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kirammanswifey · 12 days ago

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arcane characters in an alternative universe x fem reader

writer's note: hello guys... so i have been sooo obsessed with this idea since i finished season 2 and i wanted to share it with the world, hope u guys like itttt. also i'll probably continue this as a series, so be free to give any feedback or ask for suggestions ;)

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

Viktor

job: viktor is a renowned scientist specializing in artificial intelligence and robotics, highly recognized for his research in biotechnology. he's also a guest lecturer and a leader in technological innovation.

hobbies: he would enjoy scientific documentaries, philosophical readings, and stargazing. viktor would take nighttime walks to gaze at the stars and ponder the universe's mysteries. he might also love solving intricate puzzles and sudoku, always seeking intellectual challenges.

social media: on linkedIn, viktor would share articles about his scientific breakthroughs and collaborations in the field of biotechnology. on Instagram, he would keep a low profile but occasionally post pictures of his lab or progress in his research. from time to time, he might upload a story featuring his dog or a visit to the park for some mental clarity.

music: he enjoys classical music and electronic instrumental pieces, a blend of avant-garde with a touch of nostalgia. pianists like ludovico einaudi or experimental electronic composers like amon tobin would be to his liking.

favorite food: viktor enjoys simple yet comforting meals. he loves complex soups like spicy ramen or handmade italian pasta. everything must be fresh and minimally processed.

lifestyle: he would live in a minimalist, functional apartment equipped with advanced technology tailored to his health needs. viktor would maintain a strict exercise routine to manage his condition but remain private about his life. he’d find solace in a structured routine of rest and meditation.

how you’d meet: you would meet him as a journalist interviewing him at a scientific event where he’s presenting his research. your curiosity and sharp questions would surprise him, and although he’s initially reserved, he ends up revealing more of himself. after the interview, you ask him out on a date, intrigued by his worldview and genius. the encounter would be tense yet captivating, and the chemistry would be immediate.

Jinx

job: jinx would be an influencer and video game streamer, but with a unique twist: she creates explosive content, featuring “experiments” and pranks infused with rebellion and subversion. her personal brand is chaos and limitless creativity.

hobbies: jinx would be highly creative, loving visual arts, graffiti, and digital art. she's an avid gamer, drawn to chaotic, open-world games filled with action and unpredictability. another hobby could involve collecting rare or unusual items, filling her space with eclectic and seemingly nonsensical objects.

social media: jinx would totally dominate platforms like tiktok and instagram, posting chaotic videos, bizarre memes, and unpredictable content. she also has a twitch channel to stream her wild activities, like creating art or "breaking things" on live. her followers would never know what to expect, as she loves to surprise them.

music: jinx is a fan of punk and electronic music. bands like the clash and die antwoord resonate with her rebellious spirit. she loves loud, energetic music, perfect for maintaining her high adrenaline levels.

favorite food: she loves fast food, but not just any fast food—the more eccentric, the better. a xxl burrito loaded with sauces or a hot dog with wild toppings are her favorites, and of course, sweet things, she would eat crumble cookies for breakfast almost everyday.

lifestyle: jinx’s life would be messy and disorganized, likely living in an apartment full of creative chaos where her imagination runs wild. she’d be constantly on the move, rarely staying in one place for long due to her restless nature.

how you’d meet: you first caught jinx’s attention through your positive comments and donations in her streams. at a fan event, when it was your turn, you introduced yourself as the one who had been supporting her content and suggested a collaboration, since you were a new streamer. to your surprise, jinx agreed right away, leading you to her manager, and winked at you before the event continued.

job: vi would be a personal trainer at a gym where high-profile personalities often train. she’s both physically and emotionally strong, helping others unleash their own power.

hobbies: vi would love contact sports like boxing and gym training. she might also enjoy martial arts. her loyalty would make her eager to reconnect with old friends or spend time with family whenever possible.

social media: vi might have an instagram profile focused on her active lifestyle and workout. she’d post photos from her daily routines and some snapshots with friends. she will definitely have a twitter account for direct, unfiltered takes on societal issues.

music: she likes classic rock and some hip-hop to keep her energy high while working out. the rolling stones and eminem would be among her favorites.

favorite food: vi enjoys healthy, energy-boosting foods like fresh quinoa salads and protein shakes. occasionally, she indulges in organic beef burgers, but her diet is generally balanced.

lifestyle: vi would live in a modest yet cozy space, likely in a less glamorous area. her home would reflect her rough-and-tumble nature, surrounded by people from her community. it would serve as a personal sanctuary amidst the chaos of her life.

how you’d meet: you’d meet vi as your personal trainer at the gym. as an actress just starting out, you needed to build a stronger physique for an upcoming role, and vi was the perfect fit. she saw your dedication, but also noticed that there was more to you than just physical strength. you understood discipline, but you also had moments where you needed emotional space to breathe, something she admired. vi, with her no-nonsense attitude, would push you to your limits, but also knew when to slow down and listen. through the intensity of the workouts, you'd both find a deep connection, bonding over your shared past struggles.

Caitlyn

job: caitlyn would be a lawyer specializing in civil rights and public defense, with a progressive agenda promoting social justice. she also has a strong influence on local policies, fighting for equity in underprivileged communities.

hobbies: caitlyn would enjoy outdoor sports like hiking or horseback riding, appreciating nature in her spare time. she also attend high-profile events or collect art. she’d value the company of intelligent people and cherish dinners with friends who share her worldview.

social media: caitlyn would have a professional presence on linkedIn and twitter, sharing insights about legal topics, public policies, and social justice. on Instagram, she might showcase her life as a high-profile attorney, attending events and offering glimpses of her personal life while maintaining a polished image.

music: her musical taste is varied, from classical composers like chopin to contemporary pop. however, she most enjoys music that helps her unwind after a stressful day at work.

favorite food: she loves gourmet dishes, especially mediterranean cuisine. she’s a fan of fresh salads with tuna, tabbouleh, and balsamic vinaigrette, but she also enjoys the trendy haute cuisine dishes.

lifestyle: caitlyn would reside in a chic, modern apartment in an upscale neighborhood, blending minimalism with sophistication. her structured life would revolve around work, with her social life carefully curated to complement her professional image.

how you’d meet: you’d meet as a client seeking her help with after getting a divorce with your ex husband. caitlyn, impressed by your intelligence and determination, decides to support you beyond the professional consultation. from there, a deep connection based on trust and mutual respect would begin to flourish.

Jayce

job: jayce would be a lead engineer at a renewable technology company, focused on creating sustainable devices that revolutionize the world. his charisma and passion would make him a regular at innovation conferences, where he inspires young inventors.

hobbies: jayce is passionate about outdoor sports, especially running and cycling. he enjoys being active, both to keep his body fit and to clear his mind. he also enjoys collecting tech gadgets and experimenting with new tools for his company.

social media: jayce is active on twitter, where he shares news about technological advancements, as well as his thoughts on the social impact of science. he also has an instagram, where he posts pictures of his outdoor expeditions and tech events, showing a more human and accessible side.

music: jayce has a diverse playlist that combines artists like imagine dragons, the weeknd, and 80s classics like journey. In his calm moments, he might listen to hans zimmer to relax with something epic and motivational.

favorite food: he loves italian food, especially homemade lasagna, but he also has a taste for desserts like tiramisu or a good cheesecake.

lifestyle: jayce would live in a modern loft with large windows and lots of natural light. his home would reflect his success and sense of style, with built-in technology that makes his day-to-day life easier. he likes to keep the space immaculate, but without making it feel too stark.

how you’d met: you met jayce at the launch event of a new tech device. you had come along with a friend but ended up having a passionate debate about potential flaws in the prototype jayce was presenting. rather than getting upset, he was impressed by your insights and invited you behind the scenes to discuss further. that interaction sparked a connection, both personal and professional, he even asked for your number.

Ekko

job: ekko's a young entrepreneur who runs a community workshop in a disadvantaged neighborhood, where he teaches children how to build gadgets and repair things. he also has a startup that creates accessible technological solutions.

hobbies: ekko loves skateboarding, painting murals with social messages, and designing gadgets in his free time. he likes to play video games and explore new virtual worlds.

social media: on instagram, ekko would share photos of his murals, videos of his skateboarding tricks, and technological projects. he would have a youtube channel where he teaches how to build things from scratch and shares ideas for social impact.

music: his playlist would include artists like childish gambino, tyler, the creator, and indie bands like gorillaz. he enjoys lo-fi and chill beats while working.

favorite food: he prefers street food, like tacos al pastor or gourmet hot dogs, valuing its connection to the community and the convenience of grabbing a quick bite to eat while he's busy.

lifestyle: ekko lives in a loft filled with tools, street art, and unfinished gadgets. although his life may seem chaotic, he finds a sense of order within his creative space.

how you’d met: you met ekko at an urban festival where he was showcasing skateboarding and street art. you approached him to ask about his mural, and he ended up telling you the story behind the design. when you mentioned your interest in social projects, he invited you to one of his community workshops. since then, art and creativity have connected you both.

Silco

job: silco is said to be the ceo of an unconventional investment firm, operating in both legal and grey areas. his presence in the business world is both feared and respected, and he's an exceptional strategist.

hobbies: silco enjoys mental games, reading philosophy, and political theory. he's so drawn to collecting rare and valuable historical objects. his strategic mind keeps him constantly occupied in finding new ways to consolidate his influence.

social media: silco doesn't have traditional social media, preferring to keep his personal life out of the public eye. however, he may be present in secret forums or private groups where he influences others' opinions. his focus is always on discretion, seeking control rather than exposure.

music: he prefers classical and jazz music, as both help him reflect on the nature of power. he likes composers such as bach and miles davis, whose music lends itself to both reflection and strategic planning.

favorite food: silco appreciates sophisticated dinners such as grilled steaks and red wine pairings, he has a taste for exotic dishes that reflect his unique style.

lifestyle: silco lives in a dark, minimalist penthouse, decorated with abstract art and exclusive pieces that reflect his reserved personality. his home is designed to be a refuge from the outside world.

how you’d met: you met silco at an exclusive art gallery, where you both seemed out of place compared to the more pretentious attendees. you made a sarcastic comment about an overly abstract piece, and silco, overhearing, couldn’t help but smile and reply with a similarly sharp remark. that initial spark led to a fascinating conversation about power, art, and ambition.

Mel

job: mel would be a high-level businesswoman, leading international consulting projects for large corporations. she's known for being a visionary in the most complicated negotiations.

hobbies: she loves collecting contemporary art and painting in her spare time. mel enjoys attending galas, cultural events, and traveling the world to discover new artists and traditions.

social media: her instagram shows her sophisticated life: exclusive events, international travel, and art in progress.

music: mel listens to contemporary jazz by artists like esperanza spalding or soul by adele, also likes the soft rhythms of sza while working or relaxing.

favorite food: she enjoys haute cuisine, especially seafood and dishes with exotic ingredients. she always accompanies her meals with a good white wine.

lifestyle: mel lives in a modern penthouse in a cosmopolitan city. her home is a mix of luxury and art, with minimalist decor that highlights her personal collection of unique pieces.

how you’d met: you met mel at a cultural retreat abroad, where both of you attended a dinner organized by a local art collector. while everyone else was engaged in small talk, you caught her attention by passionately discussing a sculpture by an emerging artist. intrigued by your perspective, she joined the conversation, and the exchange of ideas lasted all night.

Sevika

job: sevika it's a security manager at a well-known company, overseeing high-risk operations. she also has a personal business involving customizing motorcycles and tactical equipment.

hobbies: sevika do boxing, martial arts, and of course, rides her motorcycle. she enjoys billiards and hanging out at local bars with her friends.

social media: her instagram features photos of her bike, videos of her workouts, and casual moments at bars or gatherings. although, she's not very active.

music: she listens to classic rock bands like ac/dc and metallica, as well as punk groups like the clash, but she also has a softer side with occasional blues.

favorite food: she prefers home-cooked food like stews or well-made burgers, always with a craft beer on the side.

lifestyle: sevika lives in a simple but cozy apartment, with personal tools and memories. her lifestyle is practical and adapted to her need for constant movement.

how you’d met: she met you at a bar when someone was being annoying to you. she jumped in without a second thought, and it led to a deeper conversation about her life experiences. her interest grew when she saw that you weren't easily intimidated, and from there, you started hanging out.

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orimuraa · 2 months ago

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𓈒 🏁 ／ ⋆ ۪ Go big or go home - Lee Heeseung

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆famous model, y/l/n y/n, has caught the eye of famous f1 racer, lee heeseung, but how will they ever be able to interact when they're lives are so different? ⨾

۶ৎ f1 racer!heeseung x fem model!reader ┆fake dating to lovers, slow burn┆cursing, alcohol, age gap? (2 years), kissing, petnames, angst, some fluff┆ wc 4.8k

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: its finally here!!! tysm to everyone who waited for this and i hope you enjoy! this is my first super long fic and i would really appreciate reblogs and feedback! tysm!!

TEASER

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

the adrenaline of racing was always too much for y/n. her life was the exact opposite of that type of life and she never wanted to get in anything like that.

she had worked so hard for the reputation she now has, putting literal blood, sweet and tears into her career as a model.

but now look where she was. she was the global face of dior, prada, miu miu, louis vuitton and so many more brands.

everyone knew who y/l/n y/n was in korea. she was such an icon for the modeling world and never seen slipping up.

it was like she had no flaws.

but lee heeseung was the literal opposite of the whole life y/n had built for herself.

he was careless and daring, not completely caring about anyone’s opinions about him or his reputation.

not to mention, he was insanely hot. his looks stealing the hearts of many of his fans.

heeseung liked racing cause he felt like he could truly be himself—careless and reckless.

and heck, he’s made it his whole life now! he was an f1 racer who had quite the following now.

y/n was very much aware of who lee heeseung was, and even watched some of the races he was in.

she had to admit, he was indeed hot, but what would her fans think of her and heeseung?

her “fans” always criticized every man that got close to her, saying they were unworthy of her attention.

so to avoid anymore scandals that could truly ruin her career, y/n has steered clear of basically any man in sight.

heeseung couldn’t deny that the girl was pretty, she was drop dead gorgeous! but he knew what happens to people when they get too close to y/n, and that was something that he did not want happening to him.

“miss y/n! you’re going to be late for the fashion show due to the flight being delayed..” one of y/n’s staff informed, refreshing the flight page over and over.

y/n was supposed to fly out to a prada event in milan, but due to the weather, her flight was delayed by 2 hours, meaning she was gonna make it the the show late.

“then i guess we will have to get ready in the airport,” y/n sighed, subconsciously twirling a strand of her hair out of anxiety.

what was heeseung gonna do? he’s never been to a fashion show before! and not to mention, his staff has little to no experience with such fancy events like this!

his staff is for his races and making sure all his gear is in one spot for him, not dressing him up in a $10,000 suit for some prada show.

on the other hand though, heeseung was excited for a new experience, and he got a free flight down in first class! so it was a win-win.

his teammates were giving him a bunch of complaints out of jealousy because of a specific person.

and that person, was y/l/n y/n. his teammates were so jealous that he was going to the same event as her and had the chance to talk to her.

to heeseung, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal. big name celebrities go to these types of shows all the time! so what’s the big deal about y/l/n y/n?

sure she had the visuals of an angel and heeseung may or may not have felt a few butterflies whenever he saw her on a magazine or on an article online.

but now that he was actually gonna meet her (potentially), he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous.

y/n was able to make it out of the airport bathroom just on time where her staff rushed to get her ready for the show.

she arrived at the location of the show, mentally preparing herself for the camera flashes and screams around her.

once she stepped out of the car, she made sure to wave and smile politely to all the fans that waiting hours to see her.

“you’ll be sitting here next to mr. lee,” one of the hosts told y/n once she made it inside.

“oh hello! i’m glad i get to sit next to someone who speaks korean as well! my english is…well..not very good,” she smiled sheepishly.

“hi, i’m lee heeseung and yes, it is quite nice to have someone to converse with,” heeseung smiled, a couple of unwanted butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.

“ah right! i’m y/l/n y/n,” she smiled, the lights dimming and cutting off their conversation.

throughout the show, y/n and heeseung shared light comments with each other and for once, y/n kinda forgot that she had the type of career and reputation that if she talked to a guy, she would be caught up in a dating scandal.

the after party was a very..unique?��experience. for heeseung, it was a very new experience to have such fancy people surrounding him while he was just a mere car racer.

but y/n made it better. they both weren’t big fans of going out and socializing with new people—especially if they needed to speak in their very broken english.

“so what’s it like? the thrill of racing?” y/n asked, nursing a glass of wine. why’d she even have it? she hated alcohol.

“it’s really an experience. you get to live life freely, not really caring about being reckless. it’s kinda my escape from the world, y’know?” heeseung chuckled, taking another sip of his glass.

“hm, must be nice..” y/n murmured, thinking about what her life would be like if she wasn’t a model and if she didn’t have all these expectations of being “perfect” all the time.

the two talked for the rest of the party, sharing small touches on the arm whenever one said something funny.

“thank you heeseung, for keeping me company and letting me be..well, myself,” y/n said softly. “i have to go catch a flight back to seoul but maybe we can stay in contact? here’s my number.” she said, sliding him a piece of paper.

“for sure. it was great talking with you y/n,” heeseung smiled back, sending her a small wink.

little did they know, someone had managed to get a few photos of their interactions.

the next morning, y/n and heeseung both faced faced the consequences of their actions.

FAMOUS F1 RACER, LEE HEESEUNG, AND FAMOUS MODEL, Y/L/N Y/N, ARE DATING?

the article shocked y/n and she immediately rushed to call her manager.

“what the fuck?” heeseung whispered to himself. he ran a hand through his hair, reading the article about him and y/n.

in the article, there was a photo of y/n touching his arm while laughing and heeseung is seen with a wide smile on his face.

fuck. he was so screwed. y/n was so screwed. he immediately opened twitter just to see his name and y/n’s trending for their dating scandal.

“oh for fucks sake!” he turned off his phone and threw it onto the bed.

y/n had just gotten off of her flight when the article reached her, making her push through the usual airport crowds of paparazzi worse.

“is it true you’re dating lee heeseung?”

“why lee heeseung? he’s no good for you!”

“y/n ssi? are the rumors true?”

it was all too overwhelming for y/n and the constant shoving and clicking of cameras was most definitely not helping.

it felt like she had to trudge a mile through mud just to make it to the car, letting a sigh of relief out as she sunk into the chair.

as she sat there though, she wondered how heeseung was taking it? he might have it worse than her since some of her “fans” were quite toxic to the people she got into scandals with.

he hasn’t texted..he probably wants nothing to do with me. y/n thought to herself, looking down at her empty messages.

all the way back in milan, heeseung was getting ready to head back to korea, not exactly thrilled to hear what his teammates had to say about his new scandal.

fuck. how’s y/n holding up? she must have it much worse than me. heeseung thought to himself, nervously bouncing his knee up and down.

once he made it to the airport, he was unexpectedly swarmed by crazy fans just trying to get an answer to their questions.

“are you really dating her? she’s too good for you.”

“how long have you been dating miss y/n?”

heeseung was not having it. he pushed his way through the crowd of people, pulling down his beanie even further.

throughout the flight, heeseung found himself constantly thinking about y/n. why though? did he really like her? or was it just out of pity? if these were the reactions to their dating scandal, how would they react if they were actually dating?

wait- when would they ever actually date?

either way, it would probably ruin both of their careers.

y/n paced back and forth, waiting for any form of contact from heeseung.

she didn't exactly expect him to contact her especially after this huge scandal, but she wanted to make sure he was doing okay.

she eventually gave up on waiting after another 30 minutes went by with no new notification.

with a sigh, she sat down on the couch, lost in thought.

would she be able to just ignore this scandal?

would it be just a quick scandal? or a long-lasting one?

many questions occupied y/n's thoughts, causing her to miss the way her phone vibrated next to her.

finally checking her phone, she saw a message from lee heeseung.

hey, i know i'm probably the last person you want to hear from but i just wanted to make sure you were doing okay with all the crazy fans

it took a couple minutes for y/n to actually process the words on the screen before quickly texting back.

oh hi heeseung! no worries, i was actually scared that you wouldn't wanna talk to me since it's mainly my 'fans' who are making this a big deal

she had only formally met heeseung for a day but she couldn't help but slowly fall for his charm.

y/n loved how care-free he was and despite his reputation as a racer, he was actually a sweetheart.

the next few days consisted of hiding from the public, not being seen anywhere, and a lot of meetings with her company about how they could cover up this scandal.

meanwhile, heeseung hadn't raced since he came back from milan which started to worry his teammates.

"dude, you alright? you've been so different since your scandal with y/n," one of his teammates stated, finally talking about the elephant in the room.

all heeseung did was sigh and stand up.

“yeah i’m fine,” he grunted, grabbing his jacket and walking out. his teammates exchanged glances with each other. it was obvious heeseung wasn’t doing well.

hey, are you free to meet up?

heeseung didn’t exactly know why he texted y/n.

why would she even wanna meet up with him? god he felt so stupid after sending that text.

sure! you can come over to my place! just make sure not to be seen

heeseung’s eyes widened as he read the text over and over. heeseung enjoyed y/n’s company and even though they were polar opposites, he found a source of comfort while talking to her.

she was so sweet and genuine with him unlike his crude teammates and competitors.

he quickly slipped on his shoes, clicking on the address y/n sent him.

when he arrived, he noticed how grand the apartment complex was. the building was clean and screamed “rich vibes”.

“you made it! hi heeseung!” as soon as the door opened, heeseung was greeted with y/n’s sweet smile.

“hey, sorry for the sudden text. i just..needed to talk to you,” he sighed, looking down at his shoes.

y/n took a guess that it was probably about their dating scandal so she just smiled sympathetically and let him in.

the first thing heeseung noticed about y/n’s place was how homey it was.

it was neat and had cute decorations that made heeseung smile.

she was such a professional model on camera and that’s all he’s known her for, so seeing this side of y/n was refreshing to see.

the plushies and little figured that scattered the shelves and furniture reminded him that y/n was still young and was practically living two lives.

“oh, sorry about the mess…here you can sit here,” she smiled sheepishly, moving a big stuffy off the couch and motioning for heeseung to sit.

“would you like anything to drink?” god she was so charming.

“oh! uhh no it’s fine, thank you though,” he smiled.

“soo..i assume that you’re here to talk about the scandal? i’m so sorry that you got into it with me,” y/n frowned. “i always hate when i just talk with someone and it means that i’m dating them.”

heeseung noticed the way y/n’s eyes looked down, almost like she was sick of her life.

“hey, no it’s okay. trust me, i would hate that too and you’re truly so strong for putting up with all that,” heeseung reassured. “but i wanted to actually..propose something.”

y/n’s eyes widened, curious about what heeseung had to offer.

“i’m listening,”

“okay, so i was thinking we would maybe…fake date? like, just until the paparazzi get off our backs and then we can break it off,” heeseung says, searching y/n’s face for any reaction. “it would benefit you and me from the scandals and articles and just…i don’t know. i just think it’s better than leaving this as a rumor.” heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“i get it…they might go crazy when it’s first announced and then they’ll move onto the next piece of drama..” y/n mumbled, fidgeting her hands. “let’s do it. plus, it might be fun to see each other’s lives!” y/n chirped, smiling at the thought of experiencing heeseung’s life.

“deal! it will end when the netizens move on from us,”

“yup!” y/n agreed, shaking heeseung’s hand. “but i think we should also establish some ground rules.”

the first day was all planned out. y/n and heeseung had both decided that they would rather make a statement about them dating than have a netizen figure it out.

y/n agreed to talk to her company, confirming the rumor with heeseung.

heeseung didn’t really have to do anything since a lot of f1 racers were free to date whoever they wanted.

once y/n was done with her meeting—which went surprisingly well and the company agreed to make a public statement about it—y/n went to go meet up with heeseung.

“hey? how’d it go?” heeseung asked, subconsciously twirling the straw of his coffee between his fingers.

“it went well actually. they weren’t that surprised and said they would make a statement later this evening. but, now we need to make it believable,” y/n said, thinking back to the ground rules they established.

“there’s no need for any pda when we aren’t in public, this is just for show so keep it casual. when we’re in public though, we have to make it believable so do anything to fool the media,” heeseung read off the paper. y/n just nodded, agreeing to all the rules.

“no catching feelings,” y/n added, just to be sure. but deep down, she wasn’t sure if she really wanted that.

“yeah, we can start by just holding hands and being more comfortable with each other?” heeseung suggested, trying not to make it sound awkward.

“mhm, that sounds good,” y/n mumbled, her mind somewhere else.

LEE HEESEUNG AND Y/L/N Y/N ARE CONFIRMED TO BE DATING

the articles started rolling in just 5 minutes after y/n’s company put out a statement.

y/n was nervously scrolling through the comments, reading the reactions to her and heeseung.

most were positive but there was wuite a few negative comments.

“hey, don’t worry about them, they’re just jealous that we’re such a power couple,” heeseung laughs, trying to cheer y/n up.

“yeah..you’re right. i just…can’t help it sometimes, y’know? i want to make my fans happy and i don’t want to feel like i let them down. so i often check their reactions to things i do..” y/n says, looking down at her lap. “it’s just become a habit now..”

heeseung would be stupid if he didn’t notice the way y/n’s mood dropped.

“no no no, it’s okay. we’re gonna get through this together and it will all blow over in a couple of weeks. besides, you might even have some fun getting to be a bit more free around me,” heeseung winks, causing y/n to giggle and look away.

the first time heeseung and y/n went out together now that they were a “couple”, fans spotted them immediately, taking photos, videos, only to post it on social media to get more clout.

heeseung made sure to secure y/n by wrapping an arm around her waist, tapping it occasionally to let her know that he’s there for her. like a real boyfriend would do.

heeseung was just a couple years older than y/n but he felt the need to protect her. truth be told, he enjoyed spending time with her, getting to see what she was truly like behind the scenes.

he hadn’t really been going to practice, opting to spend time with y/n and getting to know her better.

y/n still had her modeling duties to do, but she still made time to hang out with heeseung and she often brought him along to her shoots. his soft touches and little gestures made her stomach flutter.

by the end of the week, the whole media was convinced that y/n and heeseung were the “it” couple of the year.

they were so different yet they clicked so well. all of y/n’s staff were convinced, heeseung’s teammates, and the whole world basically.

but the downside to this all was that y/n had actually started to catch feelings for heeseung. she adored the way he laughed at her non-funny jokes like they were the funniest things ever, the way he looked at her with such adoration in his eyes, and his company.

his company made y/n so happy and she felt so..understood.

heeseung understood y/n’s situation and even though he was never in that type of spotlight, he felt empathy for the girl.

he was caring and let her rant about all her built up issues from her career, always paying attention to her.

that’s what y/n’s problem with heeseung was. he cared about her like no one else did. he made her fall for him, even though she wasn’t supposed to.

heeseung was dealing with something quite similar.

he was slowly falling in love with y/n. actually, scratch that. he was in love with y/n.

she always managed to light up the room with her presence and make heeseung smile.

her laugh was contagious and she was so sweet and bubbly. it was such a refreshing experience for heeseung as non of his teammates were ever like this.

y/n brought out a whole new side of him that he didn’t even know existed. he found himself becoming more caring around her and he was less reckless around her.

but he was so sure that y/n didn’t feel the same. after all, she was the one who made the rule not to fall in love with each other.

little did they both know, they were both falling in love with each other, thinking it was never gonna be reciprocated.

the second week passed by like no time at all. y/n had her photoshoots to go to and some local fashion events here in korea while heeseung busied himself with practice in hopes that his feelings would die down if he distracted himself with the upcoming big race he had.

y/n was also distancing herself a bit from heeseung. she was scared that her heart would be left broken once the fake dating ended.

she had fallen for lee heeseung.

the one thing she told herself not to do.

heeseung of course noticed her sudden distance and became worried for her.

“princess?” —a new nickname he had started calling y/n which made her stomach turn. “are you okay? i haven’t heard much from you and i got worried,” heeseung said, taking off his shoes as he entered y/n’s apartment.

“heeseung…i-i…i dont think i can do this anymore!” she blurted, her negative thoughts getting the best of her.

she watched as heeseung’s face fell, a darker look on his face now.

“what? what do you mean? what do you mean you can’t do this anymore?” he asked, anger laced in his voice.

“i’m sorry hee, i just…i can’t do this anymore! pretending we’re dating when we’re not! it’s just..not working for me..” y/n mumbled, to ashamed to look heeseung in the eye.

she was scared that if she told him the truth, he would get even angrier at her for breaking the rule she made.

“fine! be like that then! don’t tell me why you suddenly want to break this off! that’s fine with me, but don’t come crying back to me when everything falls apart for you!” heeseung seethes, slipping his shoes back on and slamming the door on his way out.

the second the door closed, y/n broke down. she fell to the floor, tears rapidly streaming down her face.

what had she done?

heeseung was beyond mad. but he couldn’t deny that his heart felt a little broken too.

he fell for y/n in these past couple weeks only to have it broken off with no explanation.

his big race was in a few days and he really wanted y/n to be there for him, but now, he didn’t even want to think about her.

the next few days were torture for the two of them. y/n had tried to distract herself with photo shoots, but how could she when heeseung’s big race was all her staff were talking about?

heeseung was similar to y/n. he was practicing for hours and hours, trying to forget y/n, but it was hard when he kept seeing her face on billboards and magazines.

they both didn’t want to admit that they fell for each other.

the day of the race, heeseung was warming up for the biggest race of his career. but he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart just by thinking that he wouldn’t have y/n there to cheer him on.

but he couldn’t get distracted now, he had a race to win for fucks sake.

y/n had to practically beg for the day off to her manager. she intended to make things right with lee heeseung.

so, in a baseball cap and a mask, she made her way to the stadium.

to be honest, y/n had no idea what she was doing here. it was clear that heeseung wanted nothing to do with her anymore yet she still needed to see him.

the public didn’t know that they had “broken up” yet so in their eyes, they were still the perfect couple.

after a couple days of moping around, debating whether or not she should tell heeseung how she actually felt about him, she decided that it was only fair that he knew the truth.

once she got to her seat, she really felt the energy in the stadium.

fans were screaming and cheering for all their favorite racers, but she was only here for one.

heeseung’s race was supposed to be the main event of the show tonight as he was going for a world record.

throughout the course of time y/n had spent with heeseung, she did in fact, learn a thing or two about racing, so she wasn’t completely stupid.

as the lights dimmed down and the cheers got louder, y/n could feel her heart quicken. she took off the hat and her mask as it got way too stuffy in the stadium.

from afar, she could see the figure of lee heeseung walking to his race car, his helmet in his hands as he waved to the crowd.

he looked so natural and free in his usual setting and it was like y/n got to experience a whole new side of him.

but then, he turned around, facing y/n’s direction, only to catch her gaze on him. his expression turned into an unreadable one before turning back around and slipping into his car.

once he was in his car, his opponents also got in their cars, now revving up the engines, ready to take off.

y/n nervously looked around at the opponents and then the countdown.

a girl in a skimpy outfit walked into the middle of the cars, a flag in her hands.

3..2…1! GO!

she blew the whistle and raised the flag, making sure to pose for the crowd before walking off once the cars had passed her.

the moment the cars took off, y/n stopped breathing. she watched as heeseung flew across the track, his speed intensifying more and more.

he was a whole lap in front of everyone else, which was a good thing…until it wasn’t.

“oh my god, he’s going too fast!” another person who was sitting next to y/n screamed. y/n’s gaze caught heeseung’s car and the person next to her was right. he was going too fast. he was gonna crash.

heeseung’s car was practically a blur of red, black and white as his car zoomed through the course.

but he never slowed down.

he only sped up.

y/n felt her heart drop as heeseung only moved faster. he was on the final lap, but it didn’t matter. he was going to win anyways but what mattered was his speed.

yes he was going for a world record but this was unsafe. he was going way too fast and he knew it.

heeseung sat in his car, hands tightly around the wheel. before he stepped into his car, he saw y/n.

what was she doing here? the days he spent after the argument with y/n were filled with regret. he should’ve never blew up at her like that.

he should’ve listened to her and her reasoning. he felt so awful. he was so sure she hated him.

so why was she in the stands, watching him? he sped faster, dying to finish the race. dying to tell y/n how fucking sorry he was. he was such an idiot for letting her go so easily. dying to tell her that he loved her.

as he crossed the finish line, he itched to get out of his car. he impatiently waited for all the other cars to come to a stop so it would be safe for him to run out.

something in y/n’s body told her to go. go to him and tell him how much she fell for him.

so that’s what she did. she got up from her seat, rushing down to the gate.

heeseung had the same intent because as soon as it was clear to get out, he threw open the door and rushed out.

his helmet discarded on the floor, not giving a single car for the world except for y/n.

there, he saw her waiting by the gates and he ran harder.

“y/n?? what are you doing here??” he breathed, his voice shaky from the adrenaline.

“i came to see you. i can to tell you how sorry i was and how much of a fool i wa-” she was cut off with heeseung’s lips pressing against hers.

their lips fit together like puzzle pieces and it felt so right. y/n quickly melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around heeseung’s neck.

pulling away, the two of them were breathless.

“i’m the one who should be sorry. i said some things that i shouldn’t have said and i hurt you,” heeseung’s tone was soft yet apologetic. tears sprang to y/n’s eyes as she smiled at heeseung.

“i think…i-i fell in love with you lee heeseung. that’s why i ended this. i was so scared that i would continue falling for you and eventually when it would end, i would be even more heartbroken. i didn’t want to end it but i felt like i had to,” y/n cried into heeseung’s shoulder.

heeseung sighed and wrapped his arms around y/n’s shorter frame.

“princess, i loved you too. i loved you the moment we met in milano,” he chuckled softly, kissing y/n’s head. “i’m so fucking in love with you it hurts.” he laughed.

“i guess that makes two,” y/n smiled, pulling away to look at heeseung’s face.

they both leaned in, connecting their lips one more time.

“i knew you’d win,” y/n whispered against heeseung’s lips.

“yeah?” he smirked, a cocky expression on his face.

the two stayed in each other’s arms for a bit longer, forgetting about the world outside.

“so are we dating for real now?” y/n asked.

“for real.” heeseung smiled, kissing her forehead one more time.

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

taglist: @blvengene, @punchbug9-blog, @hoshieee, @jxp1-t3r, @mrsjohnnysuh, @hommyy-tommy

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chelseaknoo · 2 months ago

Note

Hiii I love ur ficsss

Can u do a 2000 Eminem x latina/singer ???

2000s Eminem x Latina singer! Reader

Note:I wanted to make this fic like the other fic that I made.

You’re in your twenties, with a few years of experience already under your belt in the music industry. It’s been a whirlwind ride of late nights in the studio, long days on tour, and the thrill of live performances that leave you breathless. Tonight, you’re preparing for another show, meticulously applying your makeup in front of a mirror. The familiar buzz of a nearby radio fills the dressing room with a mix of chart-topping hits and hip-hop beats. It’s just background noise—until a new track begins to play

She's got curves in all the right places, and a smile that can light up the night,

I'd do anything to be with her, to hold her tight.

I dream about her every night, and think about her all day,

I'd give anything to be with her, to make her mine in every way.

Hearing it, you’re momentarily stunned—this is Eminem, known for his raw candor and biting verses, rarely this personal. Fans and media latch on, fueling speculation. For you, it’s a mix of flattery and curiosity, leaving you to wonder about the intent behind his words as they echo through your world.

You were performing at a festival, a massive event where music fans gathered from all over, creating a charged atmosphere that crackled with energy. It was one of the biggest performances of your career so far, and you’d just finished checking your setlist when word came through the grapevine: Eminem was also performing. The realization sent a thrill down your spine. After his recent track where he’d dropped your name with lyrics that had set the rumor mill ablaze, you knew there was a chance you might cross paths.

During Eminem’s performance, the energy was palpable. The crowd was on fire, hanging onto every lyric he delivered with his signature intensity and precision. Midway through his set, the beat shifted, and you recognized the opening notes immediately—it was the song he’d written about you. The realization sent a wave of heat rushing to your cheeks, and you couldn’t help but feel both flattered and completely taken off guard.

As the track played, the massive screen behind him lit up with visuals. To your surprise, a snippet from one of your own music videos appeared. It was you—dancing, singing, completely in your element. The image faded in and out, perfectly synced to the lyrics he was delivering. The crowd erupted, clearly catching the connection and loving every second of it.

You felt your heart race as you stood there, unable to take your eyes off the screen or him. The mix of admiration and boldness in his performance was undeniable—he’d just laid it all out there, right in front of thousands of fans. You pressed your fingertips to your lips, feeling the heat in your face as you blushed deeply. It was surreal, having someone like Eminem make such a public declaration, and for a moment, you were overwhelmed by a mix of embarrassment, pride, and something far more personal.

As you made your way backstage, the crowd’s cheers outside provided a distant, rhythmic roar. The corridors were a chaotic mix of performers, stagehands, and crew members hurrying by. Just as you reached a quieter corner, you saw him—Eminem, unmistakable in his hoodie and baseball cap, talking with his team. For a second, your heart stopped. The man behind the lyrics was just a few feet away.

He caught sight of you, paused, and then walked over, his eyes holding a glimmer of curiosity mixed with that familiar intensity. You met him halfway, every step feeling like a blend of surreal anticipation and adrenaline.

You’re in your twenties, a seasoned performer in the music industry, and tonight, you're at one of the biggest festivals of the year. The air buzzes with excitement, the ground vibrating beneath your feet as crowds scream for the next artist to take the stage. You can hear the faint pulse of the music outside as you finish your makeup in front of a backstage mirror, perfecting the final details of your look. The lights reflect off your eyes, capturing the adrenaline coursing through you.

But the excitement of the night isn't just about the performance. Earlier today, a new track dropped on the radio, and to your surprise, it featured none other than Eminem—mentioning you in his lyrics. His words have been replaying in your mind, each line burning themselves deeper with every replay:

*“She's got curves in all the right places, and a smile that can light up the night,

I'd do anything to be with her, to hold her tight.

I dream about her every night, and think about her all day,

I'd give anything to be with her, to make her mine in every way.”*

Hearing those lines for the first time left you stunned, a rush of disbelief mixed with flattery. Eminem, one of the most respected names in the game, had woven you into his story with words that were both bold and unmistakably personal.

Before long, you’re backstage at the festival, preparing to take the stage. The crew members buzz around, checking equipment and making sure everything runs smoothly. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifts, and you can sense him even before you see him—Eminem is here. He walks in with a confident stride, his presence magnetic and undeniable, his signature hoodie and serious expression unmistakable.

He spots you, and for a brief moment, his gaze softens, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. He approaches, and the noise around you seems to fade away.

"Hey," he says, his voice low but carrying over the hum of the backstage commotion. "I guess you heard the track."

You smile, trying to play it cool despite your racing heart. "Kinda hard to miss when you’re broadcasting my personal life to the world, don’t you think?"

He chuckles, a genuine sound that catches you off guard. "Guilty as charged," he admits. "I meant every word, though."

There’s a beat of silence between you two, heavy with a mix of tension and curiosity. You search his eyes, trying to read the man behind the verses that caught you off guard.

"So," you say, breaking the silence and tilting your head playfully, "was that your way of asking me out, or do you just enjoy making things complicated?"

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Maybe a little of both. Keeps things interesting."

Before you can respond, a stagehand interrupts, letting you know it’s almost time for you to go on. Eminem steps back but not before leaning in, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath.

"Break a leg out there," he murmurs, his voice just for you. "I’ll be watching."

With that, he turns away, leaving you with a pounding heart and a renewed energy. As you make your way toward the stage, you can’t help but smile, knowing that tonight's performance—and whatever happens next—just got a whole lot more interesting.

With that, you stepped onto the stage, the festival’s energy washing over you like a wave. The world might have gone wild for his lyrics, but now you had a story unfolding that was just yours—and it was only beginning.

Eminem stood backstage, his eyes locked on you as you took command of the stage. He had seen countless performers before, but there was something different about you—something captivating. The way you moved, the fluid grace with which you danced, and the effortless confidence you exuded as you sang each note—it all seemed to pull him in, leaving him momentarily spellbound.

The lights cast a glow around you, accentuating every curve of your body as you swayed in rhythm with the music. Your energy was electric, and it radiated out to the audience, who moved and sang along with you, completely entranced. Eminem found himself leaning forward, his focus narrowing to just you. Every step you took, every flick of your wrist, every note you hit—it all carried a magnetic power that he couldn't tear himself away from.

He watched the way your eyes sparkled as you connected with the crowd, how your smile lit up your entire face, adding an extra layer of vibrancy to your performance. There was a raw authenticity in how you poured yourself into every lyric, and he couldn't help but admire it. To him, it was as if you weren’t just performing—you were telling a story, one that demanded to be heard and felt.

"She's good," he muttered to himself, barely noticing the words slipping out. But it was more than just skill. There was something intangible—a spark that made you shine brighter than the stage lights themselves.

When you spun around and your gaze briefly flickered toward backstage, catching sight of him, a knowing smile played on your lips. For a heartbeat, it felt like time slowed down. He felt a rush of something unfamiliar—equal parts admiration and intrigue.

As the final beats of your song echoed and the crowd erupted in cheers, Eminem couldn't help but smile, his awe evident. You took a bow, breathing heavily but radiating pride. And as you walked off the stage, he knew one thing for certain: you weren’t just another artist on the lineup. You were someone unforgettable.

As you stepped off the stage, the roar of the crowd still echoing in your ears, you felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your heart was pounding, and your chest rose and fell with each deep breath as you tried to ground yourself after the electrifying performance. As you made your way backstage, wiping a sheen of sweat from your forehead, your gaze fell on Eminem.

He was standing off to the side, his eyes fixed intently on you. There was no mistaking the look in them—complete awe and genuine admiration. He seemed mesmerized, as if he was replaying every moment of your performance in his head. For a second, you locked eyes, the world around you fading away. The intensity of his stare made your pulse quicken, but you managed to keep your composure.

A playful, almost shy smile curved your lips. You held his gaze for a moment longer, letting the connection linger before breaking it with a soft laugh. Then, with a casual flick of your hair, you turned and began walking toward your dressing room, your team moving around you like a wave of support. You could feel the weight of his attention, even as you walked away.

Inside the dressing room, you exhaled, your reflection in the mirror still glowing from the thrill of the stage and the encounter. As you fixed your hair and adjusted your outfit, you couldn’t shake the memory of his eyes on you, the way it made you feel seen—not just as a performer, but as something more. It was a moment that would linger, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last time your paths crossed.

As you touch up your makeup in the mirror, perfecting every detail, you take a moment to admire your reflection. The adrenaline from the performance still buzzes through your veins, and the roar of the crowd echoes in your ears. Just as you pick up your brush to fix a final smudge, the door behind you opens. You barely register it, assuming it’s someone from your team.

“Nice show out there.”

The unexpected sound of his voice makes you jump. Turning quickly, you find yourself face-to-face with Marshall—Eminem. There’s a spark of amusement in his eyes as he leans casually against the doorframe. You try to steady your breath, suppressing the thrill running through you.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he adds with a smirk. “Well, maybe a little.”

“Mission accomplished,” you reply, recovering with a smile. “But thanks. Glad you caught it.”

He walks over, closing the door behind him. The air between you grows charged. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of you, close enough that you can see the flecks of gray in his eyes.

“You’ve got everyone wrapped around your finger out there,” he says, his voice low. “Kinda impressive.”

“Is that a compliment?” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “Coming from you, I’ll take it.”

“Yeah? You should.” He steps even closer, and suddenly, his hands are on your waist. Without warning, he lifts you effortlessly, placing you on top of the desk. You barely have time to catch your breath as he moves between your legs, his presence overwhelming, his gaze intense.

“You always surprise me,” you murmur, feeling your pulse quicken.

“Good,” he replies, his lips curving into a slow smile. “I plan to keep it that way.” He leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “But you know,” he adds softly, “seeing you like this, up close? Way better than any stage.”

Before you can respond, his lips find yours. The kiss is firm and confident, with just a hint of the hunger simmering beneath the surface. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the connection, losing yourself in the moment. Time seems to slow, the world outside the door fading away until it’s just the two of you.

When he pulls back, there’s a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ve been waiting for that,” he admits, his voice husky.

“Were those lyrics just an elaborate setup?” you tease, still catching your breath.

“Maybe,” he says with a grin, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Worked, didn’t it?”

You laugh, the sound light and easy, feeling the tension melt away. “I guess it did.”

His hands linger at your waist, fingers tracing idle patterns. “I’d say we make a pretty good duet.”

“Is that your way of saying you want more?” you challenge, feeling bold.

“Definitely,” he murmurs, leaning in again. “And I’m just getting started.”

As Marshall’s lips trail down your neck, a soft sigh escapes your lips. His hands rest firmly on your waist, pulling you closer as you run your fingers through his hair. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming, and every touch, every breath, feels electric. The room seems to shrink around you, narrowing your focus to just him—until the door suddenly swings open.

“Yo, Marshall, you ready for—oh, hell no.”

You both freeze. Turning your heads simultaneously, you spot Proof standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised, a mix of shock and amusement playing across his face. His eyes widen as he takes in the scene—Marshall standing between your legs, hands still on your hips, your flushed faces. There’s a beat of silence, and then Proof bursts out laughing.

“Oh, this is rich,” Proof says, leaning against the doorframe and shaking his head. “Am I interrupting something? Nah, scratch that. I know I’m interrupting something.”

Marshall lets out a low groan, pulling back slightly but keeping his hands firmly on you. “Man, do you ever knock?” he snaps, though there’s a hint of a grin tugging at his lips.

“Marshall, you ready to go out and celebrate? The night’s still young."

Marshall doesn’t even look up at him, his focus entirely on you as he steps closer. He takes a slow breath, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Celebrate, huh? Nah, I think I’ll pass on that. I’ve got better plans tonight.”

Proof raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Oh yeah? And what's that?"

Marshall’s lips curve into a flirtatious smile as he moves even closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper. "I’d rather spend the night with her, if you don’t mind." His eyes lock onto yours, a heat building between you both as his gaze lingers, making it clear he’s not just talking about any casual hangout.

You feel your heart skip a beat as Marshall leans in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. "She’s the one I’m celebrating with tonight," he adds, his tone rich with intent, sending a shiver down your spine.

Proof chuckles, looking between the two of you, clearly understanding what’s going on. "Alright, alright, I get it. I’ll leave you two to it. Just don’t keep me waiting too long." He smirks, walking toward the door. “But you owe me a drink later, man.”

Marshall barely acknowledges him, his attention fixed on you. As Proof exits, Marshall turns back, that same smirk never leaving his face. “Now, where were we?” he says, his tone both playful and hungry, eyes never leaving yours. <3

#eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #eminem #eminem imagine #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers #slim shady #feminine reader #fluff and smut #famous!reader #singer reader

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0phantom0 · 25 days ago

Text

If only... E.W

pairings~ suicidalellie ×reader

warnings~ self harm, suicide, bipolar disorder, addiction. ( I have experience with all of these things so I'm not writing off stereotypes.)

summary~ after meeting ellie your life seems to have turned completely upside down in the best way possible, everything is going great until ellie has a sudden change of mood.

my breath lingered in the air, causing condensation to cover my cold phone. I was wordlessly staring at Ellie's contact. She had still not opened my message after three days of it being sent. I didnt even care about her replying anymore, I just needed a sign to say she was okay. Anything. whether it being a notification that she had read my message, or even the app saying that she was online. I waited. I waited more. Nothing, nothing at all. I started to feel a deep sorrow filling my lungs, like a dark murky water infested with everything i feared. it felt like it was flooding my entire body, that i was nothing but a hole of pain and helplessness.

When i first met Ellie, she was like a light in my foggy life, like a new path of happiness, something I had been searching for my entire life. She would always be there, right by my side with that gorgeous smile on her face, ready to crack one of her stupid dad jokes to hear the sound of my laugh echo through her ears. But for the past few weeks, I began to feel less of Ellie's presence. Almost as if that light guiding the path was flickering, dimming, losing its spark.

She had told me about her past. How she had problems communicating when things were getting bag again, having trouble explaining why she did what she did. Of course there was always a scientific explaination to Ellies pain, but she said that it didnt really explain in detail how she felt, the words on the screen didn't strike her with relisation and emotion. They were just letters.

my phone had turned off now, leaving me alone in the dark cold room of my house. the only thing warm about anything was the tears running out of my eyes and down my neck, creating an uncomfortable feeling of them dampening my shirt. My breathing quickend, feeling as though my lungs could not fill enough with all the air I had to suck in. Gripping my shirt, I stood up, shaking slightly from the sudden pace of movement. All the the thoughts flooding to my head, to many to keep up with, my brain speeding through visions of the mabye futre, and past. I was putting myself in horrific scenearios. And then it hit me. The ding of my phone, the slight, normally quiet sound was now like an ominous siren, screaming, daring me to pick up the phone. my shaking hand slowly edged towards the edge of my bed, I cautiously handled the device, almost as if in one wrong move it would shatter.

' one new notification from 'Ells<3''

my heart plummeted back into place a small smile that didnt quite reach my eyes found its way back onto my face. My fingers,shuddering slightly from the sudden adrenaline, move quickly across the screen trying to type in my password. Once I did I was exitedly clicking onto her contact, only for my exitment to be short lived and immediately replaced with worry and disatisfacation, for the uncanny message I got was:

' Ells<3 deleted a message'

I study the new words on my screen, waiting to discover something upon the message. My brain replied with a short message of

'?, you okay Ellie?'

she was quick to reply, supposing that she had been waiting there on the othere line for my answer.

' mhm. just love you'

usually I would have been quite flustered with the small message but in this instance it had a deeper, dispondent meaning. I was worrid. Terrifed even, then it hit me. Everything hit me. The way she had started to wear longer sleeves instead of her beloved band t-shirts, the unusual case of her sharpeners missing the blade, how she had been disancing herself with me. everything registers in my head, all the missing peices to these scatterd visuals.

panic took over my body as my vision clouded slightly, my heart felt heavy as my brain did not. withought registering what I was doing my legs were already on the move. clumsily walking towards my front door and grabbing my car keys. I left my door open, there was no time to shut it for what might come. My hands harshly squeezing the sharp edge of the keys, leaving a small irritated mark on my palm as I pressed random buttoms on the device, trying to unlock my car door.

minutes passed. I was driving as fast as I possibly could without death, but yet it did not seem fast enough. The pace of my breathing rapid as I tried to recall the route to Ellie's house. my face was still but slightly paniced as tears poured out of my eyes and into my open mouth. My heart felt small yet big at the same time, like it was being streatched and sprawled to withstand all the pain and dispair it was recieiving.

as I pulled up to Ellie's house, I instantly opend my car door and flung myself out with a newfound urgency, not bothering to get into a safer parking space instead of in the centre of the road. I was sobbing, almost screaming hystericlly now trying to search for Ellie's spare key she always left under the door matt. A vision clouded my memory of Ellie and I standing drunkenly at the front porch of her home, we were laughing as she scurried to show me her 'awesome' hiding space for her dinosour shaped key she got custom designed for herself. Mabye if my past self saw myself now, trying to break down the door because I couldnt remember where she kept that stupid fucking key, I might of avoided the relationship entirely, or made it her life mission to do anything she could to stop Ellie from having another episode.

I snapped back into reality as the door swung open, my right shoulder now cut and bleeding from the repetitive impact onto the door, I rush across her kitchen and up the stairs, screaming Ellies name, the words now sounding forgein on my tounge, I could feel the desperation of my voice. The vibrations of the sounds itching and clawing at my throat, all while I grasped at the railings of the staircase, hauling myself upstairs.

I turned every corner I could, trying to be as silet as I could as I heard my weeping echo through the hauls. I heard a quiet buzz from the bathroom light across the hall, the yellow hues and tones illuminating the dark and eerie walls. I vigilantly tread through to the bathroom as I peaked my head throught the door.

at first I saw nothing, then the small strands of auburn hair floating from the bathtub caught my attention.

My breath hitched as I called out her name.

No repsonse. But I still heard a wavering and asthamtic breath.

I rushed towards her side, yanking the shower curtain off the rod in the process, I was met with the sight that would always be in the back of my mind, waiting to pounce as soon as I kept my gaurd down, that would keep me up at night screaming till my lungs bled and clawing at my skin.

Ellie layed there, bleeding out into the drain of the bath tub, with a pale face and cold skin, deep cuts carved into her arms with a bottle of ketamine empty, laying there, mocking me by her side.

I shrieked louder for anyone to hear, I was no longer breathing instead bawling and seize my phone from behind me, calling 911.

as I press the call button my my phone with my shaking hands, still sobbing hystericaly as my clothes were now soaked with the salty liquid I felt her cold hand touch mine.

' Hello 911 whats your emerancy?' I heard the dispatchers fuzzy voice from my phone as I dropped it to the floor, my entire attention on the fact Ellies hand was rubbing against mine. I was silent, too shocked an hurt to say anything at all.

'its okay baby' she whisperd and splutterd, she tried to reach her hand to caress my face one last time before I saw death take over her eyes and her hand drop with a thud against the bathtub.

I yelled and screamed and cried, trying to get anyone to bring her back to me, trying to convince myself that she was messing with me, thats she was okay really and not like the sight I had unfolded infront of me.

'sweetheart is everything okay? Police and Ambulence are on their way'

I didn't respond grasping at everything I could to steady myself as my hysterics rocked my body, smearing tearss and blood, everything I could pick up was thrown, smashed glass and everything everywhere, my head felt unsteady as I smacked it off the sink and everything went dark.

to this day I still wonder if I wasn't enought to make her stay, If I wasn't enough to fill the hole in her heart, she filled mine, but why couldn't I do the same.

if only life hadn't planned out this way, she might be here in my arms, blabbering on about her space facts she loved so dearly.

if only.

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A/N: Hi guys! sorry i just dumped all that on you. I sobbed while making this but at the same time it was so relaxing.

tags: @twoshadesblonder @bready101

#ellie the last of us #ellie williams audio #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #tlou part 2 #tlou

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ceilidho · 1 year ago

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(long time follower, first time brave enough to send an ask on anon bc I’m drunk so here we goooo)

I just wanted to throw this idea your way bc it gave me instant brainworms as soon as I read your original “reader is a prize for soap being a good gov asset” post and just saw that you wrote more!!!

I just got the image of soap showing back up to base/evac w reader in tow. Like, he’s all wide eyed, tripped out on adrenaline and covered in blood. He got a steel grip on reader who is SO TERRIFIED, holding onto soap bc he’s the only thing that’s gotten her back to safety, also covered in gore but shaking and not sure if she’s imagining still being alive. All his handlers are trying to get him to let go of her (ie find out WHERE IN THE HECK he abducted her from) and he’s like 🙂no, she’s mine. I found her she’s mine🙂

(Don’t feel like you have to respond to this if you don’t like it. I just love your style and the way you handle dark plot lines. Keep it up! I’m a massive fan!)

ooohhh the VISUAL of this. i got shivers thinking about this. i love a scary man covered in blood after doing something evil and damning to protect his girl :((

uughhh this is so good that im TORN. military asset soap was supposed to be given you as a reward, but the idea of him seeing you while out in the field and taking you for his own? the one thing that he decided was his after living years under the thumb of this organization that dictates his every move? maybe the first time that their bloated sense of entitlement to soap's life is suddenly shaken because he doesn't just acquiesce and hand you over? him tightening his hands around your body when a handler comes to take you from him and smiling wide enough to show the gore still trapped between his teeth because he tore someone's throat out to get you? ahahah.....oh no..........

#ceil writing #cod x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap x reader #soap x you #soap/reader

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prettypumpum · 2 months ago

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Title: Crossed Dimensions | Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: You were living an ordinary life until the day a portal throws you into the Marvel universe. Trapped between an unbearable Deadpool and a Wolverine as troubling as he is charming, you discover powers you didn’t know you had and an unknown past with certain heroes. As your anxiety grows in the face of this new reality, will you be able to find your place and perhaps become the hero they need?

Warnings: strong language, references to anxiety and panic attacks, mentions of violence.

Word count: ~2.7k

Masterlist

chapter 1

“You know, I’ve always wanted kids,” Wade whispered in my ear, making me jump and pulling my attention away from Logan and Laura, who were deep in conversation on the other side of the room. “I’m so disappointed; I thought you’d teleport this time.”

“Mutants don’t exist in my dimension, Wade. So let me forget that I can do that, or I’m going to have a panic attack,” I replied, my eyes still locked on the scene in front of me.

“Do you think the government would use my sperm to impregnate one of my old sexy acquaintances, aiming to create a deadly weapon?” Wade asked, mouth full, making obscene gestures to illustrate his point.

All I could do was grimace in disgust. I hadn’t known Wade long, but I had to admit the movies had really toned him down. He was unbearable, vulgar, and absolutely everything was a joke to him. Which, admittedly, was pretty funny—as long as you weren’t the target of his humor.

“No, forget it. I prefer the good old-fashioned way, balls to lady parts. I can’t do it with scientists staring at me; it throws me off,” continued the mercenary, muttering the last sentence. “Plus, honestly, you missed the fun part where we cuddle, and Logan growls in your ear.”

This whole situation was insane. Just this morning, I had been leaving my coffee shop, pumpkin spice latte in hand, when some weird guys surrounded me, threw me into a portal, and explained that Marvel actually existed and that, on top of it, I had a past with Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman. Well, not them, but their variants, Deadpool and Wolverine.

“I think I need a drink,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut as tightly as I could, praying to wake up from what felt increasingly like a nightmare.

"Logan drank everything, but I think he left that nail polish remover Al uses if you want it," Wade replied, grabbing Dogpool.

“I’m going to get some fresh air, then.” Without giving him a chance to say anything else, I grabbed my coat—which had been new before being thrown into the TVA trash—and headed out, slamming the door behind me. I had no idea where to go; I didn’t have money or friends in this universe. Or any other, for that matter.

When I finally stopped, the adrenaline began to wear off, and the reality of my situation was making me seriously anxious. My meditation app advised me to close my eyes, focus on my breathing, and visualize my intrusive thoughts like cars passing on a road. But I mostly felt like those cars had run me over.

No matter how hard I tried to calm down, my heart beat faster, and I felt like the walls were closing in. When I felt a hand on my shoulder, I couldn’t help but scream, jumping in shock, which didn’t just make me leap—it teleported me to the end of the hallway.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Laura apologized. “You left kind of abruptly, and I was hoping we could talk.”

I didn’t really know what to say. The situation was completely crazy. She was the daughter of my variant… well, no, officially, she was the product of Logan’s genetic material.

“I just needed some quiet, you know how Wade is,” I said, laughing nervously and sitting down on the building’s staircase. Laura nodded in understanding and sat beside me in silence.

“You know, he once told me I have his powers but that I look more like my mother,” Laura said, breaking the awkward silence that had started to settle. “My Logan, I mean.”

Her Logan and his Lydia had been true heroes, both killed trying to protect her. Wade had explained that his Lydia had tried to escape with the children from the facility where they were held when Laura was still a baby but had died before she could make it through the gates.

“I was told she was a good woman,” I said, not really knowing what else to add.

“I got to meet Logan, but I don’t remember her. Charles showed me pictures and told me a lot about her.”

“I don’t want to shatter your dream, sweetheart, but I’m not her. Your mom was a hero. Me, I’m just a miserable girl with depression who doesn’t know what to do with her life,” I said, fidgeting with my coat sleeves.

“You helped save this world. If that’s not being a hero, I don’t know what is,” the young girl said softly, a smile playing on her lips. “I know that Logan and you aren’t them, but… you’re the closest thing I have. So I was thinking maybe we could go get coffee or grab a bite together someday.”

If her Lydia was anything like me, her Logan might have been right. When I saw the poor girl, playing nervously with her hands, lacking confidence, I couldn’t help but think that maybe we shared some personality traits—unfortunately, not the best ones.

“You’re probably the first teenager who actually wants to hang out with their parents,” I said, laughing wholeheartedly this time, which made her smile. “If you need someone to talk to or if you’re bored, don’t hesitate—I’ll be here for you.”

“Logan said the same thing. You’re just like my real parents,” she said, standing up. “You’re a bit lost, but you’re there when it counts.”

“Do you have somewhere to go?” I asked, a bit concerned and trying to change the subject.

“Colossus should be here soon. He’s picking me up to take me to the institute,” she replied, helping me to my feet. “I’m really glad I met you, Lydia,” she said. Before I could respond, she hugged me—a hug that, if I hadn’t had a healing factor, probably would have left me with a few bruises.

“You’re young and a mutant, so of course you’re going there,” I said, feeling a bit embarrassed when she let go. “Wait, I’ll stay with you until he gets here.”

“No, it’s okay; you can head back up.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, worried about leaving her alone on the street at this hour.

“Yes. Don’t worry, I can handle myself. I’m a big girl,” she said, extending the two metal claws from her knuckles before leaving the building, leaving me alone in the dimly lit hallway.

I still waited a few minutes until I heard a car and Colossus’s familiar voice, then I went back up to the apartment.

Wade and Al were nowhere to be found when I returned. Logan and I shared the living room; he was just coming out of the bathroom, pulling on a white T-shirt as I came in. And, as always, it took all the willpower I had to keep breathing. I averted my gaze, blushing, and rushed to the bathroom. I really needed to splash some cold water on my face.

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cremedensada · 23 days ago

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Mysterious muse yan for a frustrated artist reader. She came to you in a dream, right when you were in the height of your art block — near to tears and vowing to never look at another paper/hold your drawing tablet ever again.

Mysterious muse yan who looked so ethereal — hair as black as the midnight sky, eyes as sharp and golden as a curious feline, and lips so kissable and always quirked up like a ghost of a smile is permanently affixed on her face. You wake up after that with the biggest adrenaline rush, hands shaking as you began sketching the face appearing in your dreams.

Mysterious muse yan who always appears in your dreams lately. You almost expect her to. And in any way you want her to appear in.

Perhaps in a park, picnic spread out with the finest weather ever? There she is, smiling sweetly and offering a piece of cake for you. Dreading for an exam and wanting to ace it? She's tutoring you at the library, eyes twinkling with mirth as you get the answer correctly — perhaps a kiss as a reward would suffice.

Or, if it's a nonsensical dream (as always), she carves a space in it for her to appear in. A meeting with the family that ends with a roadtrip to a different galaxy? She's on the passenger seat, giving directions. Performing a song in front of a live audience as part of a project? She's your number one fan, obviously.

You fill a sketchbook (and a few pages in your other notebooks) of sketches of her — mostly of her face, always smiling so coyly, like she knows something you don't. It's like you were obsessed — though really, when you gain inspiration, that's kind of how it goes, no?

Alas, like any other source of inspiration, there comes a point where you drain it of all serotonin from making art of it. So naturally, you take a break... find something else to hold your inspiration, or just.... another art block, whatever.

Mysterious muse yan who... begins appearing in the corner of your eye. Glimpses of her — black hair, gold eyes and cherry red lips. Staring at you. You turn to check and see there's nothing there. It's bizarre.

Mysterious muse yan who slowly inches closer to you day by day. Slowly inching until she's at the center of your periphery. Like she exists. Like she's been there the entire time. Like she's part of the picture as she used to in your dreams.

You never mention it to anyone — fearing that they may think you're going crazy, hallucinating a character that they've seen you draw in paper. So you kept mum. Pretending that she isn't there. Even as she acts and talks — joins in on the conversation you have with your friends and family, with you being the only recipient of hearing her voice and her opinions. She cares not if they don't respond or talk over her, as if she knew herself they didn't know she existed.

Mysterious muse yan who looks at you — emotionless and cold, borderline insulted when you so much as turn away from her. Keep your eyes on her.

Don't look away. Is she not your muse? Is she not your inspiration? How dare you look away as if you did not sketch her likeness into reality dozens of times before. As if you did not create her, subconsciously longing enough to manifest her into being and now you're entertaining others and not her?

You are only comforted by the fact she exists only as a visual hallucination. Perhaps medicine will help... or a reminder that she's not real.

Mysterious muse yan and her sketched smiling face taped on your friend's face. You were looking away from her in favor of listening to said friend's ramblings.

A part of you feared lifting the sketched paper, refusing to know what lies on your friend's face and why the muse chose to stick the paper there in the first place. Or rather, refusing to know if the friend's face is still there at all.

Mysterious muse yan who only wants you to look at her. She's your muse, after all!

#yandere oc #tw yandere #gn reader #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #gender neutral reader

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notiddygothgf · 1 year ago

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prologue

★ pairings: choso x f!reader

★ synopsis: World famous rock star Choso Kamo’s new live-in assistant is convinced that she can fix him – substance abuse issues and all. Tensions ensue, and as new feelings rise to the surface, the two find it difficult to maintain an appropriate workplace relationship (or; the one where an unstable musician struggles to keep it friendly with his assistant).

★ c.w.: none (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: don't be a stranger! leave some comments for me to read teehee

★ w.c.; 2.8k

smoke and mirrors; chapter index

THE MUSIC INDUSTRY BLEEDS YOU DRY. That’s just the truth. It takes every ounce of your creative passion and tramples on it. It takes everything from you, and then it takes more. I find myself reconsidering my career path on a daily basis. There’s only one thing, in fact, that keeps me grounded.

“Choso! Choso! Choso! Choso!”

That. The chant of the crowd. The endless bodies waving their hands over the venue, reaching for me, singing for me.

I leaned my head back, feeling the cool breeze of the backstage air against my neck, against my trembling skin. Crewmembers swarmed around me like gnats, tweaking little details of my outfit – one had a black eyeshadow palette up to my eyelid and another was messing with my hair. She had said something about needing to look intentionally messy.

The low hum of their conversation was only background noise to me. I blew a bubble with the wad of gum in my mouth – a nervous tic that clearly betrayed the calm exterior I was trying so hard to maintain.

The girl who was touching my eyeliner up snapped the palette shut. My mind was elsewhere – it was out there.

“Choso! Choso! Choso!”

I took a deep breath to steady my racing heart. The chant of my name reverberated through the walls, a frightening reminder of what lay just beyond the curtain.

People. Thousands of them.

“Choso! Choso! Choso!” The chorus of voices seemed to grow louder. I shut my eyes, visualizing the sea of faces, the outstretched hands, the passion in their voices. The crowd– my fans; they were my lifeline.

Another crew member informed me, “You’re on.”

I nodded solemnly, feeling that strange pit in my stomach. It was terrifying, it was familiar, it was… exciting.

I took another breath, then I stepped forward. With each step towards the stage, the chanting intensified. The noise was like this strange, palpable force, urging me onward. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins the moment I reached the edge of the stage. The anticipation was almost… suffocating.

I stepped out. Then, for a blissful moment, it all seemed to go quiet.

I took a moment to look at them, really look at them. All of them. The mass of humanity blurred into one collective wave of joy. From here, I couldn’t even make out faces. Only smiles, flashing lights, and limbs flailing. Signs with my name on it. People with love in their hearts.

Nothing but them and me, hearts beating in tandem. I wondered how nervous they felt – if they knew how nervous I felt standing here before them. If they knew I had been nervously chewing on a piece of gum only moments prior.

Thousands of people who all came together for one purpose – to see me. A mosaic of adoration.

I glanced down at my trembling hands, fingers clutching the edge of my guitar. The weight of the crowd’s expectations pressed down on me. The realization hit me a second time – they were all here for me. That both terrified and humbled me.

I licked my lips, gave my old guitar a strum, feeling those familiar vibrations amplified a hundred fold. It was loud, so loud that I could still hear it reverberating throughout the venue when I reached for the microphone.

I stole another glance at the crowd as a smile broke across my face.

Deep breaths.

I shouted, “What the fuck is up, Paris?”

The response was deafening. The crowd erupted in cheers. I could feel their energy merging with mine – the lights, the love, the screams. In that moment, I remembered why I endured the trials of my industry. I remembered why I was still living – what I was fighting for. It was all for them, the countless faces who found solace and inspiration in my music.

And with that realization, I felt my heart begin to race.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” I asked.

They screamed back at me in response. I grinned.

“God, I love you guys,” I laughed. Strummed my guitar a second time. Looked at them. “I got a special show for you tonight!”

It was all for them. I do it all for them.

Life on the road was pretty crazy. I wish I could say that I had family to miss back home, but that wasn’t the case. I had been in and out of foster care for most of my life; had to grow up pretty fast so my brothers and I could stay off the streets. Other than the three of them, I never really had a family.

I turned to music as a crutch. I bought my first guitar with the first paycheck I earned – I was 16. I bandhopped for a while, alternating between the roles of lead singer, bassist, and rhythm guitarist. I found a passion for writing lyrics somewhere along the way. It felt nice, being able to put pen to paper and make my fucked up life sound appealing.

It was great.

I did basement shows right up until I turned 21. I would have been more than happy to keep on doing them – hell, sometimes I found myself wishing I could still fit those small, shitty little venues – but some big, music industry talent hotshot came and found me at one of my shows. He handed me a card. Told me he liked my sound, that I could be famous.

Who could have refused?

I never anticipated hitting it this big. Not that I’m complaining. It keeps a roof over me and my brother’s head – to say the least. I have more than enough money to live lavishly for the rest of my days. I found my new family in my music team: my manager, my coordinators, my publicist. All of them.

The music industry is notoriously blood-sucking. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows. I realized that rather quickly, though by the time I was hot enough to hire a whole team, I was in too deep. It all seemed so… superficial.

I grew to hate it.

My hatred only grew when I lost two of my beloved brothers – Eso and Kechizu. There was a shootout at the mall. They found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. I remember rushing to the hospital as soon as I heard the news.

It was too late by that point, though. They had bled out long before I was able to see them.

I didn’t sleep for a week after that – I developed insomnia that would last for years to come. I spent my evenings curled up on my shower floor, sobbing into my own arms. It was the same after that, and then the day after that. I found myself spending all of my time replaying the memories in my head, thinking about where I went wrong.

It didn’t take long for me to find comfort in the lifestyle of the rich and famous – the drinking, the partying, the drugs. I would go on week-long benders, drinking myself into a sickened stupor, rolling up two joints a day, popping pills I didn’t know how to pronounce. Doping myself up so I couldn’t think about it.

Ecstasy, Molly, Coke, LSD, Acid – I’ve taken them all. Shit, you could probably find trace amounts of them in my blood at any given point in time.

Or… however the hell that shit works.

I took Adderall every day to keep me grounded. That’s what I told myself, at least. No doctor in his right mind would ever prescribe someone like me 80 milligrams on a daily basis. Good thing I paid mine enough to forget his hippocratic oath.

I wasn’t completely lost, though. I didn’t feel good about it. Yuuji, my only living brother, told me multiple times that I needed to cut down on my consumption. He wanted me to go to rehab. Shit, over my dead body.

He stopped bringing it up, but I could see it in his eyes – I was breaking his heart. I had to remind myself that he had lost his brothers, too, that day. Probably felt like he was losing the only one he had left.

I try not to dwell too hard on it, though. Got better shit to do.

Fucking hate the music industry most days. Everyone expects you to be all put-together, even though you wake up feeling like you dragged your feet through a field of broken glass shards. Even though you wake up every goddamn morning feeling you’re reliving the same day over and over again.

It’s like a painful reminder that the only people I have in my life are paid employees. I have no one – other than Yuuji – who I could confidently say would be there for me if I no longer had the funds to compensate them.

It fucking blows. I drink to forget about it. Drink and… well, everything else I put in my body.

Never put a needle in there, though… at least not for drugs. I’ve got more tattoos and piercings than I can count.

Enough about my unhealthy coping mechanisms, though.

My “family” never let me put out music I like making. They stripped my creativity from me. I lost all enjoyment in songwriting along the way. They turned me into a husk – a shell of the man I used to be.

I couldn’t recall the last time I felt real happiness. You know, the kind you got from taking a walk in nature and not from snorting and ingesting copious amounts of illicit substances. You would think that someone would see me greened out on the couch and know I was crying for help.

Nah. No one ever listens.

They never noticed. The only reason they cared about whether I was dead or alive was because I kept them well-fed and their pockets full.

That’s the fuckin’ music industry, baby. Nothing but a bunch of soulless, drugged-up puppets pumping out music they hate making. Begging for help.

But no one ever listens.

My head hung low as I snorted a line of powder off the tray my housemaid – or some other woman I didn’t know – had brought me. As quickly as she had appeared, she vanished. In her absence, I relished in the rush that hit me all too fast.

I sniffed and coughed, shaking my head with remnants of the powder clinging to my nose. I blinked slowly, trying to make sense of my surroundings.

The studio’s walls were adorned with gold, platinum and silver records, a shark contrast to the disheveled state of the room. Empty liquor bottles littered the floor. The air hummed with companionable conversation and the distant echoes of a repetitive beat.

As I raised my head, the scene unfolded before me. Half-naked women, draped in a hazy glow from neon lights, raised their glasses in a toast. The shots went down smoothly, accompanied by the thumping bass of my latest creation, reverberating through the studio's speakers.

The instrumental was infectious, quick and catchy, resonating with a bass that seemed to throb in sync with the erratic pulse of the room. My eyes fell to the scattered papers on the coffee table in front of me – lyrics scribbled in messy script on lined paper that had been torn straight out of my composition notebook.

Cigarette smoke, a whiskey glass,

Fading memories, like shattered glass,

Every sunrise feels like the last,

Trapped in the echos of the past.

Stuck in the rhythm of a broken clock,

Every tick’s an echo, every tock’s a shock.

A carouse of monotony,

Lost in a loop, just try’na break free.

Guitar wails like a distant scream,

Reality blurs, just like a dream.

Drift through the hours, like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.

Pouting, I wiped my nose, feeling the dull burn of the coke as it tingled in the back of my throat. I was congested as all hell. Still, I tried to sing the bridge beneath my breath.

“Drift through the hours, like a ghost. In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost…” I hummed, pouting again when I realized I still didn’t like it.

The women in the back of the room continued their celebration, completely oblivious to my internal struggle. They were too busy shooting the shit with my friends.

More glasses were poured, and one was handed over to me. I took a sip without looking – because it honestly didn’t matter what was in the cup, could’ve been piss for all I knew. The familiar burn of bourbon warmed me momentarily. Humming in recognition, I traced my finger over the rim of the glass, lost momentarily in the verbiage of my own creation.

Something felt off.

Furrowing my brows, I stared down at the words on the page. I sniffled again. Then I downed about half of my glass of bourbon, standing up on unsteady feet. The room swayed slightly, especially when I walked over to the corner where the producer was set up – a lone figure surrounded by the chaos.

I nodded at him, muttering, “Play it again from the chorus. I’m try’na see somethin’.”

The producer – Chris, or some shit like that – nodded back. He pressed a button, and the beat started over. The room’s ambiance, fueled by laughter and friendly chatter, didn’t quiet down.

I tried my best to immerse myself in the rhythm, but the distractions were just… it was just too much.

‘Guitar wails like a distant scream,

Reality blurs, just like a dream.

Drift through the hours, like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.’

I hadn’t realized I had forgotten to actually sing the words until my producer looked over at me expectantly. I shook my head, huffing out an exasperated sigh.

“Shit, sorry, take it from… take it from the chorus again, please?” My voice cut through the noise – or tried to, at least.

The beat started over again, a few measures behind where I needed to be.

“Guitar wails like a distant scream…” I attempted once more. “Drift through the hours, like a lost– fuck, I fucked it up.”

The collective revelry around me was a wall – it fucked me up. I could feel a headache coming on.

“Can we pipe down a bit?” I groaned, massaging my temples. My ears began to ring a bit, growing louder with every passing second that the chatter continued. “Guys, shut the hell up.”

My pleas fell on deaf ears. The ringing persisted, drowning out everything else in the room.

“Yuki,” I directed at her, a little louder now. She seemed to have been leading the conversation. “Yuki, please.”

No one ever listens.

And they didn’t. They weren’t fucking listening. I tried to make eye contact with her, but I couldn’t seem to make out her face from the rest. The room was blurry, moving side to side, hazy around the edges. I held my forehead, groaning quietly.

They were so fucking loud.

No one ever listens.

Downing the rest of my bourbon in one go, I – in a fit of frustration – hurled the glass against the wall above the couch where my friends were comfortably seated. It shattered, sending shockwaves through the room as stunned silence replaced the previous chaos.

“Yuki,” I mumbled, swaying slightly on my feet. “Shut the fuck up. I’m trying to.. Try’na fuckin’...”

“Choso,” She began quietly, her mouth slightly agape. Had she always had a twin sister, or was I dreaming? “Your… your nose– are you okay?”

I put a hand up to my nose, feeling around for anything out of the ordinary. My fingers were red when I brought them back, painted with a viscous crimson fluid. Another fell from my nostril onto the pale skin of my wrist.

My nose is bleeding.

I wiped my nose, waving them off. “I’m fine,” I slurred – I wasn’t, least I don’t think I was, but the show must go on, or some shit like that. “Can we just… keep going, please?”

A thick, heavy silence enveloped the studio. With all of them finally keeping their mouths shut, I could hear myself think again. The ringing in my ears began to subside, and I, looking over my shoulder at Chuck– Chris, whatever the fuck– demanded, “Play that shit again.”

He swallowed nervously, clearly caught off guard by my outburst. Still, he pressed a button or two, and the song started all over again.

Drift through the hours like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.

a/n: hiiii! I hate the way this was written, but I always hate my first chaps hehe. NEXT ONE WILL BE SM BETTER I SWEAR!! this is gonna be a long, slow burn, smutty ass fanfic (loosely [very loosely] based on the show 'the idol'). and by based on ofc I mean I watched an ep and I was like damn I could make this better. Enter our beloved emo boy choso kamo. anyway!! comment your thoughts/wishes/etc!! I love an interactive community of loyal commenters and I loveee reading all of ur thoughts and lovely remarks!! keep them coming, and ill keep the chapters coming in retribution! love you bunches!

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

credits: @/2OARIN on twitter (cover art). If you know the other artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work! I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @ynjimenez , @soraya-daydreams , @nonksity , @hinata7346 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @sad-darksoul , @sasuke-slut , @yuunie135 , @bratkuna , @aydene , @mshope16 , @pretentiousteentrash , @galactict3a , @kokos-property , @moonriseoverkyoto , @lyn-soso , @arilostie , @violetmatcha , @markleeisdabestdrug , @erensdior , @hp-simp505 , @fushiguro-kyuuuuuu , @bontensbabygirl , @switch-godess , @honey-yuh , @ddotsie

wanna join the taglist? | smoke and mirrors; chapter index

#smoke and mirrors ☄. *. ⋆#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#choso kamo #choso #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x jjk #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso fluff #choso angst #choso smut #choso kamo fluff #choso kamo smut

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grandpeachpersona · 22 days ago

Text

It's A Man's World

Chapter 8 ☆Sorry not Sorry☆

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.8k (Sorry for any grammar errors)

A:N: Not my best chapter, just a filler if I'm being honest 🤷🏿‍♀️ photo and gifs, thanks to Pinterest.

To words

Jet. Laged.

We faced the Nationals in the NDLS, and of course, we won 4-0. Now, we're back home in the ATL, preparing for the NLCS (National League Championship Series), where our opponents are the Los Angeles Dodgers.

Interestingly enough, they had their press conference today and said some very interesting things about me, which I couldn't care less about. You have the nerve to say and quote, “I mean, she's good, but I don’t think she’s good enough to beat us.”

As I sit down for my press conference, I usually would keep some comments to myself, but as of right now, all gloves are off. “How was practice Sierra?”

“Good, a little chilly, but it was fine,” I respond with a shrug.

And the question that everyone wanted to ask got fired off next: “Any response to the comments that were made earlier today by the Dodgers.’

I pull a slight smirk on my face and nod my head. “I was good enough to win Rookie of the Year. I was good enough to win MVP. And I was good enough to win a Gold Glove. I think I'll be great enough to beat the Dodgers,” I answer confidently.

The room noticed the slight change in demeanor because the questions afterward were very short and to the point. Sorry not Sorry

Game Day was here, and I was more than ready to go. I had just finished lacing my cleats when a notification popped up on my phone. Normally, I wouldn't check my phone so close to game time, but full of curiosity, I checked it anyway.

Joe Burrr 🧡

Hey, you don't have to respond. I know you're in your zone. I just wanted to say go kill it out there tonight. You made it this far, so don't let them drag you back over some petty comments, even though your clapback was funny as hell, lol. I know you got this. Good luck! And no hits to the face.

I smile at the message and chuckle at the last part. As if I needed more confidence boost, Joe just put the cherry on top with this. I didn't respond but reacted to his message with a heart.

He's right. I busted my ass for his moment, and ill be damned if, like he said, some petty comments stop me. With my heart racing and excitement bubbling, I stepped out of the locker room, ready to face what lay ahead. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the cheers of fans and the buzz of anticipation. It was time to prove myself once again.

Game 1..Los Angeles

Game 2…Atlanta

Game 3…Atlanta

Game 4… Los Angeles

Game 5…Atlanta

Game 6…Los Angles

Here we are: Game 7—the climactic finale of this intense series. The stakes couldn't be higher; this game could either catapult us to the heights of glory or send us back to our living rooms, resigned to watching the World Series unfold from our couches, devoid of the thrill of competition.

The atmosphere felt electric, but we were up against the reality of not having home-field advantage. Every cheer from the opposing fans echoed in our ears, amplifying the pressure. As the scoreboard ominously displayed a 4-6 lead for our opponents in the bottom of the 7th inning, a collective sense of urgency enveloped our dugout.

It was my turn at bat. With each heartbeat resonating in my ears, I steadied myself in the batter's box, digging my cleats into the ground. I took a deep breath, visualizing my success, and when the pitcher threw the ball, I swung hard and made contact. The satisfying "crack" of the bat resonated through the stadium as I connected cleanly, sending the ball slicing into the outfield.

The crowd erupted, their cheers mingling with my own racing thoughts. I bolted down the first baseline, my legs pumping with adrenaline as I focused on reaching the safety of first base. A base hit! I knew it was enough to bring in a run, narrowing the gap and making us just a single run short of tying it up.

Now attention shifted to Ronny Mauricio, the rookie out of the Dominican Republic—a whirlwind of talent and potential. Watching him in action was like witnessing poetry in motion; he had an innate ability to read the game that belied his experience. I remained on first, breathless with anticipation as he took his stance in the batter's box. My teammate stood at third, equally poised for the moment.

The pitcher, sensing the mounting tension, cast a wary glance in my direction, gauging whether I might attempt to steal second. He then turned his focus back to Ronny, delivering the pitch with a swift motion. Ronny, with a keen eye, timed his swing perfectly, launching the ball deep into the outfield.

With my heart pounding, I took off, pushing myself to accelerate as I rounded second base. It felt like the world had faded away, leaving only the sound of my breath and the pounding of my heart. As I glanced toward the dugout, my third-base coach was a blur of determination, animatedly waving me on to keep running. His enthusiastic gestures spurred me further as I hurtled towards third base.

Rounding the base, I quickly turned my gaze back to the outfield. I could see the ball gliding through the air as the outfielders scrambled to retrieve it, their movements frantic as they prepared for the throw home. The anticipation twisted in my stomach, a mix of hope and fear. I was in the home stretch now.

Closing in on home plate, I went all out, knowing this was it. With a burst of energy, I dove forward, my body stretching toward the plate, conscious of every moment passing. I aimed to reach the base before the ball could get there, my fingertips longing to brush against the plate. As I hit the dirt, I felt the weight of the game pressing down, and with one final effort, I reached out, praying that my hand would touch the plate just as I made my desperate slide.

“SAFE!” The umpire shouted as I stood up. I clapped my hands as I walked back to the dugout, receiving pats on my back and on top of my helmet. New ballgame, gentlemen—6 to 6.

It all came down to this—bottom of the 9th, the scoreboard reading 7-6. We were just three outs away from securing our place in the World Series. As I stepped onto the field at shortstop, the tension in the air was palpable. The roar of the crowd surged around me as fans leaped to their feet, rallying behind our closing pitcher, Ryan Gonzalez.

The first out came swiftly—a high fly ball that one of our outfielders snagged with ease. The crowd cheered, but the tension only thickened.

The second out was even faster—a powerful strikeout that sent a wave of excitement through our dugout. But our hopes for a quick victory were tempered as the next batter approached the plate.

Shohei Ohtani.

Even in this high-stakes moment, the name alone sent a shiver down my spine. He’s already cemented his place in baseball history as a legend, and the energy shifted palpably as he walked up, bat in hand. The stadium, once a cacophony of cheers, fell eerily silent, all eyes fixed on Ryan as he prepared to pitch.

The first pitch whistled through the air, and Shohei connected—but it wasn’t to be. The ball sailed foul, slicing through the tension with a loud crack.

0-1.

Ryan took a moment, steadied himself, and fired the second pitch—a slow ball that floated just outside the strike zone.

1-1.

The crowd watched with bated breath as the third pitch split the plate, a crisp strike that drew another round of cheers from our supporters.

1-2.

With just one out remaining, the atmosphere was electric. Ryan took a deep breath, and for a split second, time seemed to stand still as he wound up for the final pitch.

Shohei swung with all his might but came up empty. The moment the ball hit Ryan’s glove, a thunderous eruption of cheers engulfed the stadium, drowning out everything else. My heart raced as my teammates and I rushed the mound, a tidal wave of joy crashing over us. We shouted, leaped, and embraced one another in pure elation.

We had done it—we just won the National League Championship Series and earned our ticket to the World Series. I couldn't help but feel like the universe was smiling down on me. I truly felt like I was God's Child, blessed and ready for whatever came next.

As I stepped into the familiar warmth of my house, a relieved sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back against the heavy wooden door. The vibrant energy of my teammates still echoed in my mind, a reminder of the spirited celebration I struggled to keep up with. Despite my love for the camaraderie, I knew I was no match for their boundless enthusiasm, especially when it came to reveling in our recent victory.

Pushing myself off the door, I made my way toward my bedroom, the soft carpet cushioning my feet as I began to remove my jewelry, each piece a cherished memory of the night. The sudden buzz of my phone caught my attention, drawing me to my bed where it lay, face up, a bright light illuminating the dark room.

I picked it up and glanced at the screen, a smile spreading across my face as I recognized the sender.

Joe Burrr 🧡

"Hey, just landed in Dallas. Just wanted to say congrats and I'm proud of you, Ri."

A warm sensation spread through me, making my cheeks flush as I began to type my response. I could sense the exhaustion in his words, the faint hint of fatigue woven into the text.

"Thank you, baby, ❤️. Good luck on Monday."

My heart dropped into my stomach the moment I hit send. Oh no. Please tell me I didn’t just send that.

Joe Burrr 🧡

"Baby? That’s a new one…"

If I could’ve smacked myself right then and there, I would’ve done it without hesitation. What on earth possessed me to text him something so intimate?

Well, perhaps the remnants of the night’s festivities and the alcohol swirling in my system had something to do with it, but that was beside the point.

"Yeah…umm…"

Joe Burrr 🧡

"Lol It's okay Ri. Get some sleep. I'll call you before practice tomorrow."

Part of me wished he wouldn’t follow through on that, yet another part of me buzzed with excitement. It felt so wrong, yet undeniably thrilling, and I couldn’t shake the sensation that this small slip could change everything.

Chapter 9 ☆Butterflies☆

@hoodharlow @enretrogue

#joe burrow x reader #joe burrow #black oc #black!reader #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow x black reader #Spotify

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yupstep · 1 year ago

Text

-Legal Name: Aina Calland (No longer goes by that name)

-Call Sign: Zona (picked that name because she saw half a Arizona green tea can that only read ‘Zona’ and thought it was cool)

-Age: 26 8/18/1997

-Nationality: Norwegian

(She speaks Bokmål dialect, her English is a little broken and sometimes she’ll get words mixed up. Fork and f*ck are often an issue when pronouncing)

-Height: 5’8” / 68”

-Weight: 145lbs

Body Notes: Chest tattoo is the Troll Cross which is believed to offer protection. Her back has the Valknut triangles for the loss of her father and wings to guide her.

-Family:

Mother passed when she was 5 in a drunk driving accident. Father passed when she was 17 from CVD caused by unhealthy smoking and drinking habits. She was close with her father, he took care of her and her sister well. Older sister is alive(more info on her later)

-Personality:

Zona is pretty easy going, her mind thinks before she acts during most situations. She is politely aggressive, will often be heard saying please or thank you while cussing someone out. She has dad humor as well as a little bit of dark humor when she thinks no one is listening. Zona has a mild case of Tourette’s, she mainly will whisper small noises as she works or repeat sounds that catch her attention. It’s not very noticeable unless looking for it to happen. She gets awkward around large groups of people she doesn’t know and prefers to stick around a familiar face. The poor girl is an introvert that wants to be an extrovert. She thinks in pictures so visuals are a lot better than verbal instructions or making her read.

Zona started her career to be EMS after finishing high school at the age of 17. She wanted the adrenaline rush of having to think fast to save lives while being physically active. She got a head start in high school and studied for 2 years to get her bachelor degree in Paramedic Science then began her Vocational school right after.

BACKSTORY: (In the works will probably mess with this along the way)

Zona often volunteered her time to help with disaster relief and emergency assistance with the Red Cross in Norway. After a terrorist attack in France, Zona and a few others at her work offered to assist with NATO to help with humanitarian needs in France. It was volunteer based and had an unknown time line. While she was there another attack took place, Zona along with other volunteers and civilians were taken hostage by the terrorists group. She was transported to an unknown location(we still figuring that out) where most hostages were killed or used for ransom. They used Zona as a POW and forced her to tend to their wounded due to her medical background. She was captive for 5 months before Chimera infiltrated the hidden base.

MORE ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED NEXT WILL COME : D I gotta draw more art cuz the plot thickens. I also suck at writing so please forgive me if things don’t make sense…

#artwork #call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #digital art #fanart #cod oc art #cod oc #oc #oc art #my art #my ocs #reference #backstory

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planetkiimchi · 1 year ago

Text

and they were roommates | l.dh

featuring: lee haechan x masc!reader, nct dream

warnings: a little (?) bit of gore, blood, and a “crunching sound” which in my head was bone breaking. swearing but not a lot, alcohol is mentioned, ynhyuck get really drunk at some point, the first line is a bit painful to read but that’s just what cold weather feels like, yn has major regrets quite a lot. y/n is oblivious but in their defense, donghyuck is really fucking flirty and the mixed signals are confusing to everyone. y/n doesn’t like coffee (deal with it) and eats pizza in the absolute weirdest way possible.

word count: 13882 words

playlist: nonsense by sabrina carpenter // photograph by ed sheeran // fallin' (adrenaline) by why don't we // sweet nothing by taylor swift // coffee shop by flowerovlove // really wanna dance with you by new rules

summary — lee donghyuck is the most flirtatious person you’ve ever known and he makes you feel welcome in the foreign country. it makes sense that you gravitate towards him, but what do you do when you realise you’re falling for him with every act of his?

a/n: this has been rotting in my drafts since march, and it really only made it out because of @winterchimez thank you so, so much to ally for reading this longass incoherent fic and allowing me to share this piece of my heart with you guys

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

THE BITING WIND BLEW HARSHLY at your cheeks, turning them redder than they already were. It felt as if there were a million shards of ice slowly chipping away at your skin, your skin cells freezing off your face.

What a warm welcome to Seoul, you thought sardonically.

You had enrolled in Seoul Institute of the Arts for one reason alone, and that was that the only cousin who was your age, Na Jaemin, had applied to go there last year. Having made an unexpected decision not to go into Neurosciences like the rest of his friends, Jaemin found himself blissfully alone and afraid to apply. He wasn’t planning on going alone, yet he desperately wanted to get in, so he had decided to turn to you for assistance.

That was the first time you had heard him admit that you were his favourite cousin (you probably weren’t). You had been on the other end of the spectrum at the time, completely unsure what direction you wanted your life to continue in. You had had no idea what to pursue, and had hence decided to make an impulsive decision to apply to Seoul Institute of the Arts with Jaemin.

To be very honest, you hadn’t expected to get in. It was a spur of the moment decision, and SIA was an extremely prestigious university. Your background in visual arts was minimal, so you were mostly relying on your extensive dance history to carry you through it.

Unfortunately for you, it worked. This was how you had ended up on the plane to Seoul a year later, your regret almost as bitter as the cold when you thought about how lonely you would be.

Your grasp of the Korean language was minimal, and you hated how the phonetic sounds differed just slightly, enough for you to get it wrong but not for you to understand why.

It was alright when you lived in the United Kingdom, because there you only had to say a few words in Korean to impress your non-Korean relatives. Privately, your mother had taken you out of the Korean international school when she saw that your Korean hadn’t improved in the slightest.

In Korea, you would be disadvantaged both by the language barrier and your lack of passion for your major. Besides, if the weather continued to be as cold as it was at the moment, you might as well have stayed in England. At least there, you could romantically share an umbrella with someone in the dreary rain. What could you do in Korea, huddle with someone as you ran from building to building while a flurry of white snow fell from the sky? How pathetic.

You were absorbed in your thoughts, feet carrying you mindlessly through the steps towards the arrival area. You struggled and stuttered your way through immigration with broken sentences, finally making your way to the taxi stand.

You were mentally preparing yourself to exit the warmth of the airport and face the freezing temperatures when you heard your name, face turning towards the direction of the familiar voice.

Jaemin ran up to you, the soft smile gracing his face as close to a wide grin as you could get from him. He threw his hands around you, hugging you tightly, and you collapsed into his warmth, so relieved that he was there. Maybe Seoul wouldn’t be so bad after all.

When he let go of you, composing himself, you took the time to scan the new faces. Jaemin hadn’t come alone; he had come with three other friends, who were all looking at you expectantly with welcoming gazes.

“I’m L/n Y/n,” you told them politely. “Jaemin’s my cousin, and my mother and his father are siblings.” With that, you ran out of things to say, and you stared at the group with an awkward smile as the silence turned thick with hesitation.

The silence was then broken by a rather cheerful individual amongst Jaemin’s friends, who said, “Shall we go? It’s late, and I’m sure you’re tired from the long flight. We’ll take a taxi back to the dormitory and show you your room. You and Jaemin are staying together, right?”

You nodded gratefully as the young man took the lead, and the rest of you followed suit. Jaemin reached out to help you with your luggage, but you shook your head. There was no need since you hadn’t brought much to Korea. You intended to buy anything you needed there since you assumed the clothes you needed would be quite different from those you owned.

You quickly came to realise that the young man who had just spoken was the only extrovert in the group. You and Jaemin were introverts and perfectly content to sit in silence. The others didn’t seem to make any attempt to strike up a conversation, letting the silence settle comfortably over you. However, despite being in the passenger seat and therefore the furthest from the rest, the young man simply wouldn’t stop talking.

He introduced himself as Lee Donghyuck who had graduated from the same high school as Jaemin. He and Jaemin had only met a month ago when they first moved into the dorm. You had had to make arrangements for your flight when you received the acceptance letter, so you were among the later few to arrive.

Although Donghyuck and Jaemin were essentially strangers, it wouldn’t have seemed so to a passerby. Donghyuck ensured that there was never a dull or awkward moment and that no opportunity to flirt with his friends was missed.

You had only known Donghyuck for an hour and yet you were already starting to like him. You relaxed into the seat, closing your eyes and exhaling in relief as the sound of Donghyuck’s voice prattling away filled your ears.

He talked during the entire ride, telling you about the rooming conditions—four to a room, and you were with him, Renjun and Mark, the other two in the car—, the professors’ reputations that he had gotten from the seniors, and the other three boys who were sleeping and weren’t able to pick you up.

Usually a talk like that would have drained your energy, using up all your social battery trying to think of a reply to keep the conversation going. However, the thing about Donghyuck was that he didn’t expect you to answer. He was perfectly fine with the sound of his voice being the only thing filling the silence, which made it much more bearable.

—

You only realised that you had fallen asleep when Jaemin shook your shoulder to wake you up. In the corner of your bleary vision, you caught sight of Mark paying for the ride, and you instinctively reached for your wallet before realising it was safely tucked away in your back pocket. Which you were sitting on.

Sighing, you silently apologised to your parents for not maintaining basic etiquette and insisting on paying, clambering out of the taxi with shaky legs, feeling a little tired (not that you would admit it).

You soon realised that Donghyuck was a clingy person. While you leaned on Jaemin for support as you wheeled your luggage along, he leaned on Renjun’s shoulder, upbeat as ever despite the late timing. The high-pitched voice that he used to talk to Renjun would have been cringey if it wasn’t him doing it. Somehow, when Donghyuck was doing it, it was cute and endearing.

The room that you were assigned was on the second floor, so you had to choose between climbing the stairs and lugging the heavy luggage up or walking out of the way to find the lift.

Obviously, as the lazy person that you were, you chose the former. With a grunt and a heave, you somehow managed to get the luggage up the stairs while Donghyuck cheered you on.

“You’ve got this, Y/n! I believe in you!” When he saw that it wasn’t working, he even threw in a little “Fighting!” and you smiled despite your exhaustion. You would have laughed if the ache in your shoulders wasn’t killing you.

Fortunately, that was the hardest part. The rest was easy—you left your shoes outside the door, placed your luggage at the side so you could unpack your nightwear and take the things you needed for your shower. Donghyuck, Mark and Renjun followed you inside while Jaemin retreated to his own room.

The room was surprisingly cozy, with enough space for a bookcase, desk, and four single beds. There was a mini fridge in the corner of the room, so that was what you went to first.

The guys had placed their personal belongings neatly, so you followed suit, taking out your personal items and setting your luggage upright against the wall. While you did so, Mark and Donghyuck used the two attached restrooms to get changed while Renjun sat on the floor and watched you curiously.

“Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking? You couldn’t have studied in Korea, surely. Jaemin didn’t exactly tell us much about you,” Renjun said.

“My mother grew up in Korea, and went to England to study. She met my father there, and I grew up in England, but I do know a little Korean,” you said with difficulty. “And you? Your name doesn’t sound very Korean either.”

“I’m from China but came to Korea because my grandmother suggested it. I actually came on a scholarship and went to the same high school as Donghyuck. All of us went to the same one, actually.”

You nodded in understanding. Understandably, people gravitated towards those they knew, especially in unfamiliar environments.

“Donghyuck actually initiated this. I’m not sure if you realised, but he’s very outgoing. He somehow found out all of our phone numbers, knew of my existence through passing me in the hallways, got Jaemin’s number from a mutual friend, Jeno, and created a group chat. Even now, I still think it was a lot of effort, but it seems to have worked. And, you know, it isn’t half as awkward anymore.”

That did sound like something you would expect of Donghyuck, you thought. As Renjun finished speaking, Donghyuck and Mark came out of the restroom, and you brushed past them as you went inside to take a quick shower.

—

The shower did wonders for your exhaustion. Your muscles didn’t feel half as tense anymore, and you actually felt fresh and comfortable in warm clothes. You rubbed your hair dry as you exited the restroom, glancing at the filled beds.

Mark and Renjun were lying in bed, and they gave you a quick goodnight as you made your way over to the last empty bed, right next to Donghyuck. He was dressed in a baggy hoodie, sitting hunched over at the edge of his bed, looking intently at his phone.

If it were Jaemin, who also happened to have a terrible shrimp posture, you would have tapped his back to remind him to sit up straight, taken his phone from him while setting it down on the bedside table and told him to sleep.

As it was, he was Donghyuck, not your cousin, so you didn’t have the right to do so. Instead, you snuggled into your bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin until you were nice and warm, shutting your eyes as you said, “G’night, Donghyuck.”

You didn’t see him raise his head and turn to see you, smiling when he realised that you had spoken to him properly for the first time that day. He whispered softly, “G’night,” and put his phone away. He let out a sigh of relief as he flopped onto the bed and fell fast asleep.

YOU QUICKLY SETTLED INTO A ROUTINE at the university. It was easy to do so when each of your days had a set schedule and things for you to do. It was never monotonous, but the structure helped to keep you going and not stop.

In the mornings, you woke up to beverages on the table, which Donghyuck bought for everyone. At first, he hadn’t gotten your order right. He had memorised the others’ orders during the month that they had been roommates before you arrived, but took a couple of times to get what you wanted right.

Coffee from Donghyuck looked something like this: a cup of steaming hot coffee would somehow make its way to the table in the mornings after you came out of the shower, or finished changing your clothes. The coffee was always accompanied by a note. For Renjun, it was a compliment, and it was often about how pretty his eyes were. For Mark, it was either a “you’re so amazing, never forget it”, or a “stupid fool”. There was never an in-between.

And for you?

Well, on the first day, it was a frappuccino with plenty of sprinkles on it, the sugar content so high you were sure it made up for the lack of actual caffeine in it. That gave you a sugar rush so bad you could barely sit still in lectures, knees constantly jiggling under the table.

You knocked over your bottle twice that day and even almost dropped your laptop on the floor because your knee hit the bottom of the table, causing your laptop to slip.

After that, Donghyuck realised sugar wasn’t your thing.

The second day, he went for an espresso that probably had eight shots in it. (It was then accompanied by a pickup line, “do you have a map? cuz i got lost in your eyes”. It was cheesy, but some part of your heart found it cute.) You recognised it as Jaemin’s order, and had laughed to yourself when you realised that Donghyuck wasn’t very good at guessing what you liked.

However, you stopped laughing as soon as you tasted the drink. The espresso was pure caffeine, so black and bitter you wanted to spit out every sip you took of it. You probably would have been better able to stomach a shrimp linguini that you were allergic to than you did the espresso.

That day was pure hell. Your classes didn’t begin until the afternoon, so the day began with a dance class. You missed your bus and had the taste of the espresso in your mouth while you suffered through your dance class. The teacher was strict, which you generally didn’t mind, but that day, it felt like he was out to get you. He corrected you at every turn, and you had every mind to quit.

Afterwards, you realised that you had forgotten to do the pre-reading for your class and had to rush it as you sprinted to the building, only managing to absorb at most a quarter of what you were meant to know.

To make things worse, you had gotten lost three times trying to find the classroom and were late and completely lost for the whole class. You eventually gave up trying to comprehend what was happening, instead leaning over to the seat next to you and asking your classmate to send you his notes.

He was a little confused, but he agreed, and that was how (you thought) you made your first friend outside Jaemin’s friend group.

It later turned out that his name was Jeno, and he was the mutual friend that Renjun had told you about. So he knew both Donghyuck and Jaemin, so all your pride in talking to someone new dissipated faster than the taste of espresso in your mouth.

Since you didn’t really have many other friends besides the “dreamies”, which was what Jaemin’s friend group called themselves, you had no one but them to complain about your terrible day.

Donghyuck learnt his lesson for the next time. The third time, Donghyuck bought you jasmine green tea with boba at 25% percent sugar because he “remembered that you didn’t like the sugar rush the first time”. He had circled the sticker on the cup in red pen so you could see the exact order and had written: without milk, because i'm not sure if you’re lactose intolerant.

You were glad that he had finally caught on and realised that you didn’t like coffee much. While you weren’t the biggest fan of tea, you did enjoy boba and that ended up being the most pleasant beverage out of them all. It was partly because he had considered your possible allergies and remembered your dislike of the frappuccino. But more importantly, you liked it because Donghyuck had put so much effort into trying to find something that you would like instead of simply asking you what you liked like a normal person.

However, even that wasn’t the end of it. Donghyuck could tell from your reaction to the drink that it wasn’t something you were expecting and was dead set on finding out your favourite drink order.

It took about five more tries before he finally found out.

It happened when Mark came to pick you up after your dance class, with Jisung (one of the dreamies) in the passenger seat and Donghyuck in the back seat of the car. You had all but collapsed into the seat, limbs tiredly splayed out across the backseat of the car.

To his credit, Donghyuck hadn’t complained about you taking up space, only shifting so that you could comfortably sprawl across two seats while he sat upright in his. When you stretched and knocked his jaw, he laughed good-naturedly and lowered the middle seat so that you could prop your head up and rest comfortably.

When you woke up, the car was parked in front of a convenience store, and Mark told you that Donghyuck and Jisung had gone to get some ramyeon and other items.

Despite Mark’s protests, you zipped up your jacket and climbed out of the car, intent on getting yourself a box of Nesquik packets to get your energy up after the long day.

You intercepted Donghyuck at the glass doors, dragging him with you as you made your purchase and held it in your hand sheepishly as you followed Jisung back to the car, waving your box of Nesquik packets at Mark in explanation as you entered the car.

Mark nodded knowingly, and as he started driving off, he asked, “You’ll make me a cup too, right?”

You nodded, replying in English. “Of course. That’s what friends are for.”

“Oh, so you’ll make it for me because we’re friends, not because you want to thank me for my driving services?”

“That too,” you shrugged. Donghyuck looked between the two of you, completely lost.

“Can I have a translation, please?” As Mark translated it to Donghyuck, you took note of the words you were unsure of, taking out your phone to note it down. You were too busy trying to catch what Mark said to notice the fond look Donghyuck gave you, mentally noting to help you with Korean when he could.

After that day, Donghyuck always made you hot Nesquik in the evenings, and you grew used to coming home to a hot steamy mug of the delicious beverage.

—

Amidst the busy classes, being with Donghyuck felt like the calmness of the deep waters in the middle of a storm. His presence made the mountain of work piling up feel manageable and made all your stress and worries seem trivial. Donghyuck made everything bearable for you.

Throughout the semester, you constantly had to translate different your pre-reading to English and record your lectures to come back to Mark to ask him for help. Mark probably learnt more from your lectures than you did, but it helped enormously.

Mark was always patient, never growing tired of helping you. When he couldn’t translate something either, you always fell back on good old Google Translate or simply asked the professor yourself.

Some of the professors spoke fluent English, which was a huge help, and most were willing to help you as long as you showed initiative in taking charge of your own learning.

One afternoon, you returned to the dorm with a cinnamon roll in hand and your papers in the other, looking for Mark to help you.

Unfortunately, Mark was away, having been called to help tutor another of his friends. The only one at the dormitory was Donghyuck, who was busy tapping away at his laptop. Disappointed, you turned to leave to find your professor instead when Donghyuck turned, seemingly having a sixth sense for your presence.

“‘Sup,” He nodded at the papers in your hand. “Do you need help with those, or…?”

You nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, I was gonna ask Mark for help, but it seems like he’s not here, so I’m going to find one of my professors instead. Or probably one of the other students, I don’t know.”

Donghyuck waved you over to the desk, and you pulled out a chair and sat down. He hummed as he read through the sheaf of papers before handing them back to you.

“I can’t say I’m very good at English, but I’m sure we could figure it out together. Anyway, we both major in Fine Arts, so it can’t be that hard, right?”

—

That was how you and Donghyuck ended up at the shared desk in your room, huddled over papers as you groaned about terminology. You didn’t understand why dance needed such complicated terminology; if dance teachers could “hm ah one-two” their way through their classes, surely you didn’t need your major to get a job in the industry.

However, Donghyuck refused to let you give up, guiding you through the questions one by one. The pre-reading was especially difficult, but when Donghyuck let you read it aloud and helped you with words you didn’t understand, suddenly, it felt a lot easier.

It helped that the professor had plenty of visual resources, and pictures and videos helped to attract your attention. Whenever there was a video of a certain dance technique you needed to know about, you eagerly clicked on it, grateful for the reprieve it offered from the constant onslaught of words on your screen.

Somehow, just like that, the afternoon passed by rather quickly, with both of you efficiently clearing everything that you needed to by the time Mark returned with takeout for all of you.

Donghyuck reached out to help taking the containers out of the plastic bag, hissing sharply and almost dropping the container on the table. “It’s hot!”

“What were you expecting?” You asked incredulously.

He shrugged. “I thought it would have cooled down on the ride here or something.”

Mark stared at him. “My car’s heated.”

The realisation hit Donghyuck like a truck, and you couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of you at his shocked face. “Right, shit. I forgot about that.”

You were doubled over in laughter, and Renjun had to shake your shoulders roughly to get you to stop. When you could finally stand straight again, you looked Donghyuck in the eyes and snorted.

“You’re pretty dumb for someone who knew all the answers to my homework,” you told him.

“Well, you’re pretty annoying for someone who just got my help for his homework,” he retorted.

You couldn’t argue with that. You made a face, to which Donghyuck made a face back, and you harrumphed and sat down to enjoy your takeout.

You noisily slurped your noodles, some of the sauce splashing on your face. Before you could reach up to wipe it away, Donghyuck reached for your chin, pulled you towards him, and gently wiped your face clean with his thumb.

You froze, caught in his gaze. The two of you stared at each other, Donghyuck raising his eyebrows and smirking, before you finally shook your head free of his grasp and moved back, flustered. You were sure that your face was as red as a tomato, but Donghyuck only laughed.

He laughed like it was nothing, and the careless sound of his laughter mixed with the look on his face made you smile too. You couldn’t help it, his happiness was contagious, and sometimes you found that Donghyuck made your life a lot more bearable.

“I'M BORED.”

Donghyuck was sprawled out on the bed, glasses resting precariously on the tip of his nose (he’d forgotten to wear his night lenses the night before). Next to him, Renjun was sitting on the edge of his bed, studiously texting Chenle. Even Mark, the most disciplined of you all, wasn’t doing work.

The room smelled of dirty clothes and… Chinese takeout? You cast a glance over at the coffee table that you ate at, and realised that there were still empty takeout containers on the table. You quickly went to throw them away, scrunching your nose in disgust at the sheer amount of hoodies piled up on bags, the backs of the chairs, and generally strewn about messily.

“Yah, Donghyuck, come and clean up your mess.”

Donghyuck looked over at your annoyed face and quickly got up, obediently putting his clothes away and throwing the dirty ones into the hamper.

“I’m going to bring these to the laundromat, why don’t you call the others over and we’ll have a pizza party? I don’t think any of us is in the mood to do work now.”

Donghyuck nodded eagerly. “Let’s do it. Y/n, what pizza would you like?”

“Jaemin knows. Just get whatever the majority wants and we’ll share.”

“Sounds good,” Mark chimed in. “And, Y/n, can you bring this too?” He handed you a bag full of dirty clothes and you shifted the hamper over to one side so you could handle both, and Renjun helped you with the door as you shuffled out.

—

When you came back, Jaemin informed you that he had ordered pepperoni for you, since Jeno wanted some meat, and Donghyuck had gotten Hawaiian and four-cheese for the others. They had bought the largest size, so hopefully it would be enough for all of you.

When the pizza came, everyone dove in with renewed energy, the lethargic boys coming back to life as they scarfed down the food. Donghyuck reached out to take a slice of your pizza, withdrawing when he realised that there were olives on it.

“What, you don’t like—what’s the word?” You asked.

“Olives?” Mark supplied.

“Yeah, olives?”

“Nah,” Donghyuck replied. “‘M not a fan.” Yet his face betrayed him, and you could see the longing in his eyes as he watched you eat your pizza, looking down sadly at his own.

“Do you want to trade? You can pass me the olives from the pepperoni, and I’ll take your Hawaiian as long as you keep the pineapples.”

“You don’t like pineapples?” Donghyuck asked, scandalised.

“Of course not, who does?” You looked at Jaemin. “Come on, Jaem, back me up on this. Besides, fruit on pizza is such a strange concept.”

“Tomato’s a fruit,” Jisung pointed out, mouth full.

You frowned. “Don’t talk with your mouth open. But okay, fair point, I concede. Fruit on pizza isn’t weird, just pineapple on pizza.”

“Hey!” You threw Donghyuck a triumphant grin, handing him a slice of pizza with the olives plucked off, heaped on your plate. There was oil dripping from your hands and mouth, so you wiped your chin with the back of your hand and got up to wash your hands.

“Don’t touch my pizza,” you warned.

Renjun mock-gasped. “How scary!” When you glared at him, he quickly corrected himself, “Oh, I meant, ‘wouldn’t dream of it!’”, to which you nodded approvingly in response.

—

You returned to your seat only to find Donghyuck had started a new, heated discussion, and everyone was participating actively, except for Jeno, who looked content with stuffing his mouth and just listening.

“I think it’s fine if they separate the leaves, it’s just weird if they do it while giggling and giving each other flirtatious looks,” Chenle was saying.

“But there’s no other reason to do that than to flirt!” Donghyuck cried out.

“What’s going on?” Renjun, bless his soul, explained the perilla debate to you while Donghyuck and Chenle went at each other’s throats. It turned out that the perilla debate was very simple: if your significant other helped to separate the pesky perilla leaves for your close friend to eat, was that acceptable?

You cocked your head in confusion. That was a topic up for debate? It was simple enough to leave people alone to eat, especially if they were both people you knew and trusted. If you could bring them out to eat together, what was the reason for you to prevent interaction between them? If you were that sensitive, you might as well not have invited them to eat at the same meal.

You voiced out your thoughts, but Donghyuck wasn’t having it. “It’s just dumb. Why was your significant other paying attention to the friend? They should be paying attention to you!”

You gave him a hard look. “Seriously? It’s not like you can forbid interaction between two people you love. You just think it’s weird because you’re an outrageous flirt, and in those circumstances, you would definitely be doing it with an ulterior motive.”

Chenle and Mark nodded in unison. “Face it, Hyuck, your opinion is just wrong.”

Donghyuck pouted and turned his back to you all, furiously opening up the food app on his phone and tapping away.

Jeno leaned over his shoulder to take a peek and began laughing uncontrollably, almost choking on the food in his mouth. “He’s ordering a dish with perilla leaves on it to prove his point!”

The entire room burst out into laughter, and you were so loud you heard a knocking on the door as someone told you to “shut the hell up, it’s already 10pm and some people want peace and silence.”

Subdued, the laughter died out, but wide grins remained on your faces as you watched Donghyuck in amusement, intent on proving his point and unwilling to give up until he had showed you all.

The food arrived faster than you had expected, and Donghyuck ran to the door to receive it, laying out the bowl and showing everyone the perilla leaves.

He handed Jaemin a pair of chopsticks and pointed to the dish. “Okay, Jaemin, you’re going to pretend that you can’t pick up the perilla leaves, and then I’ll swoop in and save the day.”

Jaemin immediately shook his head, vigorously expressing his disagreement. “I’m not getting dragged into this stupid shit. Jisung, take the chopsticks.”

Jisung crossed his hands over his chest, waving away the chopsticks. “Why don’t you pass it to Y/n? He’s the one who started this whole thing, after all.”

You were shoved into the seat opposite Donghyuck, a defeated sigh leaving your lips as you took the chopsticks and tried to pick up the perilla leaves with your chopsticks. You didn’t even have to fake a failed attempt to pick it up; your chopstick skills had never been good, so no matter how you tried, you couldn’t pick it up.

Seeing your genuine struggle, Donghyuck took the chance to expertly pick up the leaves and separated one piece from the rest (show-off). “Ahh,” he said, and you opened your mouth instinctively.

“Is it good?” He asked sweetly, and you nodded dumbly. It was actually pretty good, but you didn’t know why. You had never liked perilla leaves much, but maybe the way Donghyuck was looking at you or the pressurising gaze on your back made it taste a lot better than you used to think it did.

“That’s good, Y/n-ah.” He reached over to brush your hair out of your face, but it just flopped back down in front of your eyes again. He giggled, and that was your breaking point, and you broke out of character, laughing into your palm as Donghyuck shrugged as if to say, See? “I told you, it’s an intimate gesture!”

You shook your head exasperatedly. “If you say so, Lee Donghyuck.”

You went back to eating, peeling off the ham and cheese from your pizza to save for later. It was your favourite part of the pizza, so you didn’t want to waste it.

“Y/n…” Chenle’s warning tone made you look up in fear.

“Yes?”

“What in the world are you doing?”

“I just like ham and cheese,” you replied defensively. “Is there something wrong with that?”

Chenle shook his head exasperatedly. “No, just- that’s the weirdest way of eating pizza I’ve ever seen.”

“Well,” you said, licking your fingers clean, “Jaemin used to separate the gummies into flavours and pass me all the strawberry ones when he was little because he hates strawberries, so you should give me a pass for this one.”

While Jaemin tried to defend himself against your sudden jab at him, Jeno set up his computer on the table and waved everyone who was done eating over onto the bed, using his mini projector (he was a film major) to project his screen on the wall.

“What do y’all want to watch?”

“All of us are dead,” Renjun said without hesitation. You and Jisung looked at each other nervously, not being lovers of horror movies and especially hesitant because of the zombies in the series. However, you were outnumbered 6 to 2, so you settled in under the blanket and drew it up to your eyes, prepared to scream if anything scary happened.

Jisung didn’t join you, probably to hang onto whatever shreds of fragile masculinity he still had. You had thrown away all of yours because it wasn’t like you could control your fear anyway. You preferred to scream in comfort, thank you very much.

The episode started out surprisingly tame, so you lowered the blanket and leaned forward to get a better look.

Donghyuck let out a little “oof” when you rested your chin on his shoulder, but only scooted backwards so you could have a better view.

You were just starting to get absorbed in the story, thinking that maybe it wasn’t so bad after all, when one of the girls was turned into a zombie.

“Fuck!” You screamed, leaping back as the girl’s neck cracked at an unnatural angle, blood dripping from her nostrils and mouth. You cowered under the blanket that you had hurriedly pulled over your head, shuddering in fear with your hands clasped tightly over your ears.

You were still trembling when you finally decided to peek out from under the blanket, meeting Mark’s and Donghyuck’s concerned eyes with a reassuring smile.

“I'm all right, y’all. Just surprised.”

Mark snorted. As if. But he didn’t challenge you, instead asking, “Why the hell do you know fuck in Korean and not ‘delivery service’? One of them is clearly more commonly used than the other.”

“Yeah, and that’s fuck. I think you forgot that we’re all still teenage guys and male youths. Swearing is part of our vocabulary.”

“Fair enough,” Mark conceded.

Donghyuck, on the other hand, came closer to you, back pressed to the wall as he rubbed your back comfortingly. “Do you want to watch something else?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s alright. It’s actually interesting, I just get grossed out.”

Donghyuck nodded in understanding. “I'll sit beside you, and when the scary scenes show up, I'll cover your ears so you can pull the blanket over yourself. Sounds good?”

You nodded.

The episode continued, and you successfully made it three entire episodes before you got another jumpscare, and Donghyuck did as he had promised, wrapping your head tightly in a hug so you couldn't hear a single thing.

He squealed, “cute!” when you were scared and hugged you tightly. He covered your view so well you didn’t even need the blanket to hide the scene from yourself.

Donghyuck ended up hugging you for the rest of the night, and you leaned your head on his shoulder and squeezed his hands extra tightly whenever something happened, shutting your eyes when you heard any crunching sound.

Just like that, you made it through one season of “All of Us are Dead”, falling asleep past midnight with your only friends in university in your room, with someone by your side embracing you as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

—

While you were asleep, the others cleaned up the mess that they had made, throwing out the empty pizza boxes and takeout utensils, wiping the table clean and moving all clothes to one side.

The dreamies from the other room left after bidding Mark, Renjun and Donghyuck goodnight, while the remaining three in your room took turns showering in the toilet.

When Donghyuck, the last of the three, came out of the toilet towelling his hair dry, he realised that you were lying across two beds, blanket kicked off your feet.

He hung his towel up and went over to you, sighing as he placed his hands under you and tried to lift you up.

However, he forgot that you were both taller and bulkier than him, and staggered back when he tried to carry you. He rested his hands on his hips, staring down at you as the gears whirred in his mind, trying to figure out a way to move you.

Mark’s eyes flitted open, and he had a clear view of you and Donghyuck from his bed. He saw Donghyuck struggling but chose not to say a thing, waiting patiently for Donghyuck to make another move.

With a soft groan, Donghyuck hefted you into his arms and staggered around the bed before dropping you back down, in the correct position that time, on the right bed.

Luckily, you were fast asleep, so you didn’t wake up. Mark reached over to Renjun’s bed and nudged him awake, whispering, “Bet you 10,000 won that when they end up together, Donghyuck will kiss Y/n first.”

Confusion flashed over Renjun’s face before he understood. He hadn’t realised that Donghyuck was clearly interested in you, hadn’t even known that he was interested in males until Mark pointed it out. But once it had been brought to his attention, it seemed as if it had been clear all along.

“He’ll never confess aloud, I bet Y/n will have to make the first move,” Renjun countered.

“We’ll see,” Mark said. Renjun agreed, and soon the room fell silent as all four occupants drifted off into dreamland.

THE NEXT DAY WAS A SATURDAY, so everyone woke up late. By the time you opened your eyes, it was 9am, and you were the second one up. The bed beside you was Donghyuck’s, and it was empty.

Donghyuck didn’t seem like a morning person to you, so you were surprised that he had left the dormitory room so early in the morning. You blinked tiredly, hauling yourself out of bed to get breakfast. The sound of you rummaging through the mini-fridge for food must have been quite loud, because Mark woke up and stared blankly at you, eyelids drooping sleepily.

“What’re you doing?” He mumbled.

“Looking for ingredients to make breakfast with. We only have ramyeon, but I’m pretty sick of that.”

“Hyuck works at his mom’s bakery on weekends, there’s probably food there. If you’re hungry, just head over and get food from him. He’ll know what we like, and you can buy whatever you want.” With that, Mark fell back asleep before you could ask him to tell you the address.

Just then, a yellow-coloured post-it on the table caught your eye and you went over to take a look. It said in neat handwriting, “y/n, i’ve left for work. if you want to come over to café 127, you can study there and we can take the bus back to the dorms afterwards. it’s pretty close by,” and the address, signed with “yours, hyuck.”

“Huh,” you said, tucking the note into your pocket after looking up what bus to take to get there. It was only a couple of stops away, awfully convenient, and you weren’t going to give up the chance to study.

You changed into presentable clothes, grabbing a coat and your wallet before heading out of the door.

—

The café was bigger than you had expected. It was really close to the university, and located on the streets, so you couldn't possibly miss it. You loitered outside the café for a bit, debating whether to go in.

A flash of movement caught your eye, and you saw Donghyuck flitting about, taking customers’ orders.

Inhaling deeply, you squashed your nerves and calmed yourself down, going inside.

The café smelt like… Donghyuck, oddly enough. It smelt like vanilla essence and chocolate chips, and the same scent of perfume that Donghyuck probably used. You must have unconsciously associated the scent of Donghyuck with home, because entering the café felt like coming home to warmth after a long, cold day.

You grinned at Donghyuck and waved at him, taking a seat by the window. You placed your bag on the seat and went to buy yourself something, queueing in line behind two other people.

When it was your turn, your gaze flickered downwards, darting over the black, dapper uniform Donghyuck was wearing. The simple apron that bore a golden-brown logo on the right side wouldn’t have looked half as good on anyone else, not that you would admit it.

“Morning, Hyuck. I’d like…” your voice trailed off as you realised you didn’t even know what they sold. You peered into the display case, seeing fudge brownies and cinnamon rolls for sale.

Donghyuck’s mother bustled past, giving Donghyuck a few orders when she caught sight of you, stopping short in her tracks with a delighted gasp.

“You’re such a handsome man,” she told you. “You look like a prince!”

“Mum,” Donghyuck whined. “He’s my friend, you’re embarrassing me.”

Donghyuck’s mother laughed, and her mannerisms were exactly like Donghyuck’s. Her face crinkled up and her eyes disappeared into a line, and even the sound of her laughter was exactly like her son’s. Mama’s boy, you thought to yourself.

“Silly boy, of course you’re handsome too. After all, you are my son.” At that, even you broke into laughter. That must have been where Donghyuck got his confidence from. Donghyuck rolled his eyes and asked you to get on with your order.

“I’d like a cinnamon roll, please,” you decided, and paid for it.

“You just like cinnamon rolls because you're basic,” Donghyuck teased, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“And what about it?”

Donghyuck raised both his eyebrows at your defensive tone, but he didn’t take the bait, instead handing you your change and order. “Have a nice day, prince.”

You shot him a confused look, then realised he was teasing you for what his mother had said about you. “You too, pretty boy.”

It was good that you had turned around so you couldn’t see how furiously Donghyuck blushed when you said that.

—

You wouldn't have realised that it was past noon if Donghyuck hadn’t tapped your shoulder, wrenching you out of your focused state and drawing you back into reality.

In his hands, he was clutching a muffin, which he placed in front of you along with a mug full of steaming Nesquik. “Eat first, don't be so concerned about your work,” he chided, and you rolled your eyes but thanked him anyway.

When you gratefully bit into the muffin, you felt melted cheese oozing out of it, and you pulled it away from your mouth, staring at it in amazement. You took your time, savouring every bite of the muffin. It was still warm from the oven and tasted heavenly.

You spotted a few pieces of ham inside the muffin, and realised that it was a ham-and-cheese muffin! You hadn’t seen that in the display case earlier, so perhaps Donghyuck had baked it himself.

You made a mental note to ask him about it later, returning to your work with a full stomach and heart.

—

As you got up to leave, collecting your mug and the plate to return to Donghyuck for them to wash, you realised that there was a little sticky note on the other side of the mug.

It read, "for my prince. study hard <3", and you couldn’t help the blush creeping across your cheeks. You felt your face heat up as the corners of your lips lifted up into a smile. He’s so stupidly pretty.

—

Donghyuck came home smelling like pancake batter and cinnamon rolls, which was enough to confirm that you were down horrendous for him.

When he slipped into bed, his voice was slightly husky from talking the whole day as he took down orders. “Good night, Y/n.”

Instead of answering, you rolled over to face him, asking, “Do you think I'm handsome?”

Donghyuck hesitated for only a second, but it was enough to make you nervous. Why didn’t he want to respond? Was it because he didn’t like you, or something else? Your mind conjured up endless unreasonable questions, almost going crazy with the silence that was thick with tension.

“I think you're attractive, definitely. Why, are you feeling insecure?” He asked. “I hope you know that when I saw you at the airport, my first thought was ‘Shit, my position as the visual in the group is being compromised.’ I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

You were still dissatisfied, so Donghyuck approached you as if to inspect your face, and pointed at his eyes. “I'm wearing my night lenses now, so I have 20/20 vision, and as a self-proclaimed expert, I declare you a ten out of ten. Happy?”

You laughed softly. “Yes, Hyuck. Thank you.”

Donghyuck permitted himself a small smile, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “Silly prince. Now can you go to sleep?”

You nodded. “Night, pretty boy.”

The answer came almost immediately. “Goodnight, my prince.”

IT ALL WENT DOWNHILL FROM THERE.

Ever since the realisation that maybe, just maybe, you liked Donghyuck (just a little bit), everything had gone downhill. You couldn’t do a single thing without Donghyuck at the back of your mind. If you so much as walked beside him, your mind went crazy with thoughts of him brushing his arm against yours intentionally, how close you could walk next to him without being too obvious about it, how beautiful he was when he laughed or made a joke that no one laughed at.

Your mind just couldn’t shut up. Yes, you understood that you had a silly little crush. Yes, you knew that Donghyuck was gorgeous. Yes, you were one of his best friends and therefore, saw him relatively often. No, that did not mean you needed him to occupy every. Single. One of your thoughts. You were perfectly fine without the presence of Donghyuck in every crevice of your mind, thank you very much.

However, your subconscious disagreed, and continued to torture you with thoughts of Donghyuck kissing you or brushing your hair out of your face. It was too much for you to take, especially when Donghyuck seemed oblivious to the effect he had on you.

At present, his face was slightly flushed, and sweat was beading on his forehead. He was clearly tipsy, swaying on his feet as he leaned on Renjun’s shoulder. He took Renjun’s chin and turned it towards himself, as if to kiss him.

Renjun tore himself away from Donghyuck so quickly that Donghyuck should have gotten whiplash, disgust evident on his face. “Argh, don’t kiss me!”

You felt the green monster slowly loosen its grip on your throat, slinking back in shame as you breathed in heavily. What was wrong with you? There was no reason for you to be jealous. Donghyuck was just like that, he flirted with anything that had a pulse and couldn’t confront his feelings. You knew it, and yet you didn’t want to accept it.

Stinging from his rejection and very much drunk after all the alcohol he had drunk, Donghyuck was even whinier than usual, if that was possible.

He leaned on Mark’s shoulder, and soon it became a game of “Pass the Donghyuck”, and he was shifted from one shoulder to another until he had made one round from Mark’s shoulder all the way to yours.

The weight of his head on your shoulder was refreshing. It felt like you could finally think, and the fog of your crush had lifted just enough for you to realise that the Lee Donghyuck was drunk and clinging onto your shoulder.

His glasses were slipping down his nose, and you wondered why he had even worn it in the first place. You reached up to take it off, but he shook his head vigorously. “Can’t… see without ‘em. Everything’s so… blurry.” He heaved and you stepped back quickly, afraid that he would puke all over you, but he only stumbled into your arms.

You caught him, breathing out a sigh of relief. The club was terrifyingly loud and you wanted to go home.

Empty bottles littered the counter, shot glasses teetering dangerously close to the edge. You pushed the glasses in and one toppled, and you clumsily reached out to catch it before it fell, but missed. Luckily, Mark was still sober and his reflexes were fast enough for him to catch it when it rolled off the table, falling straight into his hand like that had been its trajectory all along.

Your limbs felt as heavy as lead, a feeling not unfamiliar to you. It always felt like that after a long, tiring day of dance lessons. But the feeling was somehow… different. It felt like you had lost control of yourself and it scared you. You didn’t want to lose consciousness.

“Mark,” you called, too soft for him to hear. You were tired and it took almost all of your energy to call him again, louder that time. “Mark!”

Mark turned and his smile dropped when he saw Donghyuck and you, so drunk you might’ve passed out if it weren’t for the adrenaline rushing through your veins. You felt like you were in a limbo, halfway between wide awake and unconscious, too drunk to comprehend anything but also too excited to go to sleep.

“I want to leave this place. And I think- I think Hyuck should go home too.”

Mark looked around anxiously for the others. Jaemin was sitting in a corner of the room, clearly feeling out of place. The club was too loud for both of you. At least Chenle, Jisung, Renjun and Jeno looked like they were having fun dancing, but you remembered Renjun had looked more at home when Donghyuck was leading the conversation.

Everyone wanted to go home. You were a lightweight, and Donghyuck had simply let loose and gone crazy on the vodka, but it was enough. You needed to leave, and you recognised that. It was past 3am on a Sunday night, and you all had to go home before your classes the next morning.

Mark went to collect the rest of the dreamies, and when Chenle tried to make a fuss, Mark whispered something in his ear that pleased him greatly. Without further protest, soon all the dreamies were gathered where you were and you could leave.

You all had trouble getting out of the bar, let alone getting into the car. You, Jisung and Donghyuck were stumbling like drunkards, relying on the support of your friends to get you to walk. Jaemin held on to you tightly, gripping your elbow so hard you thought it might leave marks.

His lips were pressed into a thin line, annoyed that you had drunk so much even though your alcohol tolerance was low. It was like you were children again, and you were playing video games late into the night even though you had school the day after.

Yet, even after all those years of you making stupid decisions, he was still there for you when you came crashing down. Maybe you really were his favourite cousin, after all.

The designated drivers, Jaemin and Mark, brought three passengers into each car. You and Donghyuck were meant to be split up so there were more eyes to look after each of you, but Donghyuck grabbed hold of your wrist and refused to let go.

Jaemin let out a sigh. “Jeno, you go with them.” He was the third least intoxicated and among the strongest in your group, so he had a higher chance of being able to handle the two of you.

Jeno guided you into the seat, where you collapsed, finally making yourself comfortable. You removed your coat and draped it on the head rest, while Donghyuck snuggled into your lap.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

Donghyuck nodded. “Has anyone told you you’re really pretty?”

You laughed. “Yeah, your mum.” Donghyuck cringed, and you quickly clarified. “Donghyuck, your mother literally told me I look like a prince. I’m sorry, but you can’t top that, though I’ll give you extra points because you look cute when you’re drunk.”

Donghyuck let out a little giggle and snuggled into you. You’d forgotten how clingy he got when he was drunk. “Life is so tiring,” he told you matter-of-factly.

“I agree.” Your eyes shut and you leaned your head back, the muscles in your back relaxing.

“Shh,” Donghyuck stopped you, pressing one finger to your cheek. You assumed that he had meant to silence you and placed it against your lips, but he was so drunk that his hand-eye coordination wasn’t the best. “Don’t interrupt.”

You snorted, amused.

“As I was saying, life is really tiring. It’s tiring being this handsome, it’s tiring having a crush on my roommate and not being able to confess it because I’m a coward, it’s tiring having to work instead of staying home, and it’s tiring pretending that I’m perfect.”

“What was the middle one?”

“It’s tiring having to work?”

You raised your eyebrows sceptically. That wasn’t what you had meant, and he knew it. Sure, you were drunk and could have imagined it, but you were pretty sure Donghyuck had just confessed that he liked one of you. And since he only had three roommates, you had a 33.3% chance of being the one he liked.

The odds were good, but not entirely in your favour.

Donghyuck’s forehead was sweaty and his hair was sticking to his face, so you gently brushed it out of his face, and he gripped your wrist so tightly you questioned if he was indeed drunk. If he were sober surely he wouldn’t have had that strength, but he definitely had the guts when he was tipsy.

He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, and your heart shattered inside.

Honestly, you would have been happy if he was sober. Perhaps then everything would be truthful and genuine and not the manifestation of sober thoughts, but a conscious choice. Because drunk decisions did not mean that Donghyuck would have done the same if he had been sober. You knew that he probably would not have, and that hurt deeper than you would care to admit.

Donghyuck was so oblivious to the effect he had on you. He could be making you go crazy inwardly and not care, but the moment he was drunk, he had the audacity to flirt with you. He had no care for your feelings at all, and you hated it.

If only he would really, truly love you, consciously and deliberately so you would never have to reassure your insecure thoughts. And that was something that you hated Donghyuck for, that he never wanted to commit and instead flirted with everyone like that would make him feel any better.

It wouldn’t, and you knew that all too well.

—

“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!”

You, as well as the others, were eagerly chanting as Donghyuck looked sceptically at the bottle. The table surface was rough, and the sound of the bottle spinning grated on his nerves, but he wanted to be a good sport.

He spun the bottle, biting his lip as he rolled his eyes back, and they landed on you. You could have sworn he winked, but you had no time to process it, not when your friends were cheering so loudly.

Shit. It had landed on you.

Donghyuck didn’t hesitate, leaning in towards you and tipping your chin up. He saw the reluctance in your eyes and stopped, resting on his heels.

“Are you okay with this? If you don't want to, we can stop it now,” he said, loud enough for your ears alone.

You gulped. “I'm… I think I'm fine.”

He grinned. “Then kiss me back, okay?”

And his lips were on yours. He tasted like cherry vodka and sprite and cinnamon all at once, and you didn’t know you had it in you to kiss him back.

When he pulled away, you missed it almost immediately.

“This isn’t any fun. Let’s play truth or dare instead,” he said abruptly, averting his eyes. Unlike when he had kissed Renjun, he didn't wipe his lips, and it took all of your self-control not to read into that.

You made yourself comfortable and reached for another glass but Jisung tapped your hand twice. “I think you’ve had quite enough.”

The thing was, you couldn't help it. If you didn’t have enough alcohol in your system, you would have the sobriety to overthink every single little thing Donghyuck did, and you needed a drink (or several) to remain sane.

Jisung gave you a long, hard look and an accompanying sigh when you brushed him off, but he remained silent when you poured yourself another glass and downed it, the clear liquid burning its way down your throat and lighting you up from within.

“Truth,” you heard Donghyuck say.

“Do you love him? Not just infatuation-wise. Do you see yourself in a relationship with him?” Mark.

“Dare.”

“Answer the question.”

“I-” The hesitation was enough for you to be interested in the conversation again. If Donghyuck had given his usual lighthearted response, you would have thought nothing of it. But for him to stop and actually seriously think about it… whoever he liked must have really made an impact on him.

You reached for the bottle again. This time, it was Jeno who stopped you. “It’s quite enough. Your cheeks are red, and you can barely keep your eyes open. I don't want you to get liver failure from one night out, or we’ll never be allowed to bring you out again.”

You pouted your lips at him, and Donghyuck spoke again. “Yes, I think I do.”

It was a pity that you had forgotten the question by then. It was also a pity that your eyes were barely open, for if they were open you would have seen Donghyuck’s fond look and how his eyes crinkled up when he looked at you.

—

When Mark turned around to get you out of the car, he found both you and Donghyuck asleep.

YOU JUST COULDN'T ESCAPE HIM. It wasn’t until you were consciously avoiding Donghyuck that you realised how often you saw him. Your dance classes never collided, but many of your lectures did. Sometimes, you would see him entering the lecture theatre and would studiously look away so he wouldn’t notice you were there. Not that it worked much, but on some days, he was a little more aware and would walk past you to sit with his other friends.

You were in the library that afternoon, headphones in, Mark and Renjun sitting opposite you. Everyone was quietly doing their own work, and whenever you looked up from your work, it was only to ask Mark a question.

Renjun was actually done with his own work, because unlike Mark, who always volunteered to take on extra tasks, he had a perfectly reasonable workload. And unlike Donghyuck, who signed up for social events even when his pre-reading was piling up, he was disciplined and knew how to prioritise. And unlike you, he actually understood everything that the professor was saying.

So, really he was only there to keep you two accountable and to make sure you didn’t get off track. He was reading a book, and you guessed that the unfamiliar characters on the cover were in Mandarin.

It was peaceful, at least until Donghyuck came.

“I brought you a ham-and-cheese muffin,” he said, setting the paper bag down as he slid into the seat beside you. “I got you boba too, but the librarian didn’t like that, so I left it in my bag outside. I had to convince her that I wouldn’t eat the muffin inside, but I’ll let you know that it’s still warm, so you can make your own decision.”

He winked at you, and your heart fluttered. Be still, my heart.

You bit into the muffin, and the flavours exploded in your mouth as you realised how long it had been since your last meal. You hadn’t had proper lunch that day, just brunch at 10, so 6 hours had passed since you last ate. You had forgotten this whilst studying, but your stomach gladly welcomed the presence of more food.

“You haven’t eaten since brunch, have you?” Donghyuck asked, as he saw you stuffing the rest of the muffin into your mouth. You shook your head guiltily, trying to catch the crumbs falling from your mouth.

“Chew slowly, don't choke. I’ve still got boba for you later, remember.”

And your heart warmed despite your vow not to let Donghyuck charm his way into your heart anymore. “Thanks,” you mumbled, voice muffled by the food in your mouth. You swallowed it quickly, but by then he had already turned away from you.

—

“Wait, don't you have a class in five minutes?”

It took you a couple of seconds to process that Mark was talking to you. You looked down at your watch and found that he was indeed correct. “Shit, yeah. Hyuck, isn’t that the class we both take?”

Donghyuck’s neck jerked up so quickly you feared he might break it. “You're right! We’ve gotta run for it. See you later, Mark, Renjun.”

He was out of his chair before you could say anything else, pulling you away as you ran outside. Donghyuck slung his bag over his shoulder, and you ran out into the cold with Donghyuck by your side. It was freezing cold and your lips turned numb almost immediately. The snow was heavier than you had realised, and you sorely missed the comfort of the heated library.

You were huddled closely to Donghyuck, pressed up against him as your legs moved in tandem, generating heat that you were grateful for.

“Wait,” you said, grabbing Donghyuck’s hand to stop him just before you entered the building. “Look!”

Like a child, you stuck out your tongue and waited for a snowflake to fall onto your tongue, shivering slightly when it did and melted almost immediately. You looked at Donghyuck, embarrassment warring with the need for attention, and were met with Donghyuck’s chuckle.

“Cute.”

It was one word, but it felt full of fraught emotions and possibilities.

—

You sighed in relief, collapsing in a tired heap on the chair, your cheeks and the tips of your ears still red from the cold atmosphere outside. Donghyuck noticed, of course. He reached out and cupped your ear in his hands, his palms radiating heat that made your ears feel less like frozen popsicles and more like a part of your body again.

“If I kissed you, your cheeks would definitely warm up too,” he said suddenly. You would have protested, but you weren’t fast enough to prevent him from placing a kiss on your cheek, which immediately warmed up in embarrassment.

“See! It worked.” You didn’t admit it aloud, but you agreed.

Donghyuck’s kiss was a reminder of what you had been thinking when you first arrived in Seoul. You had thought then that Seoul was nowhere as romantic as London, because you couldn't share an umbrella with your love interest in the rain and get soaked together.

But when you looked down at your coat, slightly wet with melted snow, and pressed a hand to your cheek where Donghyuck had kissed it, you realised that maybe Seoul was more romantic than you had given it credit for being. You had been too quick to judge and were lucky that you hadn’t said it aloud, or you would be eating your words.

—

You were starting to get bored and your fingers hurt from typing. At least you understood most of what was happening, but you were still starting to tire of the professor’s voice. The next time you would be doing anything interesting was in a month, and you didn’t understand how you were expected to pay attention until then.

You were really only paying attention so that you didn’t fail when you had to write your thesis next week, but even you needed a break.

Donghyuck must have read your mind because he pushed a reusable covered cup over to your table, pointing at the attached note. Through the clear container you could see the boba at the bottom, brown sugar coating the sides. You poked the straw through the hole in the cap and gratefully drank it, happy for the explosive taste of sugar in your mouth that distracted you from the boredom of the class.

A note fluttered onto your table and you picked it up in curiosity. “are you a prince (왕자; wangja)? because i want ya.”

That was when your heart stopped. Donghyuck didn’t speak English well, and you knew that. You had spent enough time with him to see how he struggled to understand you when you spoke with an English accent instead of a Korean one. Yet, he had written you a pickup line in Konglish.

What does that mean? He had to have asked Mark about it. He must have premeditated it because there was no way he had spontaneously come up with that while waiting in line for your drink.

What does that mean? The mixed signals he was sending you were about to drive you crazy. You were overthinking every detail of it, and you hated it. Why had he put in the effort to write something you were familiar with? A line you would understand and be able to laugh at? Was he hinting at something more, or did he just do that to everyone?

What does that mean? The question was running laps in your mind, as it had been since Donghyuck had kissed you at the bar. You had both been flat-out drunk, so you wouldn’t have been surprised, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it.

Maybe that was the problem; the lack of communication. It was hindering the relationship from progressing and causing your heart extreme emotional pain. Perhaps it was time for you to do something about it.

DONGHYUCK WAS THE WORST TEASE YOU KNEW. He exited the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, hair still dripping wet as he ran a hand absently through it, wiping his hand on the towel.

Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure you would need someone to call an ambulance if you didn’t stop hyperventilating.

Fortunately (or unfortunately) for you, Donghyuck seemed to notice.

He walked up to you in one fluid motion, wrapping one arm around your waist as his other hand tipped your chin up. His cockiness was getting to you, and you simply couldn’t stand him anymore. You threaded your fingers through his hair, bringing his face closer to you as you kissed him.

The hand around your waist slackened in shock, and his eyes were still wide with surprise at your boldness. But you didn’t care, and when you didn’t pull away, he gladly closed his eyes and deepened the kiss.

Your clothes were wet, and so was the floor, but you couldn’t care less because you were kissing the Lee Donghyuck, prettiest boy in the universe. The one who spent a week trying to get your beverage order right and clung tightly to you when he was drunk, the one who took every opportunity to flirt with you but softened when you were scared or tired.

He called you a prince just to rile you up and pecked your cheek when you were within range, and you loved him more than just a little bit.

“You like me?” Donghyuck asked in disbelief when you pulled away.

You traced your hand over his jaw and pressed your forehead to his. “I hate pineapple on pizza, but I’d eat Hawaiian pizza if you asked me to because you’re Donghyuck, and I’d do anything for you. I would eat your olives if you gave them to me, always. I don’t know how you haven’t noticed yet, but yes, I like you, Lee Donghyuck.”

He was rendered speechless, which were two words you would never have thought would be used to describe Donghyuck. The chatty boy had fallen silent, and you found that you missed the sound of his voice.

“I like you too, L/n Y/n. I would run with you in the snow if it meant five more minutes with you. Even if my fingertips were freezing off, I would watch you catch snowflakes on your tongue and wish you loved me back. I would kiss you while drunk a million times if it meant there was the smallest of chances that you would love me back.”

The sound of the door opening didn’t stop you, but it did stop Renjun. He hovered in the corridor as he looked between you and a towel-clad Donghyuck, debating whether to tell him to stop dripping all over the floor or leave you two alone. After a few seconds, he decided to take refuge in Jaemin’s room, leaving you two to your own devices.

Donghyuck would have stayed and held you in his arms forever if you hadn’t tapped his shoulder and asked him to get changed.

“Why feign decency at this point?” He had quipped, and you had grabbed hold of his shoulders, turning him around to face the bathroom and shoving him towards it. He had stumbled, catching himself just in time to flip you off, and you settled on the floor, laughing as he disappeared into the bathroom.

—

When he reappeared, he was so eager to see you again that he slammed into you, causing you to topple onto the bed, Donghyuck’s hands on either side of your head being the only thing preventing him from falling onto you,

You booped him on the nose and burst out into laughter at his confused face. Your laughter rang true and clear in the room, and if Donghyuck had a photographic memory, he would have replayed it in his head a million times. His eyes were filled with delight and love as he watched you slowly lowering himself next to you while you rolled over to face him.

His hand traced lazy circles down your arms, from your biceps down to your elbows, where he began drawing hearts around the scattered scars that covered your elbows.

“Tell me all about your scars.”

You had gotten that one from falling down as a kid, eager legs slipping out from under you when you forgot that you had rollerblades on, landing on your elbows and knees. Sure, you had worn elbow guards, but they had been too loose for you back then, the hand-me-downs slipping downwards as your elbows scraped against the pavement.

You remembered staring at your arms in wonder, the scraped skin stinging but not hurting enough for you to cry. You had winced at the dirt and blood covering the wound, dusting yourself off as you stood up. You had cried when your mother cleaned the wound with saline, wincing sharply and then jerking your arms away while she held tight, cleansing the wound, until you realised she was only trying to help you.

Perhaps that was what love was like. Sometimes, you didn’t realise it was for your benefit until someone else guided you to it, and you ignored what was staring right at you until it waved its hand.

Donghyuck listened. He didn’t speak, and the silence was oddly inviting. The words spilled out of your mouth like a torrent, not a second of hesitation keeping you from being vulnerable with him.

It was the same for Donghyuck.

You heard of the times he felt overshadowed and overlooked, when his older brother knew how to do everything and his younger sister followed in his footsteps. He constantly compared himself to them and others around him, never feeling like he was enough.

You heard of the times with Mark, his first friend, who used to hate him. Donghyuck had reached out multiple times to Mark, and each time he was met with coldness and annoyance. He had only ever heard Mark give monosyllabic responses and had been surprised when he had first heard Mark say a full sentence.

Yet, Donghyuck could grow on anyone. And soon, they graduated high school together, headed to the same university where they would pursue their interests while their friendship only grew stronger.

You heard about Donghyuck’s experience at parties, waking up in somebody else’s bed, hammered with a pounding headache and utterly lost. He told you how he had sorely regretted all the drinks, hurriedly getting out of bed to get as far away from the memories as possible.

Once, he was almost taken advantage of. He had woken up in a bed with a girl by his side, ill-clad with her gangly limbs all over his body. He should have at least known her name, but he didn’t even recognise her face. When he tried to peel her off of him and get dressed, she forced herself on him, and it had taken all of his drunken strength to get away.

He didn’t need to be drunk to tell you stories, because he could consciously decide to be open with you, even while sober. You didn’t either, but you were glad that you no longer needed alcohol to stop you from falling head over heels for Lee Donghyuck.

After all, he was there to stay.

RENJUN'S HUSHED WHISPERS SOUNDED URGENT even to you, causing you to open your eyes even when you wanted to seal them shut and fall back asleep.

“Good morning,” you cooed, placing kisses on each of Donghyuck’s moles. He blinked his eyes open sleepily and stared at you through half-closed eyelids before shutting them again and snuggling in closer to you.

“It’s too fucking early to be awake, go back to sleep.” Donghyuck said as he slid his cold fingers under your shirt, wrapping them around your torso as he hummed to himself. “You’re so warm…”

You shivered at his touch, jerking back in shock. Donghyuck whined softly and continued nuzzling his head against you, and you relented, moving in closer towards him while he smiled against your neck.

You caught snippets of Renjun’s conversation with Mark, hearing words like “half-naked”, “still dripping”, and “couldn’t even come in to sleep”. It didn’t take a genius to guess that they were talking about you, and the unabashed excitement on Mark’s face confirmed it for you.

You pried Donghyuck’s fingers from your skin, pushing his head away while he murmured in protest, flinging the covers off of you.

“Argh!”

“Sorry, Hyuckie.” You quickly grabbed the blanket and tucked Donghyuck back in, and he frowned at the absence of your heat, turning away from you sulkily and curling up into a ball. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, brushing his hair out of his face, gravitating towards Renjun’s conversation as it got clearer and easier to understand.

“Are you talking about me?” You asked, and Renjun almost leapt from his chair in shock. His mouth was comically open, and his eyes were wide in surprise.

“When did you wake up?”

“Just,” you assured him, taking your seat and resting your head in your hands. “So, what about me?”

“We made a bet,” Mark said, a little too quick to throw Renjun under the bus. “We wanted to guess who would make the first move. I said Donghyuck would because of his personality, but Renjun said he was too much of a coward to really do anything about it.”

“Technically, you’re both right. Hyuck did make the first move, but I kissed him first, so I think I deserve some of that credit too.”

Renjun’s head bobbed up and down so quickly you were afraid his neck might break off. “Y/n’s right. Since he kissed Donghyuck first, you owe me. 10,000 won, remember?”

Mark’s mouth opened and closed as he stared at you, flabbergasted, before he finally gave up on trying to form words and reached into his pocket instead.

As Renjun counted the money, Mark fixed you with a hard stare. “If I’m broke, you’re paying for the next meal.”

“Deal."

—

Donghyuck left the house wrapped up in thoughts of your mouth on his. He couldn’t believe that someone like you would like someone like him. It had, quite literally, never occurred to him that you might like him back.

From the first time he had set eyes on you that winter evening, seeing you next to Jaemin and the resemblance in both of your eyes and hearing your English-accented voice for the first time, he had loved you more than he should have.

He grew to like all of you, the parts of you that drank Nesquik (like a little kid) when you were tired, that craved boba but held back from buying it because it was “unhealthy”, the parts of you that hated pineapple on pizza and thought he was an idiot. He loved when you were scared of the most trivial things, only to do risky shit when you thought no one was looking.

Most importantly, he loved the way you smiled with all your heart, your mouth open wide and your lips stretched wider than he thought was physically possible. Joy was written in the crease of your smile and the folds of your skin, and he loved every part of you.

He loved you so much, in fact, that when he reached into his pocket to send you a text to tell you he missed you, he realised that he had forgotten his phone amidst the residual shock he had woken up in that morning.

When he heard his name, he whirled around at the familiar voice and saw his saviour running toward him with a Tupperware in one hand and his phone in the other, hair sticking up in all different directions, still wearing pyjama pants.

“Y/n,” he breathed out. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

You ran your hand through your hair in response, shoving his phone into his hand.

“I… saw that Mark had cut some fruits for Chenle, and I know that you’re bad at taking care of yourself so… I brought it for you. Don’t worry, I’ll cut more for Chenle later, he’ll just have to deal with not having them in his favourite container.” The words came out all in a rush, between pants and wheezes. Running clearly wasn’t your speciality.

“I wasn’t worried,” Donghyuck said. “And thank you.”

“Someone’s got to love you right, even if that means reminding you that your body requires nutrients to survive,” you muttered, and he raised his eyebrows.

“Is that so?” You nodded sagely, and he laughed, and somewhere in your mind, you managed to conjure up the word pretty.

DONGHYUCK WAS SO COCKY. You had always known it, but seeing him leaning languidly against the opening to the small photo booth, curly hair falling into his eyes, peering through his lashes as he watched your every movement, you were reminded of it.

Each of the eight of you were clutching your graduation hats, Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun and Jisung hovering outside the photo booth while they waited for you to browse through the frames.

Everyone was dressed in their graduation gowns, having rushed to take a picture at the nearby mall the second you had all received your diplomas. Chenle had insisted that four-cut photos were a tradition, and you didn’t want to miss out on the chance to take more photos.

After taking the goofiest photos ever (Jaemin had had lots of fun posing, and you had a bruise on your hip from falling into the “door” frame), the gang decided to let you and Chenle pick a frame and print it out.

“Quickly,” Jaemin’s voice called. “Y/n, what exactly are you doing? It doesn’t take that long to click an option!”

Mark left you and Chenle to choose, going outside the photo booth to pacify Jaemin.

Finally, you and Chenle managed to agree on an option that both of you liked, and the machine began whirring as it spat out the eight copies. You snatched them from Chenle, whistling as you exited the photo booth, waving the photos triumphantly at the rest.

“Done!”

All of a sudden, Donghyuck started cooing, “Aww, you want to kiss me so bad.” Before you knew what he was talking about, he tiptoed to reach your lips and gave you a quick peck.

“What?” The realisation dawned on you a moment later, remembering how you had puckered your lips while whistling. Donghyuck, ever the opportunist, had obviously taken the chance to kiss you again. “Hyuck, you kissed me. I don’t think I’m the desperate one here.”

Donghyuck would have responded if Renjun and Chenle’s hands hadn’t appeared out of nowhere, shoving you into the photo booth. The last thing you saw before they drew the curtains shut was Jaemin with his arms crossed over his chest, smirking at you.

“Guess we’re stuck together, then.” Donghyuck didn’t seem thrown off in the least, quietly clicking through the options before he settled on one. The timer beeped, and you followed Donghyuck’s lead to make a heart.

You posed a total of three times before Donghyuck ran out of ideas, and he stared at you as the countdown grew louder. Three, two, one…

“Kiss me back, Hyuckie,” you murmured as you tilted Donghyuck’s chin up to meet yours. The light flashed, and you reluctantly pulled away to check the results. The pictures turned out adorable, and you slipped it into your wallet and grinned at Donghyuck.

“You stole my line!”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Well, you were wrong about the perilla debate, so I think it evens out.”

“What do you mean? We’re together now, aren’t we? Therefore, it must have been because I separated the perilla leaves for you that one time, which makes my stand the correct one.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway because neither of us were in a relationship at the time,” you reminded him. Renjun and Jeno heard only the tail-end of your conversation as you exited the confined space, and they sighed tiredly.

Seeing their reactions, you couldn’t help but laugh. You loved Lee Donghyuck so fucking much.

- fin -

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

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1989taylorsversion · 2 years ago

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Y'ALL I'M STILL TRYING TO PROCESS IT WAS SO GOOD AND I'M SO TIRED but here are some of my thoughts from opening night recalled to the best of my abilities:

When she started with Miss Americana I legit thought I was on hallucinatory drugs

When she then proceeded to sing multiple songs from Lover BEFORE explaining that we were doing one era at a time, I was kinda panicking thinking this was Loverfest

I thought she was going to use the Lover house throughout the entire show as a way to change between eras and I almost flung myself to a premature death

THE ARCHER??? was so good and at this point I started to recover after learning we were just in the Lover section

The entire Evermore section was INSANE like... again I thought I was hallucinating??? TIS THE DAMN SEASON AND THEN MARJORIE?? TWO OF MY FAVES?? WHEN I TELL YOU I WAS ON THE FLOOR

I know people are mad Speak Now only got one song but realistically we had to sacrifice something and when she walked out in that big ass dress I once again cried because it was pure nostalgia and it was perfect imo

ATW10 was one of the most powerful live performances I've ever witnessed

The reputation section was a bolt of adrenaline and I was GAGGED by her performance of LWYMMD with all the dancers as old Taylors...

She did so much from folklore and I did not survive any of it... Betty live was like a dream come true... I think I blacked out for half of this section

I WAS THRILLED WHEN SHE SET THE LOVER HOUSE ON FIRE DURING BAD BLOOD... SHE REALLY SAID ENOUGH!!!! THE HOUSE IS DEAD!!!!!!!

The entire Midnights section was a total slay but particularly Mastermind and Vigilante Shit were sooooo good???? The way she performed both of those songs...

MIRRORBALL ACOUSTIC ON THE GUITAR WAS THE NAIL IN MY COFFIN IT WAS LITERALLY ME AND TAYLOR IN THE ROOM AND NO ONE ELSE AND I WAS SOBBING A DREAM COME TRUE!!!!!!!!!!

Generally speaking the stage was insanely cool, and the visuals were stunning... Like every moment of the production was absurdly good

#taylor swift #the eras tour #eras tour

447 notes · View notes

magnoliabutters · 2 years ago

Text

• THOUGHT YOU DIDN'T CARE •

pairing: joel miller x (18+, she/her) reader

summary: joel and ellie are tasked to move a package from jackson to san diego. little did they know you were the "cargo..."

warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language, cordycep apocalypse related violence & weapons, canon divergence, tlou part 1 & 2 spoilers; angst, medium to slow burn, pet names, voyuerism, sub!joel and dom!reader, age gap in pairing, masturbation, etc.

word count: ~6.3k

support your writer: reblogs for daddy joel ✨🌿

request: by @yourmomsmilfmistress; katrina babes, i have another idea!!! i was thinking something along the lines of (whatever male character you want/ im not picky) is OBSESSED with reader and one day after a torturous hangout he starts to 🍆💦 ( ya know) after she leaves and for some reason it's not working and it's like he's just edging himself but (of course) reader comes and walks in on it and it's like sub!male and dom!reader smut!!!

note: um… most definitely. the way i thought of joel freaking miller instantly. sub male? common now 😈 we are set in a post-tlou part 2 world where no one died, abby who?, and ellie lives happily on the farm (aka 20+ age). also, loosely following the plot of part 1. for visuals of characters, i am moving forward with what we’ve seen so far of hbo’s part one and game’s part two casting. although as it’s older ellie, i went with video game looks. hopefully that makes sense. enjoy my fellow hoes ⚡️

Don't tell them your name. Just tell them you're there to see Maria.

His words keep running through your head as you gallop atop your trusted steed, Horse. He told you, repeatedly, that they will find you - not the other way around. All you needed to do was get to the vicinity of Jackson County. Well, you are about a mile into said county and you haven't come across a single person. Let alone, a single runner.

The two things cannot co-exist this far from the cities. If there are no runners or clickers, then there must be people. If there are infected, there are no people. But emptiness? That is something unheard of. It puts you on edge. You swear you want to just yell, yell to draw something out. But that would be stupid. You don't know how many are out here ... people or infected.

You hop over a razor wired fence in the middle of the road. Its height hits a the top of your knee. Perfect stop runners. Your first sign that people have been in this neck of the woods. The deeper you get into Jackson County, you wonder why all you need to say is "I'm here to see Maria." Would these people attack you and saying those words would be the only thing to stop them? Or are they dumb enough to bring just about anyone back into their town? You have absolutely no clue what he has signed you up for.

Fear stands your hairs on end. It fuels your adrenaline and heart as Horse guides you into an opened field. On the main road, you read a sign that displays "surface may be icy." You're thankful you were assigned this job in the middle of July. In front of you, you note green ivory glued to the brick walls of an old music store. The roads were shit, as usual. Cracks and bumps from overgrowth and lack of maintenance. You hope they are not too rough on Horse's shoes. She had them switched out in Colorado, back when you saw your people last.

Horse abruptly stops. Harsh enough for your full body to push up against her back. "Fuck," you grumble with a hand to your head. "What the hell?" You slowly open your eyes to note the clicker before you. With widening eyes, you swiftly reach to unhook your knife from the saddle. As quiet as a mouse, you hop off of the pillion and carefully land your feet on the grass below. You side step as you make your way closer. its clicks grow louder as it uses its echolocation in the opposite direction.

Your eyes are constantly moving, wondering if there are any other infected around. There is luckily no movement. Just one single clicker. The fungi sporadically growing throughout its body. The cordyceps on full display on its face - if you can even call it a face. In your last two steps, you rush up to it. You hook your arm over its chest. Your fingers curve over its shoulder as you grip tightly against the rough flesh. With your other hand, you stab your knife into the crook of its neck. It quickly became limp in your arms. You let slide off your body and ultimately onto the road.

"Drop the knife," you hear behind you. The voice is rough and booming. You gradually put your hands up. You drop the knife, careful to have it fall upon its hilt and not its blade. "On your knees," it bellows. You laugh, tilting your head to the side. "No can do," you scoff. "I only get on my knees when I want to." The man behind you laughs as he slowly walks up to you. His boots crunching against the dirt and gravel.

"On your knees," another voice appears. Despite its higher tone, it is just as rough. A smile grows upon your face as you carefully drop to your knees. "Oh for you, of course," you mutter to the woman. She quickly grabs hold of your wrist and places it behind your back. Her grip harsh and tight. You release a laugh as you lean back into your captor. "I'm here for Maria," you mutter.

Abruptly, the movements behind you stop. The grasp remains tight. "Maria?" the exasperated man's voice pushes through the air. His boots' steps become faster as he rushes behind you. "Why?" the woman asks. You feel the cool head of a gun at the back of your neck. "Hey, hey, hey," you furiously mumble. "I-I'm a smuggler. I'm with a group of people who told me Maria owes them one. I just got sent here for her to pay the debt."

The gun is pressed harder against your neck. "What debt?" the man's voice asks. You move your head to the side, attempting to pull yourself away from the gun's focused point. The gun holder makes sure it stays against your skin despite your movements. "I don't even know, man. I was just sent here. They told me to say 'I'm here for Maria' and that she would know what to do," you spit out.

You hear the man pace behind you. He sighs heavily. His voice hushed as he speaks towards the woman. "I don't feel good about this, El," he whispers. "Does she have any people in her past?" the woman asks. "Not that I know of," he says as those steps draw closer once more. You are suddenly pushed to the ground. You cut up your chin as you couldn't catch yourself in time. "Fuck," you mutter into the ground. "Your name," he mumbles. "I don't have time for games." You yell as your palms lay flat against the surface. "Rita," you quickly lie.

"Alright, Rita," the man's voice bustles behind you. "Let's go." Next thing you knew, a bag was pulled over your head. Your head was then banged against the hard rubber bedding of a truck.

They grip against the bag over your head so hard that it pulls on some of your hair as it uncovers your face. Your eyes slowly blink to adjust to the light. "Shit," you grumble as you relax your arms, only to realize that you were tied to a chair. Rope. Fuck, you think. Rope hurts the most.

"Now, Rita, I'm not going to ask again. Why are you here for Maria?" The familiar voice asks. You squint to look in his direction. A latino man with slicked black hair crouches before you. You look behind him to recognize that you were in a stable - a wooden stable. There is hay all over the floor, but no horses. What kind of stable doesn't have horses? As your eyes trail back towards your feet, you note red splotches staining the wooden floor below you. "Damn it," you whisper the elongated swear under your breath. You know exactly what kind of place this is.

"I told you already, man," you whine. "My people didn't tell me shit. Just that I was assigned a job and Maria owed a ride." You look into the brown eyes staring holes into your face. "I'm here to collect on that ride," you whisper. "To where?" the man asks. "I'll tell Maria ... once I get my ride," you answer with a smirk. The man raises his fist as his upper lip tenses. You wince at the sight.

“Tommy!” You recognize the woman’s voice as he holds back his fist. She walks out from the darkness of one of the stables. You smile at the sight. She looks younger than you. Her reddish brown hair gave you goosebumps. Her eyes a greenish blueish grey. Something you would have envied as a child. She some how looks sweet, but also has clearly endured so much in her short time.

“So, we have Tommy,” you share as you nod towards the man. “And El,” you murmur as you look up to her. You smile - a smile that El winces at. “I’m not here to cause trouble,” you sigh as you attempt to shrug against the chair. “I don’t want to give anyone grief. I just need to talk to-” Suddenly, a remarkable woman bursts through the doors. Another man at her side. Her eyes serious and hellbent. Her skin a deep and beautiful brown. She is undeniably gorgeous, and surprisingly pregnant. She definitely had the glow, complete with her large firmed bump. “Tommy, what the hell is this?” she asks sternly.

Maria, you think. They never gave you a picture, but you knew from the second she commanded that room. The second both Tommy and El backed away from you. Their hands either up or open at their sides. She was in charge. And she was headed right for you. “Maria,” you say with a sing songy voice. Her head shoots your way. “I need a ride.”

Maria stares down at your smile. Her upper lip pulls, just like Tommy’s. “Where?” she asks calmly. “San Diego,” you answer. “San Diego?” she scoffs. “I don’t owe them that much.” You tilt your head, smiling to yourself. “Well, someone thinks you do,” you smirk. Tommy grunts as he steps towards you. Maria quickly puts out an arm across his chest.

With a sigh, she returns her gaze to you. Her arm still across his chest. You are curious about those two. “I obviously can’t take you myself,” she mutters. ��Obviously,” you affirm as you nod towards her stomach. “I’ll find you someone. You’ll leave in the morning,” she says carelessly. She turns around and speaks to her people. “Untie her,” she says under her breath.

The man who walked in with her quickly follows through with her demand. You rub your wrists and forearms where the rope’s red rings pressed into your skin. You stand with the devil’s smile across your face. El is the first to walk up to you, while Tommy’s eyes are still daggers. “Hey, sorry,” she says as she rubs the back of her neck. “Things didn’t go so well the last time a new person asked about one of our people.” You hum as you nod. “Make sense,” you say under your breath as you return your gaze to Tommy.

“Maria’s his wife,” El adds as she follows your eyes. “He’s been extra sensitive, given the baby and all.” You smile at her words. She pulls your attention. “It’s also Ellie by the way,” she mumbles. She gestures goodbye and walks out. “Rita?” the man asks. You look at him with confusion. “My name’s Jesse. Come on, follow me.” With hesitation, you follow the tall man out into the dark night.

Your eyes quickly fall upon the string lights crossing from building to building. It is so beautiful your mouth gapes open. “We have a small bed and breakfast for travelers,” he shares as he points to a building at the end of the street. “Shit - a bed and breakfast?” you scoff under your breath. As you walk, you note the happy and clean people randomly walking about. They are loud - comfortably loud. It must be nice.

“Where you from?” Jesse asks. His gaze stuck on you. “I don’t do small talk,” you say with a weak smile. “I don’t mean to be rude.” He laughs, raising his hands. “No, I get it. Just trying to make conversation,” he answers. “Oh, well if we’re making conversation, tell me what your favorite color is,” you teasingly laugh. He chuckles, shooting you a sweet smile. “Orange,” he scoffs. “You?” You nod, smiling as you step onto the front deck of this apparent bed and breakfast. “Green.”

With quick goodbyes, you go inside and easily secure your room. The room is on the first floor. Inside the small space, you have a worn down desk, chair, and bed. Your pack is already resting against the foot of the bed frame. You grab the back of the chair and hook it underneath the door’s knob. You turn the lock and deadbolt the door. When you finally lay back to rest, you reflect on your day. It didn’t go as well as you had hoped - as you had been told. But at least you are alive. At least you are on your way to San Diego.

After the best sleep of your life, Jesse led you to a building across the way. Maria, Tommy, Ellie, Jesse, another woman and a man sit alongside a long dinner table. The woman appears sweet. She sits closely to Ellie. The man is something else. His demeanor laid back, like he had no care in the world. His face kind, but also worn thin after years of this shit world. You can immediately see through the facade and know he is good. But damn does he give off such a strong guard dog vibe. He has random patches of grey amongst his black hair and beard. His eyes dark, but youthful. You struggle to keep your eyes off of him. He watches you, though. He sized you up as soon as you walked through the door.

“Rita,” Maria calls out. You are too busy attempting to watch him through your eye lashes. “Rita,” she says louder. You quickly turn your attention to her. Only now remembering that Rita was the name you gave them. “Yes,” you answer with high energy. “These are my best people,” she shares. “I want Joel and Ellie on this.” Ellie sits up straight, shocked as she exchanges looks with the girl beside her. The two begin to discuss in hushed tones. The man abruptly turns towards Maria, disingenuously laughing under his breath. “No, Maria,” he scoffs. “That ain’t happening.” The man stands, his hands firm against the table. He must be Joel. Rarely have you met someone who’s name perfectly fits them. It makes you smile.

Maria sighs as though she saw this coming. “I would go myself-” she starts. “So let me go,” Tommy interjects. Joel and Maria quickly respond “no” in unison. Maria takes a breath as she slowly looks to her partner. “I’m about to pop. You can’t go,” she whispers. “I need you.” Tommy solemnly nods as he looks back towards the rest of the group. Maria turns back to Ellie with patient eyes. “Ellie, Dina - are y’all okay with this?” she asks. Dina nods, looking at Ellie. "J.J. will be fine. You should go," she whispers. Ellie then turns to Maria and nods.

Joel's scoff could be heard from two buildings down. "This is bullshit, Maria and you know it," he yells as he slams his hand against the table. Tommy stands, pointing towards him. "Watch it, Joel," he warns through gritted teeth. Maria takes a breath as she looks between Ellie and Joel. "You two have gone across state lines more times than any of us. This should be easy as pie," she says softly. He rolls his eyes as a deep, unenthused chuckle falls from his lips. "What's the cargo?" he asks with furrowed brows as he looks off in the distance.

Maria turns towards you. She rakes over you with slight confusion and hesitation. Within a second, there was a moment where her face smoothed out. She took a breath and returned to Joel. "She is," she states with finality. Your face remains looking down the table, but your eyes travel to Joel's seat. He gradually turns to look at the group. With a guttural growl, he says, "Absolutely not." Maria throws her hands up. "Joel, they will come to collect. I will not put anyone else's life in danger," she yells.

"If they come to collect, they can take her dead body," Joel booms as he pulls a gun from his holster and points it towards your head. You remain still. Your breathing intensified as the remainder of the group stands to their feet. "Joel," Maria says softly. "We need her - whether you like it or not. We need her in San Diego." Joel exhales through his flared nostrils. His mouth tight as he looks down at you through the sights of his pistol.

"What's so important about her?" he asks as he lowers the gun. Maria sighs in relief. "I don't know," she shakes her head. "All I know is these people helped us in a pinch back when me and dad started up. They said they'd come to collect and all they needed was a team to get something to San Diego." Tommy watches her intently. It must have been the first time she shared this with him. "I've seen what these people have done when groups don't pay up, Joel," she mutters. "We will not win that fight without losing everything."

Joel sucks his tongue against the back of his teeth. He holsters his gun and walks towards the front door. He hooks a backpack over his shoulder and turns back towards the group. "Ellie?" he asks as he slowly opens the door. You turn to watch Ellie kiss Dina. She presses her head against hers and whispers things you cannot make out. They separate with a strong embrace. Ellie walks towards Joel. "You coming, Rita?" she calls out behind her. You stand immediately. Your shocked eyes fall upon Maria and Tommy as you attempt to process everything that has happened in the past few minutes. You grab your pack and walk out to meet the pair in the street.

Ellie watches Joel with trust and a hint of distaste. You wonder about their story. As you walk up, the two stop talking and turn to look at you. "Hello," you greet awkwardly. "While we're out there, you do exactly what I say - when I say. Understand?" Joel says sternly as he points a finger in your face. How could those sweet eyes simultaneously look so threatening? "Understood," you whisper under your breath as you exchange looks with Ellie.

Joel quickly turns and heads straight to what looks like a mechanic's garage. "Does he always have a stick up his ass?" you ask as you skip to catch up with Ellie. She smiles, nervously biting her lip. "At first," she mutters under her breath as her eyes remain on him. "The Chevy," he asks a man standing behind the desk. He promptly hands him keys without question. You nod, noting how nice it must be to live in Jackson.

"Chevy, huh?" you say, attempting to start a conversation with the man. Joel completely ignores you as he slides the keys into the door handle. "Nice try, but he's not going to crack for a while," Ellie whispers in your ear as she walks to the other side of the truck. You laugh as you open the side door and hop into the backseat. "Seatbelt," he says softly as he points Ellie's way. "Oh," she mutters as she slides it over her body and clips it at her side.

The three of you sat in silence for the first hour of the trip. It was unbearably boring. Wyoming's sights were not as incredible outside of Jackson county. You wish you could sleep, but did not trust the two enough to even try. "Joel," Ellie starts but continues to laugh. "Remember when we cleared this hotel. Remember the tomatoes?" She laughs so hard that she holds her stomach. She leans fully against the passenger seat as she kicks her feet up. You swear you watch Joel crack a smile as he watches the girl burst into a laughing fit. You wish you got a better look.

"What happened with the tomatoes?" you curiously ask Ellie. She turns, struggling to speak between laughs. As she starts, Joel quickly interrupts her. "Don't tell her anything. She's cargo, nothing more," he instructs. Ellie sinks into her chair. Her expression perplexed as she seemed excited to share. "Just cargo, huh?" you taunt. His face remains still as he eyes focus on the road. "Wow, you Jackson people are the sweetest I've ever met," you say sarcastically. "Maybe I should just dip out on this trip. I can probably make it on my own."

Joel quickly slams against the breaks. Your shoulder digs into the back of his seat as you let out a stunned groan. "What the hell?!" you yell. "We are taking you to San Diego, or we are taking your body," he turns to say with stern eyes. You place distance between you two. A sudden rush of alertness and danger bursting through your body. "Let me be clear. I don't care if you're dead or alive by the end of this trip. We are paying off Maria's debt," he seethes. "I'd recommend shutting up if you plan to get there alive."

You suck your tongue against your cheek as you laugh under your breath. You lean back harshly against the back of your seat. "Eyes on the road, asshole," you say as you nonchalantly gesture towards the street. He rolls his eyes as he faces forward behind the wheel. He presses on the gas gradually. Ellie sits in awkward silent with a tight lip. She finds comfort in looking out the window.

Less than a week has gone by and you are barely crossing the border into Utah. In each passing day, you learn something new about Ellie. She loves to draw. She met her partner, Dina, on the first day she got to Jackson. Her son is named after Jesse and Joel. She calls him her "potato" - an incredible nickname you find endearing. The days are starting to blend together, but Ellie remains a highlight of each.

Joel, on the other hand, has remained annoyingly silent. He solely speaks to Ellie. If he does choose to talk to you, it is usually some demand where he forgot how to say "please." He is abundantly cold. It is infuriating. Here and there, you catch him staring your way. His glimpses seem familiar, as opposed to his usual and intentional looks of anger.

He never looks at your eyes, but his gaze tends to fall on your lips and hair. Any time you caught his eye line, he would immediately look away. The way his gaze lingered on you always left you in a ball of confusion. You thought you would have been on edge, being stared at for hours on end. Yet, you loved it. It made you feel seen. It made you feel beautiful. If he wasn't so vocal about his disapproval, you would think he had a "thing" for you. For now, you just enjoy his looks - hoping they are filled with adoration and not hatred.

Luckily for the three of you, communication was not needed as much when taking out the infected. The trio even came across a group of clickers a day ago. Without saying a word, the three put on their gas masks and stepped into the spores. They could all hear the clicking echoing through the old and damaged walls. With only nods and looks, the three separated and silently took down each clicker.

You turned to look at them with excitement. “That was awesome!” you said joyously. “Very SWAT-team.” Ellie was kind enough to crack a smile as she cleaned her blade on the side of her jeans. You turned to Joel, waiting for any reaction. He gave you absolutely nothing. He shook off the blood on his machete and gracefully placed it back onto his backpack. He then immediately moved toward the cabinets in front of him to search for supplies. God, did he really not have a sense of humor?

Tonight, you find yourself resting beside Ellie in a closed off room. The day was once again filled with ambiguous look exchanges with Joel. Your body aches from taking out runners. You wonder if you'll be in pain for the entire trip. The room rests at the end of a long hallway with no other entrances or exits. The only doorway to the outside was located at the end of the hallway and was guarded by the one, Joel Miller. You continued to wrestle with sleep as you lay uncomfortably in your sleeping bag. You have now spent hours staring at the plant infested ceiling. Ellie, luckily, rests peacefully at your side. She felt safe enough to put earbuds in to help her sleep. Another thing of hers to be jealous of.

After a few hours, you decide that it will most likely be impossible for you to sleep tonight. You quietly stand and put your pajama shorts over your undies. You open the door into the hallway. It's long corridor was scarier at night. You pull your flashlight from your pocket. Clicking it on, you remind yourself that the only door is at the very front. You would undeniably see if anyone entered the dark hallway with you.

As you reach the end of the hall, you begin to hear quiet moans coming from the other side of the door. Your mind quickly rushes to the thought of a runner making their way inside. But once you hear slight heavy breathing and groans, you immediately recognize that the sounds were coming from Joel. Excitement bursts through your chest as you press your ear against the door. You could not have imagined a better sound escaping his lips. His groans sound so sweet, so supple. You wish you could be the reason they fall from his lips.

You nervously turn back to see that the door at the other end of the lengthy hallway remained close. There was no way anyone would be able to hear at the other end. Not unless they were right where you were standing. With a smile, you hear his breathing louden. You wish you could see him. See his brows pulling together as his mouth hangs open. You wish you could watch him stroking himself. You would bet on your life that his cock was large and girthy. You have been stealing glances of it beneath his tight jeans.

Your mouth starts to water as you hear his moans grow louder. It takes all your strength and will not to burst through the doorway and beg him to let you help. God, would you absolutely beg for that man - without question. You wonder who's on his mind. Who could possibly be the lucky person whom he is wanking off to? Your legs feel weak. You actually contemplate sitting down and playing with yourself alongside his intoxicating moans.

“Oh, Rita,” you hear fall from his mumbling lips. Your entire body lights up with pleasure. He is thinking about you… Your legs buckle beneath you as you struggle to stay standing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hear escape his lips. He must be close. You swear you can hear the slapping against his skin. All your blood rushes towards your clit. You want him - bad.

Out of no where, Joel stops. You hear a sound of frustration but remain curious. Was he edging himself? Shit. Why is that even hotter? you think to yourself. His moans slowly start again. Your mouth hangs open as you tighten your knees together. The friction feels good but it’s definitely not enough. You wish you could touch him. You wish he would be muttering your name as your hand strokes his dick. You wish his big hands could hold your head down as you take all of him in your mouth.

Almost as though you two were connected, Joel’s moans started to repeat more and more. His breathing heavies as your knees tighten harsher and harsher against themselves. Your clit now pulsating, desperate for stimulation. You cover your mouth, hoping your own gasping breaths were not loud enough to hear in the other room.

His voice strains as he gets closer and closer. He mumbles again, “Yes, Rita.” Shit, why aren’t you already in there? Your entire body is on fire but, oh, so nervous. You hear his skin slapping against each other. His moans growing louder. You hear a bump against the wall. His voice begins to break. God, he’s so fucking close.

“Oh baby just like that,” Joel whines. “Cum for me,” you whisper on repeat. Then silence fills the air. You worry if he might have heard you. You’re sure that him catching you listening in is so much worse than you catching him jacking off. “Damn it,” he yells softly with a grunt. That’s when you realize he isn’t edging on purpose. It seems like he can’t get past that final push. To release all that pent up energy.

You could help him. You know you want to. It’s the right thing to do. He must be in so much pain - all swollen down there, thinking about you. You would be helping him. You are so selfless. With a deep breath for courage, you quickly knock and open the door.

You spot Joel in his jean shirt. His legs are spread wide while he sits, bare, on the couch. His pants wrapped around his ankles as he holds his lengthy cock in one hand. His head rests back onto his other. As he hears the door creak open, he nervously grabs hold of a pillow and covers himself. You have never once seen shock and worry on the man’s face until now.

“Shit,” he yells as he scrambles to cover himself. You play dumb, covering your gaping mouth with your hand. “I’m so sorry Joel,” you whisper. “I-I thought I heard my name so I came out here,” you slyly taunt as you end with a smirk. Joel’s usual annoyed face returns as he realizes you know the truth. “Why didn’t you just come get me?” you ask innocently as you sit on the arm rest of his couch.

Joel watches you in confusion as he recognizes your advances. “I shouldn’t have done this, I’m-” he starts. You swiftly interrupt, “No need for apologies. I’m just confused is all.” You gracefully fall beside him. Your bare thigh touching his. The tips of your fingers dance atop his thigh. His grip onto the pillow covering his unit grows tighter by the second. “I thought you didn’t care about me,” you whisper as you lean closer to his face. You are now still, a few inches from his face.

"We don't have to do this," Joel mutters. His teeth locked as he watches you. He must think he's in danger. No, its quite the opposite. "Do what, Joel?" you ask as you pull away from him. You note a chair across from him. His backpack is sprawled over it. You carefully carry the backpack and place it closer to him. To show him that you are not something to be scared of. You then turn to sit in the chair. Your legs spread open as you bite your lip. Your eyes rake over the vulnerable man in front of you.

Joel watches you. He takes in shaky breaths. It is almost as though he is more nervous, now that he understands your intent. "Don't stop on my accord," you say as you gesture towards him. You slowly cross your leg over the other, batting him off with your eye lashes. You gently laugh as you watch him sit still, uncomfortable. "Oh, I get it," you murmur with a nod. "You need help." You watch your shoulder as you slowly push your spaghetti strap off it. You do the same with the other side. When you look back at him, a smirk is shown across your face.

His eyes are darker than normal. He still holds the pillow firmly against the skin between his legs. "Don't stop, Miller," you whisper as you slowly pull your shirt up. You expose your breasts to the cool air. Your nipples immediately harden. He involuntarily bites his lip as his eyes grow full of wonder. With that, he gradually pulls the cover off and shows his enormous cock. You start salivating. Fuck, you knew it would be big.

Joel's thumb starts to move slowly up and down his shaft. His eyes now fully on you. No pulling away this time. Pleasure fills your chest as you raise your chin and open your mouth. You lick your lips, hell-bent on tasting him. He starts to smile between soft moans. His rubbing becoming quicker as your hands calmly travel up your stomach and to your tits.

His breathing shakes harder as your fingers circle your nipples. Your tongue resting gently against your bottom lip. He loves it. His moans become louder as he watches you. "Oh baby," escapes his lips as he watches your sensual movements. "The name's y/n," you whisper. You smile at the shock spreading across his face. "I want to make sure you're moaning the right girl's name this time."

"Your name's y/n," Joel mutters under his breath. His movements stop as he watches you gradually open your legs. Your shorts clearly expose your inner thighs. It shows enough to give him the slightest sneak peek. "And your name is Joel," you coo. “Does that change anything?” He scoffs. A smile spreads across his face. First time you’ve seen it and shit is it beautiful. “Not a single thing,” he mutters. “Then rub one out for me, daddy,” you whisper as your hand travels down your stomach and atop your shorts.

Joel presses his tongue against his cheek as his smile grows larger. His hand starts to rub against his hardened cock. His fingers wrapped around his girth. You bite your lip. You wish it was your hand, but you are not giving up control. “Yeah, start slow,” you murmur as you adjust in your seat. His eyes track you. His eye line at your lips, waiting for the words to just flow out.

His breathing intensifies as he drops his jaw in excitement. “Ooo, just like that,” you whisper as you try to maintain deep breaths. Your clit begins to pulsate. Begging you to jump atop of him. “What next, y/n?” he asks with a gaping mouth. He fully enunciates your name with a smirk at the end. You laugh as your brows bounce. “Hm,” you think aloud. Your finger tapping against your chin. “Have your other hand play with your balls.”

Joel’s brow raises as he’s slightly taken aback. “Don’t make me say it twice,” you playfully seethe through your teeth. He sighs with a smile as his other hand moves from atop his thigh. He cups his balls slowly. A thumb rubbing between them. You suck in a deep breath as you adjust again in your sit. You can’t get comfortable. Your body screams that the only seat you want is on his lap.

His lower jaw keeps moving as deep breaths fall from his lips. “Shit,” he breathes. His eyes close ever so slightly. “Mmm’such a good boy,” you whisper. “Let me hear you.” He gasps as the muscles in his legs begin to tighten. He lets out a low moan. One so deep your entire body shakes. You let out a hesitant breath as your hand covers your mouth. You are trying so hard to keep in control, to be the dominant one - but shit did you want him to wreck your pussy so badly.

“I know you can moan louder than that,” you murmur with a grin. Joel softly laughs and quickens his movements. His breath is fast. His eyes closed. He sits up straighter. His hand slaps against his skin. You spot precum falling from his tip. “Shit,” you mumble under your breath. His head starts to fall back. It rests against the wall. He moves faster and faster. You squeeze your thighs together, holding your breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he whines. You could just about faint. “God, you’re going to make me cum, y/n.” You dig your nails into your thighs. You want nothing more than to see this gorgeous man cum all over himself. “Cum for me, Joel,” you whisper in excitement. Your entire body feels on fire. Goosebumps travel throughout your skin. “I want your big cock deep inside me, Joel. Please cum for me,” you gripe in an innocent voice.

“Oh, fuck,” Joel moans as his brows pull together. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter than before. You hear his voice raise in pitch. Higher and higher as his body moves faster and faster. You note him thrusting into his own hand. He looks so strong. He would feel so good thrusting inside of you. Finally, his breathing fastens and he starts to moan louder than before.

“I’m cumming. I’m cumming, y/n,” he whisper yells as his body tenses up. You immediately rush in front of him. You sit on your knees as you watch the show, up close and personal. Beads of cum stream down his elongated cock as he strokes firmly. You place much effort in keeping your hands to your sides. You watch as his breaths begin to slow.

“Fuck, Joel,” you say breathless. His eyes start to open. He lets out a gentle laugh through his smiling face. You crawl between his legs. His smile quickly falling as he curiously watches you. There you sit, his softened unit before you. “Your turn to help me, Miller,” you say as you bite your lips. His smile re-emerges as his hand pushes your shoulder back towards the ground. His body slides over you until his face hovers above yours. “Yes, ma’am,” Joel whispers as he plants a kiss on your lips so hard, yet so soft, that you completely fall head over heels for the man.

note: whatcha think? joel screams sub and fuck do i love it. also episode 3?? can someone just cry with me about that real quick? shall there be a part two? 🤫

*edit: there shall be & here it is

taglist: @fan-fiction-floozy, @dirtydianaahah

reblogs are much appreciated! feel free to comment or message if you’d like to join a tag list! 🌿✨🌿

• nav • no-no plagiarism • one shot • requests open •

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the-fiction-witch · 1 year ago

Text

Worship My God

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating SMUT AF LIKE SERIOUS SMUT

Writes Notes: Okay! I know I don't often do this but this ain't a normal fic right here, that rating up there, that SMUT AF is not enough for this! is there was another level above SMUT AF I'm not even sure this would come under that it would be a bit to intense, So! I'm serious! Head my warning, this is gonna be serious! if your still in... enjoy the ride I guess.

I stood in my chamber and got myself into my frock for the day, as this day was to be a very remarkable day indeed if I had the strength to go through with it. I had been waiting for this day for longer than I could face and now it truly was here, I could scarcely believe it. Often pinching my arms to check I was not still in the cling of sleep.

"Will that be all Miss Y/l/n?" My Maid Isa asked as she finished up,

"Of course, head home Isa, I'll be just fine tonight," I told her,

She nodded and gathered up her things before she left my house.

I watched the clock's hands move agonizingly slow as I waited for this afternoon, The mere concept of what will soon transpire was beyond my own heart's reckoning. I could not help but bite my bottom lip, I held it between my teeth for the mere thought that he would be on his way here, the sound of his steps, the shift of his garments, the bounce of his hair all of it exhilarated me more than anything else in this world. The visual of him within my mind was enough to fill me with heart-racing adrenaline. I found each tick to be agony to wait as a tightness grew between my legs and a throbbing sensation that I knew I could not resist.

I moved my body to my bed, I enveloped my arms around my wooden bedpost my fingers caressed the shapes in the wood. I forced myself closer and closer as I held the bedpost tighter until I felt the gentle curve of the spherical section make itself known against the petticoats of my frock. I adjusted myself in such a way, that my legs were on either side of the bedpost and my grip tightened as I absentmindedly and uncontrollably began to thrust my hips.

Immediately I began to whine as the stiff wood rubbed through my dress onto where so desperately required attention, my fingers finding cubbies and sections to rest as my grip only tightened, my breath hitched and my mind flooded with ecstasy as I only got more and more frantic. My whines had by now turned to pleads and mutterings between moans "Uhhh! uuuhh!" I tried to restrain but these sounds came from me uncontrollably as did he whom had caused me to be this way. "Dr Dawkins... Ummmm..." I began to grow more merciless on myself but no matter how hard I tried, I could not reach the heights I needed leaving myself only to wallow in rising frustrations.

I forced myself away and sighed, I spritzed my perfume and let my face cool down unable to quell these horrific frustrations. But I hoped that today may be the day. I headed downstairs and adjusted things in my living room, I made sure the windows were all tightly locked shuttered tight and curtains pulled, I threw a log on the fire to keep it burning gently, I lit a few candles around my room and adjusted pillows on the chamise and chair giving them a fair plump.

My heart jumped into my throat as I heard a knock on the door, I almost wanted to scream.

I didn't want to wait but I didn't want to seem too eager, so I slowly went to the door and fixed myself in the mirror before I opened it. To the reveal the handsome sight.

There on my doorstep stood Dr Dawkins, in his usual brown shoes, washed-out brown trousers with a hint of a darker brown plaid pattern to them but they had been so worn and washed it was almost unnoticeable, a long sleeve white shirt with well-worn slightly stained sleeves, a blue textured waistcoat in need of a good dust wack, a washed out green tie around his neck tucked into the waistcoat, a sort of purplish jacket over him unbuttoned and ill measured as the cuffs of his shirts could be seen beyond his sleeves, a black velvet hat sat upon his dirty blonde hair. In his hand his usual doctor's leather bag filled with various... instruments of torment and betterment.

He saw me and a pleasant smile came across his lips, "Miss Y/l/n, Dr Dawkins." he smiled,

"Yes, I was expecting you doctor," I blushed, "Do come in," I quickly opened my door to usher him in as fast as I could, the moment he was inside I shut the door and locked it tight in the hope no one saw him arrive, as who knows the kind of questions the town would mutter if people saw him come to my home.

"Thank you, no Isa today?" he asked as he made his way to the living room, and set his bag on the table,

"No, no I gave her the evening off," I answered as I followed him in,

"Aww, what a lovely kind mistress you must be to her," he smiled, "I do apologize of course for you having to wait so long for this appointment, I have been strangely very busy of late."

"That's alright," I nodded, "Can't be helped,"

"No, of course, you're more than welcome to have Dr Sneed or Prof do your appointments if it's urgent." He explained,

"That's quite alright Dr Dawkins, you're worth the wait."

"You're too kind," he smiled, as he slipped off his jacket and hat and sat them on the chair, as he often did, "You're my last one for the day, so we can take as long as we need,"

"That's good then,"

"Aww, no cakes today?" He fake pouted, "You almost always make cakes for me, I was looking forward to them."

"I can make you some if you'd -"

"It's alright, I'm only kidding," he playfully chuckled, "Now, am I to take it this is regarding the muscle pain?"

"Yes Doctor," I nodded,

"Right, still all over?"

"Mhm," I nodded,

"Alright, no problem..." he explained as he made a note on his paperwork, "This is getting to be quite often now."

"it is,"

"You taking hot baths like I asked?"

"Yes Doctor, Daily."

"Daily! Ohh my, you really are bad." He said, "You still taking the medication I prescribed?"

"Yes, Doctor,"

"Good," He nodded, "Alright," He said as he stood up and stiffened himself he adjusted his waistcoat with a tug on its bottom hem, "I'll give you a look over, see what I can do about your muscles see if anything sticks out at me and then we'll go from there alright?"

"Yes, doctor." I nodded excitedly moved close to the fire and held my hands as I tried not to bite my lip or squeal with excitement,

He chuckled a moment as he came over and pushed up his sleeves to his elbows, "See that's why you're one of my favourites," He smiled, and I tried not to explode at the thought I was one of his favourites, "such an accommodating little thing," He cooed,

"Ohh you don't know how accommodating I'll be for you doctor..." I muttered,

"What?"

"What?!" I gulped as I realised I said that out loud, "I uhh I said of course I'll be accommodating for you doctor."

"Good," he chuckled, "Now turn around for me," he asked, I nodded and turned to face the fire, "May I touch your neck?" He asked in an almost hushed tone,

"Yes doctor Dawkins," I blushed,

"Just relax for me," he cooed as his hands graced the skin of my neck, he was so gentle and slow as if touching a wounded frightened cat, his fingers traced the muscles of my neck stroking them and lightly massaging them, "May I touch your shoulders?"

"Yes doctor Dawkins," I nodded as I bit my lip unable to prevent myself from looking in the mirror above my fireplace to watch his hands move over me, his hands callus and his nails short, a strength to his thin hands, his hands familiar enough with my body to know where he was going, for a second out eyes met in the reflection of the mirror as he glanced up into the mirror to see my face and we caught eyes, Immediately I put my eyes back to the fire's flame, even if I saw a smirk curl up on the corner of his lips.

"Are you feeling some tightness?" he asked,

"Yes, Doctor,"

"Any stiffness?"

"Yes, doctor,"

"Any, tingling perhaps?"

"Yes. Very much." I nodded biting my lip harder

"I see," He nodded, and his hands moved to my back slightly he massaged the top of my back which was enough for me to whine,

"Uhh!"

"It's alright I'll be gentle," He reassured,

I did my best to remain composed as his hands travelled the length and breadth of my body almost every muscle felt his hands touch, his sweet massage enough to force noises from me not unlike what the bedpost had forced from me but these were far quieter as I attempted to conceal them or at least play them off as pain rather the of pleasure. I did my best to relax and enjoy every moment of it but my legs were so weak and between my legs so desperate.

"Good, that's perfect." He nodded, "Now, open your mouth for me."

I didn't hesitate to open my mouth as wide as I could and even stick out my tongue with my eyes closed, He came to face me and investigated a moment

"Not painful is it?" he asked, I shook my head, "Good. That's very good." he nodded, "In." he demanded, so I did as he asked and moved my tongue back into my mouth and his hand came to my chin and shut my mouth for me, before he headed back to his bag, "Your pain doesn't seem to be getting any worse, which is good, I am a little concerned about your legs the muscles there seem to be a little more finicky but I think I'll up your medication and we'll see how you go," he explained as he made notes on his paperwork,

Immediately I felt disappointed that this was all that was to happen, I mean it's all that ever happened but I had grown so sick of this waiting, that my impatience toppled over, this wasn't fair, he couldn't just leave, he can't be serious that he can't see what he's doing to me, he surely cannot be so cruel to just leave me like this.

"Is that all?" I asked as I turned to him,

He stopped a moment and looked up at me with a questionable look,

"I mean we've just been trying medications, and treatments over and over and nothing seems to be working, and I'm having to wait so long to even see you, surely there must be more you can do Doctor."

"It's muscle pain unless there's something you're not telling me there's not all that much I can do for you miss Y/l/n," he chuckled,

"Don't you have any theories at least as to the course of my pain?"

For a moment there was silence between us, "I have a theory yes."

"Which is?"

"I'm almost convinced you have a very common condition, often seen in women your age." he explained, "Not much I can say about it, or do about it I'm afraid,"

"And what is it?" I asked,

He chuckled, "In my professional opinion. There's nothing wrong with you." he said, and I froze up, "There's nothing wrong with you, no muscle pain, nothing of the sort, you're faking it. Have been for weeks."

"I uhh I see how uhh how did you reach such a conclusion?"

"Becuase I've been giving you sugar pills." He said and my jaw almost dropped, "You've had no medication for two months, plus the fact that your... whines of 'pain' don't match up to what my hands are doing, if you had muscle pain me rubbing on your back should have made you scream, not moan. The fact you are even able to get dressed into that dress let alone go out and wander about town tells me you're fine." He explained, "But... you do have a condition."

"I do?"

"Yes, it's called Woman in Need of a Man syndrome." He explained, "You're not hurt, you're horny."

"I uhhhh I see." I blushed, "And in uhh your professional opinion what should I do to cure this need of a man?"

"Get married." He answered,

"I see, yes I absolutely must but uhh... until then," I spoke up, "Is there anything you could do for me doctor Dawkins,"

"Really?" He smirked,

"I'm sure you know just the things to fix me, make me all better."

He chuckled, "You seem very confident in me. I do appreciate that Miss Y/l/n. I suppose I could provide... something for you if that would help?"

"Yes!" I yelped, but clamped my hand over my mouth given I didn't expect to be so loud,

he chuckled again, "My, my, you seem so very energetic all of a sudden." He smirked, "You really are in need of a man." He smirked as he moved closer

"Mhm," I whined, "I am very very badly in need of a man, I am in utter desperation for a man, in anguish, misery, need, deprivation for a man such as yourself doctor dawkins."

"Never seen a lady with quite such enthusiasm for treatment?" He smirked as he rested his hand on his hip,

"Well, I uhh I wanna get better."

"And would I be correct in assuming that you'd be willing to do... anything to get better?"

"Anything you ask of me doctor Dawkins," I gasped,

"Anything?" He smirked, "and what if I... had some particular tastes that would, require very specific things from you miss Y/l/n?" he asked in hushed tone inches from my face,

"I would have no objections."

"Well then, are you... sure this is what you want?"

"Positive."

"and are you willing to keep our, treatment between us and your bedpost?"

"Well, I uhh my bedpost may get jealous,"

"Might it?" he smirked, "Oh... Humm, I take it your bedpost is how you've been curving your hormones before?"

"Yes doctor, and my baths you so sweetly percribed."

"I thought as much," He nodded, "Well then, just between us then?"

"Yes, doctor."

"Good, now... I must warn you, care for this condition can be a little, Explict I'd need to be looking at you very closely for a good while, I'd need to be touching places I would not normal, I'd need to be very... particular. But of course, you do understand this is purely for medical reasons?"

"yes, medical reasons of course."

"So, you won't get me in trouble?"

"Of course not doctor Dawkins."

"Good girl," He cooed and immediately I wanted to faint, "Now you may be a little anxious or embarrassed but I promise I'm going to take good care of you, just try and remain nice and calm for me Y/n."

"I'll do my best Doctor." I nodded,

"Now turn around and we'll begin your treatment," He smirked,

I did as he asked without question to stand face the mirror again but this time I couldn't dare look away from the reflection, as he came up behind me moved his lips to my ear, "May I touch you now?"

"uhhh... Yes Doctor Dawkins," I moaned,

he chuckled biting his bottom lip his brown eyes seemed to smile with the rest of his face in a wicked sly way, as he kissed my ears tragus before he spoke "Good girl, hold still for me," He demanded in a sly whisper as he nibbled on my ear lobe, his hands moved to my hips his thumbs rubbed on them hard which only caused his sly laughs to deepen, as his arms slowly enfolded my body his hands now on the opposite hip crossed over my stomach, "You're excitement is quite noticeable Y/n."

"Yes I uhhh I uhhh yes I'm sure my excitement is uhh noticeable to you Dr Dawkins, I uhh I'm sorry I'll do my best to be still," I answered as I stuttered like crazy,

"I never said it was a problem," he smirked, "You can be excited, you just have to be a good girl for me."

"I'll be good, I'll be very very good." I nodded,

He smirked his hands moved up my waist before he pulled back his eyes staring down at my ass as he held my waist, slowly his hands moved to stroke my curves his middle finger stroked under the curve of my ass slightly picked up the weight of me in his hand and let it drop again caused it to jiggle, which caused him even more amusement, before he slapped me firmly with an open hand,

"ohh!" I gulped,

"Yes?"

"Nothing, nothing." I blushed,

"That wasn't a protest from my good little girl was it?"

"No! no never. Doctor."

"Good," He nodded, his hands snaked around my body caressed under my breasts his fingers traced the bones of my corset, "take off your dress."

"I-"

"I need to examine you, take off your dress." He demanded and snapped the button off that held the back of my dress which left me with no choice but to remove it,

"Yes doctor," I blushed getting my dress off me as quickly as I could leaving me in my corset and underdress, he chuckled slyly and ran his hands over my corset,

He laughed wickedly as his hands stroked my shoulders before they dove into my corset and cupped my breasts in his hands "Pretty little thing aren't you?"

By now I was a moaning mess, I didn't care what noises came out of me my heart racing fast, and my whole body throbbed with desire as he squeezed and fondled my bare skin pressing his body against my own, one hand left my breast to sit on my hip pulled my hips against his own and then stroking my thigh which only made me moan more,

"Humm Calm down Y/n." He smirked,

"I- I can't Doctor-"

"Relax for me... that's a good girl." He cooed his hand moving higher up my thigh and softly massaged my thigh and my breast in his hand,

"Please Doctor Dawkins,"

"Please what Y/n?" He whispered in my ear,

"Please... Touch me." I begged,

"I am touching you Y/n," he smirked, "Where would you like me to touch you?" He whispered,

I didn't even hesitate I grabbed the wrist of his hand that had been on my thigh and moved it over to between my legs,

"Oh." he smiled slyly, "Are you sure this is where you want me to touch you?" his fingers began to stroke my mound through my underdress,

"Yes! Yes! Please! Please, Doctor Dawkins...." I begged,

"Humm... You really are horny aren't you?" he bit my ear lobe a little hard as his thumb rubbed my mound through my underdress his other hand now shifted the weight of my breast in his hand as he plaid with it, "You want me to touch you, don't you?" he smirked,

"uuuhhhh! yes! yes Please Doctor Daskins! Please! I'm begging you."

"Begging me are you?"

"Yes! Yes! I'm begging you please," I whined and tried to push his hand where I so needed him but he slapped my hand away,

"Beg for me." he whispered, "Beg for my hand Y/n."

"uhhh! Please, please, please, please, please, please! Please, Dr Dawkins! Please! I'll do anything! Anything! I'll do anything you ask! Anything you want! I'll be yours just touch me please!"

"Anything? Really?"

"Anything! Anything! Anything!"

"Anything?" He asked milking the word for all it was worth,

"Anything! I'll be yours! I'll be your toy! Your pet! I'll let you do anything you want just please let me have your hand!"

"what a good girl," he cooed, "Anything at all? Even if that included-"

"Anything!" I screamed, "Physical, emotional, intimate, anything you desire of me, Dr Dawkins."

He chuckled again "You are very willing." he smirked, "What a poor desperate little girl,"

"yes! Just please please im- I'm-" I moaned "Uhh Dr Dawkins, please! I'm desperate! I'll do anything, anything you ask just please!"

"Tell me how bad you want me," he growled,

"Uhhh! Dr Dawkins!" I moaned, "I want you! I need you! I worship you! I'm begging you for your mercy please!"

"Worship me?"

"Yes! Yes! I worship you, I beg for your mercy, I adore you so utterly, I worship your voice, your body, your very existence, I will be your adoring worshiper, your slave if you so asked it of me If my god would only give me what I do desire."

He moaned into my ear as he heard me say that, "Ummm, How the fuck have you never got a man when you talk like that..." He groaned, "Uhh Be a good girl, and worship your god. Show me how desperate you are, price to me how willing you are to serve me."

I didn't hesitate Immediately I turned to face him and moved to my knees on the cold wooden floor the moment I did he gave me a look questionable but not like he was going to stop me, I set my hands on the floor between my knees and looked up at him with a wide innocent smile, "ohh my sweet sweet doctor, please let me worship all of you doctor," I pleaded, "let me prove to my doctor what I will do for him"

"Then prove it. Prove to me what a good girl you can be." He smiled as he stroked my jaw, "Show your god how you worship him."

I blushed but began to kiss the top hem of his trousers felt the soft cotton against my lips, felt his breaths through his stomach, I tugged a little on his trousers and felt the resistance of his suspenders, so I undid them which forced a moan from his lips, I tugged them apart and tugged down his white underwear and I was taken back immediately as the size of him, certainly more then I expected and now it was truly revealed to me that he too was desperate as he couldn't conceal just how hard his cock stood, his stiff his shaft staid, how he throbbed with the desire for attention, "ohh my sweet sweet doctor, please let me worship all of you doctor" I plead "May I-" I began

"Yes." He gasped, not even waiting for me to finish the question, I blushed to think he was so needy for me and I pouted my lips and blew air across his shaft, "Uhh! don't tease your god Y/n."

"Ohh? Will I face your wrath?"

"You might," he smirked,

I smiled and gently began to press soft kisses to his shaft, I began at his hilt and slowly peppered kisses to his head and back again, he began to gasp more often and squeeze his eyes tight, "Ohh Dr Dawkins, Dr Dawkins," I muttered between kisses, which only seemed to tease him more, but I couldn't wait any longer I sat back a moment and opened my mouth as wide as I could stick out my tongue out for him before I took his cock into my mouth completely and gently began to suck,

"Ughhhhh!" He groaned his hands came to my head and held my hair, I did my best to insure I pleased him sucking him slowly, moved my head back and forth down the length of his shaft, and licked my tongue around his head, I was so fueled by his moans and groans above me being very vocal for me, his head thrown back and his jaw hung low, "Ughhhh! Uuuhhh! fuck! uuuummm! Yes Yes! Like that! Uhhhhhh!" he moaned, I often opened back allowed my sweet sounds to be heard my little moans and whines vibrated his cock which only seemed to make him more desperate, "Ughhh! Good girl, such a good good girl," he cooed and stroked my jaw he glanced down at me so I made the most innocent of eye contact which drove him insane, "Ughhhhh! fuck! Ummm you look so good when you worship me Y/n!" he groans "Uhghhhh- Please please-" He begged and I felt so so lovely to hear him plead for me so I continued I made sure I didn't change anything, "Just... keep... Go- UGhhhhhhhh!" He grabbed my hair hard and dug his fingers into my head as his hips jolted himself to deep throat me almost made me gag but I stayed still as the warm slightly salty liquid sputtered around my mouth, he quickly pulled out of my mouth and slowly began to soften the moment he released, he gasped, and groaned between his breaths as he tried to calm himself down after such a rush of pleasure, but with a satisfied smile,

I giggled a little while still sat on my knees my hands between my knees, in my white underdress and cream corset, my mouth hung open wide enough he could see but not wide enough to lose anything that I held in my mouth, I slightly stuck out my tongue as I had earlier and allowed him to see the mess he had made of my mouth, made sure to make the most seductive eye contact I could,

"Good girl," he smirked, "what are you gonna do with all that then?"

I smiled and licked my lips before I swirled my tongue around my teeth and the sides of my mouth before finally shut my mouth and swallowed and I made sure I made a loud enough gulp that he heard me.

"A very good girl indeed," He cooed and stroked my jaw again, "I'm surprised just how eager you are to worship me Y/n."

"My doctor wants more?" I cooed as I opened my mouth again,

"More?" He asked a little breathy,

"Again?"

"humm again? You want to do it again?"

"I want to prove how much I need my doctor and how much I adore him, I will do anything you ask, if you wish for me to do it again I will do it as many times as you ask"

"Well, well, what a very good girl to praise me so." he smirked, "but I think I want to reward my sweet girl for all her worship would you like that?"

"Yes, doctor Dawkins."

"On the chair, with your legs open. Now." He demanded as he pulled on my hair to force me in the direction of the chair,

"Ughhh Yes! Doctor Dawkins!"

#thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #tbs smut #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomas sangster #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger #the artful dodger

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halcyonnhood · 5 months ago

Text

We Should Stick Together

Summary:

Kate spins around in her chair, meeting his mischievous expression with her own confusion, “Why are you still here?”

“For you,” He says. It's said so casually as if she should've known the answer.

Or Kate tries to face the traumas from her past and Javi keeps showing up. She accepts that he might be the missing puzzle piece to her story.

Pairing: Kate Carter/Javier "Javi" Rivera

Word Count: 2.7k

Rating: General

A/N: Just some little pre-canon and pre-slash angst. There will be another part about their hospital stay and injuries and all.

It's a little rushed at the end, but it also feels like a good point if I wanna do anything set after this part.

It's my first Twisters fic so please be kind, I have some ot3 (Kate/tyler/Javi) that i'll be working on soon too!

Cross posted on AO3: Here

“Kate, take me back to the morning after the tornado,”

Kate's eyes flutter back and forth under her shut eyelids. She subconsciously takes a deeper breath in, the feeling of the warm humid air seemingly sticking to her skin. It’s brighter out. The skies aren’t blue, the sun is still rising and there’s slight cloud coverage, nothing dangerous or concerning to be found. It’s just enough to make the environment feel and look hazy. Everywhere she looks is demolished, debris scattered as far as the eye can see. The road she had traveled with Jeb, Abby, and Praveen had been barren, spare a barn and a handful of signs that had been farther away from the underpass. She can’t seem to visualize if this is the same road they had started on or not.

She raises a weak hand up to her pounding head. Her forehead is sticky and warm, her matted hair glued to her skin. When she brings the hand back down to eye level, it’s covered in deep darkened blood. Was it from her? Or was it from Jeb? Or when the sign impacted Abby, did the torrential winds splatter her blood back onto her and Jeb? She wipes it onto her shorts in a panicked huff, ignoring the sharp ache in her thigh. She already made the mistake of looking down into the deep wound when she woke up against the asphalt. She doesn’t know that her stomach can handle that sight again.

“Kate?” A voice calls out to her, “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Kate responds. The voice doesn’t come from her, it feels as if it floats around her.

“What do you see?”

She hears it before her eyes are able to focus on it. The sound of rocks and branches crunching beneath the tires as a car slowly approaches. It feels like all of the adrenaline melts out of her body.

“It’s-It’s a car,”

“Who’s car is it?”

“I’m not sure,” She sounds unsure of herself. When the car parks, blue and red lights flicker on. She sighs in relief, “It’s an officer”

“Is there anyone else with them?”

Kate's deep brown eyes meet a pair of warm hazel eyes.

Kate's eyes fly open and she sits up unsteadily on the cream colored couch. The therapist looks at her with a calm and cool expression, despite her client's alarmed state.

“Kate, remember our deep breathing,” The therapist instructs.

In, in, in, out, out, out. After a few moments, her heart rate settles back into comfortable ranges.

“Kate, it seems as though we've hit a pretty strong mental block. We get through the tornado and the death of your friends, but something in your physical healing period seems to be triggering you. PTSD can be fickle, but I think we can get through this and find the memories,”

At that moment, Kate decides that she doesn't want to find the missing pieces anymore. She knows that's why she started therapy, specifically with this type of therapist. To find the chunk of memories that seemed to be wiped clean off of the slate. She only finds herself angry after each session. She rehashes the events before the tornado, lives through the terror and death over and over, but hardly knows anything about her recovery. This session was the first one that uncovered something new and all she found was hazel eyes.

It was enough. She has enough nightmares without reliving it through the full screen of her brain while awake too.

So, she leaves. She leaves the therapist's office without a word, stops to get coffee at her favorite little shop, and heads to work.

The world keeps spinning.

______________

She lost a shoe. She wore tennis shoes and tied the laces tightly around her ankles like she does for every storm chase. Still, one is missing. It feels silly to notice, especially when her friends were likely eviscerated. But as she steps on branches, glass, metal-it becomes hard to ignore with the stinging pain.

When she hears the car approaching, the

cracks of wood snapping and gravel kicking up, she stares with squinted eyes. She shifts her weight onto her uninjured leg, despite the feeling of rocks and glass shards slicing into the bottom of her foot. A door opens and slams shut, much faster than the second one echoing after it. She blinks in the early morning haze, confused and dazed.

No one approaches her too closely. Feet apart, she meets a pair of misty hazel eyes. They're warm and familiar. The splattered freckles across honey shaded cheeks are a constellation of love.

Javi. Javi is standing right in front of her, unscathed and breathing freely. He's alive. He's safe. Hes alive. The storm didn't take him away from her.

“Javier,” Kate's hoarse voice whispers. Even getting a breath of his name out feels like it takes every last wisp of her energy.

She doesn't miss the strong, stable arms catching her weakening body before everything fades to black.

___________

Kate wakes with a start. She's alone in her own bed, surrounded by the safe beige walls of her apartment and the bustling hum of new york city. Nightmares aren't unusual for her, but she never dreams of the aftermath. She never dreams about Javi unless it's the sound of his floating voice screaming through the CB radio as they abandon the car. The whole dream rubs her in the wrong way and leaves a sour taste in her mouth and a sullen mood in its wake.

She washes the leftover soured fear down with bitter dark cold brew coffee and an exceptionally dry scone at work. It's usually easy to avoid the constant dreams and reminders when she's focused on keeping all of her brain power on the work at hand. She's tracking storms through Indiana and into Ohio, while taking notes about how unusually active their tornado season has been. She clicks her pen in annoyance, unsure if she should issue a warning or hold off.

As new radar scans and developments load onto her screen, her mind circles back to the dream. Lesser so about the dream, but more so the person that appeared in it. Javi. She thinks about him often, she misses him. And when he showed up randomly in the meeting room of the NOAA office a week ago, she felt the world stop turning on its axis. Everything she had run away from five years ago stood right in front of her. She wonders if that's what triggered the dreams. Maybe in the rush of adrenaline and shock, her body confused thoughts of him with actual memories. She thinks that might be the case.

“I would issue a warning for that one,”

There it is again. The feeling of the world screeching to a dead silent halt. Now, Kate wonders if simply thinking about Javi can make him appear out of thin air. Because here he is again, heavy hand on the back of her computer chair and finger wagging obnoxiously at a storm cell on her screen.

“That cell weakened,” Kate says.

“The vertical wind shear says otherwise,” Javi argues. She ignores the huff of a muffled laugh while she issues a warning for the area.

Kate spins around in her chair, meeting his mischievous expression with her own confusion, “Why are you still here?”

“For you,” He says. It's said so casually as if she should've known the answer.

“I told you no,”

“I know that, I actually wanted to apologize for the way I went about asking you to join me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put pressure on you to do something that would hurt you,”

“It's okay. Y’know, it's just a lot and it isn't you, I just-” She trails off. It's so hard to put her thoughts into words.

“I wanted to spend time with you, that's why I stayed. No pressure, no feeling guilty if you reject the offer. I know you left for a reason, I did too. But I want you to know that there's still a line open here,” He explains.

The words tumble out of Kate's mouth like a sigh of relief, “I'd love that,”

“Yeah?”

“You go explore the city. I'll call you when I'm off and we'll go out for dinner,” She grins.

Javi parts with a hug and she feels lighter inside. All of the despair and dread melts from her bones and she floats through the day. The promise to see him at the end of her day seems to bring color back to her lackluster life.

It's brighter with him in it, especially when he's smiling softly at her between clinking wine glasses. She can't tell if the warmth soothing her soul is just the red wine or Javi fixing the cracks within her heart. She'd like to stay believing that it's simply the wine speaking.

The honeyed freckled skin and warm hazel eyes seem to say otherwise.

_____________

Kate invited Javi to sleep on her couch for the rest of his trip. It was the kind thing to do, despite living in one of the largest cities of the country, she still holds onto her southern hospitality. It's worked out well so far, in fact, she's enjoyed it much more than she had expected to.

They camped out in the living room together the first night, surrounded by snacks and his cool military gadgets and data. The warm buzz from the bottles of wine left them talkative and giggly into the wee hours of the morning. They finally fell asleep, legs intertwined and Kate still holding onto one of his text books. She overslept for work, but woke up well rested and nightmare free. She hadn't felt that relaxed in years. It was as if she had finally found a wonder drug to alleviate all of her tight wound terrors.

The restful sleep followed her for the next few nights, even though they had slept in separate rooms and gave each other privacy at night. It was confusing at first, but Kate chalked it up to finally having a familiar safe person near her again. It makes sense that her body would fall out of its constant flight or fight mode.

Tonight is no different. They cook dinner together and binge watch Yellowstone while whispering about nonsensical show theories. They finish the first season before deciding to call it a night and she retreats to her bedroom for some solitude. She falls asleep easily, just like every other night.

Until she's gasping for air and trying to scratch at the hands gripping her shoulders tightly. The wind howling in her ears and the shrill scream piercing her soul comes to a screeching halt. The pressure of the hands anchor her to the bed, just what she needs when she feels as if she's reeling. They bring her back to reality gently.

“Kate,” Javi’s voice comes into focus.

“Javi,” She whispers. She grasps onto his hand softer this time, her thumbs rubbing against his reddened skin. She doesn't miss the way he scans her face with concern, as if he's dealing with something delicate.

“You're okay. You're in your apartment with me. It'll be okay,”

“I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, ”

Javi relaxes against her bed and their hands fall into his lap, “Don't worry about it. Are you okay?”

“I'll be fine,” She murmurs, “Can you just stay here for the rest of the night?”

“Of course I can,”

Javi doesn't push her, doesn't question her. He just sits with her quietly, then falls asleep on top of her bed quilt while running a soothing hand through her hair.

_____________

It's the last day of Javi’s trip. He tells her repeatedly that he would push it off if he could, but with the strength in the storms being projected, he simply couldn't ignore it.

“We should talk about the other night,” Javi says cooly. He's folding his clothes to pack tightly into his suitcase and she's folding a basket of clean laundry. She enjoys having someone to do humdrum tasks with her

“I'm sorry about that. That happens sometimes, it isn't that big of a deal,”

“Kate,” He murmurs, “You were screaming,”

“It was a dream, Javi. That's it,”

His head ducks a bit and he avoids the frantic ‘shut up’ look she's giving him, “You were screaming my name,”

“Javi, drop it. Please,”

“I can't leave you alone like this,” Javi pleads. He silently pleads for her to show that she'll be okay.

“You didn't hesitate last time,” Kate bites back.

She hates the venom that seeps through her mouth with the statement. It's hateful and she knows it. His eyebrows shoot up in confusion and then melting into an expression of hurt is just the nail in the coffin. It looks as if someone stuck a dagger in his chest and twisted it in deep. She looks away from him, tries to focus on folding her shorts, but with blurry eyes she can't seem to get the seams to match correctly.

“Last time!?” Javi exclaims.

“You left me. I lost everyone and you left,” She says weakly.

“Is that the story you tell people?”

“Story? It's what happened! You couldn't handle what happened and ran off to Miami!”

“You're leaving out the week I laid in a hospital bed beside yours. The two and a half weeks following that when I stayed for you and only you,” He sounds gruff when he says it.

It feels like the world crashes and collapses on Kate all over again. It feels like missing pieces click into place when he says that. The dreams, the therapy, the blocking of memories all seem to solve themselves. She sets the pair of shorts down, abandoning all hope on being able to focus enough to fold them. When she looks up, she finds him staring back and there isn't anger or hatred gracing his features. There's nothing but hurt and confusion.

“Kate,”

“I quit therapy recently, because I couldn't get past some forgotten memories. Memories from right after the storm,”

“So, you don't remember…” Javi trails off.

“I was alone for an entire night and in the morning, I remember a police cruiser finding me. You were there, you helped them find me,” Kate explains with a frown.

“I did,” He confirms.

“Everything else is blurry. The only day I remember crystal clear is the day you left,” She ignores the strange sympathetic-pity expression Javi is donning.

“My arm was shattered and I had a concussion. They did surgery and I was hospitalized for a week. I made sure we shared a room the entire time and after that, I stayed with you day and night. I didn't leave until you told me you were going to,” Javi murmurs.

Kate reaches a hand towards him. She relaxes when she feels his warm skin against her own, “I'm sorry I said that,”

“If you forgot the rest, I can understand why it seemed that way for you,” Javi laughs lightly.

She stares at their intertwined fingers for a long time and tries her best to process everything he's told her. She doesn't magically remember everything, but it makes the hazy memories a bit sharper. She squeezes his hand tightly.

“Stay,” Kate says. She notices the way his thumb freezes while circling her skin.

“You know I can't,” Javi tells her, “But you can come with me and I'll tell you everything,”

“I hate that you always get what you want” Kate rolls her eyes.

Kate follows him. She ends up back in Oklahoma in a fancy white storm par truck with her hand interlaced with Javi’s as they speed through the fields. He tells her everything about her recovery, the rough parts, the good parts…The things that caused her to repress it all.

The tornados tore her life to shreds, but they managed to repair her piece by piece as well. She likes to think that this is the reason they say rainbows tend to follow after storms. They have to survive the throws of the weather to get to something beautiful.

Kate thinks that chasing with Javi might just be the rainbow part for her story.

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