#also like reader doesn’t ever wish him happy birthday in this at all

[cecilxa]

new year lovers

summary: zhongli would never tire from spending his days with you.

contents: fluff, established relationship, gn!reader, modern au, dates galore (by that i mean 2 maybe 3)

cw: food

recommend listening to: lovers rock by tv girl

a/n: last instalment in my winter special!

Zhongli doesn’t consider himself to be particularly celebratory. He doesn’t consider his birthday to be that momentous, either, but if you disagree, who is he to argue against it?

Every year- before you met- he would receive the normal amount of presents, the normal amount of congratulations, and he would give out the normal amount of thank you’s.

Now, he’s not sure what normal is any more. You, who came into his life out of the blue; someone who’s been there with him during his highs and his lows, whom he hopes he will spend every passing day with. You, who manages to get him to laugh when you propose to him a planned day out for his very special birthday. You, who doesn’t laugh along, and instead pouts in that very adorable way he sincerely loves.

—

The first thing you take him to is an arcade. Bright, flashing, blinding lights take over his senses, as his eyes try to adjust to the neon colours. You turn to him with a grin, just as blinding as the fluorescent lighting, but maybe something he cherishes just a bit more. He smiles back, amused, as he lets you drag him off to a multitude of slot machines and arcade mini-games. You groan in despair when you fail to get him a plushie (those damn scams!), but cheer in glee when he manages to win a pair of matching keyrings. On the first try too.

He’s dragged away to every single station that catches your eye, tickets building up and up. You’ve probably spent a fair few coins- he can feel the hole forming in his wallet- but who is he to complain? The joy in your eyes is infectious, and he can’t help but sneak a few photos without you noticing. (He secretly saves one of them as his lock screen.) Your feet eventually tire, however, and when Zhongli sees a faint sheen of sweat across your forehead, you go up to the counter (note. he forces you to stop and go up to the counter) and buy possibly the biggest plushie he’s ever seen. Handing it to him, the fluorescent lights surround your silhouette, and he doesn’t think that he’s ever seen such a beautiful sight before. He takes the plushie, wraps an arm around your waist, and gives you a forehead kiss, one that he hopes conveys his gratitude as much as it can. When you walk outside, the brisk air hits his face, but he doesn’t think his heart has felt this light in ages.

Your next destination is a restaurant you know he’s been looking at for ages. It’s around dusk, almost dark outside, and the sunset is a breathtaking view. While you’re walking, trying to get your GPS working, his hand clasps yours, and you hear the mutters of “what a mesmerising sight”, but don’t acknowledge it, too focused on the map on your phone. You don’t know, he’s been looking at you the whole time.

After a few minutes of walking and idle chatter, you finally arrive, and Zhongli’s hit with the smell of soup. Specifically, bamboo shoot soup. His grip on your hand tightens, and you’re shown a dazzling smile, accompanied by eyes brimming with adoration. He looks like home.

“Thank you, dearest.”

Pressing another lingering kiss to your forehead, he almost all but whispers these words. He almost all but longs to shout out his devotion towards you instead, but that would be improper of him. Perhaps for another day. Plus, you can see the faint red on his ears, and the grip on your hand says all you need to hear.

—

Dishes come and go, each one as delicious as the last, and the both of you happily converse, the restaurant atmosphere bustling and cosy. All sorts of conversation rocks in between different plates, his gaze never leaving yours. He can’t help but stare; how could he not? When you’re talking like this, and when you’re looking at him like this, his eyes can’t help but fill with adoration, a content smile long since firmly plastered on his face.

When both your stomachs are full, and the rosy glow of the restaurant begins to dim, you take his hand. It’s begun to snow, gentle snowflakes dusting the top of your heads, and the path towards your final destination has turned into a wasteland of crunchy, packed white powder. Nevertheless, your hand is encased in his, and it looks like he’s feeling warm enough, cheeks blushing a very cheery pink.

A few minutes later, you’ve arrived at a park, lamplights being the only thing guiding your way. Being late at night, it’s practically empty, the only sounds being the faint thrums of a car exhaust, and the faraway yowls of cats making their way through the empty streets. You recheck your phone to ensure it’s not yet turned midnight. It hasn’t.

Leading Zhongli to a bench, right under a lamplight, you lean your head on his shoulder. He laughs in response, deep rumbles accompanying some strokes to your hair. It’s still snowing; you can see the faint white on his dark eyelashes, and he’s stroking your hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Did you like today?”

He turns to face you, eyes gleaming, smile growing.

“I loved it. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

You sigh in satisfaction and snuggle even further into his shoulder. There’s a distant chime of a clock, twelve strikes in total. You look at him.

“Happy New Year, Zhongli.”

He doesn’t say anything in response; only by lifting your chin with a delicate hand, can you see the utter devotion he holds for you. It’s amazing, actually. Your noses are almost touching; you’re so close that you can see your reflection in his pupils.

“Another year with you by my side, I couldn’t ask for anything more. Happy New Year, dearest.”

Zhongli leans in, your lips touch. Fireworks go off in the distance. 

a/n: happy new year!! 🎉🎊 as always, likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 🤎

[jayybugg]

nurse

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ghost avoids you but it's not what you think.

Warning: Slight Time Skips, Kinda Asshole Ghost?, Smut (18+), Use of Y/N, Language (?).

Word Count: 4.6K

Note: Now, I know in my master list I said that right now I would only be writing for the Slytherin Boys......but I have spiraled back into my Call of Duty, specifically Ghost. Now this is just an experiment, I don't know how this will go over but if you guys like it then maybeeee I'll post my other fandom fics that I have.

Also! This is a birthday gift for my beautiful gem, @slytherinslut0 , so everyone thank her and wish her a happy birthday. As always, @cafekitsune is on the banner.

Taskforce 141 didn’t pay any attention when they were told that they would have a new nurse on the base. They assumed it would be another male, just like everyone who got employed here.

So, only one could imagine their shock when the base’s doctor, Dr. Moscaw, introduced a pretty little thing like you to the team.

“This is Y/N. She will work under me. Your first point of contact for anything medical-wise.” Moscaw spoke, “Don’t go scaring her off, boys.”

There were grumbles and protests as Dr. Moscaw left you with the team. You cleared your throat as you gave them all a nervous smile. All their eyes were on you, surveying you almost like prey. A certain man with a skull mask being the most intense one. “Um, right. You all desperately need an annual check-up. So, whenever you all have a moment, please stop by the medical ward. I would love to update your records and meet you all.”

Before any of them could say anything, you had scurried off.

Over the next few weeks, they all came in one by one. Introducing themselves as you went through updating their records.

First came Captain Price. You liked to think that he came in to lead by example and not to get out of his mountain of paperwork. Then Kyle came in the next day. He begged you to call him “Gaz”, saying that nobody on base ever calls him Kyle.

Not long after Gaz came, Johnny waltzed into your office. He was flirty but overall friendly. Johnny, just like Gaz, begged you to call him Soap like everyone else. He was the one who referred to you as a breath of fresh air amidst the testosterone-filled air. Often, he and Gaz came to your office. They always claimed to be checking up on you, but you knew it was because they were hiding from their duties.

“Where is…. um, Ghost? Or is his name Simon? It’s two first names on this file.” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows at the lack of information in his records. Soap chuckled, glancing up from his phone to you. “Ghost is the name he’s gonna give ‘ya. It’s the name that we all know him by.”

“A field name, I assume?” You asked, looking up from your computer. Gaz and Soap nodded. “Yep. His name for plenty of reasons, but that’s neither here nor there.” Gaz waved his hand dismissively.

“Well, is he going to come in for a check-up? He doesn’t have another doctor or anything listed.” You sighed. “His medical record is empty. There is nothing on here, other than his name and height. No birthday, no past medication history, nothing.”

“Of course, that’s all that’s on there. That’s all anyone knows about him.” Soap laughed. “He’s not gonna come in here for a check-up.”

“What? Why not?” You asked, closing your computer.

“Too much information.” Gaz shrugged. “Nobody knows anything about him. It’s a shocker that he even allowed his real name to be on those records.”

“So, nobody knows if this guy even goes to the doctor?” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “That’s insane.”

“Ya may be right, but that means nothing to Ghost.” Soap said.

“And insane is basically his middle name. The man does whatever he wants.” Gaz added.

“Do you think he will come in if I just ask?” You pondered to the men.

Gaz and Soap glanced at each other before shrugging. “If you bat those pretty eyelashes at any man on this base, they’ll be eating out the palm of your hand,” Soap said.

“But Ghost isn’t like the average man. He’s not easily swayed like most.” Gaz added, “But I mean, it won’t hurt to try.”

With the encouragement from Gaz and Soap to just try to ask him, you spent the next few weeks attempting to track Ghost down. Unfortunately for you, he lived up to his name very well. It was like every time you went looking for him, everyone had “just seen him.”

Eventually, you found him, by pure coincidence. You were walking to your car, getting ready to leave the base for the day when your eyes landed on a 6’4, muscular man who donned a skull balaclava. You hadn’t seen him since the day that Price had introduced you to the team. He seemed bigger and a bit more intimidating than before, but your determination outweighed your nervousness.

You walked up to him, clearing your throat. Ghost stopped fiddling with his motorcycle to drag his eyes up to your face. His eyes were dark and analytical as he scanned your face before tracing down your body. You felt self-conscious of his wondering gaze.

“Whatcha ‘ya want?” His voice was deep, his accent coming out heavier than you thought it was.

“Um, I’m the new nurse.” You squeaked out before clearing your throat.

“I know.”

“Right.” You took a deep breath. “Your medical records are empty and you’re the only one who hasn’t come in for a check-up.”

There was a brief silence between you two as you waited for him to say something, anything. When you got the hint that he wasn’t going to say anything, you decided to just push forward and ask.

“Will you come in for one? And maybe introduce yourself a little more?”

Ghost stared at you a little longer before turning back to his motorcycle. “No.”

Your eyes widened at the blatant refusal. You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Do ‘ya not know what ‘no’ means? Aren’t ‘ya educated?” Ghost grunted; his back still turned to you.

“You can’t just…. You must fill out these records somehow!”

“No, I don’t.”

You narrowed your eyes at Ghost, huffing slightly. “It’s mandatory to at least get an annual check-up.”

“So, I’ve heard. Don’t care.” He spoke again, throwing one leg over the motorcycle. He started it up, gripping the handles. His eyes focused on your face again as he revved the engine.

“But-”

Before you could even think about responding, Ghost had sped off, leaving you in the dust.

“And he just sped off?” Soap laughed. Gaz smacked his arm, giving you an apologetic look.

“Ignore Soap. He has a terrible sense of humor.” Gaz rolled his eyes. “But we told you he was hard to sway.”

“I just don’t understand why he doesn’t want to come in.” You groaned, “Maybe he just doesn’t want to get to know me?”

“It’s Ghost, you aren’t supposed to understand him.” Gaz shrugged. “But I doubt it’s you that he’s against.”

You let another groan, causing the two men to chuckle.

“Hell, Darlin’, you might just make the man nervous as hell. As you can see, we don’t have many pretty females around here.” Soap leaned back in his chair, grinning at you.

“Me? Make Ghost nervous? Please.” You raised an eyebrow, rolling your eyes. Soap shrugged, “You never know, he could be.”

“You never know,” Gaz said, agreeing with Soap.

“Whatever.” You muttered, ending the conversation.

Weeks had passed and Ghost gave no sign of even considering stepping into the medical ward or trying to talk to you. He evaded you any chance he got. You told Dr. Moscaw and Price about the predicament with Ghost. Both waved it off and said, “He’s Ghost, that’s just how he is.

When your official first three months of working on the base had come around, Soap and Gaz had invited you out to the bar to celebrate.

“It’ll be everyone. Cap, Laswell, König, hell, even Ghost said he would come.” Soap smiled at you. You scoffed slightly at the revelation that Ghost was going to show his masked face at the bar. “Are we sure he’s coming for me, or rather, the drinks?” You asked, your eyes focused on the computer screen in front of you.

Gaz chuckled. “He refused to go until we said it was a celebration for you.”

“Funny that the man that evades me wants to come to my celebration.” You muttered.

“You know, he’s probably around you more than you think,” Soap said, causing you to look up at him with a raised eyebrow. Soap shrugged, continuing, “I mean, he’s known for being around without others knowing, hence the name Ghost.”

“Like he sees me, but I don’t see him?” You asked. Soap and Gaz nodded.

“Think of it like he is collecting information on you. The poor guy lives and breathes our missions and the military. It’s all he knows. It works with the idea that you make the man nervous.” Gaz said, patting your back as he and Soap filed out of your office.

Gaz’s and Soap’s words stuck to you. Maybe you had gone about approaching Ghost all wrong. He was quieter than Gaz and Soap and obviously more secretive, given the blank medical record and the mask. Maybe you should let him approach you, let him feel you out to see if you’re trustworthy or not.

When the night of the celebration rolled around, you promised yourself that you would not pester Ghost. Despite the growing need to get to know him and your nursing instincts to make sure he was healthy; you were going to let him come to you.

You walked into the bar, tugging slightly at your dress that rose from sitting in the taxi. Your black mini dress hugged your curves and had a low neckline that showed off your cleavage with your matching strappy heels. Although Soap and Gaz had to you to come dressed up, you debated calling the taxi back and going home to change. You were going to be with your co-workers, who were most likely going to be in jeans.

You sighed, pushing open the door to the bar. Your eyes snapped over to the large table in the back of the bar where all your coworkers sat. “Y/N!” Gaz yelled, jumping up from his seat. He grabbed your arm, escorting you to the table. Everyone shot you a smile, except König and Ghost, who both donned a balaclava. Although, you could tell from the crinkle in König’s eyes that he was smiling at you.

“The guest of honor is finally here.” Laswell smiled at you. “Congratulations on sticking it out at the base for three months. I must admit, I thought these boys would scare you away by now.”

“No, I’m tougher than I look.” You joked, “Plus, everyone is nice. I felt welcomed.”

Gaz and Soap gave Ghost an unmistakable side eye that you caught, and if you caught it, then everyone at the table caught it. You also didn’t miss the narrowed eyes that Ghost gave back to Gaz and Soap.

“A round of shots! For our new family member.” Price winked at you, giving you a warm smile.

That’s how the night went on, chatting and drinks getting passed around. It didn’t take you long to get buzzed. You kept true to your promise to yourself and didn’t go looking for interactions with Ghost.

However, you felt his eyes on you. It was like they never left you, always following your every movement.

It felt familiar.

Ghost stayed quiet the whole night, not cracking a chuckle at any jokes or taking part in the conversations. His eyes wandered the bar as if he was looking for any type of escape. Whenever your eyes met his, he looked away, his eyes hardening in the process.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” You said, feeling the alcohol finally run through you and back up your throat. Although everyone was too occupied with their conversations to hear you. You stumbled your way to the bathroom, pushing open the door. You wasted no time, bending over the toilet and vomiting what little contents that were in your stomach.

“I knew I should’ve eaten before….” You whispered to yourself.

“Yeah, ‘ya should have. Not very nurse of ‘ya.” A deep voice echoed behind you.

You jumped, turning around, clutching your chest as your eyes landed on Ghost. He stood behind you, arms crossed, as he leaned against the stall door.

“God, when the fuck did you get in here?” You asked, your eyes traveling down his figure. This would be the first time that you had ever seen Ghost in civilian clothes. Even on relaxed days on the base, Ghost wore full tactical gear. Tonight, he opted for a compression tee and black sweatpants, as if he was planning to go to the gym after all of this.

Which wouldn’t be surprising for Ghost.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos.” Your eyes landed on his sleeve, which seemed to move as he unconsciously flexed his muscles.

“I know ‘ya didn’t.” Ghost said, offering his hand out to you. You took it gratefully, standing up to your two feet. Ghost handed you some mouthwash and gum, along with your purse.

“Didn’t want nobody shifting through ‘ya stuff.” Ghost said when he saw the look that you gave him, “Also thought ‘ya might want to touch up ‘ya make up.”

“Thank you.” You gave him a small smile. He nodded, turning on his heel to leave out the bathroom. You swigged the mouthwash around, spitting into the sink. You freshen up your makeup before popping the piece of gum in your mouth.

You made your way back to the table, sitting down when a waitress came and dropped a personal pan of pepperoni pizza in front of you with water. “Oh,” You looked up at her, “I didn’t order this.”

“One of your friends ordered it for you. Told me to bring it when you came back to your seat.” She smiled and walked away. You glanced down at the pizza with a smile. Pizza was your favorite greasy food; it matched the rumbling of your drunk stomach perfectly.

You looked up at Soap and Gaz, the only two people who would know about your guilty pleasure food. Soap was leaning against the table flirting with another waitress while Gaz made bets with Price on football games. You decided you would thank one of them later when they weren’t busy.

4 am finally rolled around, causing the night to end. Gaz had called you a cab, walking you out as everyone said their goodbyes. Ghost had already mounted his motorcycle and sped off into the night. Once Gaz got you settled in the backseat, you smiled at him. “Thanks, Gaz. Oh, and thank you for the pizza, too.”

Gaz raised his eyebrow. “What pizza?”

“The pizza you ordered me when I went to the bathroom.” You clarified.

“I didn’t order you a pizza, hell, I didn’t even know you went to the bathroom.” Gaz said before chuckling a bit with a mischievous smirk, “The only person who ordered food was Ghost.”

Before you could ask anything more, Gaz tapped the roof of the car and your taxi pulled off.

You went even longer without seeing Ghost after the bar. It was almost as if he had just disappeared into thin air. You tried to question Gaz and Soap, but they claimed they knew nothing about it. Saying that it was probably a “lucky guess” but if anything they had told you about Ghost was true, nothing he did was just a lucky guess.

You pushed all your questions to the back of your mind, as you knew you weren’t going to get any answers any time soon. You were cleaning up the office as your day was ending. 141 were out on a mission, a relatively relaxed one, so your office was quiet and easy to pack up rather than having to tell Soap to stop touching stuff every 5 minutes.

You hummed to yourself, not taking notice that your office door had swung open.

“You’re terrible at being aware of ‘ya surroundings.”

You jumped, a squeal falling from your mouth. “You have to stop doing that!”

Ghost stood at your door, in sweatpants and a hoodie. His arms crossed as he stared at you through his mask. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. You suddenly felt small like the room was closing in on you due to Ghost’s tall frame.

“What are you doing here?” You asked. Ghost’s eyes seemed to widen, as if he wasn’t sure why he was there either.

“Give me a check-up.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, glancing over at the clock. It was 7:35 pm, and the base was basically empty.

“It can’t wait til tomorrow?” You asked. Ghost took a step closer to you, “I thought you wanted to get to know me?”

“I do but-”

“Then give me the check-up.” Ghost grunted, sitting on the bench. His large frame made the normally large bench look small under him.

You sighed softly, getting out your equipment to start his check-up. You stay silent as you slip on your latex gloves after washing your hands. “So, I’m guessing something happened on the mission.”

Ghost looked over to you, his eyes coated in a small dose of confusion. “What?”

“I mean, you seemed very adamant about not getting a check-up before and now you’re here after a mission. I just assumed maybe something happened.” You clarified as you moved to check his heartbeat.

It took everything in you not to let your hands wander across his chest as you pulled away from him to turn to your computer and record the data.

“Nothing happened. Just built up some confidence.” He said, getting off the bench to stand behind you closely.

“O-oh…. confidence for what?” You took a deep breath, your eyes focusing on the computer screen.

Ghost didn’t answer your question, instead, he grabbed your shoulders and spun you around to face him. “You’re very annoying, you know that?”

“What?” Your eyes widened.

“You’re always around, smelling good. In these scrubs that hug your body tighter than any other scrubs I’ve ever seen.” Ghost muttered, “Always laughing at Soap’s stupid jokes. Always getting pizza when you know you aren’t supposed to.”

“I try to avoid you and ignore you, but you just crawl your little ass into my mind anyways. All mission…. just thinking and wondering what you’re doing.” Ghost continued.

“Is this your way of admitting that you’ve been thinking about me?” You asked.

Ghost stayed silent. His eyes stay trained on you, no words or sounds coming from him. His hand moved to take a piece of your hair and twirling it around his finger.

“Um, we should finish the check-up so we can go.” You spoke softly. Ghost ignored you, dipping his face into your neck. He took a deep breath. “God, you smell heavenly.”

“Ghost....”

“I need you.” He grumbled, “I need you all around me. I’ve learned everything I can about you and all I can think about is how I need to feel about you.”

“How I need to ruin you.”

You felt a knot in your stomach at his words, heat pooling inside you. “R-ruin me?”

“Beyond belief.” Ghost confirmed, “Give me the green light.”

You stayed silent as Ghost pushed his knee between your legs, pressing his knees gently against your core, causing a whimper to fall from your mouth. He lifted his mask to reveal his lips, pressing against your neck in soft, wet kisses. “Y/N. Answer me.”

“I….” You gasped for air, “P-please…do it.”

Ghost didn’t need to hear anything else. He lifted you easily, throwing you on the bench. He yanked your top off, groping your breast. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about these since the bar. So soft and plump…” Ghost grumbled, pulling your bra down and latching his mouth to your nipple.

A small moan fell from your mouth at the actions. His tongue swirled around your nipple before he pulled away with a slight “pop”. He left a trail of kisses down your chest to your naval. He tugged down your pants, throwing them in the same direction as your top. He groaned at the sight of the wet spot in your panties.

“So wet and ready for me. Huh, love?” Ghost said, blowing softly on your clothed clit.

You whined softly, nodding your head. He slapped your thigh, his eyes looking up at you. “I want to hear use your words. Let me hear that pretty voice that has been plaguing my mind for these past few months.”

You let out a sigh as Ghost pressed the pad of his tongue to your slit through your panties, teasing you. “Yes…. I’m wet and ready for you.”

“Good fucking girl, Lovie.” Ghost chuckled, moving your panties to the side to latch his mouth to your clit. He sucked and lapped at your clit harshly, your moans becoming uncontrollable as he ate you out like a starved man. His tongue teased your slit, flicking his tongue up and down.

He gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you closer to him. His nose pressed against your clit, stimulating you more and more. “Oh God, fuck, Ghost.” You moaned, your hands reaching out to grip the top of his balaclava.

“That’s right. I want you moaning my name like it’s the only thing that pretty little mind knows.” Ghost muttered, slipping two fingers into you as he kept lapping up all your juices. Your thighs tightened around his face as you felt your climax coming.

Ghost groaned at the action, his cock twitching with anticipation. You tossed your head back as pleasure coursed through your body. “I’m about to cum, fuck, I’m s’close.”

Your words seem to push Ghost further into sending you over the edge. His tongue moved faster against you as his fingers matched his pace. Your mind was blanking from the orgasm that rushed over your body. Ghost pulled his fingers out slowly as he pulled away from your swollen clit. His mouth was covered in your slick as he smirked. “Taste so sweet, Angel.” He spoke.

He pushed his two fingers into your mouth, groaning at the warmth of it. You suck on his fingers, tasting yourself on them as you swirled your tongue around. “Such a good, eager girl. So happy to taste yourself on my fingers.” Ghost whispered, pushing them down your throat so he could hear your gags.

Ghost pulled away, yanking his sweatpants and boxers down. His cock sprang out, revealing its large length. It hit his abdomen; the tip leaking with pre-cum. Your eyes looked down at him, eyes widening at the sight. “My God….” You whispered.

Ghost grabbed the base of his shaft, jerking himself off slightly before pulling you to the edge of the bench and wrapping one of your legs around his waist while propping the other one on his shoulder. “I need this pretty pussy wrapped around my cock, taking every inch of me.” Ghost growled. He rubbed his tip up and down your slick, coating it in it.

“Tell me how much you want this, Lovie. How bad do you want me to fuck you?” Ghost demanded; his eyes focused on you. You let out a whiny moan, looking up at him, “Please fuck me. I want your cock so bad.”

Ghost pushed into you, filling you up slowly but surely. Ghost groaned, sinking into you until he was fully inside you. “S’fucking tight. Gonna fuck this pretty cunt until it’s molded to only take my cock.” Ghost groaned, snapping his hips forward for a forceful thrust. A guttural moan fell from your mouth, as Ghost gripped your throat with both hands, pounding into you at a ruthless pace.

“M’been dreaming of this since the day I laid eyes on your fucking application picture.” Ghost muttered, “Such a pretty fucking girl. Batting your eyelashes at everyone.”

Ghost’s hands moved down to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Your moans were drowned out by the loud slapping of your skin. If it wasn’t for the way that Ghost was viciously railing you, you would be concerned that someone would walk past and hear you.

“Such a fucking whore. Getting fucked in your office…. you like being railed after work? Hmm?” Ghost hissed out as you clenched around him.

“You look s’pretty being full of my cock.” Ghost muttered, leaning down to kiss and nip your neck. You whined, feeling another knot form in your stomach. You clenched around Ghost, making him groan. “M’close…. s’close…” You spoke in between moans.

“Go ahead and make a mess on my cock, baby. Cum all over this cock like the slut you are.” Ghost demanded. It didn’t take long for your legs to shake and for Ghost’s cock to be drenched in your climax. He slowed his thrusts, pulling out of you. You whimpered at the lost feeling.

“Get up, Lovie. I want to cum all in that pretty mouth of yours.” Ghost said, pulling you off the bench and to your knees. You looked up at him as he pumped himself. Slapping his cock against your lips, you opened your mouth to let him slip in.

“S’fucking warm. Fucking made to take my dick in every fucking hole you have.” Ghost muttered, his hand snaking around the back of your head to shove his dick further down your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you tasted all your juices that drenched his cock. Saliva trailed down your chin as Ghost thrust in and out of your mouth at an unforgiving pace. “A fucking slut you are, taking my dick so well. Fuck.” Ghost groaned as his hip stuttered slightly. His cock twitched in your mouth before ropes of cum shot down your throat.

Your eyes screwed shut as Ghost stayed deep in your throat, making sure you swallowed all his cum. He pulled out, bending down to level as you looked up at him. “So, this was going through your mind all this time.” You spoke breathlessly.

“Shocked, Lovie?” Ghost smirked, lifting you back to your feet.

“A little.” You nodded. Ghost tilted your head back to press a rough but gentle kiss to your lips. “Well, I suggest you get used to it because there will be more of that.”

“So, you made your move, huh?” Soap grinned wickedly at Ghost, who sat further down the table. Ghost’s eyes shot to Soap’s as he narrowed them at the man.

“Don’t even try to deny it, LT.” Gaz said, his eyes staying trained on his phone. “All the talk around the base is how a certain skull mask-wearing lieutenant is attached to the hip of the pretty little nurse.”

“She must’ve really made you nervous if it took you almost three months to make a move on her.” Soap teased.

“I did more than make a move on her, Sergeant.” Ghost spoke, “That pretty little nurse is now my pretty little nurse.”

Ghost smirked underneath his mask as he looked between Gaz and Soap. “So, it would do you both good to watch your hands the next to you hug her. Would hate to have to break your fingers off for wandering too far for your own good.”

Without another word, Ghost sauntered out of the meeting room, leaving Soap and Gaz dumbfounded.

“Hm, I was wondering when that boy was going to make a move.” Price hummed from his spot, “All that begging to hire her to this base and took nearly four months to even talk to her.”

“Wait, what? Ghost knew about her before she even got to base?” Gaz asked.

“Ghost was the one who pulled her application.” Price said, “Said ‘his future girl’ had applied, and I needed to get her on base.”

Gaz and Soap looked at each other before sighing. Of course, Ghost knew you before you knew him.

Because it wouldn’t be Ghost if he didn’t.

[astraystayyh]

The snow falls, we fall apart.

summary: when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

genre: producer student!hyunjin x reader. roommates!au. friends to lovers. acute descriptions of heartbreak and general sadness. slow burn. hurt/comfort. healing and hopeless romantic hyune. very inspired by long for you so lots of pining and yearning. (wc: 13k)

warnings: mentions of alcohol. it is implied that reader was in an a very toxic relationship but no details are shared.

a.n: happy birthday to my hyunjin, my muse, my light. thank you for being so full of love that it made me love love again in return. this is i think my most personal piece, and i hope it reminds those who need it that love should be soft and kind, that it shouldn’t hurt, that it should heal not break. i love you guys and i love you my xi, writing this collab with you has been a true honor <3 also!! please listen to long for you while reading :,)

winter falls masterlist.

You’ve only ever felt utter despair twice in your life.

First, when you were seven years old, playing hide and seek with your cousins at your grandma’s house. It was a warm summer afternoon, the air sweetened by pastries you devoured hours ago. You decided to hide in a wooden cabinet up in the attic, only to end up stuck there. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, the oxygen seeping away from the cracks underneath the door, leaving you deprived of air, of life.

Second, at twelve, when you've come to discover sorrow's new facet, clad in grief's heavy cloak. Your parents adopted a hamster for your birthday, but they did not know he had a terminal disease. You were distraught, to say the least, when you awoke to its still form, death claiming a frail heart unaware of its imminent fate.

And now, third, many many moons later, you are knocking on Hyunjin’s door a few minutes after midnight. It is cold out, tears tracing rivulets on your cheeks, your fingers tinted pink from roaming outside in the harsh winds, your heart much heavier than when you were a child. More grief-stricken, at your own hands, this time.

A disheveled Hyunjin opens the door, his blonde ash hair tousled and sticking upwards, a clear indication of the many times he had run his hands through it in fits of frustration. His gray hoodie zipped up hastily, revealing the silver cross necklace he was wearing, nestling perfectly against his honeyed skin.

You've always had an aversion to seeking comfort, saw it as revealing your deepest vulnerabilities to a world that isn't always kind. It was easier, much simpler to do so when you were a clueless child— when you sank in your cousin Lia's hold as she attempted to steady your breathing, when your mother cradled you in her lap after Pinky died.

It is much harder now, much more embarrassing because Hyunjin has never seen you this sad, never glimpsed your shadows that now swarm his doorstep, unannounced.

“What's wrong?” he quickly asks, eyes darting over your figure in a rapid search for visible wounds. He wouldn’t find any. All your injuries stem from within— blood doesn’t have to be spilled for your heart to weep.

You had rehearsed a lie as you walked up to his doorstep. You would say that your car broke down near his place and ask if you could stay over for the night. He would insist he could drive you to your place and you’d refuse, saying that it was too late and you did not wish to bother him. You’d sleep on the couch and slip away in the early hours of the morning.

Yet, it is the genuine worry etched in his eyes that dismantles the fortress you've hidden in, melts the lie in your throat, morphing it into a steel lump coiling in your throat. He looks concerned when all you’ve had directed towards you recently was anger. And you missed someone looking at you in care, not reproach.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You admit, your voice shattered, fragments of your vocal cords scattered out in the wind like a broken mosaic, the sound of it scraping against your ears.

Blow one hurt. It felt like your body turned against you as it deprived you of oxygen. The sobs that escaped you once you perceived the light pained you, perhaps more than being confined in the darkness.

Blow two was even worse, it was your first time experiencing grief. It was too hard of a concept for your innocent heart to grasp, too complicated for you to find solace in anything as adults do.

You promised yourself that you’d reserve blow three for monumental agonies— big pains and big sorrows only. That’s how you managed to keep all your tears at bay for most of your life. Would they be worth losing your third sob for? No, you've always found the answer to be.

And in all the twisted scenarios you’ve conjured up in your mind, deaths and illnesses and the haunting tale of failure, you did not imagine that it would happen on Hwang Hyunjin’s doorstep. That you’d burst into sobs at the compassionate look in his gaze, and the sad smile he sent your way. As if he knew, as everyone did around you. That you had handed a knife to a serial killer and it was only a matter of time before he stabbed you in the heart.

Two weeks ago.

“I’m trying to understand you but you aren’t helping me,” Seungmin is frustrated as he paces relentlessly before you from left to right like a swinging pendulum. You sit on the couch, beholding only his shoes, avoiding his gaze that would reflect the truth you dare not confront.

“He’s sucking the life out of you, can’t you see that?”

You can, out of everyone that surrounds you, you can see it the most. You feel as if you are carrying a skin that isn’t your own, weighed down by a relationship that has taken everything from you. But admitting it is admitting that you were wrong, in trusting him, in loving him. You couldn’t bear it.

“We are fine!” you shout back, the defiance in your voice surprises even you. This is a familiar script with Seungmin, a recurring conversation spurred by your puffy eyes and diminishing appetite. He tells you, begs you to leave, but where could you go? How could you leave a home where you've shed all your treasured belongings at the door— your skin, your bones, your very self.

What place would welcome you now that you're stripped bare of your soul?

“When was the last time he made you smile, huh? All he does is hurt you, and you...” he chuckles incredulously, running his hand through his hair. “You are letting him.”

Deny, deny, deny.

“This isn’t true. He loves me,” the words taste foreign in your mouth like rusty metal dragging across your lips. A small voice whispers that love shouldn't feel like this, but you quiet it down.

“Are you hearing yourself? Yn, I…” he kneels before you, his hands resting comfortingly on your knees. This is Seungmin, your best friend of five years. You know he has your best interests at heart, you are even more sure of it when his voice softens, shakes slightly when he utters your name. “Yn, please. I’m trying to help you. Please.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you push away his hands, standing up. “I don’t want your help, and I don’t need it.”

You quickly leave Seungmin’s dorm, your heart heavier than when you entered it, foolishly hoping that he'd ignore your distressed state after yet another fight with your boyfriend. But Seungmin doesn't understand, no one around you does— you’ve gambled your heart, and you cannot stop drawing the cards, even in the face of losing strikes.

❁ ❁ ❁

Hyunjin offers you a cup of tea with a gentle smile and you grab the steaming drink from his hands. The smell of chamomile wraps around your senses, and your brain fizzles out for a second before the soothing aroma. But it is a fleeting respite, the tempest of your thoughts crashes back onto you with an unsettling force, causing you to almost drop the drink as your hands shake. You place it down the table without taking a sip.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced,” you apologize, wincing at the intrusion, “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I always sleep late. Don’t worry about it,” he smiles, but you know it isn’t a genuine grin, because his eyes betray an unsubdued concern, refusing to morph into their usual moon crescents.

You’ve always thought that Hyunjin wears his emotions openly— when he laughed, he did so loudly, his boisterous giggles traveling around Seungmin’s dorm. When he hurt himself, everyone in the vicinity would know so from his loud yelps. And when something worried him, he would bite his lip, toying with the plush flesh to ease his nerves.

As he is doing now. Looking at you.

“We broke up,” you quickly say, and your words hang over you like a gloomy cloud. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you want me to fight him? I’ll bring changbin too,” he suggests a serious tone underlying his playful offer, and it manages to tear a reluctant giggle out of you.

“Changbin doesn’t know me well enough to fight for me,” you counteract and he shakes his head. “He’ll fight for me, I'm his princess.”

“Are you now?” The giggle escapes your mouth less forcefully, and the smile that graces Hyunjin’s face is a genuine one.

“I am. My proposal stands,” he extends his hand and you wrap your fingers around his palm. “Thank you, I’ll keep it in mind,” you smile but he frowns, flipping your hand around in his hold.

“You are freezing,” he whispers, using his other palm to rub warmth into yours.

“It’s fine,” you lie, slipping your hand out of his grasp, not feeling deserving of his kindness.

Wordlessly, Hyunjin stands, walking into what you assume is his bedroom. You only know of his place because you dropped off Seungmin here some time ago. You are too exhausted to even drink in the interior.

“Here,” he returns, handing you a navy hoodie of his and black joggers. “This will keep you warm at night.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, hesitating for a few seconds before speaking again. “Can you please not tell Seungmin, I... I can't face him right now.”

“Of course. I’ll be awake still if you do need something.”

Hyunjin’s clothing is warm, although peeling away your own garments felt like shedding layers of your skin, as if the fabric melted into your very flesh, just like memories from the day did. You have never felt this worthless before, discarded like a forgotten leaf on the roadside, one he stepped on for his own enjoyment, leaving you crushed in his wake, unable to fly away again.

Hyunjin’s rose perfume wraps around you, and you find relief in sleeping somewhere where your, his, scent was no longer around. You foolishly hope that if you close your eyes hard enough, you’ll manage to convince yourself that you’re someone else, tonight. Someone who isn’t tethered to the heartache, someone who can slip away from the clutches of a love that hurts more than hate could ever manage to do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Heartbreak isn’t beautiful, no matter how eloquently you try to dress it in the syllables of poetry, no words can soften the burn in your lungs, the searing ache that courses through your very core, reminding you that deep within, down to the fundamentals of your being and the most basic alchemy that ties your atoms together— you are unlovable. Whether you cut your hair or allow it to grow, change your heart, or leave it as it has always been, you will remain so.

You don’t remember much of the past week, blurry fragments here and there that float in your mind like a distorted water reflection. There is little room for memories when you are busy trying to remember how to breathe— one inhale in, one exhale out. The simple concept seems harder when there are unkind hands permanently lodged into your heart, squeezing it tight.

What you do remember is telling Seungmin through text the next day, because you couldn’t bear the way his eyes would soften if you spoke to him in person. No signs of surprise cast on his figure, because he knew that it was long coming, a train with one final inevitable destination— you in shambles, him okay.

You remember Seungmin cradling you in his arms when he came to see you, and you trying desperately to keep the tears at bay— too focused on pinching your arm to let Seungmin’s warmth radiate through your being, Hyunjin lingering uncomfortably by the entrance of his living room.

You remember begging Seungmin to grab your belongings from the apartment you shared with your ex because you were unable to face him, him, and everything that your old place spelled out for you. Stand in the ruins of what you once thought would be your permanent home.

And now, you watch as Seungmin and Hyunjin bring suitcases full of your stuff into the latter’s place. And you feel like an outsider in your own body, standing at the corner of the room gazing at utter destruction, unable to stop it, unable to mend it. Seungmin quickly reassures you that you could crash in his and Minho’s place until you find a new one to live in, already taking out his laptop to search for new apartments for you.

But you did not care for it, your eyes zeroed in on the satin shirt peeking out of your suitcase. The one he bought you on your first month anniversary. Back when love felt like a gentle feather running down your spine, and not a dull knife slicing away at your skin.

“This place's expensive too,” Seungmin sighs, rubbing his temple warily. Your logical best friend could not fix your heartbreak but he took it to heart to alleviate your other troubles. You would thank him for it, later, when your tongue finds enough will to move.

“What if you move in with me?” Hyunjin suddenly says and his words filtrate through the fog in your mind easily, as if he rehearsed them enough times so they’d roll out smoothly out of his mouth. “I mean, Felix is away for the next year since he went back to Australia. And I was looking for a new roommate anyway.” He shrugs and Seungmin turns to look at you, his eyes convey the question his mouth doesn’t articulate— is it okay with you?

“I don’t…” your voice is croaked, so you clear your throat. “I don’t want you to do things out of pity.”

“I’m not. If I was, I would've told you to move in with me for free. I still need you to pay rent,” he raises his eyebrows, a playful tease and you smile in relief, nodding, “Okay, I will. thank you.”

Heartbreak is ugly and all-encompassing, weaving through the roots of your heart and infecting each organ with its insidious touch. It renders you immobile, incapable of performing the simplest tasks, burdened by a weight unseen by the world. But you try your best, your very best to contain it.

You smile at the cashier as she hands back your money only to wonder if her soft, well-manicured hands would too crush a soul without remorse. You go to all your classes without fail but your mind is elsewhere, contemplating why the sun filtering through the windows no longer warms your skin. Can nerve endings perish when subjected to too much pain? What's left of life when you can no longer feel the caress of the sun?

You watch a movie at Seungmin's dorm but your mind is elsewhere, fleeting to this morning and how you refused to stay in the shower for more than three minutes because your thoughts might become haunting ghosts tempting you to follow them. You brush your hair and spray your perfume, only because you have to, because you live with Hyunjin and you wouldn’t want your sadness to taint him too. You wonder how long you’ll have to bear it. You wonder if it’ll ever leave you or if the veins in your heart have molded themselves after the pain and they wouldn’t know how to accept happiness anymore.

You greet Hyunjin as he walks past you, shaking your head when he asks you if you want to eat dinner with him, quickly retracting back into your room. You have ten unread messages and a pile of growing laundry you need to do, but all you can muster is to gaze at the empty walls, mirroring the void within you. Your mom told you to call her again and you don’t know how you’ll speak to her without bursting into a sob, how you’ll tell her that all it took was one person to break you. Or maybe it was two people, your hands and his tearing apart your flesh and bones. Maybe that’s the worst part about it. So you don’t call her.

And you only ever emerge from your room when you need to, just like now because your water bottle is finished and you need to refill it. You go to open the kitchen door when you hear Hyunjin’s muted shatter, Felix’s distinctive deep voice coming out of the phone speaker.

“Next you add the melted butter and stir it,” Felix instructs, the sounds of pots and utensils clinking in the background. You fidget slightly, mustering the strength to paint a fake smile on your lips.

“What next?”

“Sift the dry ingredients then add them to your wet mixture,” Felix explains, met with a few seconds of silence. You can almost visualize Hyunjin's perplexed expression, blinking rapidly in confusion.

“Explain it to me like I’m five years old,” he requests, prompting a small smile to etch itself onto your face.

“How are you surviving without me?”

“I’m not please come home,” Hyunjin sounds horrified as Felix’s rich chuckles fill the air. “Why do you suddenly want to make brownies anyway?” he then asks.

You go to open the door when Hyunjin’s response catches you off guard.

“They’re for Yn.”

Hyunjin's words resonate in the air, causing a hitch in your throat and Felix’s teasing whistles simultaneously, but Hyunjin is quick to stop him. “No, no, no, it’s not like that. They’re just a bit down and I remember them loving your brownies. So…”

It takes you a fleeting moment to dig the memory out of your mind, a year ago, right before your ex came to pick you up from Seungmin’s dorm. You had a bite of Felix’s brownies, a surprised gasp escaping your lips at its delicious taste, back when food had taste and happiness came easily to you. It was an insignificant memory, you did not imagine Hyunjin, out of everyone, would remember it.

But he did, and he’s now pacing before your closed door, contemplating how he’ll convince you to finally eat something with him. He throws a thumbs-up in the air for no one but himself, inhaling deeply before knocking on your door.

“Hey,” he greets with a hopeful smile, his gaze meeting your tired form. He hesitates for a second, clearing his throat. “Brownies?” You remain unmoving and he falters, “Hm? Please?”

“Sure,” you nod and a wave of relief floods through Hyunjin as you step out of your room. His joy is short-lived when he takes the brownies out of the oven, only to find them thoroughly burnt.

His mouth hangs agape, and he walks back shamefully to the oven, lowering its door only to scream inside of it.

“This will be more therapeutic,” you say, pointing nonchalantly to the fridge and he agrees, opening its doors and yelling once again in the much larger space.

Your melodic laughter fills the kitchen, Hyunjin’s embarrassment is suddenly a forgotten memory.

“I’m craving kimbap. Should we get it instead?” you propose, a touch shyly and he quickly agrees, afraid you’d change your mind and walk back to your room where he can no longer ensure you are okay.

Hyunjin absentmindedly dances along to the music blasting through the convenience store when a girl sidles up to his side, a saccharine grin on her lips as she looks up at him, “hi,” she greets and his tentative smile mirrors hers. “Hey.”

“Are you single?” she asks, her gaze briefly fleeting to the window. “I think you are really cute.”

“I’m…” he glances at you but you're suddenly engrossed in the ingredients of the tuna kimbap you are holding, pretending not to listen. “I am but I’m not interested, thank you.”

“Oh, come on,” she places a hand on his arm and he physically recoils. “Give me your insta and we could talk.”

“No,” he repeats, grabbing her hand to remove it when a loud voice startles him. “Baby, what’s taking you so— What are you doing?” Hyunjin watches in horror as the girl’s eyes grow wide, before she scrambles to the man’s side, feigning fear.

“He kept hitting on me when I said I had a boyfriend, baby.”

“What?” both you and Hyunjin gasped in comical unison. He would find it amusing if not for the escalating anger radiating from the man, who looks like he spends all his days in the gym. Hyunjin suddenly regrets not working out with Changbin.

The man strides towards Hyunjin. “Do you want to die?”

“No? there’s a misunderstanding,” he replies, swiftly standing before you and shielding you with his arm. “Your… baby,” he wiggles his finger in front of the man's face, “she was the one hitting on me!”

The man scoffs loudly, his face growing redder from the anger seething in him. “So you hit on my girlfriend and then accuse her of cheating?” His fist rises threateningly, prompting Hyunjin to step back, accidentally bumping into your chest.

“Wait, wait, wait! Let’s go talk outside, man to man,” Hyunjin pauses, his voice taking on a taunting edge, “unless you're too scared?” he smirks as he feels you pull at his shirt, whispering an incredulous- “What are you doing?” He shakes his head, grabbing your hand and leading you outside, throwing a sly wink at the man behind you now.

“Are you seriously going to fight him?” you ask, your gaze shifting towards the deranged couple who are about to step out of the grocery store. “No, of course not. I'm a lover, not a fighter.”

“You said you'd fight my ex,” you point out and his eyes soften surprisingly.

“You are an exception.” He looks back at the man, who's now walking towards you both. “But anyways, do you know how to run?” he asks and you frown, “who doesn’t know how to—” you pause as realization dawns on you. “No," you whisper furiously.

“Yes.”

“No,” you shake your head, horrified and he nods, eyes apologetic.

“Yes.” His fingers entwine with yours, he squeezes your hand once before he takes off running.

“Hwang fucking Hyunjin!” you shout and he looks back at you, a mischievous smile on his face. “I’m sorry Yn my face is too pretty to be beaten up.”

“He’s following us!” you yell, looking back horrified as the, even angrier, man runs after you.

“Well, run faster!”

“I’m wearing fucking slippers!” you curse and he giggles, tipping his head back, the wind slamming into you both, his hand never letting go of your own.

“Oh my god why is he still running!” you groan and Hyunjin picks up speed, moving you even closer to his sprinting figure

“I know, is it ever that serious?” he yells above his shoulder and you dig your nails into his palm.

“Shut up, this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so gorgeous.”

“So, you think I’m pretty too?” Hyunjin grins proudly and an incredulous laugh escapes your lips.

“Really? Is this what you’re getting out of this situation?”

“Silver linings, Yn, silver linings,” he shouts as you round a small alley, finally stopping to catch your breath. You both fall to the ground, heavy breaths escaping your chests.

“Holy shit, I’m not athletic at all,” he heaves, his eyes meeting yours. He expects to find anger lingering in your gaze but all he can grasp is your amused smile before you collapse into a fit of laughter, clapping loudly and clutching your stomach with your hand.

“Oh my god, I’m crying,” you laugh harder, wiping away at the tears falling from your eyes. Hyunjin’s weariness disappears in the blink of an eye— he did not realize how much he missed your smile until he glimpsed it again. And it is beautiful. Happiness looks beautiful on you.

“Idiot,” you hit his shoulder playfully, and his response is delayed for a few seconds, the warmth from your smile rendering him immobile.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, pulling you up. “Here, I’ll carry you home,” he squats slightly before you. “How impolite of me. How dare I make your majesty run.”

You shake your head, amused, before climbing atop his back, his warm palms holding your thighs securely. “Only because the slippers hurt my feet.”

You walk in silence for a while, your arms wound up around Hyunjin’s neck, the ghost of a smile still lingering on both your faces.

“They said it will snow tomorrow,” Hyunjin speaks suddenly and you stay silent for so long he starts to wonder if you even heard him.

“Mm? That’s nice,” your tone is melancholic, and he pauses at the peculiar sadness in it— as though you were trying to act nonchalant about something that has once meant the world to you.

“Don’t you like the snow?” he asks and your hold on his neck falters.

“I loved it. Loved ice skating and building snowmen.” Your voice is light and airy, like Hyunjin’s favorite mint chocolate ice cream. “But now it reminds me of bad times, bad memories.”

“I understand.”

Hyunjin knows what it feels like to relinquish parts of yourself you never wished to part from. For someone to grab your happiest places and to cast a gloomy filter atop them. Sometimes it is the loss of a season that hurts more than the departure of a person.

And Hyunjin loves winter.

He’ll do everything so that you’ll come to love it again too.

❁ ❁ ❁

Is it a nightmare if the person in it is one you once loved, looked forward to beholding with your gaze, hoping they’d never slip out of your reach? You don’t know, but you are growing tired of having the same dreams every night. Of waking up with an exhaustion that goes beyond your restless sleep but pleads from your soul to rest after almost a year of torment.

You sigh wearily, rubbing a hand through your face before walking to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. You find Hyunjin there, eating a cupcake while standing shirtless, scrolling through his phone. You blink at the sight.

“Hey,” you clear your throat and he startles, dropping the cupcake on the ground. He goes to pick it up only to bang his head on the table, a loud yelp escaping his lips. You barely contain your giggles as you walk to his side, rubbing your palm soothingly on his head. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you.”

“At least pretend you are sorry,” he mumbles, pointing to your amused smile and you chuckle, taking his hand and helping him to his feet.

“What are you doing up now?” he asks as he grabs some napkins to clean up the pink frosting smeared across the floor.

You hesitate for a few seconds before whispering, “Just nightmares. And you?” you quickly add, not keen on pushing the subject any further.

“I'm working on a song,” he explains, as his gaze lingers on your sunken eyes, weighed down by dark circles from too many sleepless nights.

“And the cupcake?”

“Some people need caffeine to function. I need flour.”

“I literally see you drink three americanos per day.”

“Okay well maybe I need both,” he admits sheepishly and you grin, drumming your fingers along the countertop.

“Can I sit with you while you work?” you ask quickly, before the words linger enough in your mouth that you no longer wish to spit them out.

The smile that Hyunjin sends you is kind, pushing the shadows of your nightmares just slightly out of reach.

“Of course, yeah you can. Don’t even need to ask.”

Hyunjin walks first into his bedroom, quickly slipping on a hoodie while you take in the interior. It is a quite simple room— a large bed with gray covers, and a desk filled with what you assume to be his producing equipment sits adjacent. But what catches your attention is the dried rose hung delicately on the wall, and the array of paintings surrounding it. You edge closer to it, drawn to the well-crafted paintings— a sun-drenched beach, a couple lost in an embrace so intimate their forms can no longer be separated, and an elderly pair riding a motorcycle, their love radiating vibrantly as if enclosed in eternal youth.

“You paint?” you ask, turning around to find Hyunjin watching you. He steps closer, enveloping you once more in the fragrance of his rose perfume.

“In my free time.”

“You are amazing, Hyunjin,” you compliment sincerely, your gaze fixed on that imagery of the old couple, one that most likely grew together. It tugs at your heartstrings, stirs a painful longing within you, a memory of a time when you too believed you’d find such boundless love.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, before brushing his fingertips gently against your forearm, for a fleeting second. “Are you okay?” he asks, a tenderness you’ve been aching for latched into his question. Your eyes refuse to peel away from the paintings and the love spilling from each paint brush stroke, a love that refuses to rest on your being as if you were harboring an armor that repels it.

“No,” you reply sincerely, turning to face him. “It’s really hard,” you say with a smile, hoping that the mechanical display of happiness would keep your tears at bay, tricking your brain into believing you're not as sad as you feel.

It fails to do so, and the tears well in your eyes like a gathering storm. Frustration twists your features as you shut your eyes, tilting your head upward in a desperate attempt to contain the flood. It pauses as Hyunjin cradles the back of your head, drawing you close to the warmth of his neck. His palm glides soothingly along your spine, before patting your back ever so gently.

Your back stiffens, hands curling into tight fists, breath catching in your throat. You've grown accustomed to pushing away comfort, putting up tall barriers to shield yourself. But tonight, Hyunjin seems to break through your defenses.

Tonight, you soften, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, head nestling deeper against his tender skin.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispers and another sob wracks through you, but he only holds you tighter. “It’ll get better soon.”

“I loved him,” you hiccup, your voice breaks, “a lot.”

“I know, that’s why it hurts.” His voice is gentle, and yet his hold on you feels secure as if you could stumble and fall, and he would be there to catch you

“I want it to stop hurting.”

“It will, with time.”

Your next words are tinged with a childlike vulnerability, reminiscent of blow one, then two. But you do not care for it, in that instant, you crave the reassurance, you need someone to plant a seed of hope in your soul because your hands are too frail to dig for it.

“Do you promise me?”

His response doesn’t come hastily, carelessly thrown into the air like idle chatters. He takes his time, considering it with the gravity of an oath.

“I promise you.” He finally says, each syllable infused with sincerity. A brief pause hangs in the air before he adds. “And if it doesn’t then you can hit me.”

“On your pretty face?” you ask, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“On my pretty face,” he confirms with a chuckle.

“What an honor,” you roll your eyes playfully as you lean back and he grins, tenderly wiping away your tears with the back of his fingers.

“I can't believe it took three minutes for you to cry in my room. This isn’t good for my reputation.”

“Good thing this will never leave this bedroom, right?” you point a finger at him threateningly, and he pretends to zip his lips, tossing away the imaginary key. “You got it.”

“So what are you working on?” you ask as you settle on the edge of his bed, knees drawn up to your chest.

“It’s a pretty sad song, wanna hear?” he offers, sitting across from you on his chair.

“Yeah, I'd love to,” you smile, and Hyunjin deftly adjusts a few buttons, before his melancholic whistles weave through the air, coupled with the somber melody of a piano. Your breath catches in your throat, the music reaching into the very depths of your soul. It's as if the notes are calling out for a loved one, for a time that has long passed, for a past that will never come back no matter how much we long for it.

The instrumental continues, each piano note and each violin string echo like a bittersweet lament, springing tears to your eyes. But the melody remains beautiful, akin to the beauty always found in the sadness— in the tears that cascade down your cheeks like glistening crystals, in the tremble of your hands akin to branches swaying in the wind, in the rise and fall of your chest with each breath, mirroring the ebb and flow of the waves.

Hyunjin watches you intently as the music envelops you both, his gaze softening with each passing moment. You bring a hand to your chest, almost unconsciously, too engrossed in the melody to even blink. He feels a blush sprout on his cheeks as your teary eyes hold his with the last fading guitar strings.

“You keep on making me cry,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion, and he grins, tilting his head shyly against his shoulder.

“You like it?” he asks, a tad eager and you nod, not bothering to wipe the lone tears that are falling down your cheeks.

“I think this is what my loneliness sounds like,” you confess softly.

“As do mine.”

A silent beat runs between you both, it isn’t uncomfortable, but safe. Because you understand him, just as he understands you.

“Sometimes I long for things that have passed," he admits, “although I know I can't get them anymore.”

“The most terrible thing you can long for is yourself.”

“Because no one’s to blame for that loss but you?” he muses and you nod, a sad smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, exactly.”

You bite your lip, casting a glance back at the paintings adorning the wall. “I don't love him anymore,” you begin quietly. “I stopped a long time ago because there was no room for love anymore to grow amid weeds and thorns.”

He remains silent, sensing that this is a weight you need to unburden yourself from.

“But in the midst of it I think I stopped loving myself too,” you whisper, a confession too terrible to be uttered out loud. “That's what I long for. The things I used to love that I'm indifferent to now.”

“Like you’re a stranger before everything once familiar to you.”

“Yeah, you express it prettily,” you remark with a small smile.

“It's my job,” he grins lightly.

“I think when your heart is pure,” he begins after a while, pausing to carefully choose the words that will soothe your burn, help sleep come more easily to you. “You give love to others more readily than you do to yourself. And it takes time, patience, to redirect that love back to your own heart once again. But it's not a mistake to love, you shouldn’t hate yourself for it. Nor should you blame your past self for loving the wrong person because they did not know what you now do.”

“Think of it as a caterpillar in their cocoon,” he continues gently, “when they finally emerge from their chrysalis, they might long for who they were, where they once were because it is the only place they've ever known. But they do not realize that they've transformed into a beautiful butterfly, that they can now fly, and witness much more than their chrysalis. So maybe, your new self will love the same things as before, or maybe you’ll find new, better things to love that you would have not known before. But in either way, your heart is beautiful. That is what matters, no?”

A small pout draws on your lips, your eyebrows scrunched as you gaze at him.

“You have a very tender soul, Hyunjin.”

Your words linger in Hyunjin's mind long after the sunrise, as you lay peacefully asleep on his bed. The melody of the instrumental he produced continues to play faintly in the background, serving as a gentle lullaby that eases you into slumber, entwined in his sheets, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself, one hand cradling your shoulders and the other resting gently on your stomach. The image sears into his eyes as he sketches the outlines of a figure holding itself absentmindedly, long into the night.

Hyunjin has had his fair share of compliments, mostly pertaining to his face, and others to his craft. but it is you who seems to have sensed that a part of his soul resided in his art, that he left pieces of his heart hidden in the notes he composes and the lyrics he writes, hoping they’ll find soft hands that will take care of them, just like your own.

Five days later.

hyunjin [11:34 p.m.]: are you home?

yn [11:34 p.m.]: yeahh, do you need anything?

hyunjin [11:35 p.m.]: come downstairs, im waiting for youu

if you say no i’ll freeze to death..

hurry i can’t feel my fingers anymore (please please) ㅠㅠㅠ

“This better be a life and death situation Hwang Hyunjin,” you say threateningly as soon as you appear before Hyunjin, causing him to straighten up from the wall he was leaning against.

“It is a very dangerous life-altering situation that requires your immediate assistance, indeed,” he responds solemnly, ushering you gently to his car and opening the door for you.

“Which is?” you ask as soon as he settles inside the car and he simply grins at you, his left dimple coming forth like the very sun on a gloomy day.

“You’ll see.”

Hyunjin’s eyes fleet to your figure every now and then, but you do not seem to notice, your gaze lost into the blurring lights ahead. He can tell you're still not entirely yourself, so he was prepared to forcibly drag you along with him. He’s almost surprised you accepted to come down so easily.

“Is that… Seungmin?” you speak suddenly, pointing to a man waving in the distance, as Hyunjin parks his car near an empty field.

“And Changbin? And Minho?” you continue, squinting your eyes, “and a bonfire?” you giggle with a hint of excitement.

“You love s’mores during the winter, right?”

Hyunjin smiles, your soul softens.

“I do,” you say quietly, “I really do.”

You quickly exit the car, running into Seungmin's arms with a grin of disbelief plastered on your face. “This is insane,” you almost shout, squeezing him tight in a hug.

“It was so hard to find the perfect middle of nowhere for this,” Minho grumbles as you move to greet him, but the warmth of his embrace assures you he's only teasing.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile as you hug Changbin, who affectionately ruffles your hair. “It was Hyunjin’s idea,” he reveals, and you glance back at Hyunjin, who stands with his hands buried deep within his sweatpants behind you. You mouth a silent “thank you” to him, but he shakes his head modestly as if it is nothing to bring happiness to a bruised heart.

The night unfolds in endless laughter, with Minho and Hyunjin taking turns roasting marshmallows over the crackling bonfire, and Seungmin serving you hot coffee to keep your hands warm. Your stomach aches from the uncontrollable fits of giggles that overtook your being as Minho recounts the time he danced so vigorously on stage for his dance club that he ripped his pants, feeling a breeze where there shouldn't be one; and Changbin tells you the story of the time his voice cracked in the middle of a rap battle, and how none of the boys stopped teasing him about it for months to come.

And as the four of them take turns making you laugh, a quiet, tender realization dawns on you—you are loved. It is something he tried to convince you was impossible, that no one around truly cared for you but him. And even then, you weren’t deserving of his love whole, only scrapes of it, as if you were a beggar tugging at the outskirts of his heart.

But Hyunjin reminded you otherwise. And if your friends found something worthy of love within you then perhaps so will you again, one day.

“Did you have fun?” Hyunjin asks as he opens the door to his, your, apartment hours later. What he doesn't expect is for you to respond by wrapping your arms around his slender torso, squeezing tight in gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whisper and he nods, though you cannot see him, returning the embrace by wrapping his arms around your shoulder blades.

Hyunjin doesn't let go first, sensing that perhaps you need this hug more than he does. He smiles as your eyes meet his again, but his grin falters when he notices your gaze flickering towards your bedroom, a hint of unease clouding your expression. It's as if behind that door lie monsters only you can grasp, wearing the faces of people you once knew, once loved.

“Wanna stay with me while I work on the song?”

“Last time I ended up sleeping on your bed,” you say a bit shamefully, recalling the morning you woke up to find yourself covered with a thick blanket that wasn’t there before, alone in Hyunjin's room.

“It's okay,” he shrugs, “I missed sleeping on the couch.”

You stare pointedly at him and he chuckles, “Fine, I did not miss it. But you needed the sleep, so it’s okay with me.”

“Fine,” you concede, though you did not need much convincing for it. “But only if you promise you’ll wake me up if I end up falling asleep again.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, thinking to himself for a few seconds before shaking his head stubbornly, a small pout drawn on his face, his eyes semi-closed. “No.”

“Hyunjin!”

“Nu-uh,” he insists, shaking his head once more as he walks back towards his room. “I'm waiting for you!”

“I'm not coming!”

But you do eventually join him, after changing your clothes and washing your face. You find Hyunjin clad in beige and white checkered pajamas, his glasses pushing back his silky hair as he hunches over his journal, scribbling away before erasing what he wrote.

“Struggling with lyrics?” you ask, leaning against the wall and he startles. “Do you float on the ground? Why can I never hear you come in?”

“Or maybe you just love being dramatic,” you sing-song, laying atop his bed, much more at ease than the previous night.

Hyunjin sticks his tongue out childishly in response, and you playfully mimic the gesture before both of you dissolve into happy giggles.

“Kind of,” he explains once you both settle down, “I have this specific feeling in mind that I need to convey.”

“You'll do well,” you reassure softly, “your lyrics are always so beautiful. Remember Cover me?” you smile and he scratches the back of his ear, a shy grin spreading across his face.

“You still listen to it?” he asks and you nod eagerly, attempting to belt into Seungmin’s ending high note. You fail horribly and Hyunjin throws a crumpled piece of paper on your face to get you to stop singing.

“My poor ears,” he laughs loudly, and you retaliate by throwing back a pillow on his head.

“You just don’t get my artistic abilities.”

“I’d get them more if you stayed silent.”

You gasp, faking offense as you stand up to tickle Hyunjin on his chair, he starts squirming immediately, his loud giggles spilling all over the room, coating it in vibrant hues of happiness, and you’re suddenly captivated by the sight of him— his head thrown back, a golden lock framing his laughter-filled eyes, his top lowering slightly to reveal glimpses of his collarbones and the delicate veins that trace enticing paths on his neck.

You pause, your hand hovering over the side of his stomach, as a long-forgotten warmth spreads through your heart, like the first rays of dawn greeting the earth after a long winter night. It doesn’t diffuse quickly through your being, but rather drapes like sticky honey on your veins, making you well aware of your growing blush, of how beautiful Hyunjin is in his joy.

“Never singing to you again,” you clear your throat, laying atop his bed once again, and quickly reaching for your phone, anything to avoid his eyes which rival the crescent moon outside his window.

Hours pass before a warm hand gently settles on your shoulder, rousing you from your slumber. Blinking away the fog of sleep, you find Hyunjin leaning over you, his grin wide and infectious. “Wake up,” he whispers, but you only groan, burying your face deeper into his pillow.

He doesn’t yield, taking hold of your wrist and guiding your drowsy figure upright, before wrapping the blanket snugly around your shoulders. Without a word, he leads you out onto his balcony, carefully putting his neon green beanie on your head to shield you from the cold.

“It’s snowing!” he smiles, and his excited tone manages to dissipate the fog in your mind. You blink repeatedly and soon enough, you too behold the fallen snowflakes, each one resembling a tiny speck of light bidding farewell to the sky to greet the earth.

“You missed the first snow so I didn’t want you to miss this one too,” he explains, and his thoughtfulness blankets you with a warmth that seeps into every crevice in your body, drips down your fingertips and makes the cold of 4 a.m. seem less harsh, less biting to the touch.

You don’t know how to say thank you, because those two words don’t encapsulate the depths of gratitude that you feel for Hyunjin. Because he is speaking to the person within you who still loves snow, the part buried underneath layers of dust from a ground heartbreak. But you still manage to hear him, and you squeeze his hand tightly, and he doesn’t let go until you finally do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Remembering has become easier for you these past two months— both the good and the bad. And each day, the scale tips towards one side or the other. Sometimes you recall the suffocation you felt with him, the feeling that no matter what you did you could never please him, that your hands were crafted to break rather than mend. And on those days your wound grows, it throbs and bleeds different emotions.

Sometimes it's anger— at him for treating your heart so carelessly as if you were a being devoid of feeling. And then at you— for staying, for giving him excuses and desperately searching for goodness within him, for the one redeeming quality that would convince you he was worth the pain.

And other days bring an excruciating sadness along, a weight that presses down upon you until you're paralyzed. Because you feel bad for yourself and for everything you went through. Because you’re unsure how to rise when unseen hands push you deeper into the abyss.

And on these days, Seungmin becomes your anchor. He buys your favorite food, skips classes with you, and takes you to your favorite gardens. He talks and he talks and you try your best to laugh because you do not wish to worry him more. It is enough to be your own burden, you do not wish to burden him too.

But when he drops you home, your facade slips away, the smile fading from your face as if it were never truly yours to wear. You are too tired to pretend so you don’t, and Hyunjin doesn’t let you, either. He brews you tea and orders takeout because he knows you lack the energy for cooking. He goes with you on walks and drapes you in pieces of his clothing— scarves and beanies and gloves because he knows you couldn’t care less about a cold when there is a frost coating your bones. He lets you sit in his room while he works on his songs, and while he paints. Sometimes you talk and often you don't need to. But he’s there. He's there with you.

But you also remember the good. You remember your movie night with the boys, Hyunjin building an entire fort for you, adorned with twinkling lights and the softest blankets. How you watched movies until 5 a.m. your bodies so closely huddled together that there was no room left for sadness.

You recall Hyunjin begging you to build a snowman with him at the crack of dawn, the two of you collapsing in fits of laughter as you threw snowballs at one another, your footsteps marking the fresh fallen snow.

You remember being so exhausted after one of your showers that you simply laid atop the couch, gaze fixed on the void, too drained to even untangle the knots in your hair. Yet, it is not the tiredness that you exactly recall, nor the salty tears you shed underneath the scorching water jet. But it is Hyunjin's tender hands as he brushed through your hair, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck, his knuckles ghosting over the slate of your shoulder. You remember whispering that it was a particularly hard day and Hyunjin understanding. You remember him watching many YouTube tutorials to prepare your favorite seaweed soup, only for it to end up being too salty. But you still ate it all, because he made it for you, to lift your wounded spirits. And that alone was enough for it to taste good.

You remember your heart hardening then softening again, breaking then stitching itself back together, closing off then blooming like flowers on the first day of spring. You remember smiling only to cry then smile again. And you remember liking snow, a bit more than you thought you would. Because Hyunjin was there, holding your trembling hand, steadying it enough for you to rewrite your memories with winter.

So, you want to say thank you.

You do not wish to spell it out, because there are too many things to thank Hyunjin for and too few words to do so. Instead, you drag him to the farmer’s market near your home, and you tell him to help you pick flowers.

“I could be in bed watching my favorite show and yet here I am bestowing you with my enchanting presence,” he sighs, not too modestly, as you both eye the array of colorful blooms.

“Okay, Shakespeare, are you done?” you roll your eyes, attempting your best to hide your grin.

“Done annoying you? Never. These are very pretty,” he adds, pointing to the white roses in full bloom, their delicate petals emitting a sweet fragrance into the air.

“I agree, what else should we add?” you ponder, picking out four roses.

“Mm, Hibiscus? The red in the center is so vibrant,” he suggests, taking out his phone to capture the flower.

“Cute. Baby breath’s would look good too,” you say as you gather the flowers, heading to the cashier with Hyunjin trailing behind, still admiring the delicate blooms.

“Can I write a note?” you ask the middle-aged man as he wraps the bouquet in a powder blue paper.

“Sure,” he replies with a smile, and you return the gesture, quickly jotting down your words.

“Are you done?” Hyunjin grins when you return to his side and you nod, exiting the flower shop.

“What do you think?” you ask, angling the bouquet towards him.

“It's beautiful.”

“It’s yours,” you smile, growing shier at the intensity of his gaze as it lands on you, then the flowers, then on you again. “Take it,” you hand it to him, your cheeks flushing like the hibiscus’s crimson core.

“Actually?” he says softly, his fingers trembling slightly as he accepts the flowers and you nod in response. You bite your lip as you watch him take out the note, his eyes softening once he reads the words inscribed in it— thank you for making my winter less cold.

“Should we go?” you say a tad too cheerfully, turning away, but Hyunjin grabs your wrist, spinning you around once more. His fingers trail up your arm, coming to rest gently on your cheek as he leans down to plant a tender kiss there.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. You think that if his soft lips grace your skin a few times more, your nerve endings might forget the harshness they were subjected to. If his gentle hands remain on your cheeks, then maybe, your heart would heal quicker, better. Maybe your past self that you long for would emerge again, maybe Hyunjin would be able to unearth it.

Your hopeful thoughts disappear as quickly as they arrive, overshadowed by a sense of helplessness that crashes over you, all of the sudden. You sense him before you hear him, the familiar anxiety that is only synonymous with your ex’s presence.

“Yn?” the sound of your name feels harsher in his mouth, the syllables spat out rather than spoken tenderly, as they are when Hyunjin pronounces it. Your veins run cold as his voice pierces the air, your heart skipping three beats at once before plummeting to your knees. You wrap your hand around Hyunjin’s forearm instinctively, and he looks down at you, his expression morphing into one of concern.

You’re unsure of what he sees in you— whether it is your pale face, the quiver of your lower lip, or the fear that has coated all your features— but his eyes harden, his brows furrowing as he gazes at the man behind you.

You refuse to turn around, bracing yourself for his next words. “Yn,” he repeats his tone laced with anger, his fingertips grazing your arm as if intending to force you to face him. But before he can touch you, Hyunjin intervenes, swiftly stepping in between you and your ex, shielding you with his own body protectively.

“Leave,” Hyunjin's voice is cold, dripping with a venomous edge you've never heard from him before, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury.

“Is this your new shiny toy, Yn?” your ex taunts and his voice cuts through your being against your will, triggering a flood of memories you've tried so desperately to suppress. Memories of his cruelty, his manipulation, and the pain he inflicted upon you—using your love as a weapon to bolster his own ego.

“What's in it for you?” you find your voice again, though it trembles when you speak. He is the very embodiment of your pain and everything you loathe about yourself. You wish for the ground to swallow you whole, for a bolt of lightning to strike the earth, anything to spare you from facing him.

“It's only been three months, I didn't know you were a whore.”

Hyunjin's fist connects with his cheek before you can register his words. It all unfolds so rapidly that you barely have time to comprehend it. Your ex staggers back, blood trickling from the cut on his lip, while Hyunjin stands before you, his chest heaving with restrained anger, his right hand clenched into a fist, the bouquet still held tightly in the other.

“Fine, I deserved it,” your ex chuckles, his voice laced with mockery as he wipes the blood from his lip. His gaze meets yours briefly behind Hyunjin's back.

“You might not be a whore but you are unlovable, keep that in mind.” He spits out before walking away, crude words that tear at every scab covering your wounds, reopening them with a brutal force. Hyunjin moves to follow him, but you grab his shirt, pulling him back.

“He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Your words seem to snap Hyunjin out of his haze as he turns to look at you, worry cast across his figure. He moves to cradle your cheeks but you step back, refusing to meet his eyes. He swallows thickly, clutching the bouquet in his hands. “Are you okay?”

You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping as you shake your head slightly. “Let's just go home,” you whisper, eyes fleeting to his for a split second. All the lights in your gaze are muted.

You’re crumbling before him once again and he cannot stop it, no matter how much he yearns to.

It's long past midnight when you find yourself seated on the floor of your living room, a bottle of red wine placed between you and Hyunjin. You exchange it wordlessly, taking turns sipping from it, the alcohol warming your insides but doing little to ease the ache in your heart. You don’t exactly recall when Hyunjin sat next to you, but you don’t mind. You were too lost in your own thoughts to even register his presence.

“Yn,” he calls out softly and you hum absentmindedly, memories of when your ex spoke your name haunting you, each time he yelled your name, uttered it in disdain as if it was the starting point of everything wrong with you.

“Talk to me, please?” he pleads, angling his body towards your own. But you refuse to meet his eyes and Hyunjin’s heart twists in his chest. He is afraid of all the ugly thoughts that must roam your mind. He wishes he could enter it, open the windows wide, and usher the light in.

“I'm sorry you were dragged into this,” you say, your gaze fixated on the bouquet placed atop the table. The crimson painted on the hibiscus’ petals reminds you of the blood that spilled from your ex’s mouth, and your gaze fleets to Hyunjin's hand, slightly bruised from the punch.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, “there is nothing to be sorry for.”

It’s as though you don’t hear him, your fingers trailing gently across his scraped knuckles, tears pooling in your eyes the more you stare at his hand.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, voice thick with emotion, and Hyunjin’s quick to shake his head. “No, don’t worry about it. He deserved it.”

“You didn’t deserve to be hurt.”

“Neither did you.”

Your disbelieving scoff that follows scares him. What if you’re slipping away into a dark place yet again, one void and barricaded, in which the only sound that echoes is your ex’s hurtful words? What if he can’t reach you again?

“If the only person I’ve ever loved says I’m unlovable then maybe I am.”

You’re drunk, you wouldn’t have said such an ugly thing otherwise, wouldn’t have allowed this sentiment to materialize into the air, to take a tangible form apart from your abstract thoughts.

“No,” Hyunjin says in a panic as though he’s trying to quickly pull the brakes on your free-railing thoughts. He cups your face between his palms, your tears falling freely atop his hands but he does not move away.

“No,” he repeats, more calmly this time. “How he treated you is a reflection of who he is. And how you see him is a reflection of who you are. And you wanted him to be loving because you’re full of love. You wanted him to be good because you are a good person. And he can’t stomach that, can’t stomach that you are happy without him so he’s trying to ruin you again.”

“Hyunjin…” you shake your head but he only inches closer to you, his thumbs gently caressing your cheekbones. “No, listen to me. Seungmin loves you so much he couldn’t eat properly for the first few days you stayed here, texted me all the time asking me how you were and if you were feeling better. He isn't good with words so instead he tries to make you laugh. He wishes he could give up parts of his happiness for you.”

A sob swells within you but Hyunjin presses on. “And Minho, he tried to memorize all your favorite recipes so he could cook them for you. It isn’t a coincidence that every time we go over to their dorm it is your favorite food that we eat. He takes more pictures of his cats these days so he could send them to you because he knows it cheers you up.”

“You told me Changbin doesn’t know you well enough to fight for you but when we saw your ex across the campus one day he wanted to get up and beat him. He always asks me if you are well and if there is something he can do for you, anything.”

He inhales deeply, tears welling up in his eyes as well. “And me…” a tender smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, “you make this house a home. I feel like my true self when you are around and loneliness doesn’t come to me as often as it did. Because you are here. You are like a beam of sunlight that lightens up every life you touch, mine first,” he’s baring his soul to you, vulnerable yet resolute. “So tell me, Yn, what’s not to love in you when you yourself are so full of love?”

“Hyune,” you speak the nickname for the first time, and Hyunjin’s heart thrashes achingly around his ribcage. “If you keep talking like this I might end up loving you,” you smile sadly at him as if it is a terrible thing to be loved by you.

“But I don’t want to love you, because I won’t know how to, not anymore. So I'll end up leaving. And I'll long for you, and I don't think I can stomach longing for you from afar.”

“So please,” you place one hand atop his own, wipe away the lone tear rolling down his cheek. “Don’t make me love you, hm? You deserve more than to be loved by someone like me.”

You leave Hyunjin in the living room, alone before the white flowers you gifted him. He doesn’t want to put them away in a vase, for as soon as he grabbed them from your hold, everything around you both crumbled. So he leaves them there for the night, the creamy white petals aglow underneath the moonlight. He spends the night painting the bouquet from memory, but the petals end up too tinged with red, perhaps mirroring the blood his heart refuses to stop spilling still.

He did not realize it before, maybe he blinded himself so he wouldn’t see what was before him all along. But it is all the clearer to him now— that in his attempts to make you love winter again, Hyunjin only ended up loving you.

A week later.

hyune [1:25 a.m.]: i miss you

You and Hyunjin spent the last seven days avoiding one another, well you more than him. He just understood your silent plea when you took a step back the one time he tried to talk to you in the kitchen, swallowing thickly before inching away, allowing you to move past him.

You did not know how to face him after what he said, partly because you were embarrassed by your own response, mostly because even in your drunken daze, his words etched themselves permanently into your memory.

It is his reassuring words that echoed in your brain for the past week, not those of your ex.

hyune [1: 26 a.m.]: and i miss sleeping on the couch

You giggle, shaking your head before replying.

yn [1:26 a.m.]: no you don’t

hyune [1:26 a.m.]: no i don’t ㅠㅠ

but i finished the song

wanna hear?

Walking to Hyunjin’s room feels as familiar as going into your own. And when your gaze finally meets his you can’t help but break into a relieved smile. It was foolish of you to punish yourself, enough people have done that for you already.

“Hey,” he greets tentatively, and you respond with an awkward wave, a moment pregnant with anticipation passes before both of you dissolve into laughter.

“What is this? Are we in middle school,” he teases and you giggle, settling comfortably on his bed once more.

“I know. We are so lame.”

“You are,” he corrects with a grin and you gasp, pretending to leave but he quickly catches your hand, stopping you. “No, please stay. I meant it when I said that I missed you,” he repeats quietly, as if afraid that his confession would make you run away once again.

Your heart aches, the knots in your stomach tightening and unraveling all at once. “I missed you too,” you admit softly, and he smiles, his thumb tracing a gentle path above your pulse before releasing your hand.

“So it's done then?” you ask and he nods, running a hand through his hair with a hint of anxiety. “How do you feel about it?”

“Good. I hope you’ll like it, mostly.”

“I'm sure I will,” you reassure him with a soft smile, and he nods once more, pressing a few buttons before his melodious whistles fill the air once again.

Nothing could have braced you for the sound of Hyunjin's voice that followed, its timbre soft as silk yet imbued with profound sorrow. It's as though he recorded the song on one of his loneliest nights, his honeyed vocals dipped in an excruciating nostalgia that seeps into every corner of the room, every corner of your heart.

In the faded photo, I come across a smile spread across a youthful face, overlapped with the seasons.

Your gaze flickers to Hyunjin as a shadow of recollection dawns on you. You remember telling him that you couldn’t stomach looking at pics of your past, ones in which you smiled so freely because you were blissfully unaware of what was to come.

The night’s so cold that it’s almost unreal.

Because you weren’t aware of the winter that will follow and the biting cold that it would bear, for everything that will go astray in your relationship, for your ex's facade to crack like a glacier succumbing to the pressure of lies and pretense.

I wake up in another silence, and I close my eyes.

You remember Hyunjin confessing that silence haunted him more than words ever could, and you had agreed, sharing how sometimes you shut your eyes, pretending that the reality you woke up to wasn't the one you were living.

The white flower we planted together has bloomed. I do not dare pick it. Now it withers away.

You gaze at the white flowers you brought him, now wilted in the vase placed on his desk, yet Hyunjin refuses to throw them still. You see the card you wrote for him hung on the wall, right next to the dried red rose. He kept it. Though it withered, he kept it all.

So I long for you. And I long for you. And I'll long for you.

You remember the longing you both spoke of, how he understood a feeling you felt so incredibly alone in. How he tried to reassure you when he too was caught in the webs of the past. How you longed for him in the past week. How you wished he longed for you just the same.

So I can keep loving you. So I could be loving you. And morе.

The violin swells and so does the emotion in your chest. You remember him asking you ‘What’s not to love in you’ and how you've spun those words in your thoughts ever since. You remember thinking that if he gave you a few more weeks, just a bit more time, you might have found it in you to believe them.

You see Hyunjin’s glimmering eyes holding yours, you see his heart atop a platter handed to you, and you see the resignation in his being. Don’t make me love you, you told him. You didn’t dare to tell him not to love you in return, deemed it too foolish of thought to entertain.

For he was Hwang Hyunjin, the quiet producer who paints in his free time and who wears his heart on his sleeve. Who remains hopeful, loving, and tender, despite the thorns pricking at his side. Who is beautiful, so much so that he allowed you to see beauty in the universe once again, through his eyes.

How could he love you?

How could you not love him?

“The song,” you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips as you stand, trembling, on your feet. Hyunjin rises too, meeting you in the center of his room.

“It is about you. For you,” he says simply as if his words don’t cause your world to burst at the seams only to mend itself once again, too eager to fix itself and exist in the same timeline as Hyunjin.

“I don't… I don’t know what to say,” you say earnestly, feeling your heart pound in your chest, its beats resounding loudly in your ears.

It is wrong of you to assume he wishes you to say something. He is Hyunjin, the one who finds words in your silences too, after all.

“I don’t need you to say anything,” he shakes his head, taking another step closer to you. “I don't want an answer, I don't wish to pressure you. I just wanted to tell you that my love is here, it is yours to take or to leave, to cherish or to discard. But it is yours, because this is who I am. I am someone who loves you.”

“So do not tell me to forget you because I don't know how to. And don’t tell me that you’ll leave because I will love you still, because you’d still be you, near or far, you are you. And you are someone I long for.” He pauses, his voice softening. “And I long for you, Yn, more than anything I've ever longed for. And I've spent all my life longing.”

His lips meet your forehead tenderly, and you feel your entire being grow limp at the chaste kiss, as if your limbs wish to liquefy and form a puddle on the floor. His touch is soft, and you miss it the moment he parts from you.

“There must be something in this room that keeps on making you cry,” he smiles and you bring your hands to your damp cheeks, surprised to find there tears you didn’t realize had fallen.

“It’s you,” you pinch his arm playfully and he squirms away from your hold, stabbing his toe on the desk in the process. A loud fuck echoes around the room, and your laughter dissipates the tension clinging into the air.

“Can you play it again?” you request softly and Hyunjin’s theatrics fade as a shy smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Is it good?”

“It's everything to me.”

“It's called ‘long for you’, by the way.”

“Long for you,” you repeat quietly. There has never been a prettier combination of words.

The title all but makes sense as you lay on the bed, your gaze fixed on the paintings hung on the wall, Hyunjin sketching quietly on his desk, the song resonating softly in the background. You've longed for many things in your life—the person you once were and the tender love you once craved—but amidst it all, nothing has weighed heavier on your heart than the longing for the man sitting just two meters away, almost in your loving grasp. Almost.

❁ ❁ ❁

It is an excruciating five days that Hyunjin spends apart from you, the both of you too caught up in your assignments to find a moment to properly speak. But you do not shy away from him when he greets you, and your grin is kind as it drapes across his being, and Hyunjin swears he has never seen a prettier sight than you smiling.

On the sixth night, Hyunjin completes the cover for the song— a figure wrapped around itself protectively, mirroring the way you hug yourself in your sleep. He hangs it on the wall, right next to your thank you card and the white bouquet he drew once again, wishing to properly immortalize its beautiful flowers, to purify that memory from the tumult that followed it.

On the sixth night, the house is quiet, the full moon high up in the sky, snowflakes falling softly to the ground. Hyunjin wonders if you too mimicked the snow’s descent— both of you falling apart with it.

But then, there’s a knock on his door.

His heart catches in his throat, his body freezing as if it forgot how to move. You are here.

“Come in,” he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. You push the door open, and Hyunjin's words wilt on his tongue as he sees what you're carrying—another bouquet, filled with white flowers, yet again.

“Hey,” you smile, standing by the door.

He remains silent, unsure of what to say, or how to speak. He longs for you when you are away, even more so when you’re before him.

“We shouldn't let these white flowers wither away too, right?” you smile slightly, placing the bouquet on the desk before walking to Hyunjin’s bedside. His voice falters, vocal cords refusing to move and overshadow your voice.

You sit beside him, gently pulling his hand so that you’d both lie on the pillows. Your hand doesn’t leave his own, instead, it moves to rest on his cheek, reminiscent of the many times he had cradled your face before. Inch by inch, you close the gap between you, nuzzle the tip of your nose against his own. “Hi, Hyune”, you say softly, and he swallows thickly, his voice coming out just as quietly.

“Hi, my Yn.”

“If we take care of the white flowers together do you think they’ll survive a bit longer?” you ask, your gaze never wavering from his, countless stars twinkling in the depths of your irises.

“I believe so,” he says tentatively, too aware of the warmth of your palm against his skin, of the sweet ache unfurling within his being.

“Mm, and even if they wilt we can always buy new ones. We can learn how to care for them better, with time,” you say, and he nods in agreement, laying his hand atop your own, tilting his head to bestow a chaste kiss on your palm.

“With time,” he echoes softly and you smile, vulnerable yet secure in his gray sheets, in his hold.

“Will you give me time too?” you ask, and Hyunjin reads in your eyes what you mean, understands in the shake of your voice the question you are too afraid to voice. Will he give you time to heal in order to love?

“As long as you need. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, pressing his forehead gently atop yours, and you both close your eyes, as a running warmth encloses you both, blooms a blush on both your cheeks.

His arms wrap around your back, drawing you close until your chests are pressed together, your head resting naturally in the curve of his neck. And it is long forgotten in your mind, all the nights you slept in this very bed alone. You feel safe, safe enough to long for love knowing that it patiently awaits you behind the door, once you find enough courage to turn the doorknob. You feel serene, as Hyunjin’s warm palms glide soothingly up and down your spine, as every muscle, every nerve, every atom in your being relaxes in his hold.

You are healing, slowly, with each fleeting second that passes in which Hyunjin’s heartbeat resounds within your chest, as its melody runs through your veins, melds with your own as if it was destined to be there all along. As you rest in Hyunjin, as you find a safe home within his soul to discard your worries at the doorstep and breathe.

“It did get better,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Hm?” He leans back to look at you, and he’s so beautiful, so tender as he gazes at you, you can’t help but trace the contours of his face with your fingers, hoping to commemorate him with your eyes, with your touch.

“You promised me it’ll get better, and it did,” you smile, as your legs further intertwine with his, and his rose perfume becomes an indelible mark on your skin. “Too bad I can't hit your pretty face now,” you joke and he giggles, tipping his head back.

He's so beautiful, body and soul, and he longs for you, you alone.

“But I can still do this,” you murmur before finally pressing your lips against his like a boat finally reaching the shore after months of sailing. You both exhale, in yearning, in relief, as your mouths move together in a slow, languid dance, his hand finding the pulse on your neck, yours settling atop his jaw.

He would kiss you again, this intimately, in the coming months, when your heart expands enough to contain the love Hyunjin deserves. He would kiss you again, when your past comes to haunt you, and healing sounds like an elusive myth you’d never encounter in your life.

And he would kiss you again, over the kitchen table and under the fridge’s light, in between paintings and in supermarket aisles, while picking flowers and watching the first snow.

He would kiss you, this tenderly, in the next winter, and the ones after it, as if his longing for you never wanes. Till blow three disappears from your memory, till all you remember is the love, the true one, the kind one, the soft one Hyunjin alone could have brought you.

[celesteleoves]

Could you do a todoroki oneshot/head cannons for him having a secrete crush on (y/n) and doing some cheesy confessions? Thanks a lot!!❤️🤍

“I LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL MY NAME.”

shoto todoroki x reader.

summary: shoto has developed a crush that even he himself doesn’t quite understand, so he’s hiding it. you however, have a small huge crush on him yourself aswell. hopefully he can confess!

warnings: mentions of the todoroki family, shoto being a little insecure, fluff with a SMALL tinge of angst! reader is as whipped as he is lol!

a/n: i decided to turn this into a little one shot. ty for requesting this ml! i really enjoy writing shoto and trying to understand his character (especially trying to interpret how he would do a confession lol!) enjoy!!!! pls send more requests. this is quite long i feel like :( i hope it’s to your liking!!!

—

“todoroki, have you ever wondered what it would be like to be in love?”

that was a sentence shoto didn’t think he’d have to answer at 10 am in the morning. yet here he is. standing very stiffly next to a happy momo who is helping him make breakfast for their classmates. the question certainly woke him up at this early time.

“not really.”

“oh come on! you know i’m not the type to push boundaries but are you sure?” momo looked at him in confusion, for a boy like shoto everyone would’ve thought love defintely came easily to him.

“i don’t think i have. please hand me the knife.”

momo sighed and passed him the knife before moving around the kitchen and grabbing the rest of the ingredients to finish up their meal.

——

the conversation with momo had been stuck in shoto’s head all throughout the day (it was currently 1 pm). he felt as though he answered her wrong. yet, how would he know a thing about love? romantic love. souls being practically tied to another. he didn’t know anything about it.

shoto felt uneasy facing emotions he never explored: love. It was like standing on a cliff's edge, peering into an unfamiliar abyss. His usually composed demeanor faltered as he grappled with the intensity of these new feelings. yet, despite his apprehension, a part of him was curious, cautiously reaching out to understand this uncharted territory.

from a young age, shoto learned he couldn't rely on his parents to model what real love looked like or how to navigate relationships. they weren't an example he could follow, leaving him uncertain and unguided in matters of the heart. that’s something shoto learnt at a young age, he couldn’t rely on his parents to show him what real love looks like.

he’s not very good at lying. thats also something shoto learnt at a young age. it baffles him how he has been able to hide his crush on you for this long.

you sat comfortably next to shoto, scrolling through your phone and peppering him with questions about the various foods you were discovering on your Pinterest feed.

“oh my gosh! did you know that strawberries are the most common fruit people use to confess their love?” you grinned like a child and turned your phone towards shoto who was already paying attention to your scrolling.

“oh wow, i didn’t know that.” shotos answer came out more nonchalant than he wanted and he winced, praying you wouldn’t be upset with him.

instead, you felt a warmth in your stomach at his words. excited to teach him more about strawberries, you leaned closer.

shotos breath hitched at the smell of your perfume engulfing his senses, he could practically see ever detail of your face. to the way you did your makeup all the way down to the necklace you wore that shoto had gifted you for your birthday.

the sight made shotos cheeks flushed as he took deep breaths. as of right now, shoto wished he would be more calm like he usually is.

damn it, hiding a crush is not easy.

little did either of you know, you were both thinking the same thing.

——

strawberries. the history of the strawberry dates back to Ancient Rome where the fruit was considered the symbol of Venus, the goddess of love, because of its red color and enticing taste.

shoto had been sitting in his dorm for hours looking up facts about strawberries.

he gently placed his phone down and pondered. does the kitchen have strawberries? or would he have to go buy some?

“i’ll check the kitchen.” he mumbled, hurriedly making his way there.

upon his arrival, he realized everyone seemed to be also chilling in their dorms. it was only 5 o’clock and a free day for his classmates to relax and catch up.

he searched the fridge, a deep frown settling on his face when he realized there were no strawberries.

shoto stared at the fridge for a couple minutes, debating what to do.

“shoto? is that you?” he jumped at the sound of the kitchen door creaking open but relaxed after realizing it was just you.

“sorry! didn’t mean to scare you. what are you looking for?” you moved towards him, stopping right behind him and peering over his shoulder to look at what the fridge might contain for him.

much to shotos dismay, it didn’t contain the one thing he wanted. the thing he craved however was just standing behind him.

“i want strawberries. do you want to come to the store with me to get some?” shoto peered back at you with the cutest look on his face. your heart clenched at his unintentional puppy eyes.

“yes! i mean- sure.” you stumbled over your words and he softly smiled, moving to grab his hoodie as you excitedly walked beside him, leaving the dorms and heading to the store.

the walk was calm, exactly what you needed but also despised. for months, it felt as if you had been left in the dark with shoto. it seems as though he’s keeping something from you.

selfishly, you really want to understand his sudden demeanour change. he’s almost softer, sweeter and very careful with you.

selfishly, shoto also wants to just run away and hide. he is not good at keeping secrets from you. this secret is something he knows would affect your friendship greatly. which is why he’s afraid.

“shoto. we’re here.” you spoke to him softly, the chill evening air makes you feel at peace next to him and shoto swears you glow as the afternoon sun hits the side of your face perfectly.

“i really want strawberries.” shoto said and you swore you almost let out a cackle at his blunt words, why did he need that fruit so badly?

“then let’s look!”

you two trudged to the fruit section of the store, analyzing which strawberries would be perfect.

“y/n, look at these ones.” shoto beckoned you over and you happily walked over to where he stood.

shoto had managed to find the most perfect strawberries you had never seen, they looked so perfect! (just like him) and you quickly nodded your head towards the cashier.

“hello! my my, what a lovely young couple you two are! did you know, strawberries are a symbol of love?” the cashier, a friendly middle aged women, spoke endearingly at you two.

“oh! we aren’t a-”

“thank you, m’aam.” shoto softly smiled at the lady and she grinned back, winking at you as you blushed.

“have a good one, you two!” the cashier waved as you two exited the store, you being too flustered to reply while shoto waved back at her.

his nerves began to get the best of him, his idea didn’t seem like it would work now. what if his perspective of love is wrong and he’s doing the opposite of what you think love is? the questions continued to plague his mind like a sick joke and taunt. his mind seemed to be his biggest enemy.

were you against the idea of dating him? you didn’t reply to the lady in the store. was it his scar? was it his personality? shoto suddenly really liked the idea of crawling into hole.

you moved towards a bench nearby, patting the seat next to you. you didn’t enjoy how quiet shoto had been. normally he would at least say a few words and you would be able to continue the conversation. shoto seemed speechless suddenly.

shoto stared at the batch of strawberries in his lap, grateful they were washed. he could eat them now with you.

he picked up what seemed like one singular strawberry that laid perfectly on top of the rest. as he picked the strawberry up, it revealed to be a double strawberry. (press on the text to learn more!)

“woah! a double strawberry, can we split it?” you spoke for the first time in a while and shoto felt his heart swoon, you wanted to share a strawberry with him?

shoto only nodded and split the strawberry for you two, a red hue very evident on his cheeks as he took a bite of the strawberry.

“you know, i’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while.”

shotos nerve racking words caused you to perk up in your seat as you quietly ate the strawberry, encouraging him to continue.

“um, strawberries mean love.” shoto mentally face palmed. that is not what he wanted to say!

you giggle, “i know sho! i told you that.”

silence overtook you two once again as you gave shoto a moment to think about his words, patiently nervously swinging your legs back and fourth beneath the bench.

“it is also said that if you spilt a double strawberry with someone, you two will fall in love.” shoto whispered those words as if they were forbidden.

your eyes widened and you let out a huff of laughter, trying to make humour of the situation incase he does but agree with your next words.

“and what happens if you’re already in love?”

shotos eyes bulged, he looked up from where he was staring at his feet nervously to make eye contact with you for the first time in a while.

the feeling of being nervous about what the other will say seems so intense, but once you're already in love, every word they utter becomes a symphony that warms your heart. you two felt that way each time the other spoke.

“then… the two will grow their relationship and be more than friends?” shoto asked shyly.

“yeah, that sounds about right.” you grinned, shuffling closer to shoto, finishing your strawberry as you place your head on his shoulder.

shoto smiled a toothy grin, silently applauding himself. his confession wasn’t as bad he thought it would be! strawberries really do symbolize love.

——

A/N: UM HI… i hope this was how you wanted it!!! i kinda got carried away… if you guys can’t tell i really like strawberries so i had to include them. please send tips for me to improve my writing and requests for not just mha, but jjk too!

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Obsessed with your blog! Can you write a Jason Todd x reader where it’s reader’s birthday and Jason doesn’t know until someone calls her saying happy birthday

Late Birthday

Jason Todd x Reader

wc: 0.7 K summary: Jason tries his best to be romantic warnings: fluff a/n: this is such a nice request but i couldn't really come up with anything bombastically nice😭😭 i hope this is still cute and nice and thank you for the request!!!!!!!

The day hadn‘t been too exciting or eventful, it was actually like every other day. Once Jason got home, he did his usual routine of slipping into comfortable clothes and join you in your warm bed. It had been as usual, being snuggled up on top of you, head resting on your chest while listening to your steady heartbeat.

He almost fell asleep on you before your phone suddenly buzzed alive, feeling the subtle movements of you reaching and answer the call. You put it on speaker without any other thoughts, getting spooked again as a loud voice chimes through.

»Good evening! It‘s one in the morning and your birthday, so I— «

You quickly put the call back on quiet, putting your phone against your ear as you listen to your best friend ramble off her birthday wishes to you. Jason only processes the words seconds later, lifting his head off your chest to watch you intently.

He doesn‘t take his eyes off of you, even after you hang up the call after saying some thanks to your best friend. You carefully put your phone back away, meeting his eyes again. Finally, he speaks up.

»It‘s your birthday?«

He sounds betrayed. Actually, even hurt at this point. It makes you feel guilty, rubbing his back lightly in attempt to keep him calm… or rather yourself.

You nod lightly in response, still afraid of his reaction. In all honesty, you even forgot it‘s your birthday in the first place and didn‘t plan on telling him either way. It didn‘t make sense to you, celebrating some day felt wasteful.

He sighs out softly and shifts off of you, pressing a small kiss against your forehead before getting off the bed completely.

»Wait, where are you going?«

You sit up, confused and getting a little nervous about his sudden action. Is he really this disappointed?

»Just remembered I have some business left to do. I‘ll be back in a sec.«

Jason answers back casually, flashing you a soft smile as he puts his jeans back on and leaves your room. You are left alone for now, laying back and decide to wait patiently and not worry about it.

As you‘re distracting yourself with your phone for a few minutes, you finally hear the keys jingle at the front door, slipping out of your bed to see Jason again. He appears inside, his back still to you while he takes his shoes off. Without wasting another second, he turns around and reveals the colourful boquet of flowers in his hand. A smaller plushie in his other hand, a charming grin written all over his face.

»Happy birthday.«

He huffs out with a small shrug, making you melt on spot. That sweet gesture is enough to make you fall for him even harder and make you overwhelmed with feelings. The next thing Jason sees is your flustered smile, then you rosy cheeks, and how you hug him tightly. He hugs you back as best as possible, hands still full with the boquet and plushie.

Of course, the flowers aren‘t world class or expensive, but flowers are still flowers. He probably sprinted to the closest gas station and searched for the sweetest thing he could think of, without being overbearing.

He didn‘t ask any questions on why you didn‘t tell him beforehand, considering he also has his reasons on keeping his birthday as secret as possible. The night ends up with you two drinking some wine together with a shitty movie on the TV, snuggled up under a blanket on the couch. The flowers rest in a vase on the coffee table, actually paying more attention to them than the movie.

It feels like the best birthday you‘ve ever had. Being together with Jason with some wine and cosy movie night is probably the best way to spend the night. The way his hand traces slow circles around your back, how soothing his breath feels against the top of your head. How domestic this feels like. Jason can‘t stop thinking about you during this moment. He isn‘t used to things feeling so domestic and loving, but he finds himself wishing this night won‘t end.

a/n: sorry for making this short, but i do have some things going on rn..... i'm starting to believe the fanfiction writers curse is real. hope you enjoyed it, the next few fics are going to be longer and more intersting! promise!!

←MASTERLIST

[miiyas]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MIYA !!

little birthday moments with him.

wc: 482, 401, post-ts, fluff, gn reader, may be ooc, slight proof read

ATSUMU MIYA loves his birthday. he’s very vocal about it, bragging to everyone about how he gets to have osamus homemade vanilla-yuzu cake and how he was going to get absolutely wasted with him today. and as much as he loves all the attention and gifts, he also loves you.

everywhere he goes, there always would be a reference to you. your favorite drink, the restaurant you so desperately want to go to, favorite shopping brand, the bundle of smiski blind boxes atsumu always finds himself buying for you— everything reminds him of you.

now, despite his actions towards you, atsumu isn’t one for cheesy sentimentals. he thinks he’d rather suffer through sakusas earful lecture of cleaning his room and which sanitizing products are best for his shared home with you then admit that he’s soft for sweet affection and care. so when you give him his small birthday present after his actual party, he’s a caught a little off guard.

“savin’ best fer last, huh ? what’didya get me ?” he hums, leaning against the bed frame. he watches you crawl back atop of his waist, big hands coming to rest on your hips as you hold the small wrapped gift. it’s dark in your shared bedroom with the only source of light being from a lamp by your bedside.

atsumu almost reluctantly slips his hands off your sides and gently takes ahold of the present. it was no bigger than his palms, maybe a bit smaller, and it lacked weight. with sleep on his mind, the blonde carefully peels off the wrapping with blunt nails, tired eyes widening as he sees a small golden locket drop onto his stomach.

“it’s a keychain.” you whisper to him, picking it up and handing it back in his bigger hands.

“i wanted to get you a necklace so we can match, but i figured because of volleyball, you wouldn’t be able to wear it around as much.”

as you explain, you could see your boyfriends eyes prick up with tears ever so slightly which only engulfed panic in your system. the blonde brushes it of, telling you that he ‘ain’t cryin’ !’ and thumbs the tears away, opening the locket with a hand with a soft click.

“.. there’s nothin’ inside..” he mumbles, a little disappointed to not see your pretty face already displayed. that’s when you tug out your matching necklace already looped around your neck, opening it up to show its similar emptiness.

“i wanted to print stuff out with you tomorrow. y’know, i have your face on mine and—”

“i have yers on … mine.” atsumu finishes the sentence for you, his words a little drifted off as his thumb grazes along the intricate lines on the metal.

atsumu knows for a fact that he fell first and harder, and he can’t help but feel it happen all over again.

OSAMU MIYA doesn’t wish for a lot of things on his birthday.

the only few things he wishes for are for the prices of onigiri ingredients to go down, find a bigger mattress for the two of you, and maybe get sponsored by a good kitchen utensil company and get some free goods. other than that, he likes to think that he’s content with the things already given in life.

he also wishes for people to stop teasing him for taking the second slice of his own cake.

there’s been a small birthday ritual the twins had been doing since they were younger— to give the first and second slice they cut to the people they care about the most.

first slice would always and forever belong to their ma, no matter what. that much would never change. second slice normally was given to one another, but osamu had soon gone irritated with the fact that his brother would always purposely make him take the best slice, only to hand it off later. so overtime, osamu had began to claim the better slice for himself, saving it and giving the third slice to his twin.

he doesn’t think he’s being greedy, just reasonable and fair.

but after starting to date you, he subconsciously sees himself handing you the first bite to all his meals, sharing a bento box when normally he would glare at those who want a bite, and letting you enter the kitchen whenever he’s at work in it which is a surprise in itself.

so when greedy-glutton osamu hands you the second slice to his cake, you’re a little taken aback.

“.. want me to hold onto it for you ?”

you sit right beside him by the table and osamu shakes his head, sliding the plate closer in front of you. there’s a soft look behind his pretty hooded eyes that makes your ears burn red, the atmosphere around you growing quiet until it was just your boyfriend voice you could hear.

“i wan’cha ta have it.”

you blink, eyes wide as you watch your boyfriend continue to slice through the cake with his twin before handing the slice to one another. your lashes flutter as you look down at the plate, you realize how generous of an amount you had received.

osamu likes to say ‘i love you,’ but he loves to show it more.

[noellefan101]

Too Scared to Let Go(To Lose You)

Characters; Lynette, Navia, Xiao, Scaramouche, Lyney, Kaeya, La Signora x gn Reader

Summary; they wont let go of you, no matter what. They can't protect you from harm when they aren't there, so they hold you close to ensure you're there. they've already lost so much.

Warnings; angst, maybe a little bit yandere,

Notes; i did the obvious like xiao, scara, signora and stuff but if i make a part two ill maybe put someone like barbara or nilou in, but that would just be them having intrusive thoughts... probably. will add diluc and venti there as well dont worry, love you

Lynette

She always thinks that you're going to die at some point, get kidnapped or just straight up leave, these thoughts come up once every week or so. But when your out and about or just working late, her thoughts run faster than ever. Of course she has lyney and the rest of the house, but she's just gotten so used to being with both lyney and you now that it doesnt quite feel the same. So her solution is often to hug you as tight as she can when sleeping, hoping you wont disappear in the morning.

And of course you try and help her as much as you possibly can, reassuring her that you wont leave and that youll find a way to get back to her no matter what happens when out and about, but that sometimes just doesnt cut it.

She doesnt cry often, but when she does its a lot, tears streaming down her face for an hour or two, and even longer if you, Lyney and Freminet aren't there with her.

Navia

She cant let go of you in the morning, it was always like that, but it had gotten so much worse after the loss of her two beloved bodyguards. She often mumbles in her sleep about you and how she wants you to stay. Something along the lines of:

“no… no, don’t go, stay… please!! Just stay with me!”

“please stay… stay with me… where did you go… no, come back, please…”’

“[name]… please stay with me… please… just stay…”

You have to wake her up when it seems like she’s panicking and try your best to comfort her, but sometimes she just doesn’t get any sleep because she wants to make sure you don’t disappear while she is asleep. She is of course the same shining Navia when around other people like the Traveler and Paimon, but everyone can see that she doesn’t want to let go of you at all, fearing you’ll vanish if you leave her line of sight for even just a second, its like you’re glued to her.

If people ever see you, they know for a fact that Navia is also there, no matter what. Oh, you want to go over and wish your friend a happy birthday, well she can carry a gift for them with her so you don’t have to. You wanted to cook something but is missing one singular ingredient, you can you go get it together, don’t worry she isn’t putting back anything for it (she totally is, and has multiple offers and such she should be taking a look at rn).

Xiao

He says he shouldn’t be near you all the time, but doesn’t let go when you make him give in to his desires. He’ll hurt you, and you know that, so why are you still here with him. Wait, no, he isn’t trying to make you go away, please don’t, ever. He just cares about you enough to not want you getting hurt because of his karmic debt, he loves you too much to let that happen. But the thought of you leaving him fills his mind more than the karmic debt at times, he dreads it, the fact that you’ll leave eventually, he doesn’t care if its by choice or fate, just don’t. please, please, please don’t leave, just stay with him, please.

He doesn’t want to let go, but feels he needs to, you tell him its fine yet he feels like it isn’t. it feels like he’s hurting you every second of being with you, yet he doesn’t try to let go, he doesn’t even give the thought a chance. you say you’re fine, yet he feels like you’re not. He

feels like hes hurting you, he’s hurting more because of it. But then why does it hurt more without you, why, oh why. What have you done to him, just what did you do that made him so addicted to you. Swear you’ll never leave him ever, and he will do the same, as long as you’re here with him he swears he wont hurt you, he’ll break the karma in half for you, he’ll do anything. Just don’t leave him, please don’t.

Scaramouche

Everyone would say he’s too cocky, confident, and mean. But that’s all because he doesn’t let them see the vulnerable side of him, the leftovers of Kunikusuhi, the side he only shows to you. He shows you they way he cries at the mere thought you could leave him one day, he sobs in your chest as you comfort him and let him focus and anything but the nightmares haunting his being. He wont ever be like that with anyone that isn’t you, he doesn’t give a shit about them they can do whatever, but you have to stay.

He doesn’t care about all the others as long as you don’t leave him too, he doesn’t care about anything other than you. So please, please don’t leave him, ever, he would watch the world burn over and over again as long as he has you.

If you ever told anyone that the 6th harbinger, scaramouche, cries at night just because you left to go get a glass of water, they would call you crazy, say he’s never cried in his life that you must have seen things. But you know its true, and he does too, even if he doesn’t like to admit it. He knows you wont go, you always say you wont, but he just cant let himself to believe you, not when he’s been lied to so many times. He worries too much about you and he knows that, but how could he not, he loves you, and will never let you leave him because you love him too, right?

Lyney

Although he may be the confident, charming and romantic magician Lyney everyday in public, when he finally lets go of the role at home he’s nowhere near that. He cries just because he wanted to see you and he finally did, he worries about not being able to save you someday. He’s a worrywart to say the least

If you were gone for too long, whether on a mission from father or anything else really, he would not be calm at all until you come back. he would only be rather calm after he got a letter from you or in one of his shows where he put too many layers of masks on to hide it. he wants to think that your ok, just as Lynette say you are, you're strong. but he still cant help but worry,and he ends up panicked and stressed, without sleep, too tired to think sbout anything else other than you. dont leave him, he wouldnt survive without you.

That's why you cant leave him. hell lose his mind, and destroy everything around him in the process. he cant let you leave, so please, please don't. his heart is already fragile, it beats only for you now, so don't leave. don't leave. don't... please... please don't, he cant handle that. so, please, don't leave him, ever. stay right here with him, forever.

Kaeya

He doesnt remember his birth parents, he hates them but a little bit, but mostly because they left him, he cant handle thinking about them. and it only made his pain worse when he lost the people he called his family once again, so he cant afford to lose anything else, not when he feels completely at home once again. you are his home now, his family, and his joy. so don't leave or he might lose his mind and start ruining himself from the inside and out.

He loves you, a lot, you're his reason to continue in life. so if he ever sees you leave he would cry, even if all you are doing is leaving his office after giving him his lunch, he would shed a tear at the sight. his heart is fragile ok? He can't bear to lose his life once again, not after his parents left, not after his adoptive family left too.

Don't go, stay, stay right here with him and everything will be fine. i will all be fine, you trust him after all, and he won't let anyone touch you, let alone hurt you. you're safe here with him, don't worry about them, worry about him. you've got him wrapped around your finger without even knowing, you could want a certain sweet from Inazuma and he'll get it as fast as possible. you can get anything you want, ok? The only condition is that you stay right here with him, and only him.

La Signora

She swore she wasn’t going to fall for anyone after her first lover died, so why did she fall for you, how did she fall for you. Honestly you don’t know and she doesn’t either, she doesn’t know how you were able to melt her ice cold heart back to normal, even if only around you and you only, if anyone else is around it freezes back quicker than lightning can strike. She thought she wasn’t able to love again after he died, but you proved her wrong, so you can’t leave too. She cant deal with the death of her lover once again, so don’t leave her, ever.

You hug her in the night as she cries a little, mad at you for leaving her in her dream, but still not mad at you, as her anger is mostly to the world for doing this to her. But don’t worry, she’ll fall asleep eventually as she always does, she does need her beauty sleep after all. But that doesn’t mean she’ll wake up and easily let go again or just get out of bed, she’s stubborn and want you all for herself a little longer. She makes you talk a little as you carefully brush her hair like she taught you to do, and she relaxes a bit when you tell her you love her while kissing her head.

As long as you promise you wont leave her, and keep that promise, she’ll love you forever, she cant bare to see you go out the door even if its just for groceries, someone else can do that don’t worry. Just come and relax with her in a bath, she can wash your hair and you can wash hers. She’ll take care of you like you take care of her, just don’t leave, please. If you ever left her alone for too long she would freak out, she does everything with you, baths, shopping, paperwork even, so she cant bear to be left alone for longer than 30 minutes or she’ll panic. So don’t leave her please, please, please don’t, she’ll even beg for you to not leave her, just stay here with her.

Thank u for reading this, i know this took a long time and I havent posted things these few like weeks I think but I may have writers block(idk why I say it like that) and this was made over like a few months actually heh, luv ya

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[acehoons]

dating the zerobaseone boys . . ?!

☆! ot8 x gn!reader. fluff. not requested.

a/n: i didn’t include yujin bc i’m not comfortable in writing about him in a romantic way, since we have quite an age gap. hope u guys understand.

% . . kim jiwoong

this guy’s the most protective boyfriend to exist ever

is big on physical touch as a love language

always have to have his hands on you

on your waist, holding your hand, even gripping your thigh sometimes??? this man istg

more under the cut.

loves taking you out in dates

is a big restaurant man

i feel like jiwoong likes “traditional” dating

like taking you out for dinner, paying for your meal, walking you back home

i mean you deserve the best treatment so

he’s also big on surprises

if he gave matthew a bouquet on his birthday, imagine what he would give YOU, his s/o

likes to listen to you talk

let’s you ramble about your day for hours

he doesn’t really mind it, even if you think you’re annoying him with your rants

his favorite past time is to listen to you so

can read you like a book as well

takes him 0.1 seconds to know if and when you’re upset

would always try to calm you down by holding you in his arms

hates seeing you cry too

he sees one tear fall from those pretty eyes and he’s already on his way to soothe you

“what’s wrong, are you okay? please don’t cry.”

overall he’s a big softie for ya

% . . zhang hao

zhanghao’s definitely the type of bf that just loves to annoy you

teases you to no end

he just loves to elicit reactions from u, i feel like

but really, he’s incredibly caring

won’t hesitate to pamper you at any given time

he even calls you his prince(ss)

especially when you get sick

boy!! this man is never gonna leave your side when you’re ill

always tries to make time for you as well

even if he’s super busy, he’ll clear his schedule somewhat

even if it’s just for 20 minutes

is big on updating you throughout the day

you’d receive texts from time to time, just zhanghao telling you about his day

“we’re on our way to the company” “gyuvin fell on the stairs and landed on his butt lol” “dw he’s fine”

calls you at the randomest hours of the day to check up on you

likes to make sure you both are aware of eo every day

because he’s afraid of you drifting apart

his favorite dates are the spontaneous ones

like eating in a diner at one random night or going out for a convenience store run at 2 am

will always be there for you

doesn’t matter what you need

a hug? a new bag? 15 million won? someone to help you hide the body?

he’s there to provide

% . . sung hanbin

hanbin is a bf and a mother combined into one

is never not coddling you

always makes sure you’re taking care of yourself

and if you aren’t, he will >:(((

big on words of affirmation!!

but i feel like he’s the type to try and hit all of the love languages as much as he can

but yours (and by proxy, his) favorite is words of affirmation

bc he never fails to praise you and tell you how proud he is of you

the first time he said reassured you, you cried like a baby

and he cradled you like one, too

is there to comfort you at the speed of lightning

whenever you tell him that you aren’t feeling well, his priority is to ensure that you feel better asap

makes sure that you’re prioritizing your health over everything

sends photos at random times of the day

“babe we’re in busan! wish u were with us rn :(“

the two of you aren’t big on going out

so date nights would be spent with just the two of you cuddling on the couch and watching a movie

although you end up falling asleep halfway through

he secretly loves it

takes photos of you when you’re asleep and sets it as his lockscreen

tries his best to make homecooked meals for you

but if not he’ll just end up ordering takeout for you

he just wants to make sure that you are always happy, healthy and fed

% . . seok matthew

now this man is the definition of a golden retriever bf

is the happiest when you guys are together

loves to take you out on dates!!

library and park dates are his favorites

just anything involving the two of you walking around together

is also a clingy baby

is immediately sad when you guys separate

spends most of his days thinking about what the two of you could do together

likes to listen to music with you

makes you lots of playlists to listen to

is also the type to facetime you for a period of time

when you’d be studying and he’d be practicing his vocals

likes to ask you for advice as well

he thinks you’re one of the smartest people he knows so, it makes sense

is fond of sending you photos of things he sees that reminds him of you

“babe look! this goat looks just like u ㅋㅋ“

teases you sometimes, but not as much

is also big on cuddling

boy if you guys sleep together.. good luck

expect this man to cling on to you so much

he’d almost be laying on top of you

likes to bury his face in your neck

this might sound weird, but he loves your scent so much

not your perfume, but your natural scent

it reminds him of home, almost

because at the end of the day, he always comes home to you

% . . kim taerae

another sunshine boyfriend

he’s just always so smiley when you’re around

likes to take buy you flowers and chocolates

you’d put one of the flowers behind your ear and he’d take a photo

later you’d see it as his lockscreen on literally every gadget that he has

likes singing to you

but also likes to hear you sing

even if you think that you aren’t good, he just likes your voice

sends you snippets of him singing whenever he can

is big on quality time and acts of service i think

whenever you go out on dates, expect this man to do everything for you

even if it’s just to tie your shoe or to ask for a napkin in a restaurant

you are a prince(ss) to him. period

likes playing with your fingers whenever you hold hands

he does it a lot, especially whenever he’s nervous

like before a performance

having your hand in his calms him down a lot

can also be a little protective of you

he’s okay with you wearing anything you want when you go out,

but expect him to wrap his arms around your waist whenever he notices someone staring at you outside

incredibly whiny when you won’t give him what he wants

“babyyyy, i need one more kiss, c’mon!”

i mean, who can resist this man???

% . . shen quanrui

make way for our young and rich tall and handsome charisma boss baby

this man is going to SPOIL you rotten

obvi buying you material things isn’t an issue

he’ll get you the most expensive things even when you complain

you need a new bag? he’ll get a louis vuitton. you need some clothes? there’s a chanel store near his place. you want some food? expect some gourmet takeout

he just wants to provide you the things you deserve, even if they are expensive

but ricky doesn’t just spoil you with material objects

he’s big on assurance as well

always making sure that the two of you don’t end up in any disagreements and misunderstandings

the thought of you worrying about him worries him

always asks your opinion on things, too

about his clothes, his singing, dancing, etc.

sometimes he uses that as a way to get you things

he’s send you a photo of a necklace one day and ask,

“baby, what do you think of this necklace?”

you’d say it’s pretty and boom, next day he’s bought it for you

if he’s big on giving you expensive gifts, he’s big on receiving handmade ones from you

he loves everything you make for him

handwritten letters, crotched stuff animals, everything

he keeps all of them in a box in his closet

and if you ever buy him any piece of clothing or jewelry

expect him to always be wearing it

because in a way, it makes him feel like he’s carrying you with him wherever he goes

% . . kim gyuvin

boy.. good luck

you just got yourself a bf and a baby all in one

i’m jk, but we all know gyuvin’s a (literal) giant baby

likes to be coddled by you most especially

acts just like a little kid when he’s with you

but that’s only because he feels comfortable being with you

loves to watch movies with you!

at home or at the cinema, doesn’t matter

buys you lots of snacks. like. tons

it’s his love language; to feed you

likes to go to fun little events with you, like music festivals or fiestas

this boy has a social battery as big as a truck, so prepare yourself

introduces you to his friends a lot

and invites you to their hang outs

you end up being a part of their friend group, almost

and everyone loves you because you take really good care of gyuvin

although you make sure not to mother him too much, sometimes you just can't help it

you end up buying him things he needs or calling him at noon to make sure he's eaten his lunch

in compensation, gyuvin likes to make sure that you are always happy

would be the type to say a random joke or to even embarrass himself in public just to see you smile

"babe, babe, what do you call a fake noodle? an im-pasta!!"

it gives you a headache sometimes but you genuinely love it about gyuvin

how he always prioritizes your happiness,

sometimes even above his own

% . . park gunwook

another giant baby, oh boy

but unlike gyuvin, gunwook doesn't require much care actually

you just give him few hugs and cuddles and he's good to go

requires a lot of attention from you. like. all the time

if you guys are separated expect to receive dozens of messages and facetime requests from this man

always wants to talk to you during his breaks or whenever he isn't busy

and he always has a story to tell you

he's a little clueless when it comes to dating, given how young he is

so most of your dates just end with either the two of you hanging out at home

or just a simple late night walk around town together

however, he does like shopping with you

he's not as "giving" as ricky, but he's definitely one to buy you a few expensive pieces here and there

especially if he sees a pretty bracelet or a nice pair of earrings

loves to surprise you with them

he's big on physical touch as a reward

it's his motivation

"ok so if i finish my chores i can cuddle with you? alright, got it"

boom he's washed the dishes and mopped the floor and cleaned his desk table all in under 20 minutes

physically relaxes whenever he's with you

like he'd be tense whenever he's out in public, always wary of everything he says and does

but when he's with you, it's like all of his worries wash away

he loves you so much

to him, you are his comfort

acehoons © 2023

[yoonia]

🖋️ one your stories that sticks to me the most was the (im)perfect ending. I really wish to see how you visualize their lives after. will Joon ever find out about the baby? will they reunite again? what happens when they do🤭? will Joon finally get his head out of his a** and end his marriage and be true to his feelings 🧐 or will OC has her own happy ending with someone else🤔?

💌 I think other people have said this before, but you are an admirable person that I've ever met online. You've worked hard on your stories and have always given us a lot. even now, you choose to spread positivity and share gifts for others to celebrate your birthday and I think that's the sweetest thing anyone could ever do. happy belated birthday, Dia. You deserve so much happiness and a lot more. I hope your coffee is always hot and your pillow always warm. wishing you and all your precious kitties an abundance of health and joy 💝💝

omg I've been getting the same questions sent to me for this couple, so I guess this might be a good chance to provide some answers for those who have been waiting for it lol

I know that the last letter mentioned in the fic didn't specify how much OC shared about her baby, so I guess this is where we get to see what other things she sent with the letter for Namjoon. I hope you enjoy the snippet and the visualisation below!!

— title: Our Imperfections| pairings: Namjoon x female reader| genre: second chances!au, infidelity!au, post divorce/break-up!au, angst | word count: 1,410 words — summary | Namjoon is on a mission to fix the mess he created. — ratings & warnings | +18 / M for mature; talk about divorce and custody, post break-up, mentions of infidelity

— original: The (Im)perfect Ending by @yoonia — fic drop date: Oct 30th, 2024 — song companion: loved

“Don’t forget that you need to pick up Sunny early Saturday morning for her class camping trip.” 

Hearing her voice on the phone, clipped with orders, used to make Namjoon wince. Now he is used to it. Always so business-like, even when talking about their only child. 

“Did you get that?” 

Her voice returns when he doesn’t answer. He holds back from rolling his eyes and calmly answers. “Yeah, I got that. Saturday morning. Early.” 

His reaction isn’t the only thing he is holding back. Asking why six-year-olds would go on a camping trip might only end up with him getting a long lecture through the phone. He doesn’t have that much time to endure that. And having his ear burning from it is really the last thing he needs right now. 

“Right. I’ll text you the details.” A sigh, then, “Sunny also wants you to be the one to drive her to school Monday. So I’m packing up extra clothes for her to stay with you another night. Is that good?” 

Namjoon closes his eyes. As much as he loves having extra time with his daughter, having the child’s mother schedule their time for him without consulting him first rubs him the wrong way. If he doesn’t know any better, he would have thought that she keeps doing this as a payback. Causing trouble and brushing his ego for choosing to step out of their marriage—the marriage that she had worked so hard to paint as perfect for the world to see. 

But Namjoon knows better. 

He knows that she has always been this way. 

Even when they were still together, she always had to be the one running the show, while Namjoon would have to follow. She was the one holding the pen, writing the story for them through her rose-coloured glasses, while forcing him into a role that he never felt like he could fit into. 

At one point, it caused him to lose himself. 

Only that he realised it too late. Far too late, because it hadn’t just started when they got married, but long before—when they grew up together and being fed their parents’ beliefs that they would end up together once they turned adults; when they became teenagers and she insisted that it would only be right if they started dating to make their parents’ dreams come true and when she started planning their wedding day just when Namjoon was starting to find a chance to write his own story, to walk a different path, with a completely different person. 

It wasn’t until he was able to find his old self and feel like himself again through the mistakes he made when he finally found the courage to leave that life. Yet, once again, he was too late. 

Far too late. 

“Namjoon? Do you—” 

Her voice breaks him out of his wandering thoughts, only for her words to get drowned by the sound of the announcement blaring through the speakers above his head. 

“Attention, passengers on Flight 345 with service to Sydney. We are now beginning our boarding process at Gate 12B. Please…” 

The voice fades as passengers rush in front of him to find the departure gate, and Namjoon waits until the announcement stops before taking his palm off his phone. 

“Where are you? Are you on another business trip?” 

Namjoon almost laughs. He finds it hard to believe that after spending an entire fifteen minutes on call with him, she never thought about asking him where he was or where he was up to. 

Business as usual. Even when it’s about our new arrangement. 

“Australia. I just landed. That’s why I couldn’t take your call until now.” 

“Oh…” 

“You do realise the longer you’re on this call, the more expensive it will be, don’t you?” 

Silence, then her bitter voice is heard. “How was I supposed to know where you were?” 

You could have asked. 

Sighing, Namjoon shakes his head. “Look, just text or email me all the details about Sunny’s trip. I’ll be back in Seoul Friday afternoon. Okay?” 

“Okay.” Her voice softens. “Take care, Namjoon.” 

The call ends, and Namjoon breathes a heavy sigh. Feeling exhaustion after speaking to her is one thing, but once it wanes, guilt always seems to take root. It doesn’t matter if he had fallen out of love a long time ago. He cannot deny that he has made too many mistakes that he is still trying hard to make up for. His decision to stay in the marriage for Sunny, using her as an excuse to hang on to the final threads that were offered to him instead of stepping away from that fallen marriage, was his last, yet probably most detrimental for his own mental health and any chance he ever had to make things right for everyone. 

Including you. 

Hoisting his duffle bag on his shoulder, Namjoon walks across the airport’s lot to find his ride. There is a reason why he is here, and he isn’t going to stop until he finds what he is searching for. 

It takes him nearly an hour to reach his destination. 

The small coffee shop looks quite inconspicuous as it stands between various other shops downtown, yet it still catches Namjoon’s eyes the moment he arrives. 

Quaint and delicate, with natural wooden colours chosen as the accents at the front side of the shop and dark window frames, it reminds him so much of you. 

The sound of the bell chimes above his head as he steps in, immediately welcomed by the fresh scent of coffee beans, chocolate, and a bit of cinnamon. Spicy and sweet and pleasantly warm. A young boy with a thick Australian accent welcomes him from the cashier, yet his eyes travel across the room, where the figure that has been filling his dreams at night appears. 

Smiling at the young barista, he walks up towards you instead. You have yet to notice him in the room. Your eyes are locked on the small child sitting on the sofa by the corner, swinging his legs as he receives a small sip cup from your hands. 

His eyes find him first, looking over your shoulder while you still have your back facing Namjoon and the front door. 

“Now you sit tight right here until Mommy finishes work, okay? And don’t—”

“Mama?” the boy cuts you off before you can finish speaking, his chubby finger pointing towards Namjoon, “Da..?” 

Your body freezes. Namjoon hears a soft gasp before you straighten up and slowly turn to face him. The moment you see him standing there, your eyes grow wide and you quickly move to hide your son behind you. Only the child is quick, as he hops off the sofa to stand right behind you, clinging onto your legs as he peeks at Namjoon. 

A line which he read from your letter echoes in his mind as he returns the boy’s curious gaze, just as it does many nights after you were gone—

“I have a boy. He’s here. He might have a dimple on his cheek too that might show up once he’s grown a bit older. His name is…” 

Namjoon bends down. “Sammy, is it?” 

The boy, Sammy, slowly nods. Namjoon smiles. “You look handsome. You’re being a good boy to your Mommy now?” 

“Yea…” 

Chuckling softly, Namjoon straightens up to face you. Your eyes are covered with tears as you look back at him. “How—” you gasp, “What are you doing here?” 

Because I’ll chase you to the end of the world if I could. 

Those are the words that Namjoon has always wanted to say to you. A promise that he never got a chance to say before you left him. It was a mistake that he had been dreading the most when he first received your letter, along with a copy of your sonogram and your final word of goodbye. 

“Keeping a promise,” he merely says. “I think we have a lot to talk about.” 

A deep sigh escapes your lips. The sound pains him. But the sight of every tension being lifted from your shoulders gives him a sense of calm. 

“I guess we do,” you whisper to him with a broken smile. 

A lot of them. 

He can almost hear those words coming from you. Just like he almost says out loud,

I have all the time in the world to talk and listen now. For you. 

For your fall tune, I think this song will fit perfectly well for this.

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖉𝖊: dia’s birthday bash 2024 ⇝ closed!

[lilacliquors]

happy early birthday! what if it's reader's birthday and hughie and the others are trying to keep her party a surprise but reader thinks they forgot about it and butcher attempts to cheer her up in his own way? if you're not taking fic reqs that's fine too - but i hope you're having an excellent day and birthday to come! <33

a birthday surprise

pairing: (slight) billy butcher x reader, the boys x reader (platonic)

word count: 1116

notes: i loved this so much and also my friends forgot my birthday today so far so

it was strange. no one had been really talking to you much the last few weeks. they were brief conversations, pleasantries were exchanged, and every time to walked by, they would hurriedly stop whispering, though you swore you heard your name come up in conversation. yet, when you asked about it, m.m or hughie were often very quick to reassure you everything was okay. it puzzled you, and maybe even hurt your feelings slightly, but what could you do? you had hoped it would have stopped by your birthday, but that hope was fading, and fast.

the morning of your birthday, you woke up and reached for your phone. you had been hoping to get a few texts overnight from the more late owl-ish ones of the group, like frenchie or or annie, but there was nothing from either of them. of course, you replied to the well wishes from your other friends and family, the ones too far away for you to to be with, but your immediate friends, the family you had forged yourself, there was nothing from them so far. maybe you were just overthinking it, and everything was fine. that thought alone helped you get up out of one of the extra beds butcher had set up in the flatiron building, but when you went down to the main meeting room, no one was even around to greet you. you stood there quietly, just looking around the room, and your shoulders slumped. they hadn’t ever done this to you before, they’d never forgotten your birthday before … but you supposed there was a first time for everything.

sighing, you went to go make yourself a cup of coffee with one of the pods butcher kept near the coffee machine. and as your back was turned, you heard one of the doors open, then shut, and heavy footsteps came up behind you.

“oh good, someone’s finally awake,” billy said, and you merely glanced over your shoulder to look at him.

“oh, uh, yeah. i am,” you replied, then grabbed your ready coffee and added your milk and sugar to it. 

“everything all right?” he asked, and you shrugged your shoulders.

“sure, i guess so.”

“all right, don’t fuck around. tell me what’s bothering you.”

you sighed and sipped at your coffee, avoiding his gaze.

“it’s stupid,” you muttered, and he scoffed.

“could be. but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t share it.”

you thought for a moment, then shrugged again and looked up at him. when you did, he watched his expression change ever so slightly, his brows pinching together and his eyes narrowing a bit.

“so far, no one’s remembered my birthday. not even you, from the looks of it,” you said, and he went stiff for a second.

“nonsense, i didn’t forget,” he said, causing you to roll your eyes.

“you didn’t exactly come in wishing me a happy birthday, now did you?”

he couldn’t answer that, it was true. he came in with a few harmless jabs, but that wasn’t exactly what you wanted.

“i didn’t, you’re right. and … i’m sorry. here, let me make it up to you before i call up hughie and yell at him for this.” “no, don’t worry about it. it’s about time i just let go of the whole birthday thing anyways. probably getting too old for it.”

billy shook his head and set a gentle hand on your shoulder, which made you look up at him with a soft sigh.

“nonsense. go get ready, i’m taking you to lunch.”

***

you and butcher were sitting in a diner booth across from each other, eating and talking like two old friends. it was nice, relaxed, and great way to take your mind off of the sadness of earlier. your plates were both nearly cleaned, and you had a milkshake in front of you, something billy encouraged you to get.

“i’m buyin’, so treat yourself,” he had said, and you did so with a bit of hesitation. but overall, it was a nice afternoon out, and you were enjoying yourself. it was the best birthday lunch you’d had in a while, and you almost didn’t want it to end.

“almost time to head back. got lots of work to do,” billy said, and you nodded, using the straw in your glass to stir the last bits of ice cream and whipped cream around.

“i guess so. but thank you for this,” you said, looking up at him with a smile. “i had a really nice time with you.”

“it’s the least i can do. wasn’t exactly a gentleman about it this morning.”

you laughed as he paid the check, and then you left the diner together. you were in much better spirits as you walked down the sidewalk, and you gently nudged billy.

“thanks again. and … don’t yell at the others. i’m sure it was just an accident. we all have a lot going on these days,” you said.

“you sure? you know i don’t mind knocking their heads together every so often,” he said, and you nodded.

“i’m sure.”

you made it back to the flatiron building, and he let you inside first, holding the door open for you. then, you walked the flights of stairs together, and all was quiet. but this time, you weren’t bothered by it. when you made it to the final floor, the one with the group office, billy clapped you on the shoulder gently before pushing the door open.

“happy birthday, luv,” he said, and as you walked inside, everyone jumped out from behind the desks and couches in the room, yelling a synchronous ‘surprise!’.

“what the fuck!” you exclaimed, pressing a hand to your chest as billy came up behind you.

“you didn’t really think they forgot, did you?” he asked, and you turned to look up at him, with wide eyes.

“you knew?” you gasped.

“someone had to distract you long enough for these dickheads to decorate. the one thing they couldn’t manage on their own.”

“sorry we made you think otherwise,” hughie said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, and frenchie nodded, alongside m.m.

“with everything going on, it felt like a surprise party would be a good pick-me-up,” m.m explained, and you smiled a bit.

“well, i appreciate the thought. even if the day didn’t start out great, the second half was a lot better,” you said, glancing at billy, who offered a rare, genuine smile.

“enough sap, let’s get to the drinks,” he said, walking up beside you and setting an arm around your shoulders, leading you into the office, where you had the best party you’d ever had.

[zriasstuff]

Their love languages

Fluff drabbles of the Slytherin boys love languages x reader

Love languages are how one expresses their affection/love towards their romantic (or also platonic) partner. There’s physical touch, words of affirmation, gifting things, acts of service and quality time. This is my imagination of what each of the Slytherin boys would have as theirs :) (of course everyone can practice several but these are just what I imagine are their strong suits)

Mattheo Riddle:

Definitely physical touch, it makes him feel especially connected to you

Likes to cuddle when falling asleep and definitely won’t let go

Back hugs >>> you can recognize the way he tightly hugs you immediately at this point

When you’re out in public you can count on him always either holding your hand or having his arm around your waist, it shows that you are together and that he loves having you close to him

Tom Riddle:

Loves spending quality time with you because when it’s just you two he feels like he can be completely himself and have deep talks

He likes to plan small things that both of you would enjoy

Reads together with you by the fireplace and loves to exchange books, occasionally annotates his books for you to read afterwards (isn’t he just so dreamy besides the part of him being a psychopath )

Takes you to antique stores in hogsmead to show you his favorite things, he could spend hours with you wandering hidden or lost places knowing you’d both have the best time

Theodore Nott:

Is always down to do anything you wish, Theo’s is therefore acts of service <3

You being cold is not something that’ll ever fly under his radar, he will give you his jacket anytime, without you asking for it

Although he isn’t that good himself in class, he will always try to help you with things you couldn’t do on time

Surprisingly a good cook, makes you authentic pasta dishes or just food you crave to make you happy- dinner dates are therefore also amazing

Blaise Zabini:

Not only is he a good friend (actually that’s kinda canon, like I think he’s pretty good to Malfoy) but also a great boyfriend who will reassure you all the time, so his is words of affirmation

Always knows how to comfort you when you’re feeling down

Anytime you look good, he will hype you up and make you feel like the queen you are

He is you’re biggest supporter always, and you can count on him believing in you which is such a important factor in a relationship

A guy that can actually talk about emotions without feeling “too feminine”

Enzo Berkshire:

In a world of boys he’s a gentleman, aka acts of service

Will do anything to make your life easier, as he thinks you shouldn’t have to worry about stressful daily chores nor just the basic things

Carries your bag and books, opens all doors obviously, gives you his jacket

When he’s in your dorm, he likes to clean and make it look nice for you- even buys you new decor sometimes to make it nicer

Say you’re in insufferable heels? Man will go down, take them off for you and carry you :)

Draco Malfoy:

He screams gift giving, showering you with all the lavish things he can possibly give you, just to make you feel happy

Of course you like him beyond his money, but with it comes luxury too and who doesn’t like that

Sometimes he just gives you small things during the week like jewelry or flowers, but he goes all out on big gifts when it’s a special day

Random headcanon: he gave you a freaking cat for your birthday because you’ve always found them cute, and you two then took care of it together

He’s great at making personal gifts too, like creating or having something made to remember a certain pleasant memory you both share

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Mira congrats on your milestone!! I wish I was good at coming up with requests… hmm… do you ever get more ideas for pomegranate ink? Maybe a scene of them much later in the future? I loved that fic so much ☹️ I hope they’re happy and living a super fluffy adorable life after all they went thru 💔 (can you tell I’m still heartbroken over JJK leaks) - @yutaleks

── CLOUDS

Synopsis: A snapshot of your life with Yuta Okkotsu, some time after the events of Pomegranate Ink.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.9k

Content Warnings: hurt/comfort, kind of angsty, yuta is insecure, yuta is fundamentally different because of what he did for reader, spoilers for the ending of my ultra mega long fic pomegranate ink (which you all should definitely read)

A/N: on this blog we pretend like the jjk manga doesn’t exist and pomegranate ink is canon LMAO 😭 i haven’t thought much about what y/n + yuta’s life after the main story would look like hence why this is so short, but aleks i hope this heals your yuta-loving soul a bit!! ty for requesting and also being like. my first tumblr follower ever i’m pretty sure 🥹🫶🏻

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

Yuta was rubbing his eyes again. He did so frequently — it was a new habit he had picked up, ever since that final battle against Sukuna. They itched sometimes, he told you, because they were trying to see something they no longer could.

Ever since he had brought you back to life, Yuta had been a normal human. Like Maki, he couldn’t see curses, but unlike her, he couldn’t even sense them, their presences nor their effects. His movements were dulled and slow, and he was far clumsier than he used to be. You knew it frustrated him, the blindness, the childish tripping over his own feet when he was so used to having a sleek body that possessed the grace of a jungle cat.

It wasn’t just his cursed energy that had been depleted. His strength, too, was all but gone. His hands shook when he tried to hold his katana, and although he once was able to carry you around effortlessly, it was now a struggle for him to lift you even a few inches off of the ground for more than a couple of seconds. 

He had given up everything for you. You hadn’t understood the magnitude of it until you saw it in action — he was so prone to downplaying his suffering that you all had dismissed it at first. So what if he couldn’t see curses or use his technique anymore? That only meant he was safer.

But giving up a cursed technique was something unprecedented and new. None of you could have been prepared for what it would do to him. Ieri’s theory was this: because a cursed technique was engraved onto one’s brain and soul, the loss of that energy would immeasurably alter one, had immeasurably altered Yuta, permanently.

Once, his memory had been nearly photographic. Now, he was forgetful, requiring reminders about birthdays and anniversaries and appointments. He no longer seemed so deadly, either — there had always been a malevolent aura following him, a sort of viciousness to his otherwise-kind demeanor that made him so frightening, but now, he was so unassuming and gentle that it was impossible to imagine anyone cowering from him like they all used to.

His eyes bore the most significant shift. They used to be a blue like poison, sharp and dark and predatory in an uncanny way, but now, they were faded and gray, sensitive to the sun and entirely unable to see the world to which they had once belonged. He blinked a lot more, too, and Ieri suspected he might need glasses in the near future — not to see curses in specific, but just to be able to see at all.

“Stop that,” you said, pulling his hands away from his eyes before he could turn them bloodshot. “Ieri said it’s not good for you.”

“Sorry,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut so that the momentary pressure could relieve the discomfort. Resting your palms against his temples, you used your thumbs to soothe over his eyelids, kissing his forehead as you did so. “I’m sorry you have to take care of me. You’re the one who just came back from a mission.”

“It’s okay, Yuta. I don’t mind. It wasn’t a particularly difficult assignment; any curses left have gotten so weak that even an untrained first year could take them on and win. We should finish the clean-up job within the year,” you said.

“I should be out there, too,” he said. “I should be able to help. Maki can do it without a cursed technique, so there’s no reason for me to be like this.”

“Maki has a Heavenly Restriction. It’s a bit different than not having a technique or any cursed energy at all,” you said, as gently as possible. It was difficult for Yuta, who preferred shouldering the world’s burdens on his own, to sit back and watch as the rest of you fought and he stayed behind. Maki, Toge, Yuji…even Noritoshi and Elakshi had returned from their trip abroad to help in your efforts. Every remaining sorcerer had dedicated themselves to the cause, so that you could eradicate the remaining curses and then move on with your lives.

But Yuta Okkotsu was no longer a sorcerer. He was a normal person, and normal people had no place facing off against curses, especially when they could not so much as see them. In this manner, he was weaker than even your mother, who as of late had dedicated herself to running a charity caring for the displaced survivors of the Shibuya and Shinjuku incidents.

“I was the second strongest sorcerer in the world,” he said. “Now I’m nothing. I swore I would always protect you, and I can’t even do that anymore. You’re the one who has to look out for me.”

“You brought me back to life,” you said. “There’s nothing greater that you could do for me than that.”

He wrapped his arms around your midsection, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse. It was another new habit of his — now that he could not use cursed signature detection to constantly be aware of your continued existence, he had developed an obsession with feeling your heartbeat, that steady rhythm which reassured him that you were still alive.

“Do you resent me?” he said.

“Why would I resent you?” you said, running your fingers through his silky hair. “Yuta, what could you possibly have done that would make me resent you?”

“When you brought me back to life, you were unchanged. You didn’t become weak; if anything, it made you stronger. It wasn’t like that for me. Don’t you find me pitiful? I couldn’t even resurrect you properly. I had to give up so much to do it. You must find it humorous,” he said. “You must think of me as some half-rate sorcerer.”

“Of course not,” you said. “What you did was ten times as impressive as what I did. I had Rika helping me, and your own natural Reverse Cursed Technique, and of course the heightened emotions which fueled Composition. Beyond that, Composition as a Reverse Cursed Technique was designed for such feats. You had none of those advantages, and yet you still brought me back. That’s not half-rate; that’s the kind of thing that only happens in myths and fairytales.”

Something scalding splashed against your skin, and then you realized that his body was shaking in your embrace. He was sobbing, clinging onto you in a rare display of weakness. Yuta hated falling apart, and he hated falling apart in front of others even more, yet here he was, doing just that. He always told you that he was supposed to be the one that others relied on. He wasn’t supposed to be the one that crumbled, but of course, no one could say strong forever.

“Do you still love me?” he said. If he had held you like this a year ago, then his grip would have crushed you, but now, it was you who had to be careful with your power, with his softer body. “Y/N, do you still love me?”

“Yes, how could you question that?” you said. “I love more than anyone.”

“You loved Yuta Okkotsu,” he whimpered. “Yuta Okkotsu, special-grade sorcerer. Yuta Okkotsu, who was powerful enough to save you from anything. I’m not him anymore. I’m someone else. Someone weak and stupid, who can barely see and whose body always aches.”

“Hey,” you said, holding him at an arm’s length, using the hem of your shirt to dry his tears. “Hey, hey, look at me. Are you looking at me?”

His eyes, the soft color of clouds, settled on you. You weren’t sure what you had done to deserve that kind of trust, that kind of affection or devotion, but you did the best you could with it, holding his face in your hands and squishing his cheeks fondly.

“Yes,” he said.

“I didn’t fall in love with what you have up here,” you said, knocking on his head lightly. “Nor here, nor here.” This was accompanied by pinches on each of his arms. “What I cared about, what I still care about, is this.”

You placed your hand on his heart. He tilted his chin to gaze at it, and you took the moment to flick him, earning you a small whine.

“My heart?” he said.

“Your heart,” you agreed. “In all the world, I don’t think there’s any other that could claim to be its equal, and that’s a fact independent of your cursed technique or your strength. I’ll always love that heart of yours, Yuta. There’s nothing you can do that’ll stop me from doing so. Change your name, change your face, change everything else about you — I’ll recognize it all the same, and I will love it regardless.”

“Do you mean that?” he said.

“I’ve never meant anything more,” you said. “I love you for who you are, not for what you can do.”

“You really, truly are sure of that?” he said.

“How many times do I have to say it? How many words will it take for you to believe me? I love you, Yuta, I love you, I love you, I love you. Is that enough, or is there something else you’d prefer?” you said.

“There is,” he said. “There’s something else I want you to say.”

“What is it?” you said. “You only need to tell me, and I will.”

“I know I’m not strong or capable anymore. I can’t promise to protect you, and it’ll be more work on your part than anything, so I understand if you don’t want to do it,” he said. “It’s a terrible deal for you.”

“Huh?” you said. He avoided your eyes, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, velvet box, opening it and clearing his throat.

“I’m delicate now,” he said. “But if you’ll still have me, even in this condition, then…?”

“Are you proposing?” you said. He nodded shyly.

“I was going to wait to do it until after everything with the curses was resolved, but I don’t think I can wait any longer,” he said. “I guess I kind of got caught up in the moment. I’m sorry.”

I wouldn’t have before, he seemed to be thinking. Before, I would’ve been disciplined enough to deny myself that joy until the perfect moment.

You didn’t want Yuta to ever deny himself anything again, though. He had given you everything so that you could have a second chance at life; it was only fair that you spent the rest of that life with him. It belonged to him already, anyways. Every thump of your heart, every breath in your lungs, every thought in your mind…they were all his.

“Don’t apologize,” you said. “It’s perfect. This is perfect. Everything about it is.”

“Really?” he said dubiously.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, it’s perfect, and yes, I’ll marry you.”

He swallowed, and then slowly, he slid the ring onto your finger, with all the painstaking care of a surgeon. Then he blinked up at you, frowning when tears of your own welled against your lashes.

“Is everything okay?” he said.

“It’s more than okay. I’m happy,” you said. “I’m so happy that I can’t help but weep. I never thought that I could be so lucky.”

You wished that you could tell your younger versions that the two of you would end up like this, that everything would work itself out in the best way that it could, that eventually, you would again find something like happiness. Maybe it was true that you both were different now — Yuta was missing his cursed technique, and you could never again simultaneously heal and fight — but you had made it. Somehow, despite everything, despite all that you had lost, you had made it.

In the end, what more could either of you ask for?

[sehtoast]

Happy Birthday (Homelander x Reader)

Fluffy drabble in honor of Antony Starr's birthday today. Gender Neutral Reader. Reader has spider powers. | Fic Directory

On the morning of his ‘birthday,’ he’s a grumbling, grouchy mess.

Homelander pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s not even my fucking birthday,” he tells you as if he hadn’t said it every single year since you’d both grown close. “Just what marketing thought would sell me better.”

Not only that, but he has to work on his ‘birthday.’ Run around for TV appearances, do his big, live-streamed save of the day to show the world that heroes don’t take a day off. They’ll always be there to save everyone, even if doing so is nothing more than a sore reminder of just how fabricated their lives really are.

Sure! He’ll zip around the state to appease his corporate overlords. Wave to the masses no matter how torn he is between loving and hating them, lift a car off some poor soul or catch another jumper. It’s what he does, right?

Because he’s a hero.

Right?

He’s not allowed to be like everyone else. Can’t kick his feet up and relax. There would be no day spent with you, no sleeping in, no lazy moments spent listening to your heartbeat before you wake.

He gets pepperings of you throughout his day, though.

You appear, in costume, at his birthday save. It’s the only reason he smiled when he touched down with that bozo who nearly leapt off the roof of an apartment complex. The emotive lenses of your mask let him know your smile reaches your eyes without even having to peer through the fabric.

It was your cheering that made it feel real.

He catches the sight of you blowing a kiss from behind the set camera during an interview. He worried his mask may have cracked on screen from how he smiled wider. He kisses you hungrily afterwards, away from prying eyes, before you’re both due to return to your respective duties.

You swing by during one of his meetings in the conference room, having taken the tray of coffee and stacks of paper from whichever employee was originally heading that way. You set a mug down for him and left the others to retrieve their own. The most you can give him is a friendly pat on the back– secret relationship things, y’know? But it means the world to him. You shoot him a wink before leaving.

It’s the only time he’s ever actually drank a meeting room refreshment.

When all is said and done for his big day, the sun has set. He finds you on top of the Chrysler Building, waiting for him atop one of the eagle perches. You’d set up some sort of picnic. He hears a song playing faintly from your phone– one he remembers you saying reminds you of him.

He lands with a sappy little grin.

You baked him a cake. How you managed to swing it to the top without any damage is a mystery to him, but he supposes most things you do are that way. How you love him, soothe him, free him… How your smile lifts the weight from his shoulders every single time.

“Make a wish!” You giggle before he blows out the candles. He takes a moment to admire the smudgy, wrinkly icing and awkward cursive ‘happy birthday, pumpkin!’ you’d written on top of it. More beautiful than that, there’s also you, bathed in the warm glow of the candles. It never gets old.

Yours are the only birthday cakes he actually likes.

His lips quirk into a lopsided grin when you lean in to kiss his forehead as he blows out the flames. He wasn’t sure what he wished for, but he thinks it must have been that. You tell him that his present has to wait for later since you didn’t trust yourself to carry it and the cake up the tower. He doesn’t care about that.

Not now.

Not when there’s a speck of icing to be dabbed on your nose and serenity to be had.

He takes you up above the clouds. The moon glows bright and full, but he has only eyes for you as you sway together. The music had long since ended, but you two dance nonetheless. Your hand rests in his, his arm wraps around your waist, and he floats you in a slow spin.

He thanks you for wiggling into his day as much as you could.

“S’what I do best,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I love you, Johnny. Happy birthday.”

He wraps his other arm around you, pulling you infinitely closer, no longer spinning. He’d rather focus on holding you. Taking in the moment, being here, now, with you.

He’s happy.

Content.

Peaceful.

Loved.

Completely and utterly tranquil in the gravity of you.

“I love you, too.”

A very happy birthday and many, many more to our shining Starr himself <3

[hughesmedicine]

special day | J. Hughes

!platonic jack hughes x reader

jackhughes

liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, trevorzegras and others

jackhughes: happy birthday to this nerd, thanks for being in my life the past 21 years, I love you so much! Enjoy being 22 till I get there ( I’m still mad that we weren’t born on the same day)

tagged: yourusername

load more comments..

yourusername: ROWDEN OMG THANK YOU I love you so much and thanks for the most annoying 22 years of my life!

| jackhughes: anytime, expect many more for years!

| yourusername: I can see us being 82 and sitting on the front porch throwing apples at my husband

| _quinnhughes: HELLO WHY AM I GETTING HIT WITH APPLES??

| jackhughes: stop reminding me that you guys are dating, makes me want to throw up.

_alextorcotte: I thought we would have got a normal caption this year

| jackhughes: what do you mean??? this is a completely normal caption.

| _alextorcotte: yeah okay

| yourusername: you wouldn’t get it if you don’t have a best friend

| jackhughes: ^

| _alextorcotte: him and I literally don’t do this??

| yourusername: it’s better when it’s a girl tbh

| _alextorcotte: noted

colecaufield: oh how I love when y/ns birthday comes around

| yourusername: you’re still coming right??

| colecaufield: wouldn’t miss it!

| yourusername: good you better be here at 8 am sharp

| colecaufield: plane doesn’t land till 9 am

| yourusername: obviously jump out and parachute the rest of the way, you have to think smarter cole!

| colecaufield: yeah okay I’ll do that

lhughes_06: happy birthday y/n/n, thanks for tormenting jack all these years for me!

| yourusername: anytime moosey, it’s the least I can do for the non annoying hughes🫶🏻

| jackhughes: okay really?

| _quinnhughes: not even gonna take offense to it even if she is wrong

| yourusername: I’m never wrong

| lhughes_06: don’t lie to yourself, sent with love🫶🏻

| yourusername: okay rude.

| lhughes_06: I SAID SENT WITH LOVE!

trevorzegras: happy birthday y/n/n, thanks for being the trio to our duo!

| yourusername: you have it all switched around but thanks z ily!🧡 ( go ducks!)

| trevorzegras: @/jackhughes I told you she’ll root for me more

| jackhughes: Y/N TELL HIM THE TRUTH

| trevorzegras: what truth???

| yourusername: number 1 devils fans right here buddy

| trevorzegras: way to rip my heart out and stomp on it.

| yourusername: im sorry (not sorry)

| trevorzegras: k blocked.

_quinnhughes: happy birthday baby ily and I can’t wait to see you tonight! Enjoy this special day💙

| yourusername: thank you my love, I love you so much more!

| jackhughes: get this disgusting shit out of my comment section ( I secretly love this relationship and I’m totally not being forced to type this out)

| _quinnhughes: she’s forcing you to type that last bit isn’t she?

| jackhughes: yeah she is and she has a hockey stick.

| lhughes_06: hope she wacks you, it’s one hundred percent deserved

elblue6: happy birthday sweetie, enjoy this big day!! Thank you for being the daughter I’ve always wanted❤️ and for keeping jack in check

| yourusername: im crying omg I love you so much and I couldn’t have asked for a better second mom!😭❤️ also your welcome, it’s what I do best!

njdevils: happy birthday to our amazing photographer and manager!❤️

| yourusername: thank you favorite admin!💙

| jackhughes: not you logging in to wish yourself a happy birthday💀

| yourusername: you’re just jealous you can’t do this

nicohischier: happy birthday bestie! Shots tonight?

| yourusername: shots tonight!

| jackhughes: stop stealing my friend @/nicohischier

| nicohischier: never❤️

canucks: happy birthday y/n!💙

| yourusername: thank you wonderful admins!💙

_eliaspettersson: happy birthday y/n, have the best day ever! I’ll celebrate with you once you come visit! | yourusername: be there next week, can’t wait to take shots with you!

[peoplesgraves]

Hiiii! Can I request some general headcanons with yandere platonic Guardians of the Galaxy x human reader?

Platonic Yandere Gotg

Imagine the guardians coming across a human reader on some far off planet.

•Peter literally makes the uwu face because he himself is basically a human teenager plus he sees someone to impart all his knowledge and pent up human jokes and mannerisms that the guardians don’t really get. He takes you under his wing and teaches you all the things you need to know like how to pilot a ship and also all the things you shouldn’t know like how to steal. If you ever called him dad or said you thought of him as your dad he’d cry. His birth father was never there and then turned out to be awful and Yondu wasn’t the nicest when he was younger so just knowing that you think he’s good enough to be your dad makes him full on sob.

•Gamora is the responsible one. She scolds Peter when he teaches you bad things or freaks you out with his attention. Gamora is calm and collected. She can always tell when your overwhelmed or need her just by your body language. She’s very attuned to you at all times and will always have a snack or a drink for you as soon as you even think of needing one. She’d babyproof the ship for sure. Making sure all the weapons are hidden from you and anything dangerous is out of your reach. She thinks youre delicate even if you’re not. Gamora is awkward with her affection because of her past but she really does try her best. She’ll do your hair and always gives hugs back when you hug her.

•Nebula is your mean aunt. She acts like she hates you and you’re a nuisance but let anyone make you feel bad and you’ll see how much she actually loves you. Nebula acts like she doesn’t care about you but she’s always the first to wish you a happy birthday or sit with you when you’ve had a bad day. You can drag her anywhere and make her do anything you want. She’ll complain the entire time but if you catch her when she thinks you’re not looking, she always has a smile.

•Drax treats you like a mix between a kid and a pet. He forgets that your delicate sometimes and will try to wrestle with you or throw you around but should he hurt you he acts like a kicked guard dog. Won’t leave your side and yells at anyone (besides the other guardians) who gets to close. He picks you up all the time and will just walk around with you tucked under his arm. He tries really hard because he missed having a kid in his life.

•Rocket is the bad influence. Peter might teach you how to steal but rocket is teaching you how to blow up a planet. He’s on a whole other level and if you’re not already feral then you will be by the time rockets done with you. He always eggs on and volunteers to help with any idea you have wether good or bad. Need a test subject for a new invention? Rockets your guy. Want someone to come graffiti with you? Rocket already has the spray paint. You can tell him anything without getting a lecture or an uncomfortable look which you can’t do with the rest of the guardians.

•Groot is…groot. He’s like a silent shadow in the corner of your life. Always there, always ready to pull you out of bad situations or to give you a listening ear when you need to rant. Like with rocket he’ll happily carry you around and be a participant in your schemes. He’ll give his all to protect and take care of you.

[honey-milk-depresso]

19 Reasons (Tim Drake x Reader)

It’s Tim’s birthday in my timezone, so I’m writing my first ever DC Comic post- yes- fiNALLY-

Summary: You said you wished your turning 19 year old Tim “Happy Womb Escape” by presenting a slideshow titled “19 reasons why I love Tim Drake.”

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

“Guess what day it is?”

“19 July?” He didn’t even bat an eye, busy typing away on his computer without a care in the world.

“Seriously? Okay stop working,” you closed his laptop and shove it away to a corner, “you literally forget it’s your birthday today?”

He looks at you nonchalantly before crossing his arms with an eyebrow raised. “Well, it’s not that important?”

You gasped in horror, dramatically rolling up to his chest with your hand pressed to your forehead and the other clutching your heart. “ ‘Not important’? My own boyfriend saying his birthday is ‘not important’? Non!”

He rolled his eyes, playfully and lightly shoving you away as he smirked. You grinned.

“I’m going to show you why it’s important with this slideshow!” You placed your own laptop on his lap, the monitor flashing a slideshow titled “19 Reasons Why I Love Tim Drake”.

“Oh god. This is gonna be fun,” he joked.

“Before that, I would just like to say,” you started, clicking to the next slide, “ ‘Happy Womb Escape’ to you, Drake.”

“Wait wha-”

“Now first reason!” You clicked to the next slide, cutting your baffled vigilante as you cleared your throat to perform your lines.

“Number one! He’s Red Robin, Gotham’s best vigilante out there! Ain’t I ever seen another like him!”

“There’s Bruce, Dick, Jason, Cass, Steph, Lu-”

“STOP- THERE IS NO ONE LIKE YOU!” You groaned in frustration, making Tim chuckle. “Yeah but I’m basically just like them.”

“I ain’t see someone who single-handedly took down the Joker? Obeah Man? Got rid of the booty shorts of Robin? That’s a crime, by the way.” You said it in a “matter-of-fact” way. He snorted.

“Secondly! He’s the most hardworking man I know! But also he needs rest so take notes. Third! He’s the biggest, dorkiest dork on earth who loves machines, science, and he googles the most random things on the internet just to give me a fun fact later on out of the blue!”

“Fourth! His hair is fluffy as hell and it makes him very nice to pat on the head! Fifth! He’s a nerd! And that’s cute! Sixth, Tim is the smartest man I’ve ever met. I bet he could find the last digit of Pi in like 2 seconds in his brain. Seventh!”

Tim smiled warmly, soon becoming smug the more you went on with your points. He looked so proud.

“Seventh, is that he’s a bisexual icon! Enough said. Eighth! He lends me his sweaters and they all smell like him which is the nice part.”

“You stole them, you mean?”

“Shhhh, let the presenter speak. Anyways, ninth! Timmy bringing me to a burger joint on our first date and he didn’t judge me for it. I’ll tell you something I didn’t until now: I was pretty scared you judged me but you didn’t. So thank god.”

“I always judge you, Y/N, it’s alright,” Tim smirked. You looked at him with a frown, not amused. “Yeah, okay never mind, I should take this slide down.”

“Hey!” He said, grinning as wide as you were. “Next! Tenth! He watches over me even when he’s on patrol to make sure I’m safe!”

“You… know? I thought I was pretty well hidden…” he blinked in surprise.

“Tim, you may be a detective and that’s exactly the point. It doesn’t take some of your skills to rub off of me,” again, you said it as a matter-of-fact.

“Eleventh! He’s a skater boy, and he’s my ‘Skater Boi’,” Tim once again snorted, much louder upon understanding that pop culture reference.

“Twelfth, he loves watching old, 80s to 90s cheesy movies and geeks out about them all the time while we’re watching! Don’t ever shut up, by the way. Thirteenth! He always fidgets with his fingers and hands when he’s bored subconsciously! That in itself is adorable.”

“Fourteenth! He’s a terrible cook, but he still tries anyways. It’s also adorable~” He rolled his eyes, folding his arms.

“Wow, I feel so loved.”

“Yesh, and I love you very much as well, Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne,” you teased. He scoffed lightly. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Fifteenth! He is the best cross-dresser. That is all. Sixteenth! HE IS THE WORLD’S GREATEST DETECTIVE! Like he found Waldo every 2 seconds, finished 5 books of him in 1 minute,” you said, doing an amateur explosion side effect by saying “kaploosh” with your hands doing the mind-blown action.

“Again, Bruce and everyone else in my family.”

“Again, there is no one like you, Detective Tim. Seventeenth! Best photographer! Also enough said! Love everything you take, sweetie! Eighteenth! He makes using a metal stick look badass!”

“And lastly! Nineteenth! Drum roll please!” You use your knuckles to lightly drum against the wooden floors. “He’s Tim Drake! What’s not to love?” You smiled. It was so contagious that he found himself smiling as stupid and gleefully as you did.

He had always been insecure of his abilities and himself in general, so he was so flustered and gooey on the inside with how genuine you were with each point. Although, his flustered-ness was showing with pink blooming on his cheeks.

“Okay, guess I understand why my birthday’s important now.”

“Glad you understood my report, Mr Drake!” You smiled at him.

“So now I shall say,” you drum-rolled again, quickly tossing your arms around him and lightly pecked his cheek with a grin.

“I love you, Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne.”

He smiled at you lovingly, cupping your cheek as he gently brushed his thumb against it. “And I love you, too, YF/N L/N. Thanks for your birthday gift.”

You laughed sweetly. “The gift is you, technically~”

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

Reblogs help! ^^