jack’s wrist and holding it there. He couldn’t help it; even terrified of what might be his last few moments, he still wanted Jack; craved the comfort he was offering. Rhys genuinely liked Jack, and they usually got along so well, too. Jack often complained after meetings that Rhys was the only one on this space station he could stand. It was only going to cut that much deeper when Jack found out.

It’s not like it was his choice to betray Hyperion, but he knew the CEO well enough by now to know it didn’t matter. But he wanted what few moments of comfort were given before the final shoe dropped, and relished in the warmth of Jack’s thumb stroking his cheek. “I’m okay.”

Jack huffed a little, lips twitching into an uncertain smile. “How’d he ever get you here, kiddo?” the older man asked with real concern, his question obviously referring to being trapped against a desk. “Why didn’t you call me on your echoeye? …that wasn’t consensual right, Rhysie?”

“He was blackmailing me,” Rhys stated simply, an answer to all Jack’s questions.

“Yeah, yeah I gathered that when he was calling you a traitor moments before I blew his brains out.” Rhys wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Jack correctly guessed the source of his distress. “This about that Maliwan shit, ain’t it, princess? Unless your sordid little life is more interesting than I ever thought.”

Rhys’ jaw dropped and all the blood fled his face. “How did you–”

“First of all, I’m all-knowing,” Jack bragged with a haughty smirk. “And second– you sent those messages from my desk that day, remember? When I took a nap on the couch?”

Rhys would remember that day for the rest of his life as it had ultimately gotten him in the exact situation he was in right now. It had been a Friday, and Jack had taken apart Rhys’ monitor as it kept having compatibility issues with his echoeye and the personal patches Jack had done to help him be more efficient.

Jack had had Rhys do his work from his desk while he customized the younger man’s workspace to better suit him, and Rhys had handled multiple communications that day. It had been in a moment of distraction at a lame ‘data-size’ joke Jack had made that Rhys had sent the detailed plans to the incorrect address, and had only noticed it the next day because that address had contacted him and told him exactly what he’d done and what he’d continue doing to buy their silence.

“We got lunch that day, remember? I sent you home early and I didn’t go back to the office until Monday morning. You left your mail open at my desk, buttercup. I’ve known what’s going on the whole time. You’ve been handling it like a pro, so I’ve only been keeping an eye on things from a distance.”

Rhys was close to hyperventilating, but Jack still stood there as nonchalant as he had, as Rhys tried to meet his eyes. “A-Are you going to kill me?”

“Hey, I saved you, if you don’t recall,” Jack grumbled with a dismissive look at the still-warm body. “Why would I kill you? For fucking that asshole? I mean, I won’t lie, I am jealous as hell, but talk about unne–”

“I never slept with Vasquez….” Rhys trailed off weakly, realizing how stupid he felt saying so as he was still standing there with his whole dick and balls out for anyone to see; though he didn’t want to draw further attention to that fact by pulling his pants back up. It wasn’t like Jack was looking anyways, though that might’ve been because the CEO was preoccupied with the obviously-spooked expression on the younger man’s face, and giving his shoulders reassuring squeezes.

Rhys looked up a moment from his pondering as his brain suddenly processed the fact that Jack said he was jealous over the idea of Vasquez fucking him…. Even with the idea Rhys thought he’d been selling Hyperion out.

The look Jack was giving him was somewhere between the pout the older man liked to pull when asking Rhys to cancel meetings for him, and the playful smirk he usually reserved for poking fun. He clearly wasn’t teasing right now with the way he occupied Rhys’ space. Rhys dumbly repeated his denial of involvement with Vasquez, any other words currently escaping him.

“Then what’s the problem?” Jack’s hands were gentle on him, but Rhys knew what the older man was capable of. Jack’s eyes kept jumping all about him, as if he could see what was making Rhys so cagey if he only looked hard enough.

“I don’t understand… Not that– Don’t take that to mean I want to die,” Rhys quickly got out, afraid to accept that he was possibly going to get out of this alive. “But why aren’t you, like, shooting me? You bring up that deal we lost all the time…”

“Seriously, kiddo? One, I’m brilliant, and that would be a huge waste. And yeah, I like to win so I’m still annoyed at those assholes thinking they won that time, but you’ve given me an opportunity I haven’t gotten anyone to pull in a long time.”

Rhys looked at him blankly, and Jack just smirked and gave him a gentle pat. “You’ve got those idiots to trust you. They think they’ve got you by the balls. Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you cherry-pick what intel to give them.” Jack grinned as if all the information and access Rhys had been giving to business rivals was somehow a good thing. The CEO rolled his eyes as Rhys clearly wasn’t getting it; as if anything about this conversation was normal. “What I’m saying here, princess, is that they know your information’s been good, and they know you haven’t compromised them by telling me. Otherwise ‘Big Bad Handsome Jack’ would have blown you out an airlock already.”

Rhys was still confused how any of this was good news, but Jack still didn’t seem upset with him. If anything, he seemed pleased. Rhys really wanted to pull his pants back up right now, but he didn’t want to break the spell of whatever this benevolent mood was.

He also didn’t want to have Jack let go of him to make such a movement, drawing strength from the hands on his shoulders.

“What I’m sayin’ is, you’ve opened up the perfect opportunity to sabotage them from the inside. Once I’m ready to give the word, we’re going to feed them bad intel and really take ‘em apart. Hoooo that almost gives me a stiffy, I can’t wait for those dickbags to realize what we did.” Jack chuckled to himself with a grin for the younger man.

“You’re… really okay with all of that?” Rhys asked seriously, watching Jack with a hanging hope as the older man smiled at him.

“Not only okay with it, but I want you to keep it up. If you have trouble deciding what info you wanna give those losers, we’ll make something up, okay? I’ve got enough money lying around to throw those idiots a bone if they still think you’re working for them. It’s an investment I’ll collect on when the iron is hot, or however that shit goes.”

It was strike when the iron is hot, Rhys knew, but didn’t want to give Jack any ideas about striking anything while he was still pantsless. “I seriously cannot believe you’re okay with this,” Rhys muttered with something of relieved shock. “The last person who sold company secrets got sent down to R&D, and they still haven’t come back.”

“Yeah, put ‘em in the hybrid breeding program or something, I don’t know. Anyways, pumpkin, even if that wasn’t the case, I still wouldn’t kill you. You are way too damn cute and that would put a huge damper in my chances of someday getting laid,” Jack said with a half-joking tone, though the look in his eyes smoldered a bit as he smiled in implication.

Rhys couldn’t believe things were going completely his way. Jack wanted to… to fuck him? Even after all of this? Jack found him attractive? Like, yeah, he wanted Jack, but who on Helios didn’t? That Jack was genuinely interested… Well.

“I’m just… I am so relieved you found out, actually,” Rhys laughed a little, unhinged at just how perfect everything had gone. His rival was dead, his attractive boss didn’t want to kill him, and apparently, all his jerk-off fantasies were going to come true if Jack was to be believed.

“What, kitten? You think I don’t keep regular tabs on anyone close to me?” Jack purred dangerously into his ear. “What’s that saying? ‘Keep your friends close but hop into bed with your enemies’?”

That made Rhys’ heart give a little fearful lurch, but he couldn’t help the snort it got out of him, either, as he decided he believed the older man. “I don’t think that’s the phrase, Jack,” he said softly with a little smile growing on his face as Jack grinned shamelessly. “And I’m hardly your enemy.”

“Hardly, huh?” the older man teased as he somewhat crowded against him in correctly reading the signals. “Heh, get it Rhysie? ‘Cuz your pants are down, and it’s making me hard.”

It had to be one of the stupidest things to have ever gotten a laugh out of Rhys, but he could blame that on the adrenaline still running through him, and the sheer relief that he wasn’t about to be murdered.

“There’s my little princess,” Jack said with a grin, boxing him in with hands on either side of the desk. Rhys was still chuckling, cheeks red, as Jack wasn’t through. “Or maybe I shouldn’t say little anymore, hm? …Grower, not a show-er, sweetheart? This guy finally getting in the game? What did it? The talk of screwing over Maliwan, or the part where Jack got to play the big hero?” he teased.

“It’s adrenaline,” Rhys discounted quickly with a smile, though he supposed Jack about had it right; who in their right mind would get a boner for their boss when moments before he thought said man would murder him? Let alone get aroused with a body in the room? He wasn’t even ashamed of it to be honest. Chalk it up to the thrill of still being alive. “And my dick size is– Why are we talking about that right now?” Rhys genuinely laughed, about ready to reach down and pull his pants over the semi he had going anyways, but loathe to break the proximity of Jack’s nearness.

Warm puffs of breath went over Rhys as Jack lightly chuckled and moved in just a tad closer; either teasing or testing, Rhys wasn’t sure, but the hand the younger man wrapped about the outside of Jack’s shoulder gave an encouraging squeeze, and Jack’s smile widened.

“You’ve got two choices here, buttercup,” the older man said with a smirk that did nothing to quell the plumping of Rhys’ cock, “And I’ll respect whatever you choose. We can cover that up,” he said with a quick glance down between them so Rhys knew his meaning, “cover that up,” he said with another look in the direction of Vasquez’ useless shell, “and you can go back to being the best damn PA I’ve had in a long, long line of unprofessional idiots, and I won’t press it any further, or,” Jack said with an edge of uncertainty Rhys wouldn’t have caught if he didn’t know the older man so well, “you can let me show you just how irreplaceable you are on a less than professional level, and how very much I don’t wanna kill ya. Whaddya say?”

Rhys’ heart rate picked right back up from where it had been finally calming, but this time he wasn’t afraid. The exact opposite, actually. “You mean–”

“I guess I did cockblock you, right?” Jack joked with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Technically, I mean,” he mocked a little, then smirked, emboldened by the squeeze Rhys’ hand gave his arm. “And here you are all… pantless with no dick-being-sucked. It’s a travesty is what I’m saying, kitten; dicks being out, left un-sucked. It’s un-Hyperion. Goes against everything my brand stands for.”

Rhys couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him, and it was a small movement to lean the top of his head on Jack’s shoulder, shaking with laughter and relief and holding tight to the older man to try to reign it in. Jack himself couldn’t have been more delighted by that, and Rhys could feel the smile against his skin as Jack turned and spoke, lips just barely kissing his jaw.

“Whaddya say, pumpkin? How would you like a little executive treatment, hmm?”

Jack’s lips pressed chastely against Rhys’ jaw as the younger man pressed into the gesture, and Rhys stood back up to smile, allowing Jack to take his chin in his hand and press their lips together. The action stung where he’d bit himself, and Jack licked his own lips as he pulled away, wrapping both large hands around Rhys’ hips and smirking expectantly.

“…Please?” Rhys asked, wanting the comfort, the ironic safety the older man represented, and everything else he had to offer.

Though he’d alluded to it already, Jack still surprised him by dropping to his knees in front of Rhys, hands on the younger man’s thighs as he came face to face with his cock, and wasted no time getting himself quite acquainted.

Rhys was learning a lot about himself today. Namely, that he probably wasn’t as good a person as he thought he was if he was able to get fully hard and enjoy one hell of a blowjob with a body in the room, but also that he’d been willing to go a great distance to protect his own interests– which he was a little proud of- and that his little crush on Jack, along with his hero-worship of the man, was definitely not going to change any time soon… even when potentially fearing for his life.

None of that mattered right now though, because as great and as varied the skills that Jack was rumored to have were, it didn’t prepare Rhys for the reality of the CEO on his knees completely taking him apart with his mouth alone.

That was okay though. He had a feeling that Jack was going to be there to put him back together again, too.

–

kofi | ao3

#rhack #borderlands fanfic #handsome jack #rhys the company man #tftbl #there's rhysquez if ya squint i guess? not NICE rhysquez tho LOLOL but goddamn i really love vasquez xD #i almost wish this was a rhysquez prompt because i was having a lot of fun xD Vasquez going to town on rhys' ass aaag THE THIRST #LOLOL i might continue this in the future when i have more time. I had a LOT of fun writing it anon :D #literally started it right after opening your ask yesterday morning hehehhe GOOD SHIT thank you!! :D

[hoodiehan]

Prince Charming - Han Jisung Imagine

Synopsis: You weren’t technically weren’t supposed to like Jisung, but something about his charms made you fall in love anyways.

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: JisungxReader

Word Count: 2.8k

Request: I was wondering if I could request a royal prince imagine with Jisung. Like you have a arranged marriage but he’s so nice that you can’t be mad at him bc he probably didn’t want the arrangement either, and he is so sweet and kinda flirty when they’re together that you dont know what to do and gets flustered a lot bc of how much he flirts

Stray Princes Series: Chan, Felix, Seungmin, Hyunjin, Woojin, Minho, Changbin, Jeongin 

A/N: I’m not gonna lie… I don’t really know how to flirt so this was kind of hard to write HAHAH Also, I sort of changed the plot a little but uuuuh I think we’ll be fine with that lolol But without further ado, I present to you, Prince Charming :’)

Flitting through the stacks of papers that rested upon your desk, you frowned as you came across a document. Reading the information that was contained in the paper, you let out a gasp. Surely the written document was too old to be enacted, yet you still felt enraged. Grabbing the flimsy piece of paper, you hastily made your way to your father’s studies. Throwing the doors open, you slapped the paper down onto his desk.

“What is the meaning of this?” You demanded. Your father took off his glasses and evaluated the paper.

“Ah, I see that you’ve found the treaty,” he said finally looking up at you.

“Yes, I have. And I don’t understand why this is such a thing!” You exclaimed throwing your hands up in the air.

“It’s such a thing because once upon a time, your great grandfather signed a treaty ensuring your hand in marriage to the prince of Alesia in order to unite the two kingdoms. If you aren’t married before you turn 19, then you are to be in an arranged marriage with Prince Han Jisung. And it just so happens to be that you are 19 years old tomorrow, which means that your time is up.”

You had heard quite a bit about Prince Jisung. He was the same age as you, but according to the other princesses, he was quite a flirt. All of your friends appeared to have had a crush on the boy at least once in their life. They gushed on and on about his charming looks, his devilish smile, and especially about how he had a way with words. All the princesses claimed to have fallen in love with him the second they met him. But you had yet to meet the prince, and you definitely were not planning on falling in love with him.

“But why am I just finding out about this treaty now? Why wasn’t I aware of this, say, three years ago?” You questioned, anger being heard in your voice. You were enraged that none of your advisors or parents had told you about this. “Han Jisung isn’t even the crown prince of his kingdom, and I’m to be queen once you retire from your position as king. Why should I marry someone who isn’t even of the same position?”

The king let out an exasperated sigh and tiredly pinched the bridge of his nose. “Y/n, dear. This is simply for the greater good of the kingdom. I understand that you aren’t fond of this idea, but frankly, you haven’t fallen in love with any man either. Had you found yourself a prince to love, then we simply could have avoided this situation.”

“Well had you told me about this treaty earlier, than I would have found myself a man to love!” Your voice was below a shout but it was still loud enough to command attention.

Your father’s eyes glowered as he did not approve of your tone of voice. “You will listen here; that treaty is to make sure that nothing happens when-”

The king was cut off when the study doors burst open, your mother making a grand entrance for herself as she sauntered in with a large grin on her face. “Well look here, my two favorite people in the world!” She sang. “What’s with all the frowns and commotion? I could hear you all the way from outside.”

“Mother, did you know that my betrothed is Prince Han?” You asked, your tiara almost falling off your head as you whipped around to face her.

“Oh yes! I’ve heard of such news,” the queen said, a smile still on her face. Your jaw fell open as apparently everyone already knew about this news, except you.

“And you didn’t think to tell me anything of it?” You exclaimed on the verge of tears.

The queen stood in her position, her eyes flitting across the room and between your father and where you stood, while chewing on her bottom lip before looking down at the floor and playing with her fingers. “Well to be quite honest, I knew that you weren’t going to approve of the marriage. And… I am quite fond of Prince Jisung.”

“What?” You exclaimed, along with your father who appeared to be shocked as well.

Your mother stood up straight, frightened at the sudden outburst. “He’s cute,” was all she said.

“The bakery boy, Felix Lee is cute too, but you aren’t arranging a marriage for him and I!” You proclaimed throwing your hands up in the air.

“Oh, he is quite attractive as well. He would do well for you,” your mother said smiling.

“I’m attractive too!” Your father blurted out from behind you. “But no! That is not the point. Y/N,” he said turning to point a direct finger at you. “You are courted to Han Jisung. Your wedding will be at the end of the month, and that is that.” With a wave of his hand, he dismissed you and your mother from his study.

Absolutely enraged, you retreated back to your room and refused to leave it for the rest of the day as a form of protest. Or as a form of a temper tantrum, but you were furious nonetheless.

The next day, your mother had awaken you to get ready for the end of the year ball. Your family was well known for the extravagant royal balls that were thrown throughout the year - but the ball that was the most popular was the one that was thrown at the end of the year. Many attended the balls in hopes of political interactions and for the hopes of allies to be made between kingdoms, but the majority of the attendees came for the dancing as well. When it came to the balls, you could care less about the politics aspect of it, which wasn’t the attitude that a crown princess should take. But you very much enjoyed dancing, and were looking forward to it.

Once you were done being prepped and primped, you practically ran through the palace towards the grand hall where the dance would be held. The event was already in full swing, and it didn’t take long for you to find a dance partner. Immediately, you began to dance the night away letting your feet take over and feel the rhythm of the music.

You were having a wonderful time dancing the night away, when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Excuse for intruding, but you wouldn’t mind if I stole Princess Y/N away, no?” A tall boy asked your current dance partner. Immediately, the boy you were dancing with shook his head and scampered away, while your new partner slid into his place. His hands automatically found their way to their designated positions; one hand holding yours, and the other placed gently on your hip. Shocked, you couldn’t find any reaction within yourself, but you let the new, obviously skilled stranger guide you through the dance.

“I am quite sorry for stealing you away from your dance partner, but I just thought that it would be nice to get to know my future bride before the day of the wedding,” he said casting a smile your way. Your eyes widened at the mention of the topic, surprised to see that your soon to be husband was right in front of you.

“You’re Prince Jisung?”

“The one and only,” he replied back. His handsome smile turned into a sly smirk as he took in your reaction. “You seem shocked, am I not what you expected?”

Shaking your head, you continued to let the prince lead you through the dance while trying to recompose yourself. “No, you are not what I had expected, but to be truthful, I don’t know what I was expecting.”

“If it makes it any better, you are not as I thought you would be either.”

“And why is that?” You quirked an eyebrow at his response.

“Well, I’ve heard many stories about the great Princess Y/N. But none of those stories told of how beautiful you actually appear to be in person,” the prince said winking at you. You blushed at his flirtatious comment. The rumors about the prince was right - between his smile and his charms, you could see how easy it was to fall for Jisung.

“I suppose that I could say the same for you. Although the rumors were right, you are quite a flirt,” you retaliated trying to play at his game.

“A flirt? Me? Why, I would never,” Jisung said, mocking offense. “I just can’t help resist your beauty.”

You almost laughed at his comment. You had only been acquainted with the prince for about five minutes, yet it seems as though he was thrown a thousand flirtatious remarks your way.

“Would you care to go for a walk?” Prince Jisung asked looking down at you. Reaching up, he carefully tucked away a strand piece of curled hair behind your ear before looking into your eyes. “I feel as though it’s becoming quite warm in here.”

You slowly nodded, unsure of what to say before Jisung grasped your hand and led you out of the ballroom towards the palace gardens. As the two of you exited the grand hall, your mother took sight of the two of you and excitedly clapped her hands.

“If all goes as planned, then I’ll become a grandmother soon!” The queen squealed excitedly, shaking the king’s arm.

Outside in the garden, the both of you walked in silence for a couple of minutes before Jisung broke it.

“Are you ready for this? The wedding?” He asked casting a glance your way.

You let out a small sigh before honestly replying. “At first, I was quite afraid to be wedded so soon. I had such short notice of the arranged marriage, but now that I’ve met you, I don’t believe that it will be such a terrible thing. You seem quite tolerable,” You teased, nudging the prince a little with your elbow.

Jisung let out a laugh as the two of you continued to through the garden that was decorated with flowers and trees. “I agree, I was quite shocked at the idea of the marriage at first. But you are quite the princess, and I believe that with time, this will work out better than we both had anticipated.”

You solemnly nodded before Jisung offered you a seat near a large water fountain. Turning to face you, he lifted his hand to fix the tiara that was placed on your small head. “It’s a little crooked,” he stated before letting his hand fall through your hair. He entwined his fingers in a small curl, gently playing with it while he focused on you - taking in your appearance that was illuminated by the palace lights in the background. You held in a breath, flustered and unsure of what to do. This prince was already playing with your heart, despite the fact that the two of you had met only a while ago.

Jisung let his hand fall down and brush against your bare shoulder, causing you to shiver as chills ran up your spine.

“Oh, are you cold?” He asked not realizing that it was actually his actions that had caused you to shudder.

“I’m fine-” but he dismissed whatever you were saying only to drape his warm blazer around you. Jisung stood up and neatly wrapped the jacket around your shoulders, making sure that you were warm. Your heart quivered at how close he was to you; his face was very much within intimate proximation. It didn’t take that much effort to see how beautiful his eyes were, or the natural blush that appeared on his face. Your eyes dropped down to his lips, admiring how red and full they looked even under the night sky. You leaned in a little closer, intrigued by Jisung. He was so close, yet so far away. But when Jisung’s bottom lip was taken under his upper teeth to be bitten, you shot your gaze back up to his eyes only to see that Jisung had been staring at you the entire time that you had been marveling at his facial features. He smirked, a tint of smugness hidden within his eyes when he saw how you had been looking at his lips.

“Anything interesting that you see?” He asked. You quickly backed away, embarrassed that you had been caught so blatantly staring at the prince.

“I, um. I’m sorry I just, I don’t really… Know what I was doing…” You trailed off, looking away from him feeling a blush was rise rapidly on your cheeks. Jisung sat back down next to you and placed a hand on your knee as he looked up at the night sky. Rather than continue to tease you, he began to bring up a new subject to converse about. Somewhere along the night, the two of you lost track of time. The music from the ballroom faded away along with the night as the two of you laughed, smiled and became lost in each other’s company.

By the time the two of you had realized what time it was, the grand ballroom had become quiet. The music was no longer playing in the background, and the only lights that illuminated the two of you were the stars that shined above. Realizing that it was quite late, Jisung walked you back to your suite in the palace to make sure that you got back safely. Standing in front of your room, you leaned against your door, with Jisung standing in front of you.

“I suppose that’s it for the night,” Jisung said shoving one hand into his pant pocket and reaching out his other hand to hold onto yours.  

“Indeed it is,” You sighed feeling quite disappointed that the two of you had to depart. “Thank you for a wonderful night.”

“Of course. It was only wonderful because of you though,” Prince Jisung stated. You blushed, yet again, dismissively waving a hand at him and shaking your head.

“I’ll send you off now. Thank you for spending the night with me, it was wonderful meeting you, Princess Y/N.” You smiled at the prince before you held in a breath as Jisung approached you. Leaning in, his beautiful eyes were in close distance with yours. Turning to the side, Jisung placed a small kiss on the side of your face causing your heart to jump as your eyes fluttered close, taking in the way his skin felt against yours. His lips lingered on your cheeks, and his breath fanned across your cheekbones before be pulled away.

“Until next time,” the prince said winking at you and taking slow steps away from you, still grasping your hand until the distance was too far for the two of you to be holding onto one another.

When Jisung turned down the end of the hall and was out of sight, you retired to your room. Your heart was still jumping from the interaction with the bold prince. You stayed up until later hours that night, unable to sleep. You were simply too excited for your next meeting with the prince. Perhaps the arranged marriage isn’t such a bad idea after all.

A/N: IT’S 2:18 AM. IM SO GLAD TO BE DONE WITH THIS. WOW THIS IMAGINE WENT A LOT BETTER THAN I EXPECTED AND IM REALLY HAPPY WITH ONE OF MY WRITINGS FOR ONCE.

GOODNIGHT. I LOVE YOU ALL.

I EDITED THIS BUT AT THE SAME TIME NOT REALLY BECAUSE YA KNOW IT’S 2 AM AND WHO KNOWS HOW GOOD EDITING JOBS ARE AT THIS HOUR.

Thank you for reading this! I hope that you enjoyed it! I still have so many requests to write about, and I still have some ideas of my own. So again, I apologize to those who have requested writings. They are on their way!!

Thank you!

-Maddy 💕

#stray kids #networkstraykids #straykidznet #straysunshinesnet #han jisung imagine #han jisung #lee felix #lee minho #yang jeongin #seo changbin #bang chan #kim woojin #kim seungmin #hwang hyunjin #imagine #imagines

[mysticdrabbles]

hi, could i get RFA/V/Saeran when they find out MC is jewish? maybe they come home and she's preparing for shabbat (sabbath) or something? recent antisemitism (*cough cough* the "are jews people" segment from CNN) has been really getting me down and making me nervous and i'm just so tired lol i'm sorry if you want me to elaborate on shabbat i totally can, i don't mind

Eyyyy guess who’s a year late to this T_T I hope every Jewish person reading this is having a wonderful day. (Also, I learned all I know about this stuff via Google so if I got anything wrong please, please feel free to correct me!)

Happy Hanukkah! ^^ 

Zen: 

The first time it comes up is about a month into your relationship.

Once you reach the point where you’re spending practically every day together because his day isn’t complete unless he gets to see your beautiful face~

(insert Zen wink emoji)

You’re a little nervous the first time he comes over on a Friday evening

Not that you’re ashamed of your religion, of course! It’s just that the news lately has you kind of worried that he might be… you don’t know, but you’re worried.

When he gets to your place after his rehearsal is over he finds you cooking.

“What’s the occasion, babe?”

“Just preparing for shabbat.”

The word sounds kind of  familiar but he can’t quite place what it is please don’t be offended by his ignorance.

You explain to him that it’s the Jewish day of rest.

He’s basically kicking himself now, because he knew that. 

(He played a Jewish character once, he can’t believe he forgot!)

He listens respectfully to the rest of your explanation 

And he’ll be as involved with this and other traditions as you feel comfortable with. 

He personally isn’t religious but he has nothing but respect for you and your religion.

His own ignorance has also made him realize that he doesn’t really see much of the Jewish faith in films and musicals?

Congrats, Zen is now an official advocate for proper Jewish representation in media!

If ever he’s in a play or film where a character is Jewish, he’ll run everything by you to make sure it’s both accurate and non-offensive.

And when a director refuses to change something after you explain that it’s a not only a false stereotype but a harmful one 

He quits the play on the spot.

His agent warns him that it’s not a good idea to get publicly involved in any kind of political argument, but he doesn’t care

“There’s nothing political about whether or not to be a decent human being and respect others.”

Yoosung:

When he cooks a meal for you, he doesn’t think to ask if you have any dietary restrictions, religious or otherwise.

And of course, tonight he decided to try a pork bulgogi recipe he found online.

Which is… sweet and all. 

But unfortunately, you have to explain to him that you’re Jewish, and you don’t eat pork.

He immediately regrets the oversight, 

He’s sorry he didn’t ask first.

Honestly, he didn’t even think to ask you about your religion.

He isn’t really religious himself and he just doesn’t think of this stuff most of the time?

Now that he knows he asks you a bunch of questions to make sure he doesn’t do or say anything wrong.

(boy’s sitting on his computer googling “how to not offend my Jewish s/o”)

He looks up Jewish recipes and practices them until they come out perfect.

He also makes a list of the foods that you don’t eat.

He’s sitting at his computer taking notes as though there’s gonna be a test or something.

It’s not just fear that makes him want to learn about your faith though. He also actually likes the religion?

Jewish religion and traditions all sound lovely? You sound like such great people? And he already knows you specifically are a great person, so that’s one point in their favour.

He’s absolutely terrified to meet your family.

Are they going to hate him because he’s not Jewish?

Should he convert? 

(You assure him that he doesn’t need to do that.)

He’s also super fast to jump on anyone who makes anti-semitic comments, both online and in real life.

Someone on LOLOL makes a gross, offensive comment and he gets his guild to literally destroy the guy

The jerk can’t go anywhere without Yoosung’s guildmates immediately killing him

Yoosung and his guild are savage and they do not tolerate this kind of hatred and disrespect.

Jaehee:

Jaehee has come in contact with all kinds of people from various parts of the world during her time working for Jumin.

So she respects all faiths and all cultures.

Your faith in particular  comes up one morning, when she hears you praying.

She asks what it is you were just reciting

(She waits until after you’re finished, of course. She would never interrupt you.)

You tell her that it’s a Jewish morning prayer.

Unlike the last two guys, Jaehee doesn’t need to ask many questions. As mentioned before, she’s met with other Jewish people before.

She doesn’t know everything, of course.

Just the basics.

And she’s more than willing to ask you about the details and things she’s not sure about. 

Not because she’s worried about messing up or getting anything wrong

She just wants to know more because your faith is a part of you, and she takes interest in every part of you and your life.

And despite her being Catholic and you being Jewish, there won’t be any conflict. She has nothing but respect for your religion.

She finds devotion to faith admirable regardless of what faith it is. 

Each of you follows your own traditions and beliefs and you respectfully support each other.

She’ll accompany you to the synagogue if you’d like, and she’ll invite you to her church as well though it’s certainly neither an expectation nor a requirement for you to go.

Basically she just… understands 

And engages in healthy communication whenever possible.

Because Jaehee is like a pro girlfriend.

Jumin:

Like Jaehee, Jumin has come across people of all cultures thanks to his work. 

He’s even been to Israel on a business trip before, so he knows a bit about what Judaism is.

Actually, Jumin finds it quite fascinating to learn about other cultures and beliefs. He loves meeting different kinds of people with different ways of life.

He honestly finds everything about your faith interesting

And you can bet he’s going to ask tons of questions.

He wants to know everything.

He wants to know about all of your traditions and ceremonies and symbols…

Everything.

He’s not trying to interrogate you, or be intrusive. 

He just wants to know, both because of his personal interest in other cultures and his personal interest in all things related to you.

He offers to hire you the best cooks he can find to prepare you meals for shabbat

But you tell him that you’d rather do it yourself because it’s more meaningful to you.

He nods thoughtfully

“I see.”

He then calls Jaehee to clear his schedule for the day so he can stay home and help you personally

He’s not the greatest help

Read: he can’t cook for shit and he somehow set the deep fryer on fire

But he can do menial tasks and keep you company while you work.

He just wants to be with you and be part of your life.

Of course, he can’t take a day off every week.

(Jaehee would die of stress)

But he tries to at least come home early enough to help if you need him.

He doesn’t interfere or anything, especially if you don’t want him to.

Mostly he just sits with Elizabeth the 3rd and watches you.

He also likes being present during the Kiddish, when you say prayers over wine.

(He likes anything that involves wine.)

His father might be a little concerned at first about him being in a serious relationship with you.

(He has nothing against Jewish people. He’s just worried there will be conflict since you’re Jewish and the Hans are Christians.)

But you win him over with your respectful attitude and your love for Jumin.

And if anyone else comments on Jumin Han having a Jewish significant other, Jumin is cold and savage.

(“How can you be dating someone who believes that?”

“You shouldn’t speak about others beliefs as absurd when you’re the one who has the ridiculous belief that I care at all what you think.”)

No one messes with his love and gets away unscathed.

Seven:

Literally the first thing he says to you when you tell him you’re Jewish is “that makes sense, I always thought you Israeli great.”

(*finger guns*)

There will be cheesy jokes whenever he can fit them in 

(When he finds you cooking in preparation for shabbat he comes up and kisses you. You ask why. He grins. “Just wanted you to know that I like you a latke!”)

And then there’s the sweater he buys for the holidays that features a menorah and the words “It’s Lit”.

But in all seriousness, he absolutely respects you and your beliefs.

I know it might not seem like it, since he’s so nonchalant and joke-y about his own religion sometimes

But he actually has a huge amount of respect for all religions.

Well, all religions that aren’t cults.

After all, he lived a pretty miserable, hopeless life before he found his religion. In a way, that church saved his life.

So he definitely understands how important religion can be to people.

And honestly, Saeyoung loves hearing about other religions and beliefs?

He thinks that every religion has valuable teachings. 

He’s not the type of person who’s going to argue the details of which religion got everything right. 

For him personally, identifying as Catholic is more a show of loyalty to the church that saved him as a kid. 

Not that he doesn’t believe in Catholic beliefs! He does, for sure. 

He just personally believes that it’s unlikely any one religion got every detail right.

(But he respects people who do believe in their religion 100% too! Again, his beliefs aren’t law. Maybe he’s right, maybe you’re right. He’s not going to argue about it.)

Also, can you speak any Hebrew? He’s not perfectly fluent but he’s decent and he always loves finding foreign language buddies. 

(And let’s be real he could become a master at it if he wanted to just give him like a week or so he really likes languages)

If you can’t speak much, maybe he could teach you if you want?

He’s also pretty excited to celebrate Hanukkah with you.

(He’s super excited because he was planning on building you something for Christmas but since Hanukkah has eight days that means that he can build you eight things!)

“Saeyoung, no.” “SAEYOUNG, YES!”

This is after checking with you that you wouldn’t be offended or uncomfortable if he does, of course.

If you don’t want him to participate at all he will politely and quietly sit on the sidelines until you’re finished with your prayers and ceremonies. He’ll follow whatever rules you chose to impose on him.

And as for antisemitic news stories…

Whenever a headline like that appears he hacks the tv station to change the words to say things like “New Study Finds that Jewish People Are 70.7% Cooler Than News Anchors”

Saeran:

Saeran walks in one day to see you putting out candles around the room.

“What are you doing?”

If it comes off as a bit snappy, it’s just because not knowing things makes him nervous sometimes. He’s not annoyed, he’s just confused and curious.

You explain to him that it’s shabbat tomorrow and you have to prepare.

He’s heard you say that you’re Jewish before but he doesn’t really know what it means other than the general fact that it’s a religion?

It’s never really come up in his incredibly sheltered life

And he hasn’t gotten an opportunity to ask you yet, until now.

You explain the concept of shabbat to him, and answer his occasional questions

(Things like ”What are the candles for?” and “Why Saturday?”)

Saeran is…

Wary about religion, to say the least.

Unlike his brother, he has no positive associations with religion. Definitely not enough positive associations to outweigh the negative ones he had with Mint Eye.

Don’t get me wrong, he heard nothing but nice things about it from Saeyoung when they were younger

But even that might have also caused a bit of jealousy-based resentment?

So organized gatherings of religion are a pretty hard no for him. The very idea of churches (or synagogues) scares him.

He’s sorry…

And… he’s not sure about big family get-togethers either. He doesn’t know if he’s ready for something like that yet. Or if he’ll ever be.

He’s sorry he’s sorry he’s sorry

He won’t stop you from doing anything, of course.

And he’ll help out around the house as much as he can with any cleaning and cooking.

And once he stops panicking at the thought of being surrounded by people considered “believers” again

(He knows it’s different, he’s sorry again)

He finds the whole thing… calming?

He sits quietly while you light candles and pray and just… soaks up the positive atmosphere.

As long as he’s not expected to participate in everything and you respect that he might not always be up for joining you for things

Then he’s perfectly fine with it.

V:

V has mostly positive memories of the holiday season.

And the negative ones he as are mostly only negative because they were the years he spent alone. 

The years that everyone he loved was too busy working to celebrate with him.

But for the most part, he associates Christmastime with good memories

Having a rare sit down dinner with his father

Sneaking out to exchange gifts with his mother (she would usually buy him art supplies, of course)

Attending mass with Jumin and his family

Exchanging gifts with Rika…

So of course he wants to share those positive memories and make new ones with you as well, no matter how new your relationship may be.

So he asks you what you usually do for Christmas

(Jihyun it’s October.)

(Yeah, but he has to start planning now if he wants to find you the best gift possible ^^;)

And he asks if you would be interested in celebrating it with him, maybe going to mass together?

(He’s slightly ignorant, yes, he grew up in a Christian neighborhood, he’s used to just being right with this assumption.)

You take this as a perfect opportunity to tell him that you’re Jewish

…oh. Oops.

He feels like he’s messed up or offended you.

That was never his intention, he swears.

Has Luciel invented a time machine yet because he could use one right now

The invitation to go to mass with him is still open, of course, and in return he could join you in attending your synagogue if you’d like. 

But if you’re not comfortable with that, that’s fine too! He can go to church with Jumin and meet up with you after.

He offers provide you with anything you need.

Ingredients for food, the nicest wines he has, the most ornate and beautiful menorah money can buy, literally name anything you want and it’s yours.

He’ll also buy you small gifts for each day of Hanukkah. 

A book he thinks you’ll like, a puzzle with a picture that reminded you him of you…

Nothing too big.

Until the last day of Hanukkah, when he hands you a large frame-shaped gift

As you’re opening it, he tells you that it’s the first major painting project he’s completed since becoming a professional photographer and trading his paints for a camera. 

“So bear in mind that I may be a little out of practice.”

(He’s nervous)

“Not to mention I technically specialize in landscapes and scenic paintings. I haven’t drawn something like this in a while, let alone painted one.”

(He’s so worried it’s not good enough, you want to open it faster just so you can assure him that it’s great, whatever it is.)

And boy is it great.

It’s a portrait of you lighting a candle on the menorah

And it is beautiful

The expression of pure peace on your face, your slight smile softened further by the gentle glow of the candlelight

The warmth that both your skin and your expression radiate

The reflection of the flame dancing in your eyes and making them sparkle

It’s incredible. 

He calls it “Faith”

Aside from the obvious reason, he says it’s because you restored his faith in both love and himself.

He’s actually debating making it his first public painted work, if that’s something you’d be comfortable with.

If not, then you can keep it and do what you like with it.

He just wanted to capture the feeling of happiness and… well, faith, that he sees in you when you practice any of your religious traditions. 

Because it’s beautiful.

And so are you.

Vanderwood:

Vanderwood isn’t really religious

But they also couldn’t care less about what other people believe 

(As long as it doesn’t hurt or otherwise negatively affect those around them, of course.)

So when they come home to find you lighting candles and praying they’re not really all that concerned?

(Well, their first thought is “where do we keep the fire extinguisher again?” but that’s mostly just an instinctive reaction to seeing fire after working with 707 for so long)

They listen to your explanation about shabbat because they respect you and therefore respect your beliefs

And they will absolutely make sure they don’t do anything that could offend you

(Not that they would say offensive things in the first place.

Mostly they’re worried they might misunderstand something or read false information.)

They actually kinda like the whole shabbat thing?

It’s nice to have something that’s a guaranteed fixed schedule. 

It makes them feel… stable.

In their old life patterns like that could be a weakness, since they make you predictable.

But now it comforts them to know that every Friday night and every Saturday they know  where to find you and what you’ll be doing

Oh, but there is one thing that they definitely need to discuss

They read that you’re not supposed to do certain chores on the day of shabbat.

Does that apply to them too? Is it rude if they do those things? What if they only do it when you’re not in the room?

They absolutely will refrain from all cleaning if you would find it disrespectful in any way

They’ll sit down with you and make a list of the things they are and aren’t supposed to do.

Even if you say you don’t mind if they do it as long as you don’t do them yourself, they’ll still try to get most of the cleaning out of the way on Friday night

And it becomes a weekly tradition for them to come over and help you by cleaning up while you’re preparing and cooking

(They’ll help with cooking too, especially if you’re not good at it. They’re not a chef or anything but they do know the basics.)

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#mystic messenger #jewish!MC #If I've gotten anything wrong or have offended anyone please let me know #i'm not religious so i'm a little worried i might say something wrong ^^;;; #mystic messenger headcanons #707 #luciel choi #yoosung #yoosung kim #jaehee #jaehee kang #zen #hyun ryu #jumin #jumin han #v #jihyun kim #saeyoung choi #saeran #saeran choi #vanderwood #mysterious headcanons

[daily-yoificrec]

7/11/17 recs

This is the 100th post on this blog, and I think that’s p neat. 

1. perfect ploys by pageleaf || Rated T, 3.6k (WIP)

"Why me?" Yuuri asks, for what feels like the thousandth time.

Also for the thousandth time, Viktor sighs, his chin propped up on one hand--the one not cuffed to the table. "What do you mean?"

Yuuri stares at him from behind thick glasses, wide-eyed and nervous. "You're Viktor Nikiforov."

(White Collar AU where FBI Agent Katsuki Yuuri is married to retired figure skater Phichit Chulanont, and international art thief Viktor Nikiforov charms his way into their home, and their hearts)

I!!! Really like this AU!!!!!! also there is polyamory visible in the endgame and I am HERE FOR THAT. I’m really curious to see how things play out, the plot looks really exciting already!!

2. The List of Big Rules by kafrickinboom || Rated E, 7.3k 

He’s over 250 years old. Old enough to have better control. Old enough to know better. Old enough to stop himself from marring that fair skin in the absolute best way possible, even if he wants it. He’d pulled his fangs out almost as soon as they pierced Yuuri’s skin, unable to meet his husband’s eyes and began apologizing profusely until Yuuri turned away from him, going to sleep. That still stings too.

...Or it could be the fact that he left for his trip without doing any of the frankly alarming amount of dishes he let pile up. Big Rule #4 is ‘Contribute to the House Chores.’ He isn’t sure. He’s just going to assume the level of bullshit he’s been dealing with is due to the biting thing. It just makes logical sense considering it’s the worse offense.

He had to make it right.

---

Or: Yuuri's pissed at Viktor, is a little shit, and punishes Viktor the only way he knows how - by being petty.

Au with vampire Victor and an established relationship which he’s accidentally fumbled a bit (and not for the reason he thinks). A fun read, with plenty of banter and Yuuri being petty af. Things work out in the end though, and the smut is worth all of the tribulations Victor goes through lolol.

3.  The Lily of Kasagiya by Kizuna_Auri || Rated E, 30.5k

Yuuri, following his love of beautiful things, would have gone to any lengths to become the finest geisha in the world. Then he met Victor Nikiforov.

A really good big bang fic! The mood of the fic is perfect in the way that I feel like I’m really there with Yuuri throughout his life, from the beginning to his stage as a maiko and later on as a geisha. The author definitely put research into this fic, and it shows — I’m normally incredibly leery of fics that use the geisha premise because of how poorly it can be portrayed, but this fic honestly sets you in Gion and makes evident the amount of training that geisha put into their practice. 

I just. I started this fic and was spellbound, like the author had somehow pulled me out of my bed and I was staring through Yuuri’s eyes instead of reading. Wonderfully written, incredibly recommend.

4. Shooken, Not Stirred by MariaMediaOverThere || Rated M, 2k

"I'm- I'll- I mean," Deep breaths, deep breaths. Don't look directly into the cute bartender's eyes- it's like looking at Medusa! He'll turn you rock solid!

Shit- wait. That's not... "I'd like a-"

Seung-Gil frantically reads from the menu pinned underneath his elbow.

"-blowjob."

Who doesn’t love one of the characters being a fucking dork. Short and sweet seungchuchu fic which his awkwardness is more evident than his stiffness, a great laugh. 

5. a lesson in opening up by postingpebbles || Rated T, 9.4k

How does one react when your cute (read: very, very cute) neighbor knocks on your apartment door and asks to use your shower to prepare for his date tonight?

Why, you let him in, of course.

(And proceed to panic for the next few hours because you've just let in the person that you've been crushing on for the past six months into your home, and you can't stop blushing around him.)

Or: In which Yuuri is a shy artist in love, Victor is his very smitten neighbor, and there is much more time spent out of the shower than in it.

!!!! Cute!!!!!!! A premise I haven’t seen before, really good chemistry, and just really fluffy and sweet. My heart feels full. I might have cavities now.

#yuri on ice #yoi #fic rec #fanfiction #victuuri #seungchuchu #alternate occupations #historical au #supernatural