#and i STILL think about that shit daily. he would think it was appropriate and either bear that shit stoic or lose his goddamn mind

[talentforlying]

standing before you today to say that the jld writers' choice to assign constantine the house of mystery, aka the one that belonged to cain, was a WILD move and SHOCKINGLY emblematic of a lot of who he is as an archetype, particularly in relation to his family: as betrayer son and brother, defiler of his father's house, favorer of bloodless sacrifice yet steeped in the opposite, the first killer (or so he believes), cardinal sins of pride and envy, murderer of those he claims to love, liar to the face of god. cursed forever to walk alone, city-coded, shielded from vengeance but unable to shield those around him, slaking the earth in blood where he only ever wanted to sow, an eternity of regret is not enough to repair the damage he has done.

[yeonzzzn]

🤍give up heaven: sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 10.6k

synopsis: when you run into your best friend's ex-boyfriend at your favorite coffee shop thinking it was just a coincidence until seeing him became a daily thing. You can't get him out of your head and start to feel guilty at the very thought of him and things take a turn when he starts making advances towards you.

genre: hockey player!hoon with small mentions of figure skater!hoon, ex-bestfriend bf!hoon, hoon's ex-girlfriend best friend, friends to lovers, slight smut.

warnings: swearing, implied sex, make-out session, fingering, jerking off, verbal fight between reader, the ex, and sunghoon, MINORS DNI. lmk if i've missed anything!

You tried to avert your eyes when you saw him walk into the coffee shop. Pulling the scarf around your neck up higher and turning your face in the opposite direction. 

His voice echoed throughout the small shop, ordering his regular drink. Why do you still remember how he liked his coffee?

You slowly glanced up, his back was facing towards you, his hand reaching for his wallet from the back pocket of his blue jeans. 

After paying, he stepped back from the counter. You quickly turned your head away again, praying he didn’t see you or would even notice you. 

“Y/N?” 

Well, shit.

There's no point in hiding now. You slowly lifted your head, seeing the soft smile on his face as he slightly leaned to the side to get a look at your face, “It really is you.” 

You awkwardly smile, “Yes, it’s me.” 

Get your shit together, Y/N, come on.

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped short when his name was called, “Sunghoon! Your iced coffee is ready!” 

“Be right back,” his knuckles tapped on the table, his smile growing. 

You carefully watched as he got his coffee and made his way back to your table, pulling the chair across from you out and seating himself. 

“How have you been?” he asked excitedly, his long fingers wrapping around his coffee, taking a small sip, “It’s been what? A year?” 

You nodded, wrapping your fingers around your warm coffee, “I see you still drink iced coffee even during the winter, some things never change huh?” 

Sunghoon softly chuckled, his smile just growing brighter and wider, his natural fangs peeking from his lips, “Everyone knows iced coffee is superior,” he leaned his elbows onto the table, “Your hair is longer, it looks good. You look good.” 

You smiled, “Thank you, you look really good as well, Sunghoon.” 

Sunghoon gave you a soft smirk and flexed his arms, “Why thank you! Been working out a lot lately.” 

You rolled your eyes and took another sip of your coffee, “You really haven’t changed.” 

His laugh was enough to make you laugh as well, the corners of your lips curving upwards no matter how hard you tried to push it down. 

It felt like old times. 

Speaking about old times…

His smile finally faded, the happy expression he once had was also gone, his face relaxing into a kinda of sad softness. 

His voice trembled, “How is uhh…how is she?” his eyes darted to the corner of the table. 

Oh…he’s still in love with her.

Your lips thinned into a line, trying to figure out what information was appropriate to give out. 

“She’s really good.” it wasn’t a total lie. 

Sunghoon nodded, the corner of his lips barely curling, “That’s… um…that’s good then. I’m glad she’s doing well.” 

It broke your heart that he couldn’t even say your best friend's name. It must still hurt even after a year. 

Sunghoon dated your best friend for almost three years. You remember when the two of you first met him at your college's hockey game. 

He bumped into the two of you, spilling his soda all down your best friend's outfit. Oh, man was she pissed. It didn’t take Sunghoon long to convince her to let him make it up to her. 

After that, they were inseparable. 

Sunghoon was a part of the hockey team, but due to a leg injury, he had to sit out until he was completely healed. But that didn’t stop him from attending every hockey game to support his teammates. He even dragged your best friend along with him. Which eventually led you to tag along as well. 

The three of you became that trio that was inseparable. A package deal. If you saw one of us, the other two were sure to be right behind. 

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. Their relationship got toxic. They fought more than normally and on hangout days, either your best friend was missing, or Sunghoon was missing. Nothing felt right and the air between your friend group grew thick. Hard to breathe. 

Sunghoon eventually stopped talking to you, and then they broke up. Your best friend stopped hanging around you and slowly stopped speaking to you as well. You figured it was due to the heartbreak, that she just needed her space. You didn’t think it would lead to your friendship slowly becoming nonexistent. 

You two weren’t exactly best friends anymore, but after she healed from the breakup, she came back around. It just wasn’t the same as before Sunghoon came into the picture. 

You two still barely talk, and barely see each other, but still kept that contact and hung out when you could. 

You never understood why she pushed you away, but the heart does crazy things when it’s hurting. 

And you haven’t seen Sunghoon since a couple of months before the breakup, until today. A little over a year later. 

“Well,” Sunghoon’s voice brought you out of your deep thoughts, “I have to get going, need to catch practice.” 

Your eyebrows raised, “You’re playing still?” 

Sunghoon’s doctor finally cleared him to get back on the ice after almost a year of being off it, but due to the team setup they had at that time, he wasn’t able to fully rejoin the team again until around the time of the breakup. He was able to practice and attend the games as a sub if needed, but it was enough for him to keep his mind busy for a little bit. 

You’ve secretly kept up with the scores of the hockey team, knowing Sunghoon was back on the team officially. But after a while you quit. Clearing Sunghoon from your life completely. 

Sunghoon nodded, “Hell yeah I’m still playing, who do you think I am?” he teased, standing up from the table, “But, I am actually not going to hockey practice.” 

The surprise must have shown on your face because Sunghoon was giggling like a child at your confusion, “I joined an ice skating team as a figure skater.” 

You sat up straighter in your chair, “Since when?!”

“Since…well.” He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, it was all you needed to know. 

Being a sub on the hockey team eventually wasn’t enough for Sunghoon to keep his brain busy after the breakup. Until he was officially able to play again, he needed another distraction. Come to find out he loved figure skating as much as hockey, deciding even after being fully back on the hockey team, he kept up with figure skating as well. 

You slowly nodded, “I am really glad you’re doing well for yourself, Sunghoon.” 

He softly nodded back, “Thank you, Y/N. I have to get going, the ice is calling my name.”

You waved at him as he walked to the entrance, him turning back around as his back touched the doors, “It was nice seeing you!” 

You agreed. 

—

Your best friend sighed as another customer walked into the smoothie shop, holding up her index finger towards you as she walked away and up to the register, taking the customer's order. 

You leaned against the counter, moving the seat back and forth with your hips like a child. 

“Okay,” she said, returning to you after the customer's smoothie was made, “What were you telling me?” 

“Just that the materials you missed in bio today weren't too hard. I took extra notes for you,” you pulled into your backpack taking out the pretty iced blue folder, “Here they are!” you pulled out the stack of notes you made for her, her taking them and holding them to her chest.

“Thank you SO MUCH YN!!!” she placed the papers in a drawer under the counter, “I could kiss you right now. What would I do without you?” 

Probably survive perfectly fine since you had no problem cutting me off after you and Sunghoon broke up. 

You shrugged with a smile, “Fail bio.” 

She laughed and nodded, “Yeah, probably. But I have you to help keep me in the loop!” 

You honestly hated how the two of you could go DAYS sometimes even WEEKS without talking or seeing each other yet she has no problem acting as if nothing ever happened. 

But she was all you had, so you played along with her. 

You dropped your backpack onto the floor, wondering if telling her the other thing was right or wrong. 

You decided to anyway. 

“I also saw Sunghoon the other day.” 

Her movements slowed and her smile faded, “Is that so?” 

You nodded, “We talked for a couple of minutes, but he had to go practice, so it was a short moment.” 

You could see the gears were turning in her brain, “Practice? Guess he was able to get back on the team after all. That’s good at least.” 

“He actually is figure skating now too, that’s where he was headed.” 

Your best friend’s eyes widened, “Wow, I did not see that one coming.” 

You agreed, “It was definitely not something I’d expected Park Sunghoon to do, but I guess it kinda suits him.” 

Your friend nodded, seeing how deep in thought she was. 

You wanted to ask her to speak her mind, but unfortunately, the two of you weren’t that close anymore. 

A couple more customers walked in, sending her back away from you. 

You stood from the seat, grabbing your things, giving her a smile and wave as you walked out. You only came to give her the notes she missed anyway. 

Usually, when she skips out of class she gets the notes from one of the boys she’s secretly messing around with. But every blue moon she asks you. 

You guessed it was the only way to keep in contact with you in some way. 

—

You quickly stepped into the coffee shop, brushing off the slight snow from your hair, ready to get a sip of your favorite coffee. 

The barista noticed you, giving you his famous thumbs-up, “Already on it YN!” 

You gave him a thumbs-up back. You were so happy you discovered this place, it became one of your comfort places to be. It’s quiet enough to do homework or read, the coffee is amazing and all the baristas know you and your order. What isn’t there to love?

“Fancy seeing you here again,” you whipped around, seeing Sunghoon sitting in your usual spot, a book in his hands and his iced coffee half empty on the table. 

Your brain spasmed, what was he doing here again?

You just nodded, “You’re in my spot.” 

Sunghoon shrugged, “I can move?” 

Well shit, now you feel bad. 

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind sharing.” 

Sunghoon smiled, eyes flickering back down to his book. 

The barista called your name, turning your attention back to him, “Thank you, Taehyun.” 

His sharky smile warms your heart, “Always,” his eyes darted over to Sunghoon then back to you, “Do you know him?” 

You sighed, “Yes, he’s an old friend.” 

Taehyun nodded, his tongue sliding into his cheek, “He’s been here every day since the last time you were here.” 

You froze, narrowing your eyes, “Honestly?” 

Taehyun nodded again, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that he wasn’t some creep.” 

You smiled softly at him, “No need to worry. He’s harmless.” 

Taehyun gave you a half smile, then walked off to finish working. 

You sat down in front of Sunghoon, his eyes not leaving the page of his book. 

You cleared your throat, taking a sip of your coffee. 

Sunghoon glanced up for a second at your throat clearing, “Yes?” 

You cupped your hands around your coffee, “What?” 

Sunghoon sighed and closed his book, setting it on the table, “You only clear your throat like that when you have something to say.” 

Damn, does he remember the small details of you?

“You remember that?” 

Sunghoon chuckled, picking up his iced coffee, “YN, I’ve known you for almost, what? five years? You think I’d just forget everything?” 

Well, no…just didn’t think you’d care enough to remember. you didn’t date me after all. 

All you could do was shrug, “My barista told me you’ve been here every day,”

Sunghoon raised a brow as he sipped on his coffee, finishing it off, “Your barista?” 

“Not like that!” you snapped quietly, wishing you could jump over the table and tackle him, “I’m a regular here, Taehyun just happens to be the barista who always takes care of me.” 

Sunghoon mouthed out a “wow” and leaned back into the seat, “First name bases too?” 

“Sunghoon,” his name falling off your lips felt foreign, mostly since you were speaking to him, “Why are you here every day?” 

He thinned out his lips into a line, eyes looking down at his Converse, “Been looking for a good coffee shop to regular, and this one surprised me when I first came in here. You just so happened to be here the day I decided to try it.”

That sounds…completely true. This coffee shop is incredible. You don’t blame him for wanting to become a regular. It was all a coincidence. 

You sipped down your coffee, feeling the stare of his eyes, “Yes?” 

“So back to Taehyun being your barista,” 

You laughed, kicking your leg into his shin, “Stop!” 

Sunghoon’s fangs slipped out as he smiled. 

—

Sunghoon’s appearance in the coffee shop became more regular, just like he said. 

Taehyun knew his order by heart, just like yours, and would always have it ready the moment he saw Sunghoon walk in. 

You had to admit, it felt good having him back in your life. It felt like old times when you’d hang out when your best friend was too busy working. You three all used to be so close. 

Yet you didn’t have the heart to tell her you were even hanging out with Sunghoon again. It technically wasn’t even hanging out, you two just happened to sit, talk, and drink coffee together at your favorite coffee shop. 

Another week has flown by with Sunghoon making his appearance at the shop.

You laughed together over a book you both read, Sunghoon feeling Taehyun’s eyes on you. 

You stood up, “I’m heading to the bathroom,” 

Sunghoon nodded, his eyes darting to Taehyun, watching him as he watched you walk to the bathroom. A small sigh escaped Taehyun’s lips. 

Taehyun then made eye contact with him, and the look he was giving Sunghoon made him clench his fists. 

Your return to the table had Sunghoon relaxing, and Taehyun returning to work. 

Sunghoon couldn’t take his eyes off you. He felt so at home in your presence. His mind telling him to tell you the truth, that you deserved to know. But the moment you locked eyes with him and the corners of your lips curled into that precious smile, he couldn’t do it. 

“What’s up?” you asked, “You’re deep in thought?” 

“Ahh…” Sunghoon tried to collect his thoughts, then quickly smiled, settling on the topic change, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” you thought about it, “I just have class, why?” 

“Come to my hockey practice tomorrow night.” 

That invite took you by surprise, “Huh?” 

Sunghoon smiled even more, leaning forward on the table, “Come watch my practice tomorrow. Please?”

You tried to find an excuse to get out of it, but nothing came to mind. How could you just show up to your best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s hockey practice?

“The guys would love to see you, I bet.” Sunghoon mentioning his friends only hit you in the heart harder, “Come on, YN, just like old times.” 

Without a second thought, you agreed. Not knowing exactly why, but feeling as if it would be okay. It was just hockey practice. 

He jumped up from the table, “I have to get to figure skating practice, is your phone number still the same?”

You nodded, heart beating faster at hearing he still had your phone number. 

With a jump away from the table and a small skip, he said, “I’ll text you the details!” 

—

Sunghoon twirled his hockey stick in hand, eyes darting to each entrance of the stadium.

Heeseung skated past, quickly stopping in front of him, eyes also following each entrance, “Brother, what are you looking at?”

Sunghoon snaps his attention at Heeseung, his mouth open to speak, but no words coming out. 

“He’s waiting for YN,” Jay says as he also skates past, skating a circle around them. 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Dude.” 

Jay smirked, “Should’ve kept your mouth shut.” 

“Clearly, that’s the last time I tell you anything,” Sunghoon said, sliding his helmet over his head. 

Heeseung raised a brow, “Wait you’re speaking to YN again?” 

Sunghoon just nodded, “Yeah. We umm, ran into each other at a coffee shop.” 

“Yeah, “ran into each other”, we’ll call it that.” Jay teased, leaning forward on his hockey stick. 

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll kick your stick from you and laugh when you hit the ice,” Sunghoon said with a snarky smile. 

“Woah now!” Jay said, holding his hand up, “You’re a figure skater now, can’t be talking like that anymore.” 

Sunghoon skated forward, Jay also scooted backward sticking his tongue out. 

Heeseung seemed to be the only one who was concerned, “How did the three of you make up?” 

Sunghoon awkwardly chuckled, “You mean the two of us…”

Heeseung looked at his friend confused, “You and—“

“No,” Sunghoon quickly shook his head, “We aren’t talking.” 

Heeseung just nodded, finally putting the pieces together, “Sorry for assuming that you rekindled with both of them.” 

Sunghoon swung his hockey stick around again, “Just YN. And from what I’ve noticed, the two of them aren’t really friends anymore.”

It didn’t take long for Sunghoon to figure it out. The way it used to be, his ex would always talk about you, and you would always talk about his ex. The two of you were inseparable. A package deal. With one you got the other. And the fact that you haven’t once brought her up over the last week that he’s started talking to you again, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she also pushed you away after the breakup. 

Heeseung just nodded, “Do you blame them?” Sunghoon just looked at him, not knowing what to say, “YN doesn’t know, does she?” 

Sunghoon shook his head, “No, and she won’t.” 

“Hoon-“

“I am not ready to tell her,” Sunghoon snapped, “I finally got one of my closest friends back, I don’t want to cross that bridge.” 

Heeseung sighed and nodded, “Okay man, just don’t get butt hurt when it backfires at you.” 

Sunghoon knew this secret could backfire on him, he wasn’t stupid. But it was worth the risk. 

“I’m going to see if she texted me,” he said, “Just in case she said he couldn’t make it.” 

Heeseung watched as Sunghoon skated off towards his gym bag. 

Dropping his gloves to the ice and carefully stepping off the ice, he sat down on the bench, opened his gym bag, and pulled out his phone, quickly finding your messages and seeing you’ve read his last text. 

Sunghoon felt stupid getting his hopes up. What did he think inviting you would do? 

I just wanted her back in my life again. 

He tossed his phone back in the bag and stepped back onto the ice, pulling his gloves back onto his hands. 

I’m so fucking pathetic. 

Sunghoon adjusted his gloves, now waiting for practice to start. 

Jay whistled at him, causing a glare to shoot from his eyes.

Jay tilted his head up, “Look.” 

Sunghoon turned back around, seeing you walking in, your arms wrapped tightly around you. 

He couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face, immediately skating in your direction. 

“You made it!” he said, sliding his helmet from his head. 

You smiled back, nodding, “Sorry that I am a bit late, my class got out later.” 

You walked up to the wall Sunghoon was now leaning against, his helmet resting on top of it. 

“You showed up, and that’s all that matters,” Sunghoon couldn’t hide how happy it made him that you were here right now. 

You nodded again, smiling wide back at him, “It’s cold as balls in here though!” 

Sunghoon pointed over to his gym bag, “I have my hockey varsity jacket in my bag, wear it if you get too cold.” 

“I am definitely going to wear it,” you shivered, “I forgot how cold it gets in here.” 

The memory of the last time he saw you replayed in his mind, it was during a hockey game. His team was a couple of points away from winning. Sunghoon and his ex were too busy fighting off on the side of the bleachers, her stomping away not wanting to finish the conversation. His eyes wandered over to you, the sad look you gave him broke his heart even more. Your heart was also breaking due to watching your closest friends tear each other apart. All Sunghoon could do was shove his hands into his hoodie pocket and walk out of the stadium. 

He watched as you walked over to his things, your hands immediately reaching for the jacket and sliding it onto your body. 

Oh fuck I am a goner. 

Sunghoon loved the way you looked in his jacket. The way it loosely hangs against your body. How cute it made you look. His heart dropped onto the ice. 

Your body started warming up a bit more, sliding your hands into his jacket pockets. Your eyes traced the other players on the ice. Jay and Heeseung waving at you. You waved back. Gosh, you couldn’t remember the last time you saw either of them. 

You’ve seen them out and about around the college, but not so personally like this. It’s been way too long. 

Sunghoon skated back over to his friends and teammates. 

“It’s weird seeing her again,” Jay said, watching you sit down, eyes wandering around the stadium, “Mostly seeing her without her twin at her hip. She looks really good though,” 

Jay was lucky Sunghoon was in a better mood than earlier, or else he’d be wiping the ice with Jay’s face, “Can we not talk about my ex, please, and she does look good. Eyes off.” 

Jay wanted to make a smart remark, but with a quick look at Sunghoon and then you, he decided to leave the teasing off the ice, giving him a nod, “Yeah, sorry man.” 

Their coach finally started practice. 

It went by in a flash. You waited outside the stadium for Sunghoon, his jacket still wrapped around your body. 

“Well, what did you think of our practice?” Sunghoon said, sneaking up on you, and giving you a little jolt. 

“It was very interesting, you played well.” 

Sunghoon walked closer to you, his hands reaching up to fix the collar of his jacket, his cold fingers brushing against your skin, “My jacket looks really good on you.” 

Your heart sank. 

Is he…flirting???

“Oh, shoot!” you tried to play it off as if you forgot, wanting to find an excuse for the blush on your face to go away after his comment, reaching to take the jacket off, “Here, I forgot I was still wearing it.” 

Sunghoon grabbed your hands and shoved them back at your side, “YN, keep it.” 

“But—“ 

Sunghoon interrupted, “It’s okay! I promise! Just keep it for now, okay? I have another jacket I can wear.” 

You nodded, feeling your body getting hot from his hands still touching yours. 

Why are you getting so bothered??? You’ve known him for years. Why is every little thing he’s doing affecting you???

“Anyways,” he said, finally letting go of your hands, “We have a game this weekend, you’ll come right?” 

You wouldn’t mind going, it could be an excuse to get you out of your apartment for once and not just sit at the coffee shop either. 

“Yeah, I’ll come.”

Sunghoon smiled, his eyes darting to the ground to try and hide just how big he was smiling, “I’ll save you a ticket.” 

—

You walked into the shop, giving Taehyun a smile and wave. Giving you the normal thumbs up. 

You dropped your backpack to the floor at your normal table and slumped down into the seat with a sigh. 

“Rough day?” Sunghoon asked, his yellow highlighter moving across his textbook. 

You nodded, “I forgot to set my alarms last night, so I woke up late and got to class late. On top of that I had to take double the notes because…” you stopped yourself, not wanting to bring your best friend's name into the mix. 

Sunghoon stopped highlighting, he didn’t even have to hear her name to know what you were going to say, his eyes slowly rising to meet yours, “You’re still taking notes for her?” 

You just shrugged, “Maybe…” 

“YN,” he dropped his highlighter into the textbook, “You need to stop doing that.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Mostly because you knew he was right. She was just using you at this point. 

Taehyun interrupted your thoughts by setting your coffee down in front of you, “Tae! I could have gotten it from you.” 

His cute sharky smile came out, “Don’t worry about it, I don’t ever get to bring the coffee to you. Plus I needed to get away from behind the counter.” 

You smiled up at him, “Thank you.” 

Taehyun rested his hand on your shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze, “It’s no problem at all, YN.” 

Sunghoon clenched his fists under the table, eyes burning holes into his hand that was touching you. 

As Taehyun walked away, he locked eyes with Sunghoon as if to say “Your move now, buddy.” 

Oh, I’ll play your game, Taehyun. 

“He totally has a crush on you.” Sunghoon spat out. 

You softly giggled, “Who? Tae? No,” you giggled again, taking a sip of your coffee, “He’s just a good friend.” 

Sunghoon rubbed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes darting back to Taehyun who was now back behind the counter, “I can see it in the way he looks at you.” 

You rolled your eyes. He sounds jealous. 

You glanced up at him, seeing how he kept his eyes on Taehyun. 

Oh, he’s…actually jealous??? No. It couldn’t be. He’s still in love with his ex.

You shook the thoughts from your head, deciding to change the subject, “Are you ready for the game tomorrow?” 

Sunghoon’s eyes made their way back to you, his face relaxing and a small smile formed, “Yes, you’re still coming…right?” 

You nodded, “I wouldn’t miss it,” you took another sip of your coffee, “Wasn’t able to see you play back then, so I’m excited to see you play now.” 

Hearing you say that warmed his heart. Knowing you’ll be in the crowd cheering for him and only him. He had to make sure he was on his ‘a game’ tomorrow. 

“Make sure to wear my jacket tomorrow,” Sunghoon gave you a wink, picking his highlighter back up and continuing where he left off. 

You giggled, “Why? What will your jacket do? Bring good luck?” 

Sunghoon chuckled, stretching the highlighter across the words on the textbook, “It has an S.H. and my last name on the back,” he glanced back up at you, “And you know, yeah, you wearing my jacket will bring good luck. You’ll be my good luck charm.” 

Sunghoon took notice of the slight blush on your cheeks, his smile growing more as he looked back to his textbook. 

God, she’s so cute. 

You tried to slow your heart rate. Why is he making you feel like this? 

“It’s getting kinda late,” Sunghoon’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, “Are you hungry? Want to grab a bite to eat? Then I can walk you to your apartment?”

You nodded. 

You weren’t sure what these butterflies in your stomach meant, but it made you feel guilty for even having them. 

—

It was game day and your nerves were all tied together in a knot. 

You took one last look at your outfit in your mirror, fingers twisting in the belt loops of your ripped skinny jeans, pulling them up further above your hips. 

Your college’s hockey team t-shirt had a small hole at the bottom of the shirt, which was to be expected. This was an old shirt and you haven’t worn it since the last game you attended…the night Sunghoon pushed you out of his life. 

Your black high-top vans looked like they’ve seen better days, but looked good with the outfit. 

Grabbing a hair tie from your vanity, you pulled your long hair back, wrapping the tie around it, just to pull it out right after.  

You tried different hairstyles, not liking a single one. 

Why do I even care how my hair looks? 

You settled for a ponytail, deciding it’s what matched the outfit better. 

The last final piece was Sunghoon’s jacket, pulling it over your shoulders. You turned around in the mirror, glancing back to see his initials on the back. 

“You’ll be my good luck charm.” 

You caught yourself smiling at the memory, bringing the hems of the jacket up to your nose, breathing in the smell. 

It still smelt like him, even after you’ve had it for the last couple of days. The familiar smell of blackberry and floral filled your senses. 

His scent brought you comfort, the knot of nerves unraveling and disappearing. 

While the nerves found their way out, other feelings crept their way in. 

Your heart raced faster, thinking about the smile on Sunghoon’s face he’d have when he saw you. 

The more thoughts of him that flooded your brain, the more guilty you felt. 

He’s your best friend’s ex…you can’t be thinking about and getting so giddy over him. 

You slapped your hands to your face, hoping it would be enough to kick those feelings out. 

Unfortunately, they didn’t. 

You sat down at your vanity, pulling open one of the drawers, revealing a photo booth picture strip of yourself, Sunghoon, and your best friend. 

You held the fragile paper in your hands, staring at each set of photos one by one. Eyes locking onto Sunghoon. 

You didn’t feel this way about him back then, so why now all of a sudden does he have your stomach tied in knots? 

His smile in the photos sent your heart racing. The way he was looking at your best friend, you couldn’t help but wish he looked at you like that. 

You quickly shoved the photo strip back into the drawer, slamming it shut. 

You stood from the chair, grabbed your phone and keys, and walked out of your room. 

By the time you showed up at the stadium, the opposing team and Sunghoon’s team lined up on each side of the rink doing their warmups. 

Your eyes searched for him, seeing the number 23 skating by quickly, him swinging the hockey stick, sending the puck flying into the goal. 

Even though it was just a practice shot, you clapped anyway. 

Sunghoon skated back into line, eyes wandering the crowd until he found you. Your smile sends butterflies in his stomach fluttering about. 

God, you look so good right now. The way your hair was pulled back, the way your thighs peeked out from the rips of your jeans, and how perfect his jacket looked on you. 

Sunghoon never let his ex wear that jacket, it was so special to him, so much that only he wanted to wear it. But it was so different with you. 

He gave you a wave, letting you know that he does indeed, know you’re here. 

The game finally started, and the butterflies did not calm down one bit. He had to do well in this game. He couldn’t disappoint you. 

Heeseung patted his back, “Calm down buddy, you’re our best player. Can’t have you tapping out on us.” 

Jay agreed, “This isn’t even the first game of the season, what’s got you so worked up all of a sudden?” 

“YN is here,” Niki, one of the only freshmen on the team, teased. 

Sunghoon shot the younger one a glare, “Brother, you don’t want to tease me right now.” 

Niki smirked, “Man, I know enough about your life and I barely have been on the team.” 

Jay slapped Sunghoon’s shoulder, “Just ignore the kid, he’s just a little silly.” 

Niki agreed, “Just a little bit.” 

Sunghoon waved his teammates off, “I am fine, my nerves have nothing to do with YN being here.” 

His friends looked at him with telling faces, they knew he was lying. Knew he was full of shit. But deciding to let it go. 

The game went on, each of the teams scoring left and right. 

You sat on the edge of your seat, hands clasped together at your chest. There were five minutes left on the clock, your team was only a point ahead. 

Your eyes followed Sunghoon on the ice, you could tell by his body language he was stressed. The way he stretched his arms out over his hockey stick behind his neck was enough to tell how absent-minded he was in this moment, the only thing he could focus on was getting one last point. Swinging his stick back down onto the ice, slightly bending over, ready for anything. 

Jay passed the puck to Niki, pushing the puck across the rink, Sunghoon positioned himself, screaming for Niki to pass the puck towards him.  

Niki passed it quickly to him. Sunghoon grabbed the puck, pushing his feet and legs as quickly as he could against the ice, the only thing on his mind was to keep the puck against the stick.

As he neared the goal, the goalie prepared himself for Sunghoon to make a shot. 

Sweat dripped down the side of his face, hands gripping tighter on the stick as he lifted it from the ice and puck. 

You stood to your feet, hands hovering over your chest, gripping at the fabric of your shirt. 

Sunghoon swung the stick using all the force possible and hit the puck, watching as the black disc flew across the ice. 

The world seemed to go in slow motion for Sunghoon, his eyes wide as the anticipation of waiting for the puck to reach the goalie, it sliding gracefully between the goalie's legs, the guy barely missing to stop it. 

Sunghoon pivoted, stopping his motion on the ice. His eyes locked onto the puck, confirming it hit the net. 

He turned his body towards his teammates, the world around him going back to normal speed. The crowd cheered, and his teammates surrounded him, slapping their hands against his chest, shoulders, and back. The clock hit its final second, the buzzer sounding. The game was over. We won. 

We won..!!

Sunghoon started screaming and cheering with his teammates, hands slapping them as they continued to slap him. 

You rushed down to the wall, the upper half of your body leaning over it, cupping your hands to your mouth, “Sunghoon!!!” 

He didn’t hear you over the screams of his mates and fans. But it felt as if he knew you were waiting for him. 

His eyes found you and started pushing past his teammates, sliding his helmet off and handing it and his stick off to Heeseung. 

Using what was left of his leg strength, he pushed himself towards you quickly. 

He stretched his arms up in the air, shouting, “WE DID IT!!” 

You couldn’t stop your smile from falling, not when Sunghoon looked as happy as he did at that moment. His fangs were on full display from how wide he was smiling. 

His body crashed against the wall, his gloved hands wrapping around your waist, connecting his torso to yours. 

His wet sweaty hair tickled your cheek as he pulled you into a hug. The first hug you’ve received from him since…well the breakup. 

You patted his back, leaning your head against his, “You played so well! I am so proud of you!” 

You’ve never gotten to tell him how exactly proud of him you were. For all the years you’ve known him, he’s always given his one hundred percent, but because of the past circumstances, you weren’t able to voice how proud you were of him, your best friend wouldn’t have allowed it. 

Hearing you tell him how well he did was enough to risk everything. It did something so deep to his heart that he couldn’t hide it anymore. 

It’s now or never Park Sunghoon, just do it. 

“I told you. I told you that you were my good luck charm,” he whispered in your ear, brushing his cheek against yours as he moved his head up. Brushing his nose against yours softly before moving in, pressing his lips against yours quickly. 

So fast that you didn’t have time to process it as his hands left your waist and he was skating backward away from you. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes stayed locked with yours. 

Your fingertips touched your lips, your ears blocking out all sound as the rest of your senses focused on the man in front of you. 

He kissed you…Oh my god, he kissed you!!! 

Sunghoon gave you a wink and said “Meet me by my car!” then turned back around, skating to his teammates, all of them huddling together. 

—

He pressed you up against his front door, using your body to completely shut it, his fingers flipping the lock as his tongue invaded your mouth, your brain going fuzzy. 

You met him at his car after the game and convinced you to have dinner with him and the team. 

You sat beside him in the booth at this fancy diner, his arm was wrapped around your shoulder, his fingers softly rubbing against your arm. Once the food arrived at the table, his arm went from being behind you to his hand resting on your thigh, his fingers sliding between the rips of your jeans, squeezing the plush skin. 

His touch was driving you crazy, and with your new emotions towards him, it made his contact with your skin make you hot and bothered. 

Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off you, and you liked it. Liked the attention he was giving you. 

Liked it so much that you didn’t even think twice when he drove right past the street of your apartment building and pulled into his apartment building. 

He held both your hands tightly, his smile so bright as he guided you up the stairs to his apartment. Soft laughs leaving his lips at just the thought of being with you. 

He was dying to kiss you again. Like properly kiss you. 

He wanted to kiss you so bad that the moment you were inside his apartment, his hands and body were pressed against yours, using his weight to push you against his door. Lips connecting to yours as if he were running out of oxygen and your lips were the sole source of air. 

His hands moved from your hips, sliding up your torso, fingers grazing against your breasts and up to your neck, hands cupping your jaw. 

You kissed him back forcefully, pushing your tongue between his lips, rubbing the muscle against his own, mixing your saliva. 

You tasted so sweet to him. He couldn’t get enough. 

Sunghoon went to pull away, wanting to attach his lips to your neck, but you weren’t ready for his lips to leave yours. 

You caught his bottom lip between your teeth, biting a bit harder than you expected. 

Sunghoon hissed out in pleasure, rolling his hips against yours, his clothed hard length pressing at your heat. 

You released his lip, his hands taking yours and lifting them above your head, pinning you against the door, his lips attaching themself to your neck, “Keep acting up baby and I just might have to punish you.” 

His words sent chills down your spine as he left open mouth kisses on your neck. Your imagination running wild at what these punishments would be, but being too afraid to test his limits. 

Sunghoon loved hearing the soft moans escaping your pretty little mouth. It was music to his ears. 

He placed his leg right between yours, using it to spread them further apart, giving him more access to press his cock against you. 

You were shaking, wanting to completely feel him against you, skin to skin. 

“Hoonie,” you whispered in his ear, “Please,” 

Sunghoon reached down, cupping the back of your thighs and lifting you up, wrapping your legs around him. His hands sliding to cup your ass, lips finding yours again. 

“Say less princess,” he mumbled against your lips as he carried you to his bedroom. 

He laid you down gently on his bed, his right hand stayed on your thigh, squeezing it tightly to keep it wrapped around him as his left hand flew to his shirt, fingers working their magic at the buttons. 

You became impatient, sending your hands to help undress him. 

You slid the fabric off his shoulders and down his arms, your fingers feeling every muscle as they traced down his skin and off his body. 

Your eyes took a moment to appreciate his body. You already knew he worked out, but good lord was his toned, buff body beautiful. 

Sunghoon kissed you again, his hands sliding his jacket off your body then finding their way under your shirt and up and over your head. 

He worked with the button of your jeans as you worked with his. 

He slid his jeans and underwear down together, leaving him completely bare to you.

His fingers looped between your jeans and panties, lifting your hips up as he pulled them off your body. 

“Fuck, YN,” he moaned out, hands snaking underneath you to unclasp your bra, your breasts falling to their natural place once the material was on the floor. His eyes looked your bare body up and down, before laying his body on top of yours, “You’re so beautiful.” 

Your fingers tangled in his hair when he kissed you again, your tongues dancing together in perfect rhythm, his hand sliding down your body and stopping at your thigh to pull it back over his waist. 

Sunghoon was completely turned on just by the skin-to-skin contact, by just feeling your pretty legs wrapped around him. 

He rolled his hips, rubbing his dick against your clit, his hand fumbling at his nightstand drawer for his box of condoms. 

You woke up that next morning with the sun shining through his bedroom window. 

Sunghoon had his head on your chest still fast asleep. 

His arm was wrapped around your waist, the bedsheets were tangled up between yours and his legs. His leg hung out from the sheets and they hung at his hips, his bare back exposed. 

Your heart raced at the site in front of you. 

Did this actually happen?? I am not dreaming?

Your hand touched his bicep, fingers softly moving up and down his arm. 

Sunghoon moved his head up, tucking it in your neck, arm tightening around you. He was still fast asleep. 

Guilt washed over you once again. You just had sex with your best friend's ex-boyfriend. She would kill you both if she knew what happened last night. 

Did you regret it? Absolutely not. The sex was perfect. Sunghoon is perfect. But that still didn’t stop the thoughts that it shouldn’t have happened. 

Would you do it again? Regardless of these thoughts? Also yes. 

Your relationship with Sunghoon was different now. You had deep feelings for him. And the fact that he kept inviting you over, inviting you to his practices and games, asking to see you after classes, and randomly showing up at your front door, proved enough to you that it wasn’t about the sex that night, that his feelings also ran deep for you too. 

Your coffee shop days were more intimate, instead of sitting across from each other, you’d sit beside each other. Hands locking together as you’d drink your coffees. 

He would be waiting outside your apartment door every single morning to drive you to class. 

You would cheer him on from the bleachers at every practice, and have dinner with him afterwards. 

The sex got more intense the more comfortable you both got. You saw a whole new side of Sunghoon in the bedroom. A side you never thought you’d ever see or even thought about seeing until recently. 

He explored every inch of your body, his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. Shoving his fingers in your mouth as he pounded into you from behind. Bruises were left on your hips from how his fingers would grip your skin. 

You got more bold too. From being his little submissive princess to a dominant queen. The way you’d jerk your hand up and down his cock sending his head flying back, body shaking from your touch as you straddled him. 

Sunghoon became a part of your daily life, just like he was all that time ago. 

You showed up to every game wearing his jacket, being that good luck charm you knew you were to him. Everything felt right.

—

Sunghoon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down onto your couch with him, “Babe, cuddle me! I am touch starved!” 

You rolled your eyes at him, trying to wiggle your way out of his grip, “We just had sex, yet you’re still touch-starved?” 

“Obviously!” he nuzzled his face at the nape of your neck, hands gripping the hem of your shirt, “Let’s have sex again.” 

“Hoonie,” you giggled at the feeling of his lips kissing your neck, “You have practice in thirty minutes, you need to get ready soon.” 

Sunghoon groaned against your neck, but he knew you were right. 

Sunghoon went to propose skipping practice tonight but got distracted by your phone ringing, eyes darting over to it, being the nosey guy that he is, and seeing…his ex’s name on the caller ID. 

His smile faded, why would she be calling you?

You sighed at seeing your best friend's name on your phone, finger-hitting the decline. 

Calling her your best friend seemed pointless now. Right before things kicked off between you and Sunghoon, she found another boy toy to mess around with, completely ignoring you. You’ve also tried many times to hang out with her, to go by and see her at her job, to invite her over to do homework, to try and just hang with her when Sunghoon was busy, yet all she did was ignore you. So the fact she’s hitting you up now only means she needs something from you. And to say you were exhausted from it would be an understatement. 

Maybe it was karma for keeping your relationship with Sunghoon a secret from her. But you also knew you couldn’t tell her. At least not right now. 

You felt bad declining the call, deciding to shoot her a quick text saying you were busy in the shower and couldn’t answer the call just for her to reply saying it was fine, but was wanting the notes from class today and then sent a smiley face :) 

Sunghoon shook his head, “Please don’t.” 

You set your phone down, not responding to her, “Don’t what?” you knew the answer, but tried to play dumb anyways. 

“YN, stop playing this game with her, she’s using you.” 

You knew it was true, but hearing it come from his mouth didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. 

Sunghoon bit his lips in a way to keep himself calm. He hated that she was doing this to you. He saw firsthand how badly the breakup affected you too. You lost both of your best friends because of it. But the shitty part was you weren’t supposed to lose her, but you did anyway. She was supposed to stay by your side but didn’t. 

She abandoned you. Even after she promised him she wouldn’t. 

The secrets he wishes he could tell you in hopes of you cutting her off for good, but he couldn’t break that trust with her, even if she deserved it. 

The only thing he could do was try and convince you in other ways. 

“Baby,” he whispered, “Look at me.” 

You did, shifting yourself in his lap to face him. 

He tucked your hair behind your ears, “You deserve better than that. I know you love and care for her, and that she’s your best friend, but this friendship is toxic. All it is doing is hurting you.” 

You looked away from his chocolate eyes and to the floor, “I know.” 

Sunghoon pulled your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look back at him, “I don’t want you to hurt anymore, not just because of her, but because of me too. We both did some damage to you and I have to live with that. I am so fucking lucky you let me come back in your life. And well, I am not saying to completely cut her out of your life,” even though that is what he’s wanting, “but don’t do things like this for her anymore.” 

You nodded. He was right. The only reason you kept doing things for her no matter what they were was to keep her in your life. You kept holding onto a rope that was torn a long time ago. 

“Promise me,” he asked, holding up his pinky finger, “Please.” 

You wrapped your pinky tightly with his, sealing the promise. 

—

It was the final game of the season, if the boys win this game they move on to the championship. 

Sunghoon stood with you by the wall, his hands trembling in his gloves. 

He was nervous, scared even, it was written all over his face. 

“Sunghoon,” you saying his name always sounded so beautiful to his ears. He looks over to you, giving a nervous smile, “It’ll be okay. You’re one of the best damn players on this team. The championship is calling your team's name!” 

You could only hope your words were reaching him, helping make him feel better. 

Which it did. His hand stopped trembling just from your smile. You were his good luck charm after all. 

He slid his hand from his glove, cupping the side of your face, “I am the luckiest man alive to have you.” 

You leaned into his hand, his thumb rubbing against your skin. 

His couch blew the whistle for warm-ups to start. 

“Gimme a good luck kiss princess,” he said pulling you closer to him, “It’ll give me strength.” 

You giggled against his lips and pouted as he skated away, giving him a thumbs up. 

Little did you know, your “best friend” was sitting in the bleachers, watching the entire thing. 

The game went in a flash, Sunghoon once again scoring the winning goal. 

You jumped from your seat and pressed against the wall, arms stretched out and waiting for Sunghoon to embrace himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in celebration of his win. 

You stood at the end of the bleachers, eyes staring off down the hallway that led to the locker rooms, heart racing at wanting to see Sunghoon again, to be able to give him a proper hug for his win. 

“OMG! You came to the game too?!” 

Your heart sank at her voice, your friend connecting her shoulder to yours as she stood beside you. 

Your body tensed, “Y-Yeah, it was their last game so I came to support them.” 

“Hmmm,” she hummed, her hands flying to Sunghoon’s jacket, “Isn’t this Hoon’s?” She forced you around, seeing his name printed on the back. 

She knows she’s got to know.

She hummed again, “Why do you have his jacket, YN?” 

You shrugged, leaning back against the bleacher, “I was cold and he offered it to me I guess.” 

She crossed her arms, “He never let me borrow it, weird.” 

“I was freezing,” you tried to play it off, “You know how cold I can get sometimes.” 

She nodded, “That’s true,” her eyes darted down the hallway, “Since when did you and Hoon start hanging out again?” 

She definitely knows. 

You knew it was a matter of time before she found out, but you didn’t think it would be like this. 

You opened your mouth to speak, only for her face to light up with excitement and her hands clapping. 

The boys finally were leaving the locker room, “Here come our winners!” she said. 

Sunghoon was with Jay, the two of them doing their handshake and walking in separate directions, Sunghoon’s smile fading after looking in your direction. 

“OH EM GEE!!!” she squealed, grabbing your hand and rushing you both to meet Sunghoon halfway, “You are such a star Hoonie!” 

She wrapped her arms around Sunghoon’s neck, but he was quick to pull her off of him, “What are you doing here?” 

You were surprised how calm he was. 

“Am I not allowed to come and support you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. 

“You lost that right when we broke up.” he scoffed, “Why are you actually here?” 

She pouted, pulling you to her side, “I missed you guys, wanted us to rekindle and be a trio again.” 

Sunghoon could smell the bullshit radiating out of her mouth. 

Does this bitch think I am stupid?

“Rekindle?” he chuckled, “Rekindle what? Exactly?” oh he was pissed now, “Explain yourself. Now.” 

She let go of your arm, taking a step closer to him, “I miss you, Hoon.” She reached to touch his face, but he caught her arm with his hand, shoving it away from him. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

You didn’t know what to do or what to say, this fight didn’t involve you, it was something they had to settle. 

“Hoon,” she begged, “I want you back, please.” 

Sunghoon took a step back away from her, “Cut the bullshit.” 

She rolled her eyes, “What bullshit?!”

“I am in a relationship,” he spat out, “I am happy.” 

A laugh escaped her mouth, a laugh you’ve never heard her do before, “I know, I am not stupid,” she took a step back, wrapping her arms around you, “You’re fucking our sweet YN.” 

Sunghoon’s grip on his duffle bag tightened and his jaw locked. What the fuck was she trying to pull here?

She smiled, knowing she got you both where she wanted you to be, “The fact that you’re both quiet speaks volumes, lemme tell ya.” 

“What the fuck do you want?” he said through his locked jaw. 

“I want to know why,” she pulled a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I want to know why you both betrayed me like this. Why my ex-boyfriend decided it was okay to fuck my best friend, and why my best friend decided it was okay to fuck my ex.” 

Oh, she’s going there? Game on.

Sunghoon chuckled, “Best friend? Best friends don't abandon each other!”

“That’s rich coming from you,” she retorted.

“You abandoned her!!” he snapped. 

“So did you!!” she snapped back, “You walked away just as much as I did!” 

“I walked away because I cared about you! I cared about your feelings! You promised you’d stay by her side, not leave her to fight alone and use her for your own personal gain, that’s not a friendship!” 

“Oh, here we go,” she laughed, “It’s always about YN.” 

You wanted to speak up, to ask them what that meant, but before you could, Sunghoon was reaching for you. 

He’s heard enough. He’s HAD enough. He couldn’t let this conversation continue, not when she might spill everything. 

He pulled you to his side, pushing you in the direction towards the exit door, “YN, baby, let’s go.” 

“How long did you think you could hide? Hmm?” 

Both you and Sunghoon stopped walking. 

“I’ve known for a while now,” you turned and faced her, waiting for her to finish, “You think I wouldn’t notice? Wouldn't notice either of your cars at each other's apartments?” 

Sunghoon laughed, “So you’re stalking us now? That’s so fucking low.” 

“How could I not? Not after I saw the two of you leaving that diner downtown a while ago,” 

She’s known since the beginning.

“I thought maybe, at first, you two were just hanging out again. I minded my business. But then I thought, hmm, I should surprise visit YN. And I bet you could imagine my surprise when I pulled up to her apartment and saw your car parked there and her riding your dick on her couch.” your face flushed, embarrassed, “Maybe next time make sure your blinds are closed before fucking in the living room.” 

Sunghoon sighed, pulling you closer to him. He felt like shit because of all this happening to you. 

“This doesn’t excuse your shitty stalking behavior,” Sunghoon said. 

She shrugged, “I only caught you by coincidence at first, the second time surprised me too. The rest I had to ask around campus to find out.” 

Sunghoon was getting more pissed by the second, “YN doesn’t deserve this!!” 

“You’re so right!” she clapped her hands, “She does deserve better friends, I know. We were so shitty to her. But you know what she also deserves? The truth.” 

The…truth?

Sunghoon shook his head, “No, let’s go,” he tried pushing you toward the exit again, he wasn’t ready for you to hear what she was about to say. 

You forced Sunghoon off you, taking a few steps back towards her, “What truth do I deserve to know?” 

Mostly since Sunghoon seemed so set on me leaving just now. 

Your friend smirked, “The truth about the reason why we broke up in the first place.” 

Sunghoon snapped her name, “Keep your fucking mouth shut!” 

You look back at him, “What is so goddamn secretive?” 

Sunghoon sighed, his eyes dropping to the floor. 

You looked back at her, “Well??” 

“The reason we broke up was because of you.” she crossed her arms over her chest, eyes darting at Sunghoon. 

“Because of me?” You couldn’t wrap your head around why, “W-what did I do?” 

“You didn’t do anything, YN,” Sunghoon finally said. 

“Then…why…” 

“Because he’s in love with you,” you stood there frozen, “He confessed to me a few months before we broke up on how deeply in love with you he was.” she said snarky, “That he caught feelings for you early on into our relationship, but kept it hidden all those years until he couldn’t. The guilt ate him up. Plus I caught him practically eye fucking you at one of the last parties we all attended together.” 

You looked back at Sunghoon, his eyes glossed over. He’s been in love with you the entire time you’ve known him? 

“It’s truly sad, isn’t it?” your friend continued, “The night we fought, was me making him promise to never come near you again. Guess it worked for a while.” 

“Why would you promise that!” You yelled at him, “Why would you even agree to that?!” 

“Because I still cared about her!” Sunghoon shook his head, “I wanted to respect her wishes, I wanted to respect you! You had no feelings towards me whatsoever, and after the last couple shitty months of my relationship with her, I wanted you to heal and find peace with losing me, had I known she would also walk away from you, I would have never let you go.” 

“Why did you stay with her as long as you did if you wanted me?” It was a shitty question to ask, but you had to know. 

“Because I was already a shitty person for falling in love with my girlfriend’s best friend. I didn’t want to hurt either of you. So I kept my feelings hidden until they eventually overflowed to the point I couldn’t contain it.” 

With tears in your eyes, you stomped over to him, fists hitting his chest, “Why would you leave me then?! I needed you!” you cried it all out, releasing the frustration, and he just took it, “Do you know how lonely I was when you left? How terrible I felt watching you walk away that night? I lost part of my soul.” 

Sunghoon pulled you to him, “Baby I know and I am so fucking sorry I did that to you.” 

You cried into his chest, fingers gripping his shirt. Too many emotions were fighting you at all once. You were the sole reason your best friends broke up, how could you not feel like shit?

You pushed yourself off him, turning back towards your friend, “What is your excuse for leaving me?” 

Her facial expression tightened, “How could I have stayed? Every time I looked at you all I could remember was the fact that my boyfriend wanted you, not me.” 

Fair enough. But that was also such a shotty excuse. 

“Guess our friendship didn’t mean shit to you,” you scoffed, “A boy meant more to you than I did. Meant more than our lifetime of friendship.” 

She had nothing to say to that, just thinned her lips in a line, looking away. 

“I’ve heard enough,” you softly said, “Take me home, please Sunghoon.” 

He nodded, extending out his hand for you to take it, and you did. The two of you walking away.

“Enjoy my seconds, YN.” 

Oh, she did not.

Sunghoon beat you to running his mouth, “At least YN pleases me. You should see the mess she makes of me since you want to stalk us so bad.” 

You bit the insides of your cheeks to keep from laughing, was their sex life that bad?

Her face turned red you could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears, “Go to hell Sunghoon! It’s where you belong!” 

He chuckled, “Gladly, I’d give up every piece of heaven for YN.” 

She rolled her eyes, it was always about you. It’s always been you for him. 

“Oh and by the way,” Sunghoon added, “I know you cheated on me multiple times with Mark from calculus, way before I confessed my feelings for YN. So us breaking up wasn’t just because of her. Suck a dick.” 

Sunghoon wrapped an arm around you, a smirk on his face as you both listened to her yelling more nonsense. 

—

He drove you home and walked you into your apartment. 

“I really am sorry, YN.” Sunghoon wrapped you into his arms, “I never wanted to hurt you.” 

You cupped his face, thumbs wiping the tears that fell, “Don’t ever apologize, okay? You were caught in a situation.” 

“It’s no excuse,” he took your hands in his, “I love you, I always have. I shouldn’t have walked away.” 

You just nodded, standing on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his nose, “I love you, Park Sunghoon. You’re with me now, and that’s all that matters.”

It was true. He was so lucky to have you. To finally have you after waiting for you for so long. 

Thank god he decided to try that coffee shop out. 

“Was sex with her really that bad?” you asked, a giggle escaping. 

He laughed too, “Yeah, never came once.” 

“I guess that means I win in that department too since I make such a mess outta you,” 

Sunghoon bit his lip, sliding his hands to squeeze your waist, “Keep talking like that and I’ll ruin you.” 

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips then escaped his arms, running towards your bedroom, “Can’t ruin me if I make a mess of you first.” 

Sunghoon chased after you, his heart pounding at the happiness on your face. 

God, he really was the luckiest man alive.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 6

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Here we are on book 2!

I took a couple days off because my body was perishing (read: my uterus was being a little bitch) but I am back :D

Today's tea is an apple crumble with milk and sugar and my little reading buddy (Charlie) has returned for this chapter Extra Needy and sporting his new necktie.

Let's get into this long chapter:

And we start three years later! I was wondering if there was going to be a time jump and there is! :) p9

Why is everyone so thirsty in this world RE: Ning YingYing p10

Oh dang. I really want to know what's making people melt into skeletons p13

Shen Qingqiu is such a vibe" I know I am physically useless, but i'm also a walking encyclopedia so I bring that to the party" p14 honestly same

So many corpses in the water!! p18

Oh shit, what the heck Wu Chen's legs? p22

RE: Wu Chen I did lol at "Great Master, you call this a bit uncomfortable?!" p 22

this totally feels more like a curse than a standard plague p24

why am I laughing so hard at "fuck me, with this speed, they wouldn't lose to a runner doing the 100-metre hurdles! 'Old Lady'? Yeah right! I must be blind!"p26

oooo! Gongyi Xiao is back! p28

Baby is back too!! Luo Binghe! pp29-31

omg and now there is a height difference! Shen qinqgiu being the smol one p32

Re: on the subject of thinking it was a curse like 15 pages ago, it is not a curse. I don't know why I thought it would be literally anything other than demons LOL this is the plot of the entire fictional universe of this book p37

Luo Binghe still only has eyes for Shen Qingqiu- even after being tossed into hell p38

I truly love the inner monologue of Shen Qingqiu's thoughts vs what people just kind of assume he's feeling. SQQ: Luo Binghe has brainwashed these disciples, he is definitely coming for me, I am fucked. Everyone else: this poor man misses his student so much, he is so hurt that Luo Binghe didn't go back to him.

LOL at Luo Binghe's hatefire at seeing SQQ and Gongyi Xiao bonding together p42

I can't XD SQQ: I have a huge announcement guys, Luo Binghe is back!!!! Everyone else: who tf is that? RIP p44

no shit that demonic activity increasing in frequency is 100% indeed a bad omen. p47

I'm crying SQQ thinks Luo BInghe is about to kill him p48

not the magpie bridge reference p50

This man is just crushing his windpipe for funsies -> why do I feel like this is their dynamic? p50

SQQ is actually an idiot. This fool is continuously operating under the assumption that nothing in the story has changed and the original story is guaranteed. If he heard these words and responded appropriately he'd probably be fine RE: "Then why did you tell me not to put too much weight on race and that no one is intolerable to the heavens" p55

Goddamn is Luo Binghe just going to keep beating the shit out of SQQ?? pp57-59

He really made him drink his blood (side note: when this is all said and done, I need to read some vampire aus) What even is that blood going to do to him?? (do not actually tell me, I assume I will find out soonish) p59

I am once again here to talk about how utterly Fucked SQQ is. He still has 0 idea that Luo Binghe has absolutely claimed him p65

Oh dang. Still, even after all this, SQQ has not shaken his original fate of being hated p69

Bro should have let Qi Qingyi finish that sentence. Re: out of his mind with grief" also probably would have changed some things (even if he was embarrassed as hell) p71

omg so much happening in this scene rn AND then Shen Qingqiu's ex shows up out of no where?!?!?!?!??!!? p73

this man truly cannot catch a break p75

holy shit not even his ex- his wife??????? p75

oop, we have SQQ backstory reveal p77

But also with this reveal: it's a little weird for her though. Like her family takes in this kid from the street, makes him a servant. He continues to serve them, his "family" starts to view him a sibling, AND THEN they get betrothed (not married). Like what. This is wild poor guy- weird because sibling dynamics, also he was their servant. I think she is the weird one honestly. p77

okay, well, he did kill her brother LOL p78

the water prison does not sound good. p81

he really wants to try and last a month there??? best of luck buddy, he cant even handle riding in a carriage without a snack p85

Bonus picture with no notes!

I'm actually so excited for the water prison- it sounds vile, but I need to know how he get's out/how his relationship with Luo Binghe progresses.

[sakuraharukaaa]

just a short, fluffy fanfic about my baby son that I wrote in like an hour ♥♥ too lazy to publish on ao3 for now, but maybe later

word count: 1197 words

It’s the smallest things in life. The little things that slowly creep into his daily life until they become a part of his routine. 

People are so adaptable, Haruka can’t help but think. It’s somewhat of a motto, though the connotation used to be negative in the past. He used to think of himself as someone durable who can withstand whatever life throws on him. He always believed that staying firm would keep him safe in the troubling currents of life. He didn’t realize that he, too, can change so much. 

It starts with Nirei, who shows him a pack of tea he got the day earlier. 

“It’s my favorite!” He says ever so enthusiastically. He insists on Haruka drinking it. 

But I don’t like tea that much. It stands on the tip of his tongue, yet he doesn’t say it. The taste is just okay. Barely passable, if he’d be honest, but for some reason he cannot refuse when Nirei shoves the almost-full box into his hands. 

He writes it off as something to put in his cabinet, a single box in an empty shelf – what a laughable idea. He can’t really drink it though, since he doesn’t own a kettle.

Suou is always too perceptive. Haruka finds it mildly annoying, especially when he sticks too close to Nirei. Something about an instinct to tell him off, to tell him that Haruka knew him first, and he shouldn’t be so chummy with Nirei. 

Whatever. 

That weasel approaches a couple of days later, talking about Nirei’s favorite tea, because of course he’d know about it. 

“It is quite good, I was surprised.” His smile is odd and sometimes uncomfortable, but Haruka learned to live with it. The hostility wasn’t targeted towards him, it’s just a general warning. “You should drink good tea in a good cup.” 

So he gives Haruka a weird mug with some calligraphy on it. It’s not legible, in no way it is, and Haruka still doesn’t own a kettle. 

He mentions the kettle debacle – off handedly, really – to Kotoha, and she immediately breaks into laughter. It’s a strange noise and he’s about to comment about it, when she suddenly stops. 

“Hold on, do I have an old one?” She speaks quietly, more to herself rather than to him. “It has to be an electric one.” And she leaves for the back storage room without saying a thing. 

Trust her to be a problem solver, of course. She emerges from the storage room with an old, gray kettle. 

“You have to be careful with the cord.” She says with a shy smile that doesn’t suit her. “If you pull too strongly on it, it will expose the wires.” And only then Haruka notices the tape around the end of the cord, a shoddy fix he assumes. 

Honestly? It’s better than nothing. 

So he takes the kettle. 

(Haruka doesn’t even like tea, he’s more of a coffee guy. 

He could make coffee with the kettle in his home, if he so desires, but it takes a long time until he realizes that. By then, he finds an appropriate excuse – he cannot make coffee as good as Kotoha’s with this old thing. 

Better stick to the tea.)

The next one is Umemiya, who somehow heard about the kettle incident. Probably got the information from Kotoha by torture (read: annoying her). He thinks it’s okay to turn it into a charity case, or so Haruka assumes because he never truly understands him. 

So he stops Haruka after a long, long day where nothing worked out, and his big, dumb smile is too blinding right now. 

“I hear you’re furnishing your room!” He’s far too energetic and Haruka grits his teeth. 

APARTMENT, not room, he almost says, and he doesn’t believe that a single box of tea and an ugly mug and an old kettle warrant the use of the word furnishing. It’s literally three items. 

“I thought I’d give you this!” At first Haruka doesn’t realize what this is, until he notices that the hand holding a pot is extended towards him. 

“No way.” He flat out refuses. He can’t believe he was called to the rooftop for this shit. Behind Umemiya, Hiragi is giving him a resigned sympathetic look. 

Umemiya has plenty of reasons why he should take the plant – of course he does! – and at some point Hiragi exasperatedly signs him to give up. 

His pride takes somewhat of a hit when he comes home with that plant that evening. 

(Sugishita gave him a watering can. 

That bastard actually gave him a watering can. 

He doesn’t say anything but he leaves it on Haruka’s desk alongside fucking four pages of how to take care of plants. 

Jesus Christ.)

It’s after a training session when he goes around the neighborhood with Kaji on a semi-patrol (more like an excuse to get candies because Kaji was running low and Haruka didn’t want to test his patience). Haruka doesn’t eat that stuff so he buys a drink at the vending machine next to the store. When he puts the change straight into his pocket, he catches Kaji’s slanted eyes judging him. 

“Really? That’s barbaric.” And Haruka has to summon all of his self restraint to stop himself from saying that Kaji is the barbaric one for making the nasty lump on the back of Haruka’s head. He doesn’t need another one to match the first. 

The next day, he receives a coin purse. A bit worn out at the seams, but it looks it was taken good care of. He is silent when Kaji hands him that, already knowing not to put up a fight. 

Haruka, unfortunately, doesn’t like coin purses or wallets, so he leaves it on the window sill, next to the plant. It doesn’t feel like it belongs inside the kitchen’s cabinets, so the window sill it is. 

Over the next weeks, it becomes worse. He gets a phone case from Kiryuu – a pink one with cherry blossoms to match his name, and he gets a huge water bottle from Tsugeura that was supposed to have some motivational quote on it, but Suou points out the English doesn’t make sense. When the other guys catch wind of that, they start giving him small things too. It is mostly stationary, but some of his classmates went to town on it. Someone gave him a small radio, which was neat and actually useful, but on the other hand, he got a fucking fork with a handle that was painted like a train. He did use it though, because no one was there to judge him for that when he was eating, and it certainly was more useful than the hot girl calendar he got. 

It’s all so odd when he’s home during the weekend, and he’s drinking tea from his ugly mug and eating with his train fork and staring at the plant on his window sill. It did grow nicely, that he has to admit, and somewhere along the way, it grew on him. 

That doesn’t mean he’s going to take on that offer for a second plant though. 

[plazmafields]

I've been trying to think recently why I find the age gap with V and Kerry to be endearing, when normally I feel an age gap over 10 years is problematic. Here's what I think:

(Long rambling ahead along with minor spoilers maybe)

There is a power imbalance between V and Kerry, in multiple ways. Kerry is much older, yes, but he also makes a lot more money. Like shit tons of money. The first time I romanced Kerry, I thought the romance arch was lacking because of the way Kerry never initiated. However, taking into account that V is 23, Kerry's tendency to wait for V to make the first move actually feels very appropriate.

Kerry's dealing with a lot of mixed emotions about Johnny being back. The fact that he never processed his inferiority complex while Johnny was alive, then as soon as Johnny died he jumped right into an ego-driven, spite-fueled solo career that took him straight to the top, and now Johnny's back as a digital parasite? And Kerry has a crush on his host?? Wild.

I think that's ONE of the reasons Kerry doesn't flirt with V outright: he's super confused about the way he feels about V, and whether or not those feelings are overlapping with the way he feels about Johnny. Is he so excited to see Johnny that he could just smooch him (platonic)? Is he simply grateful to V for pulling him out of a depressive episode? Is he still a little horny for Johnny like when they first formed Samurai? Is being attracted to someone 70 years younger than him the first sign of a life crisis starting? Maybe Kerry would rather be safe than sorry, and not act on his feelings for V while he's processing all that other stuff.

This shifts the power back into V's hands, who really doesn't have a lot of control over how the media will interpret their relationship, even if it remains platonic (vs. Kerry who has lawyers, and past experience with the media and dating while in the spotlight). This gives V the opportunity to decide if there are any romantic feelings there, instead of falling for the advances of someone very influential and rich. Those two facts could very easily convince someone that their starstruck reaction was actually love. This way, if V is in control of initiation, Kerry can be sure that he's not coercing V into starting anything they may not fully want; a relationship with ramifications V may not be fully aware of. He can be sure V's decision was not inadvertently rushed by anything Kerry may have said/done.

In our world, age gaps in gay relationships are not treated the same as they are in straight relationships, especially when it comes to gay men. I am not saying this is good or bad. But, it is a "trope", one could say, that younger gay men sometimes gravitate toward men many years older than them. I personally feel this is two fold: older gay men who are out publicly may find it hard to find others in their age range who are unashamed of their queerness, due to internalized social pressure. And younger gay men may find it difficult to navigate their sexuality on their own as it applies to daily life (specifically in American culture) and seek the guidance of veteran gays. If we translate that trend into the Cyberpunk world, where life expectancy is DECADES longer than ours, then perhaps Night Citizens wouldn't bat an eye at someone in their 20s dating someone in their 80s. (I'm sure that gap is stretching things a bit even for Cyberpunk standards, but maybe 30s dating 60s isn't uncommon.)

Another aspect of this is something they mention out right during Boat Drinks: Kerry doesn't act his age. He's getting there, but he's got the maturity of someone around V's age. I truly believe his stunted growth as a person is due to being constantly discredited and invalidated by Johnny. I mean, Kerry doesn't seem to have much in common with his former band mates, who have all moved on with their lives and found their versions of success (except maybe Henry). The people he gets along with best are a group of 20-something pop stars from a different part of the world, and V, also in their 20s. Kerry has been trying to prove himself for so long that his personality got stuck somewhere between starting Samurai and Johnny dying.

Lastly, I just wanna point out that V and Kerry's relationship as presented to us in game, with no outside context or deliberation, is inherently problematic. The age gap, the power imbalance, the wealth disparity, V possibly being a symptom of Kerry's three-quarter life crisis or a rebound or the second best thing to Johnny; Johnny being in the picture at all. A relationship doesn't have to be perfect for someone to like it, and it certainly doesn't reflect what they find acceptable in their own relationships. It's all fiction, it's all fantasy. If you want to theorize about how Kerry and V actually have a super healthy relationship, that's awesome! If you love the idea that they just kind of wound up together and this isn't a permanent situation for either of them, that's great! If you believe the relationship is completely toxic and you're loving the drama of it all, that's cool too!

With what the game has given us, and the fact that Kerry's writers' work could be interpreted in endless ways, I think the age gap was handled in such a way that it can be excused (or even played into) if you feel it works with your headcanon, or used as a catalyst for drama if that suits your imagination better. What's important is that it never feels predatory. And to me, that's good writing.

With my personal headcanon for my oc of V, I've decided his relationship with Kerry is perfectly passable. They're not a perfect couple, they lack communication skills and often butt heads over the other's tendency to put work over their relationship (both of them stubbornly insisting only the other one has a problem), but I like them that way.

[lyricalt]

[tf2 mini fic] roll over

BLU and RED spies take a smoke break together.

(Implied R!Sniper/R!Spy, PG)

bonus scene: the sequel for all bite. There was no way to fit it neatly in the main fic so here it is.

---

There is something different about RED Sniper. 

BLU Spy considers the body, slumped awkwardly in its seat. He taps his foot in contemplation.

Something is off. It bothers him that he cannot quite place it, but he has an instinct for this kind of thing. He remembers the way RED’s sniper had turned a little too late from the window. That flash of annoyance across his face had been fun to see, per usual, and he’d died quite appropriately to the butterfly knife. 

At the risk of soiling his shoes with blood, BLU Spy kicks the body so that it falls to the floor, splayed out and arms akimbo. He cranes his neck and pulls out his disguise kit.

After a moment, he blinks. Ah-hah. He sees it now. The change. He snorts, flipping through his paper masks until he finds the one with RED Sniper’s face on it.

“How interesting,” he says with a laugh, and takes a pen out from his pocket to make the correction.

---

There is a secluded backdoor in one of the factories with an awning that hardly anyone uses. The spies tend to take their ten minute smoke break there, away from the main battle but still close enough to hear whatever’s going on. It’s irrelevant on when the daily smoke break occurs, but this time BLU Spy leaves a note for an early meeting.

They smoke in silence for a bit. Both are leaning against the wall with the locked door between them. 

BLU Spy speaks up first, letting his arm fall back to his side, flicking ash from his cigarette. “There’s a possibility I had to update my disguise kit because of you.”

“Hm? Someone on my team wearing a new hat?” RED Spy asks.

They speak in the privacy of French, casual and pleasant, because it’s their only chance in the day to not be so secretive. A nice ten minutes to shoot the shit.

“No. It was something very subtle. But you know me, always obsessing over details.” BLU Spy pauses, just shy of being dramatic, because he can’t very well hold it in. He’s been waiting ages to speak to his counterpart today. 

“You do have an eye for them, Bleu. Well?”

“Your sniper, Monsieur Rouge,” Bleu says, watching RED Spy very carefully. “The one with the, hm, ‘keen eyes’ and ‘fast trigger’.” After a moment, he gleefully punches RED’s arm. “You sly dog.”

For three seconds, Rouge’s expression is one of perfect blankness. Bleu is about to congratulate him on his poise when Rogue shoots up from the wall to grab Bleu’s upper arm, shaking it with such intensity that Bleu fears his arm might vibrate out of its socket.

“No. Don’t tell me he’s wearing that. Not in public,” RED Spy starts, so aghast he abandons his carefully cultivated European French and slips back into his natural Quebecois accent. “This can’t be. I didn’t think he would-”

“I saw it myself.” Bleu shuffles the paper masks in his kit and carefully removes Rouge’s grip off him when he almost drops the entire stack. “Would you like to see? I’ve already added it to my repertoire.”

Rouge has since launched into a litany of “no no no no no no no, he can’t do this to me-” while Bleu takes his time finding the right mask. A second cigarette makes an appearance in Rogue’s fingers. He begins to smoke both at the same time. It’s a nostalgic sight to see. Bleu has not seen Rouge double fist cigarettes since their days at the university during final exams. 

Rouge hisses, “Please, M. Bleu, don’t put that o-”

Pleading hands grasp at his sleeve to no effect. Bleu slips on the disguise. Poor Rouge looks like he wants to perish on the spot from sheer mortification. His eyes dart to BLU Spy’s throat.

There is nothing at Bleu’s neck. Rouge would see his sniper’s RED uniform in perfect order, not a hair or button out of place.

BLU Spy lifts the kukri illusion, pointing to a very nice piece of strap fitted along the shoulder, a touch thicker than the rest of the sling. At first glance, it appears to be a nice lanyard to hang an extra carabiner on the shiny metal ring. 

Or perhaps something else could be clipped on such a fine metal ring. Who could say.

“Quite subtle indeed,” Bleu says, imitating RED Sniper’s voice, though the intonation is entirely wrong. He smiles, serene, and doesn’t hesitate to deal a killing blow in the form of a head tilt and a playful, “Arf-arf.”

There is a third cigarette between Rouge’s fingers. He squats down and smokes them all in silence, sucking them down to the filter. He looks like he wishes for the ground to swallow him up.

They still have four minutes left of their break so Bleu takes pity on the man and pulls off the mask. The disguise fizzes away, leaving him back in his blue suit. He pats Rouge’s shoulder and joins him squating on the ground, forearms resting on his knees. There’s only so much aloof leaning against a wall that he can take in a day. 

He nudges Rouge. “It’s going well, I take it?”

A sullen pause seems to be the only answer Rouge is willing to give until he finishes his cigarettes. After brushing off a credible amount of ash away, he grumbles, ”Yes.”

“Ah, my dear, so it really would’ve never worked out between us. How could I have competed with a piss-smelling hobo living in a dirty van? But don’t fret, sweet rival of mine, I still hold a special place in my heart from our delightful fraternity days-”

“Disgusting. Awful. Should you not wait to enact psychological warfare upon me until after our ten? At least you’ll be paid for the effort,” Rouge says stiffly. He sighs, rubbing his temples. “Take me back to Respawn. I need more ammo and cigarettes.” 

Rouge hands him a blade. Bleu cackles, not minding that Rouge has somehow stolen his own butterfly knife off him. Quite talented at that, those quick hands, even amongst other spies. 

“But of course,” he says, and slits RED Spy’s throat neatly.

For a very entertaining day ahead of him, it’s the least he can do 

---

Sniper gets cornered on the way to supper after his shift. It’s Spy, who looks unusually harried. 

“Promise me,” Spy says, serious, “Promise me you will not wear that thing around your neck in public.”

Sniper almost sputters. Awfully bold of Spy to bring it up in the middle of the hallway, in public, which seems like the opposite of what he wants. That thing could only mean one item in particular. Sniper puts up his hands, hissing softly, “There's a reason why I became a sniper, spook. I like hidin’ and stayin’ out of sight. You think, of all people, that I’d be an exhibitionist?” 

He truly cannot think of a worst thing to do. It’s a hard pass, if Spy ever asks this sort of thing from him, and Sniper wonders if this is going to be some kind of boundary-setting conversation. He hopes it isn’t. Not in the middle of the hallway and not right before supper. He’ll have to take his meal up in a tree if the conversation goes poorly—he can already feel a haunting embarrassment creeping in.

“Are you?” Spy asks.

“No!”

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

Note:

RED Spy = French Canadian

BLU Spy = Cajun

Neither are European French, though they both speak it professionally. (Professional Frenchmen.)

I suppose the reason Sniper thinks he sucks at learning French (on his own) is probably because Spy is speaking French Canadian in their private moments. Ah well!

[radiant-reid]

Oooh! Can we get a blurb on this?

I need to visualize this for my daily scenarios

Yup !! I got three requests for this omg

Spencer’s the only boyfriend you’ve ever had who has volunteered to come clothing shopping, knowing there’s nothing at the mall he wants to buy or look at. He’s not like the other boyfriends standing outside stores looking at their phones, texting their girlfriends to hurry up.

No, Spencer is all in with you, and you’re grateful for it. He has an eye for patterns that’ll look good on you and he’s very attentive.

It seems like the perfect afternoon together, until he notices a dress you’ve picked up, interested in trying on. “You’ll need a bigger size than that.” He tells you. “At least one size bigger, but I can go and grab both one size bigger and two sizes bigger.”

His offer seems helpful and his eyes are caring but you’re heartbroken. Totally heartbroken.

It breaks your heart before you can tell yourself it’s silly, that he didn’t mean it as a criticism because he probably didn’t, he’s sweet Spencer. But it hurts deep down.

It’s not the appropriate thing to say and the connotations are a total whiplash to the sweet compliments he was giving you a minute ago.

Spencer doesn’t notice what he’s said, going back to sifting through another rack of dresses while you stand there paralyzed.

But you can’t bare to witness him hand you something to try on two sizes bigger than you expect it so you shallowly speak up. “I think I’m done.”

He’s taken off guard by your sharpness and sudden lack of enthusiasm, but he agrees nonetheless. “Okay… do you still want to get gelato on the way out?”

You shake your head firmly. “No, I don’t want any of that.”

He knows something is wrong then, but he doesn’t know if it was even him. It could have been a text you got that upset you, so you go home without a word of protest from him.

You’re not the same that night, he notices. You barely seem interested in having him at your apartment, not even starting on the fashion show you promised to give where you showed him the right tops that would work with your new jeans.

“What happened?” He asks, looking at you with worry as his deductions come together. Well, half come together. “I messed up somehow and I’m really sorry because I am trying to be the perfect boyfriend.”

You know that, and you can’t ignore how perfect he’s been so far so you nod, agreeing to yourself to be honest with him. “What you said about me needing a bigger size kind of hurt.”

It takes a moment for it to compute in his brain but you notice when it does because his eyes cloud with tears. “Y/n, no I didn’t mean it like that.” He frantically promises. “I was just trying to be helpful and it was so dumb and I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, not wanting him to be as upset as he looks. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not.” He argues. “I’m so used to profiling people I didn’t see how that could be hurtful and for that I’m very sorry.”

You nod. “Thank you. I know it wasn’t meant to be critical.”

“But it felt like that in the moment.” He adds, exactly what you’re thinking. “Shit, sorry I shouldn’t have done that.”

You grab his hands in yours, holding them firmly. “Spence, I love how observed you are, please don’t stop doing that. Just maybe no comments besides compliments about how I look.”

He quickly nods, eager to please. “I promise. You’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met, you know?” He asks you.

That’s the Spencer observations you’re used to having and you grin. “Thank you.”

[dreamwatch]

STWG daily drabble - 05/10/23

Prompt: quiet

****

Working nights meant that Wayne could be home for Eddie when it mattered. There in the morning to get him off to school, there in the afternoon to make sure he ate and started his homework. Despite what the good folks of Hawkins thought, Forest Hill’s was a safe neighbourhood, with good people. Good people that watched over Eddie at night. It all worked out fine.

Except when he got phone calls in the middle of the day calling him to the school. That was not fine. That pissed him off royally.

Another fight. Thing is, Eddie is a good kid but he’s hot headed, has a temper a little like his father. And if you rile him up just enough he will go off like a rocket. The other kids know this. So they push his buttons and Eddie being Eddie won’t stand down. And so… another fight, and another phone call to see Principal Higgins.

He’s ushered into the the principal’s office and sees Eddie sitting there, knee jiggling up and down at hundred miles an hour. It jangles Wayne’s nerves and he wants to reach over and hold it still. Until he notices the tissue shoved up Eddie’s nose, and the purpling eye and cheek. Eddie looks up at him like he’s on death row, so he pats him on the shoulder and gives him a little squeeze. The knee jiggling calms.

“Mister Munson, thank you for coming. I think you can see why you’ve been called to the school.”

Wayne’s eyes flick between Eddie and Principal Higgins, Eddie steadfastly looking at the floor, Principal Higgins eyes sharp and beady.

“I can see someone beat my boy.”

Higgins shuffles some paper on his desk. “Mister Munson, Edward started a fight- “

“I did not,” Eddie pipes up, shaking his head, still looking at the floor.

“Edward started a fight,” Higgins repeats, raising his voice over Eddie’s, “with another boy, during the middle of an English class. This is not behaviour we can condone at Hawkins High, I’m sure you’re aware of that, we’ve called you here enough times.”

Wayne has never liked this man. His tone, his shifty eyes, his three strands of hair combed across the top of his balding head.

“Are you aware that Edward’s grades are such that he will not be graduating?”

No. No he was not. And it takes every ounce of strength not to look at Eddie and give that little nugget over to this shit of a man.

“Your point?” he asks.

Principal Higgins sighs. “My point, Mister Munson,” and there’s that fucking tone again, patronising asshole, “is that with Edward’s behavioural issues, and his lack of academic ability, it may be wise to consider if high school is the best option for him, or if leaving school and getting a job, perhaps gaining a trade, would be more appropriate.”

“Eddie doesn’t have ‘behavioural issues’.”

“Mister Munson, I have worked in the school system for over thirty years. I know when a child has behavioural issues. With Edward’s… troubled upbringing that’s obviously to be expected. Up to a point.”

Wayne is vibrating with anger, and he can feel Eddie beside him, coiled and ready to pounce. Wayne reaches across and drops his hand on Eddie’s shoulder. Half for comfort, half to keep him in place.

“Principal Higgins. I have been called to this school a number of times over the years. Different fights, with different boys, but you know something? I don’t remember a single time Eddie didn’t take the fall for some snot nosed pissant-“

“Mister Munson!”

“I’m talking now. Some varsity basketball player or wrestler starts mouthing off at my boy to get him to bite and they get their feelings hurt when he does. But it’s Eddie that comes off worse, or ends up with a suspension. Every single time. Because heaven forbid they muddy their records before they start applying for their scholarships, right?

“And you talk about his failing school. Eddie’s smart. He’s good at math, he writes stories, and he’s always read above his age group. He reads about history, and not just the little bit you teach him here. So maybe Eddie’s not failing school. Maybe the school is failing Eddie.”

They stare at each other across the desk for a few moments, and Wayne is delighted. He has this asshat on the back foot.

“You okay over there, Principal Higgins? You’re awful quiet.”

Wayne gets up and taps Eddie on the shoulder to follow him.

“My son will not be in school for the rest of the week on account of the injuries suffered under the watchful eye of one of your own teachers. He’ll be back on Monday.” He leads Eddie out, but before they leave he turns back to face the principal.

“Oh and one more thing. Eddie will be back in the fall, and I know you and your excellent teaching staff will be giving him all the support he needs to graduate.” Higgins looks about ready to explode, and Wayne is delighted. “Have a good day, Principal.”

[tsunotarou]

     Urges, Nagi had… urges. At times he wishes he didn't have any urges, cause it's a hassle to search and find something to fulfill said fucking urge. He just finished streaming for twelve hours. What was he doing? Well… he played minecraft for an hour, then spent the rest on XIV doing his dailies, crafting, and weekly resets. In between that he had snacked on a few things; chips, candies, the bento box that Reo had personally made from one of his chefs. Shit like that. What's great about streaming is that nobody really knows what his personal life was. His chat did know that he lived with someone though they didn't know who that exact someone was.

      He'd get asked about Reo all the time. Didn't bother him, not one bit. Fans tend to stay with their idols until a controversial moment appears. Nagi made sure to keep any Reo-related things out of view from his camera. Including the damn toy that was proudly sitting on the nightstand, nearly in frame of said camera.  He'd earn a good portion today, too, promising his viewers that he'll do another subathon if soccer doesn't take all his time. He's still on hiatus. 

       He tripled checked to make sure everything was turned off on his screen; it wouldn't be appropriate if he just got up, stripped out of his clothes then changed into pajamas. He's doing his best to avoid being banned. Nagi perks up at the sound of the door being opened, twisting halfway in his chair to see Reo— walking into his ‘ man cave ‘. “Oh, welcome home, work was okay?” Ever since his boyfriend announced his pregnancy, Nagi's been more attentive? If that was one way to put it. It’s only been a week since that announcement… he was lingering his gaze on his stomach to see if anything would be different. Nope. Flat, toned, not even the smallest amount of chub around the heir’s perfect frame. When he’s bored he looks up things about pregnancy; how men can experience ‘ parental postpartum depression ‘, the birth giver can go through more hardships than the men can. It’s intriguing, he’ll give it that… but he doesn’t think Reo will do anything to risk their newborn child. Neither will he. He has no reason to do anything drastic, why would he? It’s a hassle to risk it all for something inevitable, right? He’s listening to Reo ramble about his day, brown hues fixated on the heir walk around the room that was decorated with their trophies from games, Nagi’s bookcase that was filled with manga and video games. There’s some pictures that were off to the far right side of the room; photos of them visiting England, Paris, others had their friends in it. 

               Reo’s talking about… some shit. His father? No, nobody wants to hear about how Mr. Mikage has his head constantly up his ass. When the day strikes that that old man kicked the bucket, he thinks he’ll propose to Reo right away. Fucked as ever, doing that is borderline psychotic. Maybe that’s too close to comfort. He didn’t care. The quicker the guy’s dead the faster he and Reo can live their lives normally. “ … Reo, “ he spoke up after the heir finished talking, finally taking a glance at him as he spun completely in his chair to face him. Nagi wanted him. Just for a little, he can be selfish without meaning to— it’s not his fault that he’s attracted to nothing else that wasn’t Reo. Reo’s his world, his life, his damn being. One hand lightly rubbed against his left thigh, over the bagged jeans he was wearing,  non-verbally signaling that he wanted the other to come closer.

  “... I want your mouth on me.” Vague. His expression stayed blank, fixated on the expression that would morph over the heir’s perfect face. Watching, waiting. Will he get it? The itch that had to be scratched? Possibly…. Reo’s in a good mood ( or so he thinks ), and he’ll be damned if he gets denied. That’ll be embarrassing. Where was he supposed to put all this pent up frustration? It would be less ‘ romantic ‘ if he outwardly told him that he wants his dick sucked, so…. Nagi takes the softer, ‘ pg-13 approach. ‘   " I'm frustrated. " Coded for: ' i want reo to take care of me. please. '

Being exhausted was such an understatement for the heir. Perhaps the cold, cloudy weather wasn't helping anyone, but Reo just felt downright exhausted after being at the bureau all day. It'd been like that the past few days. Exhausted, worn out --- all of the above. He didn't really remember being this tired after his day at the office, but now? It dragged, BAD. Reo was still just sitting in his car, even after pulling into the car port. Fingers turned the vehicle off yet the young male just continued to sit there for a bit, his arms slowly lowering into his lap. Violet eyes followed suit, looking down at his own hands silently. Soon enough, it's gonna get a bit difficult to see his lap. Let alone seeing where his feet land when walking. But, that was one of the ailments of carrying your child, right? A small smile graced Reo's face as he lazily rubbed his hand over his flat stomach for a moment ; as if he was about to gaslight himself about feeling his child move. " Let's go see what Daddy's been up to... "

After managing his way inside, after locking and arming everything outside, Reo took it upon himself to finally get comfortable. Bag down, coat off, scarf off, shoes off, slippers on, hair down --- all that was left was to shower and get into comfier clothes. But first, he had to check in on his boyfriend. He remembered the other mentioning something about streaming today, so it was only natural for Reo to pop in and see how that went.

" --- Naagi, I'm home. " Perhaps he should have knocked before just walking in on the other, but it was too late. Reo announced his arrival even before getting the door open. He wasn't met with any drastic measures to get him out of the room ; so it was safe to say that his boyfriend was done streaming. Instead, he was met with the other turning towards him --- welcoming him home and asking if work was alright. The gesture made him smile as the heir continued his way into Nagi's little streaming area.

" Yeah, it was alright. Just like any other day. " Reo walked deeper into the room, dragging his feet a bit. " Father had me consult with our multiple marketing agencies so we can plan for the press release at the end of the week. Then he pulled me in for another meeting about our finances, which I've told him multiple times that I have it handled, and--- " As soon as he heard Nagi speak his name, the heir turned his attention towards his boyfriend. Surely he can't blame him for not wanting to hear his rant about his father and work and business management.

" Hm? " He hummed, catching sight of Nagi fully turning towards him now. He had quite the blank expression on his face, which isnt too different from the usual Nagi expression that he wore. However, something about this one seemed... different. Reo cocked an eyebrow, and as soon as he did, Nagi continued. And when he did, violet eyes widened slightly.

I want your mouth on me. The way he said it sent a chill down his spine. Reo took a step forward, following another without realizing. What does he even mean by that? Did he want a kiss or something? No, apparently Nagi was frustrated. Why was he frustrated? Was he frustrated with Reo? Was it something he did or didn't do? Suddenly, Reo's exhaustion was washed away, and was now replaced with uncertainty as his brows knit together.

" --- Frustrated? " Reo frowned a bit, ending up right in front of Nagi's chair. Leaning down, the heir just cupped the other's face and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Hopefully that would make him feel at least a little better? " I'm sorry you're frustrated... Did you have a bad stream or something? " Thumbs brushed over pale cheeks gently. Another kiss was pressed between those brows. Nagi did say he wanted his mouth on him --- so Reo figured he could just litter him with kisses. That's what he wanted, right? " After I shower, I can play a game with you, if you'd like? Or we can watch a movie or something? "

[canirove]

Declan Rice Imagine | five

Author’s note: This is a request an anon sent me earlier this month with the prompt "So you're sure you love me?" "We've been together for five years and we're getting married next month, what do you think?". It is a lot shorter than what I usually write, but this is the only thing my brain was able to come up with 😅 Hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜

Masterlist

“I think we may have some of those left in the other room. Let me go check.”

“Thank you” Declan smiles as the florist leaves us alone. “What was that?”

“Uh?”

“That long and deep sigh you just let out.”

“Nothing” I say.

“I know you and it was something. That's what you do when you are worried about something.”

“I'm fine, Declan.”

“You just crossed your arms over your chest.”

“And?”

“And that's another thing you do when something worries you. C'mon, tell me about it” he says, taking my hand on his.

“The florist is gonna be back any moment now.”

“Judging by her face she's probably gonna be gone for a while looking for those flowers, so c'mon” he smiles, squeezing my hand.

“It's… I… Ok” I say, taking a deep breath. “Declan, are you sure that you love me?”

“What?” he laughs. “What kind of question is that?”

“Are you still in love with me?” 

“We've been together for five years and we are getting married next month. Of course I love you!” he chuckles. 

“But… I… It doesn't matter” I say, shaking my head.

“It does matter” he says, caressing my cheek with his other hand and making me look at him. “If it didn't, you would not have asked me something like that or look this worried.”

“It's just… Everything has been a chaos since you asked to marry you, you know? Like, nothing has gone as it should since the moment you got down on one knee, and maybe you are regretting asking me or even being with me because this is like a sign of us not working out. This is the universe telling us to stop.”

“The universe knows shit. I don't regret asking you to marry me, and I definitely don't regret being with you. Asking out has been one of the best decisions of my life, and like I just told you, I love you” he says, emphasising those last three words.

“But everything has kept going wrong, Declan. For example, we started it all with the ring you got me being too big, me almost losing it that day, and then not being able to wear it for months because they had to resize it.”

“And that was all my fault because I got your size wrong. But while we waited for it to be fixed, you got to wear a different one that you got to choose yourself and that you also love and can wear daily, not just on special occasions.”

“That's true, yes. But like I said, that was just the beginning of our problems. The place where we wanted to get married was completely booked for two years, and the next one we liked and that was important for your family, wasn't available either.”

“But they say third time's a charm, and we found a venue that has everything we liked from the first place, and that actually has an important meaning for our families since both your dad and my mum used to spend their holidays in that area when they were kids.”

“Ok, fine. That turned out pretty well. But what about the catering, uh? We have gone crazy looking for one who fitted everything we wanted and that was appropriate for our guests since they have different diets, allergies…”

“That was a bit of a headache, yes” he chuckles. “But thanks to my brother, it is all fixed now and there won't be any problem.”

“The bridesmaids dresses! We are a month away, and the girls still haven't received them!”

“But you already found a plan b, didn't you? And the dress that matters is yours, and that one is ready for the big day.”

“The flowers" I continue. "Another thing we don't have ready yet. What if she can't find the ones we want? We can't have a venue without flowers, Declan!”

“And we won't” he says, squeezing my hand again.

“It's been all problem after problem. Can't you see it?”

“We've struggled a bit, yes. But what couple doesn't?”

“It hasn't been just a bit, Declan!” I say while letting go of his hand, some of the other clients looking our way since I've raised my voice more than I should. 

“Ok, we've struggled a lot to make it work. But now we have almost everything under control.”

“Almost, you just said it. And something else can go to hell from here to the actual day. Like my hairdresser getting sick, or the bus that has to take the guests to the venue getting a flat tire, or…”

“Or nothing” he says, putting his hands on my shoulders to try and calm me down. “Organising a wedding is stressful, ok? There are too many things to worry about, and feeling like this is normal. But I'm not going to stop loving you because things haven't gone as smooth as we thought they would.”

“Then you don't... Despite all the problems you don't regret asking me to marry you? Loving me?”

“I don't regret loving you or asking you to marry me, no. In fact…” he says, moving his hands from my shoulders to my waist. “I'm thinking about doing it again.”

“What?” I laugh.

“Asking you to marry me. You have doubts about me not loving you anymore because things aren't going as we would like them to go regarding the wedding, so to show you that I do love you as much as a did when I first asked you, probably even more, and that I regret nothing…” he says, getting on one knee and taking my hand on his. 

“You are crazy” I laugh again.

“For you? I am, yes” he smiles. “So this time I am going to change my question. My love… Would you marry this man who is so crazy in love with you, that he is asking you to marry him again in the middle of a florist's and with people definitely looking at him and thinking, is he ok?”

“Yes, Declan. I want to marry you again even if you are embarrassing me in front of everyone” I chuckle.

“Are you sure? Because this is forever, and me being embarrassing is part of the deal. It will happen again.”

“Oh, don't worry. I've known you are like this since the first time I said yes. It's part of your charm” I tease him.

“That's a bit rude but cute at the same time” he says, standing up. “And looks like we now have to kiss” he says when the few people at the florist's start clapping.

“Yep.”

“But before we do it, there is something I have to say.”

“Ok.”

“I love you. I loved you when I first asked you to marry me, I love you now, and I will love you forever.”

“I love you too, Declan. Forever” I smile before kissing him, the other clients now clapping louder and even cheering for us.

[axeattitude]

@grayboxed : you can relax. tell me what happened. / life for sale.

it is both disconcertingly easy and remarkably difficult to conceal things from caine. easier still is finding a not-altogether witting accomplice in elliot; it's as simple as not telling him he hasn't said anything to his husband yet. not that he thinks elliot would ask. or care, for that matter.

harder is concealing the nervousness of his energy. he paces as if kept on a very short run, quick steps that can't be passed off as much else well. he might be embarrassed about it if he didn't think the nervousness at least semi-appropriate. kerry doesn't relax. elliot's urge isn't enough reason to, even if that's why he's here - to help, so that maybe he can relax.

"okay, so-" kerry stops on a dime, draws in a quick breath, and rubs at his jaw as he gathers his thoughts. "i think something's fucking with the cameras. the ones we got inside are fine, nothin' wrong there. but outside, the feed for some keeps cutting. couple minutes here and there. black screens before they're back up. it's happened daily the past couple days. gate cameras, couple aimed at the edges of the yard." he glances around here, as if looking for someone when there is only one other person here. "and i mean, it could be me imaginin' shit, just some error you can take care of easy, but... i don't know. seems sus. i couldn't keep putting off callin' you."

it might be nothing, but it could be something. and he can only divert caine and falsely blame his tense energy on some piece he's working on that supposedly isn't cooperating so many more times. "you've heard about some of the fans i have. never know what some of 'em might try to pull. rather be safe than sorry."

[inkblot22]

La petit mort

You're about to get tricked, you fools. Sorry for calling you fools, but you'll understand why in a moment, and it pertains to the title.

TW house spousification, I don't care that this isn't a word, mental abuse, noncon kissing, Rook Hunt, because he scares me and I know I'm not the only one

It’s been a while since you’ve last felt light and airy. You woke up in the morning, long before he stirred, and you began breakfast. 

You’ve long held the belief that Rook is awake before you, he just doesn’t like to get up. Perhaps it is the warmth of your entangled bodies, or the silent victory, but he is for certain awake before you. Actually, come to think of it, you haven’t ever seen Rook sleep, probably.

It doesn’t matter now. You used the safety knife to chop up some bell peppers and spinach, mixing them with eggs, sans eggshells, and carefully set a fire in the hearth.

It’s a funny story, actually. You weren’t meaning to get any in the omelet, but eggshells are crumbly, and it happened. So, that same day, just after he finished breakfast, he let you out of the cabin. You had realized by this point that whenever he lets you out of his cabin, because it is unequivocally his cabin, it’s not a chance. It’s not a taste of freedom. It’s a punishment. So you took a seat in the dirt before the door, and he quoted some strange poetry at you that you weren’t listening to before calmly handing you an apple and demanding you stand.

His voice sounded strange, so you did as told. He carefully balanced the apple upon your head and turned from you, the swish of his cape nearly knocking the fruit from your head. You watched him walk, one, two, three, four paces. He turned and narrowed his eyes at you, then turned again, five, six more steps. You didn’t quite realize what he was doing until he aimed his bow at you and notched an arrow. Your mouth went dry.

“Rook…”

“Fear not, mon ange.” He lowered the bow, arrow still notched, “Just try to remain still, as I would truly hate to leave a scar upon your darling head.”

He raised his bow once more and narrowed his eyes, then smiled, turning and taking one more step back before spinning and aiming. Why was he being so slow with this? There was no true reason for this other than-

You heard the whistle before you felt anything. Not that there was anything to feel, Rook was a fantastic shot. The apple was plucked from your head and pierced to the outer wall of the cabin, and you screamed and crouched, covering your head. Rook seemed irked by your panic, grabbing you roughly by the arm and hoisting you up.

“Now, lapin, you must run. Give me a good chase, yes?”

You’d never run so fast. You bolstered through the underbrush and scraped your palms in your haste to get away.

You could almost still feel the sting. When Rook brought you back to the cabin, he threw the first aid kit before you and went down into the cellar. You had never been down there, since it always smelled of slaughter.

It was a strange day, because you did not wake up with him next to you for once the next day, and instead of feeling at ease, you felt nothing but terror. 

Regardless, you made sure to be more cautious of your egg use. You calmly cooked the omelet. You’d gotten very good at it in the past few months. 

You’d been keeping track of the time by scratching the floor beneath the bed when Rook went out to hunt. On days he didn’t go far, you’d mark the appropriate amount of times the next day he did leave you alone. 

You’d often be left alone, surprisingly. You’d never bothered to ask why exactly because you didn’t feel like listening to him tell you about how “distance makes the heart grow fonder” or some shit. It gave you a lot of personal time to contemplate the futility of your position.

Your position was put into perspective by yourself: You’re trapped in a cabin in the middle of the woods by a lonely mage who also has an incredible proclivity for the bow. Said mage proclaims his love and lust for you on the daily in the form of these deranged poems that he writes and Franglais. He wants you to become his homestead spouse and you have no way of escaping this fate. 

You fold the omelet over itself and wonder why you feel so at peace today. As you’re digging through the icebox (why the hell does he have an icebox? Just get a fridge,) you feel his hand slide along your lower back. You jolt and scramble to your feet with the shredded cheese that you were after. Why can he get shredded cheese, but not a regular fridge? 

It’s irrelevant now, as he’s smiling at you, “Bonjour, mon ange! How was your rest?”

You look away from those dirty green eyes and attempt a smile back, “I slept okay. How did you sleep?”

He loops his arms around your waist as you turn to finish his breakfast, sprinkling the cheese over his omelet with your whole body tensed. 

His lips brush your shoulder, then your neck, and you’re unable to fight the full body shiver. That sense of peace is still there, sort of, and you remain unsure as to why.

You’ve been at his mercy for three months and a half. A full 106 days. 

You manage to untangle yourself from his grasp and place the plate upon the table, then realize you forgot to brew the coffee. You quickly scramble to do so, not deaf to his soft chuckling. 

He eats quietly, but slower than usual today. The coffee takes roughly three to five minutes to brew, dependent on the heat of the stove and level of water. For some reason, he shot for indoor plumbing but not a fridge in his cabin. You’d never ask him why.

You place the coffee before him just as he takes the last bite of his omelet and he smiles at you, elegantly picking it up.

“Merci.”

You feel sort of like a servant, when he says it like that. You move a couple things in the kitchen area, deciding against washing the dishes just now, then spread up his bed. Just as you were reaching for the broom, Rook grabbed you by your hips and pulled you back into his lap.

You yelped, understandably so. He was still smiling, though. 

“Busy, busy. I don’t get a kiss good morning?” He purred, his hand slipping through your hair.

Your protest was honestly somewhat in vain. You jerked your head back and his lips still met yours, pressing close and parting them.

For some odd reason, your mind went back to the time you got eggshells in his omelet. When you cracked the eggs, the yolk broke, contaminating the albumen and spreading as far as it could throughout the bowl. 

When Rook pulled back, you found yourself less inclined to move. In fact, you honestly couldn’t. You slumped, as if you had been deflated, and Rook made a slight noise of shock.

“Ah-” His fingers, bare and ungloved, which was strange, tilted your chin upwards so he could look in your eyes. “Well, it was simply a matter of time, was it not?”

You could feel him lift you, the slow movement of him taking you towards the bed that you just made.

“C’est la mort de l'esprit.” He murmured in your ear, tucking you in, “Awake soon, my love.”

It was hilarious. You still felt light and airy.

[fragmentsofmyfixation]

The Bat vs the Tide

Pairing: Bruce Wayne X Arthur Curry

Word Count: 7,394

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Minor Violence, Explicit Language

Summary: Arthur had never before been so completely enamored with a person the way he was with Bruce. He’d only seen him donning the cowl, never actually seeing his face. When the cowl was off, Arthur realized he would do anything to make Bruce, this beautiful man, his. Well, until the arrogant ass opened his mouth. 

It wasn’t that Arthur had never noticed Bruce’s looks. Quite the opposite actually, he was stunned into silence when his  eyes first landed on the billionaire. He had only ever seen him in his full Batman regalia, but this man was different. Greyish blue eyes, slicked back pepper hair, and a suit that complimented every muscle and curve on his body. 

Oh, he was gorgeous.

How do I make him mine? 

How can a man with such a brooding disposition look so beautiful? 

How would he look when wet, 8,000 feet below the surface, under me, panting, cheeks flushed. 

He would make this man his. 

He wasn’t disillusioned into thinking Bruce would up and leave Gotham. He was Batman for fucks sake. But they’d make it work, anything to have a claim on this man and make Bruce his. 

It was decided. Arthur had never been anything but straightforward about his advances, whether they were appropriate or not, and he would make them known. Bruce’s depthless blue eyes, not dissimilar to the very ocean Arthur ruled over, brimmed with cold intelligence that left the King of Atlantis tongue tied. 

Fuck, he wanted this man. 

Smitten was hardly a word he ever thought he’d use to describe himself but it seemed relevant in this circumstance. Until the arrogant bastard opened his mouth and any hope of his attraction becoming something more vanished. He was arguing with Clark, which was nothing new, he and the big blue fought on a daily basis. 

“We should be prioritizing fixing our mistakes from the last battle instead of throwing a party for people who clearly don’t deserve it,” Bruce argued. 

“I’ll admit that some things could have been handled better, but we’re a new team and I think we did great for one of our first battles!” Clark countered. Bruce rolled his eyes and muttered something along the lines of “optimistic idiot.” Not a wrong accusation, but still all the more hurtful. 

The rest of the league members began to look up, noticing the commotion. 

“You call that shit show ‘great’ Clark?” 

Clark opened his mouth the speak but Bruce interrupted him before he could. “The collateral damage alone caused between both you and Diana was enough to demolish a city block! Barry diverted from the plan completely, Hal failed to reach the civilians at a reasonable speed which is really fucking odd considering they both can fly-“ 

Arthur rolled his eyes, tuning him out before he was tempted to take himself out of his misery by stabbing himself with his own trident. Bruce, being Bruce, and the observant compulsive perfectionist he is, noticed and took it as his cue to lay into Arthur. 

Face stoic yet brimming with fury and finger pointing accusingly at him, “And don’t even get me started on you. I understand you spend most of your time underwater these days so maybe this thought hadn’t occurred to you, and feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure summoning a wave of water in a high metropolitan area with electric lines is an idiotic move.” 

By this point, Bruce was standing in his personal space, face snarky and irritated as could be. Any budding feelings were stomped on by this arrogant ass of a human being that somehow felt like it was his place to dish out criticisms. Arthur didn’t look down on humans, considering he was half human and grew up amongst them, but something about someone with no powers mind you, taunting him, made his chest tighten and stomach coil, an unknown feeling unfurling in his heart. Anger?

“Bruce..” Clark warned. 

Bruce immediately interrupted him. “No I’m genuinely curious, is common sense a concept that’s just nonexistent underwater? Or are you just especially moronic and I’m being punished by some supreme deity by having to deal with you.” 

His blood was pumping, fingertips eager to reach out and destroy the asshole daring to talk to him like this. Arthur hadn’t felt this furious since a drunk sailor had bad mouthed his father. The sailor ended up losing the majority of his teeth and it seemed as if Bruce was asking for the same treatment. Before he knew it, a fist had lunged at Bruce. Bruce being the experienced martial artist he dodged it efficiently and countered with one of his own before Clark intercepted it. 

“Enough!” Diana’s commanding voice boomed throughout the room, brokering no room for argument. 

Bruce gave them all one last venomous look and stormed out the room without a word. 

Things had been stilted for some until Diana went to go see him. He didn’t apologize, and neither did Arthur. A singular glance during the next meeting in not exactly an apologetic fashion, more of an acknowledgement for a truce, had Arthur nodding his head slightly agreeing and that was the end of that. 

It is because of this memory, that Arthur realized he shouldn’t be shocked by Bruce’s beauty. It was a league bonding day, something made mandatory by Diana and Clark, much to Bruce’s dismay. They coincidentally decided on a beach day this time, citing the reason being for practicalities sake of the ocean being in the middle of everyone’s respected territories and private, Diana renting it out for the day. Arthur didn’t question it, especially with it making it easier for him to attend. He agreed to the day expecting mild forms of amusement such as Hal and Barry making fools of themselves, Diana and Clark’s not so subtle flirting, and the rest of the league members awkwardly mingling until they got drunk. 

What he had not accounted for was Batman—Bruce the overbearing bastard, to come out the water looking like he was born in it. Droplets gliding over his multitude of scars down to his sculpted Adonis belt, eyes blue enough for him to believe the ocean was reflecting off of him, thick thighs that could suffocate him. 

Arthur regained his bearings quickly. He didn’t care much about what the other league members thought of him or who they knew he was attracted to, but the last thing he wanted was give Bruce the satisfaction of catching him off guard. No matter how beautiful he was. 

So yes, Bruce was a very attractive man. 

A part of him had learned to respect Bruce, regardless of his shitty attitude, even Arthur had to admit he was an excellent leader, quick as a whip, and even had a sense of humor at times, a bit morbid if you asked him, but a sense of humor nonetheless. 

He was conversing with Clark and Diana, the only league members bold (crazy) enough to strike up a conversation with him. In typical Bruce fashion he brushed them off with a withering look and went to sit under the umbrellas, opening a book and beginning to read. His legs moved on his own volition, and before he could think about the possible outcomes of his actions, he strode towards Bruce. 

“Is this seat taken,” asked Arthur. 

Bruce leveled him with an aggrieved look, that was half hidden by his sunglasses and said nothing. Arthur took that as a “yes”, pulled out the chair, and sat down. They sat in silence, neither of them being fans of unnecessary small talk. Arthur still doesn’t know what possessed him to come sit by Bruce. Sure the guy was hot, but if that was truly the only reason Arthur had sought out his company, it wouldn’t make much sense. Arthur had the advantage of both land and see to find someone just as attractive and ten times more amenable. 

Arthur spared a glance at Bruce, not being subtle at all and not necessarily trying to be. He huffed out a laugh. 

“What,” Bruce snapped, not looking up from his book.  

“It’s just,” Arthur gasped out in between huffs of laughter. “You literally look like a drowned bat.”

Bruce for whatever reason didn’t towel himself off. Water stuck to his pale skin and his dark hair, truly giving off a bat look. 

Bruce, seemingly nonplussed, told him to fuck off making Arthur laugh even louder at the furiously indignant tone. 

“I’m sorry Bats, I just can’t help myself.” 

“Lack of self control,“ Bruce tutted under his breath, “What's new.” Bruce cringed internally, thinking of the last time he had those thoughts. He had become a lot more comfortable around the Justice League ever since Clark’s resurrection, but he was still wary of them losing control of his powers. Another brooding thought for another day Bruce supposes. 

Arthur could clearly see this becoming a negative altercation and for whatever reason he wanted to divert this from taking such a path. He doesn’t know why he wants this conversation—if it can even be called that— with Bruce to last, he’s never turned down a challenge before. 

Perhaps it was the joyful atmosphere. They each hardly got chances to hang out with our super powered individuals and be so free with their own powers. Maybe the peace was infectious and cooled his normally hot headed responses. 

Bruce gave him another strange look, apparently surprised that his comment didn’t get much of a response. Arthur noticed the bags under his eyes, and how pale his skin looked. 

“You look like a vampire Bats, you truly have this whole moody gothic supernatural thing going on about you. You really are a creature of the night,” Arthur laughed to himself.

Arthur didn’t think he’d get a response, and was pleasantly surprised when he did. 

“I’m just not used to this much sun. Gotham’s usually more dark, besides, I work inside all day so I don’t see much sun regardless, and then I go out as Batman at night. I’ve been dealing with this frustrating case that’s kept me up for days on end, and the day I finally decide to take a break, is the day where the wonder twins decide to make it a team bonding day,” Bruce sneered, eyes finally making contact with Arthur. “So yes Arthur, I’m irritated.” 

Arthur suddenly felt a pang of sympathy. If he was in Batsy’s shoes he probably would’ve ditched, consequences be damned. Bruce was his own man. Despite whatever threats Diana would make or sad pleas Clark showered him with, if Bruce truly didn’t care about the league he wouldn’t have shown up. Meaning that he chose to come because he wanted to be supportive, on his day off nonetheless. Arthur wouldn’t have been as kind if it was him. 

Bruce had turned back to his book without another word as Arthur considered this. It was only then that he noticed what Bruce was actually reading. 

Marine Plants: Biodiversity, Toxins, and Environmental Assessment 

“What do you want to know about marine plants?” Arthur inquired dubiously. 

Bruce seemed to consider whether it was worth it to ignore Arthur and deal with his constant badgering or just simply tell the truth. After some wavering and a few huffed curses under his breath, Bruce chose the latter. 

“Poison Ivy has created a new type of algae, one capable of mind controlling an entire city’s worth of people and putting them under the same delusion. She plans to replace it with Gotham’s produce, and because it looks a hell of a lot similar to greens like spinach and kale, no one would notice. I’m trying to find algae that has a similar effect, so I can extract it, and make an antidote,” Bruce contemplated his next thought before continuing, “I can’t rule out the possibility that she’s already tested it on a small group of people to see if it works. I already know when and where she’s going to release it, but I still need her test group so I can isolate the effects.” 

That had been the longest time Arthur had ever heard Bruce talk. But wait hold on—

“Why the hell didn’t you ask me for help? I’m literally the King of Atlantis. I could’ve asked Mera to pull books from our archives, which would have much better information than a book from some marine biologist that doesn’t know jack shit about the sea.”

Bruce had the forthright to suddenly turn sheepish, well sheepish for Bruce at least. 

“I didn’t think after our last,” he pondered his choice of words “Disagreement, you would be inclined to help me,” he said, voice soft, eyes suddenly downcast, looking anywhere but him. 

Bruce had absolutely no right looking like that. 

Not much has changed about Bruce’s outer appearance, he still looked like a tired, drowned bat. But the hardness and weariness that always seemed to engulf him had disappeared and what was left was this gorgeous man who’s softness made him look good enough to eat. 

All the feelings he had felt when his eyes first landed on Bruce rushed to the surface. He wanted to be with this man. Walk with him, side by side. Fuck him, and drown him in pleasure. Treasure him, so he never had to doubt before asking for help again. Arthur didn’t voice any of these thoughts, knowing they’d be rebuffed at this point in time. Instead, he calmed himself down and spoke. 

“Well, consider me on board Batsy.” 

Bruce was back to gruff grunts and hard edges. That was fine. Arthur would help him anyway. Even if his feelings weren’t a motivator in this, having someone as skilled as Batman needing his help was always a confidence booster. Besides, this meant Batman would be more likely to do a favor for him in the future. Bruce gave him the run down of the situation and they began discussing a plan of action. 

They later found a patch of moss that had a similar biological breakdown to Poison Ivy’s plant. Bruce had told him that he didn’t need his help anymore but Arthur insisted on staying till the case was closed, citing that he always does things from start to finish and Bruce should understand the feeling. He also wanted to stay close to Bruce to confirm that this feeling his gut was trying to tell him is really what he thought it was.

Bruce conceded with minimal arguments which Arthur counted as a win. While science wasn’t exactly his forte, he was able to assist with making the antidote that would neutralize any effects of the plant. Arthur had taken this chance to be near Bruce and have excuses to touch him. He didn’t violate the man’s personal space, knowing that would get him nowhere. He did however take advantage of their close proximity. Whenever he passed the occasional microscope slide to Bruce he made sure their fingers touched just the slightest bit. 

Whenever he had trouble operating the microscope, he stood just a bit closer to Bruce than what was appropriate as Bruce explained how it worked. If Bruce noticed, which he probably did because it’s Bruce, he didn’t say anything. They finally perfected the antidote and found Ivy’s test subjects, administering it just before it could the plant could take permanent effect. Arthur even ended up assisting in the takedown of Ivy and helped with the cleanup. 

It was 4 am, all cleanup had been done and the sun was going to rise soon. 

“Thanks for the help Aquaman.”

Arthur smiled, “No problem Batsy, call if you ever need help again.” 

Arthur turned around, making his way home when Bruce called out for him. He turned around in confusion, mentally checking to see if he forgot anything. Bruce seemed to struggle with his next words, a look of conflicting emotions passing through his eyes before it was gone. 

“Sorry about what I said,” he breathed out. “The last time we fought I mean. You were an idiot and I stand by that, however my delivery could have been better.” 

Arthur laughed. “Don’t sweat it Batsy, I’m sorry too.” 

With that last apology, Bruce left. 

Arthur shook his head in amusement, mind made up. He returned to this sea, planning his next course of action. 

                                                ______________     

When Bruce came home after a long day of meetings and phone calls, he expected to mechanically eat whatever Alfred had prepared for him, and get ready for an even longer night of dealing with Gotham’s most vile scum. What he hadn’t expected, was to find Arthur of all people standing in kitchen chatting it up with Alfred about…salmon recipes?

“I didn’t think the King of Atlantis would eat his subjects,” Bruce finally intervened, too fed up with the weirdness of whatever this was. 

Alfred sighed in exasperation. “Master Bruce! Truly I don’t know where you learned this flagrant lack of regard for guests.”

“Unwanted guests,” Bruce emphasized sardonically. 

Arthur laughed, finding this whole ordeal amusing. Bruce hated how he was becoming fond of the sound. 

“I’m sure you know this, considering you undoubtedly have a file of everyone in the league with details from their blood type to which side of the bed they sleep on, but I’ll tell you again.” Arthur wiped a stray tear caused from his earlier laughing fit. “I grew up as a human in a lighthouse, my father was a fisherman and guess what. When you grow up in an area with only water in sight, you eat fish. Besides, if everyone stopped eating fish the ocean would be overpopulated. Truly Batsy, I would’ve thought you’d come to that conclusion already.” 

Arthur laughed. “Maybe I’m overestimating your intelligence. Anyway, Batsy does that answer your question?” Arthur goaded. 

Alfred scoffed in amusement, seeming to enjoy Bruce being told off. If Bruce could fire Alfred he would. He’s tried many times in his youth, with the only result being Alfred just patting him on the head calling him “adorable.” Alfred was truly a menace. And yes, Bruce knew deep down he would never fire Alfred, firstly because it just wasn’t possible, and aside from the fact he was his father figure, Bruce quite literally couldn’t function without Alfred. 

“Yes I’ve drawn my own conclusions, I’m just confirming them is all.”

“Well now that that’s been established,” Arthur turned to Alfred. “Is this all you need?” Arthur motioned to the porch. 

Bruce's eyes swiveled over to his porch and was shocked to find an entire net worth of fish. 

“What is this for?” Bruce asked. 

“If you would check your phone and the multitude of unopened emails that are sent to you, you’d know we are holding a gala tomorrow night at Wayne Manor. The food vendors have notified us that due to the lack of fish, they would be unable to complete the scheduled menu. Mister Arthur volunteered to bring us fresh fish from across the ocean. Truly Master Bruce, your ungratefulness knows no bounds.” 

Arthur appeared to have a permanent smile plastered on his face, having never seen the great Batman admonished in such a way. Bruce let Arthur have his moment and turned to Alfred. 

Bruce’s glare was frigid, Alfred however stayed unmoved. “Well now it feels like I have to keep my ungrateful streak since it ‘knows no bounds’.”

Alfred sighed in defeat and left the room. Bruce turned his attention back to Arthur. “Despite what Alfred thinks, I am grateful. I just don’t understand why you did this. Is this a league thing? Are you trying to make me indebted to you?” 

Bruce hadn’t pegged Arthur to have any malicious intent, but Bruce knew from experience you could never be too sure. 

“Wow Batsy, you’re paranoid. I heard you needed help and offered it. Don’t think too much.” 

Arthur made his exit, slightly brushing his arm against Bruce’s as he walked by. That’s another thing, Arthur had been touching Bruce a lot more. It wasn’t anything outrageous and it didn’t make him uncomfortable, it was just strange. Bruce filed this encounter away for later inspection. He couldn’t make any hypothesis or come to any conclusions without further review. He just hoped Arthur wouldn’t make a habit out of coming to his house. Alfred seems to like him, insisting that Bruce needed more friends. His exact words were: Well more implies you had any to begin with so let me rephrase, you need a friend.

Bruce didn’t need friends.  

But he begrudgingly accepted he’d be seeing a lot more of Arthur since Alfred likes him and if Alfred likes him, Arthur practically has a key to the lake house. 

Bruce was annoyed. 

His late night had spilled into early morning after dealing with Joker and Harley. He barely had time to write his report before he had to get dressed for a meeting with his board of directors at Wayne Enterprises. It had been a tedious affair, each board member trying to overrule Bruce and look down on him from their self made thrones. Bruce shut them down of course, but it wasn’t without cost. His head was killing him and it was only one in the afternoon, meaning he had a long day left. Bruce was rubbing his aching temples in wariness when his office line rung. 

He summoned his Brucie persona, which had grown quite tame in the last few years, he wasn’t twenty anymore after all.

“Yes Janet.” Her name was Julie. Brucie couldn’t be as vacuous and idiotic as he was in his twenties, but he still needed to be superficial and arrogant. 

“It’s Julie, Mr. Wayne. And you have a visitor requesting to see you. His name is Arthur Curry. Should I send him up?”

Bruce internally sighed in resignation, knowing resisting would only make his day worse. “Let him in. Thanks Jackie.” 

A few seconds later, his door was opened, revealing a jubilant looking Arthur with take out boxes in his hand. Bruce’s frigid glare did nothing to deter him from placing the take out on his table and making himself at home in Bruce’s office chairs. Arthur looked around, taking the city view in from Bruce’s wall sized windows. Bruce said nothing as he waited for Arthur to explain why he was here. 

Arthur, either not noticing his glare, or just choosing not to comment on it began to open the containers. He opened a beer bottle and gulped half of it down. 

“I was in the neighborhood and wanted some lunch. Is Italian food alright with you?” Arthur inquired. 

Bruce didn’t understand this, he didn’t understand this at all. 

“Why are you here?” 

Arthur looked at Bruce as if he was the abnormal one. “To eat lunch with you.”

“Why?” Bruce questioned, starting to lose his patience. 

“Wow Bats, way to make a man feel like an interloper.” 

“Maybe you feel like an interloper, because you’re interloping. And don’t call me that here.” 

Arthur took a bite of ravioli. Bruce’s stomach grumbled at the site. It looked delicious. 

“Sorry Bruce, I just figured someone as paranoid as you would soundproof your office.” 

“It is soundproofed, but you can never be too careful.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes at Bruce’s paranoia. In Bruce’s opinion, anyone who hasn’t lived in Gotham for more than a year had no right to call him paranoid. 

“Seriously Bruce relax, you’re on break anyway.” 

Bruce quickly went from irritated to angry. “No I will not relax,” Bruce groused. “You’re right, I am on break. This will probably be my only break for the rest of the day and I have to spend it lecturing you on how not to act like an idiot for sixty seconds.” 

Arthur’s smile slowly began to fall. 

Good.

“You’re just like Diana and Clark, always trying to butt in, without realizing how they’re imposing their unwanted time and company on others who don’t want it,” Bruce said sardonically. 

Arthur looked slightly chagrined, a look Bruce was beginning to realize made his chest constrict. He stood slowly. 

“You’re right Bruce. I’ll see myself out.” 

Arthur left, leaving Bruce feeling like an ass but what else was new. Bruce eyed all the food left on his desk. He was on a strict diet, and normally would stick to lean meats, vegetables, and green protein shakes but since Arthur came all the way here and brought it for him….

The food tasted just as amazing as it smelt. Bruce was almost done when he noticed a note on one of the containers. 

Something tells me someone as bitter as you would enjoy something sweet. Enjoy the dessert Bruce

Bruce opened the container and was met with 4 beautifully presented cannolis. Bruce already had indulged himself during lunch, he really should toss these or give them to his assistant. Bruce caved and tried one, melting at the sweet creamy mixture coating his tongue. 

Arthur was right, Bruce really did have a sweet tooth. 

He almost never indulged himself though, knowing he had to keep his body in top condition to continue being Batman. Bruce finished another cannoli and had to physically stop himself from eating more and returned to his work. 

It wasn’t until he got home after a tiring night of patrol that he realized the second half of his day went by much faster than usual. 

The next few weeks were filled with small surprises. By now, Bruce understood what Arthur was trying to do. What he didn’t understand was why. 

Why would he want Bruce of all people? While Bruce wasn’t old, at his age of 40, and maintained a good appearance, he could tell his body isn’t exactly what it used to be. Arthur was still so vibrant and fit, what could he possible find attractive about Bruce that he couldn’t find anywhere else. 

The gifts - if they can even be called that- started off small. A breakfast delivery he didn’t order arrived at his desk. The meals were small, heavy on the vegetables and carbs, with lean meats and other proteins. Much different than what was provided on their failed lunch date. Bruce wondered if Arthur had been talking to Alfred and even took the liberty of asking him. Alfred had admitted he occasionally talked to Arthur and when Bruce asked if they talked about him, all he got was a: Not everything is about you Master Bruce, don’t be so narcissistic 

It didn’t stop at just meals. Notes were sometimes left in his office. Nothing overly poetic but still thoughtful. 

Remember to eat today 

Did you know the ocean is blue because it’s constantly reflecting the sky 

Mera’s ignoring me because I skipped a meeting  to go out drinking yesterday 

I threw beer at some guys face and started a bar fight

I walked in on my Mom and Pop having sex. I’m not sure whether to be glad both my parents are getting some or be sick because both of my parents are getting some 

“Sometimes you have to do what’s right even if your heart aches against it” is what Mera told me during my expedition to be king. Maybe I’m just a hedonist but I abhor that way of thinking

Bruce savored these notes. He told himself it was to have more information on Arthur. The excuse was pitiful, even to Bruce’s own ears. 

At the next Justice League meeting, Bruce gave Arthur a look. 

Meet me at the lake house after this. 

Arthur inclined his head slightly, signaling Bruce that he understood. 

When Bruce got home, he showered and changed quickly, knowing Arthur wasn’t far behind him. What had Bruce’s life come to? After years of feeling off balance, he finally felt somewhat secure, well, as secure as Batman and Bruce Wayne could feel. Superman had been brought back, the league was successful and thriving, Bruce had a relatively normal sleeping schedule, well, as regular as Batman’s sleeping schedule could get, and then Arthur in all his Atlantean glory comes in and throws Bruce off kilter. 

Just a few weeks ago for example, Bruce had always been alert and focused during missions. His years of experience had taught him distractions were just as deadly as fear toxins and any other shit that Gotham’s thrown at him over the years.

They were on a team mission, where all the lights had been  shut off during a power outage. Bruce’s cowl had night vision and the rest of the league had their own abilities that helped them see in the dark. The most noticeable however, was Arthur. His once inhumanly bright blue eyes were now an inhumanly golden amber, glowing like the sun. 

“To help see in the dark” Arthur explained at Bruce’s curious stare. 

Bruce had been mortified to be caught staring and was restless for the entire rest of the mission. Bruce needed to put a stop to this. 

He hated feeling this out of control and cursed himself for falling for Arthur. Bruce hoped at first that his feelings for Arthur were just lust, he would’ve welcomed that. While having sex wouldn’t be ideal in terms of professionalism, working off some steam wouldn’t be hurting anyone. Contrary to what his reputation might hint at, Bruce hasn’t had sex in over a year. If he could just fuck out his frustration, he would. But he knew it wouldn’t help, aside from giving him fleeting relief. 

Bruce thought of his next course of action when someone knocked on his door. 

“Alfred let me in,” Arthur said, walking in the room tentatively, as if dealing with a scared animal. 

Bruce willed himself not to become distracted at the sight before him. His outfit wasn’t anything to rave about, wearing green cargo jeans, a black tank top, and a matching black unbuttoned vest. Bruce supposed that if he swam in water all day he wouldn’t bother busting out the Armani either. However Arthur still wore it well. 

What caught Bruce’s eye was his arms. So strong and tattooed. Arthur just exuded a sense of strength and an aura of danger. 

Bruce wanted. 

“What do you think you’re doing,” Bruce questioned without preamble. 

“You invited me here,” Arthur stated, crossing his arms. 

“I mean with me.”

Arthur paused, weighing the pros and cons of being honest with Bruce. He decided on honesty. 

“I live by a philosophy Bats. Life is too short to not do what makes me happy. I pursue anything that brings me joy, and you do exactly that.”

“Seems like selfish thinking for a King.”

“If I’m not happy and in the right state of mind, how do I ever expect to lead my subjects? I do not ignore my people’s wishes and follow my own selfish desires Bruce,” Arthur walked a few steps closer, “However I refuse to stop living my life because I am a King. That is not who I am or how I operate. Just because I am King, doesn’t mean I have to be miserable.”

For some reason, Arthur’s last comment made something in Bruce hurt. 

“Have you forgotten about the multitude of reasons why pursuing me is inappropriate?” 

“What reasons?” 

“The glaringly obvious one.”

Arthur continued to look genuinely confused and Bruce hated how handsome he was. 

“I didn’t peg you for someone who dated someone decades your senior,” Bruce quipped.

“And I didn’t peg you for someone insecure about your age. You can’t possibly be telling me that’s one of the main reasons you think this is inappropriate.” Arthur quipped back without missing a beat. 

“I’m 40.” 

“I’m 27. Now that we’re done with saying how old we are, why don’t you give me an actual response and stop beating around the bush like the coward we both know you aren’t.” 

Arthur saw a complex variety of emotions flash through Bruce’s eyes before he schooled his expression and they reached an eerie, cold and calculated equilibrium. Arthur hated when Bruce hid his emotions away like this. 

Bruce just couldn’t fathom why Arthur would want someone old like Bruce when he had so many other options. Much more physically attractive and emotionally available options. Bruce didn’t understand Arthur. He thought he did, along with the other members of the justice league, but perhaps the more intimate nature their relationship has taken on had him seeing things he otherwise wouldn’t have noticed if their relationship had stayed strictly platonic. 

Arthur’s advances, while not exactly unwanted, were harmful for the team dynamic. And Bruce refused to let a decision like a relationship with a team member be made capriciously without much thought. 

And Bruce thought

He thought about his graying temples, his responsibilities in Gotham, his children and their relationship which was rocky at best and downright antagonistic at worst, the justice league, and the millions of other reasons they wouldn’t work out. 

Bruce was reticent, Arthur was brash. 

Bruce was a human, Arthur was Atlantean. 

Bruce was in his forties, Arthur was in his twenties. 

They were both too stubborn and inexorable. It just wouldn’t work. 

Bruce was tired, and broken in ways that made him terrible in relationships. Arthur may think he was interested in Bruce, but it was most likely just attraction. Arthur had no self preservation skills and refused to think with his head, leaving Bruce the unfortunate job of giving him a much needed reality check. 

Steeling himself, Bruce began, “Look Arthur-“

“Stop,” Arthur interrupts immediately. “Because whatever self sacrificing noble bullshit you’re about to spew will be a waste of both our times.” 

If it wasn’t for Bruce’s years of experience when dealing with meta humans, he would have never anticipated Arthur’s next actions. Arthur crowded him back into a wall, strong tattooed arms slipped beneath Bruce’s thighs and lifted him. 

Months later Bruce would deny ever being startled and letting out an undignified squeak at the action. He swung off rooftops every night for heaven's sake. He was fucking Batman.

His hands grappled for purchase on Arthur’s broad tattooed shoulders. Bruce had always loved being manhandled, being  over 6 feet and 220 pounds of pure muscle had always made it difficult, but that was no trouble for the King of Atlantis. A tinge of excitement shot up his spine at the new revelation and Arthur’s blatant show of strength.

Bruce’s five senses were overwhelmed with Arthur. The poignant smell of the sea, so natural, and pleasantly pervasive, and much unlike the expensive and overpowering colognes Bruce smelt on a regular basis. His twenty years of exuding self control are the only reason he doesn’t rut against the impressive bulge pressing into his quickly hardening one, and allowed him to keep an impassive expression. 

“Bruce,” groaned Arthur. “I can’t make promises that everything will be fine, and this new dynamic between us won’t change things, but I’m also not a fan of sitting by and ignoring my gut. It’s never failed me before and it won’t fail me now, I’m sure of it.” 

Arthur rolled his hips against Bruce’s, creating a beautiful friction. Bruce swallowed a whimper as he continued. “And do you know what my gut is telling me?” 

Bruce stayed silent, knowing if he opened his mouth, a moan would escape. Grinding harder against Bruce, Arthur didn’t wait for his reply. “It’s telling me to make you mine. To protect you, and be there for you if any harm comes your way. It’s telling me to fuck you, until you can’t walk straight. To paint your gorgeous face with my come. To spear you down on my cock and watch your face contort in pleasure as your body stretches so beautifully just to make room for me. To make you come until you physically can’t anymore. To wipe your tears when it eventually becomes too much for you. But my gut is telling me you’ll be good, even if it’s too much, you’d let me have my way with you until I’m satiated. That you’d let me flood your glorious hole with a sea of my come, so much come that you’ll be leaking for days. That you’ll let me hold you after cleaning up, and listen to you ramble on and on about things I’d never understand like whatever fancy gadget you’re working on that week. It’s telling me that we’d fight, which is a given, we’re too obstinate not to be at each other's throats, but we’d also make up and do it all over again. It’s telling me to take care of you.” 

Bruce finally let out a groan, not at the litany of dirty promises, but the promise of being cherished and cared for. Maybe it was his age getting to him, making him soft and desire all of these things he had sworn to himself he’d never have. 

Arthur was moving against him with fervor, eyes watching every one of Bruce’s reactions like a hawk, taking in his blissed out face and unguarded eyes. Savoring every whimper and groan that slipped from Bruce’s usually guarded lips. He was mesmerized, Bruce was truly gorgeous. Bruce wanted to tell him that he didn’t deserve to be looked at in such an endearing way. Bruce was damaged goods, scarred and ugly, undeserving of love. But all that left his lips was an embarrassing, “Ah! Arthur, ah fuck Arthur!” 

Bruce’s legs that were crossed around Arthur’s back pulled him closer, desperate for more of the addicting friction. 

He was close, he could feel it. Pre-come had stained his briefs, leaking like a faucet. Arthur sped up his pace, rutting harder against him, quickly sensing this was coming to an end. His hands slid from Bruce’s thighs to his ass, using this new leverage to grind Bruce against him harder. Bruce wanted to look away, the position too open and intimate, leaving him nowhere to hide. The reverent  look on Arthur’s face aroused too many emotions. Bruce didn’t deserve to be looked at like that.

Arthur refused to let him.  

He claimed his mouth. Bruce groans at the feeling of Arthur’s tongue and whimpers when Arthur doesn’t pull away and the kiss lasts longer than usual. He can feel his lungs burning, crying for air, but Bruce refuses to pull away, too lost in the feeling of Arthur everywhere to be concerned about the lack of oxygen. Bruce begins to get lightheaded, on the verge of passing out when Arthur finally pulls away. “That’s it love, see how perfect you are for me.” Bruce was red, not completely sure if it was from the lack of oxygen or the term of endearment. Bruce gasped for air, unable to form a reply.  

Arthur rocks into him faster, eyes shining in a way they weren’t before. His eyes glowed a bright amber, his powers surfacing. Bruce feels powerful, being able to receive such a reaction from him. “You’re so perfect for me,” Arthur whispers reverently. “Come for me Bruce.” 

He was usually quiet during sexual activities but everything was too intense and his attempts to muffle his noises had been met with Arthur slowing down the brutally frantic pace he set for them. Bruce let it all out and let Arthur take care of him. 

Bruce had blanked out from there but vaguely remembered a stream of, “Arthur, Arthur, Arthur,  of fuck, oh shit, so good Arthur fuck,” coming from his mouth as he was blinded by white hot pleasure, coming in his underwear like an inexperienced teenager. It had really been too long since he got laid. 

Arthur shudders and soon follows after Bruce who goes boneless in his arms. Arthur carried him over to the bed. They both strip, each equally eager to get out of their soiled underwear. Bruce watches as Arthur disappears in Bruce’s admittedly ostentatious bathroom and comes back with towels to clean them up. 

Bruce, not the first time tonight, admires the King's beauty. Awestruck with how well his tattoos looked on him and how beautiful his hair was. Arthur eventually came back and spooned Bruce from behind, nose tickling the nape. It was so peaceful Bruce almost didn’t hear when Arthur spoke. 

“Give us a trial run.” 

Bruce turned over on his side so he was able to face Arthur. “Trial run?” 

“Let’s date for 3 months, if at the end of this period you think that our relationship is getting in the way of our individual priorities as well as league business then we can end this amicably with no hard feelings.” Bruce pondered this for a moment, weighing the pros and cons and figuring out the logistics. 

“However if you find us being able to be together without it negatively affecting our priorities, and you’re happy with me, we make it official. And none of that ‘you’re too young’ or ‘it’s too complicated’ Bruce. If you truly don’t want to be with me because you’re not happy with me then I’ll accept it. But none of that overbearing sacrificial bullshit alright?” 

“And what if you decided you don’t want to be with me?” Bruce asked. 

Arthur rolled his eyes in mild annoyance for the presumably stupid question. “That won’t happen,” Arthur started, “My gut is telling me that you’re the one for me.” 

Bruce’s eyebrow rose with clear doubt. “Your gut?” 

“Yes Bruce, so what do you say?” 

Bruce sighed in resignation. “I’ll give us a shot.” 

Clearly Bruce didn’t think this “trial run” would bear any fruit but he was sure Arthur was going to convince him otherwise. Until then however.

Bruce kissed Arthur, slowly and tentatively at first, but soon turned torrid and needy. Bruce could feel Arthur hardening with interest. It seemed Atlanteans had fast refractory periods.

The rest of the night was consumed by loud groans caused by Arthur, taking Bruce from behind, up against the wall, and on his lap. Arthur had showered Bruce with sweet platitudes as Bruce tiredly rode him after Bruce was strung out from his fourth orgasm. The image of Bruce covered in sweat and come, with his sculpted body and gloriously thick thighs pleasuring himself on Arthur’s cock, wanting nothing but to make Arthur come, regardless of how worn out he is, was seared into Arthur’s memory. Bruce’s thighs were quaking from exhaustion, those glorious muscled thighs. The next time they did this, Arthur wanted those thighs to put him into a headlock while he sucked Bruce off. 

Bruce was tired, that much was clear. But he was taking Arthur so perfectly with the mantra of Arthur, Arthur, Arthur spilling from his lips. Bruce was perfect. Arthur didn’t understand how Bruce could ever feel insecure about his age. Just the sight of Bruce had him enraptured, Arthur was truly a lucky bastard, being able to see Bruce in the throes of pleasure. Arthur would continue to tell Bruce how he feels, so he knows just how amazing he is.

“You look so perfect like this Bruce. Split open my cock. Do you know how wonderful you feel around me? Squeezing and sucking me in so perfectly. You’re so warm and wet Bruce, I could watch you for days.

Bruce groaned in protest at Arthur’s praises. 

“If only you knew how many times I’ve  thought of this moment, late at night with my hand pumping my cock,” Arthur growled. “I want you to come again just like this, just from my cock. I want you to feel good. Can you let me take care of you?”

Bruce went lax on Arthur’s chest, hiding his face in the junction between Arthur’s neck and shoulder. 

That was enough of an answer for him. 

The soles of Arthur’s feet were set flat against the bed. In this more secure position, Arthur thrusted into Bruce relentlessly, encouraged by the litany of groans. Arthur digs his fingers into Bruce’s ass, holding him steady as his cock rams into him. Arthur picked up the pace. Bruce’s voice got louder, gasping and whimpering as Arthur fucked him faster and harder, the squelch of lube making him blush in embarrassment.

He continued fucking Bruce this way. Bruce clenched down around him and came, small droplets of come dribbling from his spent cock.  The slick tightness clenching around him was enough to bring Arthur over the edge for the third time that night, coming inside Bruce. Arthur gazed in amazement at his own come dribbling out of Bruce’s puffy abused hole. 

Bruce was going to hate him in the morning. 

As Arthur finally let Bruce fall asleep around 3:30 after having his fill with him, he kissed his shoulders with a type of gentleness Bruce was learning he needed to get used to, Bruce was beginning to think this trial wouldn’t be so bad. 

[ur-mom-64209]

Would you mind giving a detailed description of your thoughts about Billy Hargrove? I've been trying to get a lot of information from both ends of the argument on this topic. If not I one hundred percent understand!

yeah sure

i'll start with the easiest thing i can, he's racist. canonically racist. he specifically targeted lucas. he said "people like him" (if it's not word for word oh well) when referring to lucas. you can't really defend that.

why does this matter to me? i'm not black, but it still matters. i'm mexican and have been told i have the darkest skin out of everyone in my family. i've experienced racism in many forms.

1. casual

jokes about my skin color, jokes about my culture, shit like that. usually followed up with "it's just a joke"

2. passive aggressive

more silent racism, like the stereotypical white woman clutching her purse as i walk by. like you just know they want to call you some shit but they don't

3. flat out aggressive

slurs, trying to fight me (idk why though)

4. miscellaneous (idk what section to add these to)

people saying they "don't see my color", denial of their racism, saying white privilege doesn't exist, sexualization, cultural appropriation, tokenism

so i am pretty sure i can confidently say i have seen and experienced racism, so i know what it looks like.

and obviously i know racism will look a bit or very different when applied to different races.

examples: i have never been called the n word, that's something black people experience. i have never had comments made on my eyes/had them been made fun of, that's something mainly asian people experience (same with stereotypes on food).

i have a lot of people of color in my friend group, and we have all discussed what racism we've experienced. and guess what, billy has done what some of my friends have described. crazy how that happens.

yes yes, i know he's fictional. but does that automatically mean i'm going to throw away my morals at the sight of fiction? no.

another thing is SOME of his fans have god awful takes.

example 1. saying that 12 year old mike wheeler was more racist than billy was.

yes what mike said in season 2 was racist. but racism is racism. mike had one situation of my knowledge. billy did what i previously said, and acted violently. if you say him grabbing and pinning 12-13 year old lucas against that dish cabinet or whatever the fuck that was, wasn't violent or attacking, reevaluate why you think it isn't.

then obviously there is him trying to run the party off the road, he saw lucas in the group and only have a shit max was hanging out with lucas.

he didn't care that dustin had obvious feelings for max, billy only cared about lucas being around max.

example 2. he was possessed by the mind flayer, he had no control.

that was in season 3, not season 2. yes he was possessed in season 3, but in season 2 he didn't even know about the upside down, so that argument is entirely irrelevant when discussing season 2 billy.

and yes i know he was abused, and that's tragic that he's relatable. i would never wish what he and a noticeable part of his fan base have experienced.

i also know his abuse traumatized him into commiting the actions that he did. i think it's pretty unfair when people who are anti billy say things that can quite literally mean "just get over it". but i also think it's incredibly unfair when people who are pro billy just ignore the negative impact he left.

i had some difficultly rewatching some of his scenes that he was in, because of his racism. again, i experience racism daily. so i'll say it again, i can't just throw away my morals for fiction, i'm sorry, i just can't.

[bloomingdead]

it’s so weird to me how oblivious people are to the reason why adam mcintyre took so long to be taken seriously by the whole internet. i keep seeing posts questioning why this was all swept under the rug three years ago, but the answer is so obvious to me. adam was a child during his relationship with colleen and was still a minor when he came forward about his experiences. most of colleen/miranda’s fans are all underage. most people “grow out of” miranda sings as they get older, and likely never interact with her content again. i have friends who have and i myself grew out of miranda’s content, forgetting about it rather than processing how weird her videos and live shows were. 

 obviously the other people in the same position as him were too young to understand how truly odd it is for a THIRTY+ YEAR OLD WOMAN to be engaging with her underage fans the way she did. they all either had been in or would die to be in adam’s shoes! every teenager would probably shit themselves to directly interact with someone they consider famous or even more so their idol. but as you get older, and you start to understand “oh, actually, that was really weird,” it’s harder to ignore what you or others have gone through. the people adam considered friends who turned against him were all still confused about their position and importance in colleen’s life, but more than half of them probably got dropped (if not all) after her apology in 2020. and that probably made them think, “wait, if colleen thinks our relationship is inappropriate enough to abandon me, then maybe it was inappropriate the whole time.” 

i wouldn’t be surprised to find out that less than 10% of colleen’s fans are over the age of 18. in fact it would be interesting if through all this she is pressured to, or someone does the hacking to, release her analytics information showing that a majority of her fans are ages 12-16. i know i stopped watching her at about 15 years old. i was embarrassed of MY humor, not hers. i closed that chapter of gross, inappropriate, sometimes offensive humor and never looked back. even though she was a grown ass woman promoting the humor she does to a “pg13 audience,” i never thought about it for how serious it was. because i didn’t know, because i was just a kid.

i feel like the internet has just started realizing in the last 5, maybe 7 years, that NO adult/minor internet relationship is appropriate. unless there’s a reason, like work/school/family, there’s no excuse for a famous internet personality to be speaking almost daily with a minor. a minor doesn’t need to know about your relationship issues, work drama, or any weird miniscule details about your life. there’s no reason, with such different stages in each person’s life, to be interacting with one another. 

the reason adam was ignored all those years ago was because an adult who was directly involved called him a liar. to which other adults who see no reason to interact with a minor because they’re not fucking weirdos, went “okay, this minor is not my business” and disappeared from the situation. while other under-18′s who didn’t have the life experience to know better, went along and destroyed adam’s internet presence in favor of colleen. and now, that same adult who was directly involved (kodee tyler) admitted they lied (to save herself from impending fallout), so this situation is back in the spotlight because adults will only listen to other adults. and now, because adam is an adult too, other adults feel comfortable getting the story straight from him.

but anyway, i think we need to stop asking why he was ignored for so long and instead ask ourselves how we can prevent this from happening to other teens on the internet. to me it’s obvious this was able to go on so long because colleen’s internet personality is targeted directly towards minors and so only minors were involved in or witnessed the drama. now they’re old enough to conceptualize what adam (or they themselves) went through, speak out about it, and actually be taken seriously because they have grown into adults themselves.

[alexstorm]

at least we have this space here to talk, try to speculate anything about Hozier’s life out there and his fans will attack you in a hot minute. // I agree with what mod said. also I think alex has brought it on himself a little bit with the way he’s behaved in relationship. he would say Arielle’s name at concerts (before singing songs he wrote about alexa might I add lmao), and publicly serenade Taylor and the matching tattoos. Not to mention the pda he would openly show with both. you can’t behave that way and then expect total privacy. Obviously people are gonna talk when u do shit like that. That’s why I think it’s odd sometimes when people describe Alex as super private. He’s only private in relationships when he wants to be, abt half the time. Hozier is consistently a private person and bc he has earned enough appreciation of his music, people choose to respect that privacy

Well, I do think Alex has earned that same appreciation of his music, it's just like you said, he contradicts it with all his other behaviour. He says he doesn't want to talk about the people he wrote songs about but then you see him in pap pics at the Daily Fail (paps called or not) with said people. I can't remember ever having seen pap pics of Hozier. He also frequents pap hot spots which he was able to avoid being photographed at most of the time but not all times (e.g. Chiltern Firehouse, Bowery, Il Pellicano, Sunset Tower). He's part of a members-only club with a no photos policy but still allows people to take pics with him there. Then why pay shit ton of money if you don't take advantage of the privacy that comes with that pricey membership? He walks red carpets/attends events with girlfriends when he feels like it but avoids them at other times. Like, consistency anyone?

Of course people are confused by all of that and want to understand. That's why they're intrigued whereas Hozier gets the appropriate privacy because he's consistent in his actions.