#again it all comes back to: he didn't ask for this. he never signed up for this.

[mercutio-the-velaryon]

Okay, okay, but I'm kinda of obsessed with this messy au in my head. So post canon pregnant Mel becoming head of House Medarda and marrying for political gain not with the intent to cover up that the baby is born out of wedlock and to a disgraced scientist (Jayce Talis) but to ensure the child's future by having two lineages to protect them. Then Jayce (and Viktor probably) are spit out of the Arcane eight years later, in very rough shape, and they crawl their way to the Medarda colosseum (Viktor is attune to Mel's magic). They seek an audience with her, noxians laugh in their face. In order to get an audience with her, they have to fight or make themselves useful, Jayce chooses to enter as a champion, Viktor volunteers as a medic (those five years in purgatory the arcane was balancing the magic in his body so now he's a natural mage and a healer) (also medics were an addition made to the colosseum events by Mel along with the complete banning of fights to the death). But, of course there's a twist, see winning a match usually wouldn't get you an audience with Mel Medarda you'd have to win a whole season of fights no you only get a direct audience if you beat Mel Medarda herself. So, Mel comes out gallavants around the ring, and her foe is revealed. Jayce stumbles out, heaving a hammer over his shoulder. Their eyes meet, Jayce drops his hammer, and the crowd roars. Mel can't look weak, so she lands a blow, throwing him on his back.

She hypes up the crowd to give him time to recover. He catches on, and they fight hand to hand. Mel's pissed and growing more so by the second meanwhile Jayce is living in a daydream seeing his girl again but he soon starts to notice that she's looking at him like he's the devil incarnate flashes of grief but mostly anger she's also not mitigating any of her attacks and her magic is getting fiercer, her hair and her eyes glowing. He ends up on the ground defeated, but her magic is still volatile, tendrils of it, whipping around her until she short circuits and collapses to her knee , Jayce tries to gather himself and go to her. But somebody beats him to her. A child with eyes like his comes to Mel's side. It reminds Jayce of when Ximena fell into the snow all those years ago. Jayce stumbles over to them slowly, his heart in his throat. Mel tucks her child into her arms, her lips curled in contempt as she eyes Jayce like a threat. "Who are you?" Jayce asks the doe eyed child gawking at him from the safety of their mother's arms. But of course Jayce knew. Mel releases the child telling them to stand back, Jayce caught up in his own emotions tries to talk to Mel but she's not having it, she's sits him on the floor again, and raises her fist, declaring victory. The crowds erupt, bell ring. Jayce is left dumbfounded on the ground, Mel grabs her child and leaves the stadium waving around looking triumphant as she exits.

As a reward for lasting so long in the ring, Jayce is still granted a short audience with Mel. He's guided to a room, that seems to be something like a entertainment area for patrons, two long tables that lead to a throne, there are signs of life splashes of dried wine, tipped over goblets and half eaten carcasses sitting atop silver platters. It was obviously recently cleared out. Mel sits at the throne. He stands before her and notices those eyes again, peeking at him from behind the throne.

"You wanted an audience, here it is"

"I have to admit I didn't plan this far ahead," Jayce chuckles.

"So, you're wasting my time"

"I need your help"

"Yes, well some things never change"

"Aren't you at all curious about where I've been all these years?"

Mel hums at the irony.

"Not particularly no, you have one question left, Talis"

"Who's that behind you"

"Come forth," Mel holds out her hand the child reveals themself and grabs it.

"Tell my old friend your name,"

"Jaena Medarda, heir to House Medarda, daughter of Mel and Tizor" the young child manages. Mel smiles proud.

"Can you find cousin Salerri, my heart?"

The child nods and flees, giddy and light.

"Tizor?" Jayce asks as the door closes.

"My husband"

"Is it just you, or is Viktor here as well, sleuthing somewhere in the shadows"

"He's volunteered with the medics" he says gruffly.

"You should get him to check you out then, you're in very bad shape"

"Jaena... is she? She has to be..."

"She's my daughter that's all that matters"

"Mel"

"I can temporarily set both you and Viktor up with quarters in my estate, I'd offer you space elsewhere but the whole of Runeterra's in town for the Tournament of Houses"

"I- thank you for your hospitality, Mel"

"Of course, my guards will escort you,"

He is guided out. In her aloneness, her emotions flood and Mel breaks down. Tears flowing.

Afterwards, when Jayce and Viktor are settled, Mel and Viktor begin to bond over their magic, drawing them together. Jayce and Viktor get closer as well, but they're both hesitant to pursue things now that Jayce is technically a father. Jayce and Mel argue over Jaena and their relationship. Mel's husband is out of the picture for now because he's away at sea, with the Noxian fleets. Jayce and Mel eventually make up, and Mel reveals that Jaena knows that Tizor isn't her father because she didn't want to keep her daughter in the dark the way Ambessa did with her. She hasn't revealed that Jayce is her father but will allow him to do so if he so wishes. Jayce asks if they can tell her together. Mel agrees. They do and then do a bunch of family bonding activities so Jayce and Jaena can connect. Mel starts to pull back when she realises she's still in love with Jayce. Comedies and family dramas ensue. Ximena makes her way over from Piltover. Tearful reunions blah blah blah. Mel gets drunk with Viktor one night, and they kiss. Mel becomes avoidant with him, too. Leading to Jayvik cornering her in the middle of the night to talk about their relationship. And that's how meljayvik endgame. Thank you very much.

[twdfemmefetal]

Crush

Summary: Wait, who has a crush on you? A confession from Maggie makes you second guess every interaction you’ve had with a certain man.

Era: Quarry, Prison

Warnings: MDNI, Fluff, Angst, Violence, Swearing, physical altercation, reader gets hurt, strangulation.

You couldn’t tell if you heard her right as you stared blankly at Maggie’s mouth moving. “What?” You asked again, as if you couldn’t process what she had just told you.

“Daryl said he likes you.” She let out with a chuckle as she looked away from you and out into the distance of the guard tower. You swallowed hard feeling your mouth suddenly run dry, trying to slow your breathing. You didn’t know what to say, you were completely thrown off with this confession.

“How do you know? Who told you?” Maggie softly gazed at you from over her shoulder, amused at your now eager tone, “Daryl told Rick, Rick told Glenn, Glenn told me.” Your hands clammed up and you felt a bit uneasy knowing Daryl’s secret was now spreading around unbeknownst to him. You had always thought Daryl was cute, attractive, handsome-honestly you really liked him, but you knew the odds of it working out were slim, especially because of the way he acted around you.

Every moment you had with him seemed to be nothing but annoying to the archer, when you would ask him questions, try to get to know him. You didn’t think Daryl had any feelings at all towards people. He was cold, distant, but hearing the sudden confession made your heart swoon and pound into your ribcage. You tried to recall every single interaction you had with him, when you could have possibly missed the signs?

⭒

You couldn't help but shiver at the night breeze, mentally cursing yourself for giving Lori your only blanket before night time. She was pregnant-you would practically be signing yourself to damnation if you didn't do something to stop her whines and shivers due to how chilly the weather was getting, especially during nightfall.

But now, you were slowly regretting the decision and would have been fine now that you think about it, going to hell. Bet it would be nice and warm there.

"Ya cold?" Your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar southern drawl as you turned around and saw Daryl, leaned up against a tree, watching you. How long had he been there? With a raised eyebrow at his sudden shift of attention to you, you responded.

"No." liar.

"er', looks like ya need it more than me." Daryl grumbled softly and handed you his signature red flannel.

You muttered a quick thanks and took it, grateful for his hunter like observation skills.

As the night went on, the flannel wasn't enough, you were freezing as the temperature dropped significantly in the last few hours. Daryl eventually sighed as he got up from his seating position by the tree and started walking over to you softly.

"git' up," you looked at him with an arched brow and a puzzled expression while you got up from the ground. Daryl slumped down onto the spot and placed his back on the rock you had been leaning on.

"come er'" he grunted as he signaled for you to sit in between his legs. You couldn’t help but blush slightly as did he. Daryl’s ears were practically hot to the touch, never in his life did he think he would be doing this for anyone let alone you.

"Daryl I-"

"m' tired of hearin' yer teeth chatterin', come er' woman."His tone was laced in annoyance, instantly shutting you up. You softly positoned yourself in between his legs, feeling Daryl tense up but quickly relaxing after hearing you sigh in content after he wrapped his arms around you-- along with the big blanket he had been hoarding all to himself...bastard

⭒

The only good thing about being camped by a quarry, was having the opportunity to sun bathe and swim anytime you wanted. You knew it was the end of the world and the last thing you should probably think about was going for a swim, in a walker infested forest but you really needed some sense of normality in the world, so as part of a routine to keep some form of sanity in your life, you made it a habit of being able to sun bathe and take a quick dip in the quarry whenever you had any free time in the day.

After slipping into a black two piece swimsuit, you slowly made your way into the secluded part of the quarry that you always swam in, not wanting anyone to disturb your peace and wanting some more privacy from the others in the group, especially after you found shane watching you from his spot on top of the R.V. 'supposedly' keeping watch.

"Damn girl! wanna get out of there and put on a show for yer' ol' pal Merle?" You heard the familiar southern drawl of the older Dixon who managed to catcall you and every other woman in the group any chance he got.

While rolling your eyes, you turned around in the water and moved your hair to the left side of your body slowly ringing it out of excess water.

"Fuck you Dixon."

"girl's got a mouth on her huh' lil brotha, I bet I can shut her up real good if I shove-" Merle was cut off by the younger Dixon, before he could finish his disgusting rebuttle.

"Shut up Merle, les' go." You couldnt help but give the younger Dixon a soft smile as he gazed upon you once more before turning around, crossbow slung over his shoulder, and making sure the older one followed.

"Ill be back for your sweet ass later darlin'" You flipped off the older Dixon and popped your head back into the cool water once more.

To your suprise, just a few minutes later, you heard someone apporaching the Quarry once more and you fully expected it to be Merle until you looked up and saw Daryl.

"Hey Daryl." Your cheerful tone, and welcoming smile made him ease into your prescence. Daryl was used to always being on edge and ready to enter fight or flight mode with everyone else but you, he could practically feel all his tension dissipate from his body, once he knew you were close.

"shouldn' be er' alone ya know?" Daryl’s tone was laced with concern as he watched you swim through his harden gaze. You smirked and quirked your eyebrow at him.

"Aww Daryl, you don't need to be worried about me." You pouted at him playfully, while batting your long eyelashes. Daryl couldn't help but feel his lips tug into a smirk as he shook his head.

"Sun's settin'... ya should get out soon before ya end up bein' walker meat." You could see his face flash with concern as he looked up at the sky and around cautiously for any sort of threat. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how overbearing he was being and splashed him with some water, catching him completely off guard.

"Nope, Im good."

Daryl squinted his eyes, not feeling in the mood to play anymore, especially when he was concerned about your safety.

"M'serious girl, ain't gonna help ya later when yer ass gets attacked by the livin' dead."

"Why dont you come in here and make me."

And with that Daryl groaned waiting to call your bluff,

“Fine, ain’t my fault if ya end up bein’ dinner for em.” Daryl turned on his heels, expecting you to get out but he turned around once more and saw you swim further into the quarry and away from the shore.

Daryl groaned to himself in annoyance and started with his boots. You were the only woman he would do this for, only woman he would chase.

So when you heard the light splash of water and ripples coming from Daryl who was now fully immersed in the water and coming after you, you smirked to yourself and playfully splashed as much water towards him as you could until he was now wrapping his arms around you, pulling you towards the shore. You were now in a full belly laugh as you saw his long wet hair covering his face, but what really caught your attention was the flash of his toothy grin, and a small twinkle in his blue eyes behind the curtain of wavy brown locks.

⭒

Okay, maybe you had just been completley clueless at all the other times he had offered you some of his own dinner, water, and clothes to keep you warm, fed, and safe.

God how could you not have noticed? You couldnt help but chuckle at the thought of how clueless you had been. Daryl had never been like that with anyone else, and for that you were slightly glad about, you couldn't imagine how possesive you would have gotten if he acted kindly to every other woman in the group.

After your shift was up, and sunrise was now making the clouds cascade with red and orange hues, you felt a sudden feeling of mixed anxiety and nervousness. How should you act now that you know his secret? What do you do about it? Your mind had now been full of so many questions and thoughts that needed answers, so your feet naturally dragged you towards the only person who could give you answers. You headed toward the ward office that daryl had been occupying as his room.

You wiped your sweaty palms on your jean shorts as you raised your trembling fist preparing to softly knock on the door.

You heard some shuffling and movement along with a "com' in,” , allowing you entry. Even the sound of his grumbles made you weak to your knees.

You slowly but hesitantly twisted the door knob as you timidly made your way in the office room. Daryls eyes widen seeing you emerge from behind the doorway. He quickly got up from his laying position on the cot he was sleeping on and looked up at you more awake then ever.

"Morning Daryl, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something that's been on my mind?" Daryl swallowed hard at your timidness, never seeing you act like this before, you were confident, and energetic, this was a whole other demenour you've never carried, so he was worried.

"was' wrong?" Daryl tensed up, ready to kill someone for you if he had to.

"nothing's wrong daryl, opposite to that actually.." you couldn't help but giggle at his tone that was laced with concern over nothing.

"Do you like me?" You asked rather bluntly, catching him off guard. Daryl blinked at you with no words, not knowing how to react.

"what? nah." Tensing up and letting out a dry cough "who told ya that?" he chuckled lightheartedly, hoping to ease the tension in the room.

Your heart softly sank at how he quickly brushed it off. "Oh, no one in particular.." You shifted on another foot now feeling beyond humiliated. "alright, that answers my questions.... Im sorry to bother you, I hope I didnt make you uncomfortable." You couldn't help but stammer out, now assuming your face was probably fully flushed red.

"I's alrigh', ya didn' make me feel any sorta way.. don' lose sleep over it." Your lips formed into a thin line as you softly nodded to him.

"okay then, see you around." and with that you turned to your heels, making sure to close the door softly behind you.

Daryl sighed in dissapointment, as he laid his head back on the bed. Regretting not having the balls to admit his true feelings to you.

⭒

A few days had passed since the confrotation you had with Daryl, he avoided you like the plague. You were beyond humiliated by the whole ordeal but tried not to let it affect you. It was harder said than done, every corner you turned, as soon as Daryl's gaze connected to yours, he made sure to walk the other way, or use any excuse he had to make sure not to be in the same room as you.

Rick has asked you to go on a run with Daryl but to your suprise, Glenn was the one that showed up in his place. Your heart sank, feeling awful for how uncomfortable you might have made him feel to the point that he was willingly avoiding you any chance he had.

"Did daryl not want to come with me?" You softly asked Glenn as he looked at you through in between the shelves. His gaze turned pitiful, as he avoided eyes. "He didn't say that.. Just said he was busy." You nodded and continued with the task at hand, knowing any sort of distractions could be life or death at this point.

As you scavanged more shelves your eyes caught sight of movement just behind the register counter, you quickly drew your gun in an attempt to get the person to surrender. "Hey, come out with your arms above your head!" Glenn was quick to reach your side as he held his own gun up as your backup. You motioned your head to behind the counter and Glenn nodded, understanding that the person might be dangerous and armed, who was crouched behind it.

"Youre cornered asshole." Glenn said coming around the corner of the counter, gun raised. The quick movement alarmed the person, who quickly jumped up and tried to get the gun from Glenn.

You ran over only to be elbowed hard in the stomach from their rough tassle. "what the fuck." You were winded but the adrenaline was kicking in, and you weren't gonna sit down to catch your breath, not when Glenn was in danger.

You quickly tried to tackle the guy by putting your own gun around his neck, using it to try to suffocate him, this action only angered him as he swung his arms back, leaving a pretty shinner on your cheekbone. He took advantage of the opportunity of distraction and quickly pulled you to the ground by your shirt collar and wrapping his rough hands around your neck, choking you.

You felt tears and a burning sensation in your lungs as your vision soon clouded, almost instantly feeling the lack of oxygen get to your head. You tried to pull him off but failed miserably, before he could do more damage, you heard the bang of a gun go off followed with a splater of blood on your face. Causing the man to fall limp ontop of you.

With whatever strength you had, you managed to throw the man off of you and gasp for air, finally being able to see clearly now. "Holy shit, are you okay?" Glenn came around and helped you up, you nodded and flashed him a small smile. "Thank you, I've been better, now lets get the fuck out of here before walkers show up."

⭒

The drive back to the prison was miserable, you pulled the passenger sun visor mirror down and looked over your now bruised neck and cheekbone. Your neck looked worse than your face, seems the blow to your cheek wasnt as bad as the stranglation but, that was the closest call you’ve had to death, and you were shocked it wasn't a walker that almost took you down.

This is gonna be fun to explain

As the gates of the prison opened up and Rick and Carl were the first to approach you both, Ricks eyes flashed with concern when he saw your now purple finger markings around your neck and bruised up cheekbone. "We ran into a guy who went batshit on us but we took care of the problem." Rick's eyes softened as he looked you over, "Im good, dont worry about it." You flashed him your signature bright smile through the pain and helped unload the car of supplies.

As you were about to pick up a duffle bag, Rick intercepted,

"Ive got it, you deserve a few days off after that." Rick signaled to your neck, "Should get that checked out by hershel just in case." With a quick nod, you headed toward the prison cell block and straight to Hershel’s cell.

"So how bad is it?" you softly winced, as Hershel carefully examined your now tender neck.

"there will be swelling and bruising for a while, you might get a bit of a sore throat— seems he really got a hold on ya. Cheekbone is fine, might bruise up as well. Just take it easy on the talkin' and make sure to stay hydrated." You nodded and thanked him, softly getting up from the cot and making your way out of the cell.

Slowly walking up the stairs to your own cell, your eyes connected with Daryl's who seemed to already be fixated on you as he was on his way down from his guard room. You quickly avoided his lingering gaze and headed into your cell to relax.

Just as you were about to relax you heard a grunt at your door. You didn't have to really guess who it was, Daryl's presence was pretty much indistinguishable from others. "Come in." You said hoarsly, as the effects of the choking were now more prominent than ever.

"Heard what happen’d ,ya okay?" Daryl’s eyes flashed with concern as he quickly looked down at the marks around your neck. He inched a bit closer to you and softly brushed his knuckles to your cheek, so tenderly, as if he was afraid to hurt you. You couldn't help but instantly relax in his touch.

“I shoulda’ been there.” Daryl said just barley above a whisper.

“Im okay Daryl, plus it’s not your fault.” You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at him blaming himself.

"You weren't even there." You chuckled once more and slowly pulled away from his touch.

Daryl looked back at you, eyes a bit watery, as if he was going to cry catching you by suprise.

"Yeah, I wasn't even there. I should'a been." He ran a hand over his face tiredly and leaned up againist the wall. "Told Glenn to cover meh', didn't know how to talk to ya after the other day."

Your ears perked up, your face flushed a bit remembering the humilitating moment of trying to ask him if he liked you. "Im sorry Daryl, I seriously didn't mean to make you uncomfortable-" You couldn't finish your sentence when you felt Daryl's soft lips smash onto yours with haste.

The kiss was tender, soft and sweet. You instantly melted into his touch as you felt his rough calloused hands on your hips, pulling you closer to his embrace.

After what felt like a heavenly few minutes of passionate kissing, Daryl pulled away, gasping for air as he leaned his forehead against your own. "I love ya, was too damn scared to tell ya before but I know what I want now. I want you, and I aint losin' ya." Your lip curled up into a smirk and you leaned back in once more to capture him in a chaste kiss, eager for his lips.

“I knew it! Bastard you made me think otherwise.” Daryl chuckled while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, that managed to fall over your face.

“Seriously now who told ya I like ya?”

“Not telling you a damn thing.”

[nagareboshiko]

His flat was on the second floor, Lumine could recognise the window that faced the road from where she had looked down herself the couple of times she had visited his small place.

She had pressed the number for his flat, the 11th, ironic, right? But from there, she wasn't able to hear if the intercom had actually made any sound. There was no response. Her eyes glanced back up once again. There was no light she could see coming through, but it was only the early afternoon after all.

Was he at work? It would make sense, due to the hour of the day he could still be out. She didn't really think about it when she had run out of home and presented herself unnounced. It totally made sense... Despite all the logical explanations she was giving to herself, she still felt unsettled.

What if he had run away? And even if he had run away, it was his right to do so. It wasn't for her. Instead, to keep Ajax bound to this place, to her.

Or was he sick? Why would he be sick, though?

Her index pressed once more on the button, with more force now, but again, there was no sign of anyone willing to respond. Should she wait by the stairs? Throw at stone at his window?? She wouldn't want to cause more issues to him than she already did...

Ugh.

She took a long, heavy breath, her lungs only settling now after the long run from the bistro. What had happened that afternoon in her room had changed things with no way of turning back. It had altered him, and the way he looked at her now.

She turned away from the door, her hands moving her cream skirt on an attempt to settle down on the few stairs by the front door. It was exactly when her head had turned towards the road that she noticed him.

Ajax.

Standing a couple of feet away, casual clothes on, a paper grocery bag hanging from his hand. There was a sign of eyebags that had still not faded from his skin. Her name left his lips, and it was that to snap her out of her trance. She had even missed the way he pronounced her name.

Her feet stumbled forward, still careful to keep some distance in case he'd still freak out by her presence. It wasn't every day that people would pull out star out of their palms after all.

She shifted awkwardly on her feet, her hand rubbing her arm in search of comfort and courage to face him and accept again any kind of reaction or denial.

"How are you?" Dumb question to ask, but nevertheless, she kept her gaze firm on his.

She had only realised it those past days, between one coffee and another, between Aether's embrace and the empty seat in which Ajax had made it his own whenever he would come over to see her.

She had been too far gone she couldn't see it beforehand. She didn't want to lie anymore. She wanted to be more than just a memory for him. She wanted to sweep the cafe again with him and engage in a silly broom fight when they'd both get bored. She wanted to hear his laugh again, so rare now but as precious. Bake again burnt bread by his side, falling asleep together on the sofa when the movie got too boring.

"I'm sorry for... Everything." For lying, for pushing my heavy burden on you. Perhaps now she would be able to explain that everything; the grief, the fear, the love that were part of her existence, that despite the initial hope, she never meant him to be some kind of sad replacement. She wanted him to remember her for who she was now, not for the Lumine, the Traveller who she once was in the past.

She wanted him to know that even if the colours she was seeing now were of a different shade to the beauty she was once able to see, they were still colours that he had allowed her to witness in this life once again.

"Can we please stay friends?" Her hand raised, offered for him to shake. Perhaps they could just restart from 0, make the end become the beginning of a new journey.

Light pushed through his curtains as blurry eyes opened to his usual studio apartment. Ajax had fallen asleep on his front in his clothes, down to his socks and jacket. By the heaviness in limbs he could tell he hadn't moved the whole night. Ajax stayed laying on his front, numb from the way last night's conversation had gone. He felt drained, beyond exhausted. He was sure if he closed his eyes again, he'd fall asleep. But he couldnt sleep forever.

Ajax went to push himself up from the bed, it was only when his hand was in front of his face that he realised he was still holding the object Lumine had given him. The 'vision'. Dull blue eyes stared into the dull grey gem of the trinket. His mind replayed the events of last night, every emotion, every look she gave, everything. Staring... staring... as he looked deeper into the palm sized never ending greyness, his mind re conjured the part of the conversation when she pulled stars out of thin air. The light of that memory flashed across the surface of the gem. The suddenness startled him awake, forcing him to throw the item across the room with more force than he perhaps intended. It hit the wardrobe, the metal frame the gem was nestled in must be what caused it to break the cheap wooden door, going straight through. It hit the back before finding a place to stop on the bottom with a few dull thuds. Ajax was sat up, staring at the hole the object had left. It felt like it had been attached to him forever and finally he could flex his sore hand freely. The young man looked down at his palm and fingers, dents and faint bruises left from the vice grip he had on the object.

Then it struck him. He was late for work.

The proceeding statement about the event on (and/or leading up to) xx/xx is true to memory and not made with any ill will or malice. These comments are for company purposes only, to be used in the event they need to be recalled upon for further disaplinary action, employee review, or possible legal purposes. If other, please state in the box below.

On xx/xx, day one of events, Ajax's manager [redacted] scolded him for showing late. Ajax apologised. Manager commented on Ajax state of dress. Ajax reportedly said nothing and begun his shift.

On day two, Ajax was on time but it was noted by staff he looked sick (reportedly he had dark circles under his eyes and a cough). He was asked by a co worker if he was okay. Ajax stated he was fine. Ajax was asked again by a senior member of staff. Ajax reiterated he was fine.

On day three, his manager told him to go home due to looking sick (pale, dark eyes, cough exacerbated). Ajax refused and began his shift.

On day four, the day of incident, Ajax's manager- once again- told him to go home due to looking sick (worse the before). Ajax refused. His manager reminded him it was his rota'd day off. Ajax refused. Ajax was told if he didn't leave he would be escorted off the property. Ajax refused. Security was summoned by manager. A final warning was issued. Multiple witness accounts state the security guard [redacted] placed a hand Ajax. Witness accounts are torn on whether security was forceful or not. Ajax's fist made contact with the security's face (bruises documented on page 5). The security retaliated with a swing which didn't make contact. Ajax continued hitting the security repeatedly (wounds documented page 6 and 7) until his manager [redacted] attempted to pull Ajax away from the security personnel. Ajax reportedly headbutt his manager (bruises documented page 8). [Staff member name redacted] who happens to be former army personnel intervened. They finally managed to restrain Ajax by pinning him to the floor. Excessive force had to be used due to Ajax continuing to resist, causing bodily harm to Ajax himself (documented across pages 5 to 10 for various marks).

By signing this dated xx/xx, I confirm as [occupation and name redacted] the documentation and statements gathered was done with explicit consent from all parties involved unless consent couldnt be given due to a reason listed below and fall under compliance in chapter 2 paragraph 4.1 of the the company's handbook.

Ajax slammed the door of his apartment behind him. By some miracle, he hadn't been fired. Not yet at least. He was on suspension while they figured out if he started it or not, whether his actions could be deemed excessive or not. A terrible ache ran down his neck, shoulder and back from where Sargent what's her face pulled his arm back and forced his face into the ground. Of course it was a former army officer. Salt in the damn wound, as though to remind him of his past failures. Fuck.

Ajax just about got to his bed before flopping on it, laying on his side as he stared at nothing in particular. Part of him realised it was best in that situation he wasn't at his physical peak or it could have gone so much worse. As though to underline that thought, a cough shook through him. Since the other day he'd been gradually getting more sick. Had it been the emotional stress and weight of what Lumine had said? Or was it something as simple as catching a cold from the light rain that day? He couldnt tell the cause, but he could feel it getting worse.

The days had been monotonous. Since day one his appetite was small, but it'd gotten to a point of forcing 3 day left over rice down just to have something to stop his stomach from growling. Maybe it was a bug? Knowing his luck, that was it; A fight and a horrible truth from someone he... likes, and then a flu that made him feel insane, only to be possibly (most likely) fired from his only source of income. He was so fucked, the image of Lumine at the counter of the little coffee shop came to mind. He fell asleep with his shoes still on.

The next day it was still raining. The raining had seemed to stop since the talk with Lumine. In fact it seemed to have gotten worse. The forecast was originally dry with some clouds, but can you really fault people trying to predict the future for not getting it right all the time? His plans were nothing but to fall back asleep, but his lungs had other plans as another bout of coughing forced him to sit up.

He swore between coughs, holding his hand to his mouth as fluids got caught in his throat. The cough became a hack and before he knew it his head was over the side of the bed throwing up the contents of his stomach. Or what he thought would be the contents of his stomach. His mouth tasted salty. It was familiar and nothing like regular bile. Once he had caught his breath, Ajax was able to open his eyes, dreading the knowledge of what he was about to see but to his surprise it was water. Just water. Maybe it made sense? He had barely eaten a thing, the only thing he could bare being plain rice and water. So... nothing to worry about.

At some point, Ajax had passed out on the sofa with the TV on. The curtains were open, the street lights orange glow is what stirred him awake. The salty taste hadn't left his mouth no matter how much water he had to drink, and stomach threaten to hurl again. A sweat had broken out over his body, soaking through his top. When had he taken off his jacket and jeans? They were on the floor next to him but he had no recollection of getting undressed. Archons his head hurt. This went beyond a flu. He'd never felt so sick in his life. Should he call an ambulance? Even the idea of speaking with another human made him ill. No, until he was actually on the brink of death, he'd weather it out.

Ajax laid there staring at the ceiling, every so often a light from a car would move over head. He should get up and close the curtains. Fuck.

Despite his aching muscles, Ajax pulled himself up with a grunt, tshirt sticking to his back. He found the strength to close the curtain, glad to be surrounded by nothing but the darkness of the room. However just as he was about to return to the sofa, the cupboard caught his eye. He hadn't opened it since the other day, rotating the clothes on his floor and furniture as a way to get by. He'd been to sick to think much of it, but he couldnt ignore it forever.

Ajax approached the door, despite opening it gently, the hinges gave and it fell off landing half on the floor half against the wall. He didn't have the strength to care.

On his knees he pushed clothes to the side until he found the object laying there. It was oddly eerie, like a cursed doll in an antique shop. It felt possessed or worse. His fever was making him delusional, he didn't believe in that crap... However, the last time he held it, he hadn't been able to let it go. Everything had started with this, with the photos, with... Gods he still didn't know what he had done wrong to freak Lumine out like he had. But despite all their time together, for some reason that night is when she finally decided to tell him something she had known from day one. And this was his key to settling this. Ajax reach out and picked up the object. He was expecting... something. Anything. Like in the movies? Some beam of light or great epiphany. There was nothing.

For the next few hours, Ajax analysed the vision, in part hoping it would flash the way it had a few days ago (though he realised that could have been in his head). It got to a point he was certain he could draw it from memory. Tear drop like with 2 spikes either side, the metal was silver in colour but he had no clue what it was made of. The gem was solid grey like a thick wall of fog. And like a thick wall of fog, he couldnt tell if it stopped suddenly or it went on for infinity. Something told him it was the latter. Which was insane. It's a fucking stone.

Ajax decided looking at it and waiting was doing nothing but annoy him. So he wacked it against the kitchen top. Nothing. He did it again. Nothing. A third time? The counter top cracked. What the fuck...

A surge of sickness came over him. He threw up in the sink. Water. Salty water. Fuck he was so annoyed staring at the bottom of his kitchen basin. He'd lost the only person he had cared for since his discharge from the army, he was about to lose his job, he was about to start from nothing all over again. Alone in a world that never wanted him to begin with. In a fit of blind rage Ajax punched the cupboard, denting the wood. His fever numbed him to the pain, the splinters in his knuckles, and the way the vision in his fist had impaled his palm from the force. Catching his breath he pulled his adrenaline induced shaking hand from the door. Beads of blood ran down his arm, dripping off his elbow to the cheap tile floor, the vision coated in splotches of red. In the darkness it was hard to see the hairline fracture in the gems surface, or how the blood seeped in. Ajax calmed himself lowering his arm to his side with the item in his grip, and ran the tap to fill the near by glass. Despite the way his other uninjured hand shook, he was able to fill the glass, turn off the tap and raise the rim to his lips. However, before he could take a sip, his sight became a focused and his body went limp. The last thing he heard was the shatter of glass as his body hit the floor.

The sound of nothing, the weight of nothing, a darkness so encompassing and vast that went beyond human comprehension.

Something broke that nothing sound, that nothing weight, that darkness... a song, carried by a great beast. Darkness over took darkness. Had he blinked? Whatever it was, revealed the stars that hid in the depths of the space he was submerged in. Water. He was surrounded by water and stars. What was in the distance? A blurry white speck was all he could make out... he blinked again, the speck was closer, yet still so far away. Blink. Closer. It was moving- no it was swimming. Blink. Was it a shark? A whale perhaps? Blink. It was... gone. Blink. An eye, large- larger than his body. It was a bright white, hooded by what seemed to be a metal husk. Despite not having an iris, it was looking at him, he could feel it.

Ajax awoke on his kitchen floor. He groaned as he came too, his head ached and his palm hurt but beyond that his nausea and fever seemed to have gone completely. Actually, he'd felt better now than he had in the past week.

After coming to a stand, he placed the vision- gem completely caked in blood- on the counter and went about cleaning the broken glass and water. After that was done, he washed off the blood from his wounded hand, cleaning it and bandaging it up with some expired medical gauze from under his sink.

Now for the vision, the tap still running he ran the item under the cold water, watching as the basin carried his caked blood down the hole. He rubbed his thumb over the gem and, to his surprise, the red was replaced by blue. A clear bright blue.

Oh Gods. He remembered everything.

Ajax was coming home from a grocery run. After the vision had turned blue, he noticed the crack hadn't gone. It was small and could only be seen if held at an angle but he knew it was there. He placed it in a shoe box in the bottom of his wardrobe and went about... figuring things out. What he wasn't expecting that day was to come home to a person he'd been longing to see more than words could express, the blonde traveller, the woman from the stars, the woman who ran a queer little coffee shop, his dear friend... the love of his life, stood at his complex's front door.

"Lumine..."

[jbbarnes]

some days, bucky feels all of his hundred plus years. but most days he's just some guy in his early thirties (he thinks. the cryo messed up calculating his age properly. maybe if he had all his memories of hydra or the reports of the length of his missions, he could figure it out but. he doesn't.) it freaks him out a little if people expect some great wisdom or knowledge from him just because of the year he was born.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

where's the trophy? he just comes running over to me!

ft; itoshi sae, michael kaiser, don lorenzo

how he reacts to your cheers after scoring the goal last second.

a/n: hear me out on lorenzo guys--like he's lowkey kinda fine…

------

itoshi sae

3…2…-!

“AND ITOSHI SAE SCORES THE FINISHING GOAL! the ending score is 5-4, with Real Madrid snatching the win!”

screams, tears, and cheers erupted in the stands instantaneously. you jumped up, a large ITOSHI sign printed on your long oversized jersey, cheering like no one else in the stands. some of sae's teammates jumped onto him as they cheered, although sae shoved them off before walking away.

his eyes glided across the crowds, hundreds of banners of his name in the stands. his eyes glossed over each of them as if they were nothing, although to him, those banners truly were nothing. without his skill and looks, those banners would have been nonexistent. finally, his eyes landed on something, and his pupils dilated.

there you were.

those banners and screaming fans were nothing, but you were everything. your messy hair and red face and angelically wide smile, much too oversized jersey that in sae's opinion fit perfectly on you. a tiny, barely even noticeable smile made its way onto sae's face. you looked down at him, eyes meeting his.

i’m so proud of you.

you had only mouthed five short words, but a blossoming feeling of warmth bloomed in sae's chest. and in that moment, to sae, there was no crowd, there was no media, there were no interviewers waiting to bombard him with questions, there were no teammates trying to jump onto him.

it was just you and him.

------

michael kaiser

“AND KAISER SHOOTS A KAISER IMPACT AT THE LAST SECOND! the ending score is 3-2!”

fans cheered, haters booed, but screams were unavoidable. flashes were everywhere, pictures being taken of kaiser soon to increase in number once again. kaiser waved a few times before beginning to look around the field, ignoring his teammates telling him about how the media wanted to interview him.

where were you?

finally, his eyes landed. the oversized KAISER jersey that hugged your knees, which had a drawing of a rose in blue sharpie and kaiser's signature on the part of the jersey that covered your heart. kaiser snickered on the outside, though his stomach was doing backflips on the inside. you came! he had thought that you were too busy in college.

kaiser raised his left his to his mouth, kissing his ring finger and blowing the kiss to you. he could see you laugh, which inflated his ego through the roof, before you also kissed your ring finger and blew a kiss to him back. the paparazzi had a keen eye, however, and they noticed it.

now, the mystery of the ring on kaiser's left ring finger has always had different interpretations by fans. after all, kaiser never denied having a lover or fiancée in interviews, as he often just smiled slyly before just simply asking for the next question. but to many other more soccer biased fans, they believed that kaiser didn't have enough care for other people to love. after all, everyone sees how kaiser treats ness on tv.

but the matching shining sapphire gems on golden bands on each of both of your left ring fingers suggested differently.

“i love you!”

kaiser swore that he just felt his heart explode when he heard you yell out those three familiar words with such a beautiful smile on your face.

------

don lorenzo

to most, don lorenzo was an unlovable creature aside from soccer.

completely golden teeth, messy purple black hair, far too lanky for anyone to be comfortable around, eyeshadow, and a small goatee. truly, his looks are unlovable. only when he scores a goal is he the most loved by people. well, lorenzo himself loves it too; more achievements in soccer means more money for him, right?

“ANDDDDDD LORENZO, A DEFENDER AND MEMBER OF THE U20 GENERATION 11, SCORES! the ending score is 4-3!”

lorenzo waved with both of his arms, a smile wide on his face. after a few seconds of his fans cheers, his eyes scanned the crowd, knowing that the love of his life would be in the VIP section somewhere. and he was right, the LORENZO jersey--possibly the only one in the crowds--was quite noticeable on you. everyone knew that you were lorenzo's girlfriend; in fact, in the soccer fandom, it's become a bit of a meme that “if lorenzo can bag a baddie, then you can too.” (affectionately, of course. but you weren't nearly as fond or accepting of the meme as lorenzo is.) after all, who could pass up the opportunity to gossip about how lorenzo's girlfriend is the girl who gave him money and food back when he lived on the streets?

“good job! i'm so proud of you! you did so good!” you shouted, smiling as both of your arms waved above your head. you blew him a few kisses before a smile crawled onto his face too. a few fans next to you whispered about you, but you couldn't care less.

and you know what? to lorenzo, money was worth the world, but you were worth the universe.

[fleuryuns]

presenting a fic by @FLEURYUNS

um... who is this?

IN WHICH after being dared to prank call one of the hottest sophomores on campus pretending to be a woman he met at a party, you're unexpectedly roped into the life of lee heeseung as you're forced to keep up the role.

PAIRING     ⟡     player!heeseung x fem!reader

UNIVERSE     ⨯     college/uni au

WARNINGS     ⟡     fake dating au, but was it ever really fake?, prank calls, hot boy!heeseung except he’s actually a loser, one (1) suggestive scene, cursing, smidge of angst, jay’s highkey an asshole, depictions of smoking, depictions of drinking and doing drugs

WORD COUNT     ⨯     16.7k

AUTHOR'S NOTE     . . .     inspired by the one and only, francesca stugot

Contrary to popular belief, Truth or Dare doesn't stop being fun after middle school. If anything, with higher stakes and getting rid of the PG-13 limitations, the game only becomes more intense as you get older.

Or so that was how you explained it to your friends in hopes to convince them to play a few rounds instead of studying for your midterms. But hey, it worked.

You laugh and clap your hands as you watch Yunjin complete her dare. She's surprisingly good at juggling, if you ignore the two failed attempts splattered on the floor. Why did Ryujin have to suggest using eggs of all things is beyond you.

"Okay, okay!" Yunjin catches the last few eggs. "I'm done, my hands are covered in yolk. Ew!"

The other girls echo her cries as she runs off to the bathroom to clean it off.

"It's Y/N's turn!" Ryujin calls out. You playfully glare at her from your side, pretending as if you haven't been impatiently waiting for your turn since the last round.

You hear Yunjin agree from afar. She asks you the impending question: "Truth or Dare?"

"Dare."

"Ooh, I've got a good one~" Her sing-songy tone is never a good sign, but you're too giddy to care, even with the girls ooh-ing and ahh-ing at their own recognition of it.

When she finally comes back, her hands free from eggshells and yolk, all eyes are on her. She looks from side to side for dramatic effect. Yunjin leans in. So does everyone else. She opens her mouth as if she'll start to speak, but nothing comes out before she closes it again with a teasing smile. Everyone groans.

"Out with it!" You say, throwing your arms up for emphasis.

She laughs. "I dare you to prank call Lee Heeseung acting as if you're some girl he met at the party last Friday."

Your face drops.

The girls cheer.

"Oh my god!" You hear Yizhuo yell. "You're a genius!"

"I didn't even go, though," you protest.

Yunjin shrugs. "Makes it even better." Just as you're about to rebut, she raises a finger and interrupts. "Ah! And don't say you don't have his number 'cause I know you used to send him the notes when he missed class last semester." She holds up your phone tauntingly, and you can't help but wonder when she took it away from the speaker, where it was paired to your playlist.

Curse her and her impeccable memory.

"Urgh, fine!" You give in, extending your hand for your phone.

As you type away your passcode and scroll to find the phone app, you reluctantly punch in his name (simply saved as "Lee Heeseung (SNU)" — nothing crazy!) The girls giggle to themselves about the heartthrob since high school.

Everyone and their mother knows about Heeseung. Almost everyone and their mother has been with Heeseung. Yourself excluded, obviously. And, unfortunately for them, excluding most of the girls here, too.

Yizhuo had the grace to spend a night with him and “came back a woman”. (Her words.)

Now, she's scooting closer to you, leaning her ear near the phone you're bringing to your ear.

It rings. Ring!

Once. Ring!

Twice.

"What if he doesn't—"

"Hello," a groggy tone questions from the other side of the line.

The girls all fail to cover their squeals.

Heeseung makes a confused noise. "Um... Who is this?"

"Uh...." Your eyes widen. You didn't really think this far ahead, hoping deep down that he wouldn't pick up at all. Eyeing Yunjin, screaming "Help Me!" with your expression. "This is... Hana..."

"Hana?"

"Kang. Kang Hana," you clarified. "We met at the, uh, party last Friday. At Jay's."

There's a moment of silence through the phone. Then some shuffling noises from his side. You sit patiently waiting for his reaction.

"Kang Hana," he repeats slowly. You hum to him.

"Yeah, we had a good time together, didn't we?"

He pauses. "I guess? Can you remind me?"

You begin to tell a tale about your encounter, barely keeping track of the details, letting your imagination run wild, stopping to listen to Heeseung hum in hesitant confusion.

Kang Hana arrived last out of all guests, immediately running to the kitchen for her first drink of the night. Then, she found herself swaying to the music on the living room dance floor, where she met Lee Heeseung. He had his arms placed respectfully on her hips, letting her guide his moves. He whispered that they should get out of there. She agreed.

They spent an hour or two engaging in conversation about anything and everything on the front patio, ignoring the smokers around the corner.

Hana not only arrived late, but also had to leave early. And so, she left Heeseung stranded, left to drink his grief away in hopes of forgetting all about her.

Yizhuo leans a little too far, enjoying the story too much, her head knocking over your hand, making you both tip to the side. You let out a squeal into the phone.

"Woah!" Heeseung yelps, pulling his phone away from his ear. Or you suppose, hearing his voice fade a little in the distance. With the phone away from him, it's able to pick up on the surrounding sounds better, and you realize he isn't alone either.

"Who is it?" You hear from the phone. The voice sounds familiar and you can almost make it out. Must either be Sunghoon or Jay, his best friends, you assume.

Heeseung doesn't miss a beat before responding, "Y/N."

Your heart does a flip. Yunjin's eyes widen. Ryujin chokes on the juice box she'd been sipping on. Yizhuo is still lying on the floor, only her mouth is significantly more agape.

"You knew it was me?"

He chuckled. "Obviously," he says matter of factly. Heat rises to your cheeks. "Took me a second, I'm a little tipsy, haha."

"Oh." Your eyes dart to the girls again. "Am I interrupting?"

"You're never a bother, babe."

Babe? "Huh," you let out unintentionally.

The girls furrow their brows one by one. Although they probably can't hear every word, they can clearly hear the weird turn this conversation has taken.

"Are you with the girls?"

You shake your head in confusion. "Um, yeah, I am." You're still trying to figure out what he meant by the pet name.

"I don't want to keep you if you're having fun." The smile on his face is clear as day in his flirty tone. "Text me later though, okay?"

"Okay?" Slowly, you pull the phone down and end the call. The second it hits your lap, it buzzes again.

Ping! New message!

이희승 (SNU) Kang Hana? 23:04

"What was that about?" Ryujin asks.

You don't respond yet. Focusing on the typing bubbles at the bottom of yours and Heeseung's no-longer-blank messenger.

이희승 (SNU) ik you weren't at Jay's last week 23:04

ME and i know you don't call random people 'babe' ?? 23:05 

이희승 (SNU) can i call you later? 23:05

ME i wasn't lying when i said i'm with my friends 23:05

ME tomorrow? 23:06

이희승 (SNU) let's meet up at the café on campus 23:07

"Hello, hello, Earth to Y/N?" Your head snaps up as you click off your phone. Yunjin waves her hand dramatically across your face to catch your attention. Ironically, it works. "You're still in there? Or did Hana take over?��

You blink up at her, then offer a small smile. “Sorry, that was weird,” you laugh. They all look at you expectantly, as if waiting for you to explain or give more details, but you’re not sure what to give them. “Alright, who’s next?”

You manage to drift the topic away from Heeseung and Kang Hana’s encounter. Yizhuo nearly fails her own dare, but succeeds in getting the neighbours number. After Ryujin answers her Truth (”If you had to kiss any of the girls in this room, who would it be?” “Well, I already have, but I’d say Y/N.”), you all decide to call it a night.

Ryujin and Yizhuo head out together; their rooms in the same dorm-building across the road. Meanwhile Yunjin begs to stay the night, opting to sleep on the floor because she can’t be bothered to pay for a cab ride to her apartment off campus.

Your thoughts keep coming back to Heeseung calling you babe, for some reason. Rubbing at your cheeks to snap yourself out of it, you sigh when you realize that it doesn’t do anything to help the blush that spreads further up your cheekbones to the tips of your ears the more you think about him.

Monday mornings have a bad reputation, and you completely understand why.

The sunlight creeps through a slip in your curtains and shines right in your eyes as you startle awake from a dream starring your party-animal alias and the campus heartthrob. Checking the time, you groan as the bright numbers ‘06:27’ glare back at you.

Your promise to a rendez-vous last night pushes you up and out of bed. You carefully side-step to not wake Yunjin, who’s still sprawled out on the floor.

You grab yourself some cereal and a cold glass of orange juice to fuel yourself before hopping into the shower. When you get out, it’s 6:44, a minute before your alarm rings loudly. You’re convinced everyone on this floor can hear it, but luckily you haven't gotten any complaints thus far.

Yunjin stirs finally. “Dude…”

“Wakey wakey, Sunshine,” you tell her, standing above her with a cheesy smile. “I have cereal and oatmeal.”

She rubs at her eyes, still laced with tiredness. “I’ll just grab something at the café after classes. I should get going, anyway.”

It doesn't take long for Yunjin to get dressed and leave the room promptly. She’s spent so many nights at your dorm that you took the time to clear up some space in the drawer for her stuff so she doesn’t need to rush out before even the sun’s awake.

When you’re left alone in your room, you pull out your phone again, the screen already opening into the chat room you visited last night.

ME what time do your classes end? just wanna know when i should get to the café 06:59

You wait. And wait. And wait some more for his response. You notice he hasn't even been online since you sent your message and decide to give him some more time.

Although he definitely has classes today, you assume, he might not be as much of an early riser like yourself.

In the meantime, you busy yourself with getting ready for your own classes. You pack your bag with all its supplies, checking your phone every so often, hoping to see it light up with a notification.

Ping!

All you can think is, “Finally,” but unfortunately when you pick it up, the notification reads: @jenaissante has made a new post!

“What am I doing?” you ask yourself out loud.

Since when do you sit and stare at your phone in hopes that some guy is going to answer you? How embarrassing.

You shake it off, grab your bag, and head out to your first class.

Walking down the comfortably silent hallways of your dorm building makes you think that out of everyone, you might be the only one awake. However, you stand corrected as you’re greeted with a door almost slamming you in the face.

Coincidentally, as the owner of said door says, “I’m so sorry!” and you respond, “It’s okay! I’m okay!” your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Nearly making your bag topple out of your hands as you reach for it, your shoulders relax when you see who the message is from:

이희승 (SNU) i hate mondays 07:33

You bid your goodbyes to the door-slammer.

ME good morning to you too 07:33 

이희승 (SNU) 😑😑 07:34

이희승 (SNU) i don’t have classes today. when do yours end? 07:34

ME no classes and yet you're awake so early? i'm impressed lee heeseung 07:36

ME i have my 8AM that ends at 10, then a three hour gap until my next class 07:36

이희승 (SNU) oof three hours 07:36

ME i’m on campus so it's not too bad tbh 07:37

이희승 (SNU) 10 o’clock it is? 07:39

ME sounds good 07:40

You shut off your phone and look up to realize you've made it to the building.

You find it weird how easily you’re already getting distracted by Heeseung, even though you’ve barely interacted, much less talked in person since last semester when you shared a class.

Even then, neither of you ran in the same groups, so your conversations were very limited to assignments and bad-talking the professor.

Of course, you’ve heard a lot about him, but none of it ever involved you. At most Yizhuo was being very descriptive about her night with him, though even then—especially then—you didn't pay it or him much attention.

Deciding to push him out of your mind entirely, you pull out your laptop and set up your notes, waiting for the professor to arrive and start class.

After two long hours, you’re dismissed from class. You tell your professor goodbye and head for the door, but come to a stop when you see a familiar figure leaning against the glass on the other side. Taking quicker steps to come around, you meet face to face with Lee Heeseung.

“Hi,” he says calmly.

“What are you doing here?”

His smile falters. “I came to pick you up.”

Your eyes dart to both sides of the hallway, as if waiting for Yunjin or someone to pop out. “How did you know this is where my class is?”

For the first time in your life, you watch Heeseung lose his cool composure. He stumbles over his words before clarifying, “I asked around.”

You try not to think too hard on it, eyeing him suspiciously before humming. His shoulders relax and he claps his hands together before pivoting toward the stairwell.

“Shall we?” He turns to you, extending his arms as if he’s some royal guard leading the crown princess into a carriage.

“Yes, we shall.” You play along because what the heck. And his smile is worth it.

The two of you make your way down to the café just across campus, not really talking on your way there, but staying close. It’s not as if some sort of secret operation is going down, so neither of you make a move to act like you don't know each other.

Come to think of it, you really don't know what's the purpose of all the theatrics. He even opens the door for you when you get there. Has he always been a gentleman?

From what you’ve heard, Heeseung is a player through and through. Typical, textbook heartthrob who makes people fall for him, toys around with that idea, and then leaves them to pick themselves up. Or, he’ll spend one magical night with a random hookup he meets at one of the million parties his rich friends throw every weekend, only to leave them in the dirt in the morning.

(Literally. Stories went around about this one girl he hooked up with outside. She woke up in Sunghoon’s backyard with only her bra and panties on. Or so you’ve heard.)

He leads you to the counter where the barista takes your order quickly. Just as you're about to reach into your bag for your wallet, Heeseung waves his hand in front of you. “Don’t worry about it,” he says before taking out his card and paying before you can reply.

“Thanks.” You try to come up with something better, but run short. “I’ll pay next time,” you say before you can stop yourself.

“Next time,” he says with an unreadable tone.

You want to reply, but nothing comes out. Instead, your eyes drift back to the barista. You watch him prepare your drinks and you silently pray that he goes faster so you can move on.

Luckily, he listens. “Alright, one iced caffe latte with vanilla syrup, and one dark chocolate mocha for the couple.” The man makes a dramatic turn with the drinks, adding a theatrical wave of his hand to you two.

“Oh, we’re not—”

“Thank you,” Heeseung replies with a smile. He takes a hold of both drinks and motions for you to lead him to a table.

And so you do.

“So,” he says as he sits down. “Kang Hana—” A wink. Your drink is suddenly very interesting. “—I have a proposal for you.”

“Proposal,” you question, raising your cup along with your brow. You take a sip and set it back down. “Go on.”

He takes his own sip. For a moment, you watch him appreciate the taste. He closes his eyes for a fraction of a second in satisfaction, traces of the drink left on his lips. It takes everything in you not to reach over and wipe it yourself. So, you hand him a napkin.

He thanks you before proceeding. “Okay, fine, it's more of an ask rather than a proposal because you won’t technically—” He adds air quotes. “—be gaining anything out of this.”

Now you’re very curious. You let him speak.

“There’s this girl…” he starts. His eyes drift away to the other tables, almost trying to deduce if anyone would want to eavesdrop and spread gossip of what he says next. “I really like her.”

Oh god. You’ve heard this before. Usually it only happens by boy best friends, but basically complete strangers work too, you guess. You prepare yourself.

“And, I just don’t know how to tell her—”

“Listen, Heeseung,” you cut him off. “We barely know each other. I don’t think you’re really thinking this through. How can you even trust your feelings when you barely know me?”

He blinks at you. “What?”

Your heart drops. “You’re not confessing to me.”

Heeseung lets out a short breathy laugh. He awkwardly scratches the back of his neck and answers. “No… Not exactly.”

“Oh my god, this is so embarrassing.” You let your head drop into the palms of your hands, but when you feel his hand on your arm, you snap your head up.

He rapidly retracts his hand of reassurance and lets it float above your arm for a second. “No, no, that’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed,” he assures you, only with his hand now in his lap. “I’m actually a little embarrassed about what I’m trying to ask you—If you’re up for it!”

“Can’t be more embarrassing than I feel right now,” you reply between small sips of your drink.

“Can we date? Wait, this isn't a confession, I meant like can we fake date? Like date, but not actually date. Not that that would be an awful thing to do! I just like this girl and…” His eyes are comically large as he rambles the same reformulated question. The embarrassment slips away as you watch his cheeks redden. “If you’re comfortable,” he finishes more quietly.

You take a moment, both to see if he’s really done, but also to consider your options. “Why?”

“Right.” He nods. “So, as I was saying… There’s this girl I like, and I want to get closer to her and ask her out, but we’ve talked before and she hates that I’m—” More air quotes. “—A player.”

You raise your brow at his words. “Put down the air quotes, then we’ll be on the same page.”

He rolls his eyes imperturbably. “You know what I mean…”

“How would fake dating help you start actually dating? Sounds counterproductive ‘cause doesn't that just make you unavailable?”

“I want to prove to her that I’m more than just—” He waves his arms around to search for the word. “—more than just some guy that goes from girl to girl as if nothing.”

You nod. “But… Isn’t this, kinda, lying? Since you haven't actually been in a long term relationship.”

“I mean, yeah, if you think about it like that.” He takes a sip of his drink, and when his lips part from the straw, you notice he bite it as he drank. You shake your head. “I’m just showing her that I’m capable of being in a long term relationship. I’m a serious guy looking for something serious.”

The snort you let out is entirely accidental. He looks faux-offended as he wipes off the drops of your drink that fell out of your cup. “Sorry,” you say, also wiping your arm. “You’re a serious guy. For sure, for sure.”

“I am,” he protests. “I take things very seriously. Like this rendez-vous. I’m normally still in bed at this time.”

This catches your attention. “Wait, why did you get up so early though? We didn't have a set time ready, you could've slept in.”

He shrugs timidly. “I knew you mostly take morning classes, so I wanted to be up when you were…” His sentence goes quieter by the end of it, with no help from him reaching for another sip of his drink, which is practically empty at this point, so the tension in the air only grows thicker with the ear-piercing sounds of him drinking air through a straw.

“Oh,” you say slowly. “I stand corrected.”

He nods.

You bite your lip out of habit. “So, shouldn't we discuss the, like, rules to this… Scheme?”

“Wait, you’re gonna do it?” He seems genuinely surprised. And cutely excited.

“Yeah,” you shrug, trying to act nonchalant. “What’s there to lose, I guess. But—” You raise a hand. “We need to figure out these ground rules and I need to get something out of this.”

He agrees easily. And you settle on asking him to put in a good word to one of his friends, Jay, who happens to be the son of the man who owns one of the most respected law firms in the country—you want in on it.

“So, you’re going to be a lawyer?”

Heat rises to your cheeks bashfully. “Yeah, it’s always been my passion.”

Heeseung’s eyes widen in astonishment. “Does that mean I should be more careful with how we set this up? Should we sign a contract to make it official?”

You laugh. “Do you have a printer? We could write one up if you want.”

He plays along with the joke, which eventually leads to him opening his notes app and writing down the rules you settle on together:

You cannot tell ANYONE that this is a set-up. If [REDACTED] finds out it’s a lie, how is Heeseung supposed to find love 💔

Stick to the same story: We met last semester and have been keeping it lowkey. We got together during the break.

Hang out in public at least twice a week. (Heeseung will make plans to make sure his crush will see them.)

Hand holding is a must while out together.

No kissing. Not on the cheek, and not on the lips.

Y/N has to attend all some do you want to make a good impression or not FINE all of Jay’s parties. 

Fake relationship must last AT LEAST two months. Further discussion of whether or not the (FAKE) relationship continues will take place then.

“Now…”

“What’s wrong?”

You watch Heeseung look from right to left, reaching down into his pockets for something, but he comes up with nothing. “How are you going to sign it?”

As unexpected as it is, you have to laugh. “Here, let me,” you respond between laughs, reaching out for his phone, which he hands you swiftly.

At the bottom of the page, you add:

I, Y/N L/N, accept these terms and conditions.

“Your turn.”

And he does the same with his own name.

I, Lee Heeseung, accept these terms and conditions.

“Perfect, so it’s settled.” He claps unceremoniously. “Here’s to the start of Kang Hana and Lee Heeseung’s fake relationship.”

He raises his cup toward you, and you get the memo to clink! your own against his. It’s silly considering they’re plastic cups that make nothing but a wsh! sound when bumped together, but the sentiment is there.

You spend a few more minutes sitting together in silence as you finish your drink.

You’re not sure why Heeseung hasn't left yet. Your business together is done for now, and he’s long finished with his own drink. You decide, however, that you’re glad he stayed.

As you’re stuck in thought, you don't notice that you're staring. You don't see the sly smile that creeps on his lips. And you certainly don't realize Yunjin is watching this scene go down from behind the window.

The front door’s bell snaps you out of your trance, when you finally feel the eye contact you're making with Heeseung. You pull your eyes away shyly, sipping on your drink until it bottoms out.

Unbeknownst to you, Yunjin makes her over to you and Heeseung with a confused expression painted over her features.

“Y/N,” she says. Your eyes widen at your friend leaning over the table to look at the two of you. “What’s going on here?” She teasingly points between you and Heeseung, wiggling her eyebrows all-knowingly.

Suddenly, you forget all your words.

Luckily, Heeseung smoothly takes the lead, already playing his role. “We’re on a date.”

This takes Yunjin by surprise, if her gasp paired with widened eyes says anything. “A date?”

“Yeah,” he says, drawing out the syllable. He looks at you with telling eyes, as if asking if you want to add on. You slightly shake your head only for him to see. “We were actually just finishing up. Right?”

Your cue. “Right, yeah.” You clear your throat awkwardly.

Yunjin raises her hands defensively. “Well, I don’t want to interrupt any more than I already have… So, you two have fun….” She leans over to whisper into your ear. Heeseung raises a brow from his side, but turns away to pretend he isn’t listening to it. “You’ll have to tell me all about this later.”

She bids you goodbye and makes her way to the counter, making no effort in acting as if she’s not staring at your table, watching your every move, as if to assess the situation.

Your hand comes up to the side of your face to subtly cover your mouth from her prying eyes. “We should really get out of here.”

Heeseung nods. “Slowly, we don’t want her to think anything.”

“Is it really so important to keep it from my best friend, though?”

“Yes!” Heeseung says in a whisper-yell. He smiles over to Yunjin who’s blissfully unaware of his outburst, probably thinking the two of you are joking around. Turning back to you, his voice lowers. “We can’t let anyone know the truth, not right now.”

You wonder what you’re getting yourself into now that it’s in play.

He ends up walking you back to your dorm, making his way into the building and all the way to your floor, walking you to your door, even after you insist he doesn’t have to. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t make sure you got back safely?”

“Fake-boyfriend,” you point out.

He nods. “Fake.”

While opening the door, you have a weird urge to ask if he wants to stay for a little. You brush off the feeling and turn back to him. “See you…” You stray, not really sure when you’ll see each other.

“Tomorrow,” he finishes. “For our first official date. Fake date.”

You nod your head, and that’s it. He walks backward into the hall, waving to you, before he turns to watch where he’s going. You only wave back when his back is turned.

Too caught up in whatever the hell you’ve agreed on, you spend the rest of the day burying yourself in studies. Midterms are around the corner, so may as well get some work done now. You also can’t bear to spend another minute with Heeseung’s stupidly pretty face, and smile, and everything stuck in your head.

Throughout the afternoon, then into the evening, your phone buzzes over and over again. You don’t even bother checking in fear that it’s Heeseung.

When you head off to bed, you quickly scroll away from your notifications and open Yunjin’s chat, where you see she’s been spamming you pretty much until you passed out. You note the time and feel the relief wash over you as you realize she must already be asleep by now. You start typing away.

ME i’ll tell you everything tmrw 01:47

ME meet me at the quad in the morning 01:47

As opposed to Monday mornings, Tuesdays have a different, much more optimistic air. It’s as if everyone’s realized that maybe this week won’t be so bad, so might as well put on a smile before heading to classes.

You don’t have early classes today, so you head down to the quad as promised, a knot forming in your stomach on your way.

There’s nothing you hate more than keeping things from your friends, especially Yunjin. Trust is something you really value in your friendship, as you’re both very open with each other, this feels like breaking it, even though it isn’t necessarily a bad lie to tell.

Taking a deep breath, you convince yourself that it’s for a good cause and she’ll understand once you tell her the truth.

You’re surprised not only by the fact that Yunjin is already sitting at one of the tables, wide awake and ready to hear your tale, but also the fact that she is with company: Yizhuo and Ryujin, respectively.

“Well, well, well,” she says with jokingly menacing crossed arms. She adds to the character a dubious expression. “What do we have here? Lee Heeseung’s girlfriend?”

Yizhuo laughs. “Are you serious? When were you going to tell us?”

From the other side of the table, Ryujin adds on. “Yeah, this seems like a pretty big deal!”

You sit down next to Ryujin, facing Yunjin’s excitedly curious eyes. She leans over the table and grabs your hands. “Tell. Us. Everything,” she enunciates every word for emphasis.

“Um,” you start oh-so confidently. You think back to the contract you “signed” and the storyline you decided with Heeseung. “I’ve been, kinda, seeing Heeseung since October—”

“October!?” Yizhuo yells. “Why’ve you been keeping this from us?!”

“We wanted to keep it lowkey before we decided if we were really serious about this.” The lies slip off your tongue easily, but they leave a bitter aftertaste. “I was talking with him about telling you guys, at least, right when Yunjin walked in on us.”

Ryujin raises a brow. “Walked in on you? Were you…?”

You slap her arm playfully. “Nothing like that, nothing like that! I meant at the café yesterday.”

“We’ve never even seen you two together… How lowkey were you keeping it?”

Yunjin looks at you expectantly. You avoid direct eye contact, afraid she’d be able to see the truth through your eyes. “We text a lot and facetime pretty much every night,” you explain, hoping it’s convincing. “And he’d sometimes come over, but we always made sure none of you would find out.” You make sure to slip in an apology at the end of the statement.

Yizhuo’s the one to wave her arm and deny your apology. “Girl, you got yourself a man, how could we be mad at you?” Her eyes widen in realization. “The prank call, oh my God!”

“Yeah, that took some explaining… But he thought Kang Hana was pretty funny.”

“Speak of the devil,” Yunjin teases, nodding her head behind you.

You turn around and lo and behold is Lee Heeseung himself, followed by Park Sunghoon and Park Jay. If this were a 90s romcom scene, their walk would be in slowmo, the camera would pan to girls and boys fanning themselves as they walk by, some would be fainting in their path. Sunghoon would have to step over someone’s unconscious body, Jay would pick a rose from the bush and hand it to one of his followers and they would blush until their whole face is as red as a tomato.

Instead, they’re walking at a regular pace, but you notice the way seems to run through their hair perfectly. That’s what you get when you’re jaw-droppingly attractive, you think. And then you furrow your brows at your thoughts.

When the boys get closer, Heeseung smiles. “Hi, you.”

“Hi,” you say in return. Your heart beats faster.

“So,” Jay, the one on his left, says. “You’re Y/N.”

You nod. “Nice to meet you—”

“Y’know, it’s funny ‘cause Heeseung never mentioned you?” The question throws you off, more than the smile he has plastered on his face. “Keeping it hidden from us like we’re Dispatch, or something.”

Heeseung places his hand on Jay’s shoulder, taking the lead. He sends you a reassuring look before speaking. “It was my idea, mostly,” he explains. “Let’s not take it out on my girl.”

My girl. You smile shyly.

Addressing your friends, Heeseung smiles politely. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“You too,” Ryujin says.

“You better be treating her right,” Yunjin says teasingly, but with a touch of seriousness, if you know her right.

Heeseung raises his arms defensively. “She’s the one to decide on that front.”

You laugh. He’s really good at this. “Don’t worry guys, he’s been good to me.”

The two of you share a moment in silence, just watching each other. Heeseung’s the first to break it, not necessarily looking away, but ending your silent conversation. “I take it you dressed for our date, right?”

You blink at him in confusion. “Where are we going?”

“So you really didn't see my text?” He pouts. You’re almost convinced he means it. Wow, I’m going to have to step up my game.

“Sorry, I was really busy studying, I shut off my phone for the day after you left.”

He tuts at you jokingly. “Well, I guess it’ll have to be a surprise.” He extends his arm and offers you his hand. Automatically, you take a hold of it, letting him pull you up in the process. Heeseung turns to your friends and smiles politely. “Again, it was nice to officially meet you all, I’ve heard so much. And—” Facing his friends, he says: “I’ll text you later.”

Then, you’re off, holding hands as he leads you to the parking lot.

The car ride isn’t too long, luckily. You find yourself anticipating what Heeseung has planned, only for you to crush that anticipation when you remember what this is all for.

Her, not you.

Although, you still don’t know who she is.

“Will you ever tell me who this girl is?” you ask as he takes another turn, arriving in a parking lot. Finally in view, you realize you’re at Plus One Games as you watch the big, bold glowing sign. “The arcade?”

“She works here,” he says, promptly ignoring your first question. He pops the keys out of the ignition and turns to you. “Are you ready?”

You hum and the two of you make your way to the comically large front doors. He holds it open, and you thank him as you walk past him, staring in awe at the decor.

Plus One Games is known for its grandeur in the gaming world. You didn’t grow up in these areas, but you’ve heard all about it. It’s expensive and you wonder how Heeseung is able to afford it—He must really like this girl.

The lobby is decorated like a gameboard, the stands where the employees greet the customers resembling game pieces, meanwhile there are signs pointing in every direction to where you may want to go, which look like signs straight out of a Super Mario Bros game.

Unbeknownst to you, you begin to wander while you’re looking at the set-up of the entrance, entranced by the level and precision of the design. Heeseung notices, however, and grabs ahold of your hand, spinning you on your heels and leading you to the cloakroom.

“Can’t let you get lost,” he teases, his head nodding to your hand in his which he raises to eye level.

You flush in your spot, unable to get yourself to pull your hand away.

After depositing your coats and changing into the shoes the staff hand the two of you by the door, you’re quick to let Heeseung guide you through the games and stations. He clearly has a map set up in his mind by the way he easily glides through the place, your hand still tightly in his hold.

He brings the both of you to the bumper cars first, wearing a cheeky grin as he handsomely gestures for you to step into the rink before him. To play along, you bow gratefully like an heiress guided by her guard. He laughs, placing a hand by your lower back to help direct you.

How could someone forget how fun bumper cars are? Because now you’re reminded of the joys of ramming your rubber-ringed play car into the people around you. Luckily, it’s not too crowded, so you have plenty of room to strategically avoid Heeseung’s attempts to knock you over, only to turn around and get him instead.

You’re full of laughter, and so is he. In fact, his face is completely red and you can only assume that yours is a similar shade.

Your laughter doesn’t even die down when the dispiriting buzzer sounds in the mini-arena, prompting the cars to stop in their place and the employee to safely instruct you and the other customers on how to get out.

“So, where to next?” Your smile transcends into your words, but you don’t care enough to be self-conscious about it.

Heeseung pretends to be in deep thought, plastering a dramatic pout of curiosity. “Where to… Where to…” he repeats. He lifts a finger in the air in perfect timing with the music blaring through the speakers above. You laugh at the movement. “Let’s try to win some prizes, hm?”

You assume this is probably some kind of way for him to say that the girl he likes is working the counter. Either way, you agree.

“Ice ball,” he suggests.

“I’ll have you know—” You flick your hair behind your shoulder for character. “—I’m kind of a pro at this.”

He raises his brow. “Oh, are you?”

Instead of responding, you grab the keycard and swipe it across the gamepad, watching as the game’s sign lights up as it starts up. Balls roll out from the dispenser and you grab your first one. You pretend to give it a kiss before rolling it up.

It does not go on.

Heeseung laughs.

You clear your throat and try again. The second does not go in.

Nor does the third. Or the fourth.

“Maybe I should try,” Heeseung proposes playfully.

“Fine,” you grumble, though not seriously. You go on to say he has no shot, the game is rigged and—

His first try goes in.

And his second. Then his third.

The game rings “Winner! Winner!” and tickets begin pouring out of the gamepad.

Heeseung ends up beating you in every game you play, always winning a ridiculous amount of tickets or a silly prize that comes with it. Pinball, mini-basketball, Spin-It-To-Win-It, you name it. He even beats the claw machine which is famously rigged in these kinds of places. You suggested it just to see Heeseung lose, yet here he is flaunting his little stuffed turtle he pulled out of it.

He waves the turtle in your face and you swat it away from you. “Aw, c’mon, Y/N, you don’t want Mr. Turtle?”

“You named him Mr. Turtle,” you deadpan.

He smiles cheekily. “It’s a fitting name.” He then takes your hand by the wrist, flipping it over so your open palm faces upward. Gently, Heeseung places Mr. Turtle into your hand, closing your fingers around it. “Here, you can have him.”

As much as you want to keep up your stingy role of a sore loser and throw it back at him, you shyly thank Heeseung for the gesture and place Mr. Turtle comfortably against your bag, so he can look out into the world without you needing to worry about him falling off because he’s safely attached to the strap.

After a match of laser tag—which you end up winning with Heeseung because you were against another couple—a couple of PEOPLE!—and then racing up to the top of the rock climbing wall, you grab a couple slices of pizza together and call it a day.

The pizza is greasy and frankly a little gross, you’re convinced it’s leftovers from yesterday, but it’s just what you need.

Heeseung comes back to the table with two bottles of pop. “Which one?” He raises both for you to see your options. You point to the red one, probably some off-brand strawberry or raspberry flavoured soda, and he passes it to you.

Chugging down the mystery drink, you find yourself content with the day's events.

When you get to the car, Heeseung holds the door open for you once again. You thank him quietly, getting in at the same time. You force your head down to stop yourself from watching as he makes his way around to his side.

It’s silent for a moment as he turns on the ignition and pulls out of the parking spot. The way he places his hand against the back of your seat, his arm in full view, makes your heart stutter. You take a second to compose yourself.

“So.” You look up at Heeseung with telling eyes and a teasing smile. “Did you see her?”

His mouth opens in a mute ‘ah,’ but he shakes his head, keeping his gaze on the road ahead. “I guess she wasn’t working today.”

And honestly, you can’t even be mad about it because it went so well. You tell yourself this is just a stepping stone in the fake relationship. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

He drives you back to campus and follows you all the way to the building before you tell him he doesn’t need to come up with you. Although he tries to push it, it’s hard to ignore how tired he is from the way he drawls.

As you walk back into your dorm, you’re greeted with your phone buzzing to infinity with messages from the girls’ group chat. You laugh at their bickering as they wait for your updates and you almost opt to stay silent to see how far it goes.

The following days go on similarly. Between hanging out with your friends, attending classes and studying for midterms, you’re going out on dates with Heeseung. Fake dates, but you soon learn he’s a really good actor.

Then you update the girls on the happenings of the date, steadily avoiding the parts hinting at your deal.

Your first date following the arcade is at the library. At first, you don’t see how Heeseung would consider this a date, until he shows up at your dorm with roses and chocolates. “Bring these with you,” he says. “She should be studying there for another hour, or two if she’s really into it.”

You abstain from commenting on the fact that if she’s “really into it,” is he even sure she’ll notice either of you, because you’re in need for a good study session with a friend, and as much as you love your friends, they have a hard time focusing when you’re all together.

It’s nice. Heeseung is as hard of a worker as you remember from the previous semester. Every now and then, you’ll look up and find his eyebrows furrowed at the paper in front of him, so you ask to help him out if you can. He does the same to you, you realize. As you look down at your notes, biting your lip at the same phrase you’ve been staring at for a while now, Heeseung taps the table right in front of your book with his pencil. “Need any help?”

You only remember once he brings you back to your dorm that you never asked about the girl. You’re not even sure if she was there since he didn’t say anything.

Yizhuo is offended that you find your girls-only study sessions unhelpful. Ryujin playfully slaps her shoulder.

For another date, he takes you to the movies.

“And this is helpful… how exactly?”

He shrugs and raises a hand to sheepishly scratch the back of his neck. “I may have told her I wanted to see the movie. And then I may have panicked buying them in front of her, I don’t want to risk her seeing me bring someone else when I said I’d bring you.”

“This could’ve been your chance to invite her to the movies!”

“And make her think I’m a cheater?” He shakes his head twice. “Besides, this is what we’re fake dating for. You and I can still go as fake-boyfriend and fake-girlfriend, if you don’t mind.”

Of course you don’t mind.

The movie is okay. It’s not really your style, nor is it Heeseung’s, if his distasteful grimace as he’s walking out of the cinema says anything.

“You didn’t like it,” you tease with fake concern.

He looks like a deer caught in headlights. “No,” he defends. He even raises his hands to wave them around as he searches the air for an explanation. “It was—You know—When they—Right?”

You laugh and place your hand on his shoulder. “I’m kidding. I didn’t really like it either.”

Heeseung places his own hand on top of yours and you feel your heart stutter. In a panicked moment, you try to rip your hand away, but it gets caught in his shirt, so you have to awkwardly pull it out from underneath.

Yunjin asks you about the movie itself, and you can’t seem to remember much about it besides Heeseung’s face at the end of it.

One of your favourite—fake—dates with Heeseung is when he takes you rollerblading. (You never ask how this is related to the girl he’s trying to impress. What? You’ve always wanted to go rollerblading.)

You both invite your friend groups and get to see them bond, which is both weird and endearing.

Yunjin holding onto Sunghoon and Ryujin’s hands for dear life as they’re the only two that are decent at roller skating and she’s on the verge of face planting whenever she steps on the rink on her own.

On the other hand, Yizhuo and Jay are equally bad. Yizhuo has horrible coordination and Jay… just can’t move. He can’t even take a step forward, just waves his arms around as if he’s swimming and it’ll somehow propel him. So, Yizhuo just keeps magnetically crashing into him, causing them both to fall down and need to recalibrate themselves from the boards.

Heeseung is a champion at it, as anyone would’ve expected. Though, he falls back to follow your pace, which is slow, but not agonizingly so, or so you hope.

You haven’t had the chance to go rollerblading in a while, and you end up tripping up over your own feet. Luckily, Heeseung is still there by your side to hold you so you don’t fall.

“Thanks,” you say to him, harshly gripping onto his arm to make sure you don’t.

At the end of the night, when your friends have already called it in, catching an uber or taking their own cars back, you and Heeseung stay a little while longer.

You’re sitting by the bleachers on the outside of the rink, Heeseung still freely skating on his own. He’s skating much faster, now, you notice. And he’s doing it with a big smile on his face which you can’t help but mirror when you’re watching him.

Later on, you notice he wears the same, but more subtle smile when he’s with you in the car, laughing and chatting while music blares from the speakers and the windows are rolled all the way down.

After a few weeks of date after date, midterms come up.

You and Heeseung made an agreement not to go out during this time. It gives the both of you time to recharge and focus on studying. It’d be useless to go out anyway, since his girl would probably be doing the same, you think but avoid saying.

When you make the modifications to your arrangement, you assume this means less frequent texting or calls, but those stay the same. Heeseung texts you good morning and is the last to say good night before you fall asleep, just as he’s been doing the past few weeks. You come to think that you’ve become really good friends over this time together.

You also assumed this would give you a break from acting like a couple, but Heeseung once again has other plans.

One afternoon when you don’t have classes, someone knocks at your door.

Normally, if someone’s at the door without texting you beforehand, it means it’s just another one of those door-to-door students campaigning for whatever new project they’ve come up with. Or, occasionally, it’s your next-door neighbour who’s going to warn you about being loud while working on their next project, whatever it is they’re doing.

This time, however, you’re met with a bouquet of flowers and an otherwise empty hallway. The bouquet comes with a note, that reads:

Good luck on your midterms! My two-lips will be ready to reward you once they’re over… (Sorry, Sunghoon told me to write a pun.) (Fuck why’d I write it in pen? There aren’t even tulips in this bouquet???) (This is from Heeseung BTW)

You laugh at the extra scribbles and smudged half-written words on the rest of the paper.

And it’s like magic, the way his words encourage you to keep studying, keep working harder. You pass your midterms with flying colours.

Heeseung invites you to the café on campus to celebrate, and said you needed to discuss something. When you arrive, your chocolate mocha is already sitting in front of him, on the opposite side of the booth.

He smiles when he sees you come up. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you say back. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“Well, first—” He raises his cup. “To passing midterms!”

You clink yours to his, smiling. “To passing midterms!” You both take a sip of your drinks before setting them down and looking at each other intently.

“So,” he says firmly. “I still haven’t given you your end of the deal.”

That’s right. You agreed on this whole shenanigan as long as he gives you an in on the Park family business. If you’re truly willing to become a lawyer, getting Jay to give you a good word to his father would mean a lot of doors opening, some that you’d never open otherwise.

It’s funny that something so big and important to you slipped your mind over these past few weeks.

Then you remember how you’ve discussed this would be happening. “There’s a party?”

Heeseung nods into his drink, getting a bit of foam on his upper lip. You almost lean over the table to wipe it off yourself, but instead you hand him a napkin, avoiding his eyes as you laugh nervously. “Thank you,” he whispers. Once the napkin’s down, he returns to business. “Tomorrow night at Jay’s actually. His dad won’t be there, unfortunately for you and fortunately for, like, everyone else attending.”

You nod. “So, this’ll be our first big event as a, albeit fake, couple?” Nerves begin to feed in your stomach and suddenly you’re not so thirsty. Your hands naturally start fidgeting with your cup.

The last time you went to one of the campus parties was the first week in the new year, last semester. You remember it all too well, meaning not at all. You’ve never been the best at calculating your tolerance, but that time you really went overboard.

For one, it’s embarrassing, but you also don’t want to do anything with Heeseung.

“Yeah,” Heeseung agrees nonchalantly, but he leans lower in concern, looking to meet your eyes. “But it’ll be okay, just like any of our other dates. Fake dates. Just pretend that you’re the infamous Kang Hana.” Then he adds: “But don’t be late this time.”

There he goes, making you laugh so easily.

Over the next few minutes, you agree that Heeseung will pick you up and drive the both of you to Jay’s not too early, but not too late. Jay isn’t big on wanting his friends to help him set-up, so he’s fine with whenever they decide to show up.

And when you do, you’re struck by awe, your mouth hanging agape at the… everything.

You’ve known Jay was rich, but you never considered he’d be this rich.

The black front gates leading up to a long driveway. The pillared entrance archway. The enormous garden wrapping around the household. The fountain. The white walls which are interrupted by full length windows looking into the modernly decorated mansion.

Jay stands by the door holding a blunt. Wispy smoke draws circles in the air as he exhales. “Look who it is,” he says with open arms, tossing the rest of his joint to the ground.

The boys dab each other up and Jay nods his head at you as a greeting. A chill passes through your body. You hug your body tighter underneath your jacket.

Heeseung places his hand comfortingly on your waist, pulling you closer to him so he can whisper in your ear. “If you want to leave, just say the word.” And when you shake your head, he leans in again. “Are you ready, Kang Hana?”

You decide that you are.

The party is nothing remarkable.

As promised, Heeseung makes sure to give you a chance to talk with Jay and perhaps get an ‘in’ on his father’s company. It seems to go well enough, although Jay mostly just agrees with what you’re saying, trying to move on from the topic of his dad and law.

But other than that, it’s just like any of the other parties that you’ve been to with your friends.

Music. People making out in every corner. Loud music. Couples dragging each other upstairs not-so-secretly. Decent food, despite Heeseung telling you about Jay’s personal chefs being top tier. And did you mention agonizingly loud music?

You still manage to have some fun with your fake-date, though.

The one thing that really stands out is the fact that most girls are keeping their respectful distance from Heeseung.

Usually, he would be surrounded by a dozen, at least. A couple hanging off his arms, some standing behind him, others even kneeling in front of him. They create an entourage around him like he’s some king they worship, and yet today you don’t even see a speck of that lifestyle.

It dawns on you that word really did get around about you and Heeseung.

You even lean in to tell him this much. “Your girl definitely knows,” you tell him. “Is she here?”

Heeseung looks around almost half-interestedly in the others, turning back to you with a smile. “No, I don’t think so,” he says, but he doesn’t sound too bummed out. Maybe it’s the drinks. “Do you want another drink?”

Only later on do you realize you really haven’t learned your lesson on your tolerance.

After your probably fifty-something-eth song on the dance floor, Heeseung calls it quits, having drank just as much, but clearly being able to hold himself together better.

He bids goodbye to his friends, letting you wave at them in your drunken state and gets you in the car to drive you back.

You stumble into Heeseung’s arms as you make your way out of the elevator on your floor. “Oops,” you laugh.

He makes a nervous sound before adjusting his arms to hold you properly with his hand holding onto your waist. “We’re almost there, Y/N,” he whispers, gently tugging you forward on your wobbling legs.

However, he freezes in his tracks when he’s met with your friends waiting by your door.

“Oh,” Yunjin says. “We thought—”

“God, we thought she died or something, she wasn’t answering our texts,” Yizhuo interrupts. “Are you guys gonna…”

“No, no,” Heeseung answers quickly, waving his free hand. “I was just making sure she made it safely back to her dorm.”

You cheer out of the blue, just glad to be there.

Heeseung reaches into your jacket pocket for your keys, the jingling sound making you laugh some more. He tosses the keys to Ryujin. “Here,” he says. “I’ll just bring her to bed—Uh! Not like that, I meant, like, make sure she sleeps.”

Yunjin shakes her head reassuringly. “Here, let me take her. We’ll take care of her, if you don’t mind.”

He doesn’t respond for a second, turning to look at you. The drunk-flush on your cheeks makes your eyes pop, he notices. Unknowingly, a soft smile creeps up on his lips. “Sure, sure,” he eventually says.

When he’s out of sight down the hall, the girls tug you into the room. They bring you to bed, helping you kick off your shoes and take off your jacket, but not bothering changing your clothes—who knows what kind of a struggle that would be.

The process proceeds in a comfortable silence, but not for you. You’re itching to speak, say anything. Something about the drinks in your system makes you feel chatty, so you say the first thing on your mind. “Heeseung’s so pretty.”

“I hope you think so,” Ryujin jokes. “He’s your boyfriend.”

You laugh, turning over to face away from the girls. “No he’s not.”

“Yes, he is,” Yunjin reassures, trying her best to get the blanket over your body to properly tuck you in, but you keep rolling away from her touch.

Watching you shake your head back and forth, Yizhuo curiously pushes. “What do you mean he’s not your boyfriend?”

“It’s just, like, a scheme,” you whisper the last word mischievously, wearing a cunning smile and waving your hands mysteriously. Laughing to yourself, it takes you a moment to notice your friends’ confused expressions when you look over at them again. “What?” You look up at them with a dazed smile.

“So… You and Heeseung,” Yunjin starts with furrowed brows, trying to assess the situation. “You’re not even dating?”

“Nope!” you say with a laugh, enunciating the ‘p’ with a pop of your lips.

From behind you, Yizhuo lets out a sigh of relief.

This time, Yunjin frowns at her. “What’s that about?”

“Sorry, sorry,” she says hurriedly. “It’s just that if Y/N and Heeseung were actually dating, the whole reveal would’ve been really awkward.”

“What reveal,” you ask.

She pulls her lips in, suppressing a laugh, before waving her hands and starting to confess. “So, remember how I said I slept with Heeseung at a party last semester?” Memories of her flaunting her newfound womanhood and maturity swarm your mind. You nod, yeah, I remember. “Well—” She tilts her head  guiltily. “I lied.”

You blink slowly at her. Once, and twice, before shaking your head out of pure confusion. “Wait, what? Why would you lie about that?”

Yizhuo looks over at Ryujin and Yunjin as if they’ll help her. From the less than expressive faces, you can tell they already knew. She scratches the base of her neck awkwardly. “I don’t know, I guess for status, or whatever.”

This sobers you up instantly. “Status? Like sleeping with Heeseung’s some kind of badge you get to wear around?”

She laughs nervously. “Well, no. But like, I don’t know, Y/N, I was just fucking around. I told you guys that when I was, like, really high.”

“Doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re treating him like some kind of object?” You’re always one to try to see the best in a person, in a situation, but you really can’t find it in yourself to defend Yizhuo right now. “He’s not just some fuckboy, Ning, he’s sweet, and kind, and cares about the little things, and—”

“So, you do like him?”

You sputter confusedly. “What are you even talking about?”

She stares at you dumbfoundedly. “You like him. You’re, you’re defending him,” she explains matter of factly. “Do you know how many girls he’s hurt ‘cause of his little hobby of hooking up and leaving them in the dust?”

“That has nothing to do with what we’re talking about. Admit it, Ning, you fucked up.”

She raises her arms defensively. “Fine! Maybe I did! But so did he. Multiple times with so many people. It’s weird that you’re on his side with this.” Sighing, she rolls her eyes. “Fine, I’m sorry for what I lied about when I wasn’t right in the fucking head, if that’s what you want to hear.”

You truly don’t know what’s gotten into her, but you also can’t be asked to bother caring. “Real mature,” you deadpan, realizing that that in itself is immature, too. “Get out of my room.”

She doesn’t even say anything to you. Just rolls her eyes again, mutters under her breath and tells the other girls they can come over to her place if they want. Yizhuo leaves with her jacket over her shoulder, not looking back.

“Go after her, it’s fine,” you tell Ryujin and Yunjin.

“Y/N—”

“Just go.”

They file out of the room in a hurry, and only when the door shuts do you let your tears of frustration fall. You slide down to the floor and cry into the palms of your hands with your knees up to your chest.

You’ve never had a fight like this with your friends. Sure, you’ve argued every now and then about stupid things, but something that left your chest heaving? All of this over a boy?

Your hands shake as you reach for your phone, your finger gliding past the group chat and your private messages with the girls—tempted to call them again, but you refuse—rushed to find the contact you've gotten so familiar with.

The line rings a few times, before you hear the click!.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” His voice is laced in concern, which warms your heart. And when you tell him you want to see him, he doesn't ask questions and simply tells you: “I’m on my way.”

Heeseung gets to your dorm surprisingly fast.

Then he reveals that he never left the parking lot, not specifying why, and you’re blushing all over. You avoid eye contact, but he reads it as you avoiding the topic.

He tells you as much that you don’t need to go into detail if you don't want to, simply promising to be here. “It’s been a long night, you should rest.”

You lay down in bed, lifting the covers as an invitation.

He lays down next to you. “Is this okay?” And all you can do is nod.

Your curtains are ajar, you notice, watching the way the moonlight traces Heeseung’s features. His eyes shine in the dark, but yours drift down to his glistening lips.

He lightly bites his lower lip as he holds a strong gaze on your face, studying.

Just when you think he’s about to lean in and close his eyes, Heeseung surprises you with a whisper. “I think we should go to sleep.”

Disappointment runs through your body, but you agree nonetheless.

Your dreams are plagued by the shadow of a touch and big brown eyes.

The following morning, the first thing you think is, “I slept next to Hee—Ow, my head hurts really bad?!”

You groan as you push the blankets on the side, when you notice the other half of the bed is empty. The sight of it makes you frown, but then you hear rustling the bathroom and you let out a sigh of relief.

“You’re up?” Heeseung peers his head around the corner of the bathroom. His hair drips onto the flooring and evaporated hot water trails behind him. “I hope you don't mind. I took a shower.”

Not finding the words, you wave it off. Shaking your head proves to be a bad idea because you’re left clenching in your fists from the pain.

Heeseung frowns. “Headache?” When you nod, he points to your side table. “I left a glass of water—I hope you don't mind I took it from your filter—and an ibuprofen—which I took from your cabinet, I really hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s okay, Heeseung,” you tell him quietly, wearing a pained, but genuine smile. “I really appreciate it, thank you.”

He smiles shyly before returning to the bathroom. And then it dawns on you that he might not have been wearing clothes during your exchange. Your face flushes, again.

When he leaves the bathroom, it’s your turn to freshen up. You try not to think about it too much.

“What should we have for breakfast?” he asks casually, sitting by your desk and is still working hard at drying his hair.

Your eyes are stuck on Heeseung’s movements. The way he fiddles with the towel to dry his hair, his face scrunching as he swipes rapidly. You smile in silent laughter at his cute expression, but you don't say anything about it.

“I’m really craving a croissant.”

That’s how you find yourself, hands inching away from Heeseung’s as you walk, making your way down to the café.

He tells you to find your regular table, assuring you that he’ll order. There’s no point in protesting, plus your headache still hasn't completely dissipated, so you willingly agree.

It only takes a few minutes for him to come back with a caffe latte and a dark chocolate mocha as per usual, as well as two croissants in paper bags.

“How’d you know I wanted a dark chocolate croissant,” you ask, peering into its bag. It’s glorious, you note, taking it out, careful not to spill the freshly drizzled still-hot chocolate.

Heeseung shrugs. “You’re always ordering the dark chocolate mocha, so I figured you'd like it on your croissant, too. It’s good right?”

You nod and hum into your food as a response, too enthralled by the taste and Heeseung’s attention to detail.

Your outing together goes well, as they always have.

He doesn't bring up your tear-stained cheeks from last night or the sudden call, to which you’re glad. The conversation is light, but natural. Every now and then, he makes you laugh and forget all about last night's events—almost all of them. Lingering at the back of your mind is the moonlight across his face, his soft lips and the feeling that you imagined when looking at them; the feeling of them pressing against your own.

Heeseung insists on walking you back to your dorm, again. You’ve learned by now that it's useless to argue with him, as stubborn as he is. “It’s on my way,” he lies. “Really, it's for me, mostly.”

That second statement is less of a lie, you can tell.

“After you,” he says, gesturing toward the elevator.

You lean against the elevator wall, closing your eyes. “I’m so tired,” you say with a muffled voice.

After pressing the button to your dorm with no hesitation, Heeseung’s eyes darken with a serious air. “Are you sure you're okay?” He’s not really asking about right now, more so about everything that happened last night. Everything he doesn't know about.

You’re afraid of admitting to him that you drunkenly spilled the truth to all of your friends, and caused a fight because of it. Not to mention he was the center of it.

Internally, you decide not to tell him about Yizhuo’s damage. That’s something between her and him, and you're not going to push it onto either of them.

“You can trust me—” Then, he reassures. “Only if you're comfortable.”

You are. So, you start to put together how you’ll tell him in your head, but your thoughts are interrupted by a loud—

THUD!

“What was—”

THUD! THUD!

And then, you’re falling.

Shit. We’re           falling.

Your brain stops working, completely freezing in your spot, the noise of the elevator screeching against its reins echoing in your head. Your heart pounds against your chest.

“On the ground!" a distant voice yells. Heeseung.

Right. That’s smart.

You follow his movements and lie down next to him, spread eagle. Your arms are practically on top of each other.

Heeseung grips onto your shoulder, shaking it. “We’ll be okay,” he says, though you're not sure if it's to you or himself. His eyes stay open widely, bloodshot. 

Suddenly, the elevator stops in its movements. The unexpected stop makes your chest bounce, but altogether, you're okay. You’re okay. “Is anyone in there?” The voice is muffled from behind the closed doors, but you think you recognize it as one of the janitors from the building.

Hurriedly, Heeseung rushes to the door. “Yes, yes, we’re in here!”

“Stay there—Er, I mean, stay still—Or, just don't worry we’ll get you out of there. Soon.” The ending of his sentence doesn't bring much reassurance, but from your spot still on the floor, you force yourself to believe his words.

Heeseung doesn't seem convinced either, but he lets out a sigh and extends his hand to help you up. You take his offer and try your best to ignore the fire his touch alights in your stomach. “I guess we have some time.”

“I guess we do,” you say with an awkward laugh.

He doesn't say anything in response, giving you the chance to lead the conversation. If you wanted to completely ignore the subject at hand, you don't think he'd mind. This gives you the confidence to do the complete opposite.

You take a deep breath before sputtering, “I told my friends about our deal. Drunkenly, so like totally an accident, but I did and now they know and—”

“Oh,” is all that comes out of his mouth at first. You worriedly lift your eyes to meet his, though now they're glued to the ceiling, with his back leaning against the wall. “That's—That’s okay. What harm could they cause? Unless you're telling me they're planning on going around campus exposing us… But that's not your fault.”

This time, you say “Oh,” standing in silence and staring at Heeseung’s favourite spot on the ceiling, too. The panel twitches from above, and you can imagine the elevator crashing has something to do with it. “I also got into a huge fight with them, or maybe not all of them, but it was, it was bad. We've never fought like that.”

“What was the fight about?”

You, you want to say. How Yizhuo did something stupid and it somehow turned into being about your complicated feelings for him. But you can’t tell him all of it, that’d be too much for such a tight space.

Shrugging while trying to look unconcerned, you decide to confess a half-truth. For some reason, you can’t get yourself to lie to him. “They think our plan is a bad idea because you’d be supposedly ‘using me,’ as if I like you, or something…”

He’s silent, at first. Heeseung considers what you’ve said, neither comforting nor arguing against you for it.

“Do you?”

You turn to him. “Do I what?”

“Like me,” he answers. “Do you like me?”

“I…” you start lamely. Your eyes avoid his, but they always seem to find their way back to his gaze, your face flushing underneath it. “I can’t answer that.”

And neither does he.

Instead, he turns so his body is completely facing yours, coming much closer than he was before. You tilt your head toward his where your breaths fan against each other. Your eyes make the mistake of drifting down to his lips again, and you instantly lose all composure.

You lean in first, but he’s quick to follow your lead, placing his hands onto your waist, while yours find their way to the base of his neck.

The kiss is delicate, but sparks fly all around. Your stomach does a flip when you feel his tongue tracing your bottom lip, but you don’t deny him access for long. 

Heeseung’s hands trail down your torso to your hips, where they inch backward to pull you closer into him. You follow his movements until he’s pushed against the wall with you tightly pressed against him. He flexes his arms around your body and flips you so your back is against the wall instead, with him hovering above you.

His knee is drawn between your legs pressing against your core, eliciting a moan, but it doesn’t go further than that. Soon enough, your movements are slowing down, though your heart is still racing in your chest.

When you separate, your mouth hangs open. “Heeseung…” you whisper, but before you can say anything more, the doors slide open.

“Are you okay?” The janitor that you predicted would be there is standing by the buttons, holding a handy-man suitcase for the electrician kneeling in front of the panel. “Anyone get hurt?”

You brush off any dust from your back, adjusting your shirt and hair to be more presentable. Also to erase the memory of whatever just happened. Did we really…? “No. No, we’re okay. Thank you.”

“Yes, we’re… okay,” Heeseung adds quietly.

You don’t even wait for Heeseung, rushing toward the staircase on the other side to get to your floor. For a moment, you hear his footsteps behind you, but once you’re up halfway, you realize he’s given up and you let out a sigh of relief.

You don’t really want to face him now, not after what just happened.

Luckily for you, you don’t need to face him for a long time afterward.

You stare at his latest text (”assignments are pretty crazy atm let’s reschedule our next fake dates”), trying not to focus on your heart tightening at his word choice, and quickly reply:

ME sounds good! see u :) 10:11

The week goes by slowly and quietly.

With Heeseung mostly M.I.A besides the occasional short-worded answers to your texts and you actively avoiding running into your friends, you’ve had a lot more time for yourself and you notice how much you hate it.

So, you pluck up the courage to text the ghosted group chat, asking the girls to meet together at the café. You all need to talk, whether any of you like it or not.

Though, the reason you even have the motivation to do this at all is because you know the girls have been making an effort to talk. Although not in the group chat, your messages have been spammed daily with apologies and questions about your daily life, to keep it casual. You also received a note during the class you share with Ryujin which read simply: “Love ya xx”

You smiled at it before crumpling it and stuffing it into your bag—What? You were trying to make a statement.

Now there’s no need for theatrical note crumpling, with the three girls surrounding you at your regular booth. Yours and Heeseung’s, you mean. It’s the comfiest there, you convince yourself when making the natural choice to sit there.

The space is filled with awkward silence as you sip on your mocha, feeling even more stuffy when the girls don’t make a move to drink their own orders. You’ve had enough of this. “Guys… Let’s talk, or something. We’re still friends.”

“I’m sorry,” Yizhuo says out of the blue. “Seriously. That was really messed up and I shouldn’t have said it. And I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, you had every right to be mad.”

You smile softly. “Thank you,” is all you say, taking her hands in yours and squeezing them. You lean your head against her shoulder and the two of you stay like that for a while.

“You really like Heeseung, don’t you?”

Your head shoots up at Yunjin’s sudden question. You stumble over your words, trying to suppress the blush from spreading up to the tips of your ears, but you feel the heat anyway. “No, no, I—I don’t. No.” You shake your head for emphasis, but Yizhuo looks at you with telling eyes.

“Sure, I believe you,” she says, completely meaning the opposite.

“I just—” you start, not really knowing how you feel. “Our whole set-up, it’s—it’s fake. He doesn’t feel the same. I don't even know why he kissed me—”

“He kissed you?!”

Before you have the chance to respond, your phone buzzes, drawing your attention thankfully away from your accidental reveal. It’s Heeseung. Great.

희승♡ there’s a party at sunghoon's, you wanna come? 14:23

ME when is it? 14:23 

희승♡ tonight @ 10 14:23

You look back up at the girls to find them staring at you with knowing smiles. It’s not hard for them to notice who you’re texting, or the way your eyes glint at the messenger.

“So,” you tell them. Yizhuo and Ryujin lean in, while Yunjin raises a curious brow. “Who wants to go to a party?”

Sunghoon’s house isn’t as grand, but it’s just as prepared for a party as Jay’s. Music blares into the driveway as you, Heeseung and the girls make your way to the door. Nobody is standing by it with a blunt, but the wide-open entrance is welcome enough.

“You guys go in,” you tell the girls, making a sign for them to not protest. They don’t, understanding your unspoken signal and heading inside. You turn back to Heeseung who looks more nervous than he’s known to be nonchalant. “Hey…”

“Hey,” he says back.

“It’s been a while.”

He hums, looking off to the cars spilling out into the street, nodding at nothing. “I’m sorry, I was, uh, busy,” he clarifies.

A chill passes between you, but you’re not so sure if it’s the wind or the awkward air. Either way, you’re happy to have brought a jacket to bury your hands in.

“You made up with your friends,” Heeseung notes suddenly.

“Yeah, we talked earlier.” He’s not going to bring up the kiss, you conclude, and neither are you. Maybe you can go on and forget it happened altogether. “We sorted it all out.”

Heeseung gives you a genuine, albeit small, smile. “That’s good.”

Scenes from the elevator rush through your mind. His hands around your waist, his lips against yours. The way it all felt, how consumed you were of him. How good it was. You blink it away and gesture to the door. “Should we…”

“Let’s go,” he says, then adds, “Kang Hana.”

You laugh. Okay, you think, we’re okay.

And with Heeseung by your side, the night is one to remember.

With the music ringing loudly throughout the house, after a few light drinks, you and Heeseung spend your time dancing with your hands on each other, rhythmically guiding each other to the melody. You almost forget there are other people in the room at all, closing your eyes and only thinking of the man holding you in his arms.

When the fourth or fifth song ends, you separate, only for him to run his hand down your arm to grab your hand on his own. He leads you to one of the rec rooms.

“There she is!” Yunjin’s drunken voice makes you giggle, the buzz getting to you, too.

“Hi, hi,” you tell her and the others.

Yizhuo is busy steadying her aim, holding onto a ping pong ball just past her nose with one closed eye, to greet you, but Ryujin waves sleepily from her place. She’s leaning against someone you recognize from one of her study groups. They nod to you, too.

“Hey,” Heeseung whispers, leaning into your ear.

You giggle at the feeling of his words against your skin. “Hey, back.”

“I’m gonna go get another drink, you want one?”

You nod eagerly, letting your fingers fiddle with his even as he begins to walk away. When he’s gone, your hands linger in the air for a moment more, missing the warmth of his hold.

Suddenly, the warmth comes back, though it’s different.

Turning around, you’re faced with Jay. “Can we talk?” he asks.

Wordlessly, you nod and let him guide you through the crowd of people to a more secluded area.

“What’s up?” You try to steady your voice, but it comes out higher pitched and perky out of instinct, still feeling the adrenaline of the buzz.

“Heeseung told me you wanted an ‘in’ at my dad’s firm?”

Your eyes light up. “Yes, yes I do!”

He chuckles at your excitement. “Well… I can give you his details so you can get into contact with him. I’m also technically not supposed to tell you this, but—” You lean in expectantly. “—they're picking out students for a co-op over the summer. Maybe I could put in a good word, slide your application at the top of the pile…”

“You can do that? Seriously!?”

“I can’t guarantee it’ll be with my father himself.” He raises his arms in defense. “But I can definitely get you some connections on the inside.”

Your hands come up to your mouth, holding it from going agape in honour. “Thank you, oh my God, thank you,” you repeat for good measure. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The air shifts as he moves closer to you. Jay’s hand lands on the wall not far off from your head. He leans in, his breath tickling your skin, making your cheeks flush. “Maybe you could thank me by letting me take you out?”

For a moment, you’re frozen in your spot. How are you meant to react? Heeseung’s best friend hitting on you? What would happen if he saw? Wait, does it even matter? You’re not actually dating. Right?

But the elevator…

“Hey,” a familiar voice sounds from behind you. Heeseung steps forward, the lights of the party illuminating his features dimly. His face wears an uncharacteristic anger in his furrowed brows and hardened jaw. “Back off.”

Jay simply laughs, retracting his hand. “Why do you care,” he taunts.

You try to keep your composure. Jay hasn't been the nicest out of the group, but you never expected him to sound so mean.

You watch as Heeseung refuses to reply, not wanting to push Jay even more as he’s clearly too buzzed to have a coherent conversation. He tries to grab onto his arms and lead him away, but Jay’s quick to push them off.

“You don’t even like the girl,” Jay slurs.

Heeseung gets closer to him, grabbing his arm and talking into his face to make sure he listens. “You’re drunk, Jay, back off.”

Jay isn’t having it. He tosses his head back in a laugh. “Don’t tell me you actually fell for her?” he asks in a venomous tone. Your stomach churns as you watch their interaction. A smirk grows across his lips. “You owe me.”

“Fuck off.”

“What?” You weren’t going to step in, already feeling shaken up enough from tonight’s events. But Jay’s words ring in your mind. “What does he mean you owe him? What, what is he saying?”

Heeseung’s eyes lock with yours, pity and sadness ghosting his expression. “Y/N, I can explain—”

“We made a bet,” Jay cuts in. He shrugs Heeseung’s hands off of his shoulders. “He had to get any girl on campus to fall for him, leave her in the dust and watch her crawl back.” He turns to Heeseung with a mocking pout, his steps wobbling. He’s really drunk. “Doesn’t matter that she won’t come crawling back, ‘cause you’re too soft to leave her.”

“What’s your problem,” Heeseung shuts. “Are you jealous? That’s fucking low, even for you.”

You can’t even see him properly, your vision blurred in tears. Your breath catches in your throat as you want to say something to interrupt, come between. But you can’t even stand being by Heeseung right now. “A bet? This was all a bet?”

He turns to you quickly. “Y/N, please, let me explain.”

You shake your head, tears running down your cheek, surely ruining your mascara. “I have to go.”

Maybe it would make sense if you let him explain. Maybe he could somehow salvage the situation, but you can’t hear it. Not right now. Not after everything you’ve felt for him, everything you still feel for him despite the ache in your chest.

From behind you, Heeseung calls your name. “Wait, please!” You ignore him and run out of the house.

Your body shakes. “Should’ve brought a sweater..” you mumble bitterly. Then you remember that you did, but you left it inside. You also realize that you left all of your friends behind without a word. “And my phone,” you groan. You could easily turn back around and get them, but you’re already halfway down the road, you can even see your building in the distance.

It’s too humiliating to go back now, anyway.

How could I be so stupid? you think to yourself. Lee Heeseung, going out with you out of his own free will? Stupid. Impossible. Just a dumb fantasy. 

It starts to rain. You curse at the sky.

When you finally make it to your dorm, stumbling up the steps because of course the elevator still hasn’t been fixed, you go straight to bed without washing up. You’re too tired for this. And, you realize, you drank too much to care.

You try to fall asleep. You really do.

But your head keeps replaying Jay and Heeseung’s conversation. The way Heeseung lips parted when Jay revealed it all. The way he looked at you, begging for you to listen to him. It’s all stuck in your head and in fear of it following you into your dreams, your body refuses to fall asleep to ignore everything.

Just as you’re about to take your pillow and scream into it, you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone.

희승♡ i’m right outside your door 02:23

희승♡ you have every right to slam the door in my face 02:23

희승♡ or not open it at all 02:24

Staring at the messages, you bit your lip in consideration of your options.

You could, A. Not get up. Keep the door closed and never speak to Lee Heeseung ever again. Or, B. Get up, open the door and see what he has to say to explain himself. You’re liking the former, but your feet move on their own toward the entrance.

You lift yourself up to peer through the peephole. Heeseung is standing there, fidgeting anxiously in his stance. He looks from right to left a couple times, down to his phone, back up, and closes his eyes. After a deep breath, you watch him begin to walk backward, slowly.

Something snaps in you. You open the door.

His eyes widen at the sight of you. You’re probably still a mess, eyes red from crying paired with tear-stained cheeks and running mascara. You don’t even want to begin to picture the state of your hair. Yet, he looks at you in awe. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” you whisper back.

Wordlessly, you step back to motion for him to come in.

Heeseung follows you onto the couch, where you sit down to look past the TV in front of you and stare at a blank space on the wall. You feel his eyes on you.

“I’m sorry,” he then says.

You don’t reply.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he starts again. “But can I tell you everything from the start? I need you to know what really happened. Then, you can go on to hate me.”

I don’t hate you, you want to say. You don’t speak, nodding for him to go on.

Ironically, considering he was drunk out of his mind, Heeseung remembers the moment he got your call.

He and the boys were hanging at Sunghoon’s, originally just planning on playing video games and getting high, but then Sunghoon mentioned his dad’s stash. “Whiskey and lemonade, anyone? Rum and coke? Dirty Shirley? If you’re feeling creative,”

Who was Heeseung to deny?

And so, soon enough, they were drunk enough to forget the weight on their shoulders and act more carefreely. This is when Jay decided to come up with a brilliant idea.

“So we all know Heeseung’s a whore—”

“Hey,” he interrupted. “I haven’t gotten some in, like, four months.”

Jay laughed, taking another swig of his drink. He grimaced as the liquid burned down his throat. “You’ve basically fucked half of the campus, but it’s always one night and that’s it.” Heeseung nodded, not sure where he was going with this. “Bet you can’t get someone to fall in love, or some shit.”

He couldn’t help but raise a brow challengingly. “What? You think someone wouldn’t fall for me if I gave them flowers and took them out?”

“Have you ever even actually dated?”

The answer was yes. Technically. If you count middle school relationships. Otherwise, fine, he’ll admit to himself that he hasn’t ever dated anyone seriously. That’s just ‘cause he hasn’t found anyone he’s really interested that he knows would be into him, too.

Of course, there was you. You were the first person he ever fell head over heels for. Heeseung didn’t even know he was capable of falling so hard, but he did.

Though you would never like him back. You’ve already confirmed it.

So, Heeseung clapped his hands determinedly. “You wanna bet on it?”

But before Jay could answer, his phone rang.

The contact felt familiar—Note Giver—but his mind couldn’t register. “Hello,” he said confusedly.

Some commotion on the other side took him by surprise.

“Um… Who is this?” Sunghoon looked at him curiously, wondering what could’ve interrupted their moment.

The girl, he presumed, on the other side hesitated for a moment. There was more noise before she said: “This is… Hana…”

“Hana?”

“Kang. Kang Hana,” the girl clarified. Y/N. He finally realized it was you. “We met at the, uh, party last Friday. At Jay’s.”

Heeseung considered your words, wondering where you were going with this. At the same time, he accidentally spilled his drink. “Shit,” he whispered away from his phone. Sunghoon tossed him a towel with a big smile on his face. When the mess was mostly cleaned, Heeseung brought the phone back to his ear, cleaning the rest of it with his other hand. “Kang Hana.”

“Yeah, we had a good time together, didn’t we?”

He paused. “I guess,” he said slowly. He wanted to have a little fun with this, listen to your voice a little longer. “Can you remind me?”

You began to tell the tale about your supposed encounter, spinning the story into something that genuinely impressed Heeseung. Every now and then, he hummed, trying to suppress a laugh at your creativity. He doesn’t even want to know why this was happening.

“I’m so sorry, I left you in the dirt and—” Your voice was cut off by a squeal, shocking him.

“Woah!” he yelped, pulling the phone away once again. Jay couldn’t hold his laugh at Heeseung’s reaction.

“Who is it,” he asked.

Heeseung didn’t miss a beat before responding without really thinking. “Y/N.”

He practically hears your heart drop. “You knew it was me?”

“Obviously,” he replied with a chuckle. “Took me a second, I’m a little tipsy, haha.” He didn’t want to throw you off by admitting he was more than buzzed, so he told a white lie. As long as he was coherent enough to have a conversation, he thought it was fine.

“Oh, am I interrupting?”

“You’re never a bother, babe.”

Why did I say that? Maybe he’s more drunk than he thought. It just slipped past his lips, he doesn’t know why. Were his fantasies meshing with reality that he couldn’t help himself? Heeseung tries not to watch Jay’s face morph into something mischievous.

“Huh,” you said, which made Heeseung cringe.

Jay mouthed something in his direction. He tried to read it, but it must've been something along the lines of “Her. She’s the girl.”

Heeseung knew what he meant and mentally hurled the empty chair to his right at him. Back to the phone conversation, he tried to change the subject. “Are you with the girls?”

You told him you were, and he took this as an opening.

As much as he wanted to keep talking with you, since it’s been so long, he needed to get away from this conversation to recover from the embarrassing slip-up. “I don’t want to keep you if you’re having fun. Text me later though, okay?” God, when does he stop talking?

You confusedly told him “Okay?” before you cut the call.

He was already typing a message to apologize to you for his behaviour, but Jay was already telling him to play along with it some more. The bet was on and he decided that you were going to be the girl.

Heeseung felt a knot form in his stomach.

“I should’ve just come clean when we met at the café, but I didn’t. I’m sorry.” He ends his retelling at that, you fill in the rest with your mind.

You’re not sure what to say. You have so many questions and comments spiralling in your mind, where do you even start? “There was never a girl?”

“No… Just you.”

Stuttering, you just have to ask. “Why me?”

“Jay told me to go for you, said it would be a challenge. I was stupid enough to go along with it. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, I wanted to tell you the truth, but I… I really like you, Y/N, I didn’t think you’d want to be with me if you knew the truth.”

“You called me babe.” Is all you say.

“What?”

“On call. The first time. You called me babe. I thought that was you playing your role.”

Heeseung lets out a shaky sigh that sounds more like a breathy laugh. “I was drunk,” he explains. “And I…” You look at him expectantly. “I’ve liked you since we met, and I guess it slipped up ‘cause I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

This shocks you. You blink up at him. “Since we met?”

“Well, pretty much.” He rubs the base of his neck awkwardly. “Obviously you’re really pretty, but it was more than that. You were always the first in class. You only answered the professor when no one else would, even though you definitely always knew the answer. You’re so well spoken, too.” You blush at his words. You never realized he had been so observant. You never thought anyone would notice so much about you.

However, you shake your head. “But you never said anything?” This truly astounds you. The everknown Lee Heeseung never made a move to even at least try to be with you. You can’t even know if you would’ve said no to him because well… he’s him. If you knew him the way you know him now, you know you would’ve said yes in a heartbeat.

“Remember what I told you about the girl I liked?” You nod. “You’re her.”

You furrow your brows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Last semester, I went to one of the campus parties and you were there. You were drunk out of your mind,” he laughs. Oh, God, he remembers, too? “At first I was just admiring this new side of you. So carefree and so unapologetically you.” His eyes glint at the memory. You can almost see it replaying in your head. Almost because you truly can’t remember much of that night. “And then you ran off to the bathroom at some point ‘cause you got sick. I followed you to make sure you were alright, but you pushed me away.

“You told me to fuck off ‘cause you didn’t want to sleep with me. You called me a player and said you didn’t want to get roped up in that, or something. I think you insulted me some more, but your words were kind of all mashed together.” You flush. “I left you alone, but made sure to get your friends to check on you. And, I don’t know, I kind of lost interest in hooking up with random people after that.”

Your eyebrows raise, impressed. “You quit cold turkey?” He nods. “For me?”

He nods again.

“Wow… You really like me?”

“Y/N, I think I’m in love with you.”

You find yourself teetering on the edge of disbelief and joy, uncertain about how to respond to this unexpected revelation. Heeseung looks at you with such tenderness that you’ve never had directed toward you, to which your heart flutters with warmth.

His eyes shift from adoration to concern as you sit there in shock for a moment. “I know you probably don’t like me back, but—” he starts, but you don’t let him finish.

Driven by a surge of emotions, you lean in, pressing your lips against his.

As you kiss him this time, there’s a greater sense of assurance. Your first kiss carried an air of uncertainty, with both of you unsure about each other’s feelings. The way you felt when pulling away left your stomach in knots, thoughts of insecurities and worries running through your mind.

You let go of your hesitation, now, focusing solely on this moment. The way your lips connect to his, the way he smiles into the kiss and the way you pull away to look at him with telling eyes.

“I love you, Kang Hana,” Heeseung tells you.

You reply with a laughing smile. “I love you, too, Lee Heeseung.”

A ringing phone blares in your ear early in the morning. You groan, eyelids barely awake since even the sun hasn't come up yet. “Hello,” you mumble into the receiver. “Um… Who is this?”

You recognize the chuckle from the other side. Suddenly, you’re much more awake. “I’m sorry, Love, did I wake you?”

“No! No—” you scramble but are cut off by a yawn. Heeseung laughs softly again. “Yes, you did, but that's okay. Why're you calling so early? How are you even up?”

“I couldn't sleep.” Then, he adds more teasingly. “Not without you.”

You can practically hear the wink he sends.

“I wanted to watch the sunrise, and then I thought that maybe you’d want to watch it with me?” He says it like a question, as if he's not sure. You shake your head even though you know he can't see it. “Maybe I should've thought this through…”

A giggle escapes your lips without warning. “It’s fine, Heeseung. How about you come over and we’ll watch it by my window? Unless you have a spot?”

He hums assuredly. “No, no, I was just gonna watch it from mine, too. I’m actually, uh, already inside your building.”

He’s so ridiculous. You laugh to yourself before telling him to come up—You unlock the door, only for him to appear right on the other side as you do it.

“Hi,” you tell him with a bright smile despite your tired eyes.

“Hi,” he replies quietly.

You’re lucky your window is facing the east, with little to nothing blocking your view from the clear bluish-orange morning sky, aside from some trees, but they only add to the landscape. The sunrise is beautiful, but you conclude that Heeseung is much more beautiful, especially with the way his eyes reflect the sun rays that hit through your window.

For a moment, you shut your eyes to appreciate the heat of the rays. “Beautiful,” Heeseung murmurs.

And when you open your eyes, you realize he’s looking at you.

[kumasakka]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐖𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐘 ! ❞

⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. isagi yoichi x reader , bachira meguru x reader , itoshi rin x reader .

⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. the moment he realized that he has the biggest crush on you.

⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~2.2k words . 0.7-0.8k words each.

⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. drabble for each on. fluff. f!reader. spoiler - free ! safe for minors ! crappy writing. isagi, bachira and rin may seem ooc.

ISAGI YOICHI. when he misunderstood something on valentine's day—

　HE realizes that he has the biggest crush on you when you walked towards him on valentine's day with a beautiful decorated, red box in your hands. Actually it was like a normal day for him—considering that he didn't receive any chocolate.

Well it's not like he minded anyway. Again, valentine's day was always just like another day in school. Yeah but that was until he saw you at the end of the day in all your glory with chocolate in your hand, a bright smile on your lips.

The sun itself shone down on the school, capturing your beauty just right, reminding him of those typical romance movies you never stop talking about. Nonetheless, was that chocolate in your hand? Is that box... for him?

Did you actually like him? He thought the rumors were fake? You never gave any signs that you were crushing on him so he never gave those rumors much thought. And now it seems like he should've prepared for this day!

Nevermind, he can give you tenfold back on white day. The only thing he should do is remain calm and sort his messed up thoughts. At the end, he couldn't help but flush as you stood infront of him, your hand with the box stretched out for him.

"Ah, [n-name]..!" he stuttered.

"Here, 'chi." you paused for a moment, making his heart beat even faster, "a boy confessed to me and gave me chocolate. But I don't feel like eating them, so I'm giving it to you."

It came crashing down. The colors of his face drained. His soul almost flew out of his body. "You okay?" you questioned, a little concerned about the state your friend was in. "Hey, wanna go to the nurse office real quick?! Don't die, Yoichi!"

"I-It's alright... I'm alright..." he blurted out to less your worries, "sure... I'll take those chocolates..."

Even though he assured you he was fine while accepting the box, you were still concerned about his dire state. But you eventually figured out why he was so shocked after forcing him to spill out what his problem was.

"Pfft— You're so silly!" you laughed your ass off, slapping his back firmly which made him yelp out in pain. Not that it really hurt, he was just being dramatic. You think. "Quit being dramatic."

"Hey, you slapped my back! And it did hurt..."

You still think your slap wasn't that painful after he scooted further away from you. "Stop exaggerating." you deadpanned before standing up from the bench, surprising him slightly by the abrupt movement. "Wait here."

With that, you left. Wow, did you really take your leave after slapping his back? Was he actually exaggerating? His back still hurts though. "Did I really just mess up my chance?" he asked himself, his breath hitched, "is she mad?"

Okay, please tell Isagi Yoichi he did not lose his bestfriend since primary school over something that petty. Well, he did thought you had a crush on him. But he would've accepted! Wait, he would've dated you? His best friend? What.

"Calm down and stop overthinking. She will come back." he muttered under his breath, hiding his face in his hands as he bent forward to support his elbows on top of his knees. "after all, she demanded that I should wait. I'm a bit distressed, that's all."

Maybe he should ask you out instead of the other way around. Yeah, maybe he should shoot his shot. You wouldn't reject him, would you? "Maybe I am delusional." he huffed, the blush slowly crept up to his cheeks.

All of a sudden—he felt something cold against his neck that resulted in him flinching. It was too cold for his liking. "Ah, cold!" he immediately sprang up from the bench as a reflex and took a few steps away.

Only to see you behind the seat with a confused expression.

"[name], stop scaring me! This isn't the first time I told you to quit!"

"What were you mumbling to yourself?" you huffed before throwing him something to his direction.

Isagi didn't had time to react but was fast enough to catch the box you had thrown. "Is that chocolate?" he blinked for a moment, not being able to tear his eyes away from the velvet box. This little box was prettier than the other one.

"Yeah. Thought it might cheer you up." you opened the can of cold soda you brought with you. "It's valentine's day, so a little present from your dearest friend won't hurt."

Taking in the sight infront of him, he felt how his face slightly heated up. "Thanks." was this a confession? Was this the confession he needed to be called delusional now? The box was really pretty. Even though it's bought.

"Make sure to pay back tenfold on white day, yes?" you teased him.

"Of course." he answered.

You were surprised by his beaming smile, not expecting this kind of response. So you returned his smile.

After that day, he saw you in an entirely different light. And you did so too.

After all, you're the funniest and prettiest! You're also the one who talked with him without hesitation on your first day of school even though your friends warned you about his weird behaviour. But you shrugged your shoulders with a playful smile.

BACHIRA MEGURU. when he took in the sincerity in your eyes—

　BACHIRA liked you. Not the romantic like-like, rather the plantonic like-like as a friend. But he somehow liked you more than a friend, less than a lover. Something inbetween probably. Again, not that he cares though.

You've been pretty good friends since then, always sitting next to him during most of the classes. And he's also the first one who gets asked by you if you wanna team up for the next school project—warning, he never does one thing to.

The only thing he'd do while you're doing the project is yap, yap and yap. You're doing the whole work. But he does help you if you need opinion or anything else. "Can you hand me the glue?" or "Scissors." or "What do you think? Is the text too small?"

Fast forward—you've grown to be pretty good friends. Silly jokes and banters never came to an end, the laughs were light and pleasant to the ears, shared hugs were warm and cuddly. People assumed you were a couple to be honest.

"Why did the crab cross the road? It didn’t—it used the sidewalk." he mimicked the tongs of a crab, arousing a laugh out of you.

"You're so silly, Meguru!" you laughed.

The jokes would've reminded someone of a dad joke, but for you, it was a first-class joke from the best comedian. Your shoulders slightly shook before you tried to calm yourself down, your aura beamed brightly like his as you smiled.

"Never stop being funny."

"Yes, ma'am!" he grinned, folding his arms on the table, "I had a joke about paper today, but it was tearable!"

One thing Bachira loved was that you shared a humor, laughing at the dumbest jokes together was like a dream for him. "You're so cute!" you squealed, grabbing his surprise soft cheeks. "Your cheeks are the best, man! Ahh!"

Not to mention, whenever you came close, he would notice the twinkle in your eyes—a twinkle that allowed him to believe your unmatched kindness and sincerity were genuine. Genuine for him and him alone.

People do say, eyes are the window of the owner's heart and soul. And Bachira always decided which person had good or bad intentions through their eyes. They were either carrying hatred in them or sincerity like you.

To be frank, he can see a person's heart the clearest through their eyes. And sometimes, when you're talking about things you love, he can't help but stare into your eyes the entire time and admire how they began to shine.

Unfortunately, he's unable to listen what you were saying, making you repeat things very often. Just like right now. "—guru? Meguru, are you zoning out again?" you asked, a little concerned about his attention span.

"What did you say?" he chimed in with a innocent smile, looking like a baby chick that was chirping.

"Ah nevermind!" you huffed, crossing your arms.

It's then when he realized he was being oblivious to his feelings all the time. Did he ever notice how pretty you are up close? Is this what people call crush? If it is, Bachira thinks he fell real deep for you. Like he has he biggest crush on you.

His grin faded for a second staring at your eyes that were filled with worry. "You okay?" you asked, touching his shoulder gently. Wow, he just fell in love with your eyes—they were genuine. Of course. We're talking about you.

"[name]..." he paused to jump on top of you, latching himself onto you, "I love you so much!"

"H-Hey, we're faLING!" you lost your balance.

And yet, he didn't let go.

Rin is also the one who thinks, wow how did she do this? Like, bringing him to the cinema to watch some damn romance movie. He would've rather watched the new horror movie that's out, but you wouldn't quit whining about the new lovey-dovey movie.

ITOSHI RIN. when he caught himself imagining a future with you—

　RIN thinks you're delusional. You're always talking about your dream man and then giggle like a highschool girl, ignoring the fact that you currently are a highschool girl. You were a bit— scratch that, you were delusional with those standards.

Sitting next to next each other, his eyes bore itself into the big screen that displayed some tragic scene. What a typical story. What a tragic scene. He cannot sit there anymore, the seat felt itchy and his mind drifted away.

Not long until he'll fall asleep. He can't though, not after hearing a quiet sob from his right. His eyes wandered to the side, only for them to land on your face—covered with tears as you sobbed like always when something sad happend.

You looked like the actress on the movie who also was crying because their love was impossible, forbidden love. "Quit crying like a baby." he whispered to not disturb other people, handing over a handkerchief for you.

"Thanks..." you mumbled and wiped your tears away.

“Wait for me, my lady...”

Rin continued to watch how the knight was giving the lady a handkerchief, his personal one he spent hours one to craft and decorate. "Once we'll see each other again, you can give it back. But I prefer you'd keep it." the knight swept her hair behind her hair.

"Please come back quickly." she plead.

"I will. That's a promise."

Suddenly, he felt someone lightly shaking his shoulder. It was you, giving him back his handkerchief. "Keep it." he paused. Just like in the movie. Did he catch himself locked in because of that movie? "Err..." he trailed off, knitting his eyebrows in confusion.

"Here." seems like you didn't hear it. "Or should I wash it before returning it?"

Quietly, he took back his handkerchief while shaking his head. "It's fine..." he grumbled under his breath, gripping onto the piece of cloth. His cheeks heated up because of the embarrassment he just said. He was not the knight in the movie.

But he secretly wouldn't mind if you're the lady. He also wouldn't mind, seeing you in the crowd of people, cheering his name during a match. He wouldn't mind if you kissed him for every goal he scored. He wouldn't—you infected him.

Did... did Rin just imagined you as a couple? You must have infected him with those thoughts. It's your fault. But he was wondering what kind of wedding dress would suit you perfectly. He could already hear the bells ringing—shit.

He deadpanned before hiding the upper part of his face with his hand. What is he thinking about? He was already imagining you two during your wedding. You would've looked beautiful though—and he said you were delusional!

"Rin, can I get my drink?" your voice snapped him out of your mind, asking for his drink. Why the heck does he have your drink?

"Huh?" he furrowed his eyebrows, giving you a drink—not seeing there was acutally a second drink.

"It's the wrong one... Did you buy sprite?" you returned the drink. "Rin, you gave me your drink."

Shoot.

"Sorry." he apologized, giving you the other one. Shit. Did you share an indirect kiss? He was drinking out of that one earlier! His face heated up because of... embarrassment? He is being lukewarm as fuck.

"Hope you don't mind that I drank out of your cup..." you whispered.

"I don't." he answered without hesitation.

The only thing he minds is that he caught himself slacking. "I'm going to the bathroom." he excused himself, standing up and quickly made his way out of here as you watched him in concern. Since when was the cinema so hot?

No Rin. You just realized that you had the biggest crush on [name].

"Did I do something wrong?" you muttered before returning to the movie. "Nevermind, it's an Itoshi we're talking about. He can deal with it."

At the end of all Rin knew—your love wouldn't be impossible.

© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

a/n's — frame lock here I come !!!

[thanosscross]

HII I REALLY LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH, i hope your willing to write about pregnant reader x thanos yk, thanos didn't know she was pregnant before they break up and then they meet up again the games and he finds out player 222 and player 333 type stuff 😭

Of course! We love this!!

Good person - Choi Su- Bong x pregnant! reader

Summary: After leaving Thanos, you encounter him again in a serious death game, only this time the stakes are lot higher

Warnings: Not much, just your usual squid game gore

A/n: Sorry it's so short! I'm going to try and start adding some length to my stories again especially my Thanos stories so stay tuned for those longer stories, trust me they are coming, they're just takin a lil time

You had told yourself whenever you signed up, you'd be as careful as possible, and that it was all for your baby, after leaving their father and being disowned for choosing to be single mother, you were left with little to nothing, so of course you took the chance to get money.

As you woke up in the giant room you soon came to regret your decision, seeing your sperm donor just a few feet in front of you, focused on the screen reading off debts "Y/n L/n, 25 million won" The guard shouted, showing you getting smacked across the face, quickly holding an arm over your stomach afterwards. Almost like he knew, as soon as your name was called out, his head snapped to yours "Senorita! You're here!?" He shouted in shock "No Way!" He shouted as he walked closer, you attempted to curl your body up away from him, but due to the six month pregnancy belly, you could only bend your legs closer to you slightly.

"Please leave, Thanos" You grunted, trying your best to keep him at a distance, for all he knew you had taken a plan B after your last hook up and that was it. Instead he just kept approaching until he was standing in front of you "What're you doing here!?" He asked excited, you just shook your head "trying to get my family and I money after my sorry excuse of a boyfriend convinced me to buy stupid ass crypto?" You said like it was obvious, it wasn't like you were entirely lying, you just didn't specify what family.

Going into red light green light, you were cocky at first, knowing you could do this easy, until the shooting started, players falling left and right, while your baby dad just skipped and danced his way to you down the field "You never answered me, Senorita" He repeated, placing his hands on your hips, terrified of what he might do, especially after watching him shove other players to win "I-I'm pregnant" You blurted, you couldn't help it, between your fear of dying by Thanos or the game was too much, you just wanted to get out of this alive, you didn't think it'd be this serious, if you did, you never would've done this. "Haha" He laughed sarcastically before looking at your face as the doll called out red light, he was in front of you now, and you were visibly shaking, Thanos using his body to try and shield you from the sensors "for real, flower?" He asked, his tone a lot more deep and raspy, you could tell he sobered up quick upon the realization you weren't joking. "I-I forgot the pill after hooked up a few months ago! a-and I left because I knew you couldn't be a responsible dad" You blurted, unable to contain your emotions as the hormones in your body were on overdrive.

Thanos was frozen, staring at you in shock before finally snapping out of it as the doll called green light, he grabbed your arm holding you behind him as he followed the others past the red line "Just stay behind me" He whispered, your words stung, how could you be so sure of how he'd be as a dad if you never gave him a chance? As you made your way back to the giant main room, you took notice to Thanos's hand on your back leading you to the bed "Sit, you don't put yourself through too much" He explained softly, helping you over to your bunks before eyeing Nam-Gyu "Give her your bed, man" he demanded, his friend stuttering before giving up and giving you his bed that was floor level, him taking your third bunk bed. "Thanos" You warned, not wanting him to make it a huge deal "What?! You're huge! You don't need to be climbing!" He shouted before catching his tone, apologizing quietly "Okay, well One, that was very very rude, two, I can do whatever I please, if I feel like I can't do something, I'll tell you" You stated poking him in the chest with your finger, he just smirked at you, biting his bottom lip slightly "Have I ever told you, it's hot whenever you yell at me" he asked, trying his best to charm you, but instead you just flicked his forehead in annoyance "Get away, freak" You replied, he just smiled at you, sitting at the foot of your bunk "So it's my baby?" He asked smiling pointing to your stomach "Well, if not I'd be concerned" You said raising your eyebrows at him "Can I..touch it?.." He asked nervously "it's not an it, it's your daughter" you glared, before grabbing his hand slipping it under your jacket, pressing his finger down in just the right spot to get the small baby inside of you to move around "Woah..weird" He said grimacing as he pulled away in disgust "Really!?" You gasped in shock laughing loudly, somehow forgetting you were in a death game for a moment "Yea! You have a whole human inside of you! That's weird!" He laughed, resting his hand on yours "You put it there, Su-bong!" You argued, you swore sometimes you got with a completely dumbass.

"Y/n..If you'll let me...I wanna be there..I don't want to be like my dad" He frowned, squeezing your hand gently "Please?" He begged "I know I fucked up bad, but, I want to try again, please" He continued, you glared at him for a moment before sighing "How can I trust you? And you'll have to get clean, for real clean, not how you're usually clean" You added on, you just watched as he nodded his head, no faces or complaints "You're actually serious aren't you?..." you asked sweetly "I want to be a good person for you, y/n, please" He whispered, pressing his lips to your knuckles "I guess..but you only get one chance" You offered, he just nodded before flopping himself next to you "Thank you!" He cheered pressing multiple kisses all over your face as he chanted his thank you's, not realizing the next 18-19 years were going to be hell for the both of you.

The rest of the games, Thanos was always on you, making sure you didn't over do yourself or risk hurting yourself or your baby, charming you right back into his arms.

--

Taglist!!

@acehasmyheart

@corrdelia

@ag022123

[willieverseetheland]

good girl

Dexter Morgan x reader

based on this ask!

Warnings: 18+ smut, rough sex, unprotected sex (do as I say, not as I write), oral m!receiving, slight choking, dom!dexter Summary: Dexter comes home after an unsuccessful kill and needs to blow off some steam ;)

You stand in your kitchen, admiring your work. You've spent the entirety of the day cleaning, scrubbing until the whole room sparkled. The entire house is filled with the fresh lemon-y scent of cleaner. You plop down on your couch, satisfied with your hard work. You reach for the book lying on your coffee table when suddenly the door flies open and shuts with a loud slam. In walks your very handsome boyfriend, Dexter Morgan. Something about the look on his face, and the dramatic entrance, tells you he's not in the greatest mood. His gaze is dark, angry. You feel like you should be scared when he's like this, hell most people would, but you feel rather turned on instead. He's pacing around your living room. Not stopping to look at you, or even say anything.

"Dex, what's wrong?"

He shoots you a harsh glare

"It's just work. I should probably go" he replies

"No, don't. I want to help" you reach to grab his arm

"No, I shouldn't have come here" he pulls his arm back

You frown in response

"What can I do to make you stay" you ask, looking up at him with pleading eyes

he sighs

"I'm sure there's some way I could help. I can be pretty convincing" you slide your tongue across your bottom teeth while holding eye contact

He sighs again, shutting his eyes and tilting his head back

He's contemplating his next move. He'd love nothing more than to rip your clothes off and have you right here on the floor. But considering tonight's circumstances, not being able to feed that need inside him. He's afraid he'll be too much, too dark and empty. That he won't be able to control himself. He's been stalking his prey for the past two weeks all for nothing, all for him to turn up empty handed. No blood slide to bring home. He didn't know what else to do but come over. Deep down he knew what he wanted, what this would lead to. The only thing that could take his mind off of things, just for a little while at least. Maybe he could channel that hunger, that need, into something else. You.

As he's looking at you, something in his eyes shift. From anger to a hunger. Something insatiable. You knew what this meant. You could hardly contain your excitement as your arousal began to pool in your underwear. He cups your face in both hands kissing you hard, deep. Teeth clashing, breath heavy. It's like something switched in him. From a man wounded, angry, to a man in need. A man who knew what he wanted, and what he wanted was you. In this moment it's all he could think about. He had tunnel vison, trying to keep tonight's previous failure out of his mind. His hands began to roam your body, grabbing anything they could. You slid your hand down to his crotch, grabbing and rubbing. He growls in response. This only further fueled the fire inside him, like a spark to gasoline. He spun you around and slammed you against the wall.

He breaks the kiss searching your face for any sign of discomfort. He may be a killer, but he would never hurt the woman he loved.

"Keep going" you say breathlessly

At your confirmation, he returns to kissing you. Moving down your neck, sucking and biting. Your breath catches in your throat. His hand snakes down to play with the hem of your pants. He slides between the band reaching further down, tracing circles around your clit. You let out a soft moan. You move your hands to his hair, gliding your fingers through his auburn locks, pulling and tugging. He begins to kiss you more roughly now, breathing hard. You can feel him hardening against your thigh.

"Bedroom" you whisper

You wrap your legs around his waist as he picks you up. Never once breaking the kiss as he carries you to the bedroom. He drops you onto the mattress, springs creaking from the impact.

"Off" he orders, referring to your clothes

You slowly remove your shirt, then pause

"Everything" His face is like stone as he watches your every move, his eyes the only thing moving as he follows your hands move across your body.

When you unclasp your bra and let it slide off, you watch as his pupils dilate wide, focusing in on your now exposed chest.

You move your hands down to start working the buttons of your jeans, moving teasingly slow.

He grabs your wrist

"Don't play games with me" His voice ragged and deep

You can't help but smirk ever so slightly. You've never seen him like this before. Dominant? Sure. But never this dark and angry, never this in need.

You slide your pants off, then your underwear. You're completely exposed now, while he's still fully dressed. You blush a little. His eyes scan your body, taking it all in. Preparing for what's about to happen, playing out different scenarios in his mind. You frown when he doesn't make any moves to remove his own clothes. That tight green button up makes you think horrifically sinful things, you just want him to rip it off and crawl on top of you already. You guess you'll have to do it yourself.

You reach up to tug on the hem of his shirt, he understands and pulls it off over his head. He removes his belt as well which brings your attention to his now extremely large bulge. 'He must be so uncomfortable' you think. You look up at him, making eye contact as you slide his pants and boxers down to his knees. His wild eyes looking into yours as you lean forward to lick a long stripe along his cock. He clenches his jaw at the sensation, wanting more. You finally take him into your mouth, pushing further inch-by-inch. His head falls back as he lets out a low groan. You move your head slowly, still trying to adjust to him in your mouth. He decides this is too slow and places a hand on your head pushing you faster. Your gags only encourage him as the closer he gets the rougher and faster he pushes until he's full-on face fucking you. He stops however and pulls away; this isn't how he wants to finish. He wants more, he needs to be inside you.

He looks down at you, noticing tears streaming down your face. He snaps out of whatever sex induced daze he was in. His eyes dissolving from aroused to concerned.

"Are you okay? Was that too much?" His voice laced with worry

But to his surprise, you just smile up at him

"No, I can take it. I promise" you say, giving him the same pleading doe eyes that got you into this mess

With your approval, he immediately snaps back. Lips crashing into yours, tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, like he's trying to memorize your taste. He pushes you onto the bed and crawls over you. He continues devouring your lips, rough and passionate, he even bites and draws a little blood, much to his amusement. One hand grasping your jaw while the other snakes down to your core. He easily slides two fingers in while his thumb rubs circles on your clit. Your loud moans are muffled by his mouth on yours. Gripping your jaw tightly, he moves your head to the side to gain access to your neck. He loves the sounds you make when he bites the tender flesh where your jaw meets your earlobe. He ravages your neck, biting, licking, and sucking any available skin he can get his mouth on. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was a vampire. Maybe that's just the effect you have on him. You moan loudly as his fingers work you into bliss, practically screaming his name as you cum.

He moves your face back to look at him. Your eyes glazed over with pleasure, one of his favorite looks on you. He grabs your thighs, wrapping them around his waist. He locks eyes with you as he aligns with your entrance and slowly pushes in. He loves watching your mouth fall open and your eyebrows scrunch in pleasure. He moves his hands to your hips, gripping tightly. His pace quickens, causing you to moan with every deep thrust. You squeeze your eyes shut as pleasure rolls through you.

His thrusts become faster and rougher. He moves a hand from your waist to your chest, rubbing his thumb across your nipples.

He suddenly pulls out and you whimper at the emptiness. You look at him confused

"Dex, please. I need you"

But before you know it, he grabs your waist and flips you over. His hands return to your hips, gripping them tightly. You arch your back in response, pushing into him.

"Good girl" he says in a low taunting voice

You moan at his words, God you love when he's like this

Without warning, he plunges back into you. Hitting deeper inside you with this new angle. He's just as rough, pounding into you relentlessly. With every stroke he can feel all his anger and stress fall away. He doesn't care about what happened earlier, all he can feel is you and the way you wrap around him perfectly. It doesn't take long for you to fall over the edge as you're sensitive from your previous orgasm. You cum hard, moaning out his name as your walls clench around him. Dexter continues to fuck into you, his thrusts becoming increasingly sloppy as he gets closer. He leans over you, bringing his lips to your ear.

"Inside, is that okay?" he whispers

You can't do anything other than nod

With a few final thrusts he comes undone, spilling into you. He slumps over you, chest against your back. Breathing in sync, feeling each other's bodies pressed together. He places soft kisses to the back of your neck, a complete contrast to the man he was a second ago. He collapses on the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you.

"I didn't go too far, did I?" he asks in his usual calm, gentle voice

"No, you were perfect." you smile, pulling his hand to your face and placing a gentle kiss.

...

This ended up WAYYY longer than expected but I'm very glad. Big thank you to the person that requested this, I hope I did your vision justice. Thanks for reading! <3

[peachsukii]

— emergency contact

it’s been two years since you’ve seen your ex-boyfriend, and didn’t plan on changing that anytime soon. a nasty villain fight lands you in the hospital during an overnight patrol and leaves you unable to tell the doctors who to call in your dazed state.

✮ content. late 20s. ex-boyfriend bakugo, hospitalization, sappy confessions & second chances. distance makes the heart grow fonder kind of deal.

『 #reis softie sundays 』

Sharp, shooting pain down your back and a desperate cry from your partner ⎯ that was the only thing you remember from the last…four hours? Time is becoming illusive at this point, blending together with how fast everything unraveled around you.

Were you injured on patrol? Did that villain slip through your fingers and escape? Where was your partner in all this chaos?

“Doctor, she’s waking up,” you hear in the distance, muffled but clear enough to understand. A nurse walks into your blurred vision, a soft smile on her lips. “Hi hon, you’re in the hospital. We’re taking you to your room now, hang tight.”

All you can manage to do is nod in acknowledgement, the world spinning on its axis and making you extremely dizzy. Your eyes fall closed, a hazy sleep welcoming you in seconds.

When you wake next, you're not quite sure how much time has passed. The room sits in darkness, the only sources of light coming from the moon outside the window and the various machines chirping around you. There's a static in your head, as if you're stuck on a radio frequency that hasn't been adjusted to the correct channel. Even with all the noise in your head, a familiar voice can be heard outside in the hallway, one you'd never mistake for anyone else.

"It's late," a nurse says, presumably trying to convince him to go home. "Are you sure you want to stay? We can try her other contacts again in a few hours."

"M'sure. Do I need'ta sign in or whatever?"

"No, that's alright. I'll notate it on her chart and let the front desk know. I'll be back in a bit and we can talk more about treatment."

The door slides open to prove you're not imagining things ⎯ your ex isn't a manifestation of your delirious state. Bakugo's standing in the dim light of the hallway, tip toeing inside and shutting the door as quietly as possible. When his eyes fall upon your hospital bed, he notices that you're awake and sighs. "Been awhile."

You don't have the energy to do this dance with him, to go back and forth with lightheartedness like old times. "Why are you here?"

His lips press into a straight line, jaw clenched tight as he seems to silently ask himself the same question. He makes his way over to the bed, taking a seat at the edge by your feet. "I'm still one of your emergency contacts in your hero file."

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. There's no way you haven't updated your database profile in two years...right? Bakugo catches onto your confusion and explains before you have a chance to press him further on the matter. "M'the only one who answered."

What time was it, anyways? Your eyes bounce around the room swiftly to find a wall clock. You squint a bit to read it, finally making out the numbers. 4:30...am?

"What did they call you for?" you yawn, rubbing the exhaustion out of your eyes. "I don't even know what happened."

He takes a deep breath as a large hand finds your thigh, resting atop the thin blanket. His touch makes you want to melt into a puddle, memories of your past relationship coming back in waves.

"They didn't tell me much, only that it was life or death. Thankfully, your ass chose life." He shakes his head, a quiet huff escaping him. "Somethin' about a villain's poison quirk. Ya got hit in the spine and it paralyzed you temporarily, an' you fell from someplace high up. Your partner caught ya and the paramedics got to you just in time."

Oh. Well, that explains the pain from earlier.

"But why did you answer their call, Baku⎯" you cut yourself off to correct his name as it leaves your lips. "Katsuki?"

"I'm not heartless, just 'cause we haven't talked in ages doesn't mean I don't care about ya."

You shift in your bed a bit, eyes gravitating toward the window to avoid his gaze. Truth be told, you two ended on decent terms and not maliciously. Wrong place, wrong time...at least, that's what you two chalked it up to. You were both too busy with hero work, too absent from each other's lives to properly be a couple. After a year, you convinced yourself that you were satisfied watching him from afar, catching brief glimpses of his life through interviews and news reports. That was your excuse, a cowardly way to keep him out of reach and prevent you, and him, from getting distracted.

"Hey." Bakugo's fingers squeeze your thigh to recollect your attention, the blanket crumpling under his palm. You're terrified to look at him, knowing full well that in your battered state, you'll crumble like stone if he says anything remotely sweet. Those vermillion eyes of his always had a way of making you weak ⎯ soft. "I was thinkin' on my way over here that I should'a called ya, reached out to keep in touch. M'sorry for not doin' that."

"It's...fine," you stammer out, a shaky hand coming up to wave off his concern. "We don't have to talk about that now."

"I don't wanna only talk to you when you're hurt, or worse..." he trails off, screwing his eyes shut to avoid the dread lingering in his chest. "Look. What m'gettin' at is you scared the shit outta me, and it made me realize that I've got a lot to say after all these years."

Oh boy, you brace yourself for impact, expecting the explosive nature to come pouring out any second. But, it never comes.

Before you could stop him, Bakugo's on his feet and leaning over the bed, arms slung around your shoulders to pull you close. A strange but familiar veil of comfort drapes over you in the moment, pulling on your heartstrings. Your eyes begin to sting when the words he whispers finally reach your ears. "M'done usin' hero work as an excuse to avoid you. I wanna talk this shit out...when you're ready. I'd love to make ya dinner again."

You can't help but let out a breathless laugh, arms finally coming up to return his hug. "Only if you promise to make your special katsudon. I've been craving it for weeks."

He chuckles over your shoulder, squeezing you a bit tighter in response. "Deal."

Who knew that a villain was what you two needed to face your fears, to finally admit that the spark was never smothered into nothingness. And this time, something tells you that you'll both make damn sure it stays ablaze.

happy softie sunday!! I know it's been awhile since I've written one. hope you don't mind some baku-sap :)

✮ network. @pixelcafe-network

✮ tags. @slayfics @maddietries @starieqq

@liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague

@napbatata @Yoyolovesdaiki @kirishimaeijiromyman

@strwbrrykthv @awkwardchick87 @stunies @sakufilm

[witherby]

HI HI. SAME ANON :33anon here!!!

omg???? jfc christ? that was so good im shaking my cup for more 😭 i think the fact my ask is being used as a power shower is silly... i love it keep up the good work!

(side note ive done metamorphosis may i be 🎆anon.... i will be yapping at you on a later date o7)

Welcome to the club 🎆 I am smooching ur cheek

Hahaha...wouldn't it be so silly....if I used your ask again.....to post the second part hahahaha.....isn't that the silliest idea hahahaha.........

The Littlest Wayne: Uncertain Home

(Part 2 of 2)

Masterlist is Here!

"Let me make sure I've got this straight."

Everyone stiffens in their seats. When Batman says things like that, it means he is very, very close to yelling. Batman never yells unless his patience has reached its limit, his emotional threshold has bubbled over, or he hasn't slept in over six consecutive days. Given his usual activities, it could very well be a combination of the three, and the current situation is not helping.

"You —" he points a gauntleted finger at Manhunter, "— realized my child was showing signs of developing their powers six weeks ago, and told no one."

He turns to Superman and Diana next, talking through clenched teeth.

"And then you two, today, realized the same thing, indirectly told them they would no longer have a place in my home, and then they vanished under your cape."

He places his hands on the meeting table. Inhales. Exhales.

"No one attempted to reach out and express their concerns to me, the father, in either incident."

He slams his fists on the table. The wood splinters under the impact. Everyone flinches with it.

"AND NOW MY CHILD IS MISSING! DID I FORGET ANYTHING? DID I LEAVE ANYTHING OUT!?"

The silence afterwards is deafening. Bruce yanks his cowl off and slams it to the floor, running his hands through his hair.

"The Watchtower is under lockdown until further notice. We do not leave until either I find my kid, or I figure out how to track them down."

"Batman," the Flash chimes in, "I feel for you. This is a bad situation, but we can't all stay here; I have to —"

Bruce rounds the table and crowds Barry into his seat with near-inhuman speed. His eyes are wide and wild and his teeth are bared.

"We do not leave until I find them."

The lights briefly turn red and an automated voice comes over the intercom, alerting them that lockdown protocols have initiated. The heroes watch as blast shields cover the windows and the Zeta tubes deactivate, effectively blocking their only ways out.

Green Lantern re-enters the room from the observation deck with a determined expression.

"Checked the monitors and surrounding galaxy. Skies are clear, and earth-side we should be fine for at least a couple hours, so I went ahead and triggered the protocol."

"Hal!" Barry protests. "C'mon, I'm gonna be late to work again! It's not as easy for some of us to maintain our civilian covers, you know!"

"Well, then it sounds like we gotta find our missing Mouse fast."

Bruce presses a button on his gauntlet and pulls a small ball out of it, rolling it to the center of the table. A hologram screen pops up and shows a picture of you sitting in Tim's lap and enthusiastically looking at something on his computer with him. To the right of the image, a wall of text begins to appear, detailing observations made about your growth, health, and development of your powers.

"You already knew," Diana mutters, like the words have been punched out of her. Clark holds his head in his hands.

"Why didn't you tell us then, huh?" Oliver frowns. "Didn't think we could benefit from that information?"

"My child, my discretion," Bruce hisses. That shuts Ollie right back up. "This is everything I've been able to passively observe about their ability. They can latch onto any shadows in their immediate vicinity, up to a range of approximately one hundred feet, and until now has only used them for pathfinding, like solving puzzles or looking for small objects. What just happened today with Superman's cape is the first discovered instance of them being able to traverse into darkness itself."

"That's why the Watchtower is locked down," J'onn realizes. "If they can only travel so far with the shadows, chances are high that they're still in here."

"Yes."

"How do we pull them out if we find them?" Arthur speaks up, arms crossed. "Last I checked, no one else has shadow powers."

"Do what you can without risking injury to them or yourselves. If you can talk them out, that will be the ideal tactic. Any more questions?" Bruce waits a few seconds for anyone to speak up, then dismisses the holo-screen and rises to his full height. "Then everyone fan out, cast some shadows, and get to work."

--

Arthur is having no luck. He checks the furniture that was already casting shadows, like tables and beds and appliances, to no avail. Calling to you and feeling around those dark spaces isn't gonna get him anywhere.

Clark and Diana had picked up his cape and hunkered down under the fabric, gingerly asking you to please come out, Uncle Clark and Auntie Di are very sorry they implied what they did, they never meant to scare you, please please please come back.

Barry is zipping around the whole tower, checking high spaces and low, calling for you with a mixture of urgency and concern.

Ollie uses his body to cast a shadow under the fluorescent lighting and Dinah crouches in the space of it, patting the ground gently and urging you to appear. She insists everyone is worried and looking for you because they want you to be safe.

Bruce is frantic. He's visually very composed, but Hal can see the tremble in his hands as he slowly and methodically checks every single shadow he can find or create for signs of you.

"Bruce," Hal mutters, watching him check his cape for the fifteenth time in just as many minutes. "Bruce, sit down and breathe for a bit."

"Don't mention breathing," Bruce snaps. "This is unprecedented. I'm working with zero useful information and three of my teammates contributed to this situation in the first place. Can they just exist in darkness forever, or is there a limit before they get spit back out? Can they even get back out? Is there oxygen wherever they are? Are they safe or in any kind of distress? If you don't have answers to these questions or haven't found them yet, I don't want you talking to me."

He turns to check his cape again and almost runs right into J'onn.

"There was a shadow moving in the training room," he noted. "When I approached to investigate, it melted away. I found it important to tell you that Flittermouse seems to be active and uninjured judging by the ease in which that shadow moved."

The Manhunter leaves them again, phasing through the walls to continue searching for you. Bruce pulls his gloves off and rubs his face, sighing.

"Hal."

"I forgive you," comes the immediate reply. Hal places a hand on Bruce's back and offers him a thin smile. "You're a dad who's scared for your four-year-old kid. I think you're entitled to a little bit of bitchiness."

Bruce hums.

"Just a little bit, though. Like fifteen percent more bitch than your baseline. Which is to say, if you talk to me like that again I'm going to make a giant cartoon hammer and beat you to death with it."

Both men hear you giggle. Their heads whip around in the direction of the sound, and find a small, child-shaped shadow moulded into the corner. It's a strange thing, to look at a shadow with no source. It would be frightening if it wasn't you.

"Mouse?" Bruce immediately calls, stepping towards you. The giggling stops and the shadow shrinks. He crouches down, palms extended. "No no no! Don't go, don't go anywhere, please. Can I talk to you?"

You don't respond. Bruce isn't entirely sure if you can, in your current form. You haven't run away yet, however, so he inches just a bit closer.

"I'm...there's...." He stops and starts, searching for the best words to use. "Mouse, there was a misunderstanding. No one is making you leave. I'm not going to give you up or send you away, I promise."

"...m e t a h u m a n..." you mutter. Both Bruce and Hal shiver. It sounds like darkness itself whispering directly into their ears, faint and echoing and all-encompassing.

"Yes, that's what people with skills like yours are called," he confirms.

Your shadow doesn't move for a while. Bruce shuffles closer, palms extended, and is about to ask you to come out, but then your entire form wobbles and starts shrinking even more.

"...n o m e t a s i n G o t h a m..." you say, and the sadness in your voice is so potent Hal has to brace himself against the wall.

"No!" Bruce says, pressing his palm against the wall just a second too late. You dissolve and disappear. "That's not — ffffffuck."

He presses his forehead to the wall and closes his eyes, taking slow, deep breaths to avoid screaming. It takes a while.

"They're not going to talk to me," he eventually says. "They're scared of me, of that damned rule I —"

He cuts himself off and rubs a hand down his face.

"You have to do it."

"Me? Specifically?" Hal asks.

"You're their favorite uncle." Bruce pushes himself off the floor and rests his hand on Hal's forearm. "They adore you. They ask when you're going to visit Gotham again all the time. If anybody's gonna get them to understand that they're not in any trouble or danger of losing their family because of something I did, it's gonna be you."

"Whoa. No pressure," Hal says. He knows it's true though — you absolutely adore Hal, and the feeling is mutual. You feel almost like his own kid. He's just as scared as Bruce is about your current situation. "Okay...alright, I got this. Listen, tell the others that Mouse probably isn't gonna come out for 'em. Go hang out in the meeting room and gimme an hour alone. I'll bring them back."

Bruce nods, but he seems hesitant to leave the part of the hall where they spotted your shadow. Hal gives him a small nudge and he eventually turns away, his boots clocking softly against the floor.

Hal inhales slowly, holds it, then exhales for a count of ten.

He's got this.

--

He does not have this. Hal walked into an empty corridor and flicked all the lights off, choosing to sit in the darkness and try calling out to you for almost thirty minutes. There's been no luck.

He sighs and uses his ring to construct a small bear, illuminating the immediate space around him in green, and makes it walk around.

"Y'know you used to love playing with my constructs," he murmurs. "We had this game I made up, where you would chase after whatever toy I made as fast as you could and try to catch it. I let you win a lot."

He makes a construct of you as a much smaller infant, not yet able to walk, crawling eagerly after the bear.

"You'd grab the little toy and hug it tight, and then come show me you got it. And I'd scoop you up and give you a cookie before we did it all again. We had to really tone down the cookie part because you got sick one time. Bruce made me sleep on the floor for a week. Not even one of the million couches in the manor. The floor. It was the worst."

He hears the surrounding darkness around him giggle. Hal leans against the wall and heaves a large, relieved sigh.

"Hey, kid," he says softly. "S'good to hear you."

You don't respond. He tries not to feel discouraged, instead seizing the opportunity presented.

"I'm not gonna ask you to come out, but if you don't mind...I'm kinda lonely. D'you think we could play that game again?"

Hal vanishes the constructs and makes a new one — a small, stuffed bat toy. He makes it flap its little wings and flop in circles.

"Think you can catch it? This one's a bit feisty."

Nothing happens for a few seconds. Hal feels himself growing nervous, and he's about to abandon the idea and suggest something else, but then the bat just vanishes. The construct is sucked up into the shadows, like darkness itself came up and hugged it into the void. A knot in his chest comes undone.

"That," he says, "was awesome. Okay, here's another one. Even feistier than the last."

This goes on for a while. Hal makes something for you to chase, you emerge from the dark just long enough to pull it in with you, and the process is rinse and repeat. Eventually, though, you come out of the shadows more and more, staying out of it longer and longer to chase around the conjured toys, until you're just tossing them into the shadows with gleeful little cheers.

"Got it!" You cry, jumping up to reach another one, this time shaped like an owl. You're panting from exertion and grinning widely at Hal, just standing and hugging it to your chest. "I win?"

"You win again," Hal agrees, expression painfully fond. He adores you wholeheartedly. "C'mere and get a victory hug, kid. Don't have any cookies on me, but we'll do a raincheck on that."

You go to him easily, practically collapsing in his lap, and rest your head against his chest while you idly pet the glowing owl toy. The area is bathed in dim green, enough to see each other without strain but still casting more than enough shadows for you to hide in again if you wanted.

"Fantastic job," Hal murmurs, kissing the top of your head. You nuzzle into his chest even more, hiding your face. "We definitely have to do that again some time. Don't you think?"

You start to nod, but the motion is jerky. You hesitate, then shrug, hugging the toy tighter.

"Oh, Mousey," he says, running his fingers through your hair. "You didn't think your powers would make Uncle Hal stop wanting to play with you, did ya?"

You slowly nod again, curling in on yourself.

"Well, that's just plain wrong. I love you, honey. Everybody loves you, y'know? You're smart, and adorable, and soooo much fun to be around," Hal insists, giving you a quick squeeze. Your mouth twitches like you're trying not to smile. "And it's gonna be way more fun now that you have cool shadow powers! Hide and seek might get a little challenging, but we'll make it work."

"...and Daddy?" You mutter. "Will he...want to play, too?"

"I know Daddy would love to play any game you wanted," Hal swore. "Daddy loves you more than anything in the whole wide world. And you know what else?"

"What?" You ask, lifting your head. You look at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows, hanging onto his every word.

"Sometimes Daddy makes mistakes. Like creating dumb rules he shoulda broke years ago."

You look away, snuggling further into Hal.

"What if...Daddy don't wanna break the rule?" You whisper.

Hal curls around you almost protectively, kissing your head again.

"Then he's a big, smelly dummy, and I'll take care of you instead," he promises. "You can live at my house, and I'll still bring you to the Watchtower to hang out with everyone and play games, and maybe, if you're extra good, I'll take you on vacation in outer space. I'll show you things you've never seen, like planets with four moons, and people as tall as skyscrapers, and space food that turns your hair all different colors. It'll explode your tiny head!"

"Nooo!" You giggle, grinning. "I don't want a exploded head!"

"Hmm...you drive a hard bargain kid," Hal says. "Okay, I won't give you explodey-head food. But only because you said so."

He lets you get your laughter out, then gently pats your back to regain your attention.

"I know you're very scared," he says, "but I promise this doesn't change the fact that you are so, so incredibly loved. I bet if you gave the others a chance, they'd be more than willing to prove it. Especially your dad."

You tighten your grip on the owl in your arms, bottom lip wobbling for a moment.

"Could you give him a chance, Mouse?" Hal asks. "If you don't want to, that's fine. We can work an arrangement out and always try again a different day. But I know he would be really, really excited to see you again."

You stare at Hal, face tight in contemplation. He waits patiently, continuing to rub small circles in your back.

His patience is rewarded when you bury your face in his chest again, nodding.

"Want daddy," you whisper. Hal settles you more securely in his arms and immediately rises to his feet, relishing the burst of satisfaction and relief in his chest.

He takes you back into the meeting room. Bruce immediately stands up from the table when he spots you curled up in Hal's embrace, hands twitching like he wants to hold you himself.

He moves with all the carefulness of someone approaching a wild animal. His face is uncharacteristically open, broadcasting his worry for you and relief that you're unharmed.

"Hi, sweet pea," Bruce mutters, silk-soft, and that's all it takes to make you start sobbing and reach for him. Your father doesn't hesitate, sweeping you up and giving assurance after assurance that you are just as treasured and loved as you've always been, that he is so happy to be your dad, that you belong in Gotham and that will never change no matter what.

The lockdown gets lifted from the Watchtower. Several heroes, after conveying their relief and gratitude over your safety, take their leave. Diana and Clark stay behind to apologize profusely, both to you and Bruce, for implying that you would ever be unwelcome in your own home just for being different. It's easy for you to forgive them, but Bruce is grinding his jaw a bit, so they excuse themselves for the night and take their leave.

"Well." Hal claps his hands together and yawns. "I'm ready for a drink and a bed. What do we say we hit the road, huh? C'mon, B, let's get Flittermouse back home. I've hit my daily quota for adventure."

Bruce nods, walking with you back to the Zeta tubes. You've already nodded off in his arms, drained from your stressful day.

"Thank you, Hal," he says, preparing to warp home. "Come by after the kids are in bed. Let me repay you properly."

"Y'know, normally I'd be all over that," Hal smirks, "but I'm seriously beat. Can I cash my reward in tomorrow?"

Bruce gives him a small smile. "Whenever you want. Come by anyway, if you like. We don't have to do anything."

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you later, then." Hal crosses his arms and relaxes against the corridor wall, smiling down at your dozing form. "You take care. Both of you."

Bruce thanks him again, disappearing in a flash of light. When Hal drops by later that evening, he finds his boyfriend asleep with you in his arms, clinging to his shirt and drooling on his chest as you coast peacefully in Dreamland.

Before joining the cuddle pile, he finds that sitting on the nightstand, written in a combination of pen and crayon, is a contract holding both yours and Bruce's signatures:

The rule against Metahumans in Gotham is hereby null and void forever and ever.

Signed by: Daddy & Mousey

[multific]

Two Sides of The Same Coin

Hannibal Lecter x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Cannibalism, Smut, Murder +18!!!

Summary: You two were so different, yet still the same. 

"Mrs Lecter?" 

You turned and smiled at the woman. "Yes?" you asked with a soft tone when in reality you were fuming.

How dare she just come up to you out of the blue?!

How dare she interrupt your perfect evening?!

"Hi, My name is Lucy, and I'm a huge fan of your books." of course she was, your books are brilliant. "I truly believe you are a pioneer in the genre of horror-romance."

"Thank you very much." Of course you were, no one was as good as you.

"I was wondering if you could sign my book please?"

"No problem at all." you smiled so sweetly. Why would she even have the book with her?! You are in a restaurant! You quickly signed her book and she thanked you, with your smile still present you turned back and lifted your glass to your lips.

"No need to be angry, Darling." your husband chuckled as you looked into his eyes.

Reading the other as if you were open books was something that came to both of you naturally. 

"I'm here to celebrate our anniversary. Not at a meet and greet."

"Of course, but you have to indulge them a little. Make them think they are important so they keep coming back. You mastered that one, My Love."

"I believe it was you rubbing off on me. After all, it is 30 years we have known one another."

"And I knew you were trouble from the second I saw you. Cunning, manipulative, narcissistic, egoistic, psychotic. And yet you are stunning and mine." Hannibal lifted his glass as you clicked yours against his.

"Only yours." you smiled at him, this one, was not fake but a genuine one for your husband.

On your way home from the restaurant, it began to rain, you let out a long sigh as Hannibal was driving.

"Rain always makes me nostalgic," you said as he grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it. He stopped at a red light and you looked at him. "When you killed my stepfather... for me. It was also raining."

"He had it coming, he abused you and murdered your mother. I gave him a merciful end. One he didn't deserve."

"He deserved to suffer like I did, but it was not what I meant, Hannibal."

"Please, elaborate then."

"You killed him because he was about to kill me, you became my saviour, but it is not only that. I remember you tore him apart, you kept on cutting and breaking his bones. I should have been disgusted, yet all I could think about was the way your muscles tensed and the grunts you let out."

"So, I turned you on." he spoke as he turned a corner. "I figured, from the way you acted after."

"I never got naked so fast in my life. We made love in that pool of blood in front of the fireplace. I remember we were young and unsure. It was so hot, I could taste blood on your lips." you could recall the way he moved his hips, so amazing, he reached such depths inside you that you weren't even sure existed. 

But he could also recall the way you completely submit to him. You only ever done that to him, no one else gets to have control over you, but him.

"Why are you bringing this up now? It has been a very long time ago."

"Because I want you to do the same tonight. As my gift for our wedding anniversary, I wish to watch you hunt, break and cut and then, I want you to fuck me in the blood."

"We are very similar, My Love." he stopped the car, your eyes never leaving him. "I was thinking almost the same." he smiled as the window behind you rolled down.

"Hi there, I like a three-way, 500 for an hour." the woman behind you talked and you finally turned to look at her.

Prostitutes disgusted you, the way they looked at your husband made your blood boil, but you smiled at her. 

"How about a thousand and I get to watch?" Hannibal replied and you smirked.

The woman agreed and got into the backseat, having no idea what she was in for.

"Happy anniversary."

"I love you." you said as he began to drive again.

---

The next morning you wake up in your bed, under the warm sheets with the smell of food filling the air.

You slowly woke up as the blanket fell down your naked body.

You rolled out of bed, and got dressed in one of Hannibal's shirts before heading to the kitchen.

"Good morning." you said as he had his back turned towards you. You rounded the kitchen island and hugged him.

"Morning. I made your favourite for breakfast. Bacon with eggs."

You looked at the meat sizzling in the pan before looking up at Hannibal as he leaned down to kiss you.

"She truly was a pig." 

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[ssahotchnerr]

begging for nanny!reader x hotch

aka aaron discovers reader is going on a date, our man gets a bit mean and jealous, things get a bit steamy and it ends with him begging reader not to go🙈🙈

right now

🤭 cw; fem nanny!reader, jealous and some possessive!aaron 😵‍💫, slight bratty reader?, heavy suggestion - minors dni wc; 1.2k

"Homework is done. Soccer bag is packed for tomorrow, but uniform is finishing up in the dryer now." You relayed everything on your internal to-do list, mentally checking off each box. "Oh, he has a permission slip for a class trip in his folder that needs signing. I reminded Jack to remind you, but just so you're aware, too. He's eating at his friend's, so you don't have to worry about dinner."

Aaron nodded along to your instructions. You looked throughout the kitchen, as if something would pounce out and remind you of something you'd potentially forgotten.

When nothing availed, "Okay, that should cover it."

"You're amazing, per usual." Aaron complimented, exhaling an at-eased breath. He glanced around the clean apartment, before discreetly admiring you. "I can't tell you how nice it is knowing things are taken care of here. I'm able to come home and breathe. Jack adores you. Seriously, what would we do without you?"

You blushed at his praise, warmth sweeping through you. "Happy to help."

"How was he today?" He asked, swiftly grabbing the mail from the table, beginning to poke through it.

"Perfect. Per usual." You shared, tossing Aaron a grin. Jack made your job tremendously easy - he was cooperative, kind mannered, overall the sweetest kid. "Although, I did have to remind him to stop leaving his shoes in the middle of the entryway." You added jokingly, as if it could be an inconvenience.

Aaron chuckled. His eyes squinted humorously as he quipped in return, "I'll have a chat with him."

Your smile lingered, fading away gradually as you began packing yourself up. "And thanks for relieving me early. I know how busy you are, so I really do appreciate it."

Nervousness pumped through your veins at the thought of your evening plans. You've been in the Hotchners' lives for a few months now, so casually discussing your plans should've come naturally, easily, but it didn't. Not with all things considered.

"No problem, happy to accommodate. You deserve to relax too." His eyebrows furrowed, tossing aside unimportant, junk mail. "If you don't mind me asking, what're you up to tonight?"

"I, um," Your gaze dropped, grabbing ahold of your bag. Your cheeks flushed, suddenly feeling very guilty. You took your time answering, "I have a date, actually."

He stopped stifling through the mail at once, his gaze lifting. "A date?"

"Yeah." You continued to pack up, throwing your bag over your shoulder and avoiding his eyes altogether. "A date."

"With who?" Aaron's words were harsher than he anticipated, causing you to freeze this time. He didn't like the concept of you seeing someone, not a bit.

Your eyes finally met his - his hardened stare. The expression awakened something in you, and you reciprocated back, your words equally as blunt. "Nobody you know."

You've never witnessed Aaron like this, and likewise, it brought something out in you as well; a newfound attitude. You wanted to disobey, solely to see how he reacted. He clearly wasn't happy, and you were entranced to find out more; curious as to what he would do, and hoping it was what you had in mind.

Aaron stood there rigidly, silently seething. The atmosphere had changed completely. No longer was it a light, witty one - but filled with the utmost tension.

"Well, thanks again-" Your hand found the doorknob, pulling the door open a few inches. You didn't make it far; Aaron's hand found the door above your head, pushing it shut.

"What's he like?"

You always caught whiffs of Aaron's cologne all throughout the apartment, whether he was in the residence or not. It was spicy, yet subtly sweet; suitable for him.

But now with his close proximity, mumbling into your ear, it was dizzying. You couldn't think straight even if you tried. You turned, coming face to face with his chest. His button-up was stretched tight against his torso, adding to the illusion of the strong muscle he possessed underneath. His arm had also stayed put, to the right of your temple.

You were caged in, and not complaining.

It had a notable effect it had on you. You wanted to be all consumed by him; you needed him to take charge, and you'd willingly allow it.

Your back met the door, as well as your head as you gazed up at him. You were lost with words, your heart thumping wildly in your chest, restricting any normal breathing.

"What's he like?" He repeated, urging you to answer. While his voice remained taut, it was joined by a condensing tone. As if he knew better. Knew you better, and you weren't the one to object.

Needless to say, he was enjoying this: making you noticeably squirm, and the fact it didn't take much to do so.

Your breath hitched, going fuzzy at the edges. "I don't know. A friend set us up."

"I think you should cancel it."

"Excuse me?'

"By all means, you can go. Only," His eyes flicked up and down your body, slotting a thigh between your legs. "What you're exhibiting tells me you'd rather not."

You resisted the urge to grind down on his leg, attempting to remain as neutral as possible. "Are you profiling me?"

"Maybe." Aaron smirked softly. His eyes were dark, a deep contrast to the glow you had witnessed earlier. "Maybe I have been for a while."

"Okay." You challenged him, forcing yourself to speak up. With an arch of your eyebrow, "What have you noticed?"

A delightful little laugh escaped him. As stern as he was portraying, there was still a gentleness to him. "You want me to touch you right now."

"What?" You squeaked out. He wasn't wrong.

"Don't interrupt. Let me finish." He leaned in closer, his hands itching to make contact with your waist - to firmly hold you - to dig his fingertips just enough into your hips to leave marks. "I see the way you look at me. I always have. Similar to now, only your pupils are dilated. Your breath has picked up so dramatically, it's almost amusing."

You remained silent, holding your gaze, while he continued.

"This is the closest we've ever been to each other, and by no means are you trying to move away. You have the space to." He relaxed his stance, to emphasize his point. "You're in no hurry."

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to squirm. You were getting worked up, arousal pooling in you - it didn't help with your need for friction.

"I haven't done anything yet, and just look at you."

A soft whimper left you as you forced your posture to straighten, slowly perching up on your tiptoes. Your lip ached to meet his. The gap between the two of you was maddening; you needed him on you, you on him, you didn't care. As long as the contact was there.

"Do you want me to? I need a yes, sweetheart." He inched closer, his lips dangerously close, centimeters apart.

And with that, you succumbed to him completely, scrambling to throw your arms over his neck and pulling his body to yours.

"Yes."

[bunni-v1]

how do you think lighter would handle the reader after learning it is going to be their first time aka a virgin reader x lighter

Lighter and Virgin!Reader

🍓Yayay! I wanted to really take my time to write this one, so sorry that I didn't get it out super quick. Wrote it while listening to Christmas music btw, probably gonna write smth smutty for Christmas now. I've never written full-on smut outside of an RP setting so... apolocheese if this is cringe. You can throw tomatoes at me, I will eat them like the rodent I am.

Minors DNI

TW: NSFW; First time!; sickeningly sweet lighter; grammar errors probably lol (I promise I edit my stuff).

Info: Lighter x Reader; Nsfw; Fluffy; no pronouns but reader is fem bodied

Lighter is, and always has been, a rather simple man. While he loves you and respects you more than anything in the world, he too has thoughts that any man might have. It was only natural that he found you... mmm... titillating. You were his partner after all, and you were very good-looking if you asked him.

So many times he's found you on his lap, or beneath him whichever comes easiest at the time, drowning in your sweet lips. His hands wandered over your clothed sides, desperate for a taste of the real thing. He was addicted to you, and sweet candies couldn't placate him this time. It was heavenly having you in his grasp, so very close to everything he'd been dreaming about.

The only issue was that you always seemed to have some excuse to push him away. He'd fisted his cock one too many times alone in his room after another failed encounter, and he just didn't get it. You always seemed so eager, so pliant, right up until he slid his hands below your shirt.

The second his fingers made contact with the soft, oh-so-tempting skin there you would jump like he'd burned you. Then you'd push his eager hands down and come up with some lame reason to leave. He understood that maybe you weren't ready, that was okay, but didn't you feel safe enough to tell him? No, surely something else was going on. He could tell, there was something else that was holding you back, and he was going to figure it out.

Tonight would be the perfect chance to do just that. The girls were busy doing their own thing at the bar, leaving him with all the free time in the world to be alone with you. As usual, he had you on his lap, mouths working against each other. His tongue pressed into yours, happily exploring its space as he swallowed up your whimpers and whines.

Fingers press into your thighs like a vice, desperate for all the skin they can get their hands on. As you wind your fingers into his hair, he takes it as his sign to slide his hands up to your hips, slowly pressing you down into him. You jolt a little in his grasp, drawing a low chuckle from the back of his throat. So cute.

You pull back from him, a thin string of saliva keeping you connected, eyes wide and face flushed. Your chest heaves with effort, and your hair is an absolute disaster. It makes his cock twitch in his jeans, another gasp falling from your pretty swollen lips at the sensation.

"Lighter..." You say breathlessly, and he knows its meant to be a scolding remark, but he just finds it too cute.

He cocks his head to the side, "What? Too much to handle?"

You give him an eye roll that is all too endearing, trying and failing to straighten out your messy hair, "It's getting late, I should probably head to mine soon."

His smile falls from his face, disappointed again, like clockwork. He can't even find it in himself to hide it anymore, which makes you frown too. You press a kiss on his cheek, apologetically, "What's wrong? Why is my champion pouting?"

The pet name is almost enough to get him to forget everything, but then you shift on his lap a little and his hard-on screams at him to at least get some kind of answer. So he sighs, patting the meat of your thigh almost sadly, "Why do you always do that?"

You raise an eyebrow, which he mirrors. You know better than to play dumb, Lighter can see right through the schtick. Your demeanor cracks first, and you seem genuinely nervous as you respond, "I don't know..."

"Listen, baby. If you're not ready all you gotta do is tell me--" He tries to soothe you, because he doesn't want you to be upset. There was no shame in just not being ready, but you cut him off before he can finish his reassurances.

"No, it's not-" A grumble leaves your chest, "I want to, I really do I just... I get nervous."

It's his turn to raise an eyebrow at you, sunglasses slanting down his nose as he tilts his head curiously, "What's there to be nervous about...?"

You fluster, looking anywhere your eyes can find that wasn't him. You were awfully cute when you were embarrassed, but he couldn't let himself get distracted. With the gentlest touch to your chin, he refocuses your attention on him. A reassuring smile on his face, urging you without words to tell him what was wrong.

Some kind of war goes on behind your pretty little eyes, and he has to tap your lip with his thumb to center you again. You pout against the finger, and it takes everything in him not to push it up and into your mouth. Finally, after what seemed like ages of waiting, you give another sigh. "I'm... a virgin."

"Oh," he says, automated like a robot. It takes his brain a moment to click the gears together, but once they do, he nods. Oh. That makes so much sense.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, pressing off his chest to get up, but he tugs you back into his lap. Giving you a reassuring squeeze, praying to whatever there was out there for you to give him a moment to collect his thoughts.

It really isn't a big deal to him, not at all. He'd taken people's virginity before - former partners he doesn't even remember the names of - but you. Getting to be your first? It felt like the world had both blessed and cursed him at the same time. You didn't have a good frame of reference, which was great. He'd be the best partner you've had. Yet... he'd also be the only partner you've had, and that was a lot of pressure to put on a guy like him.

"Lighter?" You squeak out, face all nervous and cute in a way that just drives him wild.

A huff leaves him before he can think better of it, causing you to frown a little. His arms wrap around your middle, tugging you closer to him, "That's all? Here you had me thinking you weren't attracted to me all of a sudden."

The response takes you off guard, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Had you genuinely thought that would be a turn-off for him? What do you take him for, some prude? "I- I mean, you know... I don't have any experience, and I figured since... since you had it would just-"

He hushes you, trying his best not to laugh at how ridiculous the thought is. Most guys would leap to be in his shoes, it was a loser's wet dream to take some innocent angel like you and ruin you. Not Lighter, though. Despite how many times he'd fucked his hand thinking about your pretty little body, he would make sure your first time was perfect. He really needed it to be perfect.

"I don't care about that, baby." There's a teasing lilt in his tone that sends shockwaves down your spine, "I just want you to be happy."

It was your turn to be dumbfounded, staring at him like he had spoken forbidden texts in tongues you didn't understand. He tilts your head with the hand still holding your chin, and it's incredibly sexy the way his sunglasses dip a little so you can see the genuineness in his eyes.

"Would it make you happy if I took your virginity?" You give a slow, dumb nod, and he presses closer, "Do you wanna try tonight?"

Lighter watches with thinly veiled amusement as the pieces slip into place for you, face so warm he could feel it at this distance. You seem to have stalled a bit, so he gives you an award-winning smile and taps your lips to remind you to use them.

"Yes. Please." You blurt out, and it's so incredibly unsexy and awkward, but he still bites his lip like you were sex incarnate.

He gives you all but three seconds to admire the (so, so incredibly hot) look on his face before he's picking you up with no effort, hands wrapped under the swell of your ass like they were made to be there. You cling to his shoulders like a lifeline, and his cock strains in his stupidly tight jeans as he imagines you doing so without the jacket between your skin.

"Where are we going?" You ask, voice uneasy.

He smirks at you, "You didn't seriously think I was gonna let your first time be on some dingy outdoor couch, did you?"

You're silent all the way to his quarters after that, warm face buried into the crook of his shoulder. He can feel how nervous you are in the shaky breaths you let puff out onto his neck. He gives your butt a reassuring pat, which only makes you burrow yourself further into his neck.

He doesn't get to see your face again until he carefully lies you on his bed, and he's glad for it too. The nervous shimmer in your eyes would've been enough for him to bend you over any surface in a heartbeat. Your teeth nibble awkwardly on your swollen bottom lip, and he resists the urge to take it in between his own, instead busying his hands with shrugging off his jacket so he doesn't do exactly that.

You look near terrified when he climbs on top of you, so leans down to kiss your forehead, and in the gentlest voice he can muster whispers, "We'll go slow, but we gotta take our clothes off if we wanna do anything, m'kay?"

You give him a slow nod, slowly drifting your eyes down to his tight-fitting t-shirt. Once you seem to calm a little, he leans down and starts right where you left off. Capturing your lips in a soft kiss, slowly easing back into the passion from earlier. His hips press into yours, but they remain still against your heat. He would let you decide when you were ready for that again.

His hands eagerly slid around your thighs, squeezing the fat between his fingers and sighing as they sank against his touch. Always so malleable, it was addictive, but he couldn't get ahead of himself. This was all about you, after all.

Slowly, he inched his digits up to the edge of your shirt, pooling the fabric between them. You give a little jolt, pressing against his crotch a little harder than he expected drawing a hiss from between his teeth. He rubs his nose against yours, "Can we get rid of your shirt?"

Another slow, unsure nod, and he's easing you up just enough that he can tug the offending fabric up and out of the way. (No bra, thank god, he sucks at removing them.) The sight it reveals better than Lighter could've begun to imagine. Your chest rises and falls with your breath, mesmerizing him. You give him an unsure smile, nodding your head along with it, and he thinks he might genuinely die tonight.

He does not suddenly go into cardiac arrest, so instead his hands glide over your stomach, and it's everything he dreamed of and more. The skin is like heaven beneath his calloused fingertips, and the light whimpers and whines you give him are honey in his ears. You shift with every touch, jerking away and then easing into his touch. Unsure, but oh so willing and wanting.

He maps out each inch of your skin like he might lose his way exploring it, tracing all the way to the final destination of your chest. Your nipples are hard already in combination with his touching and the cold air around you. He gives you one last look, one last chance to tell him no, and then he runs his thumb over the tops of them.

The sound you make is delicious, something between a moan and a strangled choking noise -- almost confused at the pleasure you are feeling. He rolls them in his fingers a few times, watching your face intently as he does so. Your confused moans melt into sighs of contentment, so he decides to try his luck with his mouth. With your head rolled back, he ensures you can feel his breath before he presses his tongue to your skin.

You shoot up, gasping in surprise, but you don't make any move to push him away. No, instead you rake your fingers through his hair, pushing his shaggy bangs back so you can really look at him. Those emerald eyes lock with yours, making a show of slowly kissing his way back up to your chest. Along the contours of your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, and finally right down to your perky bud.

Lighter takes a moment to really appreciate just how nice it looks up close, rather than through the fabric of your tank tops. Just the perfect size for sucking on, he thinks right before he engulfs the needy thing in his mouth. You throw your head back, chest hefting with your cry of "Fuck, Lighter."

He hums, only making it so much worse for you, the vibrations sending a shock through your body that makes you twist your hips just right. He takes his sweet time with your breasts, alternating between the two until you're a messy puddle below him. He hadn't even gotten past the waistband of your pants yet, and you were already so far gone. It was an ego booster, to say the least.

His free hand draws its way down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your pants. They dance their way along your abdomen, just itching to be let in, but not willing to disrespect your boundaries. Lucky for him, they don't have to wait long, and your own join him and carefully aid him in their removal.

It's then that he finally gives your chest a break, pulling back to tug your pants down your legs. Giving himself the time to finally admire you. He'd left... more than a few purple marks along your chest, all of which he thinks look incredibly nice in the light of the moon. His eyes trace their way down your stomach, just like his hands had, and land on the underwear you still had on.

They weren't particularly cutesy or sexy, but on you, it was the hottest thing he'd seen in years. They had a sizable wet spot in the middle, right where he wanted- no, needed to be. The only thing standing between him and tasting you was that thin piece of fabric.

A tug at the hem of his shirt draws him out of his daze, meeting eyes with your cute, nervous ones. It takes him a second to realize you wanted his shirt off, but once he gets the message, he wastes no time in shrugging it to the ground. Following it with his pants, leaving him in his boxers.

Your eyes trace their way along his figure, over his shoulders, across his stomach, and settle shyly on the outline of his dick. It only occurs to him then that you might find him just as attractive as he finds you. With eyes blown wide and distracted as you drink him all in, it's hard to avoid how much you're admiring the view right now.

He has the decency to act embarrassed, despite how he was practically drooling all over you just a few moments ago. He shivers when you reach up and trace your fingers over a scar, breath catching in his throat. "They're so pretty," you mutter, completely unaware that you had said that out loud. It could honestly make him cry. The way you look at him like he's some kind of art piece. So much love and admiration in your eyes. He can't handle it for long, even though you seem to be content just admiring his scars.

He grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers together as he presses you back into the mattress. You let out a huff as he pressed his forehead to yours, pouting now that he had interrupted your show. He gives you a few apologetic kisses, smiling at your pouting.

"Are you sure you wanna keep going, we can stop now if you want," he whispers, soft and gentle.

You nod, confident this time, "I'm ready. I wanna do this with you, Lighter. Not anyone else."

That makes his heart swell, sending the feeling right down to his dick, throbbing and reminding him he needs to prepare you. He wasn't usually one to brag, but he knew he was big, and it would be a tough take for your first time. If he wanted you to enjoy it, he'd have to take care to loosen you up first.

"Okay," he hums, reaching over to grab the lube and condoms from his nightstand, setting them nearby for when he needs it, "I'm gonna have to loosen you up first, and it's gonna hurt. You sure you can take it?"

He feels your muscles contract as he trails gentle, feather-light pecks along the edge of your underwear. "You'll take care of me, just like you always do..." Ah, you were gonna be the death of him tonight, he just knows it.

He hooks his fingers over the sides of your underwear, carefully tugging them down your legs like unwrapping a present he didn't want to ruin. What a gift he received as he threw the useless fabric to the floor, your pretty little cunt already drooling for him.

"God..." He mutters out, enchanted at the very sight. He adjusts his position one last time, making sure he is perfectly positioned in front of your gorgeous pussy. The view is something straight out of a porno, Lighter's messy hair shadowing his eyes as they stare into your very being, big hands gripping at your thighs -- like he was readying himself to consume you whole.

"You ready, baby?" He asks one last time, though it's painfully hard to do so now that he was literally right where he wanted to be, "Cause if you're not you better say so now, I don't think I could stop myself once I start, angel."

You give him the slowest nod known to man, followed by a timid little 'yes' and he's gone. His strong arms wrap under and rest atop your thighs, carefully pulling your folds apart to reveal the shining pearl he'd been dreaming of. Involuntarily he huffs out a hot breath, causing you to squirm a little in his grasp, and then he leans down and kisses your clit.

You jolt at the new sensation, another awkward breathy moan leaving your lips. He pulls back to give you a second, watching your expressions and committing them all to mind, and then he licks his lips and leans down for another wet kiss against your neglected bud. Then another, and another, and another, and at some point his tongue joins the barrage but you have no idea when. Too caught up in how good he's making you feel. So much better than your own fingers.

Lighter is in heaven, completely surrounded by nothing but you. Your little sighs, your skin, your sweet smell, and of course your juices dripping down his chin. You tasted so amazing, better than all the candies he ate. He swallowed you like a man starved, arguably more desperate for your pleasure than you were. Your little whines of his name only fueled him to suck on the little bud like a sweet treat, humming at the taste.

He wondered how many more moans he could get out of you if he added a finger... He had to stretch you out anyway, seems like now was better a time than any. One hand unwound itself from under your leg, snaking along the sheets right up under your bum.

Without taking his eyes or mouth off you he gently traces around your hole with his middle and index. Your hips grind up into his mouth, and he feels the way you clench against his fingertips. A smile grows on his face, god you were adorable, weren't you? He presses the tip of his finger into your heat, and you squeeze around it sucking him in like nothing.

"Shit..." He groans against you, the grumble going right through your nerves drawing a delicious moan out of you. He slowly pumps his finger at the same pace as his tongue, when it rolls across your clit, the finger presses up into you again. The white, hot pleasure that curls up your spine and through your body makes you arch your back. If he kept it up like this, you would cum faster than you ever had before.

Unfortunately, he pulls back and you whine like a needy child. He presses his thumb to your clit instead of his mouth as compensation, rolling in sweet little circles. Not nearly as pleasurable, but still enough to make your head spin, especially when you watch him press his cheek to your thigh to watch his own ministrations.

He is mesmerized by the way your hips jerk into his touch, his finger disappearing and reappearing over and over awfully stimulating for his relatively blank mind. His eyes lazily roll up to yours, smirking when he sees you watching him with lidded ones. "You like it, baby?"

You mutter an incoherent sound of approval, head falling back to the pillows, but that doesn't do it for him. He grabs your face with his free hand, focusing your expression on him yet again. As he does so, he eases a second finger in and you let out the most sinful moan of his name he's ever heard. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh, encouraging you to keep making those pretty noises.

He keeps on watching you, eyes having trouble focusing on both your face and your messy cunt. They're both such a good show, how could he be expected to pick which one was better. All the while he was sucking marks into your inner thigh, adding to the growing coil below your naval.

It was all too much for your poor little untouched body. His eyes watching you so carefully, the sting of his teeth on your thighs, his calloused thumb rubbing delightfully perfect circles against your swollen clit. You couldn't even think about anything other than how nice his fingers felt with circular motions right against that spot that your fingers could never reach.

"Lighter..." Your voice is so much more airy than you thought it would be, "I'm-"

He hums, understanding you without you needing to say anything at all. He removes himself from your thigh, climbing over to press his forehead against yours without stopping his movements. He wanted to see the face you made when you cum clearly. Wanted to have it etched into every corner of his brain so he could never dream of forgetting it.

"Go on then, I've got you," He encourages, and that's all it takes for the tight ball in your stomach to burst, and the flood of pleasure to take its place. You spasm around his fingers, juices coating them and dripping down his wrist. It's a beautiful thing to Lighter, watching the way your face scrunches up and then melts into pure pleasure. That was a face he could never forget, not in a million lifetimes.

He keeps his fingers moving at a slow and steady pace, easing you back down from your high. Only pull them out when you stop clenching around them, sucking your essence clean from them with a groan of satisfaction. "Delicious," He whispers, easing you back into the sheets, limbs soft and limp with the pleasant aftershocks of your orgasm.

Lighter is still there above you, watching with all the admiration in the world as your gaze refocuses on him. It's an infectious look that you subconsciously mirror, cradling his face in the palm of your hand.

"Feel good?" He asks, playing with a loose strand of your hair.

You nod, pressing a kiss to his nose, "Wonderful, actually. I don't know what I was so scared of."

He chuckles deep and warmly from the back of his throat, "I'm glad."

He presses gentle kisses across your cheek, nosing along your jaw and following with soft presses into the sensitive skin. You scratch his scalp appreciatively, more than happy to accept the affections.

"You wanna call it there?" He murmurs against your throat, hot breath leaving goosebumps in its wake, "Don't wanna push you too far."

You shake your head, frowning down at him, "No, no. I wanna keep going. It's not fair of me to leave you like... that." You gesture to his still rock-hard dick pressed against your thigh.

He comes back up to look at you, caressing your face with utmost care, "Don't worry about me, I can live without getting off."

"I know," you giggle, and it's such a sweet sound to him, "I want to, Lighter. I want you. Please indulge me just a little longer?"

He really can't argue with that, not with how you're smiling at him. "Alright," He sits up, grabs the condoms, and rips the box open with practiced ease, "but it's not gonna feel good to start."

"I know," You answer, sitting up to watch him slide his boxers down. His cock springs out, tip an angry red and bleeding precum down the shaft. It was an incredibly hot sight to see him slide the condom over himself, his muscles flexing from the much-needed attention. "I definitely know."

He smirks, settling between your legs again as he picks up the lube this time. "Enjoying the view?"

"Too much," you respond, enraptured as he tugs along his member a few times, shuddering at the sensation.

He takes the time to adjust you beneath him, tugging your hips up in an angled position. The manhandling is surprisingly hot, and your heart skips a beat when he grabs at your thigh more roughly than you're used to.

"I hope I can keep you satisfied," he muses, lining himself up with your pussy.

He runs the tip against your clit a few times, spreading a mixture of lube and your cum around, hissing to himself at the feeling. He wasn't even inside and he was already needing more of you, god what did you do to him?

He presses the tip against your weeping hole, hot and desperate against him. It fluttered in anticipation, feeling far too empty knowing what his fingers felt like. It had you praying to know what his cock felt like fully pressed inside. Surely it would fill you up even better.

His emerald green eyes come down to stare into yours, an intensity you've only ever seen from him in fights burning behind them. "Ready?"

You take a deep breath and then nod as assuredly as you can. You had no idea what you were getting into, but as the tip slowly sunk into you, you felt lightheaded. The sting was deep, drawing a hiss of pain out of you, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He wasn't lying when he said it would hurt, but this was way worse than you expected.

He leans down, locking his fingers with yours and pressing loving kisses along your cheeks. His hair tickles your skin and it does wonders in distracting you from the burn of his stretching you. That was just the tip. If you couldn't handle that, how could you take the rest of him?

Lighter doesn't let you worry about it, rubbing his thumbs into your hips. Muttering sweet nothings into your sweaty skin, worshipping you like a god. Like you were his whole world. In his pleasure-fueled haze, that was more truth than it was fiction.

For every stinging inch, Lighter muttered praises and peppered a thousand more kisses across your burning skin. This was the most full you'd ever felt, and the more he pushed inside the more you wanted. He stuffed himself in to the hilt, stopping fully when his hips were pressed flush against yours. You shuddered at the sensation of his tip kissing your cervix. When he said he was big he meant it, and it was everything you wanted and more.

His rough hands slide gently along your sides, coaxing you to just look at him. Your glazed eyes slide over to his face, and you smile dumbly at his expression. His face is red, brows furrowed in concentrated effort and eyes clouded in lust. "You okay? Still hurt?"

You shake your head, chest rising and falling with more effort than you were used to. "It feels good. I like it."

He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Fuck, he just can't stand it. You were so tight and warm, sucking him in like he was your last meal. He could feel your pussy clench around him suddenly, and he had to bury his face into your neck to stop himself from moaning out loud.

Who could've imagined a few years without sex would make him so weak. Maybe it was actually just you that made him like this. He couldn't possibly imagine any pussy better than yours, it felt like it was molded perfectly just for him. The thought occurs to him, like a stroke of genius, that this was his pussy and it was molded to him. Now that you let him fuck you once, he could do it again and again and again whenever either of you liked.

He liked that idea a lot more than he probably should, his cock twitching a little at the prospect. You squeeze back and he does moan this time, deep and throaty into your neck. It's quite the sound from such a big guy, making your skin tingle excitedly. You had been the reason for it, after all, it was flattering.

"Lighter?" You say, startling him. He looks up at you from his spot against your shoulder, "Can you move? I'm too full with you just sitting there."

He blinks at you, taking in your words carefully and digesting them. Yeah, you were gonna kill him tonight. You had no fucking clue what you were doing to him.

"Whatever you want," He mumbles out, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, before slowly pulling out.

You groan out in tandem, the drag of his cock and a squeeze of your walls more pleasurable than you'd imagined. Then he pushes back in at the same pace and you shudder in his arms. He keeps the pace slow and easy, still able to remember that he wanted to be gentle despite how much he wished to be anything but. First time, he echoed in his head, take it easy Lighter.

Each drag of his cock against your plush warm insides has you gasping out, desperate for more and more. He watches you with an intensity to rival his excitement during a fight, taking in each detail with careful consideration. The way your brows scrunch up when he brushes that gummy spot with his tip, and how your teeth tug on your lips, and the way your eyelashes flutter when his hips lay flush into yours.

Lighter never considered himself an artist, but damn if you weren't his greatest masterpiece like this. You open your eyes and finally look at him, and the intensity in his gaze has you shying away into your palms. He can't have that, he wanted to look, so he grabbed your wrists and set them on his shoulders. They curl into the skin, crescent-shaped marks sure to form in the morning.

You still try to evade his gaze, so he follows with his own face, leaning forward. "Don't hide," he coos, his hands moving your hips with his upper body so he's fully leaning over you now, the new position allowing him to not only look at you but hit much deeper than before. "Lemme see yer pretty face."

A wanton moan is ripped from your throat as he picks up his pace, and you finally look at him when he grabs at your chin. His hair is stuck to his sweaty forehead, breathing heavily as he keeps up the new speed he's set. The wild look in his eyes is enough to make you clench and get to watch in real-time the effect it has on him. Swallowing hard as his eyebrows come together in pleasured surprise.

You were making it so, so hard on him, really you were. Each reaction you had made it so much more difficult to keep himself together. When you clench around him again he lets out a sound between a sigh and a squeak. Your fingers are running along the nape of his neck and through his hair, and it's nearly got him choking on air.

You're no better, hardly even coherent as his hips continue pistoning in and out of you at such consistent pacing. The wet slapping of skin on skin is the only thing you can focus on, everything else is too much for your muddled brain to understand.

The hand that isn't keeping your eyes on him comes down to massage your clit again, fingers splayed across your abdomen to feel himself through your skin while his thumb takes care of you. He was close, and he could tell you were too. Your moans getting more and more desperate, and the squeezing you gave him more and more desperate to keep him moving.

He didn't have it in himself to say anything coherent, so instead he settled on kissing you. Sloppy and uncoordinated and more teeth than anything else, but he still kissed you. Swallowing up every moan like a man starved.

His pace grows sloppy as he chases your highs, both of you moaning unabashedly loudly. He would hear from Lucy in the morning, he was sure of it, but that didn't matter too much to him now. Not when he felt you come undone around him. Your whole body tensed, desperate little cunt squeezing him in a vice grip and moans so delicious that he couldn't help but follow your lead.

He gives one last harsh thrust, and then he unloads into the condom. He thinks for a moment that he wishes it wasn't there but focuses instead on sucking at the juncture of your neck. You writhe under him, fingers raking down his back harsh enough to leave red lines in his skin.

It was better than he had expected it to feel, that was for certain. Even as he calmed down and came back to reality, there were little sparks of pleasure ringing through his body. He kissed his way over the marks he'd left on your body, waiting patiently for you to calm down before he pulled out.

Both of you let out sounds of complaint at the loss, but he knew that he couldn't stay inside you forever (no matter how nice that sounded). He smiled warmly down at you, caressing your face with such gentleness it could make you cry. "You alright...?"

You nod, brushing the hair out of his face so you can look at him properly, "This is probably the best I've ever felt in my whole life."

That gets him to laugh, pressing his forehead against yours, "I'm glad I could be of service."

"Did you-" You start, but he doesn't let you finish before he responds.

"Yes. I did enjoy myself, very much, baby." He hums, washing away any insecurities you could've had with ease.

He eases you up into a sitting position with him, holding you there until he is sure you will stay like that by yourself. Then, he stands and digs around his dresser for a towel to wipe you down with. You take the time to admire how nice his ass is out of those skinny jeans, humming to yourself at the sight.

When he rejoins you on the bed, you smirk at him, "Your ass is nice."

"Yeah," he huffs out a laugh, "Yours ain't all that bad either."

You let him do what he needs to, wiping you of sweat and any fluids that might become uncomfortable after a while. Then he does the same for himself, and the show is rather nice. When he finishes cleaning the both of you up, he crawls into bed and pulls you to his chest.

You take your chance to trace over the scars again, admiring just how pretty his marred skin is. He doesn't say a word, and you have the understanding not to make verbal comments now. The warmth of his chest combined with the pleasant ache in your limbs was enough to lull you to sleep.

The last thing you hear is Lighter mumble a quiet, "I love you." Though you don't respond, you know he knows you feel the same way.

[lilacgaby]

prohero!bakugo but you, his wife, were kidnapped.

you sat in a dark room, the dripping of water the only sound you heard. your eyes were blindfolded, your hands restrained behind your back as you were bound to a pipe on the floor. the smell of blood filled your nostrils and you resisted the urge to gag.

"she's awake." a strange, gnarly voice you never heard before said, before ripping the blindfold of your eyes, a different man beside him shining a flashlight directly into your face.

you didn't wanna know what you saw in the corner of your eye, unmoving and surrounded by a puddle. but you were broken out of your thoughts by a voice:

"so, girlie, wanna tell us what your husbands weakness is? he put a bunch of our gang in prison some while ago, so we want him dead." a guy with a scar across his face questioned.

as you stayed silent, he pulled your hair, yanking your head forwards to look at him. "answer me, and we won't have to get ugly."

you glared at him, your eyebrows scrunching in annoyance, "no way, eat shit and die." at your words, the man slammed your head against the wall brutally, leaving a dent in the wall, and your head bloodied.

"looks like you'll be trouble huh? i'll ask you again, what's your husbands weakness?"

as you again refused to answer, the other man slapped you across the face. "maybe his next wife will learn to listen. but we'll keep you alive for a bit longer, maybe you'll have a change of heart."

they stood back, admiring their work on you. your nose was broken now, the smell of your own blood apparent to you now as it dripped over your face. your head was pounding as you struggled to stay awake.

"katsuki.." you muttered wearily under your breath, making the two men laugh at you. as you fought off tears off pain.. or was it embarrassment? you didn't know as the two feelings started to blur together.

you knew you just had to hold on. just for a second longer, he'd come for you. the tears dried up but her will didn't, even as the hours passed with no sign of katsuki.

"did your little husband forget you girl? guess you weren't as precious as we thought." the men laughed.

"y-you're wrong. he's coming, and you'll regret this." you mustered, making the men smirk. "oh yeah?"

"fuck yeah." a voice echoed through the compound, accompanied by the sound of a concentrated explosion blasting through the walls.

one of the men, shook up by his sudden appearance, and look of pure unadulterated anger, tried to run off. the other grabbed you, trying to use you as a shield for his next explosion, but katsuki just used it as an opening for a direct hit, sending him flying into the other man, rendering them both useless.

katsuki then ran over to you, untying you from your confines, and looked over you, gently grabbing your face in his hands. "shit, babe.. 'm sorry."

"you came.. i knew you would."

he took you into his arms, getting you back to safety. after this, he'd never want to let you out of his sights again, he just felt so worried, so anxious for what could happen.

but as you two held eachother, the thoughts and fears were all calmed by the feeling of your bodies in tandem.

[onmyyan]

hi again i'm the Anon who asked if you take commisions only or requests as well. I love your writing style<3

Soo could you write about Batmom reader, where reader took care of bruce's children as her own. But then bruce gets a mistress, reader still stays becuz of the kids but when everyone started to become cold to her and insult her ' X (mistress) is better mom then you ever were' she leaves gonthem. Then everyone realises she (mistress) was just after their money. They go to batmom's room to apologize only to find it empty. They try to find her everywhere but couldn't. And finally when they do, reader rejects them since she was having the time of her life without responsibilty but gets kiddnapped by the batfam?

Honestly i wanted to commision but i'm flat broke and i'm too busy studying to work and on top of that i don't have my own phone (i use my dad's old laptop) soo yeah... I hope you consider this.

A/N: Loooove this request thank you for sending it in <3 fem reader yandere themes lmk if you want a part two

The (L/n)'s were a wealthy and prominent family in Gotham, right up there with the Wayne's when it came to power over the city, the two families were in business together which is why when Bruce Wayne personal attorney came to you with a marriage proposal, you weren't surprised.

A marriage of convenience. You thought you knew what this would entitle, you knew this wasn't out of love, that this was required of you, it had nothing to do with what you actually wanted, but you were dutiful and signed, inking your name on the paper felt like a deal with the devil.

Bruce hadn't bothered to officially meet you until the day of the wedding, it was beautiful and well done but lacking any form of love of affection, CEOs and other rich folk you didn't recognize filled the pews, the ring felt cold when he slipped it on, his vows perfectly rehearsed, and not an ounce of warmth in his eyes, you knew that night you should have annulled the marriage, but something made you hold on, something your mother had said to you as the makeup artist turned you into the visage of a bride.

"You'll learn to love each other, your father and I did after all." And she wasn't lying, your parents married for convenience as well but had grown to love one another, so maybe you could do the same?

A year after the nuptials Dick Grayson is thrust into your life. Haley's circus was famous in Gotham for its incredible death defying shows, but on this night death would walk the stage, taking with them Dick Grayson's parents in a horrible display, You and Bruce had consoled the boy for only a moment before Bruce was talking to the officers, he'd decided Dick was coming home with you, of course without asking your opinion, but it didn't matter, you felt such pity and grief for the boy, it made perfect sense to you, he was shut down for the first few months, he called you by your name and you had no problem with it, making it clear you never wanted to try and replace his mother, the ice between you two melted one day, one kind word at a time, he couldn't help but confide in you about school or his friends, because you were more emotionally there than Bruce was.

Like the night you caught him sneaking out, a packed bag in hand and the keys to one of Bruce's many cars in his hand. Instead of yelling for Bruce or Alfred you simply smiled at him, "you should take the audi, it's the safest car here."

"..You're not going to try and stop me?"

You shake your head no, still offering that kind smile.

"You know yourself best Dick, if you're unhappy here I won't stop you from finding your peace." He took a moment before tossing you the keys and reluctantly making his way back inside.

You find out about Batman because of Dick. He'd come home with some nasty bruises and it wouldn't take long to put two and two together. Them both being missing at the same time, Dick started to pull away from you, one night, after hours of trying to get to sleep in a bed much to big for one body, your legs decided a walk was necessary, the halls were dark and quiet, giving the manor an eerie air, quietly you walked the long hallways intending on stopping by the library, as you turned the corner you seen Dick in a hidden elevator, the doors just slamming shut as your eyes tried to register what was there. Seconds after the doors close a wall appears, as if nothing was ever there. It's not long after that you see a brief news clip of the caped crusader and his new sidekick, because the longer you stared at the screen, the more familiar they began to look, that dead tight lipped scowl on Batman's face, it was one you'd had the pleasure of looking at for the past few years.

That night you confronted Bruce, he seemed surprised you'd figured it out, but he didn't deny it. Simply saying, "It's late (Y/n), get some sleep."

You nearly divorced him then and there for endangering a child the way he was, but after a moment of thought, you realized Dick would need a real parent around so you stayed, making Bruce swear to be careful.

Jason comes next and he takes to you a lot faster than Dick. He craved the warmth you offered, you two had inside jokes and a closer relationship than him and Bruce, but that all changes the day he dies. You're broken, a ghost haunting the manor with your presence, and Bruce is no comfort throwing himself into the Batman role, you begin to hate him a little with this particular betrayal.

Tim was another hard egg to crack but you were desperate after Jason's death, so you took his verbal lashings with a smile, were always there to offer a helping hand with any of his projects despite the help never being accepted. Tims wound from losing his father is too raw, he takes a lot of his anger out on you. And you weathered the storm with a soft, warm smile.

Damian hated you, from the moment he arrives, which is bitter enough as is because it meant Bruce was unfaithful, he's spitting out insults and comparing you to his 'perfect' mother.

Things weren't great in your life, but one day they started getting noticably worse. Dick no longer responded to your check in texts, Jason (now reanimated which was a heart attack in and of itself) saw you as the enemy, you didn't leave Bruce after what happened to him, so in his eyes you betrayed him, Tim ignored your existence as best as he could, and Damian? He'd started staring at you with this smug look on his face, like he knew something you didn't.

Bruce had all but ran from you, he didn't sleep in your shared room anymore, he barely spoke to you at breakfast, if it wasn't for the cameras he wouldn't touch you.

And it's all because of a woman named Rachel.

Apparently Bruce had introduced this woman to the family, bringing her around when you weren't, slowly replacing you, it was no wonder they started to pull back.

Alfred is the only reason you find out, having enough of the blatant disrespect, he calls you to come home early one day saying it's a dire matter. Of course you comply, and walk in on a discomforting sight. The whole family was gathered at the dining room table, plus a woman you'd never seen before, she sat close to Bruce, toying with his hand intimately. Her green eyes lock with yours and the smile she gives you forms a pit in your stomach.

There's silence before Bruce stands up, he walks over calmly, "Can we take this in the other room." But it wasn't phrased as a question.

"No" you licked your lips, a nervous habit from your youth. Bruce seemed taken back by your sudden backbone. He nods silently.

"I want her gone Bruce. I am your wife. You will show me that semblance of respect."

"I- of course." You don't wait for the words to settle instead, you calmly walk to your room, face unreadable.

Locking the door behind you, your body slides against the frame, a silent sob wracks your frame, your hands covering your mouth, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing your cries.

The next morning you wake up to breakfast in bed, a generic yet elegant spread of food lay on a tray in the empty spot Bruce used to stay. The man himself sitting in the chair beside the bed, staring at you with that practiced smile he used to appease people.

"Good morning."

"What's this?" You sat up straight, sleep evaporating from your form as you took in the threat before you.

"An apology. I never meant for yesterday to happen."

"What a comfort that is." Your piercing (e/c) eyes stare at him blankly, unreadable. "How long."

"A year." You scoff pushing the breakfast away from you like it was poisonous. "But its not what you think, Rachel is a childhood friend, a year ago our relationship, evolved into what it is now, but I was never intending to go behind your back."

"Ah of course, your intentions were pure." The words dripped venom, grabbing your robe you quickly dress before standing and walking to the door, "Thank you for the wonderful talk Bruce, really your people skills are top notch." Your hands gesture to the door. He leaves without a word.

The rest of the day is as usual, Bruce avoids you like the plague, the rest of the family acted as if you weren't there. Which made leaving all too easy.

Your lawyers had the divorce papers ready and hour after you called them, signing them felt like the first act of self love you'd done in years. Slipping them into Bruce's study you took the time to analyze the room you never entered.

It matched Bruce that's for sure, pictures of every single person in the family. All except for you.

Walking out the door, wrapped in your ankle length black faux fur coat, the garment whipped in the wind, the designer sunglasses on your face hid your eyes from the world, hair in a slicked back bun, your heels echoed against the pavement, a sleek black car was waiting for you, you look back at the house that had caused you so much misery then got in the back of the car, never looking back.

Life goes on for about a week, your absence goes unnoticed, that is before Rachel is trying and failing to blackmail Bruce out of a billion dollars, she'd collected evidence he was cheating on you with her and presented it to Bruce with a grin, it was only as he went through the pictures of himself and Rachel, did he notice the yellow envelope with his name written on the front.

Hey puts the heartbreaking matter of Rachel's betrayal on the back burner, Bruce opened the envelope and felt his heart completely stop at the word divorce written in bold lettering across the top, your signature was already there, waiting for his to join it.

Ignoring Rachel completely now he turns in his chair, turning the paper over and over as if it would magically change. But it remained the same. Alfred knocking on the door of his study broke him from his trance. "Master Wayne, miss Rachel." He says the latter's name with no warmth. "Escort Rachel to her car Alfred."

"Bruce have you heard a word I've said? I'm serious I'll go to Gotham daily right now if you don't -"

"Now Alfred."

That was all it took for the screaming woman to be firmly escorted off the premises. Bruce all but ran to your room, he didn't bother knocking, and despite knowing in his heart you were already gone, he couldn't help but check anyway.

Your room was empty and cold, he couldn't believe the date he'd read on the divorce papers, it was dated a week ago, meaning you'd been gone for a week and he hadn't noticed. No one had.

That is until Bruce remembers there's someone in the house nothing gets by.

"How long have you known she was gone Alfred?" He asks leaning on his knuckles the divorce papers stared back at him taunting him. "Since the moment she left." The older man replied simply his hands behind his back. "Why didn't you tell me immediately?" Bruce felt himself tense, "Because you've hurt that woman enough Bruce. She deserves at least this." He gestures to the daunting divorce paperwork before turning to leave Bruce with his thoughts.

The news of Rachel's betrayal shook the manor each member feeling violated by their trust being broken. But it was nothing compared to their reaction once they finally realized you were gone.

"That was rough." Jason says after watching Rachel being dragged out of the manor, he blew air out of his cheeks arms crossed over his chest, he looked towards the hallway that lead to your room, you had to have heard that he thought to himself.

Dick sighs through his nose, "Someone should check on (y/n), Rachel was screaming so loud she definitely heard that." No one volunteers so Dick rolls his eyes and heads towards your room.

He lifts his hands to knock but noticed the door was open, pushing it further he's met with a baren room, his brow furrowed in confusion before he makes his way to Bruce's study. "Hey B, have you seen (y/n)? Her room is like weirdly empty."

Dick found his Father where Alfred left him, leaning over the divorce papers silently a storm in his eyes.

As he steps closer and reads the paperwork Bruce was staring so intently at, his heart stopped.

"Holy shit- are those real?"

"Yes." Bruce finally spoke his voice horse. There was a moment of silence before Dick left the room practically running down the stairs to alert the others.

"(Y/n) left Bruce." He said still processing the information, "No fuckin' way." Jason says pushing himself off the counter he leaned on. "Her room is empty and he has the papers, she's gone."

Each member of the family had different reactions to this information.

Dick tries calling you only to be met with a disconnected number, his heart hammering in his chest, he wasn't as close to you as when he was younger sure, but you were a constant in his life, always had been, a pillar of support, and suddenly you weren't. It felt like the floor had gotten pulled out from under him.

Jason curses under his breath, his mind working a mile a minute, he had barely spoken to you since his Resurrection, something he deeply regretted as the information of your leaving sinks in like a brick thrown into a river.

Tim, ever calculating is trying to figure out where you went, you were a figurehead in his life, someone that was literally never not there, sure he wasn't close to you in the slightest but that doesn't mean he wants anything to happen to you, someone as quiet and soft as you on your own in Gotham? It didn't sit well with him. Not one bit.

Damian didn't know what he was feeling at the news, he supposed he should feel nothing, after all you were nothing to him, but there was this nagging feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place. And he hated it. How dare you leave and upset his fragile ecosystem?

Meanwhile in the Bahamas, far from Gotham and the neglectful family you'd left behind, you sat lounging on a private beach, a knitted hammock cradles your body, a designer baby pink bikini covers you, a matching sunhat protects your face from the hot sun, you can't wipe the smile from your face, humming a tune from your childhood you barely flinch when someone takes the seat besides your hammock.

"Do I want to know how you found me?" You ask, eyes still closed as you bask in the warmth. You knew only one person had the sources to find you on your own island, and despite how much you resent the man, even his presence can't ruin your shine in this moment.

"You're my wife (Y/n), I'll always know where you are." Bruce speaks softly as if trying not to startle you. "Former wife." You correct cracking an eye open, a small smirk curling on your lips.

"Not until I sign those papers- which I never will."

"huh, I thought you'd be thrilled." You muse to yourself before folding your tanning mirror and setting it aside, you take off your Louis Vuitton sunglasses, blinking your pretty (e/c) eyes up at him, "Figured you and your little Twinkie would have tied the knot by now." You laugh softly, the sound, unfamiliar to Bruce, sent warm shivers down his spine, it causes his lips to quirk up in a small grin.

"She's gone."

"Well, I don't care."

There's a beat of silence before he's offering you his hand. "Will you walk with me? I know I don't deserve it."

You sigh before getting up, ignoring his hand, you nod your head reluctantly, "Well? Hurry up I've got dinner at six."

His smile remains as he begins leading you along the shoreline. It's relatively quiet between you two as you walk side by side, a peace between you both you hadn't ever felt. "The manor isn't the same without you." He breaks the silence, "I sincerely doubt that." You laugh at the very notion. "It's true- it's colder, quieter, I want you to come home."

"That was never my home, you made that abundantly clear."

He winces as if your words cut him, "I know I haven't been a good man to you, I know I've failed you time and time again but I..I looked at those divorce papers and my heart stopped." He admits running a hand through his hair.

"You can't leave me."

"I can't?." You scoff, your movement halting, "I'm a grown woman- I'm taking responsibility for my own happiness, you can't stop me."

"I wasn't asking." He says softly, his hands in his pockets, he had this fond look on his face, like he was staring at you for the first time, in a whole new light. "You can't make me." You say, brows furrowed, "You belong back home, you're supposed to be with me, till death do us part, remember?" He steps forward making you step back, your eyes wide, hands shaking, you back into a wide chest, spinning to face Dick, who's grinning at you, he's in his Nightwing costume, he gives you a small wave of his hand, you scrunch your face in confusion, "What the hell-" your thought is cut off by a small pinch in your neck, the needle in Bruce's hand is empty in seconds, he's cradling your stumbling form, holding you tightly, "Don't worry - I'll fix this."

Your sleeping body is gently carried to the batplane, Bruce holding you close to his chest as Dick pilots the plane, he whispers promises into your hair, rocking you against him as he swears on his life to make things right, weather you liked it or not.