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#why won't you appreciate what you've been given
ddejavvu · 10 months
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this is cheesy but when spencer and reader start getting more comfortable in their relationship and they exchange keys to each others places, reader starts going over while hes away. just to chill because she misses him or borrow something or get something she left. but then dhe notices his apartment is a little messy and he doesnt have a lot of food in the fridge.
the first time he comes home to a full fridge and clean apartment he's a little confused, but when he brings it up and she confesses hes just sooooo touched and appreciative.
the first time he comes home and shes asleep on the bed or couch or wherever he just MELTS. like an actual puddle on the floor kinda melting bc hes just so overwhelmed with love 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
Spencer Reid is, quite possibly, the smartest motherfucker in the FBI. As an esteemed profiler, he notices right away that you've been in his apartment, from the post-it note grocery list sitting on the top of what's in his trash can, and a lack of dust over his kitchen counter like there typically is after he's gone on a case for a few days.
He spots 'donuts' on the list, and when he pulls the fridge open, lo and behold, there's a bag of mini chocolate donuts on the top shelf. He smiles to himself, giddily so, more than elated that you'd remembered an offhanded comment he'd made about liking them so much, especially when they're chilled.
He remembers everything anyone tells him, but people rarely stop to listen to his own words. So often it can be cast aside as nerd babble, so knowing that you'd picked up on the small tidbits of personal information he'd given you makes his seldom-fluttering heart do just that.
He feels a little bad that you'd stocked his fridge and ran, but he doesn't have to for long, because when he heads to the living room to drop his messenger bag there, and restock it with a different book, you're snoozing in his chair.
It's a recliner, one he'd splurged on so that late-night reading would be more comfortable. You've popped the footrest up, but your feet barely touch it, because you're curled up closer to the seat. Your head rests on one of the arms and is dangerously close to slipping off, so he kneels by the armrest, joints cracking.
His face hovers millimeters away from your own, your breath hitting his cheek and vice versa. He smooths a stray wisp of hair away from your face, leaning in to kiss the skin it had been covering.
"Hi, angel," He croons, keeping his voice as soft as humanly possible. He doesn't want to ruin this, whatever heavenly moment that the seldom-kind universe has decided to grant him.
Your lashes flutter at the feel of his lips on your skin, and you turn your face to lean into the touch you don't yet know is there. He can't help but laugh at the way you arch like a cat to be closer to him, and the breathy huffs fan out against your forehead.
His slender hand comes up to hover beneath your head, because when you worm closer to him, it slips off of the armrest. He holds your head up but you're finally starting to stir from the movement, and you lift it to blink groggily up at him.
"Spence?" You ask, like you're verifying his identity and not asking why he's home.
"That's me," He smiles, dimples puncturing his cheeks. His hair is slightly sloppy, frizzed and out of place from the day's hectic activities. At his confirmation you hum sleepily, resuming your cat-like activities by shutting your eyes again, leading with your nose as you nudge your face into his own. From the angle you're at his lips can only pucker to hit an awkward spot between your cheek and your nose, but the skin there is warm and soft from a facial mask he knows you used last night.
"Morning," You grumble, and he won't inform you that it's 7 at night.
"Hi, sweetheart." He croons, unable to stand up straight before you decide you want a hug. It means his butt hits the floor when you lunge for him, and he laughs as he tries maintaining an upright position.
"Oh- ah!" He laughs, eyes scrunching in a gleeful smile-turned-laugh when you knock into him. He cradles the back of your head, feeling you settle into his embrace like he's your new reclining chair.
"'Missed you, Spence." You mumble against the fabric of his jacket that's covering his shoulder. He curls his fingers into your hair at your admission, stroking briefly through the strands.
"I missed you too," He agrees, "I saw you bought me donuts."
"Hm? Oh, yeah, I did." You recall, eyes already drooping again, "We can have some for- for dessert later."
"That sounds like a good plan," Spencer grins, but you can't see it where you're nestled into his shoulder. He's waiting for you to get up, not because he doesn't want to hug you anymore but because he wants to stand and move, but when you stay firmly in place he realizes you're sleeping again, and that there's no way he's getting off the floor in the meantime.
He could wake you, tell you it's time for a late dinner and ask you to work on the eggs so that he can chop up the add-ins for an omelet. He could corral you back into the chair and take the bed for himself, read for a bit after getting changed. He could do any number of things to make himself just a bit more comfortable, but instead he chooses to commit his butt to the floor, surely flattening it for all eternity. He scoots back carefully until his back is up against the couch, so that his less-than-perfect core strength isn't relied upon as much.
From there he rests, disinterested in using his phone and too far away from his bookshelf to read. But he finds just as much meaningful entertainment in counting the breaths that you release against his shoulder, as well as counting the different possessions of yours he can see scattered around his apartment.
Your shoes, one. Your water bottle, two. Your sweatshirt, three. Your snack, four. Your keys, perhaps the most meaningful possession of all, the spare that he'll never regret giving you, five.
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Of All Things, I Became an Aranara
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You always imagined that if you woke up in the world of Genshin, the possibilities of being a Visionless wielder of elements and a slew of romantic shenanigans would lie in your wake. But when you instead find yourself in the body of an Aranara with romance likely out of the question, your only conclusion is that the gods of reincarnation isekai hate your guts.
cw. you're an aranara
pairing. scaramouche/wanderer x reader, cyno x reader, kaveh x reader, candace x reader (separate)
notes. don't feel like being an aranara today? well go ahead and go to the series masterlist and see what your life could be if you were something else in genshin.
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While you would have preferred being human, you have to admit there are few things better than turning into an Aranara. You've most assuredly been given Genshin non-humanoid pretty privilege with beautiful powers concerning plants and dreams to boot.
An even bigger benefit is that you can talk, so communicating with humans in this world will be a cinch.
The only thing you can really complain about now is that you aren't really able to handle salt and spices the way you used to. But to be honest, if that's the only thing you have to complain about, you'll gladly settle with being one of the musically-inclined leaf children of the rainforest.
All of whom are your friends despite the predicament you've found yourself in. You may have technically lost the isekai 50/50 but you feel like you've won in a lot of ways too.
Scaramouche
Ironically enough he was one of the easiest individuals on the list to befriend. Why? You met him when his memories were completely reset to zero and he had a much more sweet and calm demeanor
Considering the sharp-tongue Scaramouche you're used to, it honestly gave you whiplash
Still, you couldn't bring yourself to leave the guy, bright eyed and full of wonder. It was the constant abandonments and perceived abandonments that turned Scara into the person he came
You accompany him when he regains his memories, after which he assumes that now you know the extent of his true character and the things he's done that you'll leave him now. he even encourages you to do so, shooing you away
you plopping your small self across his shoulder and telling him he's your best friend means a lot to him, even if he tells you in response that you're an idiot but you can do as you wish
Before and after regaining his memories, Scara is very clingy. Before regaining them, he slept with you nestled to his chest much like a child would a teddy bear. Afterwards, he considers it too soft and embarrassing to do so but if you snuggle up against him well, he won't stop you
Once you got lost while exploring and when you didn't come back within the time he expected you to, he grew quite panicked and nearly turned the entire forest upside down trying to find you
When he did, you were promptly scolded for making him have to look for you. What's the matter with you? Don't go traveling somewhere unfamiliar or you'll just make him have to waste time backtracking to look for you
(He was scared that you had gotten eaten or hurt or worse, that you decided to no longer travel with him, leaving him to be alone all over again)
Whenever he has nightmares, you turn his dreams into ones much happier. He tells you to stay out of his head but he appreciates the fanciful worlds you craft for him
You're also quite handy when he needs to avoid his new fanbase from the Akademiya. Taking him to the dream world to avoid talking to people is quite a useful trick of yours
But as it turns out, Scaramouche is quite popular with the Aranara and they all love to indulge him. So you kinda have some competition
You can't believe you're actually getting jealous of Aranaras. Wow, how the mighty have fallen
Cyno
A son of the desert who grew up in the rainforest, Cyno heard of stories regarding the Aranara but he never thought they'd be real. But as far as he is concerned, you're as much a citizen of Sumeru as he is
So Cyno quickly rolls with the punches and treats you accordingly with respect. Talk about a win!
But as far as you being a travel companion? Cyno isn't entirely sure since his work concerns apprehending wayward scholars and their affiliates. It's dangerous, so unless you can prove yourself to be sturdy enough to protect yourself, he'll tell discourage you from following him
Of course, he can't rightly force a creature of Dendro and dreams from doing that anyway if you stubbornly continue on with him
Thankfully, you can set his worries aside when you show not only are you adorable, but resourceful, using your powers of Dendro to apprehend criminals attempting to flee the scene when Cyno arrives (all while staying hidden in the realm of dreams. You're not trying to put a target on the back of every Aranara after all)
That aside, you don't really have any troubles with Cyno. When he rests by campfire, he will make sure you stay a comfortable distance from the flames and will teach you about GI TCG and will even tell you a joke or two (or three)
Cyno is a reliable companion. He'll protect you if you are under his protection but he doesn't make you feel less than because you're not human either
But when he isn't in work mode, he is very sweet and even let's you wear his headdress from time to time as long as you are careful with it. In return you place flower crowns atop his head
Is another protective companion. As one brought from the desert to the rainforest for the sake of experiments, Cyno knows what could happen should those at the Akademiya find out that Aranaras are more than just a tale for children
So he always makes sure you aren't sighted by those he cannot trust
Kaveh
Meeting Kaveh was a bit of an accident as you had to help disentangle from a mess of vines
For someone blessed with the power of Dendro, he isn't really one who naturally has an affinity for plants
As such, he is embarrassed when you find him in this situation. Embarrassed and quite amazed to find out that Aranara aren't just stories. One getting him out of a mess like this isn't really how Kaveh ever imagined meeting one back when he was a child
That aside, Kaveh straightens himself out, thanks you and honestly he tries to be polite about it but he has plenty of questions about your being an Aranara that you can't really answer outside of lore you got from the game
You tell him that you'll look out for him when he is prancing about the rainforest so he can avoid these sorts of mishaps in the future which he insists is unnecessary
But you're not trying to be stuck living in nature forever, you want to make sure you have guaranteed safety. It also helps that if you're going to attach yourself to a human in the game, they aren't just some random NPC. A player character comes with a certain level of stability you appreciate
Kaveh's too good an opportunity to pass up and Mehrak is quite cute too. Win-win situation
Out of everyone here though sadly, Kaveh treats you most like a pet. Something no one wants to get from a hot guy even if you understand why he treats you so
At least he gives you plenty of sweets to eat?
You become a surprising point of comfort for Kaveh when he grows frustrated with his roommate. You tend to use your powers of Dendro to weave flowers through his hair during those moments and listen when he vents
You think his kindness does him more harm than good and that he tends to be his worst critic, so you tell Kaveh to be kinder to himself
Candace
A desert really isn't the place for an Aranara but you stubbornly decided to try your luck at it anyway against your better judgement (and the advice of your fellow Aranara)
But a couple of near death experiences aside, you think you made a good decision when you get to Aaru Village. The children there are very sweet and fascinated by you, having never seen an Aranara themselves
So you become quite popular among them, making them all sweet dreams and becoming a sort of... Guardian, one might say
You also help maintain the few plantlife of Aaru Village from Sabbah's flowers to the ajilenakh trees
It isn't much work but it's honest work
Candace thought nothing of it, thinking it was cute for the children of the village to have something to talk about
Then she ran into you trying (and failing) to get some food from the storage and that is how you were discovered by the actual Guardian of Aaru Village
Despite that little mishap, Candace is sweet to you and presents to you the same rules she gives all guests of Aaru. She also appreciates you helping with the children
So she doesn't disagree when you label yourselves as a sort of duo protecting everyone in different ways
Candace seldom has time to rest or enjoy any sort of personal time, so you try to be her invisible company in the day and you pester her to take breaks
You'd threaten to keep her contained in vines to make her take a break but you know she is infinitely stronger than your own abilities
How else can she fight monsters for hours at a time without tiring?
Still if you're at that level of desperate to make her rest, Candace promises to take more breaks along the day and rely more on her fellow guards
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Bad Faith Part One
Masterlist | Part Two
Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader
Rating: Mature (Part 2 will likely be explicit)
Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever. Welcome to part one of two!
There will ONLY be two parts! If you ask me at the end of part two where part three is, I'm going to point you back to this notes section!
If you asked me where part three is and you've been linked here, hi!
Length: 8k
Warnings: Angst. Angst angst angst angst; reader is going through a divorce; Reader's married surname is Hayward; unhealthy coping mechanisms; lovers to enemies to allies to lovers....did I mention angst by any chance? Cause—
Summary: There were so many resources about Steven Hayward from the last decade—interviews, profiles, filings. In all of them, Steven came off as a self-assured, cocky, pompous asshat, but a decent strategist. Those same profiles had described Mrs. Hayward as the trophy wife, the little woman behind the man, tending to the arrangements for their multi-million, 3,000 square foot penthouse overlooking Central Park. For as much as Harvey had forced himself to forget about her, he couldn’t forget her spirit, her determination, her desire to build a life, not to be handed one. None of the credit was given to her. None of the glory, none of the acknowledgement of what Harvey was certain were her blood, sweat and tears in that man’s holdings. 
The tears that she had seemed set to shed in his office were all the indication that Harvey needed.
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It was a long, harrowing moment of silence as Jessica processed all that you’d told her. You fought not to sniffle into the quiet, but your eyes had steadily been leaking tears for the last twenty minutes. Jessica finally stood from her armchair, patting you on the knee and murmuring, “You need a drink.” 
You spluttered a weak laugh, watching her stride over to her luxe kitchen. 
“Gin and tonic?”  
“I would drink the gin straight at that point," You failed to tease.
“Things aren’t all that desperate yet.” 
Yet. How reassuring.
You looked down at the damp, crumpled tissues in your hand before you raised one, dabbing at the few remaining tears. It was another few moments before you heard the click of Jessica’s heels crossing back to you. 
“...Thanks for holding back.” 
She frowned as you looked up at her, taking hold of the glass that she proffered. 
“Holding back?” 
“The I told you so.” 
Jessica’s lips pursed, her head tipping with what you could only assume was a blend of indignance and pity. 
“I did, for the record.” 
“I know.” 
“I told you nothing good could come from tangling your entire life up with that man.” 
“You know, I think those were the exact words that you closed your toast out with at the wedding.” You took a swig, wincing at the overwhelming tang of gin. “Christ, that’s strong.” 
“Too much?” 
“No. It’s perfect, actually.” 
Jessica smiled, lowering herself to sit beside you. 
“Do you have lawyers in mind?” 
“For the divorce? No.” 
“I’ll give you recommendations.” 
“I appreciate that, but that’s not why I’m here.” You glanced doggedly toward Jessica. “I need your help…Untangling a few holdings. Things that I can live off of, or break apart and sell for scraps. I can’t even afford a divorce lawyer right now—let alone whoever you’d suggest.” 
“What?” 
“Steven locked all of my credit cards and froze our joint bank account. I tried reaching out to him, but he won't answer me, and the bank won’t unfreeze it. He seems to think that I’m going to drain the entire thing.” 
“Why does he think that?” 
“Probably because that’s what he would do.” You sniffled, looking down into your glass. “I have some money in savings, but not a lot. Not enough for me to live off of beyond a few months.” 
“Holy hell,” Jessica sighed. You grunted, head hanging as you felt the weight of her judgement. “Do you have any idea which entities you want to go after?” 
“Yeah.” You set your drink down, reaching out to where you’d set your bag down and drawing out a bland beige file. You’d spent the morning working up your courage to come over and tell Jessica the awful truth, and had also spent that time putting together the data to do it. You flipped the file open and passed it over. 
“This is every single property and holding company that I have my name on. I circled the apartment buildings that I want to sell, and the companies that I think would be best suited to my purposes.” 
“Is Steven on all of these?” 
“Only the ones that I put an asterisk beside, but I wouldn't be surprised if he came after the others.”
Jessica hummed, nodding. “You knew exactly what I’d ask for.” 
“Well, I know you.” 
She smiled, closing your file and setting it on her lap. 
“Then I’m sure you know what I’m going to say next.” 
The implication made your stomach churn with discomfort. You took the glass up again, taking a deep pull from it. 
“I do,” You admitted, nose wrinkling again from the sharp juniper taste, “And I know that you’re going to say that it’s the best course of action—” 
“The only course of action.” 
“That’s patently untrue. You have more than one lawyer at your firm.” 
“Not one that could handle a case of this magnitude.” 
“Not even Louis?” 
“Louis is like a french bulldog. Harvey is a pitbull.” 
“You know, that’s actually a really harmful stereotype.”
Jessica’s brows lowered in chastisement, and you looked back down into your drink for safety.
“Wouldn’t it be a conflict of interest?” You added. 
“How could it be? You’ve barely spoken to or looked at the man in eleven years.” 
Eleven years. Had it really been that long? 
“I know that you and Harvey parted on bad terms,” Jessica offered softly, and continued over your disbelieving scoff, “But you need to come out of this with the funds and the strength for a good divorce lawyer. Harvey can give you that.” 
“What if he doesn’t take the case?” 
“He will.” 
“But if he doesn’t?” 
“He will.” 
“Jessica.” 
“He won't have a choice.” 
“Oh, he’ll love that. There’s nothing Harvey likes more than being backed in a corner."
“That’s when he comes out swinging the hardest.” She plucked the emptied glass out of your hand, heading toward the kitchen again. “Would you like another one?” 
You sighed, slouching heavily against the couch and scrubbing your tired eyes. 
“I’d really just like that bottle of gin—and a straw.”
-- 
“Would you stop fussing? You look fine.” 
“I don’t care how I look,” You grumbled, though that didn’t stop you from reaching down and adjusting the skirt of your dress. You didn’t want to admit that Jessica was right, though you both knew that she was. She always had you nailed dead to rights, and that morning was no different. 
You had a slight headache from the drinks you’d had at her apartment the night before, but it was hardly the worst hangover that you’d ever had. You were already two coffees in and you were itching for a third, but you already felt like shit. A third one would just make your heart pound harder, your hands more sweaty, and probably send your anxiety through the roof. You were certain the conversation you were about to have would do all of that for you, so no additional coffee was needed. 
You drew in a deep breath, standing and tugging your dress down again as you walked over to look through out over the city. You could hear the ringing of phones behind you, the clicking of heels, the chatter of conversation. You were just waiting for his voice, waiting for his bravado to enter before he did, to suck the air out of the room. 
“...What’d he say when you told him?” You asked. 
“I haven't yet. I thought it would be more effective if we told him together.” 
“So not only is he being forced to take my case, but it’s an ambush.” You cast Jessica an unimpressed sidelong glance, brows quirked in disbelief. She simply gave a small shrug. 
“I know my associates.” 
“Mm, I bet.” 
“I understand I was summoned? Have I been so terribly missed? Whaddaya say we play hooky, go to the batting cages?” 
There he was—each question was just punch after punch after punch. Your mouth and throat went dry as your body seemed to divert all available liquid assets to the sweat beginning to wet your palms. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know we had company,” He added. 
“It’s alright. Harvey, you know Mrs. Steven Hayward.” 
Hayward. You had always hated the name. Hell, you couldn’t even believe you’d taken it, but you’d been so damn afraid of putting a foot wrong, wary of having someone change their mind again about marrying you. 
You turned to face Harvey, leaning back against the window and folding your arms across your chest, pressing your slick palms to your sides. It shouldn't have been so vindicating to see Harvey looking so gobsmacked, to watch the color drain from his face as his eyes caught up with his mind—as he came to realize, yes, that Mrs. Steven Hayward. 
“Mr. Specter,” You greeted flatly. 
“I—What’s going on?” 
It’s nice to see you, too. You bit the inside of your cheek to silence your snide remark. 
“Mrs. Hayward needs to dissolve and sell a few of her holdings, and I told her that I had just the lawyer for the job,” Jessica announced. 
“...Is that lawyer in the room with us?” Harvey shook his head a little. 
“You are that lawyer. You’ll be taking the case pro-bono.” 
“Pro—Jessica, those cases are reserved for people that actually need help, not for multi-millionaires.” 
That stung in a way that it shouldn’t have—but he was right. There were surely cases that were more worthy of his attention. Still, you couldn't deny the fact that you needed his help, and that your pockets weren't nearly as deep as they used to be.
“My husband is the multi-millionaire, not me,” You argued. 
“Bullshit.” 
“You wanna see my bank statements? I have a little over three hundred in checking, a few thousand in savings.” 
“Mrs. Hayward needs this resolved as quickly as possible, and without any of your usual pomp and circumstance,” Jessica cut in. 
“Why don’t you do this through a divorce attorney?” Harvey pressed. 
“Because right now, I can’t afford one.” 
Harvey pursed his lips, looking between you and Jessica. You watched his jaw tick, saw the thick bob of his adam’s apple shift his collar a little. 
“You have a list of holdings?” He asked, glancing toward you.
“Twenty,” You nodded. 
“To be chopped up and sold for scraps?” 
“Yes.” 
“Seems a little ruthless for you.” 
“It’s what needs to be done.” 
“And you expect me to do it?” 
“I expect you to do your job. If you can’t get over the fact that it’s for me, then you’re in the wrong business.” 
Harvey’s gaze narrowed, his eyes darkening irritation. Oh, you knew that look—like it or not, you had a flash of it like it was yesterday. 
“...Where’s the file.” 
Jackpot. 
“On the desk.” 
You weren’t about to hand it to him. Hell—you weren’t about to hand anything to Harvey Specter on a silver fucking platter. He walked slowly to Jessica’s desk, eyes dropping to the file that had been thickened with information on each of the holdings. He opened it, gaze scanning your original sheet before flipping a couple of pages. 
“I’ll need time to look this over,” He argued. 
“Obviously.” 
“I’ll call you.” 
“Great.” 
“Number still the same?” 
Bastard. 
“My new number is on the inside of the folder.” 
“Great. Is there anything else that I should know?” 
“Just that Steven and his cadre of sharks will likely stick their noses in the second they smell blood in the water.” 
“We’ll be ready.” 
“Good.” 
Harvey gave you one last look, one long, sweeping, analyzing look before he turned away, striding out of Jessica’s office. You slowly released a long breath, shoulders untensing as he got further and further away. You lowered your hands, shaking them out and blowing cool air across your shaking, sweating palms. 
“Are you sweating?” Jessica asked. 
“Are you not? It’s boiling in here." You yanked your collar away from your neck, fanning over your heating skin.
“You can relax. He took the case.” 
“Because he had to, not because he wanted to.” 
“He’ll get over it, and he’ll do his job.” 
“He’s such a grumpy asshole,” You sighed, walking over to the chair that you’d left your jacket and bag on. “But if you say you’re gonna keep him on the straight and narrow—”
“I will—” 
“—Then I believe you. I’ve gotta go.” 
“Where to?” 
“I have to go look at an apartment.” 
“Work never ends.” 
“This is personal. I need to find a new place. I've been in a hotel for the last few nights, and I can't afford to keep that up."
“Don’t you own your place?”
You shook your head, averting your gaze as you pulled on your coat. 
“The penthouse is in Steven’s name.” 
You’d had a few hours to forget the weight of Jessica’s judgement, but you felt it again in full force as she shook her head. 
“...I thought you were smarter than this,” She said after a moment. 
You looked toward Jessica, giving her a small, weak smile. “I’ll see you when I see you.”
“Do you want me to call you a car? On the firm, of course.” 
“No! No, but thanks. I should reacquaint myself with the subway. I’m going to be using it more often.” 
-- 
You managed to hold it together until the real estate agent gave you a moment to ‘get a better sense of the space’. She clearly had no idea who you were, which was a boon, and hardly looked away from her phone as she waved with one hand and typed with the other thumb. You turned to look around, heard the snick of the door closing, and just…Lost it. 
Your tears poured out like someone had reached into your head and turned on a faucet. You buried your face into your hands, uncaring of the fact that your makeup was going to run together. You’d given eleven years of your life to a man that was throwing you to the wolves, as if you’d never meant a thing to him at all—as if you hadn’t put your blood, sweat, and tears into building his empire—into what you had once thought was your empire, too. 
And what the hell did you have to show for it? You stood in a $3,200 392 square foot studio apartment of a six-floor walk-up in the West Village, wearing a $4,900 dress, standing in $600 shoes, a your $1,200 purse shifting on your arm as your shoulders shook with sobs. 
You sniffled roughly, chest hiccuping tightly as you finally began to calm. You reached into your purse, drawing out a compact and flipping it open. You swiped at your run makeup, taking up the pressed powder puff and dabbing beneath your eyes, and over the tear tracks in your foundation. God, just pull it together for the snot-nosed realtor outside. Tell her that you wanted to take it, get the keys, and start figuring out how you could get your things from Steven. You would need to make money in the meantime.
You looked down, shifting rocking back on your heels to get a better look at your shoes. 
You never did love this outfit, and you couldn’t have worn it more than twice. Resale couldn’t be too far below purchase, could it? Come to think of it, you had closets full of hardly worn designer outfits at the penthouse. You looked around the studio. You could spring for a few wheeled clothing racks, find a few reputable resellers. You could get good money for your dresses, your shoes, probably even more for the jewelry that you almost certainly wouldn’t be keeping. Steven always had brought you home a trinket from the trips that he frequently took without you—beautiful gems that you knew now were trinkets for guilt, or something like it. You were almost certain Steven didn’t really feel guilt, but he could play-act at it well enough. 
But you didn’t have to worry about that at that moment. And as soon as Steven did rear his ugly head, he would have Harvey to deal with. Considering your history, that shouldn't have been a very comfortable thought—but you had Harvey and Jessica in your corner.  
You closed your eyes and drew in a deep breath, deeper than you were able to draw before. You held it for one...two...three...And pushed it out slowly as your heated face began to cool.
Deal with the realtor first. Sign the lease, get the keys, and start getting your life back together. 
--  
“This isn’t going to be an easy one," Harvey warned. 
“Of course it isn’t. If it was, you wouldn’t have agreed to take the case.” 
“I didn’t take it, it was given to me.” 
“You poor thing.”
It left you without any sympathy, your gaze stone-heavy as you watched him. He narrowed his eyes, a smile set in place as he rocked back and forth in his chair. He tapped his pen on his lips for a moment before he rocked fully forward. You watched his gaze skate across the file in front of him. 
“The way I see it, there are four easy wins here,” He turned the file toward you, and you scooted forward in your seat to get a better look at them. “The two apartment buildings on the upper East Side, the one in the Village, and the brownstone in Park Slope. We can hack away at the other sixteen down the road, but we should move on these.” 
“Okay.” 
“The easiest win is going to be in the Slope. The assessed value is…” His brows furrowed, and he leaned over the file and squinted, as if he wasn’t quite seeing the number correctly. 
“Seven million?” You filled in. Harvey’s gaze darted to yours, brows raised. 
“Nice chunk of change.” 
“I want it listed for ten.” 
“That may be a little unrealistic.” 
“I’m looking for 8.5 in cash, if possible, so I’m expecting some haggling. I already told the broker as much.” 
“Alright. Which of these buildings are you staying in?” 
“I’m not staying in any of them.” 
“Excuse me?” 
“I’m not staying in any of them.” 
“Why is that?” 
“I’m pairing down, staying somewhere else.” 
“You could stay in any of these rent-free.” 
“The HOA and utilities are more than I can afford right now.” 
“We could bake the HOA into the contract.” 
“If Steven found out I was staying in any of them, he’d find a way to tank the deal from the outside.” 
Harvey’s expression tightened a little before he nodded: “Fine. I’ll need your new address for the paperwork.”
“May I use your pen, please?” 
Harvey pushed the file closer, passing the pen with it. You could feel him watching you as you jotted down your address, name, and number. Harvey draws the file back to himself, sweeping over the information. 
“Keeping your married name?” 
“I’ve put in the paperwork to change it, but that could take at least a couple of months.” 
“I have a friend that clerks for the Supreme Court of New York, I could put in a word.” 
“That’s a kind offer but don’t worry about it. Is there anything else that we need to discuss today?” 
“No, that about covers it. I’ll call you if our real estate department or my associate comes across anything that could be beneficial to your situation.” 
“I may have just uncovered something.” 
You turned at the sound of a new voice, catching sight of a young man standing in the doorway. 
“This is Mike Ross, my associate,” Harvey introduced, standing and holding a hand out toward Mike. “Mike Ross, this is Mrs. Steven Hayward.” 
Your name left him with a vinegary annoyance that you’d been hoping would be absent from this meeting. You stood, holding out your hand and offering Mike your first name. 
“Would you prefer to be, uh..." Mike’s gaze darted between you and Harvey. 
“I’d prefer you not to use my married name, if possible.”
“Got it. So,” Mike stepped between you and Harvey, opening the file that he was holding. “I’ve found an additional six properties where your name is the only one on the lease.” 
You frowned, brow furrowing as you stepped closer to get a look at the file. “That can’t be right.” 
“If Mike found it, it’s right.” There was an irritated thread of steel in Harvey’s tone, and you shot him a scathing glance. 
“The comment was one of surprise, not distrust.”
“Maybe next time you can keep your surprise to yourself and let my associate speak.”
“Just like you’re letting him speak right now?” 
Harvey’s jaw went tight, and you raised your brows as a knowing smirk curled your lips before you turned back to Mike and nodded: 
“You were saying?” 
Mike’s expression was riddled with confusion, but he snapped back into action. 
“Right—There are, uh…Three complexes in downtown Brooklyn,” He shifted through the stack of papers and drew out photos. “They were gutted for renovation, but work was stopped before any further changes could be made. They cited funding concerns.” 
That really couldn’t be right. Steven was rolling in cash like a pig in shit. You took hold of the photos, frown deepening as you got a better look at them. 
“What is it?” Harvey pressed. 
“I don’t recognize any of these.” You flipped to the next one, then the next. The walls in all of them had been stripped; the floors were torn up; the wiring of the ceiling was exposed. 
“What about the other three?” You pressed. 
“Uh—One house in the Hamptons, one in Cape Cod, and one in Gstaad.” 
“You’re kidding,” You said flatly, looking at MIke. 
“I am not. I take it you don’t know about any of those, either?” 
“Not a one.”
“Would you want any of them?” 
“Maybe Cape Cod.” 
“Not Gstaad?” Harvey asked. 
“Mm, not worth it. I don’t know how to ski.” 
“Still?”
You rolled your eyes pointedly before you nodded back to Mike’s file. “Do you have the paperwork for the properties?” “Yeah, it’s, uh…” He set the file down, sifting through for the paper clipped documents and lining them up on Harvey's desk. “These are…All of them…Separated out by property.” 
You went down the line, flipping through each of the pages and growing more and more frantic as you did. 
“None of these are my signature.” 
“He would’ve closed through a title company, I can hunt that down,” Mike commented to Harvey. 
“We can throw these on the list of what needs to be sold, or put them in a living trust,” Harvey offered.
“...I don't know,” You leaned away, shaking your head. You felt so unsettled; after the rapid upheaval of your life over the last week you weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. After this, you had to worry about the divorce, the tabloids, whatever the fuck else you were going to do with your life—You felt your throat going tight with tears, and you cleared your throat harshly, trying to dispel some of the feeling. “If they were good investments, Steven would’ve used his name on them.” 
“All the more reason for you to ditch them.” 
“I want them inspected first. I’m not throwing these on the market until I know what the hell I’m dealing with.” 
“We can take care of that,” Mike promised. You nodded, glancing toward him and offering a tight, grateful smile. 
“Not that you’re paying us to.” 
Harvey’s snide reminder was like having a bucket of cold water poured over you. Your hands curled into fists where they rested on your hips. You were just on the edge of slapping the guy—
“You can deal with me directly,” You offered Mike. “My number’s in the file. Thank you, for—” You waved your hand toward the file. “Uncovering this. I appreciate it.” You took up your purse and threw your coat over your arm, trying to hold back your rapidly rising tears as your face flooded with heat. 
“You’re just going to go?” Harvey asked. 
“It’s always worked for you pretty well,” You snapped. “Figured I’d give it a try.” You stormed out without another word, keeping your gaze staunchly set on the floor that you desperately wanted to sink through. 
--  
“I have…So many questions right now,” Mike shook his head as he watched Mrs. Hayward stride toward the elevators. 
“You know where to start. Get the inspections lined up, and then start prepping the filings for forgery—” 
“Harvey,” Mike raised his hands, chuckling with shock. “What—Was that?” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Oh, please. The whole ‘if Mike found it it’s right’?” 
“Well, that’s true.” 
“That thing about her still not being able to ski? How do you know her?” 
“We’ve met, that’s all.” 
“It’s obviously more than that.” Mike searched Harvey’s gaze for a few moments. “C’mon, what’s your deal?” 
Harvey considered for a moment, his jaw working before he nodded to the right. “Close the door.” 
He lowered himself into his seat as Mike did as he asked, then turned back to him. 
“Mrs. Hayward and I…” Harvey’s expression tightened as he struggled with it. “We were…Involved for a while.” 
“While she was married?” 
“Before.” 
“How involved?” 
“We were engaged.” 
Mike’s eyes widened drastically, his brows making a jump toward his hairline. “En—What?” He laughed breathlessly. “The great Harvey Specter was almost nailed by that ice queen?” 
“Watch it,” Harvey warned; he was stunned as he felt a flair of protectiveness bloom in his chest. “She wasn’t always like that.” He glanced toward the property statements at the front of his desk, and he thought of the dismayed twist of her features. When she’d met his gaze, her eyes had been bright with tears. Maybe that was his fault, at least a little. He should’ve watched his tone a little more. He had surely made her cry enough, years ago. 
“What happened?” Mike pressed.
“I wasn’t ready.” 
“You broke it off?”
“...Something like that.” 
Harvey’s gaze flitted nervously toward Mike, and he could practically hear the wheels turning overtime in his head. It only took a moment before Mike’s eyes managed to widen further, his jaw dropping open in shock. 
“Oh my—There is no way.”
“I’m not proud of it,” Harvey raised a hand to stop Mike’s incredulous questioning. 
“Let me just make sure I’m on the same page here,” Mike shook his head. “You left her at the altar, she married this guy, and now you’re…Making jokes about the fact that she can’t ski or afford a lawyer?” 
Harvey’s heart sank into his stomach as he cut an irritated gaze across the desk. 
“I’m not proud of that, either.” 
“Didn’t stop you, though, did it.” 
“Are you finished with your lecture? Because you have a lot of work to do.” 
“On it,” Mike nodded, hopping out of his seat and restacking the paperwork into the file. 
“While you’re at it, keep your ear to the ground on that Park Slope property. The sooner the wheels are turning on that, the better. Use that number,” He tapped the file, “To call her, and send any documents to that address.” 
“Understood.” 
Harvey listened to Mike’s retreating footsteps as he twisted back and forth in his seat, restless in his discomfort. He pushed himself out of his seat in annoyance, unable to stand sitting anymore. Why had he shot his mouth off at her like that? He knew that she was going through it. He just figured when he’d first seen her in Jessica’s office that this situation wouldn’t be quite so hellish.
Steven Hayward was a billionaire, a former Forbes 30 Under 30 recipient. Harvey had done his digging when the engagement had first been announced—just a few months after Harvey had made the decision not to marry her. He’d assumed then that if she’d moved on so quickly, she couldn’t have loved him much in the first place, and the idea had solidified his decision not to go through with their wedding. 
Harvey had done his best to put her out of his mind, and he’d succeeded for the most part. But when Jessica had thrown this case at him, he’d gone back, done some more digging. There were so many resources about Steven Hayward from the last decade—interviews, profiles, filings. In all of them, Steven came off as a self-assured, cocky, pompous asshat, but a decent strategist. Those same profiles had described Mrs. Hayward as the trophy wife, the little woman behind the man, tending to the arrangements for their multi-million, 3,000 square foot penthouse overlooking Central Park. For as much as Harvey had forced himself to forget about her, he couldn’t forget her spirit, her determination, her desire to build a life, not to be handed one. None of the credit was given to her. None of the glory, none of the acknowledgement of what Harvey was certain were her blood, sweat and tears in that man’s holdings. 
The tears that she had seemed set to shed in his office were all the indication that Harvey needed. He scrubbed his hand across his face, trying to compose himself as he pushed the wounded memory of her away. 
Even footing. He needed to get the two of them on some kind of even footing. Every conversation couldn’t be a fight—it would just slow the both of them down. The sooner they sorted this out, the sooner they’d be out of one another’s hair. 
“Donna!” He called out, turning toward the door. Donna popped her head in a moment later, brows raised expectantly. “I need you to look an address up for me.”
“It’s in the West Village.” 
Harvey’s mouth worked wordlessly for a couple of seconds before he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, “Mike?” 
“You shouldn’t have hired a super genius if you didn’t want him using that big brain.” 
“I was hoping he would use it for good, not evil.” 
“Oh, trust me, he is. Anything else?” 
“Lunch?” 
“It’s on the way.”
Of course it was. 
-- 
“This is everything?” 
“Yes. I checked and double-checked the list that you gave me before I left.” 
You nodded, planting your hands on your hips and looking over six industrial-sized trash bags that contained what you hoped were your tide-over funds. 
“The jewelry’s in there, too?” 
“Hey,” Aaron stepped closer to you, resting his hand on your shoulder. “When I say I got everything, I mean I got everything. I was this close to snagging a couple of light fixtures.” 
You laughed a little, nodding and leaning into the touch a little. You’d worked with Aaron Delaney for over five years at Hayward Realty. You’d hoped that he wouldn’t be in Steven’s camp in the divorce, and when you’d reached out to find out when Steven would definitely be at the office, Aaron had quickly jumped on your bandwagon. It had taken nearly three weeks, but he had come through. Not only had he told you when Steven would be out, but he’d offered to go into the apartment and get things for you. You hadn’t heard a thing from Mike in a couple of weeks, so you could only hope that everything was going smoothly on his end, but these bags would go a long way to bolstering your bitten budget. 
“You want my help cataloging it?” He offered. You shook your head a little. 
“No, god, you've done enough—and helped me lug this up six flights. Besides, Steven will be suspicious if you’re out of the office for too long—you’re too good an employee to be out of pocket for more than a few minutes. But if you’d like to be enlisted in mole duty going forward, I’m gonna need you to have your ear to the ground over there.” 
“You’ve got it.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Text me if you need anything.” 
“Will do, yeah. And thanks again, Aaron. Seriously.” 
“Keep your chin up, hon.” 
“Yeah,” You mumbled, turning back to the trash bags as Aaron headed for the door. God, you didn’t even know what was where. It was probably best to just go bag by bag, and hope all of the suits were together. You could hang the outfits up, take a picture, post it on the app that you were using to resell your luxury clothing. You could—and probably would—keep at least a couple of things for yourself, but you couldn’t go crazy. You’d need suits for your divorce settlement, and possibly for court…And for whatever the hell you wound up doing once this was all over. 
Because it would be over, eventually. There was a life for you on the other side of all of this, and you had to keep reminding yourself of that. Things would get easier, but right now, it all just…Fucking sucked. You had moved the few things that you had into the studio apartment, including your dresser, a bookshelf, a few books, and your favorite Eames lounge chair and reading lamp. You’d had to get a new bed—a full was all that you could use without overwhelming the space; you got a metal frame on Amazon that would get the job done, and you’d bought and built three racks for your clothing. You still hadn’t found an affordable couch, but you had found a nice oak grain bedside table on the sidewalk, with a handwritten looseleaf sign taped to it that read, FREE!!
You hadn’t had the chance to paint or put any personalizing touches on the space besides your furniture—no art, or knick knacks. The space was nearing functional, but you were certain that unpacking all of your clothing was going to make that a hell of a lot more difficult. 
You crouched down in front of the first bag, untying it and opening it. You could see some Scanlan Theodore, some Tuckernuck, some Bergdorf Goodman. This bag was already pretty promising. You sighed, taking the first dress out and wafting the fabric out. It didn’t need to be ironed or steamed, which was a blessing. You were already dreading how long this was going to take, but hell, at least it would give you something to do that wasn’t staring down the barrel of your dead-end future—
Okay. Okay, so not helpful, so not the time. You reached into your pocket, pulling your phone out of your pocket to find a podcast to listen to. There had to be something that you could listen to that would distract you from the monotony of filing and sorting your clothing out. You settled on one of your favorites before you began sorting through the first bag. You were right—a couple of Scanlans, two Tuckernucks, three Bergdorf Goodman’s–
Your sorting was interrupted by a knock on your door. You frowned, pushing yourself up. What else could be left? It had to be good if Aaron had lugged something else up six floors. You pushed yourself off of the floor, brushing the dust off of your sweatpants. 
“Alright, Delaney, what’d you forget?” You asked as you approached the door and tugged it open. 
The sight of Harvey Specter standing on your doorstep made your stomach want to violently unseat your lunch. His gaze swept over you critically, taking sight of you in your comfy clothes. Between the ratty old shirt, the sweats, and your fluffy socks, you were a far, far cry from the way that he’d become accustomed to seeing you in his office. 
“Can I, uh…” He peered over your shoulder, nodding inside. “Can I come in?” 
“I thought I was going to be hearing from Mr. Ross.” 
“Mike is busy, and we need to talk.” 
You couldn’t imagine what the hell you and Harvey needed to talk about. You didn’t want to let him in; you knew that what Harvey was about to see wasn’t what he was surely expecting. Your grip tightened on the handle before you drew in a deep breath nodding, “Sure.”
It was worse than you imagined. Harvey hardly got two steps inside before he stopped fully. Well, to be fair, there wasn’t a ton of space for him to wander around and explore; between the bed, the armchair, and the trash bags, there wasn’t much room for him to move around. You shut the door and pointedly cleared your throat, trying to jog him from his shock. As he faced you again, you could see him trying to mask his surprise, his brows drawing down over his eyes as he turned to a file in his hand. 
“You have an offer on the Park Slope house.”
“Why didn’t I get a call from my broker?” 
“I asked to deliver the news myself.” 
You frowned a little, taking hold of the file and flipping it open. Your eyes widened at the sight of a check paperclipped to the top of the files—for frighteningly beneath asking price. 
“I said I wanted it in cash.” 
“...I know that,” Harvey spoke slowly, as if he was dealing with a particularly difficult and over-caffeinated child. “That is a good faith deposit from the buyer.” 
“They’ve signed?” Your hands tighten around the file as your stomach flipped with excitement. “I didn’t ask my broker for a good faith deposit.” 
“No, I had it baked into the contract.” 
Your gaze flitted to Harvey, annoyance and admiration growing in equal measure. 
“I…Appreciate that,” You finally managed. “But in the future, please run any changes like that by me before you speak to my broker.” 
Harvey nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Understood.” 
“Thanks.” You closed to file, certain that if you didn’t, you’d just spend your time staring at the check—at your first lifeline in this whole mess. “Anything else?” 
“We need to get on a more even footing.” 
“...I don’t know what you mean.” 
Harvey gave you a chastising frown, one that would’ve made you wilt long ago—but now, you simply shook your head and shrugged. 
“I don’t,” You insisted. “Unless you mean that you’ll stop out your thinly veiled barbs about what you think you know about me.” 
“I remember more than you think.” 
“I’m not the woman that you left at the altar, Harvey.” Your admission and reminder left a bitter taste in your mouth. You had to force yourself to hold his gaze, even as his expression flooded with discomfort. You could see him desperately trying to push it away as his retort bubbled up:  
“And I’m not the man that left you there!”
“No?” You laughed openly. “Because this all looks pretty fucking familiar. You’re a shark, Harvey, and you’re a dick. Lucky for the both of us, that’s exactly what I need you to be right now.”
Harvey’s jaw tightened, and you could see his hands curling into fists before he shoved them into his pockets.
“Let’s get one thing perfectly clear,” He seethed, taking a small step closer, “What I do for you over the course of this case is purely because of my reputation in this city. I’m going to do my damndest to get you the best out of all of these properties, but do not think for a moment that the job I do comes from any interest, any compassion, anything worth a damn.”
“What compassion? Anyone with compassion would’ve at least had the grace to do better than a goddamn post-it note in my bridal suite that just said ‘sorry’. It didn't even look like your handwriting!” You loosed a hysterical laugh that had been building in your throat as he spoke. “Or did you not even want that in there? Maybe one of my bridesmaids scrawled it to keep me from just throwing myself off the fucking roof!”
Harvey’s expression flickered again, and you saw some of the color drain from his annoyance-flushed cheeks. You turned away, stomach roiling with embarrassment and irritation.
“Thanks for the file,” You managed, forcing a steadiness into your tone. “Going forward, I really do think it’s for the best that you communicate with me through Mr. Ross.”
“Gladly. Have a nice day, Mrs. Hayward.”
Three long strides, the creak of the door opening, and then slamming shut. You flinched at the sound, fingers tightening around the file, trying to focus on the check.
One hundred thousand dollars was an amazing start. One hundred thousand dollars could go toward your rent, your expenses, buy you some time. Maybe you could get a nice bottle of gin—or a couple of the cheap bottles the size of your head, the stuff that tasted like paint thinner and knocked you flat on your ass until morning.
Maybe you could sell your clothing during the day and quietly slip into oblivion in the evening. You had nothing better to do with your nights. Almost none of your so-called friends had reached out after the news had broken—likely making the choice to side with Steven. He was the one that still had the money, of course, the position in society. His name was on the door, not yours.
Your name was on a 12 month lease, and on a check for one hundred thousand dollars.
sorry
Lowercase, hurriedly scrawled, ink smudged. You could still see the slightly crumpled post-it that had been sitting on your honeymoon suite vanity when you’d returned after waiting at the back of the venue for almost an hour. 
Harvey hadn’t copped to writing it. Maybe he didn’t want to—or maybe he really didn’t write it. Maybe he wasn’t sorry. Maybe he saw the shitshow that your life had become and was glad that he’d gotten out early.
You glanced around the apartment, eyeing the row of trash bags, the rickety furniture. At this moment, you couldn’t blame him.
You tossed the file onto your bedside table before walking back to the trash bags. Bag by bag, then steam what needed to be steam, then sort by brand. Plan of attack. You could get that man out of your head.
That man—which one was worse to think about just now—Steven or Harvey?
You shook your head, forcing yourself to dismiss both of them for the morning. You didn’t have any more time for what could’ve been’s. You had here, you had now.
And you had shit to do.
--
“Okay, two things,” Mike announced as he rounded into Harvey’s office. “One, the purchase agreement for the brownstone is signed and the payment is on the way to her bank account. There’s also an offer for the apartment building in the upper East Side. Two—“
“What do you mean, two?” Harvey frowned. “That’s already two things.”
“Fine, three—“
“Super genius and he can’t even count—“
“I got six emails from Steven Hayward’s representation this morning, disputing ownership of all of the twenty original flagged properties.”
“Damnit,” Harvey hissed. “Even the houses she didn’t know about?”
“No, so far, they’ve been conspicuously left off of the list.”
“Where are we with those inspections?”
“In progress, should hear back by the end of the week.”
“Good.”
Mike nodded, and Harvey returned his attention to his laptop. At least, he did until he realized that Mike hadn’t left the room.
“Something else that you need to say?” Harvey prodded.
“Aren’t you going to ask how she is?”
“Why would I need to know that?”
“Come on, Harvey.”
“She’s a client, Mike.”
“A client that you were going to marry!”
“And I didn’t marry her. What do you think that says about my wealth of feeling for her?”
Mike sighed heavily through his nose, muttering, “Alright.” He began to turn away, heading for the door. “Well, if you had asked, I would’ve told you that she’s putting on a brave face, but she’s getting to the end of her rope.”
“Well I didn’t ask, but thank you for that poetic and poignant diagnosis.”
--
“You have to go.”
“Of all of my priorities right now, the gala is not one of them,” You insisted. “I’ve got about a hundred more urgent matters right now.”
“Make this one,” Jessica insisted, leaning back against her desk, her arms folding across her chest. “You know how badly you’ll be lampooned if you don't turn up.”
“And I’ll be lampooned if I do show up. Besides, I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Wear something you’ve worn before.”
“I don’t have most of those pieces anymore.”
“Then rent something.”
“You do remember that Steven is being honored this year?” 
“All the more reason for you to show your face.” 
“Jessica—“
“What’s your plan.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your plan—when this is all over? Are you going to go back into real estate?”
“…It’s crossed my mind.”
“You know that they will never let you back in if you slink out the back door and try to come in through the front again. They’ve rescinded your keys, honey. May as well stay in the house as long as you can.”
“This metaphor is beginning to exhaust me.”
Jessica grinned. “I better see your name on the RSVP list by the end of the day.”
��Since when do you have access to that information?”
“I have my sources.”
You heard two knocks, followed by the increasingly comforting sound of Mike’s voice: “Sorry to interrupt.”
“Not at all,” Jessica waved him inside. “I’m hoping for a fruitful update.”
“Well,” Mike gave a small, nervous smile as he joined the two of you. “The good news is that purchase for the brownstone is moving through the channels, and there are interested buyers for the upper East Side apartment building. Unfortunately —“ The word made your gut swoop. “—Your ex-husband has come out of the woodwork. He’s trying to stake a claim on the properties, and on a hold co. We’re monitoring the situation,” Mike added before either you or Jessica could speak, “But I wanted to make you aware of what you could be facing sometime soon.”
You nodded, wringing your hands where they were folded in your lap.
“I appreciate the update.”
“Of course.”
“Why isn’t Harvey relaying this to me himself?” Jessica frowned. You raised your brows, glancing toward Mike, and fighting back a wave of amusement at his blatant deer-in-headlines expression.
“He had a—meeting,” He flubbed before jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I should, uh–” 
Jessica’s brows raise skeptically, but she nods, and you bite back a laugh as Mike leaves the room with a measured hurry. 
“...Why do I have the feeling that the two of you are keeping something from me?” 
“I don’t know what you mean,” You shrugged, pushing yourself out of your seat. “Now if you excuse me, I have some clothes to package—” 
“And a gala outfit to find. I understand.” 
You turned from Jessica’s smug grin, rolling your eyes as she tacked on, 
“And don’t forget to get your nails done!”
You rounded out of the office, pulling up short as you slammed into someone. 
“Oh! Fuck, sorry!” You breathed as their hands landed on your hips to steady you. 
“...Don’t worry about it.” Harvey’s flat tone turned your stomach. You cleared your throat, stepping back and out of his hands. 
“I’ll watch where I’m going.” 
“Sounds like a plan.” 
You gave a firm nod as you skirted around him, face flooding with embarrassed heat as you strode toward the elevators. 
-- 
The gala. You’d completely forgotten about the gala until Jessica had brought it up. Six months ago, planning the evening had been the center of your world. You’d put a deposit down for a custom dress, had it fitted. Steven had asked you to coordinate a cocktail party for the two hours beforehand—an intimate gathering for 150 of your closest friends and associates. You sighed, leaning back against the hard subway seat and gazing at your appearance in the window opposite you. 
You could just see it now—the who’s who of New York’s real estate scene all swanning up to the penthouse, lounging fashionably, eating the hors d'oeuvres that you’d chosen and drinking the champagne that you’d ordered by the case…
…The champagne that you had ordered…
Come to think of it, those contracts all had your name on them, your contact information. Steven hadn’t been involved with a damn thing, save for the use of his credit card to put down deposits. He never did—he expected you to handle all of the coordination on the day as well; he would swan in an hour after the party started and do his scant duties as the host.
A devilish grin curled your lips. You were sure you still had all of the confirmations in your email. You could cancel all of it—the ice sculpture, the caterer, the champagne…Well, maybe you could divert one case to your new apartment, and cancel the rest. 
Oh, you could really see it now—Steven seething as he frantically checked his emails for any hint of vendors, any phone number or email that he could call to find out what the hell happened to the party that was to-be. You were certain that the tailor still had your dress—and you had a check for a hundred thousand dollars that you could dip into for a manicure. 
You stood as the train pulled into your station. You were suddenly looking forward to the gala.
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carlosoliveiras-wife · 4 months
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a bit of a personal post. taps chin. because i've been feeling highly insecure for an unspecified amount of time and so i thought i'd make an appreciation post !
putting this in big bold letters: PROSHIP DNI
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shoutout to selfshippers with bottling problems and/or tendencies. to those of us who keep our feelings locked up inside until it pops and pours out when we least want it to. to those of us who bottle so much to keep others feeling happy. to the selfshippers who are so scared to voice anything about how they feel because they've experienced negative reactions from those they've trusted, just by voicing their emotions.
shoutout to selfshippers who can't properly gush because they often feel like a nuisance to others. whether it's the kinda gushing that's about your f/o's lore, your f/o in general, your selfships— to those of us who find it weird and at times a bit uncomfortable to gush because we're so used to feeling like a nuisance. or that we won't even be given the time of day to have our stuff acknowledged.
shoutout to selfshippers who are genuinely not understood. who's reactions at times are viewed as unnecessary or overdramatic or illogical for reacting the way we do when we're scared of opening up.
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your f/o(s) wouldn't treat you like that. they'd listen to you oh so intently, to whatever you'd have to say.
if you've been bottling for so long, whether it's emotions or interests, your f/o(s) wouldn't let you keep that up. they'd gently encourage you to express yourself, even if it starts out small. they reassure you that they won't get mad about speaking your mind, that're you're not an asshole for how you feel, especially if your f/o(s) understand what cause your reactions and why you keep things inside.
your f/o(s) will do everything in their power to make you feel safe in being you, you who expresses yourself, just like every human should be allowed to.
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pomrania · 2 months
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On 24-25 February 2024 I'll be opening requests so you can get your cat drawn as a wizard. Full details, including how to make a request, are underneath the cut, as I don't want to clutter anyone's dash; but if you've been around for my previous cats-in-wizard-hats events, it's pretty much the same stuff this time.
For this event, I'm only accepting requests in the given time period, defined by "it's still that date somewhere in the world". Most things will be drawn and posted after that date.
Only one request per person; previous art events do NOT count against that limit. You don't have to worry about "taking away from other people who haven't gotten art already" or "giving me extra work".
To make a request, reblog this post with the cat photo you want me to work from. In the body of the post (not the tags), include the cat's name, and what kind of wizard they would be. If you have multiple cats, pick one, because I refuse to choose which cat to draw; likewise, if you have multiple pictures, I'd appreciate it if you specified which photo you want me to use (and the other photos are just for showing off your cat).
Once you've made a request, please don't delete it or make any major changes, as that just makes things harder on my end; I have a system for keeping track of things, so when "what's in your post" doesn't match with "what I recorded", that takes extra time and effort to figure out.
It doesn't have to be a cat you currently have; past pets, or the pets of friends or family, are allowed. The biggest thing is that it has to be a critter you have some form of connection with; I won't draw random pictures you just found online.
Non-cats are allowed, so long as you can explain why the critter is actually a cat.
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yinses · 1 year
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amaretto mirage
pairing: [modern]gn! reader x hantengu clones (sekido, karaku, aizetsu, urogi) wc: 10k+ rating: mature (for this part) a/n: the PLAN is two, maybe three parts. then possibly some accompanying drabbles if i haven't burned myself out
[also available to read on ao3] synopsis: you, a simple student, finds yourself caught in a sensual game between a quadruplet of brothers, leading you down a path of self-discovery and forbidden desires.
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"oh, aizetsu, wait for me please," you call out as you hurry to catch up to your friend. the sun beats down relentlessly, casting harsh shadows across the pavement, and the air is thick with the scent of exhaust and the sound of honking cars. you can feel beads of sweat trickling down your back, and the weight of your backpack seems to increase with every step.
as you draw closer to aizetsu, you take a moment to study him. his tall, lean frame is relaxed and unhurried, and his sky-blue eyes twinkle with a serene kind of patience that you find both calming and exhilarating. you can't help but wonder how he manages to maintain such an air of composure in the midst of the chaos that surrounds you.
with a sigh, you turn your attention back to your own worries. the never-welcomed midterm finals loom ahead, and you feel a familiar sense of panic rising within you. despite being in your fourth and final year, you still feel woefully unprepared. your scattered notes are a testament to your haphazard studying habits, and you know you'll pay for it later with a headache.
as you walk alongside aizetsu, you reflect on the years of hard work and dedication that have brought you to this point. you've managed to maintain decent enough grades, but deep down, you know that the credit isn't fully yours. in recent months, you owed a large portion to the man beside you.
you first met aizetsu during your sophomore year, but looking back on your freshman year, you couldn't recall his face as easily. his presence had been shrouded by what you knew of his brother, urogi, the school's star basketball player.
it wasn't until someone mentioned the relation between the two that aizetsu finally showed up on your radar. but that's really where the likeness ended. it was true that physically they shared the same complexion and hair, but their eyes and personalities couldn't be more different.
you remember marveling at the biological mystery of how one brother could have eyes that mimicked the sun while the other had a pair that mirrored the ocean. it made mountains more sense than the floating superstitions of demonic energy that your classmates liked to loft around. and apparently, aizetsu had two other brothers who also had differing eye colors. they were all quadruplets.
so yeah, given that anomaly, you were okay with blaming biology. but what you knew of urogi was that he was boisterous and confident, a fitting temperament to balance out his presence on the court. aizetsu, on the other hand, was best described as the opposite, which would be quite fitting if they were only twins. he was not rude per se, but decidedly introverted, keeping to himself and maintaining a low tone. most noticeably, where urogi was always boasting a bright smile, aizetsu was more solemn.
"sorry, you said you didn't have anything planned after this, right? i won't hold you up, but i wanted to get you something for your help," you say, breaking the comfortable silence.
aizetsu's face remained inscrutable, his blue eyes calculating as he spoke. "we share similar classes. it is an equal exchange."
your heart fluttered in your chest at the sound of his voice. he was always so patient with you, despite the vast gap in your intellect. aizetsu was undoubtedly a genius, while you had to work tirelessly to keep up with the coursework. you knew he could manage on his own, but he chose to help you anyway.
gratitude and admiration swelled within you, only further cementing your desire to show him your appreciation. you weren't sure why he chose to befriend you, but you treasured his company nonetheless.
"it's nothing big," you said, attempting to downplay your intentions. your meager budget didn't afford much extravagance. "we can go to the cafe on campus. we don't have to sit down or anything. just grab something on the way."
your heart raced as you offered, hoping that he wouldn't see through your poorly veiled attempt to treat him. you couldn't help but feel nervous at the prospect of him rejecting your gesture or worse yet, interpreting it as something more than just gratitude.
aizetsu's gaze bore into you, and you held your breath in anticipation.
"alright, if you insist," he finally acquiesced.
relief washed over you as you smiled gratefully, thanking him for accepting your offer. you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest at the thought of spending more time with him. but you pushed those feelings aside, not wanting to ruin the delicate balance of your friendship
⚘. ⚘. ⚘.
as aizetsu made the decision to sit down and order rather than grab and go, you felt a wave of nervous energy course through your body. you tried to remain composed, reminding yourself that this wasn't a date but merely a gesture of gratitude. you were pleasantly surprised that he had even agreed to come in the first place.
despite having known each other for months, you still struggled to describe your relationship with aizetsu. you were more than acquaintances, but not quite friends. your interactions were confined to the classroom and the library, but the countless hours spent studying together had brought you closer than you thought possible.
as you sat across from aizetsu, you couldn't help but fidget in your seat. the atmosphere was charged with a sense of anticipation, as if this small outing held more significance than either of you let on. you desperately hoped that this would be a step towards building a stronger friendship, one that could survive beyond graduation.
the cafe was cozy, with warm yellow lighting casting a soft glow over the wooden tables and chairs. the faint aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods wafted through the air, mingling with the chatter of other patrons. you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in this space, as if it were a sanctuary away from the stresses of academia.
as aizetsu ordered his drink, his eyes flicked over to you briefly before returning to the menu. you felt a flutter in your chest at the brief moment of eye contact, wondering if he was feeling the same sense of anticipation as you were.
as aizetsu's attention snaps back to you, you catch a glimpse of a camera flash and the click of a shutter from the corner of your eye. you shake your head, dismissing it as a trick of the light or your imagination. you turn your focus back to the conversation, discussing your tentative plans for the final semester and how you hope to broaden your knowledge in your major. aizetsu listens attentively, nodding and interjecting his own insights with ease.
suddenly, the serene ambiance of the cafe is shattered as a new figure emerges. when you look up, you find another version of aizetsu standing over the table. without even meeting him, you know this must be urogi, aizetsu's brother. his boisterous presence immediately fills the room, causing heads to turn and eyes to follow him. his eyes lock onto you, roving over you with unabashed interest before he snorts and pulls out a chair, sitting down uninvited.
aizetsu's brow furrows,"now is not the time, urogi. go away."
urogi simply crosses his arms, grinning as he refuses to budge. "nah, this is too good," he retorts, his eyes sparkling with mischief. the air around you suddenly becomes charged with a mix of curiosity and tension.
suddenly there is another click and flash, but this time much closer as urogi snaps a photo of your face. as the flash of the camera dies down, you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. you wonder if urogi's laughter is directed towards you, or if he's simply amused by his own antics. you force a smile, trying to play it cool, but it's clear that he's rattled you.
he sees your expression and laughs, “don’t worry, i’m not doing anything weird with it. just sending it to my brothers. it's not often little aizetsu goes out on a date.”
aizetsu's reply is sharp,"urogi that's rude. you can't just do what you want like that." the other brother only shrugs and by the time he sets down his phone the damage is done.
the atmosphere of the cafe suddenly feels oppressive, as if the walls are closing in on you. you're acutely aware of the other customers, their eyes darting towards your table before quickly averting their gaze. the low hum of conversation seems to have evaporated, leaving only the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.
despite your discomfort, you can't help but also feel sorry for aizetsu. you never expect and act of gratitude would draw this much attention.
“it’s not a date, i just wanted to thank him for his help this semester."
urogi seems disinterested in your explanation as he taps against his phone. “yeah, aizetsu isn’t going to let just anyone sit him down for a meal.” he says it so absently but with a tone of finality that furrows your brow. 
you don't want aizetsu to get the wrong idea, or for anyone else to think that you're trying to pursue something more than friendship. but urogi seems uninterested in your explanation, preoccupied with his phone.
the firmnesss in his tone when he speaks of aizetsu only makes you more curious about the reserved genius. as the tension thickens between the brothers, you feel like an outsider looking in.
the atmosphere in the cafe shifts, the ambient noise fading into the background as the two siblings stare each other down. aizetsu's eyes are narrowed with determination, and you can sense that he's not going to back down. his brother, on the other hand, looks almost amused as he crosses his arms over his chest, tapping his foot impatiently.
you can feel the weight of the moment pressing down on you, unsure of how to proceed. you glance between the two of them, searching for a way to ease the tension. aizetsu's voice breaks the silence, clear and firm. "they're not a crush, urogi. they're a friend. this was meant to be a treat for our study efforts, and you're ruining it."
urogi's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his grin faltering slightly. "oh? just a friend?" he says, sounding almost disappointed. "well, that's a shame. i was hoping for some juicy gossip to share with the team."
you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at the implication, and you wonder how aizetsu is taking all of this. he seems unperturbed, however, his expression remaining resolute. "you're not getting anything, urogi. ."
there's a moment of tense silence before urogi finally relents, settling back into his chair with a sigh. "fine, fine. i'll behave. but you owe me one, little brother."
the tension in the air begins to dissipate, and you let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. the cafe noise returns to the foreground, and you take a sip of your drink to calm your nerves. you can't help but wonder how many other hidden tensions are lurking beneath the surface of aizetsu's life.
as the silence drags on, you begin to feel restless. you shift in your seat, trying to find a way to diffuse the tension. your eyes dart back and forth between the two brothers, unsure of what to say. finally, you clear your throat, hoping to break the stalemate.
"aizetsu doesn't get the chance to talk about his family often. i distract him too much with my countless questions on material," you say, hoping to shift the conversation to a more positive note. 
your laugh however, cuts off uneasily as those golden eyes settle on you. a tug of something you cant describe pulls at his lips,”a distraction, i’m sure.” he studies you a moment longer, before reaching for the discarded menu. “well, let’s hear all about the person who has kept our brother occupied.”
aizetsu's focused gaze doesn't leave his brother, but you can sense the odd taste at the mention of his family. despite spending countless hours studying with him, you know little about his personal life. you wonder what secrets he keeps hidden behind those deep, contemplative eyes.
your attempt at lightening the mood with a joke falls flat, and you can feel the weight of the awkward silence settle over the table. your gaze falls to the table, the scratched surface now a blur beneath your fingertips as you twist them together nervously.
aizetsu's sudden attention startles you, and you raise your head to meet his gaze. the way his lips tug at the corners sends an unfamiliar jolt of something through you, but you can't put a name to it. his intense stare feels like a physical touch, sending shivers down your spine.
as he picks up his cup, you realize you've been staring too long. quickly, you avert your gaze, taking refuge in your own drink as if it can provide a shield from his penetrating gaze. aizetsu's calm tone breaks the silence, drawing your attention back to the conversation.
“given you don’t take your studies seriously, i’m not left with many options, urogi.”
urogi hums,”true. but that’s never stopped you before.”
your mind races to come up with a suitable response, but you find yourself at a loss for words. you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. "well, there's not much to tell. we're just friends, after all." the words sound weak even to your own ears, but they're the only ones that come to mind.
urogi snorts, leaning back in his chair. "just friends, huh? you're blushing like a bride, you know." his words are teasing, but you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. 
the intended outing for two has evolved into something you're not entirely sure how to describe. eventually, your waiter returns to take urogi’s order, not hiding their surprise well. but urogi is more attentive to you as he quizzes you on your hometown, studies, and interests.
"so, where are you from originally?" urogi asks, leaning forward in his seat.
"i'm from a small town south of here," you reply, feeling a little uneasy under his intense gaze.
"a small town, huh? what made you want to come to this big city for school?"
"i wanted to experience something new and different," you say with a shrug.
"i can respect that," urogi says with a nod. "what's your major?"
you share without pause. 
"sounds cool. what kind of career are you hoping to have with that degree?" urogi asks, leaning back in his seat.
"i'm not really sure yet. i'm still exploring my options," you say with a smile.
meanwhile, aizetsu watches the two of you with a furrowed brow, clearly not thrilled with his brother's line of questioning. finally, he speaks up.
"urogi, can you stop talking so much for once? we came here to relax," he says pointedly.
urogi rolls his eyes but acquiesces. "fine, fine. but i have to ask. how about basketball? you're a big fan of the games right?"
aizetsu signs, but you can feel the mood finally settling to a comfortable point that you can lean into. 
and so the conversation shifts to a more neutral topic, and you're able to relax a bit and enjoy your coffee that has run lukewarm now. but in the back of your mind, you can't help but wonder what urogi's true intentions are and why he's so interested in you.
as the bizzare occassion winds down, you can't help but feel a sense of surreality as the situation has evolved into something you never imagined. you would have never expected approaching the kid in the back of the lecture room would lead to this.  
“i should get going, my shift starts soon.”
urogi whistles,” a worker and a student. busy, busy.”
as you reach for the check, your hand is halted by urogi's quick reflexes. he snatches it away with a playful grin, teasing his brother, "aizetsu, making our them pay? that's not very hospitable of you."
aizetsu simply shrugs, his expression unreadable. "i didn't want to insist and make them feel uncomfortable. they wanted to treat me, after all."
urogi's playful demeanor dissipates, and he studies his brother for a moment before suddenly slamming his own card on the table. "consider it my treat, then. you can owe me one, aizetsu."
the gesture catches you off guard, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks. you're not used to this kind of generosity, and it makes you feel both grateful and uneasy at the same time. 
as the waiter takes the bill and disappears, you let out a small sigh of relief. the cafe, though delicious, has been a rollercoaster of emotions. urogi, the more talkative of the two, had bombarded you with questions, leaving you feeling dizzy and unsteady. aizetsu, on the other hand, had remained quiet for the most part, his blue eyes observing your every move.
as urogi scribbles a generous tip onto the bill and rises to his feet, you can't help but feel a little relieved that the intense scrutiny is over. he chats easily as he turns to his brother, his voice ringing with a certain cheerfulness that makes you wonder what kind of relationship they have.
"it was nice to meet you. i'm sure we'll be seeing each other again." urogi waves his phone in the air, the light catching the screen and casting a blue glow across his face. "sekido wants to see us. i staved him off for long enough, but we both don't want him calling."
his gaze flickers briefly to his brother, before settling back onto you. "sekido is technically the 'oldest'. a bit rougher than the rest, but," he pauses, his lips tugging up into a small smile. "i'm sure you'll get along just fine."
urogi throws an arm over aizetsu's shoulder, guiding him away as they make their exit. you watch them go, feeling more confused than when you first walked into the restaurant. what kind of family were they, to be so open and yet so guarded? you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts, as you gather your belongings and head out.
⚘. ⚘. ⚘.
as the day waned, you hurriedly packed your bag and left campus feeling the piercing gaze of the curious onlookers behind you. the sky outside was a blend of oranges and pinks, the sun bidding a warm farewell to the day. you knew you had only a short window of time to change and make it to your night shift at the corner convenience store in your neighborhood.
at night, the store was a hub of activity, bustling with customers seeking to grab a quick snack or last-minute essentials. it was a simple job, but one that kept you afloat, paying your bills and rent. the store was always expecting customers, but not always with the most pleasant of crowds. the sound of shattering glass echoed through the aisles, causing you to wince from the front.
“oi, you’ll be paying for that, dumbass. i told you to watch where you’re going,” growled a gruff voice.
“i ain’t paying for shit,” retorted another voice, filled with equal parts anger and defiance.
you listened nervously as the argument escalated, hoping it would end before you became an issue beyond simple damages. as the two men continued to bicker, you couldn't help but wonder how your life became this - a constant struggle to make ends meet, dealing with difficult people and their petty squabbles. the thought made you feel a little weary, but you squared your shoulders and braced yourself.
the job itself wasn't glamorous, but it was a means to an end. you were grateful for the reliable income that helped manage your rent and groceries. the store owner even threw in a decent discount on some of the items, which came in handy during tight months. and being situated so close to home, you didn't have to worry about losing precious time commuting.
eventually, the two men made their way to the front, both jostling to get to the counter first. you waited patiently as they bickered and pointed fingers, each refusing to take responsibility for the shattered case of beer.
“oi, this bastard shattered a case of beer.”
“that wasn't me it was you.”
“as if.”
“well i ain't paying for it,” came the final reply with a sharp glaze your way.
you knew it was only a matter of time before the blame would fall on you, but you had grown accustomed to these petty disputes. with a smile, you offered to take care of it, hoping to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible.
the men, still grumbling but appeased for the moment, took their leave and headed for the door. you breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that they didn't try to engage with you further. you retreated to the backroom to gather the necessary cleaning supplies, mentally preparing yourself for the next unexpected hurdle.
it was an inconvenience, but at least this one made sense.
⚘. ⚘. ⚘.
the air is thick with the buzz of students rushing to and from their final exams. your own mind is a jumble of information, formulas, and theories that you've tried to cram into your brain in just a few short days. the relief of completing one of the exams is quickly replaced with a sense of exhaustion and the anticipation of the next one. you're stumbling down the hallway when you suddenly collide with someone.
hands steady you, preventing you from falling to the ground, and a familiar voice rings out with laughter.
it's urogi.
you can't help but feel a little surprised to run into him again, especially during such a hectic week. the finals schedule has thrown off your usual routine, making it difficult to anticipate who you might see on campus.
despite the chaos of the week, urogi rather collected. his eyes sparkle mischievously as he greets you, as if he knows something you don't. it's clear that he's not here by coincidence. you wonder if he's been keeping tabs on your schedule, or if he's simply a master of appearing when you least expect it.
you open your mouth to apologize for the collision, but urogi beats you to it. "well, well, well. look who it is! i thought i recognized your backside from a mile away," he jokes, playfully teasing you. 
you take a moment to look around and notice that the hallway is filled with students bustling to and fro. the fluorescent lights overhead cast an unnatural glow on everything. the air is heavy with the scent of stale coffee and sweat, a testament to the long hours spent cramming for exams.
in the midst of the chaos, urogi stands out like a beacon of calm. his hair is windswept and his clothing is slightly disheveled, but it only adds to his charm. his eyes dance as he talks, and you find yourself drawn into his infectious energy.
"finished with your exams?" he asks, his curiosity palpable. your last exam of today was one of the later ones, but fortunately, you've managed to escape the night classes this year. you don't know if you could survive that again. still unsure why urogi is talking to you, you respond politely. "yes, one more tomorrow, and i'm done."
urogi nods along. "right, right." as bodies move around you both, you can't help but notice the stares and whispers floating around. this is not the kind of additional stress you needed. you're already exhausted from studying and taking exams, and now you have to deal with gossip and speculation?
"well, i should get going. good luck with the rest of the week." urogi's gaze widens at your abruptness, and he reaches out to stop you. "hold on, i actually came to ask you something."
you can feel your heart rate increasing as you turn to face him. what could he possibly want?
“the thing is,” urogi begins, his voice low and conspiratorial. “i'm hosting an end of semester party tomorrow night. it'll be a chance for everyone to unwind and forget about their worries. you should come.”
you immediately go to decline, you barely know urogi but you know of the crowd he attracts. that definitely would not be your scene trapped in a house with all of them. “thanks for the offer but—”
urogi cuts you off, “it’d be really great if you came. aizetsu needs the break too and he’s more inclined to come if you do. “
he seems to sense your hesitation and reaches out to squeeze your shoulder. it's a show of camaraderie that surprises you. you didn't realize the two of you shared that kind of relationship.
“you still owe aizetsu a treat, right? you can use this as one,” he says with a wink.
you frown at his words, feeling as though you're being manipulated. you cant help but frown at that, “that feels more like a treat from you. which would make it twice youve done that.”
urogi shrugs as he pulls away,” really? i dont see it that way.” he waves of his shoulder as he departs, not giving you room to argue.
“catch up with aizetsu and coordinate. see you tomorrow,” he calls over his shoulder.
as you watch him disappear into the crowd, you're left wondering how quickly this semester has changed.
⚘. ⚘. ⚘.
the final exam had come to a close and the air in the classroom was charged with a palpable sense of relief and accomplishment. as the instructor wrapped up the semester with final words of praise and congratulations, you couldn't help but feel your spirits lift with each passing moment.
you were finally done.
as the rest of the class began to shuffle out of the door, your eyes drifted to aizetsu. despite trying not to think much of it, urogi's offer returned ahain. now, without the excuse of exams, it was harder to bat away.
making up your mind, you rushed to catch up with aizetsu as he made his way out of the classroom.
"aizetsu, hey!" you call out, your heart racing as you catch up to him. he turns at the sound of your voice, and you feel a jolt of something electric as his cool blue eyes meet yours. 
"did you feel confident about that? you should, after all the effort i put into quizzing you," aizetsu says, his voice low and smooth. you shake your head, trying to refocus your scattered thoughts.
"yeah, actually. thank you. i used your revision guide last night too." you reply, feeling grateful for his help during the exam preparation.
aizetsu nods. "good, you've earned the break." you notice something lighter in his posture today, something more friendly. "do you have work tonight?" he asks.
his question reminds you that you have something else to ask him. "no, actually, i wanted to see if you were planning to go to urogi's party."you say, your voice laced with a touch of hesitation. aizetsu raises an eyebrow, his expression quizzical.
"urogi's party?" he repeats. 
it feels odd to ask, given that they're brothers. but you feel as though you were right in assuming that aizetsu had no interest. as if to mirror your thoughts, he frowns. "no, i never really go. i didn't think it would be something you enjoyed either."
well, it seems you both have a pretty good scope of each other. a gesture that fills you with unexpected warmth. it gives you the courage to push further. "normally no, but i thought it could be fun?" you offer with a shrug. "and i still owe you a treat. let me buy you a drink?"
aizetsu is quiet as he considers you. it's almost as if he sees through you and can imagine the echoed conversation from between his brother and you yesterday. the scrutiny makes you nervous. but just as you go to take back your offer, he sighs with a shrug. "if that's what you want."
"yeah, i think it will be fun," you grin, more t ease with his acceptance.
"alright."
it appears that he wants to say something else but leaves it at that. you watch him go, feeling both relieved and anxious at the same time.
⚘. ⚘. ⚘.
as the evening draws closer, you can feel your anticipation building up. the last day of exams has left you feeling exhilarated, and you can't wait to let loose a little at urogi's party. but before you head out, you decide to put a little extra effort into your attire. you rummage through your closet, picking out an outfit that is both stylish and comfortable.
as you slip into your clothes, you can't help but wonder why you're putting in so much effort. after all, it's just a party, and you'll be surrounded by a bunch of drunken college students. but a part of you knows that you're doing it for yourself, to feel good and confident. and maybe, just maybe, you're hoping that aizetsu will notice too.
the memory of your conversation with aizetsu earlier in the day lingers in your mind. you can't shake off the feeling that something has changed between you two. the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you - it all felt different somehow.
as you step off the bus, the bustling city surrounds you like a cloak. you take a deep breath, feeling the energy of the crowd electrify your senses. the sound of car horns and chatter mix together in a chaotic symphony, and the neon lights of the city create a vivid display of color.
but as you walk towards the address, you begin to realize that something is off. this is not the typical college housing area where you expected urogi's party to be held. instead, the street is lined with bars and clubs, their neon signs lighting up the night sky.
as you approach the establishment linked to the address, you notice a line of your classmates snaking along the sidewalk. it seems that urogi has chosen a more unconventional venue for his mid-semester bash. you can hear the muffled thump of the bass from inside the bar, and the scent of alcohol and sweat wafts towards you on the breeze.
for a moment, you hesitate. this is not your usual scene, and you feel out of place. 
as you approach the entrance, you notice a burly man, who must be the bouncer, engaged in a heated discussion with a student and another man who looks vaguely familiar.
the man’s furrowed brow gives him a perpetually annoyed expression, but you can't help but notice the resemblance between him and aizetsu and urogi. it's almost too obvious for you to believe that he's anything other than the third brother.
that leaves one left.
"there should have been a limit on the patrons," the man grumbles as he stares down at the line of students with a look of distain. "my brother knows the capacity and we're well past it."
"but i was invited," the girl protests, but neither even acknowledges her.
"they're welcome to wait until someone leaves, but i won't have regulators at my door over some college students," he says, turning to leave.
you scan the long line of people waiting outside the venue and a sense of disappointment settles over you. it looks like a never-ending queue, and you can't help but think that no one will be leaving the party anytime soon. the ingress and egress would surely be a nightmare for those at the back of the line, which includes you.
despite feeling a bit disheartened, you had made an effort to dress up for the occasion. you don't know why, but you had a feeling that tonight was special. maybe it was because aizetsu was coming, and you wanted to look your best for him. you hope that he will notice your extra effort, but you're not entirely sure if he will.
you pull out your phone to let him know about the situation. 
the least you could do was inform him that you tried. you uncover your phone and send a text
hey, the place is too packed for more entry. i’m going to head home. sorry for convincing you to come :(
his reply comes quicker than you expect.
are you still here?
a few blocks down? about to catch the bus soon.
the text is sent, and you wait for a reply. as you stand at the bus stop, you see the headlights of the approaching transport. but just then, a voice startles you.
“hey, why are you going home? did you not want to come?”
it's aizetsu, and you're surprised to see him standing there. he's dressed more casually than you, in a light shirt and jeans. you quickly explain the situation with the bouncer and the overcrowding.
“but you wanted to come?” he asks, and you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest.
“i mean, i guess. i got dolled up for it,” you reply, turning a bit to show off your outfit.
aizetsu gives you a quick once-over, and you feel a rush of warmth at the attention.
“then don't let it go to waste. let's go."
you're hesitant at first, but his encouragement pushes you forward. you feel a bit anxious about the overcrowding, but you're also thrilled to be going to the party with aizetsu.
aizetsu's determination to get into the club was unyielding and he led you back under the bright lights illuminating the entrance. despite the short amount of time that had passed, the line had remained steadfast, with the same resolute girl still standing at the front. aizetsu, however, was not deterred as he pulled you to the front of the line. the bouncer regarded you both with a cool stare.
“capacity limit,” he stated firmly.
“they were invited by both myself and urogi. kick someone else out if you want, kyogai, it won't make me sad,” aizetsu replied confidently.
kyogai seemed to consider the proposition for a moment, but ultimately gave in as aizetsu pulled you through the entrance. the waiting students erupted in protest, but their complaints were muffled as the sound of the music inside grew louder.
stepping into the club, you were struck by its beauty. the colors, lights, and sounds all melded together to create an atmosphere unlike any you had experienced before. the room was alive with energy and excitement, and you couldn't help but feel swept up in the moment.
the decor was impeccable, with plush velvet seating and shimmering crystal chandeliers hanging overhead. the bar was lined with a vast array of drinks, and the bartenders were busy mixing and shaking cocktails. the dance floor was a sea of bodies, pulsing with the beat of the music.
“this is beautiful,” you breathed, marveling at the sight before you.
“karaku designed it. he would appreciate the compliment,” aizetsu said and you realized that must be last of his brothers.
indirectly, that meant you were now aware of four of them. your mind raced with questions, but for now, you were content to lose yourself in the magic of the night.
as aizetsu leads you to the bar, you take in the lively atmosphere around you. the music pulsates through your body, vibrating every fiber of your being, and the colorful lights cast playful shadows on the walls. the decor is sleek and modern, with a futuristic vibe that seems to transport you to another dimension. it's a far cry from the usual places you frequent, but you find yourself enjoying the change of pace.
as you lean against the bar, taking in the scene, you feel a sudden tug on your shoulder. urogi stands before you, a wide smile on his face. his presence is commanding, and you can't help but feel drawn to him. his eyes roam over you, and you sense that he's impressed by your appearance.
"where have you been?" he says, his voice tinged with amusement. "fashionably late, i see." urogi dressed for the occasion, comfortable in a nice button up and slacks.
you smile in response, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence. "i wanted to make an entrance," you say playfully. "and i'm glad i did. this place is amazing."
urogi remains close and you can feel the warmth of his body against yours. he turns to the bar and raps his knuckles against the counter, “oi, karaku. you just going to just stand behind the bar oe do work?”
you watch as a handsome man with emerald eyes approaches them, his lips pulled in a tight frown.
it's clear that this man is urogi's brother, and you can see the family resemblance in their sharp features and confident demeanor.
his lips pull in a taut frown as he regards urogi, “i’m meant to manage the staff. since you decided to invite the entire campus.”
karaku's gaze shifts to you and you feel a flutter in your chest. he's just as attractive as his brothers and his eyes seem to penetrate your soul. you can't help but feel a little intimidated by him, but also curious.
“hey, its good business, right?”
“you don't know the first thing about running a business.”
“at least i go to school to learn.”
“And someone how come out dumber.”
“oi—”
as the brothers continue to bicker, you can't help but feel a sense of fascination with this family. they're unlike anyone you've ever met.
as karaku's piercing gaze meets yours again, your heart quickens, and you feel a flush spread across your face. "you're aizetsu's friend," he states matter-of-factly, his voice low and smooth.
you blink, momentarily stunned, before realizing that you've lost sight of aizetsu in the exchange. you glance over your shoulder and see him still leaning against the bar, a picture of nonchalance.
"yeah, that's right," you reply, extending a hand in greeting. to your surprise, karaku accepts the gesture.
"well, what will it be then?" he asks, his tone businesslike.
"oh, i thought you were just managing," you say, trying to keep up with the conversation.
"i am," he replies, his eyes flitting to the busy staff behind the bar. "but since my staff is busy because of him, now i have to step in. your choice?"
you quickly order a simple drink, but karaku frowns at your request. "do you take recommendations?" he asks.
"um, sure," you say, feeling a bit out of your depth.
karaku turns and reaches for a bottle, his hands moving with fluid grace. you watch in awe as he expertly mixes the ingredients, turning a plain liquor into a colorful and vibrant concoction that perfectly matches the atmosphere of the club.
he sets the drink in front of you, and you take a hesitant sip. the taste explodes on your tongue, and you can hardly believe how delicious it is. you take another sip, relishing the complex flavors that dance across your taste buds.
"this is great, thank you," you say, smiling up at karaku.
the corners of his mouth lift in a small grin. "glad you like it."
you fumble for your wallet, but karaku turns away before you can offer to pay. "sorry, i have to go manage my brother's itinerary," he says, his voice fading as he disappears into the crowd.
you feel a hand on your shoulder, and you turn to see urogi at the retreating figure. "hey, you're welcome for the tips, asshole," he says, nudging you playfully.
you laugh, feeling lightheaded from the drink and the atmosphere of the club. it certainly wasn't your typical scene, but you were glad you came.
he gestures to your hand, and you realize that you're still holding your wallet. "you can put that away," he says, "we got you covered. you're a guest."
you feel a twinge of guilt at the thought of being treated, but you realize that it's too late to back out now. aizetsu seems to sense your hesitation, and he steps in to reassure you. "you can get the next one," he says with a smile. "you still owe me a treat, right?"
you nod, feeling grateful for the generosity. it's not often that you get to experience something like this, and you want to make the most of it. you take a deep breath and let the atmosphere of the club wash over you. you can feel your body relaxing, your mind clearing. this is exactly what you needed.
"great," you say, a smile spreading across your face. "now let's really get partying."
in response, urogi grins and you feel yourself being tugged away.
⚘. ⚘. ⚘.
urogi's hands on your waist felt both warm and secure, guiding you along with the rhythm of the music. the dance floor was alive with movement, bodies swaying and pulsing to the beat. you caught glimpses of colorful lights flashing overhead, illuminating the club in a vibrant glow.
aizetsu was still nearby, but his serene demeanor made it clear he wasn't there to party in the same as the others. when you had tried to get him to join, he waved you off, telling you to have fun. you wondered what was weighing on his mind, but decided to let it be for the night. this was a chance to let loose and have some fun, after all.
urogi's voice broke through your thoughts, drawing your attention back to him. "you know, aizetsu's not one to hang out with anyone. he must think highly of you."
you felt a flutter in your chest at the thought. aizetsu was someone you admired greatly, and to know he valued your company was a special feeling.
urogi continued to lead you in the dance, his movements smooth and practiced. "and karaku doesn't just give out recommendations to anyone either. he's a bit of a stickler for quality."
you laughed at the thought of karaku being a hard-to-please critic. it was clear he took pride in his craft, and his passion showed in the drinks he served.
“that just leaves sekido.” urogi’s grip tights as he pulls you to his front. “but I think your luck will carry you through.”
as the night wore on, you felt yourself letting go of any worries or stresses. the music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and the company was good. you were grateful for this moment of pure enjoyment, surrounded by friends old and new.
as you dance with urogi, you become lost in the rhythm of the music and the swirling colors of the lights. your movements flow effortlessly with his as he pulls you closer, his hands finding the curve of your waist.
you glance over at aizetsu, but he seems lost in his own world, his expression solemn and unreadable as he relaxes by the bar. when he catches your gaze, he raises a drink with an equally raised brow. 
as you try to slip away from urogi's grasp, you find yourself lost in the surreal atmosphere of the party. the thumping bass of the music seems to pulse through your veins as the neon lights cast a hypnotic spell over the crowd. the scent of sweat and perfume mingles in the air, creating a heady aroma that makes you feel intoxicated.
urogi's hold on your wrist is loose, but his chin rests heavily on your shoulder. you feel his warm breath on your neck, and it sends shivers down your spine. you glance over at aizetsu, who seems to be lost in thought as he sips his drink at the bar. you can't help but feel guilty for abandoning him, especially since he came here with you.
you pull against urogi's grip once more, and he reluctantly lets you go.
“you think it matters but it doesn’t. we’re different but we all appreciate the same thing. try not to think so hard about it.”
his words are cryptic, and you can't help but wonder what he meant by 'we'. who was he referring to? the other party-goers? you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts, but they remain jumbled and confused.
“urogi what—”
“urogi! finally, i’ve been stuck outside this whole time. why didn’t you come get me?”
just then, a whiny voice interrupts your musings. it's the girl from outside, and she seems to have managed to sneak in somehow. urogi greets her with a forced smile, but his grip on your wrist tightens once again. you can feel the tension in his body, and it makes you uneasy.
the girl's eyes flicker over to your joined hands, and you can see the jealousy simmering in her gaze. 
“who is this? didn't they come in with aizetsu?”
you're not sure how much more of this you can take, and you make another attempt to leave. but urogi pulls you even closer, his grip almost suffocating.
"sorry, we need a break," he says, and you can hear the irritation in his voice. you can feel your patience wearing thin as you try to extract yourself from his embrace, but he refuses to let go.
while you definitely agree with the statement, you weren't expecting to be pulled in the opposite direction of the bar. you can feel the tension in his muscles as he leads you towards a quieter corner of the club. the swaying throngs of people blur as you're led towards the next level of the club.
as you pass a red rope barrier, you realize it's a reserved section. the area is dimly lit, but you can make out a few plush couches and armchairs arranged around small tables. the air here smells different too, more luxurious and fragrant. not once does anyone move to stop you both. it's clear now that the club is not only managed by karaku, but also held some sort of ownership. 
you can't help but feel a sense of relief at the brief reprieve from the intensity of the party. you take a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the cool air against your flushed skin.
urogi's gaze meets yours and you can see a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. "i'm sorry about that," he says, his voice softening. "i wanted you to enjoy yourself, not feel overwhelmed."
you feel a pang of guilt at his words, realizing that you are indeed a stranger to all of this. but there's something about urogi's easy charm that puts you at ease.
“c’mon, i promised you a break.”
as urogi guides you into the room, the pulsing music fades away and the sounds of hushed voices and clinking glasses fill your ears. the dim lighting casts a warm glow on the faces of the people lounging around the room. your eyes immediately find aizetsu, who is leaning back against the couch, his drink held loosely in his hand. he must have slipped through the crowd at some point during the brief confrontation. 
“so they managed to get in.”
the voice is deep and smooth.this must be the final one, sekido. his presence commanded attention even from afar. as you approach him, you finally realize the last detail about him that you couldn't place before: his eyes are a piercing shade of vermillion, drawing you in with their intensity. he seems to have grown broader since you last saw him, his arms comfortably stretched over the back of the couch.
“hey, you saw them and didn't let them through? you ass.”
you glance up at urogi, who lets out a sigh as he leads you to the couch and positions you between himself and sekido. you can't help but wish that you were seated between him and aizetsu instead, but you push the thought aside. other than the initial comment, no one made you feel unwelcome.
"they weren't invited by me. apparently, you can thank aizetsu for doing it for you," sekido continues, a smirk playing on his lips.
urogi rolls his eyes and pulls you closer to him, his arm draped around your shoulders. "i can't believe you saw them all dolled up like this and didn't intervene on your own. i wouldn't have been able to resist."
sekido lets out a snort and reaches for his own short glass, taking a sip. "i hardly saw them. and i'm not you."
urogi's arm around you is both comforting and possessive, as if he's claiming you as his own. you're acutely aware of his body heat, the subtle movements of his muscles as he shifts to get more comfortable.
aizetsu, on the other hand, exudes an air of calm, his posture relaxed as he sips his drink. his eyes meet yours briefly and you detect a hint of amusement in his gaze.
sekido, with his broad shoulders and easy confidence, seems like the type of person functions as the foundation of the group. he lounges back against the couch with the careless grace of a panther, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. you can't help but feel a little intimidated by him, even though you know he means no harm.
you can feel the tension between the three of them, but you're too stimulated to fully comprehend it. you look around the room, searching for a distraction. "where is karaku?" you finally ask, trying to change the subject.
the man in question enters the room with a flourish, as if summoned, balancing bottles and glasses with practiced ease. you marvel at his skill, wondering how he manages to keep everything from spilling. the scent of rice wine fills the air as he sets the glasses down.
he apologizes for the plainness of the glass, but you don't mind at all. you're just grateful for the hospitality. urogi grumbles about karaku never wanting to meet his friends and you get the sense that there's a deeper tension between the two brothers.
you take a sip of the rice wine, savoring the complex flavors as they dance across your tongue. it's smooth and slightly sweet, with a subtle aftertaste that lingers in your mouth. 
“so what about you caught our brother’s interest?”
sekido's sharp gaze bores into you, and you feel yourself squirming uncomfortably under his scrutiny. his eyes seemed to be searching for something, but you couldn't decipher what.
you realize that befriending aizetsu had been quite an accomplishment. but you already partially knew that. the man was not one to socialize much, and you had to muster all your courage to approach him. you had always been anxious about approaching people, even those related to your studies, but something about aizetsu drew you to him.
as you recall the memories of your initial interactions with him, you can't help but smile. aizetsu wasn't the most talkative person, but over the months, he had opened up to you in ways you never expected. you liked being around him because it made him look less alone, but it was more than that. it was a two-way agreement, and he welcomed your presence, going as far as to save your seat when you became a regular.
"i just wanted to be his friend," you finally say, and that was the truth of it.
karaku's voice interrupts the silence that follows. "how cute."
you take another sip of your sake, trying to fill the void created by the unsaid words that were lingering in the air. the brothers around you slide into their own conversations, and you take a moment to observe your surroundings.
the room is dimly lit, casting an warm glow on the faces around you. the air is thick with the scent of sake and the gentle hum of conversation surrounds you like a warm embrace. you feel oddly secure, despite being surrounded by people you barely know.
around you, the air hums with the sound of the brothers' voices, blending together in a cacophony of chatter. it's both exhilarating and terrifying to be in the midst of such men, all of whom exude an aura of authority that's impossible to ignore. you glance down at the floor, where a pattern of intricate symbols is etched into the wooden planks. it's a reminder that you're sitting in their territory, and that fact isn't lost on you.
you're brought back to the present when you notice that your cup has been refilled, courtesy of karaku. the gesture is both generous and intimidating, as if he's reminding you of your place at the table. you take a sip of the drink, letting the liquid wash over your tongue and down your throat.
as you drink, urogi's arm slips back around your shoulders. his touch is surprisingly cool against the warmth of your skin, and you can't help but lean into it, relishing the sensation. you're not sure if it's the alcohol or the company, but you're starting to feel a little lightheaded.
urogi breaks the silence with a teasing question. "so, i want to hear more juicy details of why you like aizetsu. surely, i'm cuter."
you laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you. "aren't you all quadruplets? you all look the same."
urogi pouts, his lips twisting into a playful grimace. "oh, so you agree i'm attractive. but that also implies you don't see a difference between us. surely you can appreciate the polarity."
you squint, taking a closer look at urogi. out of all the brothers, he has the most boyish looks. "hmm, let me think," you say, pretending to deliberate. "i guess you do have a more youthful appearance, like aizetsu."
urogi grins mischievously. "oh, still too vague. let me give you something to compare." and with that, he leans forward and kisses you.
the sensation is both shocking and exhilarating. you're not sure what to do at first, but then you start to respond, letting yourself be swept up in the moment. urogi's lips are soft against yours, and his tongue teases yours playfully before he pulls away, leaving you breathless and flushed.
“so?”
for a moment, the air is heavy with the weight of what just happened. your dazed from the action, words thick on your tongue before you can finally manage,” i’ve … never kissed aizetsu.”
urogi’s gaze goes comically wide,” what? but you guys had such a nice date set up before.”
as urogi's words sink in, your mind races to catch up. you had never considered the possibility that your friendship with aizetsu could be interpreted as something open. the memory of your planned outing together suddenly feels like it's been cast in a new light, and you wonder if maybe you had been sending mixed signals all along.
“it wasn't a date… we were…” where were your words? 
but before you can even begin to sort through your thoughts, urogi's warm breath tickles your ear, and his words pull you back to the present. "were?" he asks, his voice teasing.
your heart flutters in your chest, and you feel a blush rising to your cheeks.
no, not were to imply something had changed.
because nothing had changed. you are—
you open your mouth to speak, but before you can find the words, karaku's voice cuts through the air like a knife.
"urogi, stop. you're confusing her."
you look up to see aizetsu seated across from you, his expression inscrutable. you can't tell if he's angry or hurt, but the tension in the air is palpable.
for a moment, you feel like you're drowning in a sea of emotions, unsure of which way to swim. you don't know what to say, or even if there's anything you can say to make things right.
as the silence stretches on, you become acutely aware of the atmosphere in the room. the low murmur of conversation from the other patrons of the bar seems to fade into the background, leaving only the sound of your own breathing ringing in your ears.
urogi pouts, “i just asked them a question.”
urogi's pout only adds to the surreal atmosphere, as if his expression alone were enough to challenge the laws of physics. aizetsu doesnt relent, “but you didn’t give them a fair sample to compare. you rushed ahead as usual.”
 the brothers continue their conversation, but you find it hard to focus on anything except the electricity that seems to be pulsing through the air.
rushed … ahead..?
just when you think things couldn't get any more intense, aizetsu leans over his brother to cup your face. you're taken aback by the sudden closeness, but before you can even process what's happening, his lips are on yours. the kiss is firm, yet gentle, and you feel your head spin as you lose yourself in the moment. this is the closest you've ever been to him, closer even than during your study sessions.
when he pulls away, you're left gasping for breath, still reeling from the experience. and then, just as suddenly, urogi turns on you. "so now you have a comparison. can you tell the difference?"
you can feel the weight of their gazes on you, but you can't bring yourself to face them. you're not sure if you're ready to handle the scrutiny, not after being kissed by both brothers in such a short span of time. it's all too much, too surreal, and you're struggling to find your footing in this strange new reality.
"look at that flush. now i'm intrigued, you found an interesting one, aizetsu."
you feel a rush of emotions as sekido's words weigh heavy on your mind. was that what they thought of you? were you just another classmate to take advantage of their brotherly bond? the thought makes your heart ache and you feel a sudden urge to leave, to preserve what little dignity you have left.
but before you can make a move, sekido's hand is on your arm, pulling you towards him.
“the two of you are still close from familiarity. they need an outlier to appreciate the variance.”
 you can feel the roughness of his calloused skin against your flesh, sending shivers down your spine. as he cranes your head up, you can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach at the intensity of his gaze.
"pay attention," he commands before dropping his mouth to yours.
sekido's kiss is ravenous and urgent, surpassing any notion of chastity as he devours your mouth. his tongue slips past your lips and explores every inch of your mouth with a hunger that takes your breath away. you try to match his intensity, but your chest heaves as you struggle to keep up with his passion. when he pulls away, your head spins from the sheer force of the kiss.
you're left dazed and disoriented, your mind racing with questions and doubts. how had this night come to this? to be caught in the middle of the brothers, playing with your affection? you can't help but feel like you're in over your head, unsure of where this unexpected turn of events will take you.
“well, suppose it's only fair, eh?”
as karaku approaches, you can feel the energy shift, a palpable tension in the air. his presence is suave, and you find yourself captivated by the way he moves, the way he carries himself with such confidence and grace.
he kneels before you, and you feel a jolt of expectation as he leans in to kiss you. the touch of his lips is electric, a subtle shock that ignites a fire within you. his kiss is practiced, but not cold - he leads you through a dance of passion, his movements sure and fluid, his touch light but commanding.
as he pulls away, you can feel your breath catch in your throat, your heart racing with a mixture of excitement and fear. you are unsure of what just transpired, of what it all means - but one thing is clear: this was no longer a simple game.
his thumb brushes across your lips, and you can feel the heat of his gaze as he looks into your eyes. his voice is low and seductive, a whisper that sends shivers down your spine.
"pretty, pretty," he murmurs. "so what do you think, are we so similar?"
1K notes · View notes
liaswills · 1 month
Text
Pick a card: A message from your past life self! 🪦🗡
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Hello darlings! Today I bring you another pick a card- I felt the need to bring out some messages. The energy today is very much revolving around death- and it's relatively natural relation to life. So today I will bring you a pick a card- with a message of what your past self would tell you! Naturally this is a general message so take whatever resonates. All the love, Elias!
Pick a pile from 1, 2, 3 or 4!
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Hello, my dear self. Some day you have wondered who you are- who you should become. But I want you to know that no matter whom you try to be- or whom you'll grow to believe says the right thing- it'll always be me whom you will come back to. I'm not scary. I'm you. I like to brace the horizon- with a smile and breathe in the morning air. I'm a morning person. I used to hunt birds- for food. And... truthfully- my life was never that long. I didn't get to experience my childhood as something I cherished. This is why you're not very good with people. I'm sorry that in this life- you too- struggle with being around crowds. You do- try to. Which is more than I ever did. I was more one with animals- nature- it's why... I never really got to be together with someone. Because I spent my life alone- you might feel like everyone hates you. Or suffer from anxiety everytime you try to make a friend- with your friends- or even the people you try to date or love. I'm sorry that this part of me- lingers- but no matter how it has manifested, it is what I desired most. Sometimes lives are so crowded that you just need one where you're by yourself. I did that already. You don't need to follow my example- because I want for you to flourish and be a butterfly. To do what I haven't. To be brave. To be bold. To dare. Dream. I know you think you're alone sometimes- but you're not! The spirits of all the animals I've taken care of- protect you still! It's amazing how loyal animals are. Yes- even your last pet. I know we have a special connection to animals- I know that we sometimes feel like they understand us- feel our energy- they do- but they won't create a depth in our emotional maturity and balance much like dramatic human relationships do. If you know me- you'd wish to have a life in social circles too. It wasn't fun. And I want to brace you to feel safe. To try and feel joy. To feel happiness. Try and do it when you can. Because that- will help me- and all of us before us. I'll be here to hug you. Because I'm your greatest supporter.
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Forgiveness, is what it takes. Forgive me. Forgive yourself. I'm not like you- nothing like you at all. I was vain. And cruel. And unkind. I didn't see what you see. I didn't- I couldn't. I couldn't see how people were able to be the exact same as the other- i couldn't see how every life was worth living. I killed for things. I cheated in life. I climbed the social ladders and I hurt my hands doing so. I really fell. I fell in the end and it was my ending. I didn't have a long life- because when I was found out- everything I worked for, was done for. I wanted to become better. I needed to be a better self. You don't. You don't need to do this. If you continue down this road- if you continue to try and improve- it won't make you happy. It won't make me happy either. I think it's time for us to forgive ourselves. Because sooner than later- we are all that we have. I've known this too late. Very late. You need to start appreciating the things you do have. The money you do have. The family you live with. The country you're in. The name you have been given. Consider it all. You're almost there- you're almost free of this crude self torture. Just one more step- release this attachment. Release your ideas of how things should be. Please allow yourself to just be. To just trust in me. To trust in you. In us. Trust that we can do it. That we can do whatever we set our minds to. You've inherited my determination- don't spoil it with waivering in uneasyness. Don't spoil my end- for your life to be worse than mine. Don't befriend toxic people. Don't walk towards the red flags. I need you to see. See whom you're talking to. See whom you share your mind with. See what you think of without your phone for an hour. I need you to feel yourself- to love yourself- to feel our own world is more than what you think it is and could be. Forgive me- I was never from your world- but I was the you- you needed to become whom you are now. Forgive me. I'm sorry.
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We aren't the same gender. I had to start with that. I've led a completely different existence based on my social norms and whom I was raised to become. If you're a fem energy- then I used to embody masculine. And vice versa. You might feel lingering touches of me- in the way that you can embody both energies. I want to say- I'm congratulating you- because I never dared or could. I lived very rigid. In a rigid place where I was expectant to preform a role in life. To be a provider- or a caretaker. I simply obeyed that life. I simply followed the norms. I don't want you to follow any norms other than your own. I fought bravely- I died gloriously- in battle- with a strong heart or perhaps not so strong considering it caved. I loved- I loved big. You inherited this. I loved my friends. My family. I even...loved another whom I couldn't be with. That longing for someone- I owe to you to release. I didn't really got the closure I needed. I didn't really tell this person- that my heart was theirs. And theirs alone. Yes- I've had children. I've done my duty- as was expected of me, but i didn't love my partner the way I loved this star crossed romantic ideal. It was an ideal. I never got to know them personally. It didn't matter. I liked to imagine what they would be like- and somehow that image of them was enough for me. I see you- I feel you, and your life is already so much more vibrant than mine. Thankyou! I truly- honestly, can say thank you. For being authentic- for truly honouring your own feelings. It doesn't matter what you become- or whom you'll chase- in the end, you've already done what you came here to do. For me- anyway. I think you're amazing. And you inspire me- and others, so much. So so so so so much. That truthfully- you should show yourself. To everyone. Haha. It isn't scary- remember your brothers- sisters- whom fought alongside you in the trenches- whom fought with you day and night to remain sovereign- to remain equal- to gain prowess and our voice back. Hang on Soldier- you have a long road to go. It'll be glorious- I can tell you that. From my point of view- your paving the way to a dream. I'll talk to you- in my mind- my world- my time- I talk to myself often actually, haha- but you will sometimes get more from talking to me too. Just... call me a friend you once were. And I'll be a friend to you too. It'll help greatly- I am indebted to you as much. Don't worry if you're not going to do it- I'm just here to give you the inspiration you need to get out there and flourish your shiny little way around the globe.
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My funny Valentine.... sweet comic valentine....you make me smile, with my heart. Listen to "My funny valentine" by Chat Baker or Frank Sinatra, because I am giving you this song as I look upon you darling. I know sometimes we don't truly like ourselves. But you don't need to become someone else to love whom you truly are. Because you already do- trust me- the whole of you- all of us- all of your lives- we love you as you are and will continue to do so fiercely. Honestly- we were wild. I was wild. Haha. I was a bit freakishly in love with everyone. Gradually- that changed a little into a more tamed version of loving and being. But you inherited a spark of love for loving. Maybe... still a little unfooted- but, priceless either way. Truly- priceless to see. I know you think some things are scaring you- but they aren't truthful. It isn't real. It's hard to have trust in that but just trust me. Trust you. I am nothing but a charmy and flourishing lovely cottonball. Haha- joking! But we all are a little vixenous sometimes, right? Perhaps you will see me when we go out, that I enter your mind more and you become more me than I become you. Channel the spirit of the sex! Baby! Who did you think you were!? Don't say you're ashamed... I was truly... a heartbreaker but I am kind? That counts for something right. Hmmmm, what to tell you. I haven't really got a message for you. To be honest I think we're currently on our recreational life. Just do whatever you want dearie. I've got no problem with it. But... do tell your mother something like- love you, when you leave. I know! People, right!? Strange creatures. But you will come to know the greatest of people. The biggest. Bestest. Friends. Ever. Haha- woooooo! I am excited already for you. Anyway- lovely for you to think of me- I always imagined myself to be a celebrity in your life so who knows!? Did we.... do it? Oh who knows! Maybe that's just a fantasy. But romantizing life is what we're made for so- go ahead. Think and imagine and write away. Poetry is lovely. I find you adorable. And if you continue- we might find some treasures along the way.
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spiderfunkz · 8 months
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✧.* THE STATUE OR ME ?
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— summary : natasha gets jealous over a statue.
— word count : 0,3k
— warnings : fluff, fem!reader, established relationship, a kiss on the cheek, reader being a tease, not proofread.
a/n : inspired by this one prompt i found somewhere with my own spin on it. my requests for natasha are open so please request some prompts !! sorry this ones short lolz
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the museum was cold as you dig your hands deeper into your pockets. natasha was standing beside you, her hands wrapped around your waist.
the museum room was filled with all kinds of art. realism, surrealism, sculptures, pottery, expressionism. everything was so beautiful and eye-catching for you. you love art, you love learning about it, seeing it, and even doing it.
though, natasha didn't think the same as you. she went there to make you happy and to keep you company. she didn't know much about art, but she does know that you in fact, absolutely love it. but that doesn't change the fact that she's cold, and that she feels out of place.
inching closer to you, natasha looks up to see the statue you have been admiring. "wow. inspiring, captivating even." you say in a flat tone.
natasha groans, "can we go to another part of the museum? i rather not look at naked statues from 1,000 years ago." she turns to you.
"you just don't appreciate it the way i do." you shrug. "there is no statue in this world that deserves this much attention from you." she states.
"just look at the way his hands are wrapped around his neck. i bet his name is lucas, or maybe gary. he looks like a gary." you joked, natasha was not amused.
"it sounds like you're in love with gary."
"eh, a little bit."
"why don't you just date gary then?" she suggests. "are you getting jealous over a statue, nat?" you let out a chuckle.
"no." she shook her head. "you're pouting." you point out. "no, i'm not." she quickly answers.
"for what it's worth, my type is human, alive. not stone, dead." you explain. "you've given gary more compliments than me." she pouts.
"fine, i like your hair and smile. where as gary does not have hair, and he does not have a smile." you cross your arms, "and if he did have a smile, i bet it won't be as lovely and bright as yours." you added.
natasha smiles. "see, there it is!" you kiss her on the cheek. "i'm glad you think this highly of me." natasha's mood seemed to become better. "and the implication that bald people are statues." she added.
"if you were a statue though..."
"i'm never taking you to a museum ever again." she sighed.
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mulletmitsuya · 2 months
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Tokyo Revengers Groupchat (Final Timeline)
Warnings: suggestive (i might have to change this warning to "mentions of sexual content" bcs it's too tame of a warning for the stuff that's actually in here), swearing, the word "pedophile" is mentioned, mentions of substance abuse
Desc: Everyone finds out Takemitchy and Mikey are time leapers, which leads to some...interesting questions
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Mitsuya: so let me get this straight
Mitsuya: you're a time traveler, and you've lived dozens of timelines to prevent Hina from dying but she kept dying anyway but then when you got to one where she didn't die, Mikey was some deranged criminal lord and was miserable and depressed and tried to kill himself so you had to go back in time again to make sure everything was fixed but ended up dying while fighting Mikey but then somehow you both went back in time and rewrote all of our entire lives??
Takemitchy: yeah...
Baji: cap
Mikey: it's not
Mitsuya: so Mikey's a time traveler too?
Mikey: yeah it's crazy i know
Draken: do you guys have any way to prove this?
Chifuyu: this explains why i keep getting random visions of me in alternate universes. holy shit
Haruchiyo: weird ass prank
Takemitchy: i think it happened since you're close to me and we basically did everything together. i'm not sure
Inupi: we're just gonna believe this?
Koko: wait, i kind of do
Kisaki: this...defies all logic of anything ever.
Mikey: shut up Kisaki
Mikey: i'm sorry it's just that in ever other timeline you've ruined my life so it's difficult to be nice to you sometimes
Kisaki: so you don't like me because of something i did in another universe?
Takemitchy: *timeline
Mikey: yeah. my bad
Baji: i'm gonna entertain this cause i'm bored but what was i like in other timelines
Mikey: dead
Baji: ...all of em?
Mikey: yeah, it kinda drove me to insanity
Baji: damn
Baji: why?
Mikey: you killed yourself to save Kazutora
Baji: what was the context
Mikey: long story
Baji: there wasn't any other way?
Mikey: you're kinda pissing me off cause that's what i was wondering, actually
Baji: damn
Kazutora: thanks man. appreciate it🙏
Kazutora: i'll slobber on your meat later, as a proper thank you
Baji: i'd appreciate that. thanks homie🙌
Koko: what about me?
Baji: you wanna slobber on my meat? i mean i won't stop you. as long as i can call you kitten.
Koko: ...i was talking about me in alternate universe's😐
Takemitchy: i don't think we should go there guys. there's too many timelines, and not everything was exactly the same. and also in general it was a really traumatizing experience for me and i kind of want to end my life every time i think about it
Hanma: womp womp. what about me???
Mikey: murderer
Hanma: YESSSSS 😭😭😭😭😭
Hanma: THANK GOD, I KNEW IF I COULDN'T DO IT HERE, MULTIVERSE ME WOULD HAVE LIVED THE DREAM
Hanma: are me and Tetta-san together in every universe
Mikey: surprisingly, yes
Hanma: and he denies we're soulmates😔
Kisaki: i will not hesitate to get another restraining order
Hanma: a piece of paper won't stand in my way. let's get married
Kisaki: i will call the police
Draken: guys are we really entertaining this?
Mikey: you went to jail in one of the timelines and you were bald LMAO
Draken: sure
Baji: why'd he go to jail?
Mikey: these guys killed Emma and Ken-chin took revenge
Baji: respectable
Mikey: he was given a death sentence
Baji: that's tough fr
Ran: i'm kinda curious
Ran: humour me, what was i like?? was i famous?
Mikey: you were a criminal. killed people
Ran: sounds about right if i'm being honest
Ran: and Haruchiyo and Rindou?
Haruchiyo: leave me out of Takemitchy's psychotic episodes
Haruchiyo: i think you have a hallucination/delusion disorder or something
Mikey: but don't you believe me?
Haruchiyo: ...
Haruchiyo: Mikey, you're also pretty mentally ill
Mikey: says you???
Haruchiyo: i just have substance abuse problems and i'm getting clean so...
Mikey: GUYS I'M TELLING THE TRUTH I SWEAR
Mikey: I'VE BEEN GOING CRAZY KEEPING THIS A SECRET
Draken: when was the last time you slept?
Mikey: ☹️
Baji: guys just play pretend.
Rindou: what about me?
Mikey: same as your brother just uh, less gay and slutty?
Rindou: story of my life
Inupi: you didn't do Koko
Mikey: criminal
Koko: the whole time?
Mikey: yeah
Mikey: Inupi got normal at some point because he and Ken-chin got close and they fixed bikes together and had sex
Inupi: Draken????
Draken: you're really starting to piss me off.
Mikey: Akane died in the fire though like she was BURNT
Takemitchy: uh Mikey-kun...
Mikey: she was a crisp i'm telling you
Mikey: Inupi you had an ugly red scar on your face and no one wanted you
Mikey: Izana i know you're reading this, you were fucking insane dude like you killed Emma for some fucking reason then Kisaki shot you 3 times in the chest and you died while having a really bad mental breakdown. it was a major L on your part
Chifuyu: Mikey why are you leaving out the fact that the common denominator in every single timeline was that you killed every single one of your friends in the most brutal ways possible🤨?
Mikey: no comment
Smiley: how'd he kill me?
Chifuyu: uhhh
Chifuyu: Takemitchy help me out here
Takemitchy: i don't want to talk about it😐
Chifuyu: I REMEMBER
Chifuyu: backshot
Smiley: ...
Smiley: he killed me by giving me backshots..?
Smiley: i would NEVER take it from behind
Smiley: especially from MIKEY
Smiley: small dick having ass
Smiley: my bootyhole is not to be messed with
Smiley: i'm so pissed off right now holy shit
Smiley: how did i even die???? dick so good it killed me?
Smiley: i'm so angry
Angry: and i'm Smiley😂
Baji: 3/10 joke 👎, poor delivery, fell flat
Smiley: i hope you kill yourself, Mikey
Mikey: trust me, i've tried
Chifuyu: ???
Chifuyu: he shot you in the back with a gun?
Chifuyu: what's wrong with you
Smiley: oh my bad i though you meant like, he was taking me doggy style
Smiley: i'm no bottom
Ran: what is happening
Chifuyu: i'm moving on😐
Chifuyu: Hakkai was tied to a chair and burnt to death
Hakkai: wha-
Hakkai: WHAT DID I DO??
Hakkai: jesus 😟
Chifuyu: why am i getting all these memories, i'm freaking out
Hakkai: Mikey please tell me what i did to deserve that ☹️
Mikey: idk Hakkai i was going through a lot
Draken: have you been diagnosed with anything?
Mikey: i don't need a diagnosis bcs i'm fine now, you're all alive and i don't have any murderous intent!!! yippee🤗
Mikey: isn't this great Takemitchy??
Takemitchy: well, yeah no ones dead so that's great
Izana: this is obviously completely fabricated
Izana: are you guys that bored?
Senju: man for all that time traveling you sure are a shit boyfriend😭
Takemitchy: how????
Takemitchy: did Hina say that☹️??
Senju: it's an observation
Senju: you've had way too many coincidental close calls with other woman💀
Draken: yeah you pissed me off when you thought i was gifting you a prostitute. you had a whole ass girlfriend. shame on you
Senju: and you also almost slept with Emma and you "don't remember"
Smiley: Mitchy's low-key funny as hell because what do you mean you stripped yourself and another girl down to your underwear by accident
Baji: wouldn't Takemitchy be a pedophile then?? Emma was 13 dawg🤨
Mikey: he was 14 though😭
Baji: you're gonna ride Takemitchy's dick to defend him from trying to sleep with your 13 year old sister??? crazy
Baji: wasn't be mentally 26🤨?
Baji: bro i'm gonna beat your ass actually
Mikey: hmm
Mikey: you know what Mitchy, why did you do that 🤨?
Smiley: LMFAOO
Mitsuya: why did i come back to Takemitchy facing pedophile allegations, like what's going on right now
Kazutora: is it not enough that he changed the space and time continuum just to be with his girl?
Kazutora: cheating this cheating that, my boy deserves all the pussy he wants
Kazutora: he's been beaten, shot, stabbed AND killed
Kazutora: i personally believe he's the goat
Baji: ?
Chifuyu: goat is an acronym for "greatest of all time", Baji-san
Baji: what's an acronym
Chifuyu: i'll dm
Kazutora: bro you're so fucking stupid😭
Draken: i don't care if he was skinned alive by an orangutan, there's no excuse to cheat on someone
Rindou: i think being skinned alive by an orangutang warrants having more than one girl. idk that's just me tho
Ran: not the point that's being made rn
Rindou: what exactly is the point that's being made
Rindou: is this real. are we being serious.
Rindou: i don't think i get the joke
Haruchiyo: i think we should all stop talking now
Mikey: Mitchy we need to talk a bit
Takemitchy: i told you this was a bad idea
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Dirty Work 28
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: lmaooooo this is my ultimate mental breakdown in fic form.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Mr. Laufeyson's grip on your wrist grows tighter as he drags you to the stairs. You stumble after him as he ascends, haughtily keeping a step ahead as you struggle to keep up. As you get to the top, you latch onto his arm, trying to slow him. He ignores you as the heels you still wear scuff on the floor.
"Mr. Laufeyson," you murmur.
"Be quiet," he snaps, "you are not to speak."
He marches into the bedroom and yanks you in after him. He kicks the door shut as he points you to the bed. You gulp and sit at the foot, meekly staring at the toes of the beige heels.
"I want you to listen and understand me." He begins, "look at me."
Your eyes flick up and you clench your jaw tight. 
"That is not suitable behaviour. I don't care how much you've imbibed, you are not to touch or be touched by anyone but me. That is our agreement, yes?"
You nod as your lower lip pokes out just a little.
"I really want you to hear me," he steps closer, bending to meet your eye line, "I do not tolerate disloyalty and it will not be forgiven a second time."
"Mr. Laufeyson," you croak, "I didn't... I didn't kiss her, she kissed me--"
"And you let her," he sneers, "you are not some helpless fawn. We are past that, yes? You cannot go on letting yourself be passed around like a used toy."
You recoil, pouting deeper at the pang in your chest. Isn't that what he's done? What he continues to do? To use you?
His cheek ticks and he blinks, tension releasing as the stitch between his brows eases. He stands straight, hands on his hips and sighs, "don't look at me like that."
"Like what?" You babble in a wobbly voice.
"Don't," he points at you.
"I'm not doing anything," you nearly sob.
"I will not feel sorry for you, quit it. You are the one who's done wrong."
You bat your lashes. You don't understand. You're just sitting there.
"You won't make me feel bad for your misdeeds," he turns and paces to the side, stopping as he looks back at you again, "stop."
You shake your head and look around.  You lower your chin and swing your feet over the side of the bed. You watch them bounce, feeling the springs below you. He huffs as he spins and continues his agitated cycle back and forth. You peek up at him as his lips move in silent monologue.
He's kind of silly when you think of it. So uptight and yet you've seen that other side of him. Almost desperate, like a puppy begging for a treat. You don't know why you didn't see it sooner. But now, he mopes like a dog cast outside.
You giggle. Quietly at first, and it gets louder, tickling up your throat. He stops and faces you, tilting his head curiously.
"What?" He hisses.
One last guffaw bubbles up and you cover your mouth. You shake your head and wiggle your shoulders, "nothing."
"Something must be amusing."
"Nothing," you repeat, "Mr. Laufeyson," you drop your hand, cheeks still bulbed in a barely restrained smile, "I promise, I just... I feel funny."
"Mmm, yes, wine," he tisks, "let's not venture down that road often."
You let out another snort and stop yourself. You cringe at him, showing your teeth, "sorry."
"What are you laughing at?" He narrows his eyes.
"It is only... you're so proper but... but you're not really," your lips tug at the sides as your skin burns. You shouldn't have said it aloud.
"Not proper?" He echoes and nears you again, thumbs hooking in his pants pockets, "what about me isn't proper?"
You shrug and look away. You don't say anything. It isn't one thing, really.
He hums and it deepens to a growl. Suddenly, he grabs your chin and forces your head straight. He makes you look at him as he bends, "you're not incorrect. I can be... improper."
He shoves you down to your back and you gasp. In an instant, he pushes your legs apart with his and kneels on the mattress. He leans over you as his hand firms on your throat.
"Especially," he touches the flouncy fabric around your thighs, "when you wear skirts like this."
"Mr. Laufeyson," you breathe.
He grins as his eyes sparkle like gems, "oh yes, I am feel very improper," he tugs the fabric from under his knees, "so improper, it hurts."
He slips his hand under your skirt and your thighs twitch, "it throbs and I can hardly control myself as I ache to let out all those improper thoughts." He pushes two fingers against your cotton panties and you squeak, "to unleash them upon your soft flesh," he pushes against you, prodding firm so pressure tingle in your core, "to delve..." he leans in closer, "deep inside."
"Mr..." you begin, pushing on his shoulders, "please..."
"Where was all this when she was on you, hm?" He snarls as his nose brushes yours, "I dare say, you enjoy playing the little slut."
You gasp and clasp the fabric of his shirt. He presses his lips to yours, smothering you as you squirm helplessly. His tongue invades your mouth and you nearly choke. His fingers rub your panties, building heat in your flesh. You writhe, splayed under him as he rocks his pelvis against the back of his hand.
You whimper around his tongue, trapped beneath him as you grasp at his sleeves and push on his chest. He won't budge. You close your eyes, trying to calm your nerves, trying to give in. That's what you're supposed to do so why can't you?
His hips tilts harder into his hand as he continues to tease you, the burning sensation turns tingly as a moan slips from you. You arch your back as your body tenses. You can't help but long for more as a fullness consumes you, building as he swirls his fingers faster and faster. The bed shakes with his frantic motion as his mouth slips down your cheek.
He puffs and growls against your earlobe. You whine as you bend your legs, digging the heels into the blankets without a care. The feeling is too much, unlike anything you've felt before, more than you ever inspired in your aimless explorations of yourself.
He groans and nuzzles into your neck, nipping as he grows more raucous in his tending. Simulating more as he teethes and sucks at your skin. He bites down on the muscle of your shoulder as your breath grows rampant and you moan and murmur.
He unlatches from you and rasps into your skin, "that's it, pet." His breath dampens the crook of your neck, "must I remind you who you belong to?"
You gulp and hiccup, the fluttering of your core turning to a vibrant thrum. You squeak as you feel a snap inside and you spasm as you crest the peak. You dig your fingertips into his chest as you ride the thrilling high and slowly come down, going limp as his touch relents, thought his hand lingers between your legs.
He lifts his head, his hair askew, and frames your face with his longer fingers. His nostrils flare as he hovers his lips just above yours, "you are mine, pet, don't forget again."
He nips your lower lip before consuming you in another greedy kiss. You're too dizzy, drunk, and dumb to stop him.
Mr. Laufeyson leaves you as you are, legs bent over the end of the bed, dazed and staring at the ceiling. It's slightly degrading but you're too weak to move. Too stunned by what he did. By how it felt.
It's a good thing isn't it, to enjoy it too. It should be and yet, you can't help but doubt everything. Him, especially. You don't trust yourself to trust him. Once he has everything he wants, will he even care? That question stings and has you sitting up.
You fold over your lap and groan. Your head hurts.
You have no delusions. You're not special. You'll never be that. Heck, your own father doesn't even want you. Stop. It's just the alcohol getting to you.
You stand and the skirt falls straight. Your eyes droop heavily. You could fall asleep on your feet. You go to the window and peer out at the front lawn, you see the end of Ronan's truck just past the eaves. You haven't even said hello. It's Monday and you haven't even started cleaning!
You go to the door but the handle doesn't turn. You wiggle it, jiggling the door as you try to rip it out of the frame. Not again! You hit the door with your fist but think better of yelling. Mr. Laufeyson can't expect much if he's going to keep you locked up.
You back away and turn to the room. You look around. Like really take it in, every inch. You recall the first day you walked up to this place, it seemed so magical and fantastical. The first mansion you'd ever seen up close. Then the inside, even more amazing. It still is but you never really took the time to appreciate it. There was always something to distract you.
And you live here now. Kind of. For a while, at least.
Doubt swirls around you. What happens after? This won't last forever. What then? Of course, you can't stay. You'll go back and apologise to your dad, things can be what they were. Or close to. Your dad will always be your dad.
Thinking just makes your head pulse. So you try not to. You return to the window and stare out, longing to go down and smell the flowers, touch the lush leaves waving in the wind. To just pretend for a little bit that you're free.
You barely remember sitting down or falling asleep. You wake on the edge of the bed, curled up facing the window as the sun sets beyond. You hug yourself in the dim light and blink away the sleep in your eyes.
There's a soft scratch from behind you. You notice the door is open and peer over your shoulder cautiously. Mr. Laufeyson sits against the headboard, his eyes pinpointed on the book in his hands. You gasp as he arches a brow.
"Um," you gurgle and roll onto your back, stiffly sitting up, "Mr. Laufeyson."
"Ah, there she is," he says dryly without looking away from the pages.
"I'm sorry, I..." 
"Yes, yes, wine in the morning does spoil the day," he muses drolly.
"I didn't mean--"
"Yes, yes, you keep saying how you don't mean anything," he closes the book and rests it on his lap, "as you didn't mean to mewl like a cat as I pet you, yes? Let's not pretend you are so innocent.”
You frown and go to turn away. In an instant he has a vice on your arm, pulling you back as his fingertips jab into you painfully. You whimper and face him again.
“I didn't say go,” he grits.
“Sorry–”
“Shh,” he puts a finger to your lips, “I don't want you to talk. You listen, that is your duty, yes?”
You nod, choked with humiliation. He lets you go and folds his hands over the book on his lap. He pushes his shoulders back and sits up straight.
“You will get up and go to the end of the bed,” he demands.
You obey without hesitation. You climb off the bed and take tiny steps around the bed, still wearing the shiny heels. You turn to face him and stare at the mattress.
“Head up. Eyes on me,” he orders, “you see, pet, we must train you as you seem to forget yourself.”
You open your mouth and quickly shut it. You stare at him, wide-eyed.
“Take that off.” You look around and he hums disapprovingly, “uh uh. Me.”
Your eyes snap back to him and you quiver. You touch the skirt, slowly balling your hands around the fabric. Your throat constricts in horror.
“You know how I feel about repeating myself,” he girds. 
You look down but quickly pop your head back up before he can reproach you. You run your hands up to blouse and toy with the hem. You shudder and lift it just a few inches, freezing as you fight to go further 
“Trust me when I say you do not want me to do it myself,” he scoffs, “don't play coy with me now.”
Your mouth draws to a tight line and you gnaw on your lower lip. You raise the fabric higher, exposing the unpadded cotton of your bra. The blouse catches on your chin before you wriggle free.
You lower it in between your hands and reluctantly let it fall to the floor before you. Your hands fidget and find the waist of the skirt. Your eyes flit to the wall and immediately back to Laufeyson as a growl crawls up his throat.
You reach back and unbutton the clasp. Your hand shakes on the zipper, tugging it down bit by bit. Mr. Laufeyson doesn't waver, his eyes fixed on you. Just on your face.
The fabric slackens and falls away from your hips. You stand in only the underwear and the heels. You teeter and step out of the shoes. You stare back at him expectantly.
“You're not done,” he slithers, his eyes clinging to yours darkly.
You blanch and let your mouth fall open. You'd never been naked in front of anyone. Ever.
Your hands go numb and move on their own. You can't deny his gaze or his tone. You reach back to unhook your bra and gulp loudly as you unbend your arms and it falls off your chest. You squeak and watch it fall.
He clears his throat and you look at him. You forgot. Your fingers trace the band on your underwear and you push your thumbs beneath. You bend little by little as you shove them down.
You feel your chest swell forward with the movement as your underwear dip to your ankles. You stand straight and kick them away. You cant help but hide yourself with your arms.
“No,” he growls.
You put your arms straight and let out a pathetic noise. His gaze clings to your far just a little longer before slowly descending. You shiver as you see the smoke in them. He lets the book fall off his lap as his eyes rove your figure.
He smirks, “see, it isn't hard to be good.”
241 notes · View notes
bbanghiitomi · 7 months
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| always by your side!
synopsis: forced to change companies, your dream of being an actress and all your hard work has been washed away, but for some reason even with the events that have unfolded you find yourself thanking the gods above for bringing you to haerin.
— idol!khaerin × 6thmember!fem!reader
(⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ(⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ(⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ(⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭
you lift your head from the table, dreading the idea of the upcoming news from the manager of the class you're currently at. you were updated that there might be changes in the company, you're one of the trainees for voice acting and there's rumors surrounding the company that they might send trainees to a korean entertainment label. if you were older than you are today, you wouldn't be that bothered by the news — but that's not the case, you were one of the youngest and current trainees for acting lessons. you knew that the company might be thinking that you are not gonna be much of a big loss to them, but you were desperate to prove them wrong.
yet, it seems a little too impossible as you shuffle on your seat. you raise yourself up from the chair and take deep breaths, your eyes spot the familiar face of the manager and an expression of grimace engulfed your face.
"don't take this a little too hard y/n, i know you've only been here for a few months but you're already attached to everyone." you nod but in all honesty you really can't process whatever the ceo was saying, it's hard to imagine the changes of pace and environment — who knows what kind of people she'll be seeing there?
"i heard i would end up on a different route if i was to be sent to that company. i signed up to be an actress — don't you think it's cruel for me to end up taking a whole different career?" you tell him but he stays head strong, only staring at your puppy eyes.
he sighs and puts a hand on his forehead.
"i know, i know. even i think it's cruel for the ceo to decide something like that, but we're in deep trouble. this is the only way to save the other trainees and don't you see the positive side? a job like being an idol is a very flexible job, you can do it all at once." he explains but you want to disagree, you don't want to do all things at once.
but it's too late, isn't it?
it really is, you realize as you sat at the office of ador entertainment. all your bags and luggages have been sent inside the shared dorm of your future co-member's, the girls were as confused as you were.
"oh, it's you y/n." you hear the sound of shoes getting closer and as you look up, your eyes meet with your new ceo — min heejin. you can only smile at her, not so confident as you try to look for a piece of yourself to show off.
"good morning." you tell her, actually she isn't so bad, this isn't your first meeting with her — you remember how shallow your brain was that day, it was a nerve wracking moment for you.
"i'm sorry once again about how sudden the news has been, but i hope you know i'm grateful you accepted it with honesty for yourself. i've given you ample time to decide and you still agreed, i hope you won't change your mind anymore." you appreciate her thoughts but there really isn't any choice left for you to choose, this is just about to be your fate and you're bound to accept it no matter how much you hated it.
you smile at her, not that sincere but you were trained for this.
"oh, i guess i realized that a part of me may have been meant for this. who knows right?" you shrug at her and she returns it with a bright grin.
"i'm so happy, i hope you know why i chose you out of all the trainees there. it's not just because there was no one left but because i think you're the perfect fit, there's something i see in you that i think you don't see in yourself." she says, you're starting to think she's sugarcoating it — because the last time you checked the circumstances it just seems like your old company was in deep debt and needed a sacrificial lamb to pay for it; which turned out to be you.
you chuckle, don't really know whether to believe or not; but it doesn't matter anymore.
"oh really? i personally think that's such a nice thing to say, almost a little too nice." you tell her but she was unfazed, you can see that she's really holding on to her words, like she meant it and that it was genuine.
you cannot interfere.
"yes, i'm quite excited because i'm sure the girls would love you. who wouldn't? i have so much high hopes for you and the future of newjeans, you all would be a hit. everyone will love newjeans." you can't even get mad at how happy heejin looks right now, maybe this is just really her passion.
yeah sure the girls would love you, but how about you? you gloat about the idea of being in a group, you don't want to work with people, the idea of being dragged down or dragging people down sucks. and think about the burden that it is to work with multiple people, you hated that idea.
after all, you've always been alone.
"i don't really know about that, i'm pretty sure they're acquainted with each other and are close but how about me?" you find yourself immediately fiddling with your finger, for some reason you don't know why too but a part of you is quite intimidated of what was coming your way. strangers, new people, new places and a new environment.
"don't worry, the girls are nice and well behaved, they are well put and have manners. if anything, i'm quite confident you'll like them. i gave minji all the instructions needed for tonight."
oh right, you're moving inside the dorm tonight. and you wonder what the girls are thinking.
"i'm excited! i wonder what type of person she is, i mean from the sound of it i'm already expecting that she's very cool." hanni does a finger gun towards danielle's direction, earning a small laugh from the girl as they make their way to the living room. the four girls all sit on the couches around the room, haerin's eyes traces along the floor to the bags and luggages hanging by the corner of the place.
"honestly, all i want is to see her already. i want us to be friends as soon as possible!" danielle beams, minji nods and clasps her hands together, worried but at the same time excited. they didn't have that much information regarding the new addition to the group, all they got from heejin is small details, like she's kind and cute.
it's enough to get the girls going except from a certain feline-like member.
haerin is nervous.
she's been thinking about this since yesterday, laying on her bed she can't get the thought of you finally coming face to face with them, it's been keeping her up since the day it was announced.
she wanted everything perfect the moment you step a foot inside, the place is clean, every nook and cranny, the members look presentable, there should be food already ready, not a delivered food but home cooked meals. haerin does not know why she feels like this but she wanted to make a good impression for the first day.
she's usually lazy, but tonight she made sure everything was in order so that not even the members could notice her weird behavior.
"are you okay haerin?" hyein asks, leaning on the couch while raising a brow at the older girl, haerin nods and makes her way to the kitchen to check the cookies she baked with danielle.
haerin is shy, she tries her best to communicate but sometimes it's very hard, this causes her social life to sometimes be in a rumble, because she's not very talented in talking to people. as someone who is happy to welcome you in the dorm, she's scared she might mess it up because of how awkward and quiet she is.
"haerin~ what are you doing there?" hanni sneaks behind the taller girl and puts her hands on haerin's shoulders. the younger girl is quick to turn her head. "u-uh hey."
hanni laughs and rubs haerin's shoulders. "are you nervous, you seem out of it since yesterday. always so skittish but worse, something bothering you?" hanni asks, smiling at the kang who lets out a small breath but does not reply.
haerin shifts her eyes away, she intertwines her fingers with each other, pursing her lips. "i'm just nervous." haerin whispers, gaining a soft laugh from hanni who then hugs her side. "oh really? you really want this night to be good for her, right?" hanni asks, rubbing her hand on haerin's forearm. haerin couldn't help but blush. "yeah, i didn't really want to say it but — we have to make sure she feels nice and comfortable here with us."
hanni squeals. "gosh haerin you're so adorable. we also think that way, i mean she's going to be our new addition, we'll be together for a long time."
haerin laughs. "i'm just so bothered, i couldn't stop thinking about it for almost a week. i don't want her to dislike me for being awkward." hanni shakes her head and hits haerin gently. "oh come on, she's going to love you like we do. you're like the most adorable girl ever, and you're like a cute cat. i trust our ceo with her choice, she's going to be good. i promise."
when you step a foot inside for the first time, you couldn't help but notice the very warm atmosphere inside the living room. it was empty when you came in with heejin and the smell of fresh food came wafting around the air.
"seems like the girls are busy, i'm going to check on them." you nod at heejin and smile at her. you like how clean the living room is, the colors are nice and the interior is very welcoming. you make your way to one of the couches and take a seat, the mattress sinking with your weight above. your hands are on your knees, you caress your lap to prepare yourself.
"here they are." you look up to see the girls, one by one they come inside with two of them carrying a tray of snacks and the other has water. you stand up and greet them, awkwardly pushing your hands out for a handshake, in which the oldest took oh so eagerly.
"i'm kim minji." her round eyes meets yours, her thick eyebrows take your attention and you can't help but smile at her.
"hi i'm pham hanni! i'm so happy to finally see you!" the shortest girl says, her hands are soft and gentle.
"i'm marsh danielle! you look really amazing! i'm so happy i can just melt on the spot." you laugh at her. "please don't." you mutter with a bit on your bottom lip.
haerin takes a step forward and brushes her hands on her clothes as if dusting the dirt away.
she anxiously takes your hands and shake them, you can't help but notice the way it trembles under your touch and you worry she might be sick the way her face is almost as red as a tomato — her feline-like eyes can't keep themselves from shifting away.
"i— uhm, my name… i'm kang haerin." she whispers but audible enough for you. you like her voice, the most.
you pull your hands away and you see haerin checking her own hands, her irises looks like she's checking out the lines on her palm.
a pair of hands takes yours and shakes them violently. "oh my god! it's really you! i'm so happy! i'm lee hyein!" the tallest girl says, your eyes examine her plum lips and sharp eyes.
you let go of her and gave her a small nod, she's adorable. yeah, you can say they're not that bad overall but… still, you have to make sure — you don't want to live with them for 5+ years still feeling uncomfortable.
the first few days consist of going around the dorm, training and just sitting together eating lunch and dinner.
you like minji the most, you appreciate her mature thinking, she's someone who knows when to be serious and when to joke around. you realize that she's very reliable, like a rock to lean on when the land tilts.
danielle is someone who you can trust when it comes to advice, she's someone who knows her words and has a holistic thinking approach in every situation. she looks on the bright side and sees the bigger picture, always positive and smiling.
haerin is awkward and quiet. but among all the members, she's the one who you're sure can understand you the most.
you like how she doesn't talk a lot when you're alone with her, it's not like you hate when hanni and hyein does it but sometimes, you need a quiet time too. you can tell that she knows you're getting yourself used to the new places, she's always right behind you.
you don't hate her presence, but it's not like you love it too.
things are really awkward with her, it's almost like she gets really skittish when you get near her, her face is always a different shade of red, her eyes are always everywhere but yours.
it makes you double guess if she hates you or not, but to say hate would be too much — maybe she's not used yet?
that must be it.
"hey haerin, can you pass me the remote?" you ask haerin, you look at her there's a small meter separating you and her on the couch. your eyes scan her bothered expression while she reads a book very attentively.
you want to reach for the remote yourself but her figure is blocking the view of the remote from your position. you scoot close to her and clear your throat in order to get her attention. "haerin?"
she doesn't reply. you scoot once again, your shoulder touching hers. haerin shuffles on her seat almost immediately as your bare shoulders touch her and puts her book down while looking at you with wide eyes and blushing cheeks.
"w-what?" she asks.
you look everywhere and smile at her. "i said, can you pass me the remote? i was planning to watch the discovery channel." haerin blinks and nods, closing her lips tight with a sheepish expression.
she moves and reaches for the remote and passes it over to you, but as you hold the remote, your fingers brush against hers causing her to immediately let go of the remote — with you being startled, you drop the remote on the carpeted floor.
"haerin?" haerin looks up at you and she reaches for the remote, then she hands it over to you. you stare at her and watch as she shifts away, pushing a strand of her hair behind her cute red ears.
"you're red." you tell her, haerin scoffs and turns her head away.
"it's nothing."
practice is finally over, you sit on the floor with your eyes scanning over the studio, back against the gigantic mirror. the other four girls are busy taking their time to perfect their moves, trying to polish their steps.
you're still not used to this way, it's harder and you physically can't keep up sometimes.
haerin is a great dancer, you envy and admire her moves and the way she puts her whole self to the music, letting the rhythm guide her body the way the beat intended it to be. you wish you had that kind of talent, you're not that bad but certainly could be better, it's not that hard to admit and you're always open for criticisms.
you feel a presence beside you, you shift your head to see haerin taking a seat next to you, her back also now against the mirror. you smile at the sight of her eyes watching over the other girls, she's sometimes so serious it's always so interesting.
"have you drank water already?" you ask her, seeing as she's still taking time catching her breath, sweat continues to roll over her cheeks. haerin turns her head to you and stretches her lips into a smile. "yes, i'm just taking a short break." you nod and scoot closer to her.
haerin swears she could feel her skin crawl, it's such a weird sensation but it feels funny.
"make it longer, you look tired." you whisper to her, she laughs sheepishly and scratches her cheek, feeling the burst of warmth washing inside of her again. this feels so weird, but she's always like this with you.
haerin pouts for a second only. "you did great." she mutters, eyes finding themselves lost in yours. you smile, nodding. "you did great too, so it's time to rest for a bit." haerin shakes her head.
"no, i mean you really did well. i know you're still bothered and you're always trying, but you're doing great, you're catching up to us already." haerin whispers, almost leaning closer for you to hear her. you shrug, your eyes watches as she looks away, her cheek and left ear close to your lips.
"hmm… really? i wasn't really trained for this." you whisper against her ear, your breath fanning over her skin, causing waves of electricity coursing inside of her, enough to raise the hair in her arms.
your body is close to hers, clothed bodies touching as her arm wraps around your torso, your hands on her knees.
"yeah, but you're already a great singer. dancing would be a piece of cake for you." she tells you but her eyes are still somewhere else, you wonder what part of the thin air must have took her interest. you chuckle, leaning on her shoulder. "really? i still have a lot to learn." you feel her body stiffen to your touch, and as if no one else is inside the room, your hand reaches for her other hand.
haerin shakes her head, now her cheeks are obviously dusted with the color of pink. her sharp eyes are taking your attention, she's like a cat in every form and every way.
have you mentioned before how much you love cats?
how much you might have loved haerin?
because you don't even know that yourself.
"yeah, and it's not just you but everyone of us." you like haerin, maybe just a friend, or maybe more but really, how are you supposed to know?
your relationship went on like that for almost a few more months, and as time passes by, you start to get fond of these feelings for her and haerin starts to realize that she might love you a little too much.
it's the way she's always so giddy, skittish, shy, attentive and conscious about her surroundings when she's with you. she's so aware of every detail about you, those little things and she notes them inside her brain. she's starting to really enjoy staring at your face when you're doing something, even from afar, she takes a short glimpse of your face when you least expect it.
every word you say makes her happy, you're so wise and so good when it comes to choosing the right words to say.
that also what she fears the most, it's not really easy dealing with feelings like these. the thoughts of you keep her wide awake every night, she daydreams of you and sometimes she can't get you out of her mouth.
she likes your perfume, the way you dress, your hair, your eyes, your lips, your cheeks and the way your irises are weak at the sight of haerin.
so many fascinating things about you.
you're really a nightmare dressed like a daydream.
because it's true that haerin loves you, but behind these feelings are the fears of what lies behind the consequences of her actions.
how long does she have to keep this a secret? haerin might get in trouble.
sometimes her heart beats a little too hard for her to calm it down, like it's threatening to rip her chest apart.
"is there something wrong?" you ask haerin, she's been staring at the television for too long, it's already late at night and the television is going static already. you come down from upstairs to find haerin standing in the living room alone, the lights are off and the television is still on but is showing nothing but the colorful display of emptiness.
haerin only moves when you place a hand on her cheek, she looks at you and blinks her eyes.
"don't stare at the tv like that, you're going to get a migraine." haerin rubs her eyes and sighs. you press your hand on her cheeks to feel how warm the skin under your palm is. "are you really okay?" you really can't see her face in the dark, it makes you wonder if she's sick or not but her face is really warm.
haerin shakes her head. "yeah, i'm alright. i just spaced out." the light from the television illuminates both of you, you can only see her eyes and the details of her face.
haerin feels your palm rub her cheek, it makes her feel nervous and putty, like a melted marshmallow.
"how long have you been standing here?" you ask her, pulling your hand off of her face. she feels dread swallowing her when she loses contact with you.
"i don't know, i'm tired and picked up a glass of water but found myself here." you laugh at what she said, your expression made haerin feel dizzy, what makes it worse is that you even thought of placing a hand on her shoulder.
you're so close to her, she can practically feel your warmth embracing her.
"haerin, you're so random. you're tired, right? let's just sleep. come on." you rub your hand on her shoulder and as you're planning to pull your hand away again, she holds it with her hand. "y/n. have i told you something?" haerin asks, her voice sounds serious, but not intimidating.
you raise your brow at her and shake your head. "no, what do you want to say?"
haerin looks down and bites her bottom lip. "uhm, you see. i've been losing sleep a couple of times — since, i don't when but it's been on and off for me. it's just that i can't really find myself, over the past few months, my mind kept on shuffling. you know, i'm so out of it."
you nod, you feel her hand caress your hand, you smile. "nightmares?" if truth be told, the thought of you could be a dream but the circumstances are nothing but a nightmare.
"no. it's because —" pause. haerin takes a deep breath.
"i really, no — i have these thoughts that have been bugging me. y/n, i don't know how things will end after this." she continues, you listen very well, watching the way her eyes move, looking at you then everywhere.
"things will go well after, haerin." you answer her.
haerin nods. "oh, but it's about you. y/n, it's because i like you a lot…" there's nothing but silence, you can tell she wants to say something again but she's hesitating.
"what else?"
haerin locks her eyes with yours, she gulps down the courage.
"i really love you more than just a friend, you know i love everything about you and it's bothering me how if i let these feelings pass me by it's going to bite me back again. i can't just be your friend, that's the thought that i hate. i really hate it." haerin sighs, the hand on her shoulder — she pulls it away and holds it with her two hands.
haerin finds comfort in your presence, you only look at her and smile yet even without any response, haerin still feels comforted by your warmth.
you were always warm, there was never a day where you were cold.
"really? how come i never realized?" you giggle, looking at your hand in hers.
"we were too caught up. i guess?"
the thought that you love her too makes haerin weak, she remembers how nervous she was before because you might dislike her. she's still the same awkward and shy girl, but now she's sure you're her friend.
the only thing left for her to fear is the thought you might not love her the way she loves you.
you shrug. "i guess i was, but either way — i'm sorry for your sleepless nights." haerin looks at you and smiles. you lean close to her and gave her a kiss on her cheek, the sensation made haerin's knees weak.
as surprised haerin was, she can't help but smile.
you stay close to her, your hand and her hands between you and haerin's chests.
"i love you too haerin." you whisper.
haerin laughs, her grin is wide and bright.
you love her.
not just as a friend.
how is she supposed to sleep knowing that you don't just like her, but you also love her? how is she supposed to just stay still?
"don't you want to sleep already? we can leave all the worries for the other day." you mutter, eyes fix on hers.
haerin nods and leans in, forehead touching yours, she whispers back. "where? your room?"
you scrunch your nose. "how about yours?"
haerin shakes her head. "no,"
"why not?"
haerin shifts her eyes away. "because minji said so."
"because it's not cleaned yet? i know you haerin." you tease her, chasing her gaze.
you continue. "let's go. my room. we can cuddle until we fall asleep."
you both make your way upstairs, every step is light, attentive, trying not to catch any attention or make any noise. you let her lead you to your room, opening the door for you.
laughter spills out of your lips as you lay down the bed with her, tucking your bodies under the weighted blanket. you wrap your hand around her torso, burying your head on her neck.
"good night haerin, stay here okay?" you give her another kiss on her cheek, this one isn't a quick peck.
haerin nods, blushing.
"right, good night."
you close your eyes.
"i love you."
haerin hums, closing her eyes too.
"i love you too."
that night you realized how lucky you might have been, that the whole incident might have been a blessing in disguise — how the harsh winds have brought you to meet haerin and newjeans.
you dread it before, but now you can't help but be thankful. you found yourself in another family, finally realizing you aren't alone and you have someone to lean on.
that you have not just haerin but the whole group to share sentiments with.
361 notes · View notes
ventismommy · 11 months
Note
Cont. of last ask, but maybe even rubbing Gorou's ears or tail as he cums?
(Also, is 💌 taken? If not, can I please be known as 💌-anon?)
hi cutie! absolutely you can be 💌 anon <3 and here you go
sub!gorou x dom!fem reader
reader is referred to by female terms, but I am happy to rewrite it with make or neutral terms! Enjoy~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Out of all the times for General Gorou to be pent up and thinking about your touch, in the middle of a mission is quite possibly one of the worst. Why is it your touch specifically, your hands, that keep replaying over and over in his head?
Well, he thinks he knows the answer to that. You two are comrades and very close friends, yes, but ever since a drunk night after a victory banquet led to you kissing him, your relationship become far more romantic in nature. It wasn't something you discussed with other shoulders, but to call you his lover- and, if the plans he has discussed with Kokomi went well, his soon-to-be fiancée- wouldn't be an untrue statement. Now, as he makes his rounds to make sure everyone else is set, he feels your eyes roaming over him like a cat eyeing its prey. He knows you can tell how pent up he's been- you know him too well.
As the sun begins to sink in the sky, the group starts to set up their tents. The mission is to investigate the passages below Suigetsu Pool, as there have been reports of rumbling and disturbances. But with the crumbling structure here, the soldiers have plenty of room to spread out, and some can even set their tents up in rooms of the ruins, adding more privacy. Gorou supposes he shouldn't be surprised that you choose to set up in one of the more enclosed rooms of the old stone building, but acknowledging why you might be doing it puts leaden butterflies in his stomach and sets his tail wagging anxiously.
He enters the tent as you're laying out sleeping bags and lighting a small lantern that, honestly, doesn't provide much light. The light is enough for him to see your face, though, and the way your eyes watch him in a way he's come to love and hate. He settles down onto the sleeping bag you've rolled out for him to begin unfastening his armor, but he knows full well he won't be sleeping in it tonight with the way you make sure he's looking before you start to undress. Just the sight of your bare torso as your top is discarded makes him freeze.
"Gorou~"
Your voice pulls him out of his staring, and he flushes, one ear twitching. "Y-Yes- sorry, I...um...yes?"
Your quiet laugh sends shivers down his spine.
"Come over here?"
It's almost embarrassing how quickly he scrambles to obey, finishing up removing the half-top that covers his shoulders and coming to sit inches away from you. Absentmindedly, you reach out and ruffle his hair; a sign of approval that he much appreciates.
"Did you...need me for something?" He asks, trying very hard to keep his voice steady as your eyes meet his. The hand you had buried in his unexpectedly fluffy hair comes back down to rest on his thigh, an easy place to reach given he's kneeling.
"Just wanted you over here. I thought it would be a crime to waste the opportunity we've been given. Out on a mission, but still able to stay in what's essentially a room? Away from prying eyes?"
You lean forward and catch his chin in your hand, bringing his face closer to yours til there's barely any space between your lips and his. To his credit, he's managing not to shake too badly, though his hands are still restless in his lap and his cheeks are quickly approaching red.
"I know you've been all worked up, hon. And how often do we get the chance for uninterrupted quality time?"
He tries to say, "Not often," but your lips are on his in a flash and all he manages is "Not." He's not complaining, though. Your kisses start deceptively gentle. Before long, though, he's gripping onto your shoulders as you nibble on his bottom lip. Your hand has moved again, this time from his thigh to his slender waist to pull him closer til he's practically in your lap. Your fingers are starting to slide into the waistband of his pants and the way they're dragging down his back makes him shudder.
Your other hand manages to sneak its way up into his hair, stroking the outer edge of his ear, and he jolts. The little motion makes you chuckle, something that deepens the blush on his face. The sensation of your fingers brushing against his ear- and his subsequent reaction- makes him want to melt into the floor.
But you keep doing it.
You keep rubbing the soft fur of his ears until he whines, getting bold enough to climb into your lap completely. He's all too aware that he's putting himself at your mercy, but he can't find it within himself to care. You're quick to take advantage of this, the closeness allowing you to cover his exposed neck and collarbone in kisses and the occasional bite. At this point, his head is in the clouds, and he doesn't even notice the sounds he's making.
"You're so cute like this."
These words, though, manage to slip through the haze in his mind. He starts to respond but your hand on his thigh is sliding up further and further until you're palming him through the fabric of his pants and there is not a single word in his head. Between that and the hand still toying with his ears, he doesn't know which sensation to focus on.
Gorou can't help bucking his hips into your hand, the low whines coming from him getting higher in pitch. He's well aware you're giggling at his eagerness but thinks he can manage to ignore it given the circumstances. His eyes flick back to the sleeping bag below you two, gauging whether he can actually fall back on it- and then his hands are grabbing your shoulders and pulling you with him as he lays back. "Aww, can't withstand a little teasing, huh? Too pent up? You already want me to get to the point and touch you."
Gorou nods, though he squeezes his eyes shut to avoid the embarrassment. Which makes it impossible for him to notice you leaning closer to him until your voice is whispering right in his ear.
"Is that what you want, General? You want me to slide these off-" you tug at the waistband of his pants- "and touch you properly? Make you cry out for me?"
His stuttering response is so adorable it almost makes you want to eat him up. "Oh- o-oh, archons, yes, um, I want you to do that- I've been wanting y-you to do that, s-so bad-"
"Ask me nicely then, if you want it s-so bad." You say, lightly mocking the last part of his sentence. Never mind that you're still palming him, intentionally making it difficult for him to find his words.
"Ple-mmm- please touch me, archons please I want you to touch me!"
"Good boy~" comes your response, and you make good on your word. Your hands stop their teasing torment to unfasten his pants and slide them down over his hips. You almost want to laugh at how eagerly Gorou lifts his hips to help you.
There he is, looking so pretty beneath you with a cute little flushed cock. You wrap a hand around it and he jolts so hard you almost lose your grip. Poor thing is so sensitive.
The pace you set is slow, but not agonizingly so. Your other hand finds its way back up to his ears, rubbing the soft fur and noticing the precum that spurts out when your fingernails scratch the base of them. It just makes you want to do it over and over.
Gorou is too out of it to even pretend to be embarrassed, writhing underneath your touch. His hips buck when you twist your wrist expertly, and the moan that comes from his mouth is loud- almost loud enough for you to shush him, despite being in a more enclosed structure away from prying ears. For now, you let him cry for you, occasionally letting go of his ear and wiping away his tears with a gentle hand. There's a dual purpose to this; every time you take your hand away from his wildly twitching ear, it's an extra little bit of teasing that you delight in giving.
His little noises are starting to become halting and even more breathless, something that doesn't escape your notice. And so, with a plan in mind, you slow your pace to a stop and let go of him. He starts to fuss at you, but you get to him first.
"Flip over for me, sweetie. Let me play with that cute little tail of yours."
It's adorable, bordering on pathetic, how quickly he obeys. He ends up on his knees, bent forward with his arms resting on the pillow and his head resting on his arms. You drag your fingers from his shoulders to the base of his spine, and he shivers, mouth falling open in a silent whine.
Well, that hand has better things to do- like reaching around him to continue teasing his cock. He's plenty flexible, so you've got no qualms about using your other hand, splayed across his lower back, to push his spine to arch further. Sure, he makes a halfhearted sound of protest- but his tail is wagging. The wagging falters when you resume your slow pace, stroking his cock and wrapping your other hand around the base of his tail. He's starting to whimper again, legs shaking a little bit, and you coo at him encouragingly.
"There you go, baby. Doesn't that feel good?"
"Y- mmmm- yes, m-ma'am, feels s-so good- p-please, faster?"
You hum a sound of agreement as you oblige him, and a loud string of moans- and the occasional curse- comes pouring out of his mouth. It brings a sly smile to your face to see him so desperate for your touch.
One of the arms his head had been resting on removes itself to reach back for you, his hand closing around your wrist but doing nothing to slow your pace. If anything, it seems he's trying to urge you to go faster, and you are happy to do so. Not only do you speed up your pace even more, but you start to use your other hand to comb through the fur at the base of his tail, and he absolutely melts. His knees start sliding apart, seemingly unable to give the effort to stay up.
"Oh, look at you. Having a little trouble holding yourself up?"
When he speaks, it's not even to answer your question- he's too focused on what he's feeling. His grip on your wrist tightens.
"D-Don't stop, please, 'm so c-close-" he manages to stutter out. Luckily for him, edging isn't in your plans tonight.
"I won't stop, don't worry baby. You just focus on feeling good for me, mkay?"
When you look up at where his face rests on the pillow, you realize you can see damp spots- he's been crying even more. Poor overwhelmed baby. The sight makes your heart melt.
Before long, he's shaking and gripping the pillow like it's life or death. His breathing is ragged.
"W-Wanna cum, p-pl- ahh- please, can i- oh, archons!"
After waiting a long moment, just to be a tease, you nod your head. "Go ahead, Gorou. You've been good."
"I've b-been good, 've been g-good-" he repeats to himself before a loud cry interrupts his speech. "O-Oh, f-fuck- cumming!"
With that, his whole body tenses, and he's spilling onto your hand and his sleeping bag. Not that that second mess will matter, since he'll likely sleep on yours with you, curled up at your side. Once you've worked him through his high, you carefully help him to lay on his back, caressing his face. "You did so good, hon. Feel a little better now?"
He just nods tiredly, reaching up to try and pull you down for a hug. You oblige for a few moments before laughing. "I've got to clean you up now, you gotta let go- I promise, hon, I'll be back in your arms in just a little bit, okay?"
He whines, but lets you go, and with a cloth from your pack and some water from your canteen, you manage to get him- and the-ahem- mess on his sleeping bag- cleaned up as fast as possible. And then, as promised, you're laying next to him with his arms wrapped around you, him clinging tight to you. You pet his head comfortingly as he falls asleep, whispering to him about how good he did. And not long after he's dozed off, you follow him into sleep, a contented smile on your face.
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kinktae · 2 years
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most undesirable || (M)
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Spring has sprung and engagement is on the forefront of all of Regency London's young ladies' minds. All except for yours, of course– the Queen's niece who a certain notorious author has named the Ton's most undesirable.
pairing: lord!jungkook x lady!reader
word count: 5k
genre: BRIDGERTON AU, regency era, angst, eventual smut
warnings: cocaine usage (not oc or jk), oc has dead parents
A/N: this fic was commissioned by the lovely Baby. As per her request, it features me and our beloved izzy! please do let me know if you would like a part two, i have big plans for whats to come next ;)
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PART ONE **UNEDITED**
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A word of profanity left your painted lips as the outsoles of your lace-up boots danced across the limestone floor of the palace, making haste but not in a manner that was unbecoming, your head held high despite your mood running low.
You reached the door of Her Majesty's room with purpose, hands fiddling with the satin of your dress to make sure it covered your shoes. It wasn't that you didn't appreciate the influx of garments your dear aunt had gifted you upon your arrival. Still, the heels Her Majesty had deemed in style this season were particularly uncomfortable. She would no doubt grow sour to see you parading in countryside shoes in her home.
"Your highness." One of the oldest guards snickered, his eyes flicking towards you knowingly as he and another guard moved to open the grand doors to their Queen's private quarters.
You crunched your nose, "Shh." 
Of course, the guards had already read the paper… Rotten gossips.
Willing a smile onto your face, you were let into the room. Your aunt sat at her sofa, the furniture floral in design, its fabric dyed a luxurious red. Between her hands were the source of your dismay, the newest Lady Whistledown papers fresh off the press. 
You hadn't had the pleasure of reading this week's issue personally, but word traveled outrageously fast in the palace; both maids and guards suckers for a good scandal. You knew quite intimately the matter of its content as you were the matter of its content.
"Ah. Niece. There you are.” The Queen called you over, setting the paper down beside her unceremoniously.
You walked closer stiffly, "Aunt Charlotte, you wished to speak to me?"
"You know I adore you, don't you? You're like a breath of fresh air in this miserably dull palace."
Your once tense shoulders relaxed instantly, taking comfort in knowing she hadn't called you in for a scolding.
"It is you that lights up every room you enter, your Majesty." You bowed your head slightly, knowing well that flattery was your best line of defense should the tides change against you. 
"I do, don't I?" She agreed with a grin, before it fell off her face suddenly. "Sorry– whatever were we talking about?"
"Um–"
"Ah, yes! Well, there's no point mincing words. I'm sure you've seen it by now. I mean, can you believe it? That sorrowful sow Whistledown attempting to soil the reputation of my bloodline with such a frivolous title as… as…" She snapped her fingers, forgetting the word she was looking for.
The sound echoed throughout her enormous chambers, currently barren as your aunt was in the process of renovating.
"Ice Princess." You reminded her quietly. She tutted her tongue in recognition.
"How tactless, how tasteless! It is me who sets reputations. Not her. No, no, this simply won't do."
You watched in silence as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Remind me, darling. Why weren't you at the Danbury Ball?"
You shifted, thinking back on the excuse you had given her, "I was… ill."
It was a lie, of course. You had been feeling quite well actually when notice of the ball came 'round. But could anyone fault you? Ballrooms and gowns weren't exactly your area of expertise.
Growing up, your mother and your aunt couldn't be more different; you often heard stories of the two sisters butting heads from your grandfather. One sister went on to marry the king of England, the other a humble traveling merchant. One stood throne in England; the other lived simply in France's countryside. Despite their differences, it was no secret that your aunt loved her older sister dearly, writing to her often in hopes of convincing her to come move to England. When she learned that your mother was with child, she even went as far as to purchase land for her sister and soon to be niece.
But your mother was every bit as stubborn as she was kind. She loved her husband and the life she had built with him, staying by his side until she passed last year. Your poor father was grief-stricken; by eight months, the stress on his heart had become too much, dying nearly a year after your mother.
It was your aunt who had reached out first, offering her deepest condolences and, far more noticeably, all the money you could ever need and your very own suite in the palace.
You weren't exactly sure why you had agreed to such a lucrative proposal. You, much like your mother, adored the countryside and the small town you grew up in. And perhaps that was why you agreed, not to move in, but instead to visit. She was family, after all, something you didn't have very much of left, though you have since come to know of a cousin Friedrich, recently married to an Edwina Sharma that your aunt raved on and on about.
In the week you had been here, you had come to know far more about British aristocracy than you ever wished to know, entirely out of your element amidst the corsets and personal maids. Only recently had you managed to lower your number of attending maids to two, a far cry from the original seven you were greeted with.
You did your best to fit in, but you were no fool. You knew nothing of soireés– or how to dance for that matter, so the moment your aunt spoke of a ball, you knew you had to conjure up some excuse as to why you woefully must decline.
"Exactly! For heaven's sake, you were ill. How dare Whistledown suggest otherwise." She gestured at the staff in the room as though they were her audience.
The sound of the Queen's chamber doors being thrown stole the attention of everyone in the room. Unsurprising to you, two young maids barreling in, tripping on each other.
"S-Sorry, Your Majesty!" The blonde stuttered out.
The brunette nodded in agreement, "Our apologies, Your Majesty. We didn't know where her highness had gone–"
"–We came running as soon as we realized she had snuck off."
Isabella and Roselia. Of course. Your two personal maids. You had only just managed to shake them from your trail when you heard the news that the Queen had sent for you. You should have figured they'd inevitably catch up with you.
They were pleasant enough company, the duo were quite funny, actually, but the constant shadowing was something you learned you rather detested. You understood they were under strict orders by the Queen to ensure your every need was attended to but still… surely even nobility understood the concept of wanting to have a moment alone?
"Oh— Are we interrupting something?" Roselia's cheeks went pink, eyes running over the room as she took note of the Queen's pursed mouth. "We'll just… we can wait outside actually."
"Outside, right! We'll be just outside." Isabella chimed in, heading bowing as the brunette maid yanked her back and out of the room.
"Sorry for the intrusion!"
You stifled a snicker, watching as the young maids slipped back out of the Queen's chambers, shutting the grand doors as they went. Your aunt merely rolled her eyes at the bumbling maids.
Suddenly, her Majesty sniffed, and it was as if a switch had been flipped. All her maids ran towards her, offering handkerchiefs as if their life depended on it. You nearly laughed at such a ridiculous display of servitude, but seeing as you had spent well over a week in the palace, you had become accustomed to such theatrics.
"Whistledown is right about one thing, you know." Queen Charlotte said as her nose was blotted at. "Everyone needs to meet you. And meet you they shall."
In surprise, you pulled your eyes from the doting maids, "They shall?"
"Certainly. We shall have a ball. Here in the palace, of course."
You felt your stomach plummet into your leather-bound boots, your aunt's words echoing.
"All of London's marriage-minded ladies and lords are to be invited. We'll show Whistledown just how splendid you are. Oh! How glorious if you were to find a suitor! That certainly would put to rest that frozen title once and for all."
Just faintly, you could make out the sound of white noise buzzing, mixing with the words the Queen spoke. Anxiety flooded you, deafening your brain's attempts to self-soothe and rationalize that this wasn't the catastrophe you felt it was.
"Aunt Charlotte," you tried to swallow, but your mouth felt stripped of all moisture, "I… I'm not sure if that is wise–"
But it was as if she hadn't heard you, rambling on as if you hadn't objected, "I'll be arranging for etiquette and dance lessons since my beloved sister undoubtedly failed to do the same for you. Are you free this afternoon, darling?"
You stood for a moment, no doubt looking foolish as you struggled to get your words out, "I… I suppose I am…"
"Dear, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Are you feeling well?" The Queen cocked her head at you, eyes sizing you up with concern.
"I… I am not feeling my best." You admitted.
"That's the second time now. Growing up in the countryside— all that sun and dirt— it's made you weak of constitution. Hm. Very well. We'll wait until you're feeling better. In the meantime, I will begin planning!"
You averted your eyes politely as she bent over suddenly, inhaling a white powder off her tea tray through a nostril. She sat up with an exhale, eyes fluttering open with a smile.
"Oh, how I love having you come to stay in the palace for a change. I'm terribly bored these days, you know." She sighed. "Did you care to assist me with planning?"
Despite how you felt seconds from unearthing your already digested lunch, you managed an apologetic smile, "I'm not sure I'd be of much help. I'm afraid I've never hosted a party before."
"Yes, my dearly departed sister never cared much for such things, did she? Such a shame she raised you out of the aristocracy." She said.
A furrow found your brow.
"You're wrong, you know." You disagreed before you could think to hold your tongue. And just like that you had become a magnet, all eyes in the room snapping towards your frame.
"Oh? About?" The Queen offered you a pointed look.
"About the way I was raised. I wouldn't change a thing about it. My mother didn't fail me… she loved me. I had a mother and father who loved me. That was worth more to me than any new dress could ever." You said, gesturing to the gifted garment you adorned today, with perhaps a touch more spite than you should've.
Of two things those in the palace knew to be true. One— Her Majesty was not wrong. Ever. Her opinion was the first to seek and the only to matter. Anyone was someone because she said so, whether explicitly or subtly.
And two— her love for her niece ran deeper than even she anticipated, as watching you stand before her defiantly didn't fill her with rage as the staff in the room assumed, but rather with melancholy. 
You looked like your mother just then. It seemed you reminded her of her sister more and more as the days rolled by.
"Your mother would be pleased to hear that." She merely replied, wondering if her sister might be looking down on you both at this moment. At her words, your entire demeanor softened.
"Very well. Off you go." Your Queen sniffed, a handkerchief at her nose within seconds.
Bowing, you moved to exit the room.
"And niece," she called one last time, causing you to turn around, "must you wear such unsightly footwear under your dress?"
You felt your face grow hot, muttering a quiet apology before exiting the room altogether.
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"Chin up, darling." Your aunt reminded you.
You followed her instructions coolly, hoping you didn't look nearly as nervous as you felt.
It was undoubtedly a soirée for the books; every square inch of the ballroom was gilded in gold, the chandeliers' gleam diffusing luxuriously as it bounced around the room.
Eligible men and women of all shapes and sizes had come from far and wide, donned in their absolute best; every possible hue of pink, blue and purple on display for Her Majesty. The ballroom looked akin to the royal grounds, you thought; the cool-toned dresses reminding you of upside-down bellflowers, floating across the marble floor in a synchronized dance.
Flocks of the most noticeable families and town figures had swarmed their way to the royal estate, drowning themselves in champagne as corseted woman fluttered their eyes at the Ton's lords.
But despite their poised smiles, neither woman nor man spared you more than a cautious glance and courteous bow. As the hours ticked by, you couldn't help but feel increasingly uneasy. Was it fear of Her Majesty sitting beside you that kept them away from you? Or was it the less than auspicious picture a certain faceless author had painted for them about you?
"It's rather hot in here, wouldn't you say?" The Queen spoke to you suddenly, looking larger than life from her magnificent throne.
"I suppose." You agreed absentmindedly, far too occupied with how a group of ladies' eyes flickered your way.
She continued, "Perhaps some champagne will cool you down. Why don't you fetch yourself a glass, dear?"
The meaning behind her words was clear. Go. Socialize.
"A splendid idea." You concurred.
Granting yourself one final shaky breath, you straightened up, walking towards the table where drinks were being freshly poured.
"What shall it be, my lady?" A servant greeted you politely as you reached it.
"A glass of champagne, please." You smiled, grateful for a friendly face, perhaps the first of the night.
The servant nodded, moving to open a new bottle.
"She doesn't even hold a title, you know. That Ice Princess."
You blinked, growing still as your ears caught wind of a conversation between party goers not far from you.
"But she's the Queen's niece?"
A sinking feeling washed over you, the kind that made all the other noise in the room disappear. You flirted briefly with abandoning your spot in the room altogether, but the bubbling pour of golden liquid into a glass kept you still. You thanked the servant with a halfhearted smile.
Bringing the glass to your mouth, you turned an ear to the three gossiping ladies, careful to avoid their gaze.
"Word has it her mother married out of the aristocracy." One of them babbled, pulling noises of disbelief from the others.
"Pity. Though, I suppose that explains the appalling way she walks in heels. You'd think she grew hooves from all that time she spent in the countryside." Another prattled. Stifled giggles rang around the group like they were all in some sort of secret, one that wasn't theirs to know. "Can you believe she thinks herself better than us?"
"One more glass, if you please." You asked the same servant, quickly making your way back to the Queen, now with a glass in either hand.
You approached her wordlessly, merely offering her a glass.
"Ah." She accepted the drink eagerly, and for a moment, there was silence, the two family members enjoying the cool velvety acidity of what was no doubt costly champagne.
"It appears the Ton thinks poorly of me." You blurted out.
You felt rather foolish telling this to your aunt. It wasn't as if you really cared what three cankerous aristocrats thought of you. But who else were you to tell? You knew no one.
Your Aunt Charlotte furrowed her delicately painted brow, "Darling, it'll do you well to realize that this Ton doesn't think. They merely reiterate what they've been told. They don't know you. Never mind what they think they know."
But her words went in one ear and out the other, merely background noise to the way you suddenly felt all eyes on you.
And suddenly, your dress was too tight, the ballroom too small. You felt your breath grow shallow, a sure sign of panic. How may others deemed you the subject of gossip tonight? What else were they saying about you?
"I think I should step out for a moment." You muttered.
"Take your maids with you!"
You were halfway across the room before you could even think to register your aunt's reply. Blinking away your tears, you pushed yourself through the crowd, muttering absentminded apologies as partygoers scoffed in protest.
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How small you felt sitting alone in the palace's rose gardens. You wept on a stone bench, wishing ever so badly that your mother was here, looking back with sorrow at how she used to pull you into her lap whenever you were upset. How she used to wrap her arms around you, and everything seemed better, if even for a moment.
How you missed her. How you missed your father. How you missed your life away from this shining, hollow palace.
But they were gone, and the simple life that awaited you back home was gone. Aunt Charlotte was all the family you had left. Without your parents, your home was gone.
"Oh! My lady… forgive me!"
A soft voice caused you to gasp, turning to face the man that had walked in on your self wallowing.
You were up on your feet in seconds, wiping away at your face. 
"No… no, it is I who should apologize! I'm sorry you had to see me like that." Your cheeks burned.
"See you like what?" The mysterious raven-haired stranger pressed, a note of cheekiness to his tone. "Human? Heaven forbid."
You laughed gently, sniffling away your shame. You knew at once he was no threat to you.
The young lord wasn't exactly sure what had led him to the palace gardens; most of the event seemed to be taking place indoors as the night nipped and chilled unforgivingly. Still, a few stray bodies mingled underneath the string of lights that the palace servants had strung up. He had briefly greeted them, passing through the clouds of cigar smoke and small talk before bounding down limestone stairs.
He had tucked his hands into his pants pockets, sighing as the night's festivities grew quieter the further he slipped away, the crunch of wet grass kissing the underneath of his dress shoes. His mind was heavy with thoughts, hardly noticing where his legs had taken him.
It was the sound of your cries that pulled him from his thoughts and jerked him back to his senses.
He was in the Queen's rose garden; he immediately recognized the vibrant flowers and tall bushes. What he failed to recognize, however, was the weeping girl sitting on a stone bench, a look of embarrassment written plainly on her pretty face as she realized she was not alone.
He was quite handsome, you noticed despite your humiliation. He was younger than most of the lords inside, his face still featuring a certain softness despite his sharp features. His gaze was inherently kind, his warm brown eyes all but beckoning you to lower your guards.
"Lord Jeon.” He introduced himself with a bow, eyes never leaving yours. "Forgive me if I frightened you, my lady. I shall return at once and grant you your privacy."
You sank back down onto the bench, pulling the shawl wrapped around your shoulders closer. Your dress was beautiful— you were beautiful… puffy eyes, smeared makeup and all. He couldn't imagine why a lady like yourself would be weeping in the rose gardens unattended.
"It's alright. I supposed I'm not the only introvert at this party tonight. The garden is big enough for the two of us."
Lord Jeon shrugged, "A bit of fresh air is good for the soul."
You watched cautiously as he walked closer, sitting beside you on the opposite side of the bench. 
"You know… I've been told I'm a decent listener." He said suddenly, brown eyes admiring the roses surrounding you.
You blinked, "Is that so?"
"Well… not explicitly. But I've got two ears, so I'd say I do alright." He teased.
You smiled softly, contemplating how much to reveal to this stranger.
"It's… I suppose I'm just a bit out of my element here." 
"You?" He seemed surprised, a slight chuckle of disbelief accompanying his question.
"You laughed." You raised a brow.
He bit down on his lower lip as if contemplating his following words.
"Well, it's just… I can't imagine someone like you having trouble at these events." He confessed.
For a moment, you wondered what he could mean. Looking down at your lap, you realized he must be referring to your extraordinarily fanciful garments.
"Ah. These clothes were a gift, and this hair— well, none of this is me. Not really. Truly, I don't know why I came." You sighed. 
He nodded, "Beginning to feel that way myself, actually. Most lose interest when they hear my name. I'm a bit of a nobody, it seems."
"Funny. It would appear you and I have the opposite problem." You nearly laughed.
"Uptown girl, are you?"
"I'm afraid I've got a bit of a reputation. And no one cares to know whether it's true or not." You said.
He let out a sigh.
"Terrible soirée full of terrible people. I can't say that doesn't happen here often."
You let his words hang in the night's cold air, your fingers intertwining themselves across your lap.
"Is that all?"
Your head turned to face him, growing warm to find him already looking at you.
"Forgive me, it's just," he continued, "your sadness… it feels heavier than you're letting on."
He watched as your body language changed, suddenly tense as if you had built your walls back up.
He was back up on his feet within seconds, his shoes coming into view by the bottom of your dress as he stood in front of you.
Swallowing down a sob, you allowed yourself to look up at him.
"May I?" He asked, extending a hand out as if wanting yours.
Hesitantly, you gave it to him, assuming you would be ushered back onto your feet. To your surprise, however, he merely flipped your hand over, your palm now facing the night sky.
Your eyes widened as he took a finger and traced a line onto your palm. 
No. Not A line. A letter.
L-O-V-E-R-? 
He wrote into your palm. You stared at your hand, skin still buzzing faintly from where his finger had run across.
His mother used to do such a thing when he was younger and much angrier, often struggling to say the words when something troubled him. He only hoped it would work for you the way he had for him.
Frowning, you shook your head. He wrote once again.
F-A-M-I-L-Y-?
A tear fell from you as if instinctively. You nodded your head, confirming his suspicions. Spurred on by his touch, you moved to grab his hand, flipping it upside down as he had done to yours.
L-O-N-E-L-Y you wrote.
"… I just wish I had a little bit longer with them." You found yourself saying once you had finished.
"No time is enough when it comes to the people you love." He spoke with heart as if referring to his own personal melancholy.
Another tear fell from your eyes as his thumb ran over your palm, not to spell anything but to offer his condolences.
"No. I suppose not." You sniffed, a shiver running over you as a crisp breeze passed the two of you.
He wrote into your palm again.
C-O-L-D-?
You let out a laugh, shrugging dismissively.
"Here." Lord Jeon suddenly peeled his suit jacket off his shoulders. You froze, stunned silent as he gently draped it over your shoulders, a gentle smile on his face.
Your chest tightened, moved by the gesture of kindness. But before you could think to thank him, his warm fingers were at your palm once more.
F-R-I-E-N-D-?
His smile tugged at your heartstrings. You wondered how anyone inside could possibly look down on him. You didn't need to know his name to see that he was kind, a worthy suitor for any marriage-minded aristocrat.
F-R-I-E-N-D. You wrote back.
Happy was the girl who sat on the cement bench of the palace's rose garden, wrapped up warm under the jacket of the first person to show you genuine, unconditional kindness since arriving weeks ago.
The two strangers sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the quiet of company. Neither of you knew the other, but there was comfort in the silhouettes of the adjacent shadows at your feet, knowing that neither had ill intent towards the other.
"Do you ever wonder what it might be like to live in a palace?"
You fell stiff, mute as you turned towards him, watching how he looked over at the illuminated estate. 
"Lonely."
"You think?" He pondered.
"I'm not fond of big empty rooms. They tend to make me feel small." You explained quietly.
"Well, should I ever have a palace, there would be no empty rooms. Every room with music and the sound of children's laughter. I would decree it so."
"Children? And where do you figure you might obtain those?" You chuckled.
"Well, they'd be mine, of course." He grinned lopsidedly.
You grinned back at him. "Then the happiest of children they would be."
You suppose the young lord reminded you somewhat of a child. He was a man by every definition of the word, standing tall and proud, but there was something about the way his large eyes took in the palace that was decidedly childlike. Eyes wide and glimmering with awe.
You watched contently as he suddenly noticed the silver plated container that sat by the leg of the bench; an unopened bottle of champagne sat neatly in a bed of ice, several glasses along side it.
Your dear aunt thought of everything when it came to party planning, you were coming to find out.
"Shall we?" He smirked suggestively.
"I don't see why not." You laughed.
The two of you giggled as he attempted to open the bottle, champagne spilling everywhere. He tried to pour you a glass neatly, but your new friend had no future in bartending, champagne spilling over the glass' edge and onto your fingers.
Sticky but smiling, you brought your glass up, mirroring him.
"A toast." He decided, his own glass now only half full from his carelessness.
"To?" You questioned.
He contemplated for a moment, meeting your inquisitive eyes innocently. A boyish smile broke out across his face.
"To us, of course. Tonight's most undesirables." He declared, making you chuckle.
But before you could touch glasses…
"Your highness!"
Your eyes went wide, your stomach dropping as a certain blond maid came scrambling into the garden.
"Isabella! Please! Just 'my lady' will do." Heat rocketed up your neck, ears no doubt hot to the touch. 
Her hands fell to her knees, clearly out of breath from running around the palace grounds, undoubtedly in search of you.
"My lady, I should advise you to return to the party. Her Majesty the Queen has someone she wants you to meet." She cautioned.
You cursed internally.
"Of course, she does. Give me just a moment then. I'll be over shortly."
The young maid's eyes flickered over to Lord Jeon, cheeks rosy.
"But your highness—"
"Thank you, Isabella." You cut her off curtly. 
The young maid gave you two one more final look over before nodded, pardoning herself with a curtesy.
Hesitantly, you turned back towards Lord Jeon, unsure what to make of the look of disbelief clearly written across his face.
Awkwardly, you brought your glass to your mouth, taking a cautious sip.
"Your highness? You're a princess?" He gawked, eyes still wide. 
"No!" You quipped. "Not… technically?"
The young lord merely blinked at you, his doe eyes telling you everything his mouth wasn't.
You were rambling before you could help yourself.
"M-My mother is the Queen's sister. Technically speaking, she held the title of 'Princess.' Though, I suppose if my mother were born a man then, yes, that would make me a princess— titles are patriarchal in nature, it's all… very complicated, really…" 
You felt like you couldn't take in a deep enough breath, the chilly air now burning your lungs.
"So… not a princess. Just… daughter of a princess." He reiterated, clearly stunned.
You felt a frown form on your face, all your etiquette instructor's reminders of poise and manners slipping from your mind.
"I am the Queen's niece. We shall leave it at that."
The handsome lord had the most fascinated look on his face, eyes locked on the way your jaw twitched, mouth shut rigidly to hold back the slew of word vomit you instinctively felt compelled to let out.
The way he held your eyes – the intensity behind his dark orbs – made you uneasy yet engrossed you all the same.
You bit down on the side of your cheek, "Are you upset that I didn't tell you?"
He shook his head suddenly as if trying to shake off his shock.
"No. I'm not."
"Are you… disappointed?" You grimaced.
You hadn't the faintest clue as to what was running around in his handsome head.
"Disappointed?" He cocked his head.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what the hell you're thinking right now, and it's frankly unnerving." You frowned.
The raven-haired man let out a noise that toed the line between amusement and disbelief. 
"I think you owe me a toast… your highness." He teased.
Rolling your eyes, you failed to fight back a smile, bringing your champagne glass up to meet his, his smirk assuring you that whoever your aunt wished you to meet could wait a moment or two. 
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mazeinthemiroh · 10 months
Text
han jisung boyfriend headcanons.
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genre: romance, fluff
word count: 0.6k
warnings: not proofread
song rec: love me harder by ariana grande
please like and reblog if you enjoy :)
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han jisung.
i've been thinking about him a lot recently tbh.
he's such a comforting presence, idk. he understands people in a way other people cannot. perhaps that is down to his own introspection - dwelling and reflecting on himself is a habit he has maintained throughout his life. but with this comes with deep social awareness, which is a talent and skill in itself.
which is why i think he would be a pretty perfect boyfriend. he can read you so well, find out what makes you laugh, what makes you cry, what makes you tick. he can find out the smallest things, the intimate details, and he can find them out very quickly!
his one sole purpose in life is to make you happy. so getting you to smile at him or laugh at his jokes. and if he succeeds? his heart flutters each time without fail, and he feel immensely proud of himself.
he's so soppy with you. just wants to cuddle you and never let go, ever. mornings are hard because thats when be has to leave your grasp and accept that he won't be seeing you for a whole day. that's why nights are his favourite, when he can come home and settle in your arms again, clutching onto you like a koala bear. he can be clingy at times but never expose that little secret to the other members because they will rip him to shreds 💀
totally writing songs about you. i feel like that's just a given, really. he writes about his feelings in such a poetic and eloquent and real way, and when his life starts to become dominated by the feeling of love, he feels he has to capture that and immortalise it in his songs. so writing about how you make him feel, how he cares for you, how he forgot what life wa like without you, in his usual genius way, then he will feel very fulfilled as an artists and a lover.
he's definitely comfortable to ask for your advice on things. he genuinely shares his feelings to you and opens up to you in a way he won't do with anyone else. that's what he views soulmates are for!
appreciates the little things you do for him. he expects no grand gestures or outward declarations of love. rather, little things like taking care of him when he's sick or sending him cute little messages to let you know you're still thinking about him - yeah, that stuff means much more to him.
dates with him would include:
anime dates - his ideal night is just to get his favourite takeaway food, snuggle in his bed with you and binge an anime. it's become a very traditional occurances for you both and it never stops making him feel relaxed and grateful for having you by his side. you guys sometimes talk over whole episodes and have to rewind because you've completely missed a pivotal part of the series.
spontaneous trips - not exclusive for dates but he just loves saying 'yk what, let's go out tonight!' you don't know where or how or why but you end up in the best of places. theme parks, arcades, sometimes you end up in a completely different town or city!
café dates - in more simpler conditions, he finds comfort in ordinary things in life. while he loves going off in spontaneous trips with his favourite person, he also appreciates the mundane things in life. coffee dates may be simple and cliché, but he thinks it's cute, plus a convenient way to catch up during his lunch break.
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yandere-wishes · 2 months
Note
Who are your fav authors on here, why and what are your fav fics from them?
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Anon, I don't think you're aware of the beast you've just unleashed!
So strap in cause this is going to be long.
Right off the bat, we have, @thefudge. I'm trying so hard not to sound like a deranged fangirl right now. But trust me when I say that I am OBSESSED with every single thing they write! I have read their fics SO SO many times and It's impossible to pick a single favorite one. So here are my top 5
Waiting for the barbarians
Within you is everything I am
I won't be these clothes I burn
His little dead wife 
god complex
Honestly, guys go check out their work they have so many stories spanning countless fandoms. They're literally the ones that got me into Star Wars in the first place! @thefudge I SWEAR I'm not a crazy fangirl, I just really love your writing and works!!
@yandere-romanticaa goes without saying, I've been a HUGE fan of Ana's since literally forever. She was actually one of the Yandere blogs that inspired me to start writing on Tumblr. Again I can't pick just one of her works I love so here's a top 5 list
Wanna Be yours 
Yandere! William Moriarty 
Yandere! Miguel O'hara
Yandere! Nikolai #1 and #2
Yandere! Dazai comparisons
She writes for so many fandoms and updates very frequently. She's also such an amazing and fun person so hearing her stories is always a treat!! Love you lots bestie!!
@fragileheartbeats is another amazing author I love her frigid aesthetic and how it adds a layer of etherealness to all her stories. Her scenarios are magical and written in such a way they evoke such sweet feelings. Honestly reading her stories makes me feel like I'm wrapped in a blanket with hot chocolate watching as the snow silently falls outside. 
Cute little things that melt their hearts (jjk) 
White Swan (jjk) 
How it feels to be loved by them (jjk) 
First kiss (jjk) 
When they become dads (jjk) 
These five are my TOP FAV works from her they're honestly so well-written and utterly adorable!! Guys I'm not kidding go follow her, she is literally my wify!!
@irresistible-revolution
I'm new to their work. BUT "A Coffin Made of Glass" is so beautifully written. It's dead dove yet so utterly bewitching. It takes place in the space between famous Star Wars scenes and gives a more in-depth view of the character's actions and sentiments. 
@spacexseven, omg where do I even begin? Okay, so they just have such a natural way with words. Their stories flow SO smoothly it's honestly astonishing! They've written two Childe fics, "Broken Vows" and "Mandatory Obligations" that I'm wholly obsessed with. The dialogue they write also feels so natural and forthcoming, it's absolutely enticing!!
@rrairey another author whose work I've recently gotten into!! If you're a Sukuna fan then her blog is the place to go. 
Love
Sukuna vs Plushie (a literal BANGER!!)
Gojo vs Plushie
Trust
Bracelet
Seriously, go check out her work!! The way she writes dialogue between the characters and the reader is so utterly perfect. It makes you feel as if you are right there saying those exact words. The scenarios (although) fictional feel so real thanks to her wonderful writing style. 
@dear-yandere needs no introduction, she's a staple in the yandere community. Her stories always blend love and creepiness to a perfect extent. Can I take a moment to just appreciate how poetic and GORGEOUS all her stories are?? Like seriously!! "Almost god" is my favorite fanfic of ALL TIME!! And don't even get me started on "Cry for Me"!! 
This turned out long I don't think anyone was expecting an essay. To be honest I consume more fanfics than published books nowadays so I guess it's a given to have such a long list. 
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urf1lterr · 1 year
Text
lovesick | pedro pascal [2]
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"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."
next chapter: [3] previous chapter: [1] series masterlist
summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.
pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader
genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually
word count: 6.7k
status: in progress
author's note: this chapter was for fun- i have the 1975 on repeat so i had to lmao. i kinda wanna do a slow burn because i don't want to make anything happen so fast. and pedro was at the oscars a few hours ago so why not post another chapter for him :) not edited.
You hated working weekends.
Something about waking up extremely early on a day that was supposed to be your day off irks you. Why have a scheduled rest day if you're just going to be scheduled to come in? It made zero sense, especially since you were only given a two hour notice before while sleeping.
No pay, clothes, gifts could ever make you happy after being called in at 5am for a 7am shift-
"Venti iced white chocolate mocha with oat milk, vanilla sweet cold foam, caramel drizzle, and light ice as always," Pedro listed as he handed you the coffee.
"Oh my god, I think I love you," you blurted out, staring at the cup in awe.
"That was fast, I see now why you're single," Pedro replied, giving you the side eye. "And soon diabetic."
Rolling your eyes, you take a sip of the coffee before shaking your head. "Not like that, you moron," you scoffed as he glared at you. "I love coffee too much- and who says I'm single."
"Think of it as your reward for waking up to the call," he joked as you just stared at him annoyed. The one time you turn off your do not disturb and this happens. "Your loneliness says otherwise."
"I am not lonely!" you gasp as he shrugs. "I'll have you know I am dating-"
"If you dare say Matty Healy I will personally push you in a bush-," Pedro declares, stopping you as you try to interject. "-and won't help you back up."
Huffing, you cross your arms as he laughs at the sight of your defeat. He knows you too well considering the fact you only met two months ago.
In fact, these two months were probably the best ones you have had all year. Not only did you experience some awesome moments you're sure you'll never get to witness again, but you got along with a lot of special people.
What made things even better was the fact that you got along with your boss because who knows where you would've ended up if Finn was a total douche- which he wasn't. But he did have his moments where he took your kindness for weakness- like asking you to come in for shift on a Saturday.
One thing that definitely advanced would have to be your relationship with Pedro. Nearly best friends is what you two were typically called on a normal day on set by how close you've become.
The nearly part added because nothing could ever come between his relationship with Bella, or Bellie in his own words. And because Jules always made sure to tell the jokesters that she was not giving up her position just yet.
But when it came to work, Pedro was always there for you. Considering he's been in the industry since before you were even born, which he yelled at you once when you joked, he was the best support.
He would even ask you what you were assigned to do and tell you specifically what was wanted without you even asking- even finding ways to physically assist before being caught and sent back to his actual job.
There were also the constant times where he would spam you with iMessage game requests to 8 ball and ignore you after beating him three times in a row, claiming his phone died despite your messages being sent through.
The only thing that made today better was that he was here because who knows how boring the day would have been if you were spent hanging with the technicians who; in fact, did not appreciate the countless times you dropped a mic.
"Why didn't Jules get called in?" you questioned as he turned up the computer brightness you were using. "That girl never wakes up early but I kid you not, she was playing minecraft on her computer when I was leaving."
"I love minecraft," Pedro sighed.
"I do too, but Jules always sends the creepers to my house," you complain. "They always destroy my garden."
"I could only imagine the devastation in your eyes," he dramatically exhales as you nudge him. "But I think it's because you're more...attentive? Not saying that she isn't, but she sure loves to talk about Jersey Shore in between takes."
"She's been binge-watching all the seasons after work."
The conversation ended once he was caught again by one of the producers and lured out of the office you were in. Initially, he searched around the studio and found you to gift the coffee, but he stayed because he did not want to sit on the makeup chair for another round of a drastic look being applied to his face- especially if you weren't there to pester him.
As for you, once clocked in Finn managed to have you scan after emails as a way to apologize for the call in. Apparently, one of his assistants called out so he decided to use you as their replacement since he couldn't find the time to sit down in a cozy office and do so.
But you were totally not complaining.
That only lasted you about two hours before you were finished and terribly bored.
Throwing the empty cup of coffee in the trash, you decided to walk around in hopes of finding something better to do or else you would've fallen asleep on the desk.
You would've if you weren't scared of the thought of a director finding and; consequently, firing you.
Hearing a loud noise, you quickly averted your eyes where your ears were signaling where the noise came from. Lightly jogging behind a curtain, your eyes widened to a sight of a desk on its side and a man hovering over it.
"Joon?!" you exclaim, running over to find him lowly panting, trying to remain his coolness as you began inspecting him to find any injuries.
"I'm fine," he calmly replied, using his dimpled smile as a way to reassure this but you didn't believe him. That was a loud drop.
"Why in the world are you lifting a desk that surely isn't less than 30 pounds?" you glare as he chuckles at the fake anger you poorly tried displaying.
"One of the technicians asked me to bring it out."
"And did you forget that your back would disagree?"
He shuts his mouth for a second, loss for words at your comeback. "I couldn't say no," he shyly replied. "I didn't want to have to pull out my medical forms explaining why I can't lift a table."
Feeling your face sink, you helped him stand straight as he glanced down at the fallen table. "You should have called for help then- everybody would need help for a gigantic table like this."
He only nodded in response, making you feel bad. You felt like you were lecturing him, technically you were, but you didn't want to find out in the future the reason he stopped attending work was because he pulled his back again.
"I'll drag this out," you declare as he tried slapping you hands away from it.
"It's too heavy for you!" he argued.
"Which is why I said drag," you countered back, ignoring his pleas as you somehow managed to lift the table back to its standing positioning.
Walking around it, you bent your back as you began pushing it around the curtain as Joon followed your position, crouching next to you for the extra support.
If it wasn't for the film crew being around the floor, you were sure you would have passed out right then and there. But you couldn't let them know how weak you were.
"And that's how teamwork makes the dream work," you announce, causing Joon to giggle before giving you a high-five as the two of you stand up from your bent posture.
Joon was another person you got along with incredibly well. For one, you guys were the duo out of all the interns. Every job you had that included another person, he was always there.
There was also the many times the two of you, and Jules of course, would carpool together to get home. It turned out Joon was also friends with some of your college classmates so he was always the only person from work who joined you guys for the random nights of cheesy movies and boring games while eating takeout with your other friends.
Despite hanging out for so long, you felt dense when someone called him Namjoon one time, even turning your head around for this Namjoon, completely oblivious to the fact that Joon was connected to Namjoon.
To be fair, he never went by his full name claiming that his nickname sounded more 'chill,' or whatever that meant.
Other than that, you were sure he was your other best friend. Well, after Jules and maybe Pedro. They were probably on the same level if you had to arrange them- not that friends had to ranked.
"Are you ready for this afternoon?" Joon called out as the two of you walked off the stage back to the curtains.
"For what?"
He sent you a surprised look, scaring you because is there something crazy happening that you had to prepare for? "Do you have your phone?"
Patting your back pocket, you shook your head. "I think I left it in my bag. Why? I'm about to cry if you don't tell me," you impatiently whine.
"What kind of fan you are," he simply responds, causing you to widen you eyes.
Immediately jumping on him, you shake his shoulders repeatedly. "What is the 1975 doing?! You must tell me or I swear to the gods I will bust your kneecaps and make you crawl for help."
He bursts out laughing at your threatening begs, trying to calm down your jumps by grabbing your shoulders to hold you. "You're violent."
"And you'll need surgery if you don't hurry it up."
Tapping your shoulder to calm down, you slowly do so. "3 o'clock is when their tickets go on sale for their upcoming tour, one of the dates being in New York City."
You could have sworn you were about to faint if it weren't for Joon pulling out his phone to show you you still had time to mentally prepare for the combat you were about to enter.
That's what ticketmaster was, a war zone.
"How was I not aware of this?!" you cry out, internally panicking about what you were going to do. You can't miss out on this concert, you just had to see these British people in person in order for your life to be complete.
"They did just post the news half an hour ago," he admitted. "Good for you for not being addicted to your phone."
Scowling at him, he quickly closed his mouth as you went over all the things you needed to do to prepare. "Wait, can we go together? None of my guy friends like them."
If you weren't in your own world mentally planning how you were going to beat all these teenage girls online, you would have noticed Pedro walking up to the two to you. But you didn't because your mind couldn't stop thinking about Matty Healy singing 'She's American' because you were indeed American.
"Why does she look deranged?" Pedro questioned, standing a few feet away from you. "Oh no, did Matty Healy die?"
Glaring at him, you ignore his irrelevant comment and face back to Joon. "You and me, my place straight after work. Got it?"
He nods, already in game mode because he knows how bad the two of you need to witness this concert.
Pedro exchanged a crazed look between the two of you, assuming his own ideas as to what you meant. "You're having a party and didn't invite me?" he tried joking to understand the conversation a bit more.
"No time for fooling around, Pedro," you state, grabbing Joon by his arm and making your way back to the office to search for your phone. "We have important business to settle, see you around!"
He watched the way Joon and you walk away hurriedly and wonders if you have a thing for the boy. It would make sense right? Joon was around the same age and he saw you guys work together all the time.
Shaking his head, he walks back to the stage trying to not overthink whatever was flowing in his head. But he couldn't help but question why he was never invited to your place? He instantly rejected that idea, he was twice your age. There's no way that was realistically appropriate.
However, you were friends- so wasn't it hypothetically okay?
No, there was no way he was really debating this. It's completely understandable why he didn't need to be invited over and Joon could.
But how many times did Joon come over?
Stop. His thoughts were confusing him and he needed a distraction. He wasn't going to let another man make him envy of where his friendship stood with you because there is no way he's jealous Joon might take his close friend status.
Because that's who you were to him, a close friend.
After another hour of working with Joon secretly about the tickets while emailing more people who Finn ordered, you two were finally cut for the day.
And luckily you still had two hours before the tickets went on sale.
"I need to grab my coat I left backstage, meet me outside?" Joon asked and you nodded, waving him off as you put on your own coat and bag.
Sprinting out of the office, you didn't expect to fall on the floor by the the person who ran into you. Well, the person fell to the floor while you comfortably landed on top of them, their arms wrapping around you.
"If you missed me that much you should've just texted me sooner to drop by," you heard the culprit chuckle, immediately making you shake their secured hands off your waist to stand.
"That was definitely not the case," you laugh, sticking a hand out to help him get up.
He raises a brow while staring at your hand before taking it, instantly pulling you back down with him. Falling over again, you slowly slip into his arms before finding your balance and giving up on helping him.
"How adorable of you to think you can lift me up," he grins, pulling his own weight up.
"I would love to stay and chat," you start, before looking past him and back again. "But I have something very important to do."
Trying to move around him, he stops you by grabbing your shoulder. "That's why I came to be a generous person and offer you a ride- so you can be home faster and do whatever you needed to do with Josh."
"His name's Joon."
"That's what I said," he ignores you're doubtful glance. "I can take you guys to your apartment."
Thinking it over, it would make it easier and faster to get home and prepare for the sale. If you would've taken a cab and subway it would have been an hour, with him it'll be half that.
"Fine," you spit out and watch as his face lights up. "But I am not owing you anything, you offered."
"Love how two months ago you would've begged the world for me," he placed a hand over his heart. "Oh how comfortable you've gotten with me."
"I don't want to hear it," you shun him, walking past him as he makes a silly face behind your back. "I can feel that!" He immediately stops, surprised you sensed it.
Maybe the two of you gotten a long too well.
"He's gonna drive us to my place, it'll be faster," you quickly explain to Joon who just nods, happily smiling at Pedro who sends him a fast greeting.
Right as you walk through the parking garage and see the familiar black car, Pedro unlocks it before quickly pushing you into the passenger seat, ignoring your protests and slamming the door before you could slip out.
"Not cool," you utter once he buckles inside the driver's seat.
"Don't make me cry," he fake cries before pulling the car out and hitting the road back to your place.
Due to it being the weekend and everybody wanting to be social and outside for some reason, the streets were packed.
It didn't help that Pedro thought starting a deep conversation with Joon about why electric cars annoyed him, knowing damn well Joon loved the environment, was a good idea.
And Pedro's defense being because he loved the smell of gas made you want to slap him.
As if the heavens felt your annoyance, your wish was granted. You were finally in the front of your apartment complex with Pedro pulling up along the red curb. You would've fought him, but you were desperate to get inside as you barely had an hour left.
"Thanks, see you Monday!" you exclaim, jumping out of the car and slamming the door shut. "Let's go, Joon!"
Barely stepping a foot out, you heard Pedro begin talking. "Wait, what are you guys gonna do?"
"Very intense work," Joon stated before turning to you. "But we got this in the bag."
Pedro squints his eyes, curiously scanning your body language because he does not know what this very intense work meant.
Working out? Making out? What the hell was it?
"Of course we do, love has no limits," you declare, making Pedro cough as you grabbed Joon's arm. "Now, let's go!"
"What are you two going to eat?!" Pedro called out, making you heavily sigh and turn back around.
Faking a smile, you gritted your teeth. "Don't know. Maybe we'll cook or make Jules' grab food as we work."
He makes a face, not convinced he wants to let you guys leave. Now that he was here and his day was over with, he didn't want to be alone.
But he also didn't want to tell you he wanted to stay. He wanted you to invite him- but you weren't getting the hint. Or maybe you were, but you couldn't have him in the room while working with Joon.
"That's cool, did you know I make a killer chicken alfredo?" he speaks out, making you pull an interested face as you were very much not. "Especially with garlic bread."
"Make sure to make that once you get home, safe travels," you wave, trying to turn away but was once again stopped by his voice.
You could feel your kindness slowly leaving your body. Was this the day you would be arrested and charged for murder?
"You know what's the secret with making the pasta?" Pedro questions as Joon replies back a curious, "What?"
"The sauce!" he exclaims as you try to control yourself. He was definitely pushing your buttons but you had to stay calm- you had to.
Joon was too interested in the conversation Pedro was beginning, trying to ask what was in this mysterious sauce. You knew you had to interject or you would both be ticketless.
"Maybe you can tell us about this secretive sauce on Monday, when we next see you," you force a laugh, trying to slowly take a few steps back to inch towards the entrance doors. "We really have to g-"
"Why wait till Monday when I can tell you now?" he claps, getting reading to explain his recipe. "For starters, you need a thick, sauce that can sp-"
"Oh my god!" you squeal, causing both men to jump and stare at you in shock as you rambled on. "The parking structure is around the block, my number is 912- just park and come up! Let's go, Joon!"
With that, Joon and you ran inside and Pedro smiled to himself. His planned worked. He guessed the only way to get to you was by speaking nonsense until you gave in- he'll remember that in the future.
Rushing through your door, you took your coat off as Joon pulled his laptop out if his backpack and set it next to your desk.
You looked at it confusingly before asking, "you carry your laptop with you to work?"
"Duh, an intern should always be prepared for computer work," he replies as if it was the obvious rule we should all know.
Shrugging, you turned on your PC and immediately went to ticketmaster, finding that the tickets weren't going on sale until 35 minutes from now. "We still have time to breathe." That was until you heard light knocks on your door. "Spoke too soon."
Walking up to your door, you see that no one was out there.
That was until Pedro decided to jump out from the side and scare the living shit out of you.
"I'm not doing this," you glare, trying to slam the door on his face, but he forced his way in while laughing at the scream you exhaled before.
You stared at him with no expression as he fell to the floor, continuing to laugh as if your fear was the funniest thing in the world. Joon was even silently giggling in the corner, stopping when you made eye-contact with him.
Trying to find a bowl to fill with water so you could throw at him, your plans were interrupted when you heard your roommate's voice boom across the room.
"Who the fuck is making so much noise?! Some of us are trying to sleep- ah! Why is Mr. Boss here?" Jules' gasps, jumping behind the hallway wall and peeking only her head out, too embarrassed to show off her hello kitty pajamas.
"He's gonna make us some pasta with his secret sauce," Joon happily states as she just gives him a confused look.
"Plus, it's almost 3 in the afternoon...," Pedro adds, giving her a baffled look as to why she is barely waking up.
She just gives him an awkward glance before running back to her room, shutting the door. Saturday's were her day off, of course waking up after 5pm was normal.
"The time limit just turned green! Refresh to join the waiting room-" Joon began screeching, doing so on his computer as you jumped around Pedro to do the same on your PC.
Slowly walking up to where Joon was, Pedro began examining the situation you two were in. Reading over your computer screen, his face fell. "The 1975 2022 World Tour...were you guys seriously trying to buy concert tickets this whole time?!"
Joon and you exchanged innocent glances to one another, not sure if he was judging you for your dedication.
"No, we still are trying to buy tickets," you simply reply, pushing him away from your computer.
His negativity was bad luck.
"This is why you were rushing to get home? All for-"
"Be gone, pessimist. Your energy is not it," you frown, moving your game chair to block his view from your screen. "Joon, block your computer, we can't afford his cynical attitude to ruin our chances of making out with Matty Healy."
"Making out with Matty Healy? You still want that? How is he gonna notice you?" Pedro asks, trying hard not to laugh in your face.
You were quiet for a minute. It was just a crazy thing you said because of all the videos you had seen online whenever it was somebody's birthday or they were just a lucky fan in the front.
You weren't actually dedicated to kissing him, but you did wish.
Joon slowly raised his finger, pointing at Pedro. "You're famous, right? Maybe if you went he'll notice us?"
Eyes widening, Pedro quickly shook his head as you placed your hand over your mouth. He was right, maybe he wouldn't kiss you, but he would for sure meet you if he found out a famous actor with over a million followers on Instagram attended his show.
"Not a chance," Pedro declared, ignoring your puppy dog gaze as you just hoped doing it for long would make him so uncomfortable he would give in.
Nudging Joon, he followed your actions with the sad stare, the two of you in front of the poor actor, leaving him really no choice. You were even thinking about calling Jules out to help, but she probably wouldn't appreciate it by her state of looking homeless.
But if it were on a work day she would totally be in.
"You just look like a deformed bull terrier," he says, pulling a disgusted face. "It's kind of unattractive."
"What is that?" you urge, watching Joon hold a laugh.
"The target dog," Joon answers for you.
Shrieking, you smack Pedro in the arm. "My god, woman! You always hit me."
"You're coming with us to the concert," you announce, watching him roll his eyes. Before he could reject your demand, you beat him to it, "if you don't I'm never talking to you again."
"Please, I've been wishing for that for weeks now," he cheers. "Plus, I'm pretty sure I am busy the day they come."
Pulling yourself close to the computer, you check to see the day they were arriving. "So you're saying you aren't free November 7th?"
"Kid, that's basically a year from now. I can't guarantee anything."
"Damn, you're right," you frown, your mood going down. Joon's idea was pretty amazing, but just wrong timing since the concert was so far away. "You can leave now."
"And what about that famous chicken alfredo?" Pedro chuckled, finding your change in demeanor amusing. You must really love these indie boys.
You were about to reply when Joon intervened. "Oh my god! We are in the queue!"
Twisting your head, you could see the clock had hit 3 o'clock exactly. How did time go by that fast?
"Holy shit! Everybody disconnect from the house wifi on your phones! We can not have anything disturbing us!"
Pulling out your phone, you did what you ranted on and made sure Joon did the same. You even ran to Jules' door and banged on it until she confirmed she did so.
Running back to the computer, you could see there was still 983 people in front of you while Joon had 754. "Why is your computer going faster?"
"This laptop-," he sheepishly smiled. "-cost a fortune, but works like a charm."
Turning back to the screen, you saw the purple line move closer. Not even three minutes in and you only had 534 people left while Joon had 312.
You don't know what you did, but God was certainly rewarding you.
"You're honestly really weird," Pedro confessed, staring at your computer screen. "And sad."
"You would be if you were about to buy tickets to see the love of your life."
"I wouldn't pay anything, money can't buy love," Pedro insists, pulling a chair from your table and placing it in between Joon and you.
"That's very romantic," you swipe an imaginary tear from your cheek. "Save it for the cameras."
His jaw drops as you return back to your computer. In a few moments you were about to be inside the room and you were beyond scared. If you did not get these tickets you don't know how much longer you'll have to live.
"I'm in!" Joon shouts, causing you to jump to his screen.
Great, the two of you were going together anyway so it works out.
"Fuck, what's the presale code?!"
Placing your hands on your head as he begins to panic, you die inside. What the fuck were you going to do now? "Go on Twitter and check!"
To say Pedro was not intrigued would be a lie. It was very fascinating seeing how strongly engaged you were just for a damn ticket. To be honest, he thinks you would be great on a reality tv show- your expressions were just off the roof. He wonders if other people genuinely acted like you.
"It's probably something super simple, try 'thesound,'" you exclaim, watching as he typed right away but frowning when it denied it. "try 'somebodyelse.'"
After each attempt of every famous song they had, it was still wrong. What pissed you off even more was that fans were gatekeeping the code no matter how many times Joon and you tweeted for help.
Greedy little shits.
Eventually, your screen allowed you into the room as well. It was no use, you didn't have the code. "I think I'm going to have a panic attack," you clutch your chest as you felt your lips quiver from sadness. "We were so close."
Pedro just stared at you not believing how miserable you suddenly became. Is this how easily young people let concerts take over themselves? Do people really idolize artists that much to the point where they feel depressed if they don't get tickets?
He shivered imagining how BTS fans dealt with this pressure.
"Let me try," Pedro speaks up, pushing you to the side as he began typing away on your keyboard.
It never hurts to try, right?
Innocently clicking away, your face fell as the check mark appeared, unlocking the room for you. "He got in!"
Hurriedly jumping to the screen, Joon urged Pedro to do the same as you began searching through the seats. Instantly clicking on the floor, you hit the continue button for 2 seats.
Feeling your nerves kick in, your hands begin to shake as you typed in the needed information in order to complete your order. But once you pressed 'place your order," your world stopped.
Ignoring your surroundings, you only focused on the screen. Quietly praying, you're sure Joon and Pedro could hear your desperate requests to the ruler of the universe to grant you your biggest wish: these tickets.
You Got The Tickets To The 1975!
Feeling weightless, you screamed so loud you were sure your neighbors were going to call the cops. Joon looked over, doing the same cheers once he realized you two were set for the show.
Jumping out of your chair, you practically tackled Pedro to the ground as you wrapped your arms around his neck and planted him numerous kisses all over his cheeks.
For once, you were happy you managed to outlast his annoying-self.
"I will forever be grateful for your existence!" you cheer, squeezing his poor body in your arms as he tried to remain in balance, laughing at how nice you suddenly became.
Planting a big kiss on his forehead, you turn to Joon and jump together in happiness. You couldn't believe you managed to score tickets, especially floor seats.
"Wait, what was the code?" Joon asked, pulling away from you and turning to Pedro who tried containing his grin.
"The 1975."
You dropped you arms, feeling incredibly stupid. How could you not write their name as a code attempt? It was shorter than 'it's not living if it's not with you.'
"Joon, we are officially the two dumbest people in New York City," you confess as he slowly nods before stopping.
"Not dumber than Jules though."
You heard her door open before her loud yelling appeared, "Well fuck you too!"
Ignoring her, you jump to Pedro who had his gaze on you already. "Welp! Since we got that out of the way, why don't you make some of that chicken alfredo with your sauce."
He smiled before realizing what you were asking. "What sauce?"
You roll your eyes before hitting his side. "The secretive one you were bothering us about."
Pedro bounces up once he understands what he had mentioned earlier. "Oh, right. That one," he chuckles. "I was kidding, I just wanted to see what you guys were dong."
Your face falls as Joon lets out a sad sigh. "Man, I really wanted to taste how thick and creamy that sauce was."
Pedro just tilts his head to Joon before pointing at the door. "It was great hanging with you guys though! Hey, at least we all worked together for those tickets! I'm gonna head out now, have a good rest of your evening!"
With that, he awkwardly backs away and opens the door, quickly running out before you could argue why he would lie about such a thing.
Before you could process what had just happened, he quickly opens the door again and peeps his head inside. "By the way, you don't actually like a deformed bull terrier," he clarifies. "I was kidding, maybe a cavalier king charles spaniel, those are precious."
And again, he runs out. This time, your face was pretty noticeable when it came to how much redness was present. You cringed to yourself, the littlest of compliments always made you blush- it made you sick.
Joon and you exchanged confused looks to each other. Pedro was a very interesting man.
"What is a cavalier king charles spaniel?" you lightly question.
"The dog in the arms of an angel commercial," Joon simply replies.
Reaching his car, Pedro quickly unlocked the door before jumping in. He felt his heart beating fast, not sure why it was doing so.
Was it because he adored how committed you were for those damn tickets? Maybe. Or how your eyes sparkled once you realized you got the right code? Possibly.
How you kissed him and pulled him in close? Most definitely.
But he would never reveal such a thing to anyone. People would take it wrong and believe he had feelings for you. All he had were feelings one would have for another close friend like you.
His heart was beating because he was excited for you, that's all.
Walking around the studio Monday morning was exhausting. Not only did you pull an all-nighter Saturday night because you were too happy to fall asleep, but you only managed to gain a few hours of sleep on Sunday as you were too busy trying to finish homework due that same night.
"Are you alright? Do you need water?" you heard Bella worriedly ask as you pulled a hoodie over your head and walked near the snacks table.
"I need a pill that can wake me up."
"That could be arranged," she joked, stopping when you sent her a serious look. "Not by me, of course."
Bella managed to wake you up a little once she suddenly pulled out her phone and turned the flash on, flashing it all around your face. "Are you trying to make me blind?!"
"It's supposed to wake you up, is it working?" she grinned, still shoving her phone up your face.
Grabbing her wrist, she stops. "No."
"Damn, that sucks."
Somehow you managed to pull yourself together, walking to where the rest of the interns were once you heard all the directors call out for an urgent meeting.
Probably wanting one of you to run to the coffee shop for coffee as usual.
Seeing Pedro waving at you from the side of his cast's group, you smiled and returned it. He then proceeded to make a confused face, wondering why there was an emergency meeting being held.
You sent the same look, adding a shrug because you were feeling the same. You weren't aware about what was going on, but noticing how many people were present- it must be a big deal.
Finn walked in and stood near the director, sending you a smile that didn't look natural.
If anything it looked fake and...sad?
"A lot of you are probably wondering why I called everyone down here on this early morning," you hear one of the directors begin, making some people nod while others just patiently waited for him to continue. "Starting with wonderful news, we have just been given access to explore our visuals and proceed to try out different surroundings in regards to our planned perception for the series."
Hearing a few people clap, you do the same. You were glad that the set was upgrading, but what did they have to do with everyone?
"Unfortunately," you heard him begin, causing your breathe to hitch. "with locations being held in various places like Canada, we are going to have to make cuts."
Feeling your heart drop, you already knew who he was planning to remove. A big series like this can't send interns they don't care about out of the country for help and you sure as hell couldn't afford to pay for the travels yourself if it came down to it.
You didn't want to make eye-contact with Bella or Pedro and feel their condolences through their expressions. All you wanted to do was be cut already so you could go home and cry at home.
To cry over a job was pathetic, but considering how much you learned and loved to manage it for the past couple months, it was sad to let it go.
As the director went down the list of small departments he planned on letting go, he finally made it to yours. "As for the interns, we are especially grateful for the hard work you brought to this set and trying to fill not only our needs but the casts. If we have any open positions in the near future we will make sure to grant you priority, and if you ever need letters of recommendations for your future activities, I am sure Finn would be able to handle that behind closed doors..."
You zoned out after that, not really caring what else was being said. It was the typical its not us excuse, claiming the company couldn't provide for all of their workers yet were able to spend millions of dollars on each location and its visuals.
The meeting was over when you noticed the directors and producers giving a final sympathetic look to the crowd, bowing their heads before walking back to where their offices were located.
"I feel like crying," you heard Jules sniffle, patting her under eye with her sweater. "But I took time on my eye makeup so I can't!"
Rubbing her shoulder, you tried to distract her from her tears coming out as Joon stood next to you guys, telling her funny spongebob jokes that she did not understand.
"Uh oh, Mr. Boss is coming. He's gonna make me cry, I can't hear his sorrow," Jules' explained, turning her back the other way.
"Hey, kids," you heard Pedro lightly say.
"The tears are coming out!" Jules' exclaimed, running away to the nearest bathroom while Joon and you looked at each other, feeling extremely bad for her.
"Sorry about that," Pedro awkwardly started, continuing once you shook off his unnecessary apology. "I just wanted to talk, see how you guys are handling the unfortunate news."
Joon was the first to speak, sounding surprisingly calm for someone who just lost his internship. "It sucks, but at least it was for an understandable reason. Traveling costs money. Plus, we go to school here, we can't just leave."
You nodded, agreeing with what he said. It was true, you should have known this job would've ended sooner than later, there was only so much you could have done inside a film studio.
The series was an apocalypse that needed feature more outside and environmental sets that looked deadly than a building that was only useful for inside takes.
"How about you?" He questions, sincere eyes following yours as you shrug.
"I am sad but that's the industry," you force out a small chuckle. "If you aren't cut at least once, you aren't gaining the full experience."
Right after you said that, you felt tears lining around the inner corner of your eyes. Looking down, you tru to contain yourself. "I'm going to go check up on Jules."
Reaching out for you, Pedro tries to console you but you were out of his reach in seconds. He hated the tears in your eyes and his job being the reason behind it.
He felt as if it were his fault for your departure when he knows he shouldn't.
It also didn't make him feel any better that Joon followed straight after you once you walked away. He knew he had to do something but he wasn't sure.
All he knew was that he would rather see you smile than cry.
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