#I appreciate when games go out of their way to tell me The Point of No Return is up ahead

[setmeatopthepyre]

fuck it friday

tagged by @trombonechurchill and @ambernotember <3 have some antarct-fic! I shared an earlier version of the first part of this scene before (for the wip titles game), but here's an improved and extended version.

-

“He dated Abby,” Tommy admits with a groan.

Lucy stares at him. “Who?”

Tommy frowns. “Abby.”

“Yeah, Tommy, contrary to popular belief, you’re not exactly an open book," she deadpans. "Abby who?”

“Abby Clark,” he says. “My fiancée.”

“Your what? What the fuck?”

“Ex-fiancée,” he clarifies, not really able to hold back his glare in response to her surprise.

“I reiterate: what the fuck.” She folds her arms. “Explain.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I was engaged. To Abby.”

“Yeah, you big lug, I got that part. Context. Explain.”

Tommy lets out a long exhale, turning his glass back and forth on the table, noting vaguely how the stem of the glass looks way too dainty in his big, coarse hands. He lets go, suddenly afraid of accidentally snapping the thing in two, and settles his hands in his lap.

“We were engaged for two years before I broke it off.”

He's expecting a quip, or an eye roll, but that's not what he gets and maybe that's not fair, either. He knows Lucy better than that. Knows she doesn't lie about what she thinks and that she's serious when she has to be. And she's serious, now. Her eyebrows drawn towards each other in a frown, head tilted slightly, dark eyes studying him over her own drink, waiting for him to continue.

So he does.

“When I say broke it off, I mean I told her I was gay and then I dumped her. Not necessarily in that order.” His throat feels rough, suddenly, so he downs the rest of his drink – avoiding the far-too-dainty stem – and sets the glass back down with a clink. “Then Abby, apparently, rebounded with...” he waves his hand.

“Buck?” Lucy hazards a guess.

Tommy nods. “He's the himbo,” he huffs, and Lucy mutters something that sounds suspiciously like and he's not the only one, but she doesn't repeat herself when he narrows his eyes at her and he... appreciates that. Lucy looks out for him.

“You look out for me,” he tells her.

“You're drunk.”

Lucy says it as if it's a counter argument. Normally he'd take some time to point out to her that it isn't, except that he can't forget they were talking about Evan, and wallowing over Evan takes precedence. Especially when Tommy's... Fine. Yes. Tommy's a little drunk.

“Hmm-hm.” He hums, twirls the stirrer around in his glass. Stupid, dainty glass. “He said their relationship was transformative.”

Lucy's eyebrows tick upwards. “Okay?”

“And then he said our relationship was transformative.”

Lucy's face does something complicated. It's subtle, because Lucy isn't usually particularly expressive, but Tommy knows Lucy and he knows she's trying really, really hard to school her features into something supportive and appropriately concerned. It's nice, that she cares enough to do that. Lucy is so nice to him. He should be nicer to her.

“So,” Lucy says, her voice doing something he thinks might be trying for polite curiosity. “How, uh. How does that make you feel?”

He snorts. “Jesus, Donato, you're bad at this.”

-

no pressure tags for @sugarpenchant @geddyqueer @beanarie @agentpeggycartering @screamlet @rcmclachlan @peppermintquartz

[liquorflower]

𝐥’𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐫𝐞 — 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢

summary: the job needs to be done, the important thing right now is finishing him, but, what can you do when he’s the one who’s going to make you finish, but in the other way?

wc: 2.2k

cw: mentions of acts of terr0r1sm, edging, manhandling, creampie, reference to le charme discret de la bourgeoisie and gunplay (not in the sex) if u squint, age gap kento’s in his late 30’s and reader in early 20’s)

a/n: well, i hope you enjoy. likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated thank you

it was you, again. kento wonders if you’re not tired of making this thing over and over, because your actions just demonstrate you’re not capable of killing even a miserable cockroach. all those failed attempts at homemade bombs and now, having the audacity to enter his consulate were the straw that broke the camel’s back. first, strange events that made it impossible to have dinner with their peers and now this.

he had to teach you a lesson didn’t he?

and gazing how your hands tremble, he knew by other hand about how other revolutionaries didn’t hesitate to shoot at their oppressors. but your heart is racing, increasing euphoria you can’t even explain yourself and you don’t seem capable of pulling the trigger.

but he can play that same game.

there’s gun under the pillow of his refined bed, in his opulent room, scenario that holds the future crime scene of his murder if he doesn't play his cards right. strangely enough, he’s not scared at all, could be your ragged clothes (that’s the respective way to call that hippie fashion) or the beauty you possess that makes him have some sort of compassion for you.

“does this have any use, dear?” he wanders through the room, trying to negotiate, persuade. as he does this, he diligently gets near the bed, having a seat. “how many times are we going to get through this, hmm?” his hand slides prudent and deliberately, as his gaze remains pierced in your eyes. they seem determined, but he can tell it’s just a stupid facade.

the revolver points at the direction he’s moving. you don’t say a word and only stare at him. you are pondering on why he can be so calm in this situation, you point a goddamn weapon and you can pull the trigger at any moment, and the only thing that will remain of him will be his brain scattered all over the place. but if you were concentrated, instead of paying attention to the turmoil of your thoughts, if you had payed attention you would’ve anticipated that he was going to pull out another pistol and also point at you.

shit, it was that obvious.

“i told you, sweetie. think about it. you’re still young,” he looks you over from head to toe, plotting a machiavellian plan, “beautiful…

you gulp.“don’t bullshit me.”

“hey, let’s take it easy. i’ll give you a chance. you can give me the gun, i’ll let you go and we’ll pretend none of this happened and we can go on with our lives as always… have you ever thought to go to college? bet you do. just leave this silly idealization of this perfect world. i get it, i once was young, but you can make the difference in other ways.” he persuades. both remaining stiff. the tension is close to the surface.

something convincing in his words resonates within your brain. for example, when was the last time you’ve eaten a decent meal or have slept in a comfy bed? all you can think about are the walls of the family stained in filth and shit. and everyone on top of each other for warmth — it wasn’t a place you could call home.

you don’t know what happened, but the next thing you know, is that you hand is giving him the gun, trembling and looking at the hollow and manly cheeks of kento. he’s wearing a robe. a slight blush heats your cheeks when you realize that.

“good choice.” he slightly bows his head, a cocky smile forms in his lips. “now, be a good girl and wait for me. i’ll…” he examines the weapon,“keep this thing downstairs. we don’t want some… collateral damages, do we?” and just like that, he leaves the room, not even bothering to see if you’d be capable of doing something else.

how did you falter like this? shit, shit, what you’re supposed to do now? now that you were so closer…

completely shocked, you take a seat on the bed. pleasant to lay your ass in, you think. as you grasp the velvety sheets, your palm notices a a cold surface.

he left the other gun neatly placed in the bed. a colt junior, smoothly laying there. not a big one, it is barely 5 inches long but perfect for self defense. is he stupid? why did he leave it there? your heart races, what it seemed to be like a lost opportunity, suddenly turns out again into a new hope.

so, you grab the gun and put it in your purse, thinking it is the perfect chance to shoot him dead.

sadly, destiny decided that it wasn't bound to be that way.

tiptoeing, trying to not make any noise, you manage to reach the door frame, your hand holds the weapon steady. even in this instant, you steered to be trapped again in your own net.

an enormous hand covers your mouth and the gasp gets encapsulated inside your throat.

was adrenaline, euphoria, rush, but you straightaway pulled out the gun out of your bag and pulled the trigger.

but nothing happened.

“bet you thought i left that thing there by mere coincidence, didn’t you?” he chuckled as he took you back to his room. you try to fight, make some loud noises behind that palm.

you are becoming quite annoying, and the next thing you know is that he put the barrel in your face and now that death seems closer than ever, you sob and warm tears run down your face.

the stupid bag.

“shit, how could i…” he mutters, managing to take your bag and continue pointing the revolver at you.

he empties it and only old papers and coins are inside — nothing that might seem like a threat . he just worried for nothing.

for you, now everything is lost. you’re going to end up dead and possible that not even the leader could notice that.

but he just doesn’t stop there.

“you must be hiding something.” he tightens the pressure of the barrel on your face and throws away the bag.

his other hand wanders down your waistline, palpating every part. unconsciously, you squeeze your thighs and a shiver runs down your spine, more when his hand is touching up each part of you until he reaches one of your breasts. he clasps it between his fingers.

you’re not wearing a single thing. despite an overwhelming urge to do something else, he keeps his examination, fingers going down, probing, checking every inch of skin to find any sort of irregularity — some other surface different from human soft skin.

however, he is doing something wrong and doesn’t trust the fabric of your clothes. sometimes other sorts of artefacts can be hidden from god knows where and can go unnoticed, and these matters, those little slips can affect and build tension with other countries, hence, need to be taken seriously.

with that in mind, his hand explored the flesh of your thighs, going under your clothes. you remain paralyzed. you’re not sure whether it’s because you are either in a panic or you know that trying to make something, even shouting, will cost you a bullet in the head. both are valid reasons to avoid causing more problems and gulping, you just let them explore all of your body.

the hem of your panties is the only thing that he can detect and decides to go even further. he examines, the palms of his hand are tender, soft — of course, he has never gotten to experience any kind of struggle or what hard work meant. despite acknowledging this, you shudder at the touch of his grip, almost wanting him to do something else.

and surely he does.

having notice that you are numb, blunted, he puts the weapon in one of the pockets of his robe and now the other hand joins to this inspection. a heat boils between your legs when his arms pull up your dress now exposing all of your body. hardened nipples and goosebumps are the new texture his palms grasp.

“ngh…” you sob

“calm down, sweetheart. I just need to know if you’re not hiding something else.” his digits go down, painfully slow, and with his tips, pulls down your panties. cheeks are flushed and you can’t help but feel the need of him wanting more of you.

“check all you want.” you’re voice whispered vaguely. now your will is completely broken. you can’t believe you’re betraying all you thought was for a greater good just to see how far he can go.

he throws you into bed. panties are stretched between your legs and he grabs you by the hips, just to have a clear view of your pussy. you bite your lip. scanning him, you can pay close attention to his imposing figure, thinking if this was worth it.

he grabs your wrists, making sure you’re not trying something, even though you have a main idea of what that might result. with that in mind, you bury your face in the soft mattress, not sure if he saw you biting your lip.

he rises up your trembling legs and grabs the cheek of your ass to open up and have a clear view of your cunt. you gulp, your pussy clenches and your clit pulsates. you let out a whimper, and just hearing that sound of yours, makes his cock twitch.

it is erotic see how it was only necessary to untie the knot of the robe to see that all this time he was naked, and now, pondering if all the time his cock was erected while he wandered every part of your body, makes the situation even more sultry.

“just see how slutty you are, huh? taking my cock that you’re not able to shoot that damn gun?” damn. when he slides in, you notice how wet you were and open your eyes big, not expecting to be that fast.

and you need to have in mind he just buried half of his shaft inside you. and he just leaves it there, because he takes his time to look at your body all placed in his bed, with your fingers latching onto the sheets.

“it hurts…” you whimper.

“you can can handle it, whore.” a shiver runs down your spine. you could’ve imagined at one point you would end up insulting at each other, but not like this, with your legs sprawled out and having a part of his cock fluttering and trapped tight within your walls.

“please… how can this not hurt anymore?” you beg, your drenched juices make him easier to slide even deeper, but now, hearing you whimper makes him wonder how sensitive you really are, that you are already falling apart with just a part of his length.

“well,” he moves slightly, and your eyes open wide again.

“fu-u-ck…” you pant and gulp.

“tsch, language.” the more words he says, the more he dives, open wide, tearing you. fucking feels good but pleasure has his price and though it brings a delightful pain, you can’t stand it, he needs to move or something… or else, you’ll fall apart.

“mmm, god it hurts, please,” you mewl, and best thing that comes to your mind, is to stroll your hips, to see if it can hit your sweet spot. “i want you to fuck me so badly, please… please…”

he lets out a malicious huff, and, without warning, he clasps errands of your hair and tightens his grip. it goes deeper and you whine. his hips start to collide with your ass. soft movements, the ones that are anticipating that he’s going to fasten his pace.

you breath heavily, your sloppy cunt opens up with every single thrust. “fuck, you’re taking it soo well.” he groans through his teeth,“bet you never thought we’re going to end up like this? you want me so bad, don’t you?” with every dirty assumption, you can’t help but moan.

he violently presses your head against the mattress and his cock delves in places you never thought it felt so good. the sticky sounds he makes each time he stretches your pussy is the only symphony that could be heard in the room.

“it feels good, isn’t it?” he teases between chattered teeth. his hips make obscene clap sounds.

“yes, yes…” your voice reverberates.

he pulls you up with the grip of your hair and with his hand, he grabs your neck and keeps now your neck is his grip to shoving his cock, almost disappearimg inside your clammy and loosen walls. his tip it’s circling around your depths jabbing with no mercy. he bites your cheek and every friction makes you loose your mind. “mhhh, i can’t take it anymore.” your back arches because you have already cum and your body twitches against his body.

“shhh, we’re not done yet.” it is painfully delicious how he feels your insides twitching around him and he fastens his movements.

“it feels so good…” the other orgasm made your sweet spot to become more sensitive and your pretty eyes flutter with every jab. your legs are shaking, you would like to close them right now, but most probably is that he won’t let you do it.

“shit…” he throws you back at the bed again, and still thrusting you faster, his body falls trembles but he manages to keep a normal pace. thick and warm ropes of his cum make your pussy palpitate and shake, cummining for the second time.

all of that experience makes you think seriously to phone your mom and tell her college was a good idea after all.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: 5 Times Marshall Made You Jealous (+1 Time You Made Him Jealous)

1. The Time with the Interviewer

Marshall had always been charming in interviews, but this one? This one was testing your patience.

The interviewer—a stunning woman with legs for days—was laughing a little too hard at his jokes, touching his arm a little too often. And Marshall? He wasn’t exactly pushing her away.

You sat off to the side, arms crossed, tapping your foot. When he finally wrapped up and walked over, grinning like he hadn’t just been flirting on live TV, you gave him a pointed look.

“What?” he asked, smirking.

You rolled your eyes. “Nothing.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist. “You jealous?”

“No,” you lied.

“You so are,” he teased, kissing your temple. And, damn it, you let him win.

2. The Time He Took a Fan Pic a Little Too Close

You loved how much he appreciated his fans. But when a gorgeous woman wrapped her arms around him, leaning into him like she belonged there while he smiled like he wasn’t even thinking about it? Yeah, that stung a little.

The worst part? You saw the picture on Twitter before he even mentioned it.

“So, anything you wanna tell me?” you asked later, holding up your phone.

He glanced at the screen, then at you, before sighing. “It was just a picture.”

“She was all over you, Marshall.”

He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you. “I didn’t even notice. The only person I care about is you.”

Damn it. He always knew exactly what to say.

3. The Time with Rihanna

You trusted Marshall. You did. But watching him perform with Rihanna? Watching them vibe on stage, their chemistry so effortless? That messed with your head a little.

You didn’t say anything at first. But later that night, he caught you staring at your drink, jaw tight.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

He raised a brow. “This isn’t about the performance, is it?”

You scoffed. “No.”

He grinned. “You sure?”

“…Shut up.”

Marshall just laughed, pulling you into him. “You’re the only one I want, you know that?”

You did. But it still felt good to hear.

4. The Time His Ex Called

Marshall rarely talked about his exes, which was fine by you. But when one of them called out of nowhere, your stomach twisted.

He answered, his voice neutral, but you couldn’t help but listen in. She was laughing, reminiscing, and while he wasn’t exactly feeding into it, he wasn’t shutting it down either.

When he hung up, you raised an eyebrow. “So, we’re taking calls from exes now?”

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “It was nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing.”

He stepped closer, tilting your chin up. “You seriously think I’d ever go back to that?”

You sighed. “No.”

“Then c’mere,��� he murmured, pulling you into a slow, lingering kiss.

Fine. You’d let it slide. This time.

5. The Time He Got a Little Too Cozy with a Music Video Model

Marshall had warned you about the video shoot. Said it was all acting, that you had nothing to worry about. But watching him with his hands on some model’s waist, his lips way too close to hers? Yeah, that was pushing it.

You didn’t say anything at first. You just went quiet.

He noticed.

“You mad?” he asked later, sliding onto the couch beside you.

“No.”

“Liar.”

You shot him a glare. “I know it’s just work, but did you have to look at her like that?”

He smirked. “What, like this?” He gave you the same sultry look from the video, and you groaned, shoving his face away.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he said, kissing your cheek. “C’mon, baby. You know it’s only you.”

Damn it. He was way too good at this.

+1. The Time You Made Him Jealous

It happened completely by accident.

You were out with some mutual friends, and one of the guys—a friend of a friend—was making you laugh. You weren’t even flirting, but Marshall? He was glowering from across the room, his jaw tight, his grip on his drink almost painful.

When you caught his stare, you smirked.

He narrowed his eyes. Two could play this game.

Later, as soon as you were alone, he caged you against the wall, his hands gripping your waist. “You think that’s funny?”

You bit your lip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His eyes darkened. “Oh, you know.”

Then he kissed you—hard, possessive, like he had something to prove.

Not that you were complaining.

[rainbow-rey]

Shameless - chap. 1

Sukuna x Reader - MDNI!!

Summary: You didn't expect to end up under that guy you met on your weekend getaway, but you're glad you did.

Tags: reader-insert, pov second person, p in v, creamp/e, size k/nk, c/nnilingus

Posted on ao3 as a longfic

It’s at a hockey game that you first meet Sukuna Ryoumen. 

Minnesota Wild versus Seattle Kraken. You’re a Seattle fan through and through, and you were lucky enough to be visiting your friend in the East the very weekend your favourite team was playing there. You bought tickets as soon as you realized the dates lined up. 

Fast forward two weeks, and here you are. You’re donning your navy blue jersey, the one you got at your first Seattle game. Your friends, Shoko and Utahime, are getting seated to your left. 

On your right is an adorable pink-haired little kid, probably around six or seven. He turns to say something to the guy next to him—possibly the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

He’s big. Like, at least twice your size, if not triple. His arms are crossed, and the flexed muscles show through his sweater—a deep green one. It matches the Minnesota hat he wears on top of his hair, the same shade of pink as the kid’s. He’s got interesting tattoos on his face. 

Despite him being the enemy, you can’t stop your eyes from dragging up and down his body. He looks like he’s never smiled a day in his life, but when the kid taps his shoulder to talk to him, his face lights up. He answers with enthusiasm, and says something to make the little boy start giggling. Hot and good with kids? They don’t make them like this anymore. 

You might be drooling, but luckily you’re saved when Shoko nudges you to wake you from your trance. “Whoa, dude. You were totally staring at that guy.”

“I was justified, though. Look at him!” You discreetly side-eye the mysterious man to your right. “Hot hockey dad? Sign me up!”

“He’s a Minnesota fan. Might as well give up now. What’re you gonna do when you drive back on Monday?” Shoko has a good point—but what’s the harm in a little hallway crush?

“He also might be married, if he’s got a kid,” says Utahime, taking a bite out of a comically large pretzel.

“I’ll check for a wedding band. D’you think I could find a way to talk to him?” You look over to see the man tickle the boy, making him erupt into contagious little-kid giggles. 

Shoko sighs. “You’re something special, man. No, I don’t know how you’re gonna seduce a married father.”

“Not seduce, and potentially not married, either. God forbid I have a little hope, Sho.”

“I think that what Shoko is saying is to set your expectations very low,” Utahime tells you, very wisely. “If you talk, you talk, and if you don’t, you don’t. It’ll be weird if you try to force anything.”

Shoko nods in agreement. “Also, if you humiliate the shit out of yourself in front of him, we don’t know you.”

“Never seen you in our lives.” Utahime nibbles at her pretzel again. 

“Thanks, guys. I love hearing how much you appreciate and value my company.” 

“Knock ‘em dead, bro.” 

The first goal is scored, and you cheer with the other Seattle fans. Hot Dad’s son stands up, too, jumping with you. 

“Wrong team, Yuji,” he says. “We like the green ones.”

“Aww..” The boy—Yuji—pouts. “Why can’t I cheer for the blue ones?” 

“Because that’s not our team. You live here, Yuji. Don’t you wanna support people from your own state?”

“Yeah, but you live in Seattle. Why don’t you like your city?”

He lives in Seattle?! And Yuji doesn’t live with him… Maybe he’s only an uncle?

“I do like my city, but I used to live here. I grew up with this team. I’m only in Seattle so I can go to school.”

He’s in university—you wonder if you’ll see him around? Probably not. Hot Uncle will most likely stay in your fantasies.

The game finishes before you know it. Nothing interesting happens—other than Seattle winning—for the rest of the weekend. Soon, it’s time for you to go back to your city and start the new school year. 

Your first week is uneventful; it’s your second year, so you don’t need to go to all the networking events you forced yourself into attending last year. It’s just straight into lessons. 

You heard about a few different parties, but you’d rather be there with at least a few people you know, and none of your friends were interested. Satoru mentioned that he wanted to host one, so you’d go to his, but that’s about it. This year, you’re mostly focused on your grades. 

Well, that’s what you thought. All your ambitions fly out the window when a familiar tattooed face sits down next to you in your Sociology lesson. 

“This might sound crazy,” he whispers. “But were you at a hockey game last weekend?”

Holy shit. He recognizes you?

“Uh, yeah. In Minnesota, right? I think we were sitting next to each other?”

“Mhm. I was with my brother, Yuji. I knew you looked familiar. Glad to know I’m not crazy.”

You chuckle. “If it wasn’t you, I’d be a little confused. Not many pink-haired powerlifters around here.”

He laughs. “Thanks—Oh, I can’t believe I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Sukuna Ryoumen.”

You tell him your name as well. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but is cut off by your professor beginning his lecture. 

“Let’s talk later,” he mouths to you. You nod and smile to yourself.

About 30 minutes after your lecture, you have this strange feeling that you’re being followed. 

“Hey,” a familiar voice calls behind you. You were right. The speaker quickens his pace to reach you. “What’s up?”

“Nice to see you again! I don’t have much going on, just heading to the library. You?”

Sukuna shrugs. “I’ve got a class in that direction at two. Otherwise I don’t have anything.”

“It’s one forty-five, you should probably get going. Oh, but do you have plans this evening?”

“Nah, I was just gonna watch TV or something. Why do you ask?”

“My friend Satoru is throwing a party tonight. It starts at ten, if you want to join us.”

“I’m down. Here, I’ll give you my number, so you can text me the address.” Sukuna pulls a random pen out of his pocket. He reaches for your hand and scribbles his number on it. 

You laugh, ignoring the way your hand tingles where he touched it. “I’ll text you. See you tonight, hopefully?”

“See you tonight,” he agrees.

—

“Sukuna! You made it!” You wave over the giant who’s just entered the room. He towers over most of the people—he’s even taller than Satoru, and definitely bigger overall. Sukuna has the most muscle you’ve seen on a human. Something about his physique makes you want to climb him like a tree, but that’s an inside thought. 

His gravelly voice brings you back to the present. “Yeah, I’m here. Do you know where I could get a drink?”

“Sure. Why don’t you come to the kitchen with me and I’ll grab you one?” You grab his (huge, veiny, rough, masculine) hand and drag him through the crowd. 

Once you’re in the kitchen, Sukuna takes a seat on a stool at the counter. “What can I get for you, sir?” 

He smiles and you almost collapse. But you persevere. “I’ll just get a beer, thanks.”

“Alright, then I guess I’ll have one too.” You pull two random longnecks from Satoru’s fridge . You try to look cool and open them using the counter, but of course, the caps go flying. You pick them up whilst trying to regain your dignity, ignoring Sukuna’s barely concealed snicker. “Something funny?” You ask, handing him his bottle. 

“Nothing at all.” He grins at you again, and your knees start wobbling. But again, you persevere. You skirt around the counter and take a seat next to Sukuna, taking a long swig of your drink. You gag a little—it’s been too long since you last had beer, and you forgot how much of an acquired taste it is. 

“So,” Sukuna starts. “Whose house is this again?”

“My friend Satoru. He’s, like, old money rich, so his parents got him this place when he started uni. Suguru lives with him, too. Satoru dated my friend Utahime—the one who lives in Minnesota—but they decided they were better friends. And also that they were both gay.” 

“Ah. So are Satoru and Suguru…”

“Yep. I mean, I don’t think they’re official yet, but Suguru’s been into Satoru since we were kids. And they’re definitely fucking. Haven’t seen him in his own bedroom for months.”

“Oh.”

The two of you chat while you finish your beers. Sukuna actually makes great conversation. He’s funny, too. Hot and funny? He’s gotta be stupid, or something. 

“Truth or dare!”

“Truth, I guess,” you sigh. Why did you agree to play this game in the first place? If you know one thing about your friends, it’s that they really hate seeing you comfortable. 

Satoru’s grin makes your stomach churn. “If you had to fuck someone in this circle right now, who would it be?”

You glance around. Nanami, Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, Sukuna, and two girls whose names you don’t know. You only really have one option (not that you would have chosen anyone over him anyways). Your voice cracks slightly as you answer, “Sukuna.” Your cheeks flare as you feel his eyes on you, but you don’t have it in you to feel shame. 

Two rounds later, it’s Sukuna’s turn. 

Suguru asks the highly-anticipated question. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” His eyes are on you as he says it. You can feel them burning into your flesh. 

“I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the circle.”

Sukuna’s eyes are still glued to you as he stands up. He doesn’t avert his gaze, not as he offers you his hand and brings you to your feet. Especially not as he slides his hand behind your neck, burying itself into your hair. He only stops looking at you when he closes his eyes and lifts your mouth to his. 

It feels like everything you’ve ever dreamed of. His lips are shockingly soft, and they dance against yours so perfectly. Your mouth parts and his tongue slides in, caressing you so carefully yet so powerfully. It’s not long before you’re devouring each others’ faces. 

Satoru clears his throat. “I love that you guys are happy, but respectfully, please get a room.” 

The two of you pull apart quickly. You return to your respective seats and continue the game, but the vibe is a little different. Y’know, after you just sucked Sukuna’s tongue in front of five other people.

Nothing interesting happens for the rest of the game, other than Sukuna giving you sex eyes the whole time. As soon as you’re all finished, he steals you away from your conversation with Satoru. 

“Hey. Satoru, right?” Sukuna’s hand slips around your waist. “Nice party. Unfortunately, I’m here to steal this one away from you.“ He places a kiss on the top of your head. 

Satoru snorts. “She’s all yours. Oh, and all the rooms upstairs are fair game, just don’t get cream on my furniture.” 

You blush furiously as Sukuna laughs. “Thanks, man.” He guides you towards the stairs and into a hallway. 

“What was that?” you ask. “During the game, I mean.”

“Oh, you mean this?” He smirks, pulling your face up to meet his again. When your lips connect, you nearly decompose, melting into his touch. He’s gentler this time, more careful. One of his hands is behind your neck, threading through your hair, while the other pulls you in by your waist. You can feel his erection grow in between your bodies, and he’s big. You can’t help but imagine how it would feel—in your mouth, in your pussy…

You're breathless when you finally break away from the kiss, for multiple reasons. 

“Y-Yeah, I mean that,” you squeak out.

Sukuna pulls you into a random, empty bedroom and shuts the door behind you. 

His mouth meets yours yet again as he collapses with you on the bed. His lips pepper kisses along your neck , and he makes his way down your body. “Been wanting you since I met you,” he murmurs between pecks. “So fuckin’ small n’ delicate. Thinkin’ of you getting split apart on my fuckin’ cock.” 

You shiver at the thought of it. Sukuna’s fat dick pounding into you. His hands bruising your waist as he fucks up into your tiny cunt. You picture him pumping you full with his cum, overflowing your pussy with his seed. “Please,” you whine. “Fuck me, Sukuna, I need it. I’ve needed it for so long…” 

He nips at your collarbone. “Mm, gonna fuck you so good, baby. But first, I gotta get you all ready for me.” His hands run down your body, cupping your breasts through your shirt with a gentle squeeze. They trail down, all the way to your thighs. He flips your skirt up and massages the skin right next to your panties. He plants kisses on the insides of your legs, finishing with a quick peck of your clit through the fabric. Even the slightest sensation eases a moan out of you. 

“Don’t tease me,” you cry. “I want you, please!” 

“Wait, let me just grab a condom.” You deflate slightly as Sukuna pats down his pockets. 

You weren’t going to suggest this, but it looks like you might have to, considering Sukuna is still patting away.

“I’m clean. If, y’know. If you’re comfortable with that.”

His eyes light up, but then he frowns. “I haven’t gotten tested in a while. I couldn’t put you at risk.”

You hate how responsible he is. “And no condom?”

“Nope. I’m sorry. I wanted this as bad as you do.” He really does look disappointed, and so does his boner. “I’d still eat your pussy, though, if you let me.” 

“Fuck, please do. I want you so bad,” you sigh, thinking about your soaking pussy.

Sukuna groans. His rough hands grasp your thighs, pushing them apart, and he rubs a knuckle along the soaked fabric of your panties. Your cunt aches with need. Sukuna’s fingers leave your core, making you whine, but he makes up for it when he hooks his index into the waistband of your panties and tugs them down. Your pussy clenches when the cool air hits it. Sukuna presses close-mouthed kisses to the soft skin of your thighs, making his way towards where you need him the most. 

He parts your sopping folds with two fingers, and his tongue darts out to lick a stripe up your cunt. You cry out in pleasure.

“F-fuck… hnngh…! M-more, more!” you whimper. 

Sukuna continues lapping at your hole, while his hands take a bruising hold on your hips. You can feel yourself nearing your limit as he begins sucking at your swollen clit. You’re nearly screaming as your fingers find sanctuary in his hair, pulling at it as hard as you can. You think it can’t get any better, when Sukuna decides to push two fingers into your center. 

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming…”

You’re pushed off the edge as Sukuna starts thrusting with his fingers. Your pussy clenches, your body convulsing as he continues his assault on your cunt. Your vision goes white, the only thing you can feel being his tongue and his fingers. 

You recover from your orgasm, panting. Sukuna’s touch leaves your pussy, and you can feel your hole leaking. Sukuna collapses next to you, sucking your cum off his fingers. “You taste so fucking good, y’know that?” He grins as you blush. “Here, I’ll show you.” 

He grabs you by the waist and pulls you on top of him, then brings his lips up to yours, encasing them in a kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, tangling itself with yours. The way his body feels pressing against yours is enough to satisfy you for a lifetime. 

[turqrambles]

Bless Sea of Stars for having NPCs in the final dungeon look me straight in the eye and tell me "Okay, in the next room is THE FINAL BOSS OF THE GAME, so here's a save point, a campfire, and a two-way teleporter that connects this room with the exit. You can LEAVE AT ANY TIME BACK TO THE WORLD MAP TO DO SIDE-CONTENT BEFORE THE FINAL BOSS."

[mixingandmelting]

Secretly Admiring You Artistically

Summary: How he's expressing that you're in his mind through art

a/n: based on scenes in the comics as civilians

Dick: Doodles

He’s dying. Actively decaying in real-time. Why he brought back the notepad from his day job as an officer home or why Haley pulled it out from his bag and gave it to you, he has no idea. To make matters worse, he’s crouching on the ground with both hands covering his very-much burning face as you stand in front of him silently, flipping through each page that’s filled with doodles of you rather than work notes he should’ve been taking for the cases he’s working on.

 It isn’t an exaggeration to say his world revolves around you. He’s not ashamed or has any problem expressing how much of a simp he is for you whether it’s to you or everyone both verbally and physically, 24/7. Seriously, he can’t go a day without getting a kiss from you or telling you how much he loves you, no matter the situation. He’s constantly stuck to your side, always smiling from how you showered him with affection back, spoiling him silly to the point he’s thinking he’s the luckiest man in the world. But artistically? He drew a stick figure once during a game of Scribble. Tim was for sure that it was a basketball hanging on a fishing pole. Bruce had told him he can help him get enrolled for art classes. 

“So, did the sarge or corporal see any of this yet?”

“No…,” He manages to wheeze out. He needs the ground to swallow him up right now. He still can’t believe this is how his (poorly and very much terribly drawn) doodles of you are discovered and exposed to you of all people. When he hears the notepad being closed shut, he musters all the strength in his mind and body. “...Can I please have my notepad back now?” He knows the answer. And he knows what’s about to happen next. But maybe today he’ll be lucky he’ll get it back- 

“Nope.” The way you pop the “p” at the end of the word - of course you wouldn’t. He doesn’t even need to look at you to know the type of grin you have on your face.

With that, he gets up and yells your name as he gets up to chase after your running form. Sure, he’s dreading what exactly you might do with the doodles but his heart is filled with adoration from how he still managed to give you happiness from them. You are the most lovable person in the world to him - he can’t wait to kiss the ever living lights out of you when he gets you.

Jason: Poetry

Oh. Well. This is embarrassing.  He rubs the back of his neck, face completely dyed red. You snuggling your face into the crook of his neck while embracing his biceps is fine. In fact, he loves waking up to see you sleeping peacefully next to him. His heart always swells with affection from how you feel so warm and right in his arms while being reminded how you genuinely enjoyed and appreciate him and his presence.  The problem was the book lying open on the coffee table next to him. The book filled with romantic poems that he placed on his face after deciding to take a power nap which ended up as a snooze session.

He had been reading each poem, using a sticky note and red pen (because he’s not a heathen to ruin such beautiful and sacred text) to mark which parts or lines reminded him of you the most. Each sticky note had arrows drawn with whatever note he’d make about you, placed on the long-edge of the pages. It was obvious you had found out the contents of the book before joining him on the sofa as you had done the same, only your sticky notes were sticking out from the shorter-edge. 

“Jason… What’s wrong?” He quickly turns his head away, covering the lower half of his face. The fact you aren’t even letting go when you usually would makes things worse, your grip tightening instead of getting loose. He doesn’t turn around to know the expression you’re making, feeling you nuzzle into his side.

“...Are you telling Roy or the others about this?” 

“What? Hell no. This is only for you and me- why would I want to share it?”

With that, he topples over you and wraps himself around you like a giant, warm teddy bear. On top of relief, he’s filled with childish glee from getting to share something that’ll only be meant between you and him. It gets a chuckle from him when you laugh at how ticklish he makes you as he snuggles into you, eventually making you two fall asleep in each other’s embrace with smiles on your faces.

Tim: Photography

He’s pacing in circles in his room. Then he’s flopping onto his bed and screaming into his pillow. Pacing in the room. And again, screaming into his pillow. He’s been repeating this exact pattern for ten minutes straight now after finding the photo album on his desk. How Stephanie found out about them or why she showed them to you when you stopped by while he was out, he doesn’t know nor want to know. But he’s pretty sure  that he's doomed. Best case scenario is break up. Worst case scenario is you choosing to never see him again because you found him creepy. 

But, it’s not his fault, okay? He’s really down bad for you. Even when he’s dating you, he keeps finding himself falling for you deeper and deeper to the point he doesn't want to miss a single moment whenever he’s with you. So, every time the two of you went on dates or plainly hung out, he’d take pictures of you. You standing on a hill during a sunset, looking outside with the window down in his car, laughing in front of a bonfire with a marshmallow on a stick in your hands. He can’t imagine life without you. He needs to be with you even if it’s in a photo. 

Finally, he  gets back up and dejectedly drags his feet to the desk. Might as well put the album away before more people find out about it. Or so he thought when he suddenly freezes at the sight of a note sitting on top of it. There’s only a single sentence in your hand writing, making him do what it says. Having memorized the order of the photos in each album, he immediately finds a photo of him laughing while sitting on top of the hood of his car. It sits adjacent to a photo of you doing the same, making it look like the two of you were laughing while looking at each other. Heart skipping a beat with tears threatening to spill, he doesn’t look away when he grabs his phone and dials your number. 

“So? Are we hanging out tonight?” 

“No, we’re doing more than that. We’re going to go all out, my treat.” 

The way you chuckle does so many wonders to him. With that, he rushes to get ready. Even if he can’t give you the whole world now, he plans on making tonight the best night of your life since there’s no other way for him to express how much he loves you when words can’t cover half of them.

Duke: Notes

He’s an idiot. That’s what he mentally screams to himself when he drops the pile of handwritten notes right in front of you. Not once had he ever mentioned that he had collected all the notes you wrote to him including the ones back before the two of you even got together. All of them were written as your way to cheer him on, secretly giving them to him in every way you possibly can. It’s as if nothing could stop you from passing him a note, whether it’s during class, passing in the hallways, eating lunch, or slipping them in his school bag. There were even times you managed to place them in his textbooks, right where the assigned reading starts.

All those notes you passed to him, he found solace. He feels that he’s being mentally and emotionally supported unconditionally, no matter the circumstances . You don’t know how he cherishes the smiley faces you draw on them or the words you write. Each and every note he treats like they are a piece of you. It led him to keep a few in his pocket, pulling one and reading it to get the extra boost he needs to get through whatever he’s doing even if it’s homework or patrolling the city. 

Now here he was, caught red handed. He’s so nervous and on the verge of a mental breakdown, fearing that you might think he’s strange. Immediately he starts to ramble, spewing every excuse in the book while watching you pick the notes that dropped from his pocket off the ground. 

“They were growing into a pile inside my bag, so I was kind of in the middle of-”

“Do they work?”

He stops and blinks at you. What do you mean they work? There’s a light blush coloring your cheeks, your hands gently straightening each note to stop them from wrinkling and getting damaged further. 

“Are they making you happy?”  Oh. Oh. He pulls you into a strong hug, hoping his actions convey how he feels about you. It’s not the notes that’s making him happy- it’s you and your efforts to make sure he is that makes him the happiest man in the world.

Damian: Sketching

No. Just no. He’s so embarrassed that he can’t muster a single word right now. You were teasing him a minute ago about how he must have sketches of you when he refused to show you his notepad he carries around. Little did you know and much to his horror, you were completely right and that exactly was the reason why he didn’t want to show it to you. In fact, he had been finishing another sketch of you before your so-called attempt to sneak up on him. You being you, you kept probing him into showing his sketches and with him being so flustered, he ended up getting the notepad snatched out of his hand leading to the current situation where both of you are standing with the biggest blush to be seen from mankind. 

It’s not two sketches he’s drawn too. There’s a whole comic strip he drew in there featuring one of his favorite moments he had with you on top of all the other sketches, some being portraits, some being a compilation of various expressions you make on a daily basis. The way he’s constantly stuck about you has gotten to where Jon had gotten smug at guessing what he was thinking of when Jon found him suddenly grinning to himself. That day, the two of them got grounded by their parents once Damian started to threaten Superboy by getting kryptonite out and the other shot lasers out of his eyes as self defense. 

“They’re so beautiful.” Your muttering snaps him back to reality.

Not wasting a second, he grabs his notepad back. Pride damaged and completely panicked by showing a pathetic side to himself to you, he tries to go somewhere, anywhere, away from you. Only to stop when you grab his wrist. 

“Damian, you're absolutely talented.” 

He mentally groans. He hates how you’re sincere and genuine in these moments. You don’t know how much he treasures you because of this - being open, honest, and accepting of his every being. Worse is you not being aware or truly choosing your battles - it’s how you are; it’s part of your nature. Accepting his loss, he sits back down. He refuses to admit how affected he is by the way you smile with excitement when you pick up his sign. Letting his shoulder brush against yours, the two of you go through his drawings with you commenting on each one while he snarks back though it’s softer and filled with fondness.

[luv4fushi]

thinking about arguing with husband!gojo. it’s funny because he’s the strongest sorcerer alive with several other, more wicked enemies harboring one sided hate for him, yet he’s anxiously glancing at you every now and then as you hiss at him. you’re the only one who can make him doubt his strength.

he usually finds you cute when you’re mad, but right now he doesn’t really appreciate the way your face is scrunched up and how you’re yelling at him.

it’s not his fault. he thinks you’re being so dramatic.

“you’re laughing at me,” you deadpan. “why do you never take things i say seriously?”

“because i honestly don’t think it’s that serious,” he fires back, and your eyes narrow. oh, fuck.

arguing with your husband is never fun. it’s probably because the both of you are stubborn; you’re stubborn because you’re simply right all the time, and satoru’s stubborn because if you’re not right, then he is.

you pause for just a second, but it’s enough to sprout a moment of extreme tension between you and your husband.

“right,” you scoff after you inhale sharply. “you just don’t care, do you?”

“don’t fucking say that,” satoru snaps. “i do care. that’s why i’m here.”

it takes everything in you to not shoot him another death glare. “so i should be thankful for the bare minimum?”

satoru blinks. he would’ve flinched, but he refuses to let you have that sort of power over him. “i’m not giving the bare minimum.”

“yes you are,” you argue back, voice straining as you swallow a lump of anger down the back of your throat.

the both of you are still. it feels like an eternity passes before the anger in you wanes. you’re exhausted and this fight with satoru is surely going to make the both of you upset enough to not talk for the rest of the night.

“i’m sorry that i’m not good enough,” satoru says, breaking the silence. you’ve never heard his voice so small, so pathetic—he’s never, ever shown you this side of him, and you’re starting to feel that dreading pit of guilt tug at your gut.

“that’s not what i meant,” you force yourself to say, sighing.

“but that’s what you’re thinking,” satoru mumbles. he avoids looking at your face.

“no it’s not,” you deny. “it’s never been about that.”

satoru gives you a wary look. “then what is it about? because i’ve done everything i can.”

“everything? really?” you sneer. “do you even love me anymore?”

silence. satoru swears he can hear your heart break.

“baby, don’t say that,” he groans, “c’mon, we were ten points away from three stars. that’s a single plate—one you didn’t turn in because you somehow forgot how to dash!”

you whip around to glower at satoru, your face twisting into an offended expression. “you set the kitchen on fire! how could i do something like serving a dish if the kitchen is on fire?!”

“baby, it’s the same button that it always has been this entire game!” he whines. “and you set the kitchen on fire! you keep forgetting to take the rice off the stove!”

you sigh exasperatedly, crossing your arms to act like some sort of shield between you and satoru’s (truthful) words.

“but you don’t chop up your stupid fish!” you protest. “so i end up doing five things at once!”

satoru opens his mouth to speak, but he knows you’re in the right. he opts to click his tongue instead.

“and every time i asked for help,” you add, frowning, “you just kept bringing out more of the dumbass cucumbers! we don’t have counter space for that!!!”

“that’s for prep to maximize our sushi making! throw it on the floor!”

“are you kidding me? that’s so unsanitary!”

“it’s a game!”

you’re both panting by the end of the fight. you’re biting down on your inner cheek and satoru is scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly.

“… sorry,” he mumbles. “i won’t bring out cucumbers anymore. and i’m also sorry for being mean about you not knowing how to dash.”

“good,” you huff. “‘cause i was seriously not gonna play anymore.”

“and…?” he prods, nudging you in your ribs. you can tell what he wants just by the sound of his voice.

“and i’m sorry for getting mad at you even though you’re doing you’re best at carrying me in this game…” you murmur, rolling your eyes.

satoru’s face brightens and he places a wet kiss on your cheek. “you’re forgiven.”

“love you, dummy.”

“love you too, baby.”

“no more cucumbers unless the ticket calls for them,” you remind him pointedly.

“yes, chef!”

[sirxlla]

You Randomly Get Kidnapped but You Can Handle Yourself (Batboys)

(Requested by @nesting-dreams ily sm thank you for all the ideas/prompts xxx)

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

Dick: He was never one to have or tell you what you could and couldn't do. For you, you wanted to work a job like a regular person even though he said he would financially support you. You didn't want to feel like you were mooching off of him.

So as unfortunate as it was you were trying to get in your vehicle after working a really long shift at the hospital while on the phone with Dick, a man came up behind you and they were very swiftly beaten with a metal waterbottle.

Dick was obviously very worried cause of what he heard and he was already patroling the area which meant he very swiftly came to you. You were sat ontop of the man, his arms pinned under your knees as you brutally smacked him over and over with a waterbottle.

"You wanna kidnap people in the middle of the night, You Little Shit?!" You were yelling.

Nightwing had to pull you off of the man noticing the damage you did, it took everything for Dick not to laugh at this man. He got beat up by a tired nurse with a fuckin waterbottle, needless to say he was proud and the man was swiftly arrested. The pair of you went home to have a well deserved nap.

Jason: Being the man he is he decided that it was a fantastic idea to give you a very strong tazer for your birthday because he thought you might need it and you really wanted one.

"I hope someone would, I'll taze their dick off!" You waved the uncharged tazer around very happy about the gift.

"You'll taze their dick off?" He laughed as he appreciated your enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, when you hope for something bad to happen it usually brings bad things around, you we're trying to get into the apartment with Jason was on the other side which of course the dumb ass trying to kidnap you didn't realize that.

By the time Jason get out there you were very clearly tasing this mother fucker in the balls. The man was groaning in very obvious pain, a shot of electricity to the family jewels didn't feel very good.

"You wanna go again, Asshole? You want me to taze you in the mouth, I'm sure that shit hurts just as much."

"I think you got him, Babygirl." He was smiling with full pride. He knew you would never use the taser without knowing 100% that you could do it without getting hurt and you very successfully did.

The man was left there and Jason brought you back inside, put your tazer back on the charger and then showed you all the ways he was very proud of you.

Bruce: He really didn't want you to have any sort of self-defense tool because he knew that if you fought back the likelihood that they would hurt you is extremely higher.

Naturally, you being you you bought a little bracelet that if you press it then it makes a very loud noise which can hurt whoever's ears you're pointing it at.

Another feature on there is that it sent him your location which was probably something that he would have been okay with if that's all it did but alas it was not.

From sparring with Bruce you knew a lot and this asshole pissed you off, trying to kidnap a woman while she was pumping gas? "I think the fuck not."

You had very promptly pushed the button and cupped it against the man's ear which caused him to get disoriented and fall flat on his stupid face.

"That's why you don't mess with girls at the gaspump! Suck my metaphorical dick, Motherfucker!" You would think that this was a Fortnite game with the way that you were acting, to anyone else it would have been the funniest thing ever but of course Bruce doesn't have the biggest sense of humor.

He thought what you were doing was reckless and stupid, you should have gotten your car and left. Bruce proceeded to lecture you the entire night about exactly what you should have done and why it was dangerous and how you're lucky that it didn't turn out worse than it was.

"We don't take pride when we hurt someone and we sure as hell don't gloat. What we're you thinking? He couldve got up. That was reckless."

Tim: Tim craved coffee like it was some sort of drug needing to be injected into jis veins and you really really loved the little muffins the coffee shop had. You got up early in the morning and we're making your way to the coffee shop.

You figured out you were being followed quite quickly so of course the only thing you had in your bag was your wallet and maybe a few pens. Nothing the regular person would think would be overly useful in a situation like this.

The pen was useful though if you used it right, it was swiftly brought between your fingers, you texted Tim you were being followed. He very promptly shot out of bed to protect you, throwing on whatever close were scattered around the messy bedroom.

Once he found you, you were leturing the man on all the places you could stick the pen. The man was on the ground pinned to the floor. None of the Batboys were ever gonna let their woman go out of sight without some sorta training.

"I could stick this in your jugular, if you'd like. I could gove you the choice you were never gonna give me."

"You could stick it in his eye, its less lethal and could be considered an accident." Tim chimed in with a smile, the smile on Tim's face was quickly matched by yours.

The man underneath you was panicking because for all he knew you two were complete psychopaths considering jow many Gotham has. He started begging for you to let him go, You got off him while clicking the pen which made him run off like a little crybaby.

Tim and you walked hand and hand to the coffee shop like nothing ever happened. You both knew the pen wasn't what scared him if was your confidence and the way you spouted things off like a crazy person.

Damian: Damian was very much his father's son and he would do the same psychotics weird ass shit that Bruce did. The only difference was he asked you and you very clearly said no to a tracking device being put in you but that did not stop him from doing it and he did it very easily without you noticing.

Of course he didn't know anything was wrong until he noticed that you're tracking device really didn't move too much. He was kinda worried but it was instantly interrupted.

The phone rang and it was a guy calling for ransom while a guy in the background argued with you and said something about you stabbing him in the ass.

"We want a million." The man said off the bat.

"That's all your gonna ask for?!" Then there was the sound of the phone hitting the floor while you beat the shit out of them with a chair leg.

"You should really have better quality shit if you're gonna kidnap someone!" You yelled while the two men grunted on the floor, the first one had had the chair smashed into his back and this one was being wacked with a chair leg.

Damian showed up in regular clothes, he could tell by the phone call you didn't need any help.

"How the fuck did you know where I am?" You asked with clear suspicion and irritation.

"I traced the cell phone call." He lied very easily but there was something off and you could tell. He always kind of scratched his chin when he told you a lie and he had a shitty poker face.

"You put a tracker in me?! When we get home, you are cutting it out. I dont care that you track me but I'd rather not have a weird piece of metal in my body, Damian! I already have this stupid birth control for you, but at least that shit's been tested."

He knew that there was no point in fighting with you so therefore when the both of you got home, he cut it out and he stitched it back up and did everything he could to apologize without actually saying the words. You wore tracking bracelet from then on, a lot less invasive of the body.

Damian definitely was left apologizing over that for months cause he knew he betrayed your wishes and your trust. It was flowers, jewlery, gifts galore. Damian was never good with his words, you knew he was sorry but you wanted him to say it. Once he did the tension between the two of you quickly evaporated into thin air.

-> Masterlist <-

-> Send me prompts if you'd like <-

[sailortongue]

Lima Bean

pairing: kenji sato x reader

summary: kenji makes his intentions clear and a certain reporter is a little too committed to his job

an: ik the title is kinda dumb but bear with me i have an idea (title is still subject to change if the idea falls through). also tags are being kind of silly and I don't know how to get them to act right so if you asked to be tagged but didn't get notified I swear I tried 😭

wc: 2k

navi | prev | series mlist

--------

“I’m pregnant.”

Those two words changed Kenji’s entire demeanor in seconds. His face dropped and his jaw hung open in complete disbelief. “. . . Are you sure?” He asked. 

“Positive test, missed period, morning sickness,” you listed off. “I’m going to make an OBGYN appointment anyway just to be 100% sure, but so far yeah I’m pretty sure.”

“Ah,” was all he could say in response, his mind both blank and racing at the same time. Had he really not used protection? Was he that drunk? He tried to think back to that night, but all he could seem to remember was a flash of you under him and his lips on your neck. His face immediately flushed scarlet. 

“Are you angry?” You asked, noticing the rapid shift in his complexion. 

He rushed to deny your assumption. “No! No, nothing like that. I'm just . . . not sure what to make of this.”

“I know how you feel,” you said wryly. “Just thought you should know, I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling almost hollow inside with the knowledge that your life was about to undergo a drastic change.

“I appreciate it, thank you. If you don’t mind, uh,” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “I'd like to be present. To be a father.” He thought back to when he took care of Emi and how much he came to love her. He was confident in his ability to take care of his own biological child, even if these weren’t the circumstances in which he imagined he’d have one. 

You looked at him as if you were meeting him for the very first time, entirely taken aback by his willingness to step up. Truthfully you'd expected him to deny any responsibility, but there he was, asking to raise the baby alongside you—to step up to the metaphorical plate and be a dad. “Really? And you’re not going to leave at the first inconvenience?”

“No. You have my word on that.” His expression was one of utmost sincerity. “I want to be a dad. Granted, this isn’t how I expected it,” he laughed awkwardly, “but it’s how it happened, and I won't run away from it.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I'll be honest, I didn't expect you to be so noble.”

“Thought I’d tell you to get rid of it or just throw a check at you to never contact me again? I understand the concern, but I want to be there every step of the way.”

“Then, would you like to come with me for my appointment? I haven’t scheduled it yet but . . .” you trailed off, realizing you were asking a very busy man to take time out of his day to accompany you to a doctor's appointment. “Unless of course you’re busy or don’t want to,” you added quickly.

He laughed at how flustered you’d gotten. “I'll be there. No matter the weather, practice, or a game, I will be there. That’s my kid you’ve got in there after all,” he said with a broad grin on his face as he pointed to your abdomen. “And that takes priority over everything else.”

“Wow. You’re smitten with something that’s probably the size of a lima bean right now,” you teased.

“Woah now, that’s our lima bean and I’m going to be the best dad a bean could wish for,” he asserted, imagining teaching his future son or daughter to play baseball with him or helping with homework, even what it would be like to do his daughter’s hair, or perhaps teaching his son how to tie a tie.

He was snapped from his thoughts when you slid your phone towards him from across the table, the screen displaying a new contact. “If we're going to be coparenting we should have each other's numbers.”

He picked up the device to input his number and then checked his own phone. He showed you the screen, a message from your own number displayed there. 

It was only when he handed your phone back to you that you noticed how late it had already become. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize the time. I didn't mean to keep you so late,” you apologized. 

“No no, it’s fine. I'm glad you, or, Ami, I guess, insisted we have this conversation in person. Think if I had been told over text I’d still be sitting on the couch reading it over and over again,” he laughed. 

“That was how I felt looking at the test. It didn’t feel real.” You had a smile that mirrored his own, and you couldn’t believe how fortunate you were that Kenji wasn’t the douche you expected he’d be when he found out. Quite the opposite, to your pleasant surprise.

“Do you need a ride back home?” He asked earnestly, not quite ready to say bye. After all, you hadn’t  allowed him the chance the last time you had met. 

You shook your head as you stood from the table. “No, I drove here, but thanks anyway. I guess I'll keep in touch?”

He hummed in affirmation, standing from his chair, his impressive height towering over you. He gestured for you to walk first, following close behind you, his hand lightly pressed to your lower back as he walked with you to your car. While the two of you were wishing each other good night, another patron of the cafe was typing furiously into his phone, notifying his boss that he had just overheard the sport's world's juiciest scandal in months.

-❀-

The first thing you did the following day was schedule an appointment with an obstetrician. There had been a recent cancellation so you were able to get a slot in just a few days. You sent Kenji a text to notify him when and where, a small part of you looking forward to seeing him again. He responded quickly, saying he would definitely be there. 

When the day came, he called you to ask if you wanted to go together, rather than take two cars. You agreed and told him your address, choosing to wait for him inside due to the biting cold of December. When you heard a car pull up, you exited your home, and it took all of your willpower not to gawk at his car, which was probably worth more than your entire house. You saw the driver's door begin to open, and he stepped out, breathtakingly handsome as usual. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and waved, greeting you with a jovial “Morning!”

“Good morning, Kenji,” you returned, a smile gracing your features. 

As you approached the car, he slid back into the driver's seat and looked over at you, taking in the sight of the mother of his future child. He'd lain awake all night, playing with the idea over and over in his mind. He was really going to be a dad. How different could it be to raise a human baby if he’d already done so with a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby?

You noticed his gaze in your peripheral vision, but as you turned to look at him he snapped his attention forward and made himself busy with inputting the name of the doctor’s office you’d given him into the GPS. 

The ride was filled with pleasant small talk, asking each other how you had been since last time, basically avoiding the elephant in the room and talking about everything except the new life between you. After parking, he made sure to open the door to the office for you and entered after you, a rush of cold air enveloping you as you approached the front desk. You confirmed your appointment with the receptionist, and she directed the two of you to sit in the waiting room and told you your name would be called when the doctor was ready. 

As you were waiting, you noticed Kenji’s leg bouncing up and down rapidly, showing his nerves despite it not even being his appointment. You took the opportunity that had presented itself and placed your hand atop his knee. He looked over at you, his brown eyes wide and his lips pressed into a thin line. “You can wait in the car if you’d prefer—“

“No!” He all but shouted, refusing to let you believe for even one second that he would run out. “I said I would be here for you and I will,” he said adamantly, placing his hand over yours where it was still on his knee and squeezing tightly, a physical reassurance that we was staying put. 

“y/n l/n.” You heard your name called.  You and Kenji stood together, his hand not releasing yours. Instead, he rubbed calming circles on the skin as you were escorted into the patient rooms, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was meant to ease his nerves or yours. Either way, it was a sweet gesture.

-❀-

The gel was cold as it was spread across your exposed skin, sending shivers up your spine. A grainy black and white image showed up on the screen, and the doctor pointed to a small grey object depicted on it, surrounded by a sea of black. “This,” she started, “is the fetus.” You looked at the screen in awe before glancing over at Kenji. He was seated in a chair against the wall, his elbows braced on his knees as he leaned forward, his attention rapt on the screen and his lips open in a small “o” shape. 

The doctor chuckled at your amazed reactions. “Excited to be parents?” She asked.

You don’t think Kenji even heard her, so you answered. “To be totally honest, this was unexpected, but I think we can make it work. Kenji here made it very clear that he wants to be a dad.”

“That's wonderful to hear. Well, looking at the scan I'd say you’re about 7 weeks along and you can expect to welcome the baby around August 11. 

Kenji was practically bubbling as you each took your seats in the car, and he kept stealing glances at your tummy even if you weren’t showing any visible change yet. 

-❀-

These past few days of tailing the nation's sweetheart baseball player were so worth it, thought the man sitting in his car while browsing through the photos of Kenji Sato and a woman he’d never been seen with before entering and leaving an OBGYN facility together. Interesting. Very interesting. With those photos there was no denying that Kenji Sato, baseball heartthrob, was a soon-to-be father.

-❀-

Kenji put the car in park in your driveway. You made to get out of the car until he exclaimed “Wait!” You re-situated yourself on the seat, angling yourself towards him. He seemed almost at war with himself, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually say what had prompted him to stop you from leaving. “Would you, uh,” he faltered, chuckling awkwardly. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” He gave you a hopeful look. 

Heat flushed across your face and ears, and you beamed at him. “Doing things way out of order aren’t we?” You joked. 

He laughed mirthfully as well. “Way out of order,” he agreed. “So, was that a yes? To go out?”

“Yes, that was a yes,” you giggled, finding his eagerness endearingly sweet.

He nodded his head. “Ok. Ok, great. Are you free this Saturday? I'll pick you up?”

“I’ll see you then,” you agreed cheerfully, and, deciding to take another risk since you were doing things all out of order anyway, you leaned over and placed a quick peck against his cheek before hopping out of the car and waving goodbye. He continued to wait in the car until he saw you safely enter your home, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest and his face crimson red, one hand placed lightly against where your lips had touched his skin. 

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next

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taglist: @mochminnie @lovingyeet @sassy-cat-in-town @hanachiiii @aise-30 @reivelmin @fcheung750 @breaddippedinorangejuice @lunaryasha @imsimping4life @boomboom-tanjiro2019 @f1uveryysblog @random-3455 @b3e-sat0 @retaaaa56 @casualburning

[merlucide]

SPOTTING YOU IN THE CROWD! hcs

notes: first post of the new year!! Happy new years!! <33 [Requested]

characters: Aiku, Sae, Sendou, Kaiser, Ness, Lorenzo, Snuffy, Loki, Noa, Chris Prince, Lavinho, Leonardo Luna

warnings: cursing probs, not proofread (again, idgaf) fem!reader in Lavinho’s

pt1 pt2

You bundled deeper into your sweater hoping to savor some warmth, it might as well be snowing right now. As much as you wished you were at home, curled up under a blanket, you were happy to be here, watching your boyfriend’s game. Normally, you only went to home games, but this time you thought, ’why not?’. So, after a 4 in a half hour flight, a 30 minute taxi ride, you finally made it to the stadium. You’d go to his games pretty often, sitting in the VIP section. This go around, you wanted to sit closer, to get a better view of your lover of course. The whistle blows for halftime and you excitedly signal to him.

OLIVER AIKU

Smirks and shakes his head hehe

Means tons you came!! :)

He rlly can’t believe you came lmao

Doesn’t yell back but makes hand signs to ya

You can just tell what he’s trying to say, benefit of The Charm™ (*AHEM..*👀)

Might blow you a kiss, might not, depends on which Aiku you get😙

If he does you ofc accept it and return it, which he cradles it to his heart hehe

*cue jelly and disgusted sendou*

-

🦢: ‘cringe tbh’

🐍: ‘Say, I don’t see your S/O in the stands’

🦢: ‘Low blow.’ bitchless HA

ITOSHI SAE

Surprised

-

That’s it, thanks for reading.

-

….no like he’s so boring, no expression, no fun, no personality

Why are you with him bro

-

Sorry the Sae hater in me took over, let’s continue.

-

Happy? You came? Like

Hes indifferent to it 😭

I mean he recognizes the effort made to see him and appreciates that, YES!

Gives you a little wave :3 (if you’re lucky he’ll give ya a small smile)

He def scores a goal for you and kisses his promise ring looking in your area

After the game he Venmo’s you what you payed for the tickets— despite your retaliation lmao

I hate this hoe

SENDOU SHUTO

Aiku thumbs to you in the stands and bbg lets out the BIGGEST OVERDRAMATIC gasp when seeing you

he could squeal

— Quickly goes back to ‘cool mode’, which lasts for two seconds before yelling back at you

🦢:’BABYYYYYYYY!!’

⚓️: ‘BABEEEEEEEESSSS!!

The team give him the look saying ‘simp’ LMAO

Gets all blushy n embarrassed lol

Yells at you to watch him and tell you he’s gonna score for ya (he totally missed the net)

MICHEAL KAISER

his face when he notices you: 😏

Fuels his ego by like, a gajillion times

—though he is conflicted between making it known to his teammates/fans that you’re here or not letting a single soul know of your existence lmao

Doesn’t wanna hurt your feelings by ignoring you tho 💀 especially since you came ALL the way to see HIM

(Rlly appreciates it)

Just rolls his eyes at you and grins

You kinda have a conversation with your faces LMAO

Bc again he’s trying not to attract to much attention to you!! (cus media, etc)

Ness sees you and waves ! :)

-

🪄: ‘I didn’t know y/n was coming! Hi y/n!!’

🥀: ‘Shut up you squealing maggot.”

🪄: ‘Oh okay’

ALEXIS NESS

turns exactly into “🥹+🤩” combined

So happy you came!!!!

Means so much to him that you’d take your time and money to see him play!

Gives you that big fat wobbly smile of his and yells ‘Hi!!’

Points you out to Kaiser ‘Look! Kaiser, y/n came!’

he doesn’t gaf LMAO

He gives you a nod tho!

-

Blows you many kisses 😌

BM is all giving him the biggest side eye LMAO His love for you makes everyone within a 20 mile radius uncomfortable

-

def gives you the biggest cheek kiss ever and hugs you HEHHEEEHHEHEHEHE

DON LORENZO

Ugly smiles hehehehheh

Two-finger point at cha’ yelling ‘HEYYYYYYY!!!!’

Laughing and smiling soo much

He’s literally BEAMING

He always wants you to come to his games, but understands you have a life of your own and can’t make it to them all

BUT YOU CAME THIS TIME!!

‘MIO AMOUR DIDJA SEE MY MOVES EH? PRETTY SWEET YA?’

afterwards totally tries doing more showy tricks and plays for ya hehe

He’s just pumped af you’re here!!

MARC SNUFFY

Touched 🥹 

Fr tho, he’s touched af

Happy big smile!!

Waves back at cha :3

-

He called you earlier before the game and had no clue!! I mean he heard crowd at the airport but you just brushed it off as ‘oh I’m just at the mall’

Really appreciates it! :)

JULIANN LOKI

he’s like ‘😮!!’

Didn’t expect that!!!

Means so much to him!!

Gets all blushy hehe…,.

Doesn’t want to make a scene so he opts out for a small slightly hidden wave (not to draw attention to you)

rlly appreciates you supporting his career !! Esp since he’s so young starting off so strong

-

After game he goes to you and shakes his head and hugs ya hehe

Can’t believe you lmao

NOEL NOA

Surprised af

Like the thought of you doing this never crossed his mind literally once, E V E R

He knows you watch his games on TV when you don’t go (most of the time)

Soft grinning from him heh

Doesn’t do much bc he doesn’t want the media all over you

-

After the game he brings you closer (not touching bc he’s sweaty af) and kisses your forehead

——Whiiiich the paparazzi saw and it was over the internet for the next few days

So mission failed for Noa lmao

LAVINHO 

okay think Bokuto’s ‘HEY HEY HEY!!’ That’s him rn

Manically laughing LMAO

Starts F L I R T I N G  with you from the field

He’s just like yelling ‘HEEEEY MAMAS, YA FREE AFTER THISSSS?’

Def brags to any single teammates of his LMAO

CHRIS PRINCE

Signature Chris Prince smile!!

Belly laughs too lmao— can’t believe you’re here! And that you didnt tell him

He would’ve easily arranged something easier for you to come, probs traveling with the team or smth

energized as crap and now will do everything at the tippity top of his game to impress you (he does this every time you go to his games, but like it’s 10x bc he’s so pumped)

LEONARDO LUNA

Making ‘:o’ face lmao

So surprised !! But SO happy!!

Like wym his darling came to his away game?? Wym they took a 4 hour flight to see him play

Feels so special hehe

Blows you kisses with both hands and waves with both as well

Makes it known you’re here (if you’re comfortable with being public, but in this scenario I’d assume so)

Gives you a big hug afterwards

help sorry for any ooc-ness for some I had a hard time getting creative juice

Made January 1st 2025

[missnxthingg]

Gal I need lando fluff as well could u do taking care of him when he’s sick and he’s all tired and clingy

needy | LN4

pairing: Lando Norris x Female!Reader summary: After a busy month, all Lando needs is his girlfriend to take care of him words: 1 K - warnings: Sick Lando and lots of cuteness (also not proof read, sorry) author’s notes:  I'm so sorry for the delay, it was a busy & unplanned week at work. But here we are, just in time to celebrate our favourite boy's birthday

main masterlist | main blog | taglist

Triple headers always hit quite hard on Lando. Since he joined Formula 1, he doesn't remember a single time he didn't end up sick after almost a month travelling around the world. And this time it wasn't different; he started having a fever the morning after he arrived from Brazil and stayed in bed all day.

Y/N found it odd to not find him in his usual state of relaxation after a full month of work: locked inside his dark gaming room, full of snacks and laughing with Max. Instead, he was wrapped around three blankets in their living room, body almost lifeless on the sofa as he watched a boring movie on TV.

“Oh, baby boy, are you feeling okay?”, she asked, putting her things down so she could check on him.

Lando smiled tired at her and shrugged, too tired to even say something. She knew he was getting sick, especially after he spent the entire flight home – and their night of sleep – coughing. She just didn’t expect for it to be that bad, to the point where the most chatty boy in the world would go speechless.

“Have you eaten?”, she ran her hands through his face and he nodded tiredly. Then she found the empty yogurt cup beside him and rolled her eyes. “A yogurt isn't eating, Lando”.

“Come cuddle, baby”, he mumbled, wrapping one of his hands around her wrist.

“I'm worried about you, my love”, she ran her hands through his curls, making him open a tired smile. “I swear to God, every triple header is the same. I won't let you go anymore”.

“It's just a way my body found of telling I'm tired”, he assured. “If you come cuddle, then I'll be fine”.

“Later, baby. I have to make lunch for us”, she pressed a kiss on top of his head and Lando whined loudly. “Stop being a baby!”

“You're evil”.

Y/N started taking things out of the fridge to start cooking their lunch, and Lando suddenly appeared behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist from behind and resting his head on the crook of her neck. She smiled at the gesture and cuddled into his touch as she cut some onions.

“Ouches my eyes”, he cried, making her giggle just before she stopped cutting the onions, to put it in the hot pan. “What are you doing?”

“Caramelized onion and creamy cheese pasta”, she revealed, making him open a big smile. “A favourite for my sick boy”.

“You're the best, baby. I love you so much”, he pressed a kiss on her shoulder, but didn't let go off her, choosing to stay glued to her side as she cooked.

“Lan, it's a bit hard to cook with you clinging onto me”, she chuckled. “Maybe sit right there and keep me company. Then I'll give you as many cuddles as you want”.

“Mmm, okay”, he smiled tiredly, finding a spot to sit close to her, as he observed her cooking. Travelling the world is nice, but he loved coming home to the love of his life, who always took the best care of him.

Suddenly, he was taken back to the early dates of their relationship, when she’d invite him over for dinner and cook him the easiest pasta that, in time, became his comfort food. That’s exactly what he needed after a long month away from home, and away from her, since she only came to the first race in Austin. His heart felt at ease when she served him a plate and found a spot next to him.

“Thank you”, he mumbled before attacking the food. “It’s so good to be home. It’s so good to be with you”.

“I was counting the seconds until you were back to me”, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and cuddled to his side as they ate in silence, just feeling each other’s presence. He learned to appreciate silence after loud days as he rested next to his favourite girl. “Are you feeling better?”

“My throat is sore, and it feels like I was hit by a truck”, he joked. “The headache is gone, though”.

“I’ll use my super healing powers to make you feel better”, she sprinkled kisses through his face, making him open a genuine smile for the first time that day. But just before she kissed him on the lips, he backed away.

“You’ll get sick, baby”.

“It will be worth it, then”, she declared, before sealing their lips into a sweet kiss. Lando had missed those lips more than anything, and if she was willing to take the risk of getting sick, then he’s not arguing about it. “I love you, my sweet boy”.

“I love you too, beautiful”, he pecked her lips once again and took a second to analyse her face from up close; the face he adored so much. “Now, can we please cuddle?”

“Yes, my whiny baby, we can”.

Lando wanted to sweep her off her feet and take her to the couch, but felt too weak to do so. Y/N almost had to do this to him to get him to stand up and walk. He collapsed onto their couch and was too tired to open his arms to invite his girlfriend to join. She still found her spot next to him and pulled him closer, until they were tangled together between the blankets.

She pressed soft kisses all over his face and watched his lips tiredly curve into a smile, just as he felt a little better to have her taking care of him. They didn't even notice they forgot to turn on the TV.

“I'm so glad you're finally home”, she whispered. “This place is too quiet without you. I don't like it”.

“I'm happy to be back with my home”, he pressed his fingers to her skin and she smiled at him. “You're the best. I missed you so much that I might as well take you with me next time”.

“Anything so we can be together”, she said. “Sleep, baby, I'll be here holding you”.

“I love you so much. You're my everything, the love of my life, the sweetest…”, he continued to list various things about her and fell asleep mid-sentence.

“I love you more, Lan”, she pressed one last kiss on his forehead before falling asleep too.

⤿ add yourself to the taglist!

[yuvany]

WHEN YOU PUT ANOTHER MEMBER ON A "HEAR ME OUT CAKE"

─── ( on point ) OT7 ENHYPEN x 𝒇 ! reader contains: fluff + tiktok trend + jealousy + est relationship + idol!reader for some parts + not proofread 𝐰𝐜: 1.1k

完美 : I know I'm late for the trend, but i hope you'll still enjoy it !!

reblogs and feedback appreciated!!

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

To say that he was shocked was an understatement. The sight of Ni-ki, his idol member, gagged him. "What?" You awkwardly chuckled when seeing his expression. "Tell me if you ever have any problems, I'm here to listen, babe." His words confused you, but you sooner realised what he was aiming at. Now, you're the one with the shocked expression. "BUT really, really for real, hear me out alright." You try to persuade your boyfriend, but he only lays down on the couch, his head resting in his palm that was propped on the cushion. "I am not hearing you out, he's literally like a younger brother to me." Heeseung yawns, "Is it my turn now?" You nod disappointedly. He turns around to his stack of paper cut-outs of mainly game characters before he turns back around and stick a picture of one of your group members. "WHAT!"

(more under the cut !!)

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

The look that Jay gave you the second he saw that you pulled out a small Sunoo selca was hillarious. "Tell me why he is there but not me?" He says, the hand placed on his chest exposing his secret demeanour. "Let's be honest, Sunoo is magestic." You argue, and you see how Jay quirks an eyebrow. "What have I done to deserve this? Has he tricked you into this?" His voice sounds questioning as he grabs onto each side of your shoulders, his fingers slowly grabbing you harder. "Jay, babe, I promise he didn't. I just have free will." You give him a kiss on the cheek and his grip softens. "Don't worry though, you're still my number one. No one beats the handsomeness you possess." You say with a chuckle, but Jay just shakes his head slowly with a worried expression.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗬𝗨𝗡

He watches as you place the Sunghoon cut-out on the messily frosted cake that you baked together. "Sunghoon? The Park Sunghoon?" Jake archs an eyebrow as he leans down closer to the cake to inspect the photo you chose. With a hum you nod you head. "I've got to admit, I am absolutely hearing you out on this guy." jake rubs his palms together and has a smirk on his face. Instead of worrying him, he worried you. It was supposed to be a little prank, but now you're wondering if he's pranking you in some way. "really?" You drag out. "100% Have you seen this guy's jawline, it's so sharp it could cut this cake." "And you're not worried I'm gonna go after him?" He scoffs mickingly as he says, "As if! He's way out of you league anyways." "But I'm in your league, so we're both in the same boat, no?" You raise an eyebrow. "Wait a moment."

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

"Why do you have the courage to do this in front of me?" Sunghoon let out a long sigh. "Do what?" "Why did you put a shorter guy, a less handsome guy and a 'I-want-women-to-ask-me-out' person on this masterpiece of a cake we baked." He was dramatic, something you were used to by now, and you simply rolled your eyes at him. "You mean Jake," you corrected him. Sunghoon mocked a gag as he crumbled the cut out and threw it away. The paper flung right over his shoulder before hitting the wall, the sound echoing through the silence. "Why want him, when you have me?" You felt your cheeks flushing red with embarrassment at the question. You tried to dismiss it by absently waving your hands in the air until he grabbed you by the wirst, almost forcing you to look him in the eyes. "So?" He asked with curious eyes. "Well, it's not like he's better than you anyways,"

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

The game had gone smoothly, him placing a fictional character that was universally agreed upon, and you did the same. But Sunoo flipped out when he saw Jungwon on the cake. "Why him, babe." He whined, and you shrugged. "Something about him is just like that." You shrugged, causing your boyfriend to raise an eyebrow. "Like what?" Sunoo interrogated, this being the main subject now. "I mean, he's got that leader quality, no?" "He also abuses me, he hits me. Do you like that?" He asked, a feigned look of sadness present on his face. "Jungwon would never." You almost shout, getting too invested in this persona for the prank. Sunoo sighs and continues with the game. Thus after it was finished, he made a point again, "Would you like me to call him?" he asked, and you were confused, "call who?" "Jungwon, of course." You burst out laughing. "No! Babe, I was pranking you." He rolled his eyes.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

This man finds stuff like this fun, but the idea not so much. Jungwon enjoyed baking the cake with you, but when he saw that you sneakily placed a small laminated picture of Sunoo, he gave you a side glare. This had shocked him quite a bit, and he dropped the ones he held in his grasp. "You dared do this to me?" It sounded playful with the tiny scoff he let out afterwards as a way to contain his giggles. "Well..." You dragged out, not fully knowing what to say. "Put that out of my sight." "But why!" You argued, to see how angry he'd get. "Babe, tell me one thing." You nodded, trying to hold his hand, but he made no effort. "Is this your way of saying that you want to break up with me? Am I not pretty enough?" He asked, and you scrunched your eyebrows. "What- no! I love you, you're making me feel about about this prank now. Sorry, baby." You apologised and threw the cut-out away.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

"Heeseung hyung?" Riki was almost flabbergasted by the look on his face and tone. It had come out so suddenly without having time to proccess what you meant when putting his elder on the cake. You nodded confidently, not wanting to retreat from this prank. You wanted to get back at him for all the times he left you clueless and shocked. "Damn, didn't know you liked them older, babe." He sighed dramatically as he placed his palm against his chest, acting hurt by the sight in front of him. "What, no-" You began to explainn only for him to cut you off quickly, saying, "If you wait a couple of years, I'll be older, so I hope that's okay for you." Now you were confused by what he was yapping about. "Ki, it was just a prank." You declared, a hand over your face as you were fed up by his shenanigans. "i know, hun, I know."

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa @pshwrldd NETWORK TAG : @k-films @en-diaries

[midnightcrw]

Provocative

Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader

Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.

Warnings: Swearing, even though it's only one swear word (this is fluff, by the way)

a/n: Since you all wanted a second part, I finally wrote one, although I really wasn't sure how to continue. I tried my best, and unfortunately, I'm not that happy with it, but hopefully, you all will like it somehow / Part 1

A headache threatened to make itself known as you looked unimpressed as the King of Hell shook your shoulders, causing you to rock back and forth.

"Did your parents drop you on your head when you were a kid?" Lucifer asked in a desperate tone, not wanting to believe that you and Alastor were a thing (obviously still not knowing that you're married to each other).

"Maybe," you said nonchalantly, ready to push him away if he didn't stop shaking you.

"But-" that's it, you thought as you pushed Lucifer's hands away from your shoulders, surprising him by that before cupping his face in your hand, squeezing his cheeks tightly as he stared at you with wide eyes.

"Listen to me," you began in a stern tone, glaring at him, making him visibly swallow. "You're going to let your daughter show you around, or I'm going to skin you infront of everyone."

With that, you let go of his face as you dusted off your hands, as if you had touched something dirty.

The rest of the residents could only stare with shocked expressions. Fortunately, they hadn't heard what you had said, but from what they had seen, it was definitely intense, as no one would dare do such a thing to the Ruler of Hell.

Though Alastor didn't look shocked, he seemed to be fuming as one of his eyes twitched while the crazed grin never left his face.

"Okay... Anyway, Dad. Look at this lovely parlor where people can get to know each other and share secrets and stories and intimate feelings!" The excitement was vivid in Charlie's tone as she had her beautiful smile on her face.

She was already trying to move on, wanting to make her point to her dad and you appreciated the fact that you weren't in the spotlight anymore.

Thinking that you were finally getting some peace, you sighed in relief before you felt Alastor's head on top of yours.

"Tell me, darling. How long have you known this little pesky, but surely powerful man?" The 'powerful' was emphasized, as the static seemed to get even more grating with his snippy tone.

Alastor was not the jealous type, you knew that. But he always had his moments, loving to meddle in other people's affairs while hiding his own.

Huffing, you turned around and looked up at him, "While you were gone for seven years, I might have befriended him."

The anger was evident in your voice as you did not explain further. Not only had your husband left you for a few years out of nowhere, but now he was suddenly trying to pry information out of you.

Alastor just laughed at your answer and shook his head while your hands clenched into fists.

And before you could curse him, he suddenly moved much closer, almost pressing his forehead against yours. "Surely for nothing of lustful nature," he whispered sharply, sounding almost disgusted as he uttered the word 'lustful'.

"Maybe I should have," two could play this game, and you certainly weren't going to back down now, since he loved to provoke you so much.

Hearing your reply, the static increased as his antlers grew before he suddenly disappeared in front of your eyes, now standing further away from you.

"Charlie has a very unique vision," your husband began as he approached Charlie, speaking very animatedly, "I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests," he said, placing his hand on the blonde's shoulder as she thanked him.

Of course, seeing that didn't make Lucifer happy at all, since he was already planning to kill Alastor when he got the chance.

And to be honest, at this point, you couldn't care less, almost ready to encourage Lucifer.

"Quite an impressive young lady. We're all very proud of her." The man dressed in red knew what he was doing as he pulled Charlie closer.

Somehow, even though he was angry, the short man managed to steer the conversation to another topic, such as getting introduced to the rest of the people in the hotel.

With a smile on her face, Charlie pulled Vaggie near her, "This is Vaggie. She's my girlfriend."

You had probably never seen Lucifer so relieved as a grin made its way across his face, "Oh my golly, you like girls?"

You truly wanted to bang your head against something, knowing that he was going to embarrass himself.

"Yes, so do I. We have so much in common. You put her there, Maggie," he said as he pulled Vaggie into a bone crushing hug, making her a bit uncomfortable with his enthusiasm.

"He didn't even get the name right..." you muttered, rubbing your temple in frustration.

And of course, it wouldn't be Alastor if he didn't continue to annoy you further, "Everything all right, my sweet?"

"Would be much better without you here," you said, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to deal with him right now.

"Is that so?" Alastor whispered in your ear with a toothy grin on his face, looking pleased with himself as you flinched at the sudden closeness.

All you could do was exhale sharply as you stepped away from him, even though he teleported right back into your personal space.

Ignoring him, you just watched the rest of the residents.

"Hello, I clean." Niffty giggled to herself as she grabbed hold of Lucifer's coat, causing him to stare at her with an uncertain expression on his face.

"Don't you dare throw the chandelier to the floor," you whispered, already one step ahead of him.

"Oh, and how well you know me," Alastor said in a delighted voice, and now you wished you hadn't told him that, because it seemed that another plan was brewing in that big head of his.

Without warning, your husband suddenly put an arm around your waist as he walked you closer to the rest of the people.

"You must be proud of Charlie since she has already found people who want to redeem themselves," the grin didn't leave his face as usual as the attention was once again back on you and Alastor.

Lucifer's eye twitched as he looked at you, not liking the fact that the deer was holding his friend so close.

"Sure I am," the short man said as he pulled you out of the radio demon's grip, causing the static to be heard.

"Doesn't seem like it," Alastor said quickly, jumping to the next topic before Lucifer could interject in annoyance, "I even remember the exact moment Charlie needed help, and of course, being the perfect gentleman, I couldn't help but lend a hand." He chuckled to himself as he suddenly grabbed your hand, wanting to pull you to him, but Lucifer didn't let go of your hand, but nonetheless he continued to talk anyway.

"You could almost call me dad," Alastor said with a sinister grin as both men continued to pull on your hand.

"Surely no one would call you that," the King of Hell said with contempt in his voice as he glared at your husband and suddenly turned his eyes to you, "I promise you, you can do better than this. Have you seen his haircut?"

"I see it every day," you muttered.

Charlie didn't seem to be in a better mood than you, as she let herself fall onto the sofa while Vaggie patted her head. And somehow Angel Dust was eating popcorn, even holding the popcorn bag in front of the Princess of Hell as she started to eat some of it while they all watched the three of you.

"In fact, she sees it every day and every night," Alastor added with a crazed look in his eyes as he started to get annoyed.

The look on Lucifer's face was hilarious. One would really like to see his reaction if he knew that Alastor wasn't interested in anything sexual, but just loved to anger people, especially those who didn't pay attention to him.

"Nobody wants to see that atrocity!"

"Well, she loves it!"

"She doesn't!"

And before things could get worse, Husk suddenly said, "Mimzy is here."

With that, your eyes widened as you looked towards the entrance while the men stopped pulling on your hands.

Oh and how you hated her.

"Surely you all missed me!" The voice of the beautiful little woman was heard, clearly directed at your husband.

Fuck no, you thought.

Taglist

@nonetheartist

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@randomuser-89

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@itsmskeisha

@l0ca1ax010t1

[junplusone]

i'll always say it's you ; yoon jeonghan

summary: you always used to think that even the end of the world couldn’t keep you and yoon jeonghan apart; you’d find your way back to each other somehow. ten years later, you start to wonder if that’s such a good thing after all.

contains: childhood best friends to ??? to ???, swearing, drinking (+ underage), talk of joshua and cheol's arm muscles, mention of drugs in a joke like once i think, caffeine addiction, peak delusion, jeonghan cheating in games as always, hella yearning

word count: 12.98k

a/n: this is lowkey a mess and probably kind of inaccurate loll but i hope u enjoy! feedback always appreciated xx

the me of today hopes for the you of tomorrow

“What about you, Y/N? Have you ever been in love?”

Hearing your own name slowly zones you back into the conversation at the table. You pause at the question, a drop of soju splashing out of the glass in your hand.

“What?”

“Come on, it’s just a silly question,” the young intern says, rolling his eyes. “You’re no fun, Y/N. We’re off work right now! It’s fine,” he drawls, swaying a little in his chair.

You can’t really remember his name right now, downing the glass in one go, but his bold innocence bothers you. Maybe his demeanor, full of life and promise, is what gets on your nerves. 

Were you like that when you were fresh out of college, too? It’s so unthinkable to you now, at twenty-nine. It feels like ages in the past.

“So? Are you —”

“I hardly think this is an appropriate conversation,” you say quietly, zipping your bag shut. “I think I’m going to head out, anyways. It’s quite late already.”

“But —”

“Chan, just stop asking questions and drink this, okay?” His friends try and calm him down with a glass of water. Amidst the chatter, you decide to slip away, silently pushing in your chair and leaving the bustling restaurant. 

Dinners like this always end up making you feel worse, anyways, like an outlier at a table of people with fervent hopes and dreams of their own. 

You make it two blocks until your phone begins to buzz in your pocket, and you fumble to answer it, knowing there’s only one person who would call you at nine o’clock on a Friday night.

“Hello?”

“Oh, you answered,” Yeonju says, evidently surprised. “I thought you’d still be at work.”

“I’m on my way home now,” you tell her. “Why, did something happen?”

“Kind of,” you hear rustling on her end of the line. “Jeonghan called.”

“Huh?” 

You had stopped abruptly at Yeonju’s words— foolishly in the middle of the road, and you rush to the sidewalk, still reeling. It’s been so long since you’ve even heard his name that it sends your mind into a tailspin when she says it again.

“I thought you knew,” she says, “He said he tried calling you first, but you wouldn’t pick up.”

“I don’t answer calls from numbers I don’t have saved,” you remind her. You haven’t had Jeonghan’s number saved on your phone in a long time. There was no need to keep it if you never used it anymore.

“I think you should talk to him.”

“Yeonju,” you shake your head. “Why would I? There’s nothing to talk about.”

“There is, and you know it, too,” she doubles down. “You won’t say it, but I know you agree with me.”

She’s right, as much as you want to pretend otherwise. When has Choi Yeonju ever been wrong about you? Sometimes it scares you how good she is at reading your mind, but as always, she delivers reality checks right when she feels like you need them.

“Maybe,” you admit begrudgingly. “But things are just easier without him.”

“Yeah, well, nothing is ever easy,” she points out, “but take your own time, no rush. And take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“I will,” you say with a faint smile.

“OK, perfect. Call if you need anything else, yeah? I gotta go now.”

“Okay, Yeonju, take care.”

“Bye!”

She hangs up just as you unlock your front door, shutting it behind you and kicking off your shoes. The peace and quiet of your apartment welcomes you, and you sigh in relief as you sink into your couch.

Pulling out your phone again, you scroll through your call log. There are a few unsaved numbers, likely just spam calls, but when you see the same number four times in a row, there’s no doubt about who it might have been. Your finger hovers over the screen; should you? Shouldn’t you?

No, it’s easier to just stay angry. It’s easier to pretend his name means nothing to you anymore. 

But even as you toss your phone to the side, Chan’s question still haunts you, like it’s a reminder that maybe you need to retrace your steps and do something different this time. 

God, you had finally been able to go a few days without thinking about him, but today just took you right back to square one.

“Have you ever been in love?”

When you close your eyes, all you see is him.

first time feeling my heart race, never thought it'd beat so fast

TEN YEARS AGO

“Yoon Jeonghan, delete that right now or I’m going to kill you.”

Jeonghan shakes his head vehemently, still cackling at the picture of you on his phone. This is nothing new to you; over the years you’ve gotten used to him finding the absolute worst angles of you whenever you fall asleep in class, or on the bus, and it never fails to get you fuming. 

In fact, if Jeonghan has one talent, it’s probably pissing you off.

“Not my fault you dozed off like that during lecture! Even Yeonju would have bullied you if she was there,” he teases. “I’ve been collecting bad Y/N photos since we were sixteen and in high school, why would I stop now?”

“You’re evil.”

“Thanks, I know.”

“Dinner’s on you, by the way.”

“What?!”

“Do you want to keep that horrendous picture or not?”

“Okay, fine,” he concedes immediately, slipping his phone into his pocket. “But we’re going back to my dorm first because I left my wallet on my desk.”

"Why would you not have that with you? Dumbass," you scold. 

To anyone else, you might sound angry, but somewhere in the unspoken words, you and Jeonghan have already reconciled. 

The weather is chilly and perfectly November-esque, and if not for the thick scarf around your neck you’d be shivering by now. Having Jeonghan by your side adds to the warmth spreading throughout your body, a little piece of happiness found in his company. 

You’ve never needed to explain yourself to him. Somehow, whatever you’re feeling, whatever’s going on, he just knows, and it’s perfect. You couldn’t ask for anything more.

Not much to your surprise, Jeonghan’s roommate is there when the two of you walk in, blankets piled over him as he hunches over his laptop. 

“Hey, Josh,” you greet him. “Everything okay?”

“No,” he frowns, rubbing his eyes, “I may have procrastinated a little too hard on this paper and now it’s due in a couple of hours and I’m totally fucked.”

“This is why I told you to drop that philosophy class at the beginning of the semester,” Jeonghan says, pocketing his wallet. “You don’t even need to take it.”

“Just trying to knock off my humanities electives, but honestly, this one kind of backfired on me,” Joshua admits, defeated. “Where are you guys headed?”

Jeonghan points at you accusingly. “This one tricked me into buying her dinner earlier.”

“I did not!” you gasp. “You walked into that one, stop blaming me for the consequences of your actions! Also, I want ramen, which means we’re going off campus, so you’re driving.”

He narrows his eyes at you as he reaches for his car keys. “You are so evil.”

"Takes one to know one, Hannie."

What throws you off is the way Joshua’s eyes flit between the both of you as you bicker, the way he tells you to have fun in that singsong voice of his as you step back out into the cold, like he knows something you don’t. 

You still remember the day you first met him, when Jeonghan left to go grab something after introducing the two of you, and the question that immediately followed.

“Are you guys together or something?”

And of course, Joshua meant no harm — nobody ever does, when they ask something like that. You and Jeonghan have been fielding questions like that since the start of your friendship. Everyone’s wanted to know exactly what it is that you are to each other, and the answer has always come without missing a beat.

Friends, you’ve always said. 

Friends in the way that you can’t go anywhere alone in your hometown without being asked where the other one is, the way that your parents always set out an extra plate and ask if he’s joining for dinner as usual.

The right word for it would be ‘inseparable’. Sometimes, though, you wonder if that’s all that it is. 

Like now, as you notice the cold has Jeonghan trembling next to you. His teeth are chattering, long lashes framing his eyes that are now narrowed in displeasure. 

When you unravel your scarf from around your neck and reach to drape it around his, they go wide in surprise. 

“What are you doing?”

“You never wear enough layers, idiot.” You tuck the ends into his jacket and the way he’s staring at you steals the breath out of your lungs. 

You can’t run from the fact; your best friend is undeniably attractive. It’s a simple truth, down to his soft but sharp features, the slope of his cheeks, and the hair that frames his face so perfectly. It’s dark out, but Jeonghan’s eyes are lit up like stars. You don’t even realize it until you start to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“Thanks,” he says with a faint smile. “What would I do without you?”

“Freeze, probably,” you reply flippantly, but you look away, unable to take the intensity of his gaze on you.

Just think about the way he looks at you, Y/N.

Was Yeonju right? You have no way of knowing, and you don’t want to tip the scales by bringing any of it up now.

“Alright, let’s go,” you say instead, tugging him along to the parking lot. “It’s late, I’m hungry, and you promised.”

“Why do you always seem so excited to drain my bank account?”

“It’s my favorite hobby,” you quip. “Shall we go?”

“We shall, m’lady,” he says as you get to his car, pulling open the door for you with a wink. Your cheeks burn as you get in, his defined features etched into your brain.

Yes, he’s your dearest, oldest friend, but Yoon Jeonghan has a certain way of making your head spin that throws that very title into question.

when half of me is gone, how can i live as one?

PRESENT DAY

It’s been exactly three days since Jeonghan called you, and you haven’t heard from him since then. You don’t know what you were expecting. Another call? A text? 

No, it would be quite stupid to hope for such things after everything that’s happened.

It’s a quiet Monday night, and your brain decides to take an involuntary trip down memory lane. Ten years ago today, you’d probably be doing homework frantically, most definitely an assignment you’d put off until the night of. Ten years ago today, Jeonghan would be by your side. 

Oh, how some things change over time. 

After another hour of mindless TV and doing whatnot on your phone, your conscience finally wins the moral battle against your pride, and you scroll down through your call log again. Taking a deep breath, you decide to call him back before your brain can convince you otherwise.

All the words evaporate out of your mouth when he picks up on the first ring. 

“Y/N?”

God, it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice. Just the sound of your name from him is enough to make you tear up.

“... Jeonghan?”

Silence. After a few seconds your heart sinks, thinking maybe he’s hung up on you and gone radio silent yet again. 

Then you hear it, just barely whispered into the phone: “I’ve missed you.”

Those words tug at your heart so badly you press your eyes closed to prevent your tears from welling up. “Jeonghan, don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“I haven’t heard from you in over a year,” you cut him off. “A year, Jeonghan. Do you really think you can just ‘I miss you’ your way back into my life whenever you want?” 

“Don’t say that,” he implores. “You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s true. I mean it.”

“I’ve heard the exact same line from you so many times,” you tell him, the rest of your words dying in your throat. 

You have many more things to say to him, so many unspoken feelings, but now doesn’t feel like the time. Instead, you swallow your anger like you’ve done every time he finds his way back into your life.

“How… how have you been?”

“I’m okay. I wrote a new song,” he says lightly. “Shows have been pretty alright, things are looking up… just the usual.”

“Oh, I see.”

“What about you?”

“I’m okay, too.” A blatant lie. “Jeonghan… why’d you call me on Friday?”

“Oh,” he starts, like he’s surprised you even asked. “Um, I’m actually in town for a bit, so… I was just wondering if you wanted to meet and catch up again. Y’know, like old times.”

It’s the flippant edge in his voice that stings more than anything else, as if he doesn’t care that your friendship hasn’t been the same for years. Do you mean that little to him now?

But, like always, you have a hard time saying no to Yoon Jeonghan.

“Okay,” you agree. “Just tell me where, I guess. And when.”

“Okay.”

It’s not for a few seconds that you realize your cheeks are wet. Jeonghan feels so far away now, the distance hurts like a piercing pain and you have to slap a hand over your mouth so he doesn’t hear you sob against your couch, the stoic wall you put up crumbling away with every passing moment.

“Y/N,” his voice is shaky now. “Y/N, please don’t cry.”

Feeling caught and cornered, your brain enters fight or flight mode, and promptly chooses the latter. “I’m not,” you blurt out, and immediately end the call, tossing your phone across the room so you aren’t tempted to call him again.

If time traveling was an option, you’d go back to a decade in the past without a question. For some reason it hurts more that after all this time, Yoon Jeonghan is still the one that knows you the best.

You wake up the next morning horribly late for work, with a blinding headache and a notification from Jeonghan on your phone.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: is tonight @ semicolon cafe ok with you? after you get off work?

xxx-xxx-xxxx: i won’t take up too much of ur time, i promise

xxx-xxx-xxxx: i’m so sorry y/n

you: its ok. that works, see u then

It’s well past nine o’clock when you finally enter the office. You almost make it to your desk unnoticed until your boss glances at you sneaking in.

“You’re very late,” Seungcheol observes, leaning back in his chair. His gaze is always stern, and today it makes you even more anxious than usual.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize. “Things just… everything kind of worked against me today. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“I believe you,” he says, casting another concerned look at you as you nearly drop your laptop going to your desk. “Is everything okay, Y/N? This really isn’t like you.”

“Yeah,” you lie through a tight smile. Damn Yoon Jeonghan and his stupid face for ruining your whole day. “Everything’s fine.”

Looking back, it’s quite impressive how you manage to keep your composure throughout your whole workday. You know you’ve accomplished a feat when even Junhui doesn’t really notice anything’s wrong. 

Despite how oblivious he comes across at first, your colleague is easily one of the most perceptive people you’ve ever met, as you’ve learned in the past five years you’ve spent at this company.

“Long day?” Junhui swivels around in his chair as he catches you taking a break from your screen.

“Yeah,” you admit, glancing at the clock. Almost five. “Even longer when we get asked to fix all of the intern’s mistakes. How do you just forget to write a whole method?!”

“God, I hope Lee Chan never gets hired as a backend developer. Love the kid, but I’m not sure how he got through college with his code looking like this.”

“Hard agree.”

“Hey, do you have plans after? Me and the rest of the team are probably gonna get dinner together. None of the interns,” he clarifies with a grin. “We need some peace and quiet. I think Wonwoo’s genuinely at his final straw, he’s been downstairs with them all day.”

As tempting as that sounds — Junhui has a knack for finding the best spots in Seoul — you have something more important on your plate for the day.

“Maybe next time,” you decline. “I have to meet someone after work.”

“Oh?” A sly grin spreads across his face. “Someone special?”

“It’s not a date,” you insist, face heating up.

“I never asked if it was, Y/N, you’re just outing yourself at this point.”

“It’s not!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he teases, turning back around. “Keep me posted!”

You roll your eyes.

The end of the day couldn’t have come any slower. Usually, you’d get so engrossed in whatever you were working on that you’d end up staying late, but today you shock everyone by packing up when the clock hits five, bidding Junhui a good night as you almost run to leave the building.

(“Someone’s in a rush,” he remarks when you turn your computer off. “Don’t be late on a first date, it’s not very polite!”

“Fuck off,” you respond, when Seungcheol is safely out of earshot.)

The walk home almost freezes your fingertips, and you have to shove your hands deep into your pockets to keep them from going numb. You make a note to dress accordingly for the biting cold later.

At least the weather matches your mood today.

The idea of a hot shower turns out to be a little too inviting, though, because when you finally step out, hair wrapped in a towel, it’s 6:28, and you have a text from Jeonghan waiting to be opened.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: i’m here, i snagged a table in the back

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, pulling on an old sweater and some jeans. You don’t have time to fully dry your hair, so you just run your round brush through it a couple of times, hope for the best, and throw it into a claw clip, praying it stays up.

You’re officially twenty minutes late when you finally get to the cafe — it’s not too far from your apartment, thankfully, but you still had to book it — and you approach Jeonghan slightly panting and out of breath. 

(If Junhui was right and this was actually a date, you would be royally screwed.)

“Here, sit,” he pulls out your chair, a little alarmed by your flushed face. “Were you running?”

“Yeah. Sorry I’m late,” you answer, and then you look up at him and the air is knocked out of your lungs as if you weren’t already winded from getting there. He’s even more beautiful than the last time you saw him. “Wow, you…”

“I?”

You’re not even sure what the rest of that sentence was going to be, the words slipping out before you could even think about them. Snap out of it. 

“Nothing,” you say quietly.

“How have you been?”

“You already asked me that.”

“I want to know more.” He’s looking at you like he’s trying to memorize your features; it’s hard to ignore. 

“I don’t have anything interesting going on,” you deflect. “Tell me about what’s going on with you. You said you wrote a new song?”

Jeonghan’s face lights up when you say it. “I did. I spent around nine months rewriting and perfecting it. It’s kind of like my child, in a way.”

“Yoon Jeonghan, a father. I never thought I’d see the day.”

He laughs, and it feels like a part of your old selves is back. “Want to listen?”

You nod, and he passes you an AirPod and his phone. “Imperfect Love,” you read out loud. “That’s deep.”

“It came from a pretty raw place,” he confesses. “Something that’s kind of been on my mind for a while.”

“Something or someone?”

Jeonghan’s face reflects something akin to panic. “What are you talking about?”

“This seems like a song about unrequited love,” you deadpan. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“Well, it’s not,” he huffs. “Don’t assume things.”

“This is the kind of update I was waiting for. You didn’t tell me you’d found someone!”

“I didn’t!” he insists, concealing a smile. “Will you just stop asking questions and listen already?”

“Alright, Mr. Unlucky in Love,” you tease, securing the AirPod in your ear and pressing play.

The instrumentals are beautiful, and Jeonghan’s angelic voice fills your ears a few seconds later. You haven’t heard him sing in a long time, and you’d forgotten just how ethereal he sounds when he’s pouring his heart into the mic.

The sunlight that happily illuminates this dark world 

Becomes a star when night comes

Come down to me

There are many, many things shining in this world

But among them, you’re the only one that’s precious to me

Jeonghan is watching you nervously, like he’s anxious for what you will say. You make the mistake of catching his eyes, because immediately you falter — they are gorgeous, he is gorgeous, and it feels like you lose time with every second you spend admiring him.

Even if I can’t be the perfect weather for you

Will you still love me like this?

It feels like a silent plea — you wonder what kinds of things have happened to him in the past year that you missed, all the things you don’t know about. 

Together we become old and worn out

Even if you come to me, who’s useless

At the end of a shining day

I’m happy that it’s you every day

The song comes to an end, and you hand Jeonghan’s phone back to him. His eyebrows raise, like a question.

“Did you like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him honestly. “I love it.”

A smile breaks out on his face. “That’s good to hear.”

“I’m still convinced you have a secret crush that you’re not telling me about.”

“Oh, not with that again,” he grumbles, waving off your curious questions. 

What you don’t tell him is that you’ve missed hearing him sing and watching him perform, that the look in his eyes when he’s doing what he loves most is something you adore. There are a lot of things like that you want to say to him, and as good as the both of you are at acting like nothing’s wrong, the situation feels awfully different this time.

“Hey.” Jeonghan has a glint in his eye, the one he usually has when he’s up to something. “Do you wanna leave and go get tteokbokki and fried dumplings at the night market stands instead?”

Your favorites, from when you were a broke college student and couldn’t afford anything nicer. How did he still remember that?

“Yeah,” you say, already grabbing your things and standing. “Let’s go.”

You had forgotten that it was cold as fuck outside.

You had also forgotten that the food stalls were in the opposite direction of your house, so now you’re stuck walking twice the distance in the freezing weather. 

“Are you warm enough?” Jeonghan asks, a bit worried. Stop looking out for me, you want to scream at him. Stop caring. Stop making such a fool out of me.

“I am, but I know you’re not,” you scold instead. “I’ve been telling you for years to dress for the weather.”

“Eh, what’s a little bit of cold?” he jokes, but you catch him shivering violently out of the corner of your eye, and you can’t just watch as he suffers.

“Here.” You pull your scarf off of your neck and hold it out to him. “Wear it.”

“Are you su—”

“Wear it before I take it back.”

You wait until Jeonghan’s listened to you, the warm fabric wrapped around his neck. A part of you thinks you’ll always feel the urge to look after him.

Stop it.

“You still haven’t told me about yourself,” Jeonghan starts hesitantly. “I know I’ve probably missed a lot of things in the past few years.”

“Eight years,” you correct him. “We graduated and then you disappeared.”

“I didn’t disappear, things just got really hectic,” he tries to explain. “Like, all of a sudden everything was on my shoulders, and I had to spend all my time working towards what I wanted. That or it was all just gonna go to waste.”

“Right,” you leave it at that, not wanting to start an argument on the road. This always happens — you’ll run into Jeonghan somehow, you’ll somewhat reconcile, fight, make up, and then it’s radio silence from him again. A year after you graduated college, you stopped looking for news articles on him entirely, actively avoiding any headlines with his name in them. It hurt a little too much to bear. “Well, what do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

You suck in a breath at the quick response. 

“Yeonju’s doing well,” you start, even though he probably knows that already. “She has a cat now, actually. She adopted him a couple of months ago.”

“Really? What’s his name?”

“Mandu, because she says he’s round and fat like a dumpling.”

Jeonghan snorts. “That’s like when Josh told us his dog’s name was Bingsu.”

“Oh, I remember that,” you say, faintly reminded of his college roommate. “Um, there’s not much else, honestly. Junhui is still a major pain in my ass, that definitely hasn’t changed.”

“Your work friend, right? I thought you two got along pretty well?”

“Yeah, we do,” you admit. You don’t need to explain any further, because Jeonghan knows that your sarcastic remarks are reserved for those you cherish the most.

“It’s been a really long time since you introduced us,” he muses. “But I still remember him pretty clearly.”

He remembers you, too, you think to yourself, recounting all the times you’ve ranted to Junhui about all the times Jeonghan got on your very last nerve. Just not as fondly.

“Oh! Wonwoo actually joined the same company two years ago. I think I told you this already,” Jeonghan confirms with a nod, “But it’s really nice getting to see him again, I missed when we used to hang out in college.”

“Aw, that must be really nice.”

“And the three of us still work for Seungcheol,” you conclude.

“I remember him, too. The one with the huge ass biceps,” Jeonghan says, a bit miffed. “I don’t think he liked me very much.”

“He doesn’t like randoms coming in during work hours, which is what you did, Han.”

“Oh. Right.”

Despite his short response, you know Jeonghan is smiling to himself right now, and you kick yourself mentally for letting the decades-old nickname slip. The two of you may be on a truce right now, but that doesn’t mean you’ve forgiven him.

A few minutes later, the lanterns and lights of the night market come into view. A little piece of childhood memory burrows its way into your heart. The vendors and stalls may have changed, but you used to love visiting this street with Jeonghan when you were still students. 

“I really feel so old right now,” Jeonghan remarks as he follows you through the narrow walkways. “I feel like the last time I’ve been here was when we were eighteen.”

“It probably was,” you say. “Oh! Tteokbokki!”

You don’t even realize the way you’re holding on to the sleeve of Jeonghan’s sweater as you pull him along with you in excitement. He doesn’t say anything, just chuckles to himself as he walks behind you.

“Two cups, please,” you request the vendor when you finally get to the cart, and reach for your wallet. Jeonghan stops you before you can get to your pocket.

“No way,” he says firmly. “This one’s on me.”

“Jeonghan.”

“That voice isn’t working on me this time.” He hands the vendor a couple of bills with a friendly smile. “Just let me buy dinner tonight.”

You cross your arms. “No.”

“Why not? You had no problem doing it back in college.”

“Don’t bring that up now,” you say sharply, stung by the familiar memory. Jeonghan senses the shift in your attitude and drops the subject immediately.

“Wait here,” he tells you. “I’ll be back in a second.”

What are you supposed to do with yourself? Oh, you’re a mess, you realize, the way your feelings haven’t been in check for the entire evening. You were supposed to be so calm and collected, and now you’re anything but.

“Here you go,” the vendor hands you two steaming cups of the spicy rice cakes. “One for you, one for your friend.”

“Thank you.”

The man nods towards Jeonghan, making his way back through the sea of people. “Never let go of someone who cherishes you that much,” he says offhandedly, stirring the tteok in the pot.

You just blink, confused. “What?”

Before the vendor can answer, Jeonghan’s already caught up to you again. “There was nobody in line for fried dumplings,” he tells you excitedly. “Here, have some.”

“Thanks,” you say as you exchange with him for the tteokbokki, ignoring the awkward encounter you’ve just had. “We should probably get out of the way and find somewhere to sit down.”

“Yeah, we should.”

There are a few benches at the corner of the street, and you pick the empty one under one of the streetlamps, a hazy yellow glow cast over it. Sitting down, you bite into the first dumpling, the flavor flooding into your mouth.

“Jeonghan.”

“Yes?”

“Is this shrimp?”

“Yes?” He looks adorably confused in the dim light. “You prefer seafood over pork, right?”

Your heart feels like it’s beating at double the pace. “I do,” you reassure him. “It’s really good. Thank you.”

“Try the tteokbokki, too, it’s just the right level of spicy.”

“I will.”

Just being there and enjoying the food in silence reminds you of how easy it is to just be around Jeonghan. There’s no pressure to break the quiet; it’s comforting and peaceful. 

You watch him savor the tteokbokki sauce and smile to yourself when he winces slightly. He’s always had less of a spice tolerance than you.

“Jeonghan?”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to vanish on me again when you leave Seoul?”

The question stops him in his tracks. He doesn’t seem to have the words to answer, and the lack of a response makes your heart sink.

“Why are you thinking about that right now?” he says instead, chiding you gently. “Did you finish eating?”

The way you’re looking at him now, your eyes are imploring him. Please don’t make me empty promises again. 

“It’s rude to answer a question with another question.”

Jeonghan rakes a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “I’ve never vanished, Y/N, it’s just hard for me to leave my work that often,” he insists, “and besides, you’ve got Junhui and Yeonju and Wonwoo to entertain you in the meantime —”

“None of them are you!” Several people passing by glance over at you, but you can’t help that your voice is rising when you feel the anger bubbling up. “You’re my best friend, Jeonghan, do you have any idea how hard it’s been doing life without you?”

“Y/N, we’re past our youth,” he tries reasoning with you. “We don’t have to be attached at the hip all the time.”

Every word he says is like a knife to your chest. “You shouldn’t have asked to meet up today, then.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Jeonghan shuts his eyes, trying to think of the right words. “I just can’t be there for you all the time in the way that you want anymore. You’re stable, you have a solid job, but my livelihood depends on my music and whether people like me or not. That’s the harsh truth of it. And I’m not getting any younger, either.”

“I’m not asking you to be there for me all the time,” you snap. “All I ever wanted was the occasional message. A few updates. Whether you’re doing okay, how your life is going, things like that. Don’t give me bullshit excuses. I know you have thirty seconds to text me back letting me know that you’re alive.”

And stop playing with my heart, you want to add. Whether you’re aware of it or not.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan swears under his breath. “Y/N, let’s calm down and talk about this inside —”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down, Yoon Jeonghan.” Your fists are clenched right now. Jeonghan knows this about you; you don’t get angry quite often, but when you do, you are a force to be reckoned with. “It’s always a goddamn cycle with you. You show up, make all these promises, and then abandon me again. What am I supposed to do with that?”

You’re on the verge of tears, but you can’t cry in front of him. Anywhere but here.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he pleads with you. “I don’t know what more to say other than I’ve been trying my best, I really have been.”

You’re not having any of it. “Yeah, right,” you scoff, averting your eyes so you have time to blink the tears away. 

“I mean it. I want to be there for you, but…” he trails off, voice shaky. “It’s just been so difficult.”

“Save it, Jeonghan.” You don’t think you can be here for a minute longer without totally breaking down. “I should really get going now.”

“Y/N, wait —”

“If you took the subway, there’s a station down that street if you keep walking for a few minutes.”

“Wait,” Jeonghan insists, standing. “Let me at least walk you home.”

“No need,” you retort, turning around and setting off towards your apartment. It’s even colder now that it’s completely dark out, and you start to regret your choice of coat as your teeth chatter quietly. All you can do is thug it out for the remaining three blocks to your apartment building.

The wind stings your eyes and you tear up anyway, despite your attempts to keep it down for now. Why did you think today was going to go any better than every other time this has happened? 

Stupid. Your fault for thinking anything would have changed in eight years. 

It’s not until you approach the entrance to your building that you hear the quiet shuffling of footsteps. You whirl around, ready to fight, but you stop short when you see Jeonghan standing several feet behind you.

“Just to make sure you got back okay,” he says quietly, walking over to you. You accept gingerly when he places your scarf back in your hands. “It’s late.”

You don’t even know how to feel; you’re too high-strung with too many lines of thought in your brain at the same time. “Thank you.”

“One more thing.” Jeonghan hands you a small plastic bag. You peer inside.

“What is this?”

“Tiramisu,” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

“Oh,” you’re confused. “Why?”

It should make you even more furious that he has the audacity to give you a soft smile, but for some reason it doesn’t.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

The realization hits you belatedly — how did you manage to forget? — that you were so swamped with work commitments, it had totally slipped your mind today. (So that was why your phone had been constantly buzzing with notifications from Yeonju before you’d put it on silent.) 

Jeonghan’s gesture, though, comes as a complete surprise, and it starts to dissipate the irritation from earlier.

“You remembered.”

“Of course,” he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I never forgot.”

just friends, that's not enough for me

EIGHT YEARS AGO

Normally, you are not someone who is criminally inclined. 

However, it’s currently five in the morning on a day where you don’t have class until noon, so whoever is calling you at this time is most definitely going to end up six feet under.

You answer without checking who it is first, eyes still closed. “Hello?” 

“Happy birthday!”

“Huh?” You lift your head just to be sure you heard correctly. “Yoon Jeonghan, it’s five a.m!”

“I know!”

“Why are you awake?”

“To tell you happy birthday?”

“Thank you, but cut the crap,” you tell him.

“I pulled an all-nighter to finish a project,” he admits. “Worth it, though. I’m the first person who told you, right?”

“You keep forgetting I live with Yeonju,” you point out, glancing over at your sleeping roommate.

“Damn it, Choi Yeonju!”

You grimace at his loud exclamation. “Jeonghan?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor and let me go back to sleep.”

“Okay, but I’m waking you up at ten so you don’t skip your linear algebra class.”

“That class is at noon!”

“Yeah, and you take centuries to get ready, dumbass.”

When ten o’clock does roll around, you’re wide awake already. Yeonju is still fast asleep, so you try to get ready for class as quietly as possible.

jeonghan: i’m outside ur building

jeonghan: hurry up i’m hungry

you: ??? when u said u were gonna wake me up i thought u meant u would call

jeonghan: uhh surprise?

“Are you serious,” you mutter under your breath, haphazardly throwing an outfit on and rushing downstairs. Quickly, you press your key card against the reader and push the door open to the sight of Jeonghan leaning against the side wall.

“How long were you waiting?” 

“Long enough. God, you really take forever, but I guess you get a pass because it’s your birthday,” he says begrudgingly, gesturing for you to walk with him.

The weather is quite bleak, but the slight smile on Jeonghan’s face is enough to chase the dreary atmosphere away, like your very own sun.

“Did you sleep at all?” you question, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

“I tried, but by the time I finished the project it was already seven and Joshua was up, so I just didn’t bother. That guy’s a freak, I’m telling you. I don’t know anybody else who wakes up that early just to go to the gym.”

“Well, you don’t go at all. Maybe that’s why he has those nice muscles and you don’t.”

Jeonghan’s mouth drops open in surprise. “Are you kidding? Is this why you keep coming over? To ogle Joshua Hong’s arms?”

“Yeah, cause Joshua Hong is my best friend,” you deadpan. “Is it such a crime to just appreciate a nice set of muscles?”

“Okay, okay, stop talking about Josh when you’re with me and get in the car,” he urges, fishing out his keys. “Or we’ll be late and you won’t make it to that class.”

“I don’t even go half the time,” you point out. “And you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“What I can do is promise you will be happy and fed by approximately half past eleven.” Jeonghan starts the car, adjusting his mirrors. “Is that good enough for you?”

“Deal.”

It strikes you then, beneath the dim sunshine, how good he looks when he’s driving. His eyebrows are furrowed as he focuses on the road, humming along to the song playing through Bluetooth. For all the jokes you throw at him for never being seen at the gym, his arms are quite toned, subtly flexed as he makes a turn with one hand on the wheel.

God, you are so done for.

A few minutes later, Jeonghan pulls into a relatively empty lot. The building is quite unassuming, but you recognize this cafe as the one you frequent during exam season for your coffee fix.

“I love this place!” you exclaim, beaming at him. “How did you know?”

“‘Cause you never shut up about it,” he quips back, grinning.. “Stay here, I’ll just be a minute.”

You hum quietly to yourself as you wait for him to come back, content where you are. There couldn’t have been a better start to your day, aside from Jeonghan’s early morning call, and you think you’d be happy to spend the day just like this, peacefully with him and your closest friends.

In truth, you aren’t really sure how to navigate things with Jeonghan at the moment. Your relationship has always been labeled as strictly platonic, but lately there have been things that make you want to think otherwise. A few stolen glances, the way he looks out for you a little extra… you think you’re going insane. 

That, and the way your heart has been reacting when you make eye contact with him lately has been a bit unsettling.

(“Don’t be so delusional,” Yeonju had told you a week ago. “You have a lot to lose here if anything happens. Plus, it’s Yoon Jeonghan, everyone thinks he’s flirting with them.”

“Yeah,” you’d replied flatly. “You’re right.”)

But maybe you’re allowed to be a little selfish. Maybe those sunlit smiles and most vulnerable moments are memories reserved just for you.

The car door opens again, and Jeonghan pokes his head in, handing you a plastic bag as he gets in. 

“Sustenance,” is all he says. “Eat before you go to class or I’ll have to deal with your hangry whining after.”

His words sound annoyed, but his tone is soft with you, like it usually is. You flash him a grateful smile before pulling the boxes out.

“What’s this?”

“Avocado toast, but yours has egg on it.” He wrinkles his nose with displeasure at the combination. “Plus a little sweet treat for your caffeine addiction.”

“This is beautiful,” you hold up the tiramisu box. “The caffeine is speaking to me, Hannie. We are one and the same.”

“One would think you’re on drugs.”

“One would think living with a chemistry major would teach you that caffeine is a drug,” you tease, sinking your teeth into the golden toast. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you were until now — maybe you shouldn’t have skipped dinner last night. “Wow, this is good.”

“It is,” Jeonghan agrees, “but I’ll stick with no eggs for now.”

“You’re just ignorant and have bad taste.”

“Again, free pass only because it’s your birthday.” Jeonghan waits for you to swallow, then asks, “So, does twenty-one feel any different?”

“Nope,” you say decidedly. “Why would it? The only thing that’s changed is that drinking is legal now.”

“Oh, and you can gamble.”

“Right, but I don’t have enough savings to do that.”

Jeonghan laughs to himself at a stray memory. “Remember when I turned twenty-one? I’ve never had a night more disastrous than that one.”

“I do remember! Anyone would assume you were a raging alcoholic,” you snicker. “Even Soonyoung felt the need to sober up and help me get you back to your place. Do you know how impossible that is for him?”

Jeonghan looks like he’s questioning his whole life. “Yeah, that is pretty bad,” he admits. “Good thing it hasn’t happened since and I’m a responsible alcohol enjoyer now.”

“You drank a whole bottle of soju before your exam last week because you ‘needed to pregame’ or you’d fail it.”

“... Right.”

The two of you eat in silence, careful not to drop crumbs in his car, enjoying the midday quiet with each other’s company and nothing else. It’s moments like these with him that you cherish the most.

Yeonju’s Don’t be so delusional echoes in your head, like a silent rebuke.

“Hey, we should start heading back,” Jeonghan says, glancing at the time. “Let this be the day that Y/N graces the lecture hall with her presence.”

You groan, not wanting to spend another hour and a half trying not to doze off listening to who is possibly the most boring professor at your entire university. Jeonghan pats your back empathetically.

“It’s okay,” he consoles you, “Just think about how you’ll feel later when it’s all over and done with.”

“I’ll feel like it was a huge waste of time and I could have just asked Wonwoo to catch me up,” you grumble. 

Jeonghan’s smile falters a little bit at the mention of your classmate, one of Soonyoung’s friends and therefore a part of the friend group. You still can’t figure out why Jeonghan isn’t too fond of him, but you  just assume they haven’t had the opportunity to connect as much and brush it off.

“He got me through data structures last semester,” you offer, trying to defend your point. “Or I’d probably have failed.”

“Right, I remember,” Jeonghan says absentmindedly. You don’t say anything more until you’re back on campus again, picking up on his sensitive mood. When you start making your way to your lecture hall, he follows you, and you let him.

“I’ll walk you to class, I have to print something out at the student center, anyways,” he explains, bag on one shoulder. “Also, you left this in the car. Eat it after class, or whenever.”

You take the plastic bag he hands you, the faint scent of coffee filling your nose. “Thanks.”

Jeonghan fills your ears with silly stories about his friends over the short walk and you listen carefully, always happy to hear about the boys. It’s been a while since you’ve seen them anyways; you’ve been swamped with work, and time that all of you have free together is quite rare.

“I should go in now,” you tell him when you reach the hall. You wish you didn’t have to be here, but you might as well, and Jeonghan can easily read the annoyance written on your face. He pats your shoulder gently.

“It’s okay,” he consoles you. “Come over later so we can all eat cake and listen to you rant about your god-awful professor.”

“Okay.”

“And so you can get an eyeful of Joshua’s arms, you freaking pervert.”

You gasp. “Am not!” you screech, punching his arm.

“Ow!”

“Take it back!”

“Not afraid to speak my truth,” Jeonghan says instead, feigning injury. “This is literally abuse.”

You roll your eyes. “Get out.”

“Go in.”

“Fine,” you huff, pulling open the double doors, but you look back over your shoulder before you let them close behind you. “See you later?”

Jeonghan nods, a twinkle in his eye. 

(You won’t know it now, but this is the look on his face that you’ll remember for the rest of your life.) 

 “See you later.”

Choi Yeonju is, you discover, the lightweight of all lightweights.

That title had belonged to Soonyoung up until now, but tonight even he’s watching her in disbelief from where he’s perched on Joshua and Jeonghan’s couch.

“I only gave her a shot,” he promises you, eyes big and pleading. “I swear on my life.”

“I know,” you sigh, grabbing her sleeve and pulling her away from the wall she’s about to faceplant into. “It’s okay, I’ve got an eye on her.”

“Sorry,” Soonyoung offers sheepishly. “I know you were planning on getting wasted tonight.”

You were not, in fact, planning on that at all. “Who told you that?”

“Jeonghan?”

“That evil bastard.”

The evil bastard in question is currently deeply immersed in a card game with a couple of others at the small kitchen table. The subtle flush on his face tells you he’s a couple of drinks in, and if you squint enough, you can see the silhouette of cards hidden in the sleeve of his jacket. Typical.

“Y/N!” Yeonju taps your shoulder urgently. “I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

She grins. “I wanna go to the bathroom.”

“Alright, come on. You gotta stand up,” you inform her gently when she doesn’t budge from her spot on the sofa.

“Comfy,” is all she says, mumbling into the furniture.

“Do you still need to go to the bathroom?”

“No.”

Soonyoung just looks at you in total confusion and shrugs. 

“Nothing to do about it until she asks again,” he says before sinking into the couch beside her. He still looks relatively sober — sober enough to handle the situation if Yeonju decides to walk into a wall again — so you tell him you’ll be right back and decide to check in on the game going on.

You walk in on a crime scene.

“You!” Seungkwan throws an accusing finger at Jeonghan, who you can tell is playing innocent through his surprised expression. “You rigged the game!”

“I didn’t do anything! I won fair and square!”

“Count the cards,” Seungkwan tells Wonwoo vengefully. “There won’t be fifty-two, I’m telling you!”

Jeonghan stands suddenly, laying his hand on the table. Everyone else is too busy yelling amongst themselves, and Wonwoo seems to be content with watching them argue, but you catch the way Jeonghan slips the cards in his sleeve into the pile unassumingly.

“Excuse me, boys,” he says smugly, “but I’m going to go on a little victory walk. Don’t mind me, enjoy!”

Seungkwan grumbles, but lets him go in favor of helping Seokmin back into the chair he’s just fallen off of. In the meantime, Jeonghan sidles up to you, faintly smelling of tequila.

“You seem very sober,” he observes.

“I am,” you laugh. “Not entirely, but sober enough to notice the cards you stashed during the game.”

Jeonghan’s face morphs into one of surprise, then mirth. “Shh,” he winks, placing a finger on your lips. That alone short-circuits your brain, so you nearly miss his next words. “It can be our little secret.”

“Oh, you are tipsy tipsy,” you murmur, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know if you’re up for that victory walk you were talking about.”

“I am! I’m so up for it,” he announces, tucking his arm in yours. “Let’s go take a walk outside.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“What’s four plus four?”

He rolls his eyes. “Ninety-two,” he says sarcastically. “Please, I’m not a lightweight like the rest of our friends.”

You cast a glance at the couch; Soonyoung has been roped into listening into whatever story Yeonju’s telling him very animatedly, sitting attentively with his back unnaturally straight. He looks a little scared of her energetic narration, which is a first for someone like him.

They should be fine, right? You don’t plan on being gone for long — usually you wouldn’t think twice about leaving Soonyoung and Yeonju together, but in their current state you’re not sure how chaotic they’ll get.

“They’ll be fine.” Jeonghan mirrors your thoughts as if he’s read your mind. His voice feels a little too close, like his lips are right by your ear. Too close, too close — you’re faintly aware of your breathing accelerating, heart running on sheer adrenaline.

By the time you snap out of it, he’s already at the door, turning to find you when he realizes you’re not next to him. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” is all you can manage before you grab your coat off the hook and follow him out the door. A part of you wishes Yeonju was sober so she could slap the delusion out of you.

Jeonghan opts for the stairs — “We’re only on the second floor!” — and is waiting patiently at the main door for you. The smile he greets you with is blinding, and his eyes crinkle a little more when you return it. 

“Did you bring your keys?”

“Right here.” Jeonghan pats his pocket reassuringly and pulls the door open. “After you, m’lady.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” you laugh, reveling in the moment. 

It’s windy outside, and you glance over at Jeonghan, satisfied to see that he’s dressed warmly for once. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and for a man his size, his thick sweater is draped over his body in a way that makes him look a little smaller. It’s adorable, and it just makes you want to reach over and squish his cheeks.

“You’re awfully quiet for a man who just won a game against Boo Seungkwan,” you tease gently. Jeonghan chuckles, rubbing his hands together to warm them up.

“Nothing new,” he says. “Seungkwan just has bad strategy and won’t admit it.”

“Or you just enjoy cheating a little too much.”

He gives you a knowing smile. “Touché.”

You’re not exactly sure where you’re going; you don’t think Jeonghan does, either, but the two of you fall in step together perfectly on the sidewalk. It’s not too late yet, maybe nine or ten, and the streets are relatively crowded, as expected for a college city.

“Do you think we’ll be really different when we’re thirty?”

You look at Jeonghan, a bit surprised at the question. “What do you mean?”

“Like, we’re twenty-one now,” he explains, “Remember when we were sixteen? We had so many ideas about what we were gonna be, and we’re already there. Five years passed so quickly.”

You nod, reminiscent of your childhood days. “We’re gonna hit thirty before we know it.”

“Do you think I’ll be bald by thirty?”

“If you are, I’ll take lots of pictures of you and your shiny head,” you joke. “For memories.”

“Noo, not my hair,” Jeonghan laments theatrically. “My gorgeous, gorgeous hair.”

You can’t even counter that, because it’s true: Jeonghan must have won the gene pool because his hair has always been soft and silky. It’s longer now than it used to be, curling a little bit just under his ears and brushing the back of his neck.

“Soonyoung’s been campaigning for you to go platinum blond,” you inform him. “He keeps saying if you do it, he’ll dye his whole head bright yellow.”

“Highlighter Soonyoung is really not something I want to see.”

The more the wind picks up, the tighter Jeonghan has his arm looped around yours. His lips are pursed, like he’s preoccupied with something else.

“Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“Are we still gonna be friends when we’re thirty years old?”

The subtle, vulnerable tone in his voice surprises you a little bit. Drunk words are sober thoughts, you suppose.

You try to cheer him up, saying, “Why, did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”

“No,” he shakes his head firmly. “Everything is so much easier with you.”

Don’t be delusional, don’t be delusional, is the mantra in your head as you attempt to ignore your rapid heartbeat. The truth is that you agree — the way Jeonghan just gets you makes things so uncomplicated and free.

It’s been this way since middle school, when twelve-year-old you found home in the boy who always helped you sneak snacks from your desk during class when the teacher wasn’t watching. 

Jeonghan has always been the first person you think of in a sticky situation; he’s always been reliable, above all, because he knows you would do the same for him without even needing to think about it. He’s been by your side for so long, you can’t even picture what a life without him would look like now.

Your next words would never see the light of day had Jeonghan been sober, but you suppose you can get away with erring on the side of honesty.

“Me too,” you tell him quietly, holding onto him just a little bit tighter. “I like life a little better when it’s with you.”

because i love you, because saying i love you isn't enough

PRESENT DAY

The office is quiet when it’s late at night; there aren’t many people who enjoy staying past their stated hours, but you figure it can’t hurt to finish some additional tasks when you don’t really have much to go home to. You can’t remember the last time you had a day to yourself without worrying about deadlines; the lines of code haunt you in your sleep and fill every waking hour. Every night spent working overtime is a testament to your determination, though it crumbles it a little each time.

Today, though, you’re joined by Junhui and Wonwoo, the three of you working under the dim light. The rest of your team packed up and left hours ago, so it’s just you on this floor of the building.

“I feel like my eyes are melting in their sockets,” Junhui complains, stretching for the first time in what you think is a solid eight hours. “I don’t know how Wonwoo does it.”

“He’s a machine,” you joke. He’s got headphones on, most probably noise canceling, so you know he can’t hear you two. (Or he’s choosing not to.) “I just don’t want to go home with this stuff unfinished because I know I won’t stop thinking about it all night.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve pulled an all-nighter in the office.”

“Unfortunately.”

Junhui frowns. “You need to take time for yourself,” he expresses. You let him lecture you, even though he’s younger. “Do stuff that you enjoy that doesn’t involve writing code. You know, enrich your personal life.”

“Maybe,” you sigh, putting your head in your hands. “There’s barely any time as of now.”

“Speaking of personal lives, I still can’t believe you won’t tell me about your date,” he sulks. “You’ve always come back with stories about your dates.”

“There haven’t even been that many,” you say at the same time Wonwoo turns around with his headphones off of one ear, asking, “Date? Really?”

You give the man a look. “You didn’t hear us say your name, but that was what caught your attention?”

“Well, Jun’s always talking, but the last time you went on a date was two years ago, so this is news to me.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Junhui reasons. “Everyone has bad dates. It’s a universal experience.”

“Okay, first of all, it was not a date,” you clarify. “I just met up with a friend from college.”

This piques Wonwoo’s interest. “Wait, really? Who?”

“Right, I keep forgetting you guys went to college together,” Junhui mutters under his breath.

“Did you see Yeonju again?”

“It was nobody,” you lie through your teeth, kicking yourself internally for your choice of words. As much as both men know about your ongoing tug-of-war situation with Jeonghan, you don’t really want to bring it up in conversation, and definitely not now of all times. “It went fine, just some catching up.”

“So it wasn’t a date?”

“You really need to stop believing everything Junhui tells you without fact checking it first.”

“Damn,” he says. “And we thought you were finally getting some action.”

“Wonwoo!”

The conversation is interrupted by the low rumble of your stomach in the few seconds of silence that pass afterwards. Both men turn to look at you expectantly.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” you admit, a little embarrassed. “I’m starving.”

“I’ll order takeout,” Wonwoo volunteers, already reaching for his phone. “Is kimchi fried rice okay with you guys?”

“Fine by me.”

“With pork?” Junhui asks hopefully.

“Done.”

The three of you promptly get back to work, aiming to maximize the amount of work you get done before the food arrives and you inevitably break focus. By the time the delivery notification goes off on Wonwoo’s phone, you’ve knocked off about three quarters of your to-do list for the day.

Good enough, you reassure yourself, pulling the sticky note off of your desk and flicking it into the trash can. 

Junhui eats in a record time of ten minutes — you swear you’ve never seen him scarf down food this fast before — and starts packing up at his desk, dropping off a couple of notes on Seungcheol’s desk for tomorrow morning’s meeting.

“My girlfriend is going to be so upset if I’m not home soon,” he says ruefully, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “Take care, guys! And thanks for dinner, Wonwoo, I owe you one.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

You and Wonwoo finish not too long after, and you take your time cleaning up the place, making sure everything is thrown away and in its place. 

“Are you ready to lock up and go?”

“Yeah, let’s head out.”

It’s not until you’re in the elevator, heading to the parking garage, that Wonwoo speaks up again. A little hesitantly at first, but the concern in his tone is still evident.

“Hey, has everything been good with you lately?”

“Hm?” You look at him curiously, wondering what it was that made him ask. “Yeah, why?”

He shrugs, looking down at you through thick-rimmed glasses. “Just haven’t checked in with you in a bit. Seungcheol’s needed me all over the place lately, so it’s been a while since I caught up with you guys.”

“Right, you’ve been in back to back meetings with the design team,” you muse. “Seolhwa was talking about how chaotic it’s been in the restroom earlier.”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty tough.”

The elevator opens with a ding! and you follow him out, fishing for your keys that are probably somewhere in one of your pockets.

“I parked a little far,” you tell him, “so I’ll get going now. But I’ll see you at tomorrow’s meeting, right?”

Wonwoo just looks at you gently, like he’s seeing right through you. 

“Jeonghan’s the one you met up with, isn’t he?”

You freeze. “What?”

“I had a feeling, but it was a little more obvious when you started getting defensive,” he chuckles. “Plus, I think you forget I’ve known you for nearly a decade now.”

You allow yourself to breathe, relaxing the taut muscles in your neck. “I didn’t want to make it awkward,” you admit. “I know you said you guys still keep in touch sometimes. I don’t want to make it weird.”

Wonwoo raises his eyebrows. “Just for birthdays and things like that. We weren’t really that close in college, either.”

Not really knowing what to say, you stay silent, eyes glued to the ground. He seems to sense this and drops the matter, reaching over to pat your shoulder.

“I won’t pry,” he says lightly, “But if you ever want to talk about it, just know you can always call up an old friend.”

You smile. “Thanks, Wonwoo.”

“Take care, Y/N. Get home safe.”

The drive home is numbing. The playlist you have on dulls into background noise as you focus on the road, fighting the urge to yawn. It’s nearly eleven o’clock at night, and all you want is to be back in your bed.

At the back of your mind, all you can think about is the text you woke up to this morning.

yoon jeonghan: hey, i just wanted to tell you tomorrow is my last day in seoul 

yoon jeonghan: i don’t know if you want to see me or not, but i’ll be at semicolon cafe working for most of the day. pls drop by if you have some free time. i really miss you.

So typical of him, to leave it up to you to go find him. And yet, you would — if it came down to it, you would go to the ends of the earth if he asked you to. 

Yeonju would be furious if you told her you were even considering it, you scold yourself. After all, she’d only told you to speak to him once for your own peace of mind. Last week should have given you all the closure you needed. 

Still, your conscience is swayed at the idea of being able to see him again. 

You shake the thoughts out of your head, as if the subtle action could erase the pain and longing you’ve felt for the past eight years. 

The traffic light turns green. You step on the gas and don’t look back.

even if i can't be the perfect weather for you, will you still love me like this?

SIX YEARS AGO

Jeonghan has been in the studio for hours.

Nothing seems to sound right, and the frustration makes him want to pull his hair out. He can’t even remember the last time he got out of the chair, but he doesn’t want to lose even a little bit of whatever workflow he’s managed to maintain while he’s been in here.

Occasionally, when the weather is just a little dull and time seems to tick by too slowly, he wonders if he made the right choice. Maybe he should have stuck with his career, actually put his degree to use, instead of setting it aside in the name of passion.

He’s vocalized these thoughts to his manager many times, and Jihoon is awfully good at raising his spirits, but the self doubt seeping into his soul is very hard to ignore.

Reluctantly, he presses the play button again, whatever he’s conjured up in the last couple of hours playing in his headphones again. It doesn’t sound any better this time. 

Yes, he could swallow his pride and ask Jihoon for help, but after a year and a half of unsuccessful ventures in the music industry, he wants to be able to do something on his own.

Prove himself; to Jihoon, the world, and you.

Jeonghan will never forget your only words to him when he’d first revealed his plan to switch career paths, just a month or two before graduation. 

(“I always believe in you,” you’d said, following it up with a comforting hug. 

“Always?”

“Always.”)

And when you said that with such conviction, placing all of that trust and belief in his hands, he knew there was no way he could turn back on what he’d set his sights on. In truth, on days where things just seem so bleak, you are his strength, and he wishes he could tell you that.

But when your name comes through on his phone, he falters.

What is he supposed to say? All he can give is excuses, that nothing’s really worked, nothing has panned out in his favor yet. As it is, the two of you haven’t spoken that much since graduating, both of you occupied with your own goals and careers, and at times like these he feels your absence a little extra.

Is this what it means to grow up and grow apart?

For now, he ignores the buzzing, telling himself he’ll come back when he’s snagged his first real achievement. You’ll be proud of him, and he’ll finally make something of himself.

Jihoon walks into the room, closing the door quietly, right when he’s about to listen to the track for maybe the hundredth time.

“Oh, hey.” Jeonghan can hear the exhaustion in his own voice. “What’s up?”

“Wondering when the last time you slept was.” Jihoon sinks into the chair beside him, trying to lighten the mood. “You look like a zombie.”

“Yeah, I feel like one.”

“You need to spend less time in here,” Jihoon advises gently. “Or you’re going to lose your mind. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

“I just can’t figure out what it is I’m missing,” Jeonghan sighs, evidently frustrated. “It’s like, almost there, but not really. It’s been killing me for days.”

“You know, these things do take time.”

“Or maybe I’m just not cut out for this and I should just go work for a news channel instead.”

Jihoon watches him carefully, picking up on his slumped shoulders and tired eyes. “And then you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you held on just a little bit longer. Do you really want that?”

Jeonghan doesn’t really know what else to say. He’s been hearing the same things from everyone around him — his parents, his sister; everyone talks of a future where he’s already succeeded, but that isn’t set in stone. Nothing is promised, he knows.

“I need a miracle,” he mumbles instead.

“You need to eat,” Jihoon corrects. “I just placed an order for dinner, and I know you like sundubu-jjigae, so you have no excuse to bail on me this time.”

Jeonghan considers this for a moment, then gives in. “Fine,” he says, “but I can’t stay too long.”

“Good.” Jihoon rises, and then places a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “I’m proud of you. You’ve been working really hard.”

“Thank you.”

He’s alone again, when the door closes behind the shorter man. It’s something he’s had to get used to; he’s learned to rely on himself over the past year or so, but when the reality of loneliness sinks in, it breaks his heart just a little. 

Even more so knowing that it’s his fault that he’s pushed everyone away, including you.

Your name is still burned into Jeonghan’s brain, and his fingers itch to respond, but he ignores the urge. His phone is left forgotten as he slips his headphones on again, tinkering with the unfinished track.

And the thought of you dissolves into the music.

we used to be best friends, i remember you said you can be yourself when i'm around

PRESENT DAY

Today is the day that Choi Seungcheol learns that you are full of surprises.

In all your five years of working for him, he’s never once had you call in sick for work or ask for a day off. You’ve always been hard-working, maybe too much at times, but he sounds like he definitely didn’t anticipate this.

“Oh,” is all he says when you request the morning off. “Yeah, sure. Are you feeling alright?”

“Not really, but I will be before the client meeting at three, so I’ll be present for that.”

“Oh, all right. We’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

It weighs on your conscience that the first time you request time off also happens to be the first time you blatantly lie to your boss, but you’ve already deliberated this enough with Yeonju over call last night.

(“I’ve been such an honest worker,” you said dramatically, “and now I’m running all that to the ground.”

“Don’t be so theatrical. Choi Seungcheol can afford to give you half a day of paid leave.”)

Now that you’ve settled that, you grab your heavy winter coat, setting out into the morning cold. Damn Yoon Jeonghan for making you move your whole day around for him. You had predicted correctly that Yeonju would berate you for it — you sat through a lecture over the phone last night — but that hadn’t deterred your resolve to see him again.

Who knows? His behavior is so erratic that even you, who knew him like the back of your hand at one point, can’t predict him anymore. Today could very well be the last time you see him for another few years until he decides he has the time for you again.

Whatever, you huff to yourself as you walk briskly, knowing that as upset as you get, the soft spot you harbor for him will never go away.

You had worried that it would be a little too early, since it’s only eight in the morning, but you have no problem finding Jeonghan in the sea of caffeine-deprived corporate workers getting their fix in the small establishment. He’s engrossed in his laptop, and he doesn’t realize you’re there until you take the seat across from him, waiting for him to look up.

“Oh,” is all he says, pushing his screen down. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

You sigh. “Yeah, I didn’t think I would, either.”

Jeonghan gives you a sorrowful look, hair fluffy like a halo around his face. “I’m trying, I really am.”

“Jeonghan —”

“I’m juggling so many things at once,” he says quietly. “And I never wanted you to think any less of me. I wanted you to be proud of me..”

“I was. I still am.”

“But I still haven’t done anything.” He sounds more agitated as he speaks. “I haven’t gotten anywhere, I’ve barely made a name for myself. Nothing I do is paying off.”

“You’re trying, though,” you tell him. It saddens you to see him like this. It’s not often that Jeonghan talks about how he feels, especially not now that you’ve grown so distant. “And you don’t have to go off and accomplish great things for me to be proud of you. I already am.”

He’s quiet, like he’s dwelling on something.

“I’m sorry,” he says a few seconds later. “It’s just all been such a mess.”

“That’s okay.”

In the silence between those two words are many more that don’t need to be spoken for him to understand. You’re doing okay. Everything will turn out okay.

“I wish things could go back to the way they were,” he says again, eyes a little shiny when he looks back at you. 

Nostalgia fills your brain, all of those treasured memories with him resting in a well-lit corner of your heart. 

“You know, it really hurts, Han, to keep doing this push and pull with you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“Don’t apologize,” he laughs wistfully, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I never meant to hurt you, Y/N, honestly. And I’m really trying to be better about it. Things are looking up now, I think. It’s getting a little easier than before.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I knew you could do it.”

“How…” Jeonghan starts tentatively. “How long are you here for?”

“I’m not sure,” you reply, fidgeting with one of your bracelets. “Not too long.”

“Are you going to have something to eat?” An olive branch.

“I have food I meal-prepped at home.” A subtle denial.

The silence is loud. You try to think of something, anything to say to fill it, but you come up blank. There’s not much else to be said in the fraught air between the two of you. Not now, anyways.

“I’m sorry, I should let you get back to work,” you say suddenly, eyes landing on his half shut laptop. “I didn’t mean to take time out of your day.”

“That’s okay,” he says softly. “I’m really glad I got to see you.”

“Have a safe trip to… wherever you’re going.”

He chuckles. “Just Jeju, but thank you.”

Before you leave, you reach for the scarf loosely wrapped around your neck — your favorite one you’ve had since college, the plaid cream-colored one — and you set it down on the table. He just looks at you questioningly.

“Why…?”

“It’s cold,” you say with a faint smile. “You haven’t changed, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“Thank you.”

You take the time to memorize him — the curve of his face, the soft look in his eyes, the one reserved for you and the ones he holds close. If you could etch his features in your brain here and now, you would.

“Well,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Don’t be a stranger, Han. The next time I see your name, it better be a call from you instead of another news headline.”

Jeonghan nods, eyes forming crescents. “I’ll do my best.”

And there is something to be said about the love in looking back, for sure, but there is also love in not looking back, in choosing to keep your eyes trained on the path before you. There is love in knowing your weaknesses, that if you turn around you might not be able to walk away after all. 

You don’t release the breath you’re holding until you walk out the door. It’s raining, you realize with a start, the previously clear sky clouded over. It seems that your overcast heart has been mirrored by the earth.

The rhythmic droplets provide a strange sense of comfort as you let yourself get soaked, for lack of an umbrella. It works in your favor, anyway, because nobody will assume anything’s amiss if your face is already drenched.

Pit, pat. The smell of wet soil rises in your nostrils, and you let the tears fall.

no matter where i am in the world, i'll say it's you

FOUR YEARS LATER

The lights are blinding, and the sounds of the camera shutters are incessant. But this is the life Jeonghan has always dreamed of, so he doesn’t dare complain.

In truth, he doesn’t care for a lot of the interviews he’s been asked to do — he can’t be bothered by the mundane, mind-numbing questions he gets asked over and over again. Nothing ticks him off like the insensitive digs into his personal life they always ask him, searching for information he doesn’t wish to disclose.

But he does it, anyway, because what choice does he really have? It’s good for your image, Jihoon always tells him, adding another event to his schedule. It’s for your public platform.

“So, you’ve come out with another hit single,” the interviewer starts, beaming at him. His teeth are so artificially white, they seem to reflect the bright studio lights. “How does it feel to accomplish such a success yet again?”

“It’s really great,” Jeonghan answers honestly. “I’m very grateful to my manager, producer, and my beloved family. And, of course, all of the wonderful fans. I couldn’t have done any of this without them.”

“A touching answer as always, Jeonghan-ssi.” The man flashes a smile at the cameras. “Your new single To You was really well received by fans, especially for its fresh and passionate take on what it feels like to be in love.”

The blazer feels stiff now, under the heat of the lights. Jeonghan tries not to dwell too deeply on the true inspiration for the song he’d written late at night a couple years ago, overcome by his own heart.

“I’m really glad that everyone’s been enjoying it so much. That really was the intention,” he says, “to have a song that makes you feel like you’re floating.”

“And it does!” the interviewer laughs. “A lot of viewers really appreciated the sincerity of feelings that was conveyed through the song. Which raised the question; have you ever been in love before?”

Something akin to a late realization suddenly hits Jeonghan right there in the hot seat, under all those lights and cameras. His hand comes up to toy with the end of the scarf he’s wearing, a keepsake of treasured memories.

“Maybe,” he says with a wistful smile.

Wherever you are in the world right now, there’s a small part of him that dares to hope you’re watching.

“Maybe I have.”

thank you for reading! if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear it :) much love, ashi xx

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request the Itoshi brothers and Bachira with a ballerina reader?

“You can’t possibly be serious.”

Rin didn’t know a lot about relationship and girls, but he still knew when he said that, he crossed a line.

“Oh really.” [Y/N] snapped back at him. Arms crossed across her chest. Glaring at him with that fiery determination Rin usually respected, but now was a little scared of. “So you admit you think my training is BS compared to your training?”

The two of them had been on very intense practice schedules as of late. Rin training up to prepare for his next match and move up, and [Y/N] training for their upcoming performance and hopefully be scouted for prima in a company. They were stressed out, fried, and exhausted. And what do exhausted people do when they are exhausted? Compare their exhaustion so they make sure that their complaints are justified as they are the only one, in the whole wide world, who could be this exhausted.

“I didn’t say it was ‘BS’. I’m just saying you can’t possibly compare what I have to do to what you have to do. The weight training. The cardio.”

“The stretching. The vaults.”

“The practice matches. The strategy management.”

“Learning every step in the performance, even if it isn’t yours, to memory. Being lifted almost 8 feet in the air and hoping your partner can hold so you don’t break your leg, or your neck.”

“The ice baths.”

“Pointe shoes.”

“Having to deal with Isagi!”

The couple growled at each other before [Y/N] finally snapped. “Fine! You think it’s so easy, you do it!”

“Fine!”

Rin would live to regret that.

The next day, to foolishly prove a point, Rin went through [Y/N]’s whole workout schedule with them. The stretching, the vaults, the practice, the lifts. He wouldn’t let himself be lifted, nor wear pointe shoes, but by the end of the day his body hurt in new ways he didn’t even know were possible. “Still think it’s so easy?”

Rin looked up from the floor he was laying on up at [Y/N]. “Fine. I take it back.”

She smiled and knelt down beside him. “Well, I appreciate that. People think because ballet is all pretty costumes and fluid movements that it’s calm & easy. They don’t appreciate the work that goes into it.”

“I’m sorry.” He realized he was doing that. Belittling their hard work.

Rin sat up and took a sip out of his water bottle. “Are you going to do my training tomorrow then?”

“Sure. What’s fair is fair.” She agreed. “But no weights. I can’t bulk up anymore of Madam Costume Maker will murder me.”

Rin scoffed. “We’ll just do an easy day for you then. If you can’t handle it.”

She punched him in the shoulder, but Rin was too tired to even feel it.

One thing that people don’t tell you when you become a professional athlete is that it’s not just about the games anymore. It’s the press.

Sae sighed as he came back to his hotel room. Completely drained from having to deal with people all day and answer their silly questions. He just wanted to play football. Why did he have to tell everyone about his fitness strategy or what brand of saltines he liked?

As he was taking off his coat his phone rang and Sae answered it. “Hello.”

“Thank you for the flowers.”

A small smile tugged at Sae’s lips as he heard [Y/N]’s voice. “Of course.” With his game coming up, he was not in town for [Y/N]’s opening night. He felt bad about it, which was strange, but being professionals in their art sometimes they had to make sacrifices. That didn’t mean he couldn’t make an effort. “How was the show?”

“Good. Early critic reviews seem to be positive.” Of course they were with [Y/N] as the prima. “I wish you could have seen it.”

“I will.” Sae explains that he paid someone to film their performance. He had gotten special permission and everything from the company; with a hefty donation. “I’ll watch it later.”

“You sound tired.”

“I am.” He confessed.

“Poor baby,” [Y/N] cooed. Even though she was the one that went through the grueling physicality of dancing, she still seemed more concerned for him. “Why don’t you take a hot bath and get some sleep then?”

“They don’t believe in baths here.” Or at least his hotel room didn’t.

“A shower then. I’ll see you next week?”

“Of course.”

Sae hung up the phone and sighed again. Still tired, but a little refreshed from talking to [Y/N].

He showered and went to bed as suggested. Getting a goodnight sleep for another press tour tomorrow before the game. When he woke up that morning there was a knock at his door and a delivery from room service. A hearty breakfast of an egg white omelet, fresh fruit, and salty seaweed tea. The kind of breakfast he needed but would never get for himself. After accepting delivery, Sae noticed a card on the silver tray and quickly read it.

:Do your best: was all it said, but Sae knew who it was from.

He sat in his hotel room and ate his breakfast in silence. Watching [Y/N]’s performance on TV. Just because they had to make sacrifices didn’t mean that they couldn’t make the effort.

Bachira had been obsessed with ballerina’s ever since his mother took him to see a show once at Christmas.

The bright costumes. The spins. The music. It always excited him.

Dating [Y/N] was almost like being in the show. Helping them with their choro. Coming to rehearsals to see them practice. Bachira had probably seen the show a hundred times before actually opening night, and yet he was as nervous & excited as the actual dancers.

“You’re going to do great [Y/N]-chan~!” He whispered to her backstage.

“I don’t know…it’s a much bigger crowd than I expected….”

“That’s ok.” Bachira told her. “They’re all just faceless blobs in a crowd. Don’t focus on anyone but me in the first row. Unless…I get removed for cheering too loud. That’s gonna be hard for more….”

[Y/N] chuckled, then kissed Bachira’s cheek. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have made it this far without your support.” The music changed, coming up on [Y/N]’s cue, and they get into position to dance out. “Don’t get kicked out.”

“I’ll try~!” Bachira promised, then went to his seat to watch the performance from the audience. In awe & rapture of the beauty of the show and his partner.

[sungstars]

sex education | pjs x afab!reader

synopsis: jisung had a reputation of being good at sex, until you got the chance to experience it. lackluster is the nicest way you could describe it, but worry not, you're a damn good teacher and jisung is eager to learn.

part one! part two! part three!

author's note: this is very much dedicated to my lovely fren @spookyji <3 happy holidays & there will be very much more to come! i do plan on making this a two-three part series! i will just see what happens in regards to writing / plot points. warnings under the cuts! likes & reblogs are appreciated!

wc: 3.6k (not proofread)

content warning: mentions of sex (18+, mdni!), allusions to hooking up, making out, y/n gets around town, but we love it, dry humping, "just the tip" troupe, y/n is kinda mean, degrading(?), unprotected sex, oral (f. rec.), fingering (f. rec.), nipple sucking (m&f rec.), lmk if i miss anything!

"god, no offense, but this was the worst sex i've ever had."

jisung's face was beet red, mouth agape as he laid against your pillows, trying to catch his breath from what he thought was pretty fucking awesome sex.

"what?" was all he could muster in between pants, wiping the sweat from his neck.

"i mean, are you sure i slept with the right jisung? the one who's been talked up a big game about being a sex god? like. . . not han jisung?" you titled your head, scratching at your braids with a confused look, "because you're not a sex god, you're not even a sex entity of any sort, you weren't a virgin right?"

this was so fucking embarassing, and also the first time jisung heard such a complaint. wow, normally girls tell him how good he was and how hard they came. . . even you did.

were you lying? were the other girls also . . lying?

"im confused, i thought that was pretty good." jisung finally admits, sitting up to look at you with his own confussed look, "i mean you were moaning and even talked about how you were about to cum. were you faking?"

"you couldn't tell?" you asked in a baffled tone like it should've been obvious, "and i'm sure it was great for you, i did all the fucking work! you just kissed me a little and maybe held my hips as i rode you only for you to last. . 10 minutes?"

"im sorry, maybe im just off my game? i've never had girls tell me, um, how bad i was at sex." he mumbled under his breath, looking at the floor for his clothes, "you're the first."

you reached down to grab your panties, standing up to pull them over your hips before throwing a shirt on, "if it goes the way this went. . . i think they wanted to protect your feelings because you're hot and relatively nice, ji."

jisung pondered for a moment as he put his own bottoms back on, thinking of the last few girls who he slept with.

yeah they would make out, he would finger her a little, she would suck him off, and then she would fuck herself on his dick until he came. most of the time, they finished before he did, and they would part ways until the next time.

more often than not though, there wasn’t a next time. jisung didn’t think too much about it though because he did go to a relatively large university, so he shrugged it off when another girl caught his attention.

now he wasn’t too sure that it was simply because of the size of university, but because they thought he was bad at sex.

“fuckkkk,” jisung dragged his hands down his face at the realization, “fuck.”

you tried not to react to jisung’s random outburst of cursing, but you couldn’t help the little side eye you gave him.

“what?”

jisung awkwardly reached down for his shirt, tripping over himself, but catching it before he could embarrass himself further, “it’s just. . really nobody’s said this to me before. do you think we could do this again? i can make up for it?”

“um. . .” you bit your lip, pondering how to gently let him down.

you did a once over his body, making him blush and throw his shirt on. jisung was attractive, there were no questions about it, but fuck, the sex was so lackluster.

maybe you could see what anton was doing later. he was your favorite person to sleep with. mainly because he would eat it and be on his merry way, insisting there was never a need to return the favor. ever.

you’re getting distracted, this is about jisung. it was a wonder that he had a reputation of being good at sex. that’s why when the opportunity presented itself, you jumped on it like a mouse finding a delicious piece of cheese.

hm. . you could always. . teach jisung how to improve his abilities. if he did, then maybe you would add him to the roster of pretty boys you rotate.

“you know what, sure.” you finally said, “but, im in charge. im going to teach you how to make a girl feel good. if i see some improvement, then ill keep my mouth shut about how bad this was. after i tell my friends, of course.”

a bright flush took over jisung’s face, him trying to process your agreement, and also you telling your friends about your . . . less than exquisite experience.

jisung grabbed his belongings off of your nightstand, showing them in his pockets before glancing at you, “um. . do you know when we can?”

“no,” you shrugged, walking over to the door so you could see him out of your building, "but i'll text you when i'm free."

the red haired boy nodded for the nth time it seemed like, walking out the door when you opened it, offering an awkward wave before sauntering down your hall towards the elevator.

you stood there, watching his tall frame get smaller and smaller with distance. you truly had your work cut out for you, but you were sure you could manage.

watching jisung, you didn't notice that your neighbor, kazhua opened the door, eyes following where you were watching jisung leave.

"oh," she giggled knowingly, "how was it? i hear he's pretty. . y'know, good at it."

you had to stifle a laugh, offering a playful smile at the girl, "you have no idea."

jisung was worried. he hasn't heard from you in almost two weeks, and he was worried you changed your mind about seeing him to improve his. . skills for a lack of a better words.

you're a busy person, he can understand that, but it didn't stop the anxiety from crossing his mind when he laid down at night.

he barely talked about his experience with you to his friends, which they thought was strange, given that he always wants to share, but waved it off.

his fingers were strumming against his thigh as he stared at his laptop, not sure what he planned on doing, but he needed to get his mind off of you.

maybe your ears were burning, because your contact name came across his screen.

yn :(: my dorm is empty

yn: come over.

jisung didn't want to come across as desperate, so instead he just stared at the message, waiting a few minutes before reaching his hands to reply. however, another message came through.

chenle: want to play basketball

chenle: all of us r meeting at the gym in 15

jisung: cant, have plans ;)

chenle: whos the new victim of the week

jisung: nope, pretty girl from two weeks ago

chenle: ohh. maybe itll go well this time

jisung felt his heart drop to his ass, heartbeat in his ears as his mind began racing. did you really tell your friends who might've told their friends and now it got all the way back to his own group?

jisung: what?

chenle: bc you didnt talk about it lol. we assumed it went bad

jisung: lol obvi not, tell you abt it next time

okay, enough time has passed so he could finally reply to you.

jisung: be there in 30!

the entire walk to your dorm room, jisung was nervous. fuck, he's been nervous since your last interaction.

he feels like he's about to go lose his virginity all over again, truly.

his heartbeat was loud in his ears, seeming to increase every step closer to your room.

the time he took in the shower, the outfit he picked out, all of it in hopes that you would see his effort.

he wasn't even sure why he wanted to impress you so damn much. yes he was, you could embarrass the living fuck out of him.

plus, from the last time you hung out, you didn't seem half bad. that is, until you told him about himself.

anyway, he was finally face to face with your door. he gently knocked, bouncing on his feet slightly to calm his nerves.

you opened the door, offering him a gentle smile.

your hair was different than last time. instead of having it in braids, it was a bright fiery red, like his own, and it cascaded down your back in pretty beach waves.

"copping my style?" jisung teased, doing a once over as you laughed a little.

it was good that he didn't seem so nervous or tense, or if he was, which you were worried about.

you did feel a little bad about how his once relaxed demeanor changed into a nervous wreck when you told him about the sex being bad.

“some would say inspired,” you replied, moving to the side so he could enter your room.

jisung took his shoes off, placing them neatly next to your nightstand before putting his phone and wallet on top, “it suits you.”

you returned to your spot on the bed, gesturing for jisung to sit next to you, which he obliged without second thought,

“so. . .” he trailed off, looking down at his hands, “how have you been?”

"fine, you?"

"i've been okay."

the tension between you both felt awkward now, which you didn't want. jisung was sweet, but you didn't really know him like you knew anton or jay.

which made you feel a bit nervous too, which was weird. you never felt a little nervous when hooking up with somebody, friend or stranger.

"maybe we should talk a little before we jump into lesson one," you suggested, turning your head towards him, "get a little more comfortable."

jisung nodded, facing you and biting his lip slightly, "yeah. . yeah. we can do that."

"what's your major?" you asked, relatively generic, but hey, at least you were starting somewhere.

"radiology, what about you?"

"sonography, sort of similar to radiology, but y'know not really."

jisung's fingers danced along his thigh, "still interesting, what made you decide to do that?"

"i want to work with people, but i don't want to be a midwife and watch somebody give birth. nursing is cool, but just not fitting for me. radiology is interesting, but i don't really care for it. i guess sonography is just what spoke most to me out of all the programs. i don't know." you explained, "what about you?"

"well, i was a dance major, and i'm pretty good at it, but i know in my heart that i wouldn't pursue it professionally. i think anatomy is cool, and why not? i'm also majoring in astrophysics, but that's neither here nor there."

"that's. . . really interesting. who knew under all this sexiness, was a little nerdy boy," you teased, pinching jisung's cheek which caused him to swat at you playfully, "so smart and handsome, and a dancer."

jisung's ears were as red as his hair, grabbing your wrist and holding it above your head.

he didn't realize howhow close the two of you were now. your thighs touching and your faces merely inches apart now.

when he did, he immediately blushed and dropped his hand, moving away from you once more.

"jisung," you said softly, "why are you acting so shy? what happened to the confident boy from last time?"

"um. . ." he scratched his neck, trying to figure out how to word his train of thoughts, "well . . after what we talked about last time, it kinda hurt my feelings. to be honest, and it made me sort of doubt myself. a lot, actually."

damn, you thought to yourself. you didn't even second guess yourself when you told him how bad the sex was, not taking a moment to possibly word it better. you did feel bad, knowing you hurt his feelings and made him self conscious.

"i'm sorry, ji." you mumbled, looking at him with a sincere look, "i didn't even think about how i said things, or how it could've. . hurt your feelings."

jisung offered you a little smile, "it's okay, y/n. i probably needed to hear it, so it's okay."

"let me make it up to you?" you asked, leaning into his space and looking up at him.

he couldn't deny how pretty you looked staring up at him. your glossy bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you waited for his answer, hair falling over your shoulders.

"yeah, okay." he nodded, leaning into you now, lips hovering over yours, "make it up to me, y/n."

you attached your lips to his, closing the gap between the both of you. throwing your leg over his hip to settle into his lap. his hands found their place on your hips, yours finding their way into his hair.

if there was one thing that jisung was good at, it was kissing. his tongue pushing its way into your mouth, his teeth grazing your lip, and the lingering taste of cherry on his lips.

his fingers dug their way into your hips, causing you to slightly buck against him. a soft moaning leaving his lips, causing you to repeat the motion.

you detached yourself from jisung, looking at his flushed face and swollen lips, "just trust me, mm? 'm gonna show you somethin.."

jisung hummed, relaxing against your pillows as you kissed down his neck, your teeth grazing into his skin, sucking dark hickeys into his pale skin. small whimpers left jisung's pretty lips as you grind your hips down, feeling his erection slowly grow underneath you.

your hands dipped under his shirt, feeling his defined stomach muscles, dancing up to his nipples and pinching them slightly. a loud moan left jisung's lips, his hips pushing up into you.

his erection pressing against your clit through your thin shorts, making you gasp against his skin.

you adjusted yourself on his lap, making sure that the tip of his cock would keep bumping your cunt the way it did before. hands pulling his shirt up to his collarbones.

leaning down, you wrapped your plump lips around one of his nipples, causing jisung to dig his fingers into your skin.

"fuck," he whined, back slightly arching up into you, "that feels so nice."

you smiled, sucking harshly to elicit more noises from the boy below you.

pulling away from him, you looked at his fucked out expression, "damn jisung, a little nipple sucking is all it takes to get you to look like that?"

a bright blush took over jisung's features, eyes darting away from you, "i thought you were supposed to be making me feel better, not teasing me."

"you're right, i apologize." you cooed, placing your hands on his toned stomach before rolling your hips against his, "so mean to such a sweet boy, 'm so sorry."

"it's okay," he whimpered, his cock straining against his sweats, "just. . keep doing this please."

"i can make it feel even better," you moaned out, pausing your movements which caused jisung to slightly frown at the loss, "lift your hips up for me."

jisung obliged, your fingers pulling his sweats down to free his cock, the length slapping against his stomach with a wet pop.

you licked your lips at the sight, his fat tip an angry red, wanting nothing more to take into your mouth.

maybe next time, for now, you had other plans with jisung. you pulled your own shorts down, kicking them off of your feet and onto the floor.

adjusting yourself back onto his lap, the feeling of his cock against your bare cunt made you feel a little feral.

you began to rub your cunt up and down the length of his dick, your slick wettening it to make it a bit more smoother. every time the tip nudged your clit, your fingers dug into jisung's pale skin.

"oh fuck," jisung groaned at the contact, fucking his hips up to increase the friction against your cunt, "that feels so fucking good."

you moved one of your hands to his shoulder to stable yourself, whimpering when the tip slowly pushed into you.

jisung's eyes were screwed tightly, mouth agape when his tip entered you, but quickly slipped out.

"fuck," he sighed, that word seeming to be the only one he can formulate right now, "fuck, can i please put the tip in?"

nodding quickly, you reached your hand down in between your bodies, grabbing his cock and slowly sliding the tip into you, your hole clamping around him.

you bounced lightly on his cock, hand squeezing the base of his dick as his tip moved in and out of your cunt.

"y/n" jisung whimpered, "y/n, i'm gonna come."

when you registered jisung's words, you quickly slipped his cock out of you, giggling at his disappointed look, "awh."

trying to catch his breath, his chest heaving up and down, jisung looked like he might've cried, "why did you do that?"

"oh sung," you cooed at him again, wiping away the tear that managed to escape, "i think i made it up to you plenty, i think it's time you do some work for a change, you are here to learn after all."

his head fell against the pillows, agitated at your comment, but still turned on nonetheless. fuck, you being so condescending in bed is so fucking hot.

"okay." he managed to say, sitting up and flipping you so that your back was on the mattress, "what should i do then?"

his strength took you by surprise, flipping you over like a fucking piece of paper.

"first," you began, spreading your legs so he could sit between them comfortably, "pull my shirt up."

jisung listened, pushing your t-shirt up to your collarbones like you did to him, focusing on your perky tits, "okay, now what?"

was he that clueless? you couldn't help but think, "play with them. suck on them, pinch them, come on, you've never played with a girl's tits before?"

deciding to ignore that jab, jisung leaned down and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, letting his tongue flick at it while he brought his hand to the other, rolling it around between his fingers.

you let out little sighs which encouraged him to keep going, lightly biting down on your nipple before switching to the other.

"okay, that feels so good, ji baby." you admitted, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair, "just do what feels right."

jisung took a few more moments to play with your tits, sucking and pinching them to get you to make more noises. when he detached, you hissed at the cold air hitting your wet nipple.

his lips trailed down your sternum, to your stomach, fingers wrapping around your thighs as he slowly trailed lower down to your pelvis.

he adjusted himself so that he was face to face with your cunt, his dick pressed between his stomach and the mattress, a whimper escaping his mouth again.

"have you ever. . ?"

jisung shook his head no, but looked at you with eager, almost desperate eyes, "can i try?"

"you are here to learn," you chided, "do what feels right. i'll guide you through it."

leaning forward, he used two fingers to spread your folds, enamored with your glistening cunt, blowing air on it to see how you would react.

you hissed at the contact, thighs clamping around his head, but jisung quickly used his hands to pry them back open.

he finally pressed his mouth against you, licking up and down your cunt, fingers wrapping around your thighs once more.

"slowly ji," you said, "be gentle. it's not a melting lollipop."

jisung slowed his movements, swirling his tongue around your clit before licking a strip up your cunt again, looking up at you.

your hand gripped his hair tightly, moaning out, "that's good, baby."

he smiled against your cunt, slowly grinding his hips into the mattress to relieve some of the frustration building up in him.

he teasingly dipped his tongue into your hole, moaning against you when you pulled his hair tightly. pulling away, jisung wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking it as he moved his hand to push one finger into you.

jisung wanted you to tell him how good he was doing, but if how you were withering underneath him and your cunt fluttering around his finger was anything to go by, he was doing a damn good job.

when he was confident you could take another, he slipped another finger into you.

the feeling of his teeth grazing your clit as he fingered you, you wouldn't guess he's never done this before. his actions causing you to slowly reach your peak.

"fuck ji," you sighed, "you're so good at this. 'm about to fucking cum."

pulling away from your cunt for a brief second, he looked up at you with a dark look in his eyes, "cum all over my face, please. show me how good i'm doing, please."

with a desperate plea like that, you pushed his face back into his cunt, jisung taking your clit into his mouth once more.

his fingers hitting that spongey spot inside of you, causing your eyes to roll back into your head, "fuck. 'm cumming."

your cunt spasming all over jisung's fingers as your orgasm overtook you, whining and crying from the pleasure.

jisung didn't stop his abuse on your cunt, lapping your juices up until you physically pushed him away, "too much, fuck."

you fell back against your pillows, jisung catching his breath before you sat up to look at him.

trailing over his body, you looked at his dick as spurts of cum ran down it, "mm seems like i'm not the only one who enjoyed that."

ignoring that, jisung leaned into you, face glistening with your slick as he kissed your neck, "so when's lesson #2?"