#and strangergraphics for the flower dividers

[cepheusgalaxy]

Febuwhump (2024) Masterlist

ID. A banner with a table full of trinkets and a skull, titled "Masterlist". End ID

💐 Yay first year doing febuwhump

Day 1: Helpless feat. Kaiki (tw eletrocution, torture)

Day 2: Solitary confinement feat. Meine (tw abusive parent)

Day 4: Obedience feat. Meine

Day 5: Rope burns feat. Aiden (tw torture)

Day 6: "You lied to me" feat. Polaris (tw death mention)

Day 7: Suffering in silence feat. Kaiki (tw forced eating, kinda?)

Day 8: "Why won't it stop?" feat. Kaiki as well (tw torture)

Day 9: (alt. prompt) Human weapon, in prompt form (tw dehumanization)

Day 12: Semi conscious feat. Miriam (tw blood and injury)

Day 13 (art): "You weren't supposed to get hurt" (tw blood)

Day 15: "Who did this to you?" feat. Meine (tw bullying ment)

Day 18: Too weak to move feat. Megan (tw torture)

Back to Febuwhump Masterlist (all years) | Writing Masterlist | WIP intros | OC intros | OC directory

[nectardaddy]

SERENDIPITY . . . kita shinsuke + f! reader

⤷ take me as I come

˖° take me as I come // or don't take me at all // I'm gonna let you down // I'm gonna lead you lost // darling, I mean well // I won't leave 'til I'm gone // I'm the maker of hell // burn every bridge I've known

             take me as I come , evan honer 

notes/CWs: set before 88 ford started, parental death mention, fighting/violence, brief undertones of organized crime, blood, disassociation, panic/anxiety attack, flawed (real) characters, language, misplaced anger, imposter syndrome, feelings of never being good enough, hurt/comfort as always, lore drop for yn <3

⤷ merry late christmas to @standcom and @wyrcan <333 I hope you enjoy it because this really pushed my writing limits and I think it came out way better than expected 

“What were you thinking?”

The same, old conversation that was drowned out behind the blood that still roared in her ears. Hot, boiling, and coursing through her veins as she kept her eyes to the ground; tracing over the cracked titles of the kitchen. 

“You weren't thinking. . .” 

Bits and pieces of the lecture came through here and there, and her jaw tightened at the accusation that was said out of anger. Her father was rough around the edges, callous, but kind when it came to her - his daughter. Always willing to take up arms and defend her if she was in the right, but this time she wasn't. 

“You coulda’ killed them!” A loud exclamation followed by a sigh and a screech of a chair. Her father had sat down roughly and leaned back, dragging his hands over his face before correcting his tone. “You coulda’ fucking killed them. . .”

“I wish I did.” 

The room fell silent at her remark. Her eyes never left the green tile of the floor, tracing over the cracks and dents with bruised, bloodshot eyes. Even still, she could feel her father's gaze harden on her. When she was little, she straightened up with that look; the repercussions of being grabbed by the ear from her late mother and lectured by her father was a big enough deterrent. Only this time it wasn't. 

The kitchen tap dripped, and the small splash echoed in her ears alongside the blood. Muddled together in a duo of chaos, and she closed her eyes. “I would've if Kita didn't pull me back.” 

“Well, thank fuckin’ god for Kita.” 

“I heard the woman died because the boss is into some shady shit. He's fucking stupid, getting his wife caught up in it-”

Her breath hitched in her throat at the words, and she felt her blood run cold. An accusation she heard here and there, that simply wasn't true. Her father did relatively clean work, though he did dabble; under the table work that he kept close to his chest - never, under any circumstances, did he put his family in harm's way. Her mother passed from a health complication; although, it didn't frankly matter, as people would believe anything other than the truth. 

“What the hell did you just say?” Her voice was firm, standoffish, and cold when she uttered a warning. She turned in a sharp snap, and bit her cheek hard when she realized it was a worker. A farm hand, her father’s help that she regularly had quarrels with. 

“He got his wife killed-” the person turned and she watched their eyes widen in horror. A sense of grief and terror engulfed them as she stood with her jaw tight and hands balled into fists. A sight to be held was the woman and her anger - scorned and violent. “Shit. . . I didn't-” 

But she didn't allow them to finish, not a syllable more, as the harsh crack of a fist hitting skin was the only thing that followed the abrupt pause. Quick to anger, slow to cool, a tornado of a woman barreling through an open plain as she stepped back with a huff. She watched them teeter back, held their nose with a loud groan as blood started to drip down their hands and onto the grass. “What the hell is wrong with you?” A pointed, rhetorical question from the person accused, “you're fucking crazy! Your whole family is batshit, I see where you get it from!” 

That's when she lost herself entirely.

Red and orange were always her favorite colors. It matched the sunset every evening, it mirrored the leaves that would fall down in her favorite season, it reminded her of oranges and apples that she would get at the farmers market. They were warm colors, happy colors.

But now, red was tainted.

Red was metallic and caused a stench that made her soul stop in its tracks. Red was what she saw when she lost herself in anger; red was too hot to touch but too cold to let out in solitude. Red was what dripped from her knuckles, her mouth, every gash and cut she received after she threw the first punch. 

Her chest heaved for air, sputtering and coughing, but unrelenting as she landed blow after blow - after blow. Her vision was blurry; sweat, tears, and blood pooled in her eyes that made it all the more difficult to see what she was doing - to witness the damage she was inflicting.

“I'll fuckin’ kill you!” Was the only sentence she managed to string together in her rage. Every other word was gibberish, curses, or insults laced with venom. A sharp tongue that knew no bounds, had little to no restrictions, but didn't know death threats until now. Didn't know the weight of such words until it passed her lips, but she only used the weight to her advantage, and kept going. 

The woman hadn't felt the forceful hands on her, too lost in incoherent rage to even feel cold fingers on scorched skin. She didn't fight the hands on her, as she didn't realize they were there until she was yanked backwards. Only then did she notice the ice cold fingers, squeezing her arms within a vice like grip as she was dragged back. “Get the hell off me!” 

She lunged forward and broke away, clawing at straws to attack the one person within her sights - a rabid animal that had a taste for blood and couldn't get enough. But once again, she was forced back; jerked with a force that normally would've taken her breath away, but now she didn't even have it to begin with. She fought against whomever held her; kicked, scratched, and clawed at the person who's only words were “please.” She turned within the grip, fist balled tight to deter anyone with the iron will to keep holding her, and reared back. 

Though, she didn't swing. 

Her fist didn't connect with a jaw per usual, it didn't connect with anything. The sharp snap of a punch wasn't heard, because she froze when she saw familiar brown eyes wide in concern. She watched as eyes flickered over her face in worry rather than horror, compassion rather than fear. And lowered her hand when she watched his eyes meet with it then return back to her. 

A fraction of a second, a brief silence and breath of air, before she fought against his hold again. The red in her eyes never faded, but would never be directed at him. “Let go of me, Kita! Get the hell off me!” 

“Y'know I can't do that, ma'am.” His voice was gentle and kind, despite the situation he found himself in and screams from her in comparison. 

“Like hell you can't! Let go! They talked about my mom, get the fuck off me, I swear to god-” 

“And now they know not to, you showed them what happens when they do. So, please-” 

“It's not enough!” 

“You'll hurt yourself if you do anymore!” His voice had a snap to it that she couldn't ignore, and she felt him pull her back again. Only this time, she fought a little less, made it a bit easier for him to do so. “You're already bleeding, ma'am, so please, just walk with me.”

So she did.

In silence, begrudgingly, as she kept turning her head to look back at the scene she walked away from. She felt him pull at her arm again, far more gently than the latter. “We need to get you cleaned up.” She took a sharp breath and nodded at his words. 

The woman sat silent, unmoving, as she watched the man through blurry eyes. Rummaging around in the medicine cabinet for something, anything, to aid her. But she only sighed. Sighed when he told her to take a seat earlier, sighed when he handed her whatever frozen food he found in the freezer for her black eye, and sighed when he finally found what he was looking for.

For once, the man didn't give her a small smile. Didn't tell her everything was alright, didn't remind her that workers are fickle and usually standoffish. Instead he was silent. Unspoken words remained in his mind, rather than his tongue. She sighed once more at the thought and frowned.

“You're upset with me,” spoken in a whisper, as the eye that wasn't covered with a frozen food flickered over to him.

“No, ma'am, I'm not.” A pause settled between them as she watched him look her over and frown. He placed a bottle of peroxide beside him, along with a roll of paper towels, before he sat down in front of her - the chair screeched against the kitchen floor. “They shouldn't have been talking about your family.”

“You're saying they deserve to be on the brink of death?” Pointed and distanced, she knew better than to think he would agree but asked in frustration. The heat of the emotion soothed her well more than any other; at least anger felt like a warm hug rather than a frigid slap.

He locked eyes with her for only a moment, desperately tried to decipher the swirling and dipping within them, but turned his gaze when he couldn't. Instead, he let out a breath as he took the bottle of peroxide and tipped it into a paper towel. “I'm saying they shouldn't talk about your family.”

The woman only hummed at the notion, but the grotesque feeling of shame crept up to her. He was disappointed, though he wouldn't say it, and it made her stomach tie in knots at the mere thought. Kita was compassionate, endearing, but cold and calculated when it came to his beliefs. What was right, in his eyes, would always outweigh all else.

She felt him rub that coarse paper towel over her arm, and hissed as the liquid on it seeped into wounds. He continued on in silence; however, only pausing to give her a moment's peace from pain every now and then. But the surge of true agony came when he moved to her knuckles, busted and bloodied - broken.

The yelp she let out, followed by a string of swears, made him pull away and look at her in worry. It was as if he put the disappointment on the back burner without a second thought, removed it from the forefront of his mind as soon as he believed he had truly hurt her. “I think your knuckles are broken,” a wary sentence, but not spoken from fear.

“No shit, Kita,” she groaned as she placed the, now thawed, food down on the table from her eye. The frustration never, really, left her from earlier, only festered and bubbled until it came to a head once more. She pulled her hand away from him and looked down, finally taking in the blood and bruises that littered her. Her dominant hand was swollen, knuckles busted and caked in blood - some hers, some not - and her eyes flickered over to the other hand.

The non-dominant seemed far worse, as the man in front of her hadn't moved to it, hadn't cleaned it. She found it hard to take in the sight, battered and bloodied never seemed to be exactly what she wished for, and moved her gaze to him. “God-” muttered under her breath as she tried to make a fist, but stopped upon realizing she couldn't. “They're definitely broken.”

“You'll have to get it checked out,” to which she only sighed and agreed. “Can I have your other arm, then? I don't want to hurt you.” She nodded.

She never realized how cold the man ran until his fingers were touching her palm, almost holding it as he repeated the same process from before on her other arm. She knew it meant nothing, only for ease to clean her wounds, but her cheeks felt hot regardless. His fingers were calloused from work, but his touch was gentle, as if he'd break her at any moment from being too rough. It was a care she hadn't felt from another in a long time.

“You should let your boyfriend know you broke your knuckles.” There was a twinge of discontent in his tone, his voice falling down as he spoke of another in her life, a tone she failed to notice. A timbre that always went over her head, as Kita Shinsuke, in her mind, would never go for a woman like her - harsh and callous. Wild and standoffish. Everything he believed against.

“Why?”

“Might worry him,” he shrugged. “I'd be worried if my partner broke their knuckles.”

“I don't think he'd be too worried,” she began and his eyes flickered to meet hers, brows scrunched in confusion. “I broke up with him.” She heard him hum in response. In reality, the man was over the moon about the news, but would never let it show. All too often did he notice the woman’s past partners, and each and every one didn’t tick the boxes that were required of them by her. Whether it be demanding, brash, or an out right lack of character, he always heard about them, and he always kept silent. “‘Said I was too intense and should calm down, so I told him to fuck off. ‘Said I was crazy too,” she sighed and dropped her eyes to her hand. “Maybe he's right.”

He shook his head and pulled away from her arm, nearly cleaned off so he decided to give her a break from the stinging liquid. “He's not.”

“You're just saying that so you don't end up like the other person just now.”

“Regardless of what happened, I don't think you're crazy.” A wave of deja vu hit him then; having had the conversation before with her a number of times, and every time it made his heart sink further. He hoped one day she would find someone to make her happy, to treat her well; whether or not that was him, he didn't mind. As long as the woman in front of him found the joy she so greatly deserved, he believed he could die content. “I think he's an asshole for saying something so wrong. You deserve someone who treats you with respect, like an equal.”

Her lips pulled into a small smile at the notion, hearing his voice change slightly in frustration. A barely there emotion for him, but one the woman poked and prodded at whenever it arose. “I didn't know you knew how to swear,” she mused, and kept the same smile. There was a long silence that filled the room, and she closed her eyes to enjoy it for once as her smile slowly dropped. Anger was the only emotion she truly felt at peace with, the sticky, hot emotion felt nice even if it burned her right down to the embers. Flames felt better than the frost bite of the cold.

The man remained silent as he returned to cleaning her wounds, focusing now on her non-dominant hand that wasn’t fractured. Beneath blood and dirt, he found hands he never took the time to look at. Calloused, from what he imagined to be a life’s work of farm chores, and scarred from other altercations. Knuckles littered with small scrapes and bumps from a life filled with vengeance, proving herself to be as strong as she spoke, and an anger that fueled every wrongdoing she ever made.

Once he was done, he pulled away once more. He held a small frown as his eyes looked over her face. Blood spattered and bruised, and a black ring started to form under her left eye. Her eyes were closed; however, and she seemed rather peaceful despite the juxtaposition of her attire. But he had grown accustomed to seeing her pull her mind away from whatever was going on, removing herself from a situation all while being there physically. An unhealthy, testy habit he learned she picked up years ago. Fight or flight always moved from decimate to flee.

“May I clean your cheek?” He asked quietly, and she nodded at his question that broke the silence. She felt her breath hitch in her throat; however, when he scooted closer to her. Knees just barely touched as she heard his chair screech against the kitchen floor. The man radiated warmth, the fleeting touch on her knee sent a shockwave through her soul, and she hated it. She reopened her eyes to look at him, to tell him to move back, but was rendered speechless when she did. Kita looked at her like she was the only woman in the world that mattered, and it made her want to heave.

His eyes were focused as he pressed the peroxide soaked paper towel on her cheek, unwavering and respectful as he looked over her features. “They got you pretty good.” Spoken through a barely there smile, and her breath failed her. He was close enough she could smell the earthiness of his clothes, sweat and dirt muddled with the soap from his laundry detergent. And for the first time in her life she felt flustered.

“Yeah,” she whispered, and turned her eyes away from his own. “But you saw how they looked.” He only hummed in response and her eyes moved down his physique, finally taking them in. The man had strong, toned arms hidden underneath long sleeves, but was rather small in comparison to how much he was capable of - brute force she often coined as ‘cowboy strength.’ As her eyes wandered further, she noticed the dirt and mud on his pants, and specks of blood that seeped through denim; she came to the conclusion the blood was her own, as the only scratches on the man were on his hands. “I'm sorry.”

He seemed taken back by the words at first, unfamiliar with the phrase to come from the woman. But quickly brushed it off as if it were nothing. “For what? You didn't do nothin’ to me.”

“Fightin’ you so hard,” she mumbled before wincing as he touched the peroxide to another cut on her cheek.

He mumbled a gentle, “sorry,” before she continued on.

“You were just trying to help.” Slowly but surely, she began to resent her own actions because of how much the man inserted himself in them. Oftentimes, coming far too close for comfort at the end of her hellish anger. But even still, he remained. Not once did Kita ever stray away, despite how gruesome or ugly things became. It made her stomach tie in knots, and the blood in her veins run scalding hot - she believed down to her every fiber that she should hate him for it. But she couldn’t.

“Don't worry-”

“Can it,” she cut him off with a harsh breath. “Don't sit here and tell me not to worry about it, when I know you’re probably all black and blue.”

“It's fine, I-”

“But it's not fine,” she huffed. “You put up this front of being so compassionate, sweet, and kind. But I know, deep down, you think I'm the biggest idiot alive; flying off the handle again just because someone had some choice words.” Her voice had gotten louder with every phrase, and she didn’t notice he had pulled away. The woman had a knack for biting and snapping at those who aided her, she always believed they didn’t mean such words. She would always bite the hand that fed her, and she didn’t care if she starved as a result.

“Why would I think that?”

He phrased the question gently, thoughtfully, as he knew one wrong move meant the dial got turned to max. But the fire already roared in her eyes, so he sat there and bore the blaze regardless. “Because everyone thinks that!” Her voice was loud in comparison to the quiet kitchen, but pained when every syllable came out forced. There was a moment's pause and he watched her let out a loud sigh before she continued on. “Everyone thinks that, Kita,” she repeated, softer as he saw her shoulders drop. “I'm the crazy woman with an already lit fuse just waiting to blow up.”

Her eyes returned to the man in that moment, and watched as his eyes flickered over her face. Slow and methodical, calculated but not cold. As if he were trying to figure out how she ticked, to see the gears turning in her mind. “I wish you'd give yourself more credit, ma'am.”

“What?” Was all that managed to slip past her lips, brows scrunched and mind unsure.

“Give yourself more credit,” he reassured. “So you're angry? Anger doesn't make you crazy, it makes you human. People just don't realize they got something good until it's gone.”

“I'm not a good person, Kita. I-”

“Sure you are.” She didn't think the man was one to cut her off, or frankly had the gumption to do so, but she promptly closed her mouth when he did. There was something about the man she found captivating - enthralling. She found it endearing to be in his presence, feeling almost normal as he spoke to her like anyone else, like an equal. His kindness never went unnoticed, despite how it filled her with a heat she found foreign and misjudged for anger. “If you weren't a good person, you wouldn't do the things you do.”

The man continued on per usual, back to treating her cuts and scrapes as if it were something to brush off. He tipped the peroxide once more into a paper towel, and leaned in, and once more she found herself flushed over the proximity. “Like what exactly?”

“You're one of the most hardworking people I know,” he began with a small smile. “You're steadfast in your beliefs, you're loyal, and you care a lot more than you let on.” His touch was gentle, even as he scrubbed and wiped at the dried blood on her face. A care that was meticulous, a care that made her stomach churn. “You don't let your dad work in the fields anymore since he's gotten older, you treat every worker you're on good terms with like an old friend, and I don't think I've ever seen you let someone leave here hungry - friend or foe alike.”

A sharp tongue and vile words had no sanction here, no foothold as she swallowed hard. Her vision became fogged as eyes welled with tears, an action that was foreign - an action that felt wrong. She bit her tongue hard at the feeling, and swallowed once more, briskly fighting off the lump in her throat and the sorrowful emotion in one fell swoop. The woman was sorely mistaken that she had succeeded, and felt the sickly drip of a tear run down her face.

She had expected him to acknowledge it, to coddle her, like many did when she was young. To give pity even though it felt like a steak knife through the gut, and to wallow in the emotion with her. Because what was worse than a poor woman crying? But he didn't. Instead, she felt him wipe it away. Simply and softly, even going as far to disguise his action through wiping at the blood just under her eye.

“You're a good person.” He assured, “even good people get angry and do things they shouldn't.”

It was as if she felt the world stop spinning. Forever locked in a perpetual cycle of wanting to vomit and wanting to engulf the man in a hug. But she did neither, as all she could do was stare. To lock eyes with him and hope he would never pull away, to keep the moment until the end of her days. “Shinsuke?”

The call of his given name made his stomach lurch to his throat, and he felt his cheeks get hot at the notion alone. He faltered in his actions, only for a second, before he continued on. “Yes, ma'am?”

“You're not scared of me at all, are you?”

“No.” He assured, and he gave her a small smile. A smile that said it was alright, a smile that held the compassion she needed. “Not at all.”

taglist (open, send an ask)

@wyrcan @chizunata @seroh @chemiru @standcom

@h3xi2g0n3 @localgaytrainwreck @mollyrolls @causenessus @diorzs

@rory-cakes @phoenix-eclipses @pattys-got-cakes @girlkissersco

@jaynawayna @aliensstolemyheart @le000xxgrd @cherrypieyourface @theycallmenanamisgirl

@softpia @bokutoko @guitarstringed-scars @totallytatum @bakery-anon

@hyunteru @kameyyy @nekozaki @eggyrocks @angelichwv

@wakashudou @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @localgaytrainwreck

[dailyramona]

the jacket

[jils-things]

❝... just take it, cupcake. ❞

LITTOL CHIBI COMM BY CIRQUEDIZZY 🥹🥹🥹💚💚 LOOK AT HIM HE LOOKS SO SHY WKWKWKWKWKWKWW 💚💚💚💚💚

[catscidr]

// 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐞𝐥 // — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ↳ crossposted from ao3

⋆.˚ synopsis — you're a florist, stuck in an endless loop of customer service and capitalism. you're suddenly thrown for a loop when you're chosen to be the one to mingle with the second harbinger for the sake of rekindling fontaine's relationship with snezhnaya. unfortunately for you, he's very hard to work with and he seems to exist purely to make your life harder. shenanigans and emotions ensue

⋆.˚ pairings and characters — il dottore x f!reader, segments x/& reader. ↳ more soon; character list will be updated as the chapters come out!

⋆.˚ general tags — crack taken seriously (sortof), canon divergence, fluff, angst, rivals to lovers

⋆.˚ blog tag — #୧ ‧₊˚fbbts

// 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 //

⋆.˚ ch. i — painfully punctual ↳ first meeting of many.

⋆.˚ ch. ii — poor self soothing skills ↳ you discuss your predicament with neuvillette and dig yourself into an even deeper hole with your predicament.

⋆.˚ ch. iii — tba!

[autism-corner]

[baby-yongbok]

Poly SKZ!Fake Texts - "Who Asked Me Out First?"

✧ Pairing: Ot8!Skz x Afab!Reader ✧Genre: Fluff? Crack? Something like that. ✧a/n: This set of texts starts with three individual chats then goes into the group chat. Enjoy! ✧ Masterlist ✧

flower divider made by @strangergraphics

Perm. Tag List:

@dreamingaboutjisung @nxtt2-u @kayleefriedchicken

@compersian @kibs-and-bits @lixiluvs @armystay89 @lghtdarling

@teddy-stay , @baconcupcakes123, @moonchild9350 ,

@krayzieestay, @soulsbbg , @stay-bi , @yzsqu , @gho-ster , @lghtdarling

Fake Text (Only) Tag List:

@binnieonabike

[jeonginsleftcheek]

With you, always

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader (implied fem)

genre: fluff, suggestive, pinch of angst

wc: 5.5k

synopsis: you ask your best friend to help you win over your crush.

warnings: college!au, fake dating, best friends to lovers trope, crying, a few kissing scenes and one make out scene

a/n: wanted to try my hand out at a fake dating scenario, hope you like this one🥹🫶🏻

(i also needed something cute and fluffy bcs i had the shittiest week😭)

divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

masterlist

Maybe it was an exaggeration, but for Hyunjin today was the most important day of his life.

It had been more than a month since he started gathering the courage to finally confess to his best friend, you.

He was more than nervous, tossing and turning in his bed the night prior, imagining all the scenarios, every single possibility from you falling into his arms to you slapping him and walking away forever.

He couldn't stand the thought of the last option, hoping that even if you didn't reciprocate his feelings, maybe you'd still be his best friend cause he really would suck it up for you, just so he can stay by your side.

But Hyunjin was 99% sure you felt the same, and that the 1% was just his own doubts creating negative outcomes in his mind.

You've been best friends for almost five years now, meeting through your mutual friend Changbin who you lived close to and hung out with, inevitably becoming close to Hyunjin too.

Changbin moved away but still kept in touch, leaving Hyunjin and you to bond with each other; going as far as attending the same university.

You've been inseparable since then, there was rarely any moment you didn't spend together.

There was no way you spent so much time with him and didn't come to love him the way he loved you; that's what Hyunjin kept telling himself.

Anyways, you were always so good to him, it must mean something right?

Hyunjin's palms were clammy as he wiped them on his jeans for the nth time today, giving himself the ick for a moment.

He was on the edge, jittery as he kept shifting from foot to foot, waiting for you to arrive so you can go to your classes together.

He had it all planned.

After class he would ask you to meet up in your 'secret place', a bench under a tree near the campus where you two would sit and spend time together, and there he would gift you the painting he had carefully created for you, the beautiful everlasting bouquet of flowers that would never wither just like his love for you.

Then he would tell you how much you mean to him, how he has loved you this whole time... And he didn't know how you'd react, maybe your eyes would tear up, maybe you'd hug him instantly... But he knew it would end with a sweet kiss and Hyunjin asking you to be his.

He got lost in the scenarios he's been making up for weeks, not even noticing that you appeared before him.

"Earth to Hyunjin?" you wave your hand in front of his face and he snaps out of his thoughts, hoping he didn't say anything out loud and accidentally revealed his plan.

"Oh, sorry I'm still asleep." Hyunjin chuckles, his cheeks rosy.

"That's why I got you this." you give him a cup of coffee, holding another cup in your other hand.

"See now, this is why I hang out with you." Hyunjin nods, grabbing the cup from your hand.

Your fingers touch for a moment and he feels electricity run through his body.

"Glad to know you're just using me for coffee." you act annoyed even though you know he's just teasing you.

"And your notes. You're way better at taking them than I am." he says after taking a sip of his beverage, a smug smile spreading on his face.

"That's cause you daydream 24/7, you dork." you nudge him with your shoulder as you start making your way across the campus.

"I do not." Hyunjin pouts.

"Yes, you do. You were literally doing it just now when I came up to you." you poke his side and he jumps a little, letting out a squeak.

"I was just... nevermind. Listen-" Hyunjin starts, swallowing a big lump that's forming in his throat.

You look up at him, your eyes big and curious as you stare into his, making him melt into the ground.

"There's something I want to tell you. Today. I mean, later. Yeah. We can meet up at our spot?"

You notice his voice trembling a little, hoping it's not some bad news.

"Really? I have something I wanna tell you too." you smile wide and Hyunjin's heart starts pounding against his chest.

Did you think of confessing to him too?

"What?" he laughs in disbelief. "About what?"

"Well... Should I just say it? I'm impatient, you know that." your eyes sparkle as you keep looking at Hyunjin, your smile wide and cheeks dusted in pink.

"Yeah." Hyunjin's throat constricts. This is it.

"Okay. Well. Remember Minho? We have a few classes with him?"

Hyunjin frowns. What does Minho have to do with anything?

"Yeah, vaguely. What about him?" he gulps.

"I think I have a crush on him."

And just like that, Hyunjin's ears start ringing as he stands there, feeling like someone just dumped icy water all over him and also smacked him with the bucket for good measure.

"What?" he doesn't want to believe that you just said that.

"Minho, I have a crush on him. Like- it's been there for some time but it was just a little one, I didn't pay attention to it but last weekend I ran into him and we talked, and he was really sweet."

"Is that all that it took for you to develop a crush on him?" Hyunjin's scowl is evident, annoyance written all over his face.

"Hyunjin!" you were taken aback by his tone. "No. It's just- we had a brief conversation and I felt like we had so much in common. I thought you'd be happy for me, you always tease me that I'll die alone if I don't find someone."

Hyunjin can see the confusion and insecurities reflecting in your eyes and his face softens.

He can't be cruel to you, never.

"I- I am happy for you. I just... Need to process."

"Are you jealous?" you smirk. "You'll always be my best friend, Jinnie, you know I'll never replace you."

"Best friend, huh?" Hyunjin scoffs. "Great. I just remembered I gotta go do something." he turns around, muttering under his breath.

"What? Class is about to start, where are you going?" you look at him confusedly as Hyunjin stares at the floor, walking away from you.

"Hyunjin, watch out!" you try to warn him, but it's already too late, his head collides with one of the trees growing in front of the building, the force of it making him fall back down on his butt as he wails loudly, grabbing at his forehead, his coffee spilled by his side.

"This is what I get." he mumbles, his bottom lip trembling as his eyes water.

"You dumbass." you appear by his side in mere seconds. "Let me see."

Hyunjin puts his hands down as you inspect his forehead.

"I think it's gonna be okay." you say, leaning so close to him so he can feel your warmth and smell your shampoo.

"Since when is this tree here?" Hyunjin grunts.

"Since like 60 years ago." you giggle.

Before he can compute what's happening, you grab Hyunjin's face and lean in, pressing your lips on his forehead gently.

How could you do this and not love him?

His eyes water again.

"Oh, don't cry you drama queen. This is like the third time this week that you ran into something with that thick head of yours. By now, I think the tree took more damage than you." you joke, trying to lift the mood up.

Hyunjin chuckles a little, not being able to stay mad at you even though you were driving him crazy in this moment.

"Come on, let's go to class now." you help pull him up, throwing the spilled cup in the trash.

"Here, we can share my coffee." you give him your cup, and Hyunjin shakes his head.

"It's okay."

"Also, what were you going to tell me?" you beam at him and Hyunjin feels like someone has squeezed his heart and lungs.

"Nothing. It's not important." he forces a smile, finding it harder to breathe suddenly.

"Really? Sounded important to me."

"It's not. Forget about it." he says as you walk through the front door.

"Alright, if you say so."

The two of you sit in one of the back rows as always, your eyes immediately searching for Minho, who always sits up front.

It's one of the classes you share with him and you await eagerly to see him, hoping he'd look up and wave at you.

Hyunjin takes out his notebook and pen, trying to act normal even though he feels as if he's been shot right in the chest and his heart is now bleeding out slowly.

He hears you gasp quietly and looks up.

Minho just walked in, dressed in a sleek black shirt and some jeans, looking effortlessly perfect and Hyunjin can see you visibly perk up as you stare at the man with a smile.

You should be looking at Hyunjin like that.

No, Hyunjin shakes his head. He shouldn't be thinking like this, he should be happy for you, he should support you.

After all, that's what best friends do.

You're getting ready to wave, but Minho doesn't even spare a glance your way, his face unreadable as he sits down, talking to some guy that's sitting next to him.

You visibly deflate and Hyunjin feels bad, putting his hand on your shoulder to reassure you.

"I'm sure he'll say hello to you later." Hyunjin says and you nod at him with a sigh.

During the entire lecture, your eyes kept wandering over to Minho while Hyunjin kept his eyes on you, his heart breaking as he watched you falling for someone else right before his eyes.

Why the hell did he wait for so long to tell you how he feels?

Now, he's lost his chance.

Hyunjin slumps back in his seat and decides to actually start taking notes even though he knows he'll end up stealing yours like he always does.

For the last three days you've been gushing about Minho nonstop.

Minho did this, Minho did that, Minho said this, Minho said that. Minho, Minho, Minho.

Hyunjin was already sick of it and imagining that guy actually reciprocating your feelings and becoming your boyfriend was making Hyunjin's stomach churn.

Minho seemed to take some kind of interest in you, at least that's what you thought from the brief conversations you'd have with him in the halls while Hyunjin watched you interact with him, your eyes sparkly and cheeks rosy.

He wanted to smack his own forehead against the wall until it hurts enough so he can forget about the pain he feels on the inside.

But the more Hyunjin observed Minho, it seemed to him that the guy was just being polite to you, answering your questions with a small smile on his face, nodding here and there as you talked.

That was not the face of a man in love, at least that's what Hyunjin believed.

"Minho told me that this shirt really matches my eye color." you're almost jumping around Hyunjin and he rolls his eyes.

"It's ugly."

"Hyunjin!" you smack your best friend's arm and he winces, acting like you just broke his bones.

"What?" he looks at you, his brows furrowed.

"You're jealous, Hyun. Admit it." you smirk, poking his side.

"Am not. Let's just go to class."

"Did you know that Minho's a dancer?" you quip suddenly as the two of you sit down.

"So what? I dance too." Hyunjin answers, taking his notebook out and not sparing you a glance.

He can't bring himself to look at your face while you talk about your crush.

"I know you dance but I didn't know he does too. He told me I could come watch him practice some time." you smile and Hyunjin almost chokes on his breath.

"He w-what?"

"I'm gonna watch him dance." you smirk and Hyunjin shakes his head.

"Whatever. Enjoy."

"Come with me." you grab at his arm and he tries to swat you away.

"I don't want to."

"Come on, pleaseeeeee." you whine, pouting at your best friend as you lean your cheek on his shoulder.

Hyunjin melts when he looks down at you.

"Fine." he sighs.

"Yay!" you quickly kiss his cheek and Hyunjin dies on the inside a little. "You're the best, Jinnie."

"Yeah, yeah, I know I am." he smirks at you while shaking his head.

Hoping somewhere deep inside that this is just a phase.

-

The very same day, Minho has dance practice and you drag Hyunjin to the dance room to watch.

There are some other dancers there, and some people sitting and watching so the two of you sit down next to them.

Hyunjin takes out his phone and you frown at him.

"Aren't you gonna watch with me?" you ask.

"I don't really care about his dancing. But you go ahead and enjoy." he shrugs.

"Sure." you look at Hyunjin for a few more moments as he concentrates on scrolling, a little sigh escaping your lips.

You're a bit worried since Hyunjin has never acted like this before and you kept wracking your brain, trying to figure out what is going on with him.

The music starts soon and you look up, your eyes falling on Minho.

His dance moves are sharp and on time, executed so smoothly, you've never seen someone dance so perfectly before.

You stare in awe and Hyunjin looks up with an annoyed face, his eyes traveling between the two of you and how flabbergasted you look.

When Minho finishes dancing, you're ready for him to come up to you and talk but instead a guy skips towards him and starts talking with a big smile on his face, his arms flailing around in excitement.

Minho smiles wide, eyes all sparkly and cheeks all rosy, you've never seen him react like that.

"So, what did you think?" you ask Hyunjin, hoping Minho won't just ignore you.

"He's too stiff." Hyunjin mutters, still looking at his phone.

"He totally isn't." you squint your eyes at him before standing up.

Sadly for you, Minho doesn't spare you a glance, quickly leaving the room with the guy who joined him.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" Hyunjin laughs in disbelief.

"Keep your voice down." you pinch his thigh.

"Ow!" he swats your hand away. "There is no way, y/n. I'm not gonna pretend to be your boyfriend."

"Please, Hyun! Who else will I ask? You want me to go to some stranger?!" you almost yell yourself and Hyunjin shushes you.

"What's in it for me?" Hyunjin crosses his arms and leans back.

"Mm, you're helping your lovely best friend?" you bat your eyelashes at him.

"This is crazy." he shakes his head.

"Is that a yes or no?" you beam at him.

"Fine. Fine, I'll be your fake boyfriend." Hyunjin feels like crying and laughing at the same time, the absurdity of his reality was really something.

"Yes! Thank you, Jinnie!" you throw your arms around him and he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close, his heart fluttering in his chest.

"I owe you." you mutter into him.

"Damn right you do." he exhales, trying to calm his fast beating heart down.

For some reason, in your mind it made perfect sense.

Minho needed a nudge to make a move on you, and what better way to nudge him than making him jealous?

Hyunjin thought it was the dumbest idea he had ever heard but at this point, he was hoping that through your fake relationship you'd come to realize that he would be the perfect boyfriend for you, not some random guy you talked to a few times.

While he was trying to fall asleep in his bed that night, Hyunjin wondered just how far are you willing to take the lie.

-

The next morning, while Hyunjin waited for you to arrive like he always did, his heart was beating fast.

He was so nervous about the whole ordeal, not knowing how you'll approach him.

"Jinnie!" you waved slightly with a cup of coffee as soon as you spotted him.

He waved back a bit reluctantly as you beamed at him.

"Morning. Coffee for my handsome boyfriend." you smirked as you gave him his cup.

What the actual fuck?

His legs trembled for a moment and Hyunjin felt like the ground was crumbling underneath his feet and pretty soon he'll be joining it.

"Don't say it like that." he freaked out on the inside, hoping he wasn't blushing too hard.

"What? We need to get into character." you smiled, hooking your arm with his and practically dragging him towards the campus.

Oh, you are so going to be the end of him.

"Why can't we just act like we normally do?" Hyunjin whined as you approached the building.

"Because it won't be believeable. We have to act sweet like... like imagine if we were actually dating what would you do?"

You must be crazy, Hyunjin thinks as his lips fall open in shock.

"I'd probably kiss you." he says, half joking and knowing you'd never say yes to something so ludicrous.

"Okay, let's do it." you stand close to him, your hand slipping down to his as you interlace your fingers.

"What?!" Hyunjin yells and you squeeze his hand as a few people look your way.

"Hyunjin. Make it believeable. Come on, kiss me." you nod quickly.

Hyunjin's lips open and close a few times as he searches your face.

"In front of everyone? Shouldn't our first kiss be more intimate?" Hyunjin swallows and that's when your cheeks become rosy.

"They don't know it's our first kiss. Plus it's just pretend so let's do it." you don't know how much your words hurt him but Hyunjin is a fool for you so he nods.

"Okay." he lets go of your hand only to cup your cheek, and for some reason your heartbeat picks up speed.

You chalk it up to not kissing anyone for so long.

It's definitely not because of Hyunjin, right?

His eyes soften as he leans in and you meet him halfway, hearing his breath hitch before your lips finally make contact.

Hyunjin doesn't care why you're kissing him, because in this moment nothing really exists except you and him, the world around you melting away.

His lips are soft against yours, he tastes of coffee and the chocolate croissant he had for breakfast and just so Hyunjin.

It's exactly what you imagined he'd taste like.

Not that you ever thought about kissing your best friend.

You lean back before thoughts consume you and before the kiss can escalate.

Hyunjin feels like you just took his breath away.

"See? It went good." you say, but your voice trembles and your face is red.

"I think that was better than good." Hyunjin pouts but before you can retaliate someone calls out to you.

The two of you turn towards the voice and see Chan, one of your acquaintances from class as he approaches you with a smirk.

"Did you two finally get together?" he asks and Hyunjin coughs as your eyes widen.

"I- yes we did." you answer quickly as Hyunjin tranforms into a frozen tomato next to you.

"Gosh, I'm so happy for you guys. I always knew you were into each other, it was so obvious. Good luck!" Chan throws finger guns your way before running off to class.

His words echo in your mind. You were obvious? What the heck does that mean?

"Let's go to class." you grip Hyunjin's hand and he nods, still stunned by the kiss you shared and what Chan had said.

You sit in your usual spot in the back, Minho arriving a few minutes later and you visibly perk up.

"Quick, put your arm around me!" you startle Hyunjin who was doodling in his notebook but he does exactly what you asked.

His arm wraps around your shoulder and he brings you closer to his body just as Minho looks up your way.

You wave at him and Minho waves back with a smile, his eyes moving to Hyunjin shortly before he turns around and sits down.

"Did you see that? Do you think he looked jealous?" you whisper to your best friend.

"Maybe." Hyunjin shrugs, retracting his arm.

"Maybe?" you whine. "I need a yes not a maybe."

"Give it some time, y/n." Hyunjin is back to doodling.

How is he gonna endure this torture?

As it always was on the weekends, Hyunjin came to your place to hang out.

Usually your roommate was staying with her boyfriend every weekend so you had the apartment all to yourself.

After a good old gossip session and a movie marathon with snacks, Hyunjin and you were still snuggled up in your bed.

You were barely awake now, trying to focus on the third movie in a row while Hyunjin was keeping his eyes only on you.

A small smile danced on his lips as he observed your pouty face, your eyes fighting to stay open as you blinked tiredly, your face illuminated only by the tv.

He scooted closer to you, putting his arm around you and that jolted you from your half asleep state.

"What are you doing?" you asked and he chuckled, leaning his head on your shoulder.

"Getting my cuddles." Hyunjin smirks.

"Who gave you cuddle privileges?" you smirk back, deciding to tease him a little.

"I'm your best friend, of course I get cuddle privileges. Plus, consider it your payment for making me fake-date you." Hyunjin nuzzles into you, making you shiver a little.

"So it's that horrible to date me, hm?" you giggle, some kind of tension washing over you.

"Oh yeah, the absolute worst." Hyunjin jokes and you smack his arm immediately.

"Hey!" you protest and he laughs.

It's quiet for some time, and you close your eyes, your body is suddenly aware of everything.

You're aware of Hyunjin's warmth, his familiar and comforting scent, the way his breath hits your neck, his fluffy hair tickling your cheek, the heaviness of his arm and leg thrown over you and your heart starts beating faster.

You wonder why since this is not the first time Hyunjin and you cuddled, you started this tradition a year ago, it became normal to cuddle every weekend he stayed over.

You suddenly also wondered if that was normal; to cuddle your guy best friend.

You also thought about the kiss the two of you shared, what mostly replayed in your mind wasn't the actual kiss, it was the way Hyunjin looked at you when you parted.

His eyes seemed full of love and affection, he seemed soft and putty in that moment like he really wanted to kiss you, like it meant so much to him.

"Hyunjin?"

"Hm?"

"Can we practice kissing?" your brain just always comes up with great ideas.

Hyunjin freezes, his body stiff against yours.

"What?" he looks up at you with a nervous chuckle.

"So that it's more believeable in public."

He smirks.

"Are you sure it's not because you liked kissing me?" Hyunjin jokes, though on the inside he hopes you'll say yes.

"Shut up!" you whine. "This is just pretend, okay?"

"Sure, if you say so." he stares at you with a grin and you don't know if you would rather slap him or kiss him.

"Go on then." you whisper.

Hyunjin chuckles at your impatience, throwing his head back for a moment as his laughter jostles you.

When he looks back at you, something shifts in his eyes and you swallow the lump in your throat.

He slowly leans in and why are you nervous suddenly?

Hyunjin's lips press against yours and this time you melt as he hovers above you, kissing you gently, his fingers caressing your cheek and tracing your skin.

Your hand comes up to hold the back of his neck and play with his hair which makes Hyunjin press against your lips harder, kissing you with more passion than before.

Your mind is dizzy suddenly, this is nothing like the innocent kiss you shared in public, and something starts stirring up inside you as you drown out the noise of the movie, focusing only on your best friend.

Oh my god, you're making out with your best friend!

That thought crosses your mind just when Hyunjin's big hand ends up on your waist, squeezing a little as his tongue swipes your lip and you hear it in his heavy breathing, how worked up he's getting.

Something inside you ignites when you part your lips, letting him push his tongue inside as he starts gently playing with yours.

You almost quit thinking, your brain feeling foggy as your fingers tangle in his hair and you pull just a little.

It's enough to make Hyunjin groan into you and that snaps you back into reality.

You gasp, suddenly backing away as Hyunjin slowly blinks his eyes open, his face filled with lust and confusion of the sudden stop, his plump lips even more swollen and red after kissing you.

You can't believe he looks so attractive.

"I think we should stop now." you gulp.

"Was it too much?" Hyunjin's voice is raspy and something throbs inside you.

"Yeah."

"You wanted to practice." he adds, his eyes glued to your lips.

You didn't know what to say. Suddenly, you felt so confused about your feelings.

It's not like you never imagined kissing your best friend or being in a relationship with him but it always seemed to you like you would never be able to cross that barrier.

Being Hyunjin's best friend was familiar, comfortable, you didn't want to spoil that.

"What's wrong?" Hyunjin asks, seeing the cogs turning in your head.

"Hyunjin, why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Pretending to be my boyfriend." you sit up so he follows.

"Because you asked me to? I wanted to help you." Hyunjin lies through his teeth and you can read it now. It's like everything became clear to you.

"Would you really be happy if I got together with Minho?"

Hyunjin's stomach churns and anything good he felt just moments ago when he was kissing you disappears and is replaced by a feeling of nausea.

He averts his eyes from you, nervously biting on his lip.

"Hyunjin?"

"No. No, I wouldn't be happy." he admits quietly, his eyes trained on his lap, unable to look at you.

"Why?" you ask.

"Why? Why? Is it not obvious, y/n?" he says and your eyes meet.

"I love you, that's why." Hyunjin feels the weight of his hidden feelings finally lifting from his heart.

Your lips tremble as you stare at him in shock.

"Since when?"

"Since forever."

You suddenly get up, the reality of the situation dawning on you.

"You've loved me this whole time? And I never realized? And I asked you to fake date me to make another guy jealous and you- you went with it." your eyes well up with tears. "Oh my god, I am so stupid and insensitive!"

Hyunjin gets up too, quickly wanting to comfort you.

"No, y/n it's okay, I wanted to help you! I mean, if you're happy, I'm happy too even if it's not with me." you can hear the pain in his voice when he says that and your chest hurts.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"It's okay if you don't love me like I love you, I can't force you to feel the same." Hyunjin shakes his head.

"It's not like that... It's just; I need to process all of this." you back away from him as he looks at you, sadness in his eyes.

You can't look at him in that moment.

"Do you want me to leave?" his voice is quiet and small when he asks that.

"Yeah, I need to be alone."

Hyunjin doesn't say anything at first, only grabs his things as you stare at the wall, your brain on overdrive.

"Call me when you're ready to talk." he says and you nod, watching his back as he leaves your room.

As soon as you hear the apartment door close, you break into tears.

How could you've been so blind? Hyunjin was always right next to you, he was your person, your comfort, your best friend.

He did everything to make you happy, even indulging you in dumb requests like this one and now that he told you how he feels, everything started flooding in.

The way he'd hold you, the way he looked at you, the way he blushed when you touched his hand, how he seemed annoyed when you told him about Minho.

You were beating yourself up for being so stupid and hurting him when deep inside you always knew you loved him too.

But now, you were afraid that you'd also hurt Minho if he liked you.

So you decided to test that.

-

The next morning, Hyunjin was already awake when his alarm rang, a sleepless night behind him filled with tears and scenarios of you not being a part of his life anymore.

He screwed up, confessing like that, in the heat of the moment.

He can't forget your face, how shocked and sad you looked and how you didn't even wanna look at his face.

Hyunjin still waits for you at your meeting spot, hoping you'll arrive with a smile and a cup of coffee like you always do.

But as minutes pass, with a heavy heart, Hyunjin realizes you're not coming so he reluctantly makes his way to class alone.

His heart freezes when he walks into the building and sees you talking to Minho.

Unable to look at that, he quickly walks into class, sitting at his usual spot.

This is a disaster, he thinks.

If he just kept his mouth shut, you'd be here sitting next to him now, joking around and laughing like you always do.

If he'd kept it all in, maybe he'd have just a glimpse of how it would feel to be yours.

Maybe you'd have that sleepover you always do, when you fall asleep in his arms and Hyunjin can pretend you're his.

But you never come into class, even after Minho did, sitting up front at his usual spot, smiling at the boy next to him.

Hyunjin frowns and stands up, quickly making his way out before the class started as he searches for you.

He finds you sitting on one of the benches outside, looking exhausted and sad.

He wants to run to you but instead he decides to approach you slowly.

"Y/n?" he leans down to look at you and you scoff.

"Minho has a boyfriend."

"What?" Hyunjin asks.

"Minho. He's gay. Or whatever. He's dating Jisung. And I'm just so stupid." you frown as Hyunjin takes in the information.

You can hear the laughter bubbling up inside him.

"Go ahead, laugh at my embarrassment, I know you want to." you look at him and he does just that.

Hyunjin starts laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation and as you see his cute face becoming red from the laughter, you can't stay serious.

Breaking into giggles yourself, the two of you probably end up looking like a pair of maniacs as you keep laughing.

"You were really barking up the wrong tree." he sits next to you and you smack his arm, making him whine.

"Stop it, at least let some time pass before you start making jokes about this." you pout and he chuckles at you, finding you so endearing at that moment.

Without thinking, Hyunjin tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and you feel your face warm up.

"I'm sorry for dumping all my feelings on you. I didn't wanna make anything awkward and that is not the way I wanted to confess. Actually... I wanted to confess to you that day when you told me about Minho." Hyunjin says.

"Oh my god! When you asked me to meet up? I am double stupid." you groan, smacking your forehead with your palm.

"It's fine. We can be friends, I'll just try to-"

"Hyunjin." you stop him.

"Hm?"

"I love you too. And I'm sorry for not realizing that before and hurting you."

"Oh. Oh!" Hyunjin's eyes are wide. "You feel the same?"

You chuckle at his surprised expression, needing him close so you wrap your arms around his waist, scooting closer to him, your face buried in his chest.

Hyunjin feels relief wash over him as he wraps his arms around you, his hand caressing your head.

"Does this mean you want to be mine?" he asks breathlessly.

"Oh, I always was." you look up at him with a smile and he giggles, his heart beating fast.

"I'm gonna kiss you now." he leans in.

"Please do." you chuckle and he cradles your head in his hand as his lips press gently into yours.

This kiss feels even more special, the confession between you melting through your lips as you taste each other.

"Wanna ditch classes and get some coffee?" you ask when you part.

"With you, always."

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun

[tbaluver]

New Years Kisses- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader summary: spend the night of new years eve with your lover a/n: hihi lovelies! i apologize if this does nawt make sense and if it's cheesy af..i wanted to make something for the end of the year and end the year with something romantical (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ happy new years to everyone ! hoping this year is filled with more happiness and luv ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡

divider creds, @/ strangergraphics any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Neither of you wanted to be in the crowded city where people rush to find the best spot for the fireworks. The noise and the chaos of the crowd did not feel like the right place to end the year together. Instead, you both seek refuge in the park where luckily not a lot of people had the same idea. 

Xavier helps you spread the picnic blanket across the soft grass before you settle down beside each other. He'd drape an extra blanket over the two of you as you nestle closer into him while you both wait together as the minutes pass by slowly.

While you wait, he'd entertain you with his evol. Tiny orbs of light flickered in the air as if they were fireflies floating around the two of you.

As time passed, the distant sound of fireworks began to stir in the air. One by one different variations of colors and shapes fill the sky, the fireflies around you both disappearing under the vibrant lights above you.

Clicking your phone open to find out just one more minute to new years, another year with your lover. You rest your forehead against his until the seconds strike to midnight. His lips finally meeting yours softly, the warmth of your lips enveloping his.

May our days ahead be as bright and beautiful as this moment with you.

Zayne:

Zayne has never been the type to go to parties. He often rejects his colleagues' invitations without hesitation and with some kind of excuse. But things had changed ever since you came into his life, for the better of course. Ever since you two started dating, he’d start showing up to gatherings to his colleagues' surprise.

They had never seen him smile so often whenever you dropped by to bring him lunch or to simply just have a chat with him or how he would actually go home on time just to be with you. They were even more surprised to see him attend the New Year’s party they hosted but they couldn’t hide their happiness for both of you to be there.

At the snack bar, Zayne chats with Greyson, nibbling on macarons while Greyson follows your warning and makes sure that he doesn’t dare sip any sweet alcoholic drink. You were across the room, chatting with Yvonne and with some of the other nurses but his eyes kept flicking over to you as you talked. Your gaze met, a small smile curled up at the corner of his lips as you excuse yourself from the conversation to approach him. Greyson takes the sign, excuses himself and leaves you two alone.

“Would you like to come outside?” At first you wondered if he wasn’t feeling well but there was something in his eyes that made you think something else.

The venue was large and the garden outside was stunning. It reminded you of the garden he plans to have with you once he has the time to nurture it. “We’ll miss the fireworks Zayne,” you pouted, turning around to look back at the crowd disappearing behind you as you both wandered deeper into the garden.

3 2 1 happy new year! the countdown of the crowd echoes far behind you two.

He softly chuckles, making sure to stop at the spot where your favorite flowers bloomed. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his gaze locked with yours as he gently cups your cheek. He leans down, capturing your soft lips with his as the fireworks pops in the background.

May our love continue to grow for all the years to come

Rafayel:

New Year's Eve had become a bore all thanks to Thomas, who ruined both of your plans by setting up Rafayel for an event that was known to be one of the biggest one of the year. It was filled with celebrities, critics, and most importantly buyers. Neither of you wanted to be there. Endless parade of people continue to talk to him about his latest artwork or ask him about his future plans. It was all too much. He just wanted to be with you.

You spent the whole night separated as the crowd pulled him away again and again. But when Rafayel finally manages to escape from the recent group, he grabs your hand and you both slip away from the event, laughing as you run down the street. 

Rafayel leads the way, your hand firmly in his, the scent of the beach drifting you both with each step. His tie hung loosely around his neck and a few of his buttons were undone. The cool night air brushed against your skin as laughter bubbles between the two of you.

As you reach a secluded part of the beach, far away from the noise and chaos, Rafayel turns to you, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. He lifts you off the ground effortlessly, spinning you around, your foreheads touching.

He leans in closer, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek. His lips brushed against yours softly, “One for the past,” he murmurs. Before you can react, he leans back in again, fireworks exploding in the distance. “And one for the present,” he whispers against your lips.

For all the years we have ahead, may they be as sweet as tonight.

Sylus:

The N109 zone was apparently coming down with hard fog so no fireworks can be seen during the night. Luckily Sylus had no plans during the new years but however he is not being caught down in the city in Linkon with that crowd, making him clutch his pearls.

With just an easy pick of the lock using his evol, you two were found in one of the highest buildings to have the best view of the fireworks, just the two of you alone. You two draw small figures in the snow until some fireworks exploded early.

Little did you know he had some shapes of fireworks planned out for you. One a crow and one a dove that symbolized you two both and he couldn’t help but softly chuckly seeing your awe expression as the bright colors reflect in your eyes.

“it’s so pretty sy!”

“it sure is.” he says not leaving his eyes on you.

As the voices below began to countdown the final seconds to midnight, the air between you two thickened with anticipation. Without a word you leaned in closer, your faces drawing together. The final seconds to the new year ticked away as Sylus’s lips meet yours, his hand sliding to the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

To an eternity of happiness with you

[thiefcatmoth]

pac: what energy should you try to connect with?

general reading. pick a pile, listening to your intuition. if nothing resonates, leave this pac behind.

pile 1

you should try turning to the light. you can hang a suncatcher in the room, put a mirror or a prism that will direct the rays of light to the place where you are resting. if you like clear weather, you can sunbathe, squinting like a cat. if you like stormy weather, pay attention to lightning - its dance is mesmerizing, and perhaps you will find in it the very sign intended for you. and if you are a supporter of urbanism rather than nature, you can choose a calming night light for yourself or hang a garland in the room to watch the blinking lights.

pile 2

communication with the earth may suit you. if you like plants, immerse yourself in caring for them, try to find that flower or tree that you enjoy caring for. if you don't really like gardening, you can take a walk in the park or forest to just touch the earth, feel it with your fingers, you can even collect a handful to take with you. collecting herbarium or dried flowers may help you relax. or maybe you can find balance while working with clay during handicrafts?

pile 3

air can help you ease emotional wounds and find self-love. if you haven't tried it yet, you should try aromatherapy. aromas can help you manage your emotions and influence your state, even inspire you. in order to always have a piece of this with you, choose an aroma pendant or make a talisman with a drop of your favorite essential oil or oil perfume. listen to the songs of the wind, let the wind touch your skin, feel the freedom and let yourself go, like a gust of air.

pile 4

it seems to me that water, especially falling water, will be your helper. waterfalls and fountains will cleanse you and give you fortitude, watching the running water is very calming. try to catch falling raindrops and plunge your whole being into the downpour. let your feelings and thoughts flow freely. and if there is no opportunity to touch the elements, you can simply take a shower - running water, shower streams, drops of water from the tap will affect you no less. exhale and allow yourself to be cleansed.

pile 5

perhaps this will seem strange to you, but try to turn to lithotherapy - and do it in the semi-darkness. you do not need light to feel the texture of stones, their weight, temperature, feel the shape and size. surrender to touch and simply explore the world. if possible, make an amulet for yourself from a stone or with some stone elements, and when you feel anxious, touch the amulet. study the stones, spot which one suits you bes, and add it to your life - in jewelry or as a talisman under your pillow.

pile 6

even if you've never liked listening to music, turn to sounds. almost everything has sound. you can hear your breathing, the heartbeat of a loved one, the ticking of a clock, the beat of drums, chants, the rustling of leaves… pay special attention to rhythmic sounds that you can follow, turning off your vision and all other senses. any sounds can help you concentrate, calm down, sense danger in advance. even if you like the most exotic sound like, you know, thunder, you can always devote at least a couple of minutes to it alone with yourself, using your headphones.

thanks for the reading!

dividers by @strangergraphics-archive, all images are not mine

[bryan-writes]

Omg I loved your obey me headcanons, do you think you could do some for the brothers what you think they’d do if they missed MC? Like certain things they do to comfort or remind themselves of their beloved sheep 🙏

Hi anon, thank you so much omg🫶!! I hope you like these, I think I ended up making them a bit more sad than intended so I added their reactions to you coming back home to them!

Obey me headcannons— the seven brothers

Things the brothers do when you’re away, and how they react when you come back home to them <3

A tiny bit of hurt and a lot of comfort!

Credit to the lovely @strangergraphics for the dividers!

Lucifer

He buries himself in his work, convincing himself it's better than dwelling on the ache of your absence. His office fills with your ghost— he catches himself glancing at the empty chair you’d occupy during late-night talks, and every note you’ve left him sits neatly on his desk like a shrine. He wears the cologne you once complimented, hoping the familiar scent will carry your presence. His piano becomes his greatest solace; he plays songs that remind him of you, the notes heavy with longing.

When you return and he sees you, it’s as though the weight of millennia slips from his shoulders. His mask of calm falters as he quietly pulls you into his arms, holding you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. He murmurs something like, “You shouldn’t leave me for so long,” but his voice cracks at the end, betraying just how much he missed you. Later, he’ll pour you demonus and ask you to stay with him while he plays for you, his music much softer and warmer now that you’ve returned.

Mams

He gets restless, roaming the halls of the House of Lamentation as though he might find you around the next corner. He tends to talk to your things— your jacket left on his desk chair, your favorite blanket— telling them stories he wishes he could tell you. At night, he holds onto a trinket you gave him, flipping it in his hands like a talisman. His brother’s tease him for constantly staring at his D.D.D., waiting for a text that doesn’t come fast enough.

Mammon’s reaction is immediate and chaotic when you return. He practically trips over himself to get to you, scooping you up in a hug so tight it almost knocks the air out of your lungs. He doesn’t stop talking— apologizing for nothing in particular, asking if you missed him, bragging that he knew you couldn’t stay away for long. Later, when you’re alone, he’ll quietly place your trinket back in your hand and confesses, “I couldn’t let this outta my sight while you were gone.”

Levi

He surrounds himself with distractions, marathoning your favorite shows and games just to feel closer to you. He tries to send you messages about every little thing, but halfway through his typing, he worries he’s being annoying and deletes them. His room becomes a shrine to your shared moments— he keeps a space clear for you on the couch, even though he knows you’re not there. The silence feels heavier without your laughter during cutscenes.

When you return, he’s so overwhelmed that he freezes in place when he sees you, blushing furiously and stammering about how he “didn’t even miss you that much.” But when you sit beside him and grab a controller, he can’t help the grin that breaks across his face. Later, he’ll shyly gift you a little figurine he made while you were gone— a character modeled after you, his way of saying you’re always a hero to him.

Satan

He writes. He fills pages with letters he’ll never send, his thoughts spilling out in poetic lines that ache with longing. He haunts the bookstores and libraries of the Devildom, searching for volumes you might have enjoyed, and carefully sets them aside for you. At night, he reads your favorite book, fingers brushing the margins where your handwriting lingers. He leaves a single fresh flower in your room each morning, a silent reminder of his quiet devotion.

When you return, Satan greets you with perfect composure, though his trembling hands give him away when he places the flower of the day into yours. “You’ve kept me waiting,” he says with a teasing smile, but his eyes are glassy, full of relief. Later, he’ll read to you by the fire, pausing to press his forehead into yours between chapters. You’ll find his letters hidden in your room days later, each one an unspoken promise of how deeply he missed you.

Asmo

His world feels dull without you. He dresses up every day, hoping to catch your attention from afar, even though you’re nowhere near to notice. He talks to the mirror as if it were you, imagining what you’d say about his newest outfit or skincare routine. His D.D.D. becomes his lifeline, full of selfies and voice messages he’s too nervous to send. Every love song feels like it was written for you, and he hums them softly, thinking of you.

When you return, Asmo runs to you in a whirlwind of perfume and tears, wrapping you in the sweetest embrace. “Darling, don’t ever leave me again!” He cries, holding your face in his hands as if to memorize every inch of it. He pulls you into his room to show you all the things he’s been saving to share with you— lipsticks, photos, and little notes he wrote about how much he loves you. That night, he clings to you, whispering over and over how radiant you make his world.

Beel

He finds himself lingering in the kitchen, making your favorite meals and waiting for you to join him. He starts carrying extra snacks that remind him of you, just in case he runs into you somehow. He visits all the places you used to go together, hoping the memories will starve off the hollow feeling in his chest. At night, he leaves an extra plate at the dinner table, unable to bring himself to break the habit of setting a spot for you.

When you return, Beels smile is so wide it feels like sunshine breaking through the clouds. He immediately offers you something to eat, wanting to share every meal he made while you were gone. When he hugs you, it’s gentle but firm, as though he’s grounding himself in the fact that you’re really there. “I made too much food while you were gone,” he admits bashfully, “but now we can eat it together.”

Belphie

His dreams are filled with you, and he sleeps more than usual to chase the feeling of having you near. He steals one of your pillows or blankets, keeping it close so the scent of you lulls him to sleep. On sleepless nights, he stares at the stars, thinking about all the times you’ve stargazed together. He pretends he doesn’t care, but his room feels colder without you, and his naps are restless.

When you return, Belphie’s reaction is subtle but heartfelt. He’ll act nonchalant, lying on the couch with his hat pulled low, but his hand reaches out for yours the moment you’re close. “Took you long enough,” he says with a smirk, tugging you down to lay beside him. He’ll wrap his arms around you like a cocoon, murmuring softly, “Don’t go anywhere this time.” His breathing evens out quickly, finally content with you in his arms again.

[cinnamanz]

# ONLY ON CAMERA — chapter thirty-seven!

when katseye's main dancer daniela avanzini accidentally throws shade at chart-topping singer y/n l/n on an interview, the internet erupts in chaos. with y/n already in hot waters with the press over her latest scandal, both their pr teams scramble for damage control. the solution? a 'picture-perfect' fake relationship to turn the headlines in their favor.

FAM MEETING

standing on the front porch of the katz’s house with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and the other holding oreo up to her side carefully, y/n struggled to ring the doorbell, bumping the button with her shoulder. rocking back and forth on the heels of her sneakers, she nervously gripped the bouquet and glanced down every second at the puppy, using her as an escape from the running thoughts in her head.

the door swings open, revealing daniela in all her beauty and grace, though her eyes immediately locked in on the puppy in y/n's arms, honeyed eyes lighting up like lights on a christmas day, immediately holding her arms out for her fur child and cooing, the members rushing behind her to lay eyes on the dog.

sophia, the leader (y/n did her research), welcomes and ushers the fellow singer inside the house, a small smile on her lips. “it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“ah, yeah. likewise.” y/n hands her the bouquet of flowers meekly, a small chuckle spilling from her lips. “uh, i was originally planning to give them to dani, but it looks like she was more excited to see oreo than me or the flowers.”

sophia muses, eyes crinkling as she chuckles. “thank you. they’re very pretty.” daniela watched the whole exchange silently, the girls fussing at the black and white border collie in her arms.

watching from afar and helping sophia with the dishes, deft fingers placing plates back in the rack came into a halt, eyes unconsciously drifting to y/n and yoonchae in a deep conversation on the couch, while the other girls were too busy chasing the border collie around the house, squealing and giggling.

yoonchae was introverted, that much daniela knew. though it wasn’t because she was scared of people, but her slight insecurity with her english skills and the lack of knowledge of the language kept her from being more talkative with those she wasn't acquainted to. and to see her completely warm up to her— what, fake girlfriend (?), sent flowers blooming and butterflies to erupt in her stomach, a small smile curling at her lips.

“she’s nicer than i thought.” sophia murmured beside her, observing the sight in front of her just like the dancer, a thoughtful hum resounding in her throat. “the girls seemed to really like her. i mean, look at yoonchae. who knew she’d be the most social with y/n out of all of them?” cue the excited screams of the girls towards the puppy.

“she’s a catch.” the filipina added, glancing at daniela who looked mesmerised at the scene unfolding in front of her eyes.

“yeah, she is.”

masterlist 🎸⋆⭒˚.⋆ next

divider by @/strangergraphics-archive.

taglist : @meganskiendielsbtc @rosiehrs @artrizzler19 @goofymickeyr @sunshinez4 @urmom2314 @meizinisnumberone @yeetaberry127 @xochitlisbest @ssamlovr @saysirhc @nyssalvr @ninguitar @kristalag @1luvkarina @idleyuri @kathleenmikaelson @sed7ction @hazel-tanthamore22 @yazzyminny @vrtualstar @meiphobic @cassiespoiler @yjiminswallet @gtfoiydlyj @taikabui @cceanvvaves @c-yerim @waitsobs @firstclassjaylee @bowforgodjihyo @thepurin @chaepu @bandaidss320 @manonsmartini @haerinkisser @esccecvp @blushmimi TAGLIST CLOSED!

[dailyramona]

[jils-things]

COMMISSION BY @beeholyshit WKWKWKWKWKKWKKDKKD BEST DECISION I EVER MADE 😭😭😭😭💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚 WKWKKSKKKKK WHEN I TELL UUU I WON'T SHUT UP ABT NORTO.NS TROUBADOUR SKIN THIS IS THE MANIFESTATION OF IT😭😭💚💚💚💚💚 HES SO GORGEOUS IN GREEN EHEHEHEHHDRDHDHFGHFHD WAAAAAGHGGGHFGH

[ofbatsandballads]

pretty little birds

jason todd x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: suggestive content, reader works at the Iceberg Lounge as a server/dancer/informant for Oz, slight objectification from Oz, reader described as having long hair but no other physical descriptions, slight implication of potential SA (nothing happens, just concern over it)

a/n: been thinking of Jason with a girl who works at the Iceberg Lounge ever since I watched The Batman and saw Selina’s gorgeous self working there. something about her and Bruce’s dynamic was very alluring and I realized how much better it would work with Jason so this was born. might make this a series, might not; who knows? not me! also if you want a nice visual aid for the club, I fully based it off the Gotham Knights version of the lounge.

divider credit: strangergraphics

Jason wasn’t a fan of the Iceberg Lounge. He’d been there plenty of times for missions, for reconnaissance, to beat the shit out of Oswald—it didn’t mean he liked it there. The club was ostentatious, loud and vulgar like everything that went on within it. He always scoffed when he saw it during patrol. An actual iceberg exterior; how corny could Cobblepot get?

He did have to admit that it was nicer inside. The marble floors, balconies, and columns lended an elegance to the place that it didn’t deserve. The neon blues and pinks of the lighting served to disorient, to intoxicate alongside the drinks that were served across the bar and the drugs that were passed behind it. The massive penguin ice sculpture in the center was tacky though. Jason could think of a million better design choices than that.

All this to say that he wasn’t thrilled to be sent to the club per Bruce’s orders of seeing if Oz was still as legit as he claimed. He wasn’t. They all knew it but B needed proof. Jason’s sure by proof Bruce meant that he wanted him to go undercover, but one of the advantages of being Red Hood is that he can go where the other Bats can’t. That distinction is how he finds himself stalking the club from his vantage point in the shadows.

It’s busy tonight. The main floor is crowded with people. Bodies push and pull to the rhythm of the music that blares from the speakers. As tightly crammed as the floor is, the servers still manage to weave through with a practiced grace. They’re all in various states of undress; short skirts, crop tops, some in straight up underwear. Jason recognizes the servers for what Cobblepot intends them to be: a distraction. They’re all young and beautiful—pretty girls and boys that are meant to draw your eye so you don’t see the money and the drugs that pass between their hands.

Jason zeroes in on the two working the floor for any indication of something illegal. Oswald’s been smarter since his last stint in Blackgate. He lets the filth of the city do their deals in his club while he himself is never caught up in it. The argument of “well I didn’t do it” usually wouldn’t hold up legally, but this is Gotham. His eyes track the man first. He’s weaving in and out, laughing with what must be the regulars. He’s charming them, plying them with more and more alcohol to stay longer, to spend more money. He’s not doing anything more than that, though, to Jason’s utmost disappointment. He turns his attention to the girl instead.

The difference between the two of you is so obvious it’s almost amusing. While the guy weaved fluidly through the throng of people like something unseen, the crowd itself seems to part for you. Recognition, some degree of respect, power—that’s what you’ve got over the drunken group of people. He immediately knows that his best bet will be with you. Everything about you echoes the pull you must have in the club. The way you walk, how you smile at the regulars, the drifting of your hands across shoulders and backs and jawlines. It’s even clear in the way you’re dressed. You look like something out of a cabaret show. Pink silk lingerie lined with black lace flowers, black fringe beads that form the idea of a skirt rather than an actual one, and those same beads hanging in alluring arcs across your arms, neck, and chest. You’re dressed up like Penguin’s favorite dream.

You’re also not doing anything illegal. Sure, he’s watched you take money from people, but all you bring back are drinks. He watches for over half an hour, eyes always trailing back to you. Nothing. It’s remarkable how much absolutely nothing he’s seen. His patience is wearing thin. It’s one in the morning and there are better things he could be doing, people he could be helping. But he can’t leave without something for Bruce. He tries to ignore the bile that rises in his throat when he thinks of why he still cares about disappointing him. His eyebrow twitches and he decides suddenly and definitively: fuck it.

So he kicks in Penguin’s office doors.

“Ah, Red Hood. If it ain’t Gotham’s least favorite vigilante,” Oswald mutters past the cigar in his mouth. “Shut the doors behind you, would ya?”

Jason kicks them shut. No one needs to see the bloody mess that Oswald’s going to be in about fifteen minutes.

“Ah ah ah. Before you get any ideas, I would advise you to consider how bad it would be for you to be caught assaulting a reformed citizen of this great city,” Oswald gloats, stubby finger pointing at the camera in the corner.

Fuck. Now Jason has to talk. He hates talking to Cobblepot. It gets you approximately nowhere fast.

“Reformed? We both know you’re full of shit, Oz,” Red Hood taunts.

“I’m on the straight and narrow. Scout’s honor,” Penguin laughs, coughing through the harsh inhale he took of his cigar.

Nowhere. Fast.

“You’re bringing in too much money for that to be true. Your parties aren’t that good, Cobblepot.”

“Eh, you haven’t seen my toys. Most of ‘em come for the pretty little things I keep around.”

“So you’re pimping them out? You see that I can work with,” Hood retorts.

It would make sense, Oz getting his servers into sex work. It’s not the worst thing he could do if they were all willing. And if they weren’t? Well, that gives Jason a nice excuse to finally put a bullet through The Penguin.

“You don’t listen too well, do you? I’m a changed man. People can look at my dolls, but they can’t touch. Everyone loves eye candy,” Oswald says.

The doors open just as Jason considers pulling a gun on Oswald, cameras recording him or not.

“And there’s my favorite. What do ya need, doll?”

Jason watches you saunter in. You move with an almost feline gracefulness. His eyes clock the sway of your hips and the way you toss your hair over your shoulder. Then he watches the way Cobblepot’s pupils dilate as his eyes lock on you. You plant your hands on the desk, bend over as you smile saccharine at the old man sitting behind it. Oh, you’re good. Very good.

“Nothing much. Just that DA wanting his usual,” you say.

Oswald’s eyes rake lecherously over your body. He looks at you like he wants to put you in one of the glass cases that decorate his office. It makes Jason’s stomach turn. Then he pulls a key out from a locked drawer and drops it into your open palm. Now that piques his interest.

“Thanks, Oz,” you say sweetly.

As you straighten up and spin around to leave, Penguin grabs your wrist and yanks you back. He leaves one kiss on the inside of your wrist and that pretty facade cracks. It’s only for a second, so quick that Oswald doesn’t see it. Jason does. Disgust. Pure disgust flashes across your face before it’s replaced by an alluring smile. Your eyes spark with something Jason can’t quite read.

“Mind if I get some too, Ozzie? You know how much I like it,” you ask as you play with the beads that dangle on your chest.

“Sure, doll. Take whatever you want,” Oswald acquiesces.

Your face lights up and you look almost victorious. Then you spin around and head towards the doors. To this point you haven’t acknowledged him, the known vigilante, at all. But just before you leave, you pause right next to him. Jason tries not to flinch as your hand runs up his arm.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your night here. Next time, feel free to ask for anything you want. Wouldn’t want Oz’s guests to get bored,” you purr.

Your eyes lock with the white lenses of his domino mask and Jason feels the air leave his lungs. You’d seen him. You knew he was there the whole fucking time. And you hadn’t told anyone. If you had, Cobblepot would’ve sent security in guns blazing.

“Have a good night, honey,” you tell him as you waltz out the door.

“See, Hood? Eye candy,” Oz hacks.

Jason follows you. What else was he supposed to do? Oswald gave him nothing. But you? You gave him what felt suspiciously like a lead. Ask for anything you want, you’d said. What else could you think he wanted but proof of Oswald’s lingering corruption? So he follows you. He’s careful this time. Quiet, precise steps that give no indication he’s near. It’s times like these he’s grateful for all the stealth training Bruce made him do as a kid.

He trails behind as you head downstairs. You weave through the maze of corridors until you come to a mahogany door, elaborately carved with floral emblems. It’s got an old brass lock on it that you slot the key into. Jason waits one beat, two, three—then goes through the door where you disappeared.

He finds you inside, crouching in front of an open safe. A rainbow of jewels glitter within. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds—there had to be enough jewelry in there to cover the cost of a couple of Bruce’s tricked out sports cars. You pull a more modest sapphire necklace from the safe and place it into one of the grab bags that guests can take home at the end of the night. So that’s what the DA wanted. You grab a far more ostentatious diamond bracelet and slip it into your bra.

“Think it’s a good idea to steal from your boss?”

You jump. Jason doesn’t want to admit how satisfied he is by that. He was a little worried that he’d lost his touch. You twirl around, eyes locked on the vigilante leaning against the closed door.

“Hmm…when I’ve got him wrapped around my finger? Why not?” you smirk.

You’re brave. He’ll give you that.

“Must really be putting on a show for him if you’re not worried,” he presses.

Your smile drops and your eye twitches in annoyance. He’s hit a nerve. Good.

“A show. That’s all it is. If he’s stupid enough to think it’ll be more than that, that’s his problem,” you bite, tone dripping venom instead of honey.

“Not scared he’ll realize the trick? Or what he’ll do when he does?” Red Hood asks as he fiddles with a knife he keeps in his belt.

He asks with sincerity. It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. You could end up dead. Or worse. Jason’s no stranger to people taking what they want by force, and Oz clearly wants you.

“Oswald’s a coward,” you reply harshly. “He only fucks with people weaker than him. So no, I’m not scared of toying with him. He won’t do a goddamn thing to me.”

Jason cocks his head, sizing you up. A pretty girl in lingerie working in a club thinks she’s stronger than a crime lord. Well, you’re probably not wrong.

“You’re not weak?” he asks mockingly.

But it’s still fun to test your resolve. To your credit and Jason’s surprise, you just grin. A breathy laugh falls from your red lips and Jason can’t help the way his eyes flicker down to look at the curve of them.

“I got this without so much as a fight, didn’t I?” you gloat, grabbing the diamond bracelet and swinging it around your middle finger.

“He let you.”

“Precisely. What exactly are you missing here? He let me. Because he’s a fool. And to let me take this bracelet specifically? Well, he’s just about the village idiot,” you laugh.

Jason sees the bait. His stubbornness almost makes him want to not ask just to spite you. But it’s just too intriguing.

“What’s so special about that bracelet?”

You smile wryly. Jason’s reflexes are the only reason he catches the bracelet as you toss it to him from across the room.

“Oh, I think you’re smart enough to figure that one out yourself, baby,” you purr. “Now get the fuck out.”

Jason does as he’s told. He returns to the cave with no intel beyond a locked room with a safe full of jewels and a diamond bracelet. Imagine his shock when Bruce analyzes the serial markings of the bracelet and finds that it was part of a collection that got robbed from a boutique in the Diamond District. It had been months and they hadn’t found a single piece of jewelry from the robbery. There were no leads on who did it or how. And now one of the most expensive pieces is sitting on the Batcomputer. Jason can guess where the rest are.

“Who gave you this?” Bruce asks skeptically.

Always doubt with the old man.

“A friend. Maybe,” Jason ponders.

Bruce rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Jason grins at how exhausted all his kids make him. It’s a point of pride among them: who can stress out B the most?

“You should figure that out,” Bruce scolds.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

Jason’s suddenly got a very vested interest in the Iceberg Lounge, and he’s going to satiate that curiosity if it kills him again.

[archivequinn]

Merry Christmas, Eddie! (fem!reader x eddie munson)

Summary: Eddie comes to meet your family for Christmas but he thinks it didn't go very well, and you're sitting at the table with your family and you're teasing Eddie with your foot under the table. 🎄

Words: 4,170

ao3 link dividers by @strangergraphics

You’re waiting at the door with excitement. The mouthwatering aroma of golden roasted turkey wafts through the air. The cinnamon scent of your grandmother’s pumpkin pie has completely taken over the kitchen. Everything feels so warm and perfect, like a scene straight out of a Christmas movie. Yet, your heart flutters because Eddie is coming. This Christmas will be different—your boyfriend Eddie is meeting your family.

The doorbell rings. Your heart skips a beat, and you try to steady your excitement. Taking a deep breath, you open the door. And there he is; Eddie, his cheeks faintly flushed from the falling snow, standing there with a big bouquet of flowers and a shy smile. He’s wearing his leather jacket, but the red plaid shirt underneath gives him a festive touch. His hair is slightly messy, as usual, but the way he holds the flowers makes the whole look irresistibly sweet, and you can’t help but smile.

“Hey,” he says in a slightly bashful voice. His eyes meet yours for a moment before darting to the bouquet in his hands. “I brought these for your mom…” At that moment, you notice his cheeks turning even redder. Eddie’s shy demeanor warms your heart. “Eddie, that’s wonderful! Come in, you must be freezing out there,” you say, grabbing his arm and pulling him inside. As he steps in, he pauses for a moment to take a deep breath. The soft golden glow of the Christmas lights illuminates the living room, and the presents under the decorated tree look like something out of a postcard. But Eddie is only looking at you.

“This place is really... beautiful,” he says, his eyes filled with gratitude. He takes off his leather jacket and hands it to you.

You guide Eddie to the living room. As he walks slowly, you notice his shoulders are slightly tense. He’s gripping the bouquet tightly, as if afraid that one wrong move might ruin everything. The warmth of the room and the sweet smells from the kitchen seem to ease him a bit, but you can still see the nervousness on his face.

But this is Eddie—sweet, genuine Eddie. You’re sure everyone will love him instantly, though your heart continues to flutter with anticipation.

“Mom, Dad, Eddie’s here!” you call out a little louder than usual. Even though you try to control your voice, your excitement seeps through. Your mom immediately steps out of the kitchen, wearing her usual welcoming smile. Your dad gets up from his seat and walks toward Eddie. Your grandmother glances over her glasses at Eddie, offering a slight smile of approval.

Eddie takes a deep breath, clearly nervous, and holds out the bouquet. “These are for you, ma’am,” he says. His voice carries its usual soft tone, but you catch a slight tremor in it. Your mom’s eyes light up as she looks at the flowers. “Eddie, that’s so thoughtful! Thank you, they’re absolutely lovely,” she says, taking the bouquet and heading to the kitchen to place them in a vase.

“Hi, Mr.—uh, sir,” Eddie stammers, extending his hand to your dad.

“Hello, Eddie. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Finally, you turn towards your grandmother. Eddie leans in gently and greets her, while your grandmother looks at him with that sweet, wise smile. “So this is the handsome young man who makes you smile so much, huh?” she says, turning to you. Eddie’s cheeks instantly flush bright red, but your grandmother’s warm demeanor melts his nervousness.

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” he says, extending his hand to your grandmother. As you watch this scene from the corner, your thoughts fluctuate between Eddie's sweet nervousness and your family's warm reception of him. You're excited, a little anxious, but seeing Eddie’s efforts warms your heart. Deep down, you think, Everything is going to be okay. Eddie is amazing, and my family will see that.

Eddie comes over to you and whispers, “Not a bad start, right?” There’s still a trace of nervousness in his eyes.

But you smile and say, “You were amazing.” Gently squeezing his hand, you add, “This is your home now, too.”

As you sit down at the dining table, the candles in the center glow softly, their light blending with the red-and-gold ornaments adorning the Christmas tree. With the faint sound of soft music in the background, you all begin to enjoy dinner together. But even this sweet atmosphere doesn’t completely erase the tension on Eddie’s face. He hides his hands under the table, his fingers almost clasped together.

Your mother’s first question breaks the peaceful moment. “Eddie, where do you live, dear?” Her voice is kind but carries a natural curiosity. 

Eddie lowers his head slightly, as if concealing something. He takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair. “I live with my uncle,” he says. You can hear the nervousness in his voice. “In a trailer park.”

His words hang in the air for a moment. The faint clink of your father setting his wine glass on the table is the only sound breaking the silence in the room. Your grandmother, however, avoids delving deeper into the topic and offers Eddie a sweet smile. “A trailer, huh? Sounds quite adventurous compared to the dullness of city apartments,” she says.

But then your father asks the next question. “And what about work? What do you do for a living, Eddie?” At this, Eddie’s shoulders tense again. 

He places his hands on his knees and briefly lowers his gaze. “I’m working as a bartender right now,” he says, his voice softening. Then, hurriedly, he adds, “But I also help my uncle sometimes. He’s a car mechanic. So, when there’s work… I help him out.”

As he pieces his words together, you notice the hesitation and a hint of defensiveness in his tone. His eyes quickly scan the faces around the table, gauging how your family is receiving his answers.

Your mother listens thoughtfully to what Eddie says, but your father frowns slightly, taking another sip of his wine. 

Just when you think he’s about to say something, your grandmother speaks again, continuing to smile warmly at Eddie. “Working is always good for a young man,” she says, as if trying to reassure him.

Eddie nods slightly as if feeling a bit more at ease, but you notice that he’s still hiding his hands under the table. It’s as though he feels like he hasn’t done enough. Just then, your mother brings up the most delicate topic: “So, Eddie, do you have any plans for college? You know, our daughter is starting university this year. That’s a whole new excitement in itself.”

This question casts a slight shadow over Eddie’s face. He hesitates for a moment, as if he’d give anything to avoid answering. His eyes shift to you, but there’s a trace of embarrassment in his gaze. Finally, he takes a deep breath and begins to speak.

“Well… I didn’t go to college. Actually…” He shrugs with a faint smile, but it leaves a bittersweet impression. “Even graduating high school was a big achievement for me. I mean… I did think about college, but…” He pauses, clearing his throat for a moment. “Our financial situation didn’t really allow it. And… to be honest, I wasn’t even sure what I wanted.” His eyes drift back to the table, but this time his voice comes out with more resolve: “But I love what I do. I manage to get by somehow. And… I think I’m happy enough for now.”

After these words, there’s a brief moment of silence in the room. You can see in Eddie’s eyes just how small he feels while explaining his work and his life.

At that moment, your grandmother steps in, surprising everyone with a hearty laugh. “I didn’t go to college either, Eddie. Life finds its meaning no matter which path you take in the end. It’s clear that you’ve carved your own way, and not everyone can do that.” She winks at Eddie.

Eddie gives you a quick glance, gratitude evident in his eyes. You find his hand under the table and squeeze it gently, letting your fingers trace softly around his palm. This small but powerful gesture needs no words. It’s as if you’re saying, I’m here, you’re not alone.

Sensing Eddie’s nervousness, your grandmother tries to change the subject. “So, Eddie, do you like Christmas?” she asks, adding a light, joking tone to her voice. “It’s one of the best times for us because we all get to be together. Everyone sees Christmas differently; I’m curious about your take on it.”

Eddie seems a bit more at ease with your grandmother’s gentle question. “Yes, I do like Christmas,” he says with a slight smile. “I mean, we don’t usually have big celebrations, but being somewhere like this this year… well, it feels really special.”

Your grandmother nods. “That feeling is what matters,” she says. “Life isn’t always about the big things; it’s about appreciating the little moments.” Eddie nods softly in agreement with her words.

But your father… your father doesn’t hesitate to break the sweet moment. He takes a sip of his wine, setting the glass down as he throws his question into the air. “Eddie, do you have a plan for moving forward in life? I mean, are you just planning to stick with bartending, or is there something else you’re aiming for?”

This question makes Eddie feel cornered again. As he tries to clasp his hands together under the table, you gently run your fingers around his palm again, trying to support him. But when Eddie begins to speak, his voice trembles slightly.

“For now, I love what I do,” he says, hesitantly. “But of course, I want to see what else I can do in the future. Maybe work at a bigger bar, or… maybe something else. I don’t really know yet, but I’m doing the best I can for now.”

“Life doesn’t move forward by just living in the moment, Eddie,” your father says, his tone carrying a hint of sternness. “If you don’t have a plan, you’ll always end up staying in the same place. Especially… if you’re in a relationship.” His eyes shift to you for a moment, and you can feel the discomfort his indirect remark causes within you.

The table has been cleared, the plates put away, but the scent of the meal still lingers in the air. Your grandmother has fallen asleep in the armchair next to the Christmas tree, her blanket gently rising and falling with her soft breaths. Your father is in the bathroom washing his hands, and apart from the faint clinking sounds your mother makes in the kitchen while tending to the desserts, the house is quiet. A Christmas song still plays softly in the background.

You and Eddie are sitting across from each other at the table. Eddie is leaning slightly forward, elbows on the table, and gently massaging his forehead with his fingers. Without lifting his eyes to you, he whispers, “Tonight was terrible,” his voice low and fragile. You notice the deep crease between his brows. “Your dad… he didn’t like me, did he?”

His words seem to drop the room’s warmth by a few degrees. It bothers you to see him feeling this way. You place a hand on his arm, your fingers lightly grasping the fabric of his shirt. “Eddie, no,” you whisper back. “Don’t think like that. He’s just… a difficult man. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you.”

Eddie tilts his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. But his gaze quickly drops back to the table’s surface, as if he’s not entirely convinced by what you said. “Come on,” he says, with a bittersweet smile. “He interrogated me all night. I know he secretly looked down on me for living in a trailer park and working as a bartender. When he thinks about us being together… he probably thinks I’m not good enough for you.”

There’s a vulnerability in Eddie’s voice; seeing this softer side beneath his usual tough and carefree demeanor makes your heart ache. You tilt your head slightly and take his hand, squeezing his fingers gently. “Eddie, you’re not beneath anyone,” you say firmly. “Neither my dad nor anyone else can change that. You’re the one who makes me happy no matter what. That’s the only thing that matters.”

Eddie presses his lips together and nods, but his face still doesn’t fully reflect reassurance. His eyes wander to the Christmas tree, where the glowing ornaments reflect light into his pupils. “I just… I just wanted tonight to go well,” he says, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “Your grandma is amazing. Your mom is so kind… But your dad… I feel like I’ll never get along with him.”

This isn’t the first time you’ve had to remind him that you’re by his side. You do so again now, continuing to hold his hands as you smile softly. “Stop worrying about it. You’re here tonight, and that means everything to me. And you know what? My dad might take some time to realize how amazing you are. But he will realize it in the end.”

A small smile appears on Eddie’s face. “I hope you’re right,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Because… because I love you so much. And… I don’t want things to be bad between me and your family.”

You lean in slightly and whisper softly, “I love you too, Eddie.” When you squeeze his fingers, he gently squeezes back. Maybe tonight isn’t perfect, but you’re here with him. And for him, that’s reason enough.

You can clearly see the worry and hesitation in his eyes. In that moment, everything feels frozen in time—the warm light in the room, the serenity emanating from the Christmas tree, the faint sound of Christmas music, and the silence in which you can almost feel Eddie’s heartbeat.

You lean forward and press a light kiss to his lips. Eddie’s eyes widen in surprise immediately. “Someone will see,” he whispers, his voice filled with panic, but he makes no move to push you away. You bite your lip and give him a sweet smile. “Then we better be quick,” you say with a playful tone.

Eddie’s face flushes red, but you lean in again, this time letting the kiss linger a little longer. As your lips press gently against his, Eddie’s hesitant touch gradually softens. His fingers shift slightly in your palm, as if he doesn’t want to let you go.

“Really?” he mutters in between, his voice slightly shaky but unable to stop himself from smiling. His face is so sweetly flushed that it’s almost impossible not to kiss him again. Eddie, almost unconsciously, leans closer to you, though his eyes keep darting toward your grandmother’s armchair or the kitchen doorway. “Someone could walk in at any moment,” he warns, but as he says it, he pulls you closer.

“And that’s a risk I’m willing to take,” you reply, teasingly. You deepen the kiss, and Eddie’s cautious demeanor slowly gives way to a relaxed surrender. He releases your hands and places them on your shoulders, though there’s still a hint of shyness in his touch.

Just then, a noise in the background catches both of your attention. You pull apart abruptly, panicking as though you’ve been caught red-handed. Eddie’s face turns bright red, and he runs a hand through his hair. “I… uh… it’s a bit warm in here, isn’t it?” he mumbles, his voice tinged with a faint laugh.

Your mother peeks her head out from the kitchen doorway. “The desserts are almost ready. Eddie, do you like pie?” she asks. Eddie quickly collects himself and replies, “Of course, I do,” though only you can detect the slight tremble in his voice.

When your mother disappears back into the kitchen, Eddie turns to you and lets out a deep breath. “If you do that again, I might have a heart attack,” he says, but the glint in his eyes and the faint smile on his face make you think the risk was worth it. And you had so much fun with it that you decided to keep pushing his limits and making the night a little more exciting.

As your mother places a large slice of pie topped with cream in front of Eddie, she smiles and says, “I hope you like pumpkin pie, Eddie.” Eddie nods politely and thanks her, his eyes fixed on the dessert in front of him.

Everyone at the table starts eating their desserts. You notice that Eddie still seems a little uneasy, and that tiny mischievous urge inside you kicks in. Suddenly, you stretch your foot under the table and touch his leg. Eddie freezes mid-bite, the fork hovering in front of his mouth. He raises his eyebrows slightly and glances at you, trying to stay composed.

You slowly move your foot upward, the fabric of his pants brushing against your toes. The veins on Eddie’s neck become faintly visible.

Just then, Eddie suddenly starts coughing. He puts down his fork and reaches for his water glass, hastily taking a few sips. “Oh, Eddie, are you okay?” your mother asks with concern.

Your father, meanwhile, furrows his brow and looks at Eddie carefully, as if trying to figure out what’s going on. Eddie waves a hand while drinking his water, signaling that he’s fine, but the slight flush on his face betrays him.

At that moment, you move your foot a little higher, lightly touching his thigh. Eddie’s eyes widen dramatically, and he reflexively bumps his knee against the table.

The sound echoes through the room, and everyone pauses for a moment. Your parents both stare at Eddie in surprise.

“Oh, uh… uh…” Eddie stammers, scratching his neck nervously as he scrambles to come up with an explanation. He shoots you a quick glance, frowning slightly while also pursing his lips. His voice quivers a little as he speaks. “I think… uh, I got a cramp in my foot,” he says hastily, though his tone isn’t very convincing.

Your father raises an eyebrow and leans slightly toward Eddie. “A cramp?” he asks. Eddie looks even more cornered.

Eddie quickly nods. “I’m fine now.” He sneaks another glance at you, his eyes carrying a silent warning. But you can see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The fact that he can’t take you too seriously and his nervous reaction only amuse you further.

Your mother seems to accept Eddie’s explanation with a shrug, but your father continues to scrutinize him, as if not fully buying the excuse. Noticing your father’s gaze, Eddie picks up his water glass again and takes another small sip.

When Eddie notices the touch on his leg continuing, a clear panic flashes in his eyes. As your foot slowly moves up from his knee under the table, Eddie seems to lose his breath. He grips his fork a little tighter, as if trying to focus all his attention on the dessert. But he fails, because you keep testing his limits.

Just then, your mother turns to Eddie with a sweet smile. “Eddie, do you like pie?” she asks. Eddie’s face turns crimson, as though it’s on fire, but he tries to compose himself, nodding quickly. “Yes, yes! It’s great. Uh, I mean, delicious,” he murmurs, though his voice cracks a little.

He glances at you quickly, his warm brown eyes almost pleading silently for you to stop. But, of course, you don’t. As your foot grazes his thigh, you innocently take another bite of your dessert, chewing calmly.

At that moment, your father cuts in. “Do you have your own car?” he asks, his tone carrying the usual interrogative edge. Eddie’s mouth opens, but he struggles to answer. As your foot slowly moves higher along the fabric of his pants, Eddie stares into the distance for a moment, seemingly unable to gather his words.

“Uh… uh… My car? I’ve got an old van. And a motorcycle,” he stammers, his voice breaking even more. He shoots you another glance, his eyes now clearly screaming, “You’re killing me.” But you’re still enjoying yourself, looking at him with a faint smile as your foot inches higher.

Your mother doesn’t seem entirely satisfied with his answer but still offers him a kind smile. “A motorcycle, huh? I hope you wear a helmet. There are so many bad drivers in this town,” she says. Eddie is about to respond when your foot lightly brushes the top of his thigh. At that moment, his hand trembles briefly, and his fork clatters onto the table. Clink!

“Oh, uh, sorry! Excuse me,” Eddie says hastily, leaning down to pick up the fork. But the look on his face clearly shows he’s reaching his limit. When he looks back at you, his lips are tightly pursed, and his eyes seem to scold you silently. Yet the sweet blush on his cheeks and the barely suppressed smile make the situation even funnier.

Your father raises an eyebrow, looking at Eddie. “Everything okay, Eddie? You seem a bit tense.” Eddie nods quickly, but his voice is still shaky. “No, no! I’m fine, perfectly fine!” he insists.

As your parents fall silent for a moment and look at Eddie, you continue eating your dessert innocently. Eddie takes a deep breath and discreetly reaches under the table, trying to nudge your foot away. But you’re having too much fun to give up so easily. Eddie’s eyes widen once more, as if to say, What are you doing?, but your father interrupts again with another question.

“So, Eddie, what’s it like living in a caravan? Comfortable?” your father asks. Eddie looks even more cornered. “Oh, yes, yes… Very comfortable!” he says, but his voice is so high-pitched that no one seems to take him seriously.

Just then, as your foot slides a little higher, Eddie’s knee hits the table again. A loud bam! echoes, and everyone’s eyes turn back to Eddie.

“Ah! Uh… uh… uh…” Eddie waves his hands, desperately trying to come up with something. “This time, I really did get a cramp in my foot! It happens to me all the time, you know? I think it’s the weather… Yes, yes… The weather change.”

While he panics and glances at you, your mother and father exchange puzzled looks but don’t question him further.

Eddie lets out a nervous chuckle, murmuring, "I need some air. I think I ate too much dessert." He quickly leaves the table and steps outside.

You follow him and find him on the porch, staring up at the night sky. A smile forms on your face and you say, "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. But your reactions were so funny!"

Eddie turns to you, his eyes shining with love and appreciation. "I know, it was hilarious," he says, laughing. "But you should have seen your dad's look! I almost had a heart attack."

You both laugh and stand in silence for a moment, simply enjoying each other's presence. Then Eddie takes your hand and says, "I was really worried. I thought your father didn't approve of me."

You squeeze his hand and say, "I know, my love. But that's just how my dad is. He's wary of everyone, especially those close to me."

"But do you think he will come to like me?" Eddie asks, his voice still laced with uncertainty.

"Of course, he will," you reply confidently. "You just have to give him some time. He'll see, just like I did, how wonderful you are."

Eddie smiles and pulls you close. "I hope you're right," he says and kisses you gently. "Because I want a future with you, and that future includes your family."

As you kiss, you hear a cough behind you. Turning around, you see your father standing on the porch. His face is serious, but you can also sense a softness in his eyes.

"Eddie," your father says. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Eddie tenses up, but you hold his hand tightly. "Sure, sir," Eddie says and follows your father into the house.

You wait anxiously for a while. Then your father and Eddie return to the porch. Both have smiles on their faces. Your father approaches you and says, "You were right. Eddie is a good kid. I'm looking forward to getting to know him better."

Eddie's face lights up and he hugs you. "See, I told you everything would be alright," he whispers in your ear.

That night, you say goodbye to your family and return home with Eddie. As you drive, you hold Eddie's hand and feel a sense of peace in your heart. You know everything is going to be alright. You love Eddie, and your family will come to love him too. And that's enough for a happy ending.

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