#and they can say it all they want they can say they wouldn’t miss each other if they left but they still go looking for each other

[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝓖𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝓑𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝓑𝒐𝒚. WRIOTHESLEY ₊ ˙ ⊹ .

ৎ୭ — · · 1.4k ノ gn reader — sweet intimate celebration of his birthday. subtle flirting (a failed attempt at doing so). established relationship. comforting fluff with hugs and giggles <3

The atmosphere in the Duke’s office is rather light-hearted and joyful, unlike the usual stern reputation of the Fortress. The steady hum of machinery beyond the thick walls buzzes along with the quiet crackle of a small, ornate heater placed in the corner — a luxury in the underwater prison.

The tea table is neatly set, the gleaming silver teapot releasing curling wisps of steam into the air, mingling with the earthy, spiced aroma of Chenyu Adeptea — a new blend being a part of your gift. Though muted in tone, you two celebrate this day with the gentle clink of porcelain teacups and muffled laughter. The sharp tang of the sea breeze and metallic rust replaced with a delicate sweetness that hints at the rare delight.

“Mittens, huh?”

It’s the low timbre of Wriothesley’s voice that breaks temporary silence, testing out the lovely other part of your gift, fingers examining the texture. He takes his time making sure they fit snugly, the pair of fine-woven mittens. Albeit he couldn’t care less about how they look.

“Well, it’s cold here in the Fortress, and the humidity makes it unbearable sometimes…”

“I will make great punches in these.” He says with a note of chuckle at the end, all while testing his grip in the fluffy covers on his hands. “Look at them, my new gloves to punish lawbreakers!”

The very image of Wriothesley imitating boxing punches with the fists wrapped in the softest of fabrics makes you giggle loud. Loud and clear, a sound he adores so much when it reverberates from the stone walls and metal pipes like delicate chimes in the wind. The sound he misses every single minute when you have to return above the sea waves.

His place has never felt this warm before, with the candles flickering on the curved desk, the tea table heavy from the gifts from the staff, and — last but not least — his heart is about to melt, a glowing cauldron of fondness for you. You are simply there, smiling back at him, raising the teacup in a silent toast for his birthday.

For someone who took this post in selfless service to the people and their safety, the fact that they all care so much — but none as much as you — makes him want to serve them twice as much. Maybe working in the Fortress, in this new home of his, isn’t that bad after all. No, not in the slightest. No worse than if he were to restart his entire life on the surface, in the society he doesn’t remember from his early years.

“Do you like them?”

You seem to notice the pause, the thoughtful gaze he shoots at the pair of mittens on his knuckles.

“A lot.” He responds softly, rubbing his thumb against the soft fabric. “They will serve me well.”

Butterflies dance in your stomach with each passing moment of admiring the way his hands seem so much more gentle than they appear to be, the touch not as hard and coarse as he puts it across. Though there is a hint of sadness, a lingering melancholy at the thought of how the roughness of his fingertips was created, the callouses on his palms a result of years and years of fighting.

“I’m happy you like them.” You say, leaning forward. “I was worried it wouldn’t be enough.”

“Enough?!” Wriothesley raises an eyebrow under the tuft of his cobalt bangs, perplexed. “Never in a thousand years could I ever deserve what you give me!” He holds his mitten-wrapped hands up just to make a point. “These? These are cute! I have never received fluffy gloves from anyone before. Not even once. This is so fun! You are the sweetest for coming up with this idea!”

The tenderness of his voice, almost desperate to show how much it all means to him — it’s silly, hilarious even that a small gift can make such a difference — the fondness pouring from his eyes, like he’s pouring liquid honey over your soul. You find yourself moving closer, drawn to him, craving his closeness. Craving to wrap your arms around his waist and find the steady thumping of his heart amidst all other background noises.

“Should we get you a pair for every winter month, then?” You joke, shyly leaning against him, carefully observing his reaction. “Who would’ve thought that the Duke of Meropide is such a sweetheart, hm? A good boy under those scary looks, all giddy over a colourful yarn.”

Wriothesley doesn’t answer at first, fighting off a boisterous laugh. His mind is racing in several different directions, struggling to form coherent thoughts under your touch. He sighs, gently enveloping you into his embrace and letting himself indulge in this feeling just for a little while longer. It is not enough to have these small moments when you visit him here, but he gladly accepts anything you offer him, secretly hoping there’s a chance you will stay with him longer this time.

Anything, a glimmer of hope.

And now you are saying all these sweet things…

“Why would you want to get me more when I can have you wrapped in my arms every winter?” He asks in the same tone you used earlier, with a barely audible chuckle at the end of the sentence. “You’re much warmer, you know.”

“Ah, you and your flirting out of nowhere! Just when I’m least prepared.” You shake your head, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips to shake off the fire running to your face at his comment.

“Are you embarrassed now?” He smiles softly, his eyes glinting mischievously in the candlelight.

“No!” You pout, unwilling to admit how you do melt a little under his gaze. “I can flirt back too, if you wish.”

“Please.” He begs, chuckling as he says that. “Entertain me with your wits.”

He seems amused by this idea. Not in a teasing way, but rather playful, genuinely interested in what you are about to say. And so you give it a try, breathing in slowly to think of something… well, witty. Or at least funny enough to make him smile.

Obviously, as if asked to show your skills on request, your head is empty. This is embarrassing, not funny at all. But you cannot let him see that, trying to appear cool and nonchalant about it.

“Well, perhaps you’re right—” you begin, “you may have those fluffy mittens on your hands, but you will still need someone to warm up your heart.”

“I think I may be infected with a cold by now,” he replies, barely holding it together as he leans in for a bear hug, the entire lump of his large self covering you in hearty embrace. “I might need some extra cuddles.”

You squirm in his hold, pretending to struggle as if your plan is to run away — yet he knows well enough that it’s a playful ruse to get more affection out of him. He snuggles against your cheek, gently rubbing his nose against your skin. There is so much he wants to say, so many things that swirl in his head, and yet no words are uttered. He feels content to enjoy this moment with you.

No interruptions, no reminders that you have to return to the surface soon.

When Wriothesley lets go of you, his eyes fixate on the lines of your face, and your lips curl into a warm smile. His hands cup your cheeks gently, not wanting to ever let go. Your skin is soft under his touch, warm against the wool of the fluffy mittens. He traces the curves of your face with the gentleness of someone who is seeing you for the first time, every minute detail captured and studied. Every subtle feature — the glint in your eyes, the slight twitch of your mouth as you bite back a grin — he’s committing it all to memory.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathes out, his words hanging in the air between you like a thin thread of golden light. “I—”

“I love you more.” You interrupt him, stealing the kiss that was on the tip of his tongue, along with the confession.

Wriothesley lets out a pleased sound, almost like a low purr. The soft blush creeping onto his cheeks makes his face seem softer, somehow less threatening. The Duke of Meropide no longer towers over you like a mountain, but he is the most tender of the men. And you couldn’t have fallen in love with anyone else.

No, only with him.

“Happy birthday, Wriothesley.”

[meracyn]

heyyy could u write a one shot of kwon x reader where they weren't able to see each other for months (reader travelled to a different country and he had to go to the tournament) but reader finally had the chance to go to the sekai taikai and surprises him? maybe suggestive ;) But fluff is ok too, thank youn!

UNSPOKEN DESIRES || kwon jae-sung

a/n: LMAOOO SNEAKY ANON but yk what ill do it (hes too fine). crazy how i wrote the bf hcs of him yesterday and now i got 3 reqs lmao, not complaining tho. also i want to find good icons to put on my kwon reqs but I CANT CHOOSE,,

warnings; SUGGESTIVE, cursing (only like..once), uhh thats all i think

Kwon stood up along with the rest of the Cobra Kai members, barely paying attention to the announcements being said at the moment— too deep in thought— thoughts of you.

The past few months were hard. Not just for him, for you too. You had to travel to another country for a while due to a family emergency regarding a very ill relative. Although you both facetimed and texted everyday, the distance was still there. It wasn’t the same.

The Sekai Taikai was able to get Kwon to focus on the tournament, but even so it wasn’t enough. His mind kept drifting off to you. He never thought your absence would affect him that much, but ever since you told him you had to stay there longer, he felt the ache in his chest deepen with each passing day. He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, but he missed you. A lot.

As everyone was allowed to leave, Kwon let out a sigh, head tilted a bit low as he walked with the rest of his dojo. What was up with him? He won every match he had, why did it not fuel him up with satisfaction anymore? Even messing around with other dojos wasn’t becoming as fun. It frustrated him.

“Hey, wanna go with us to a bar nearby later?” Yoon went up to him, slightly nudging his shoulder with his elbow.

Kwon snapped out of his thoughts, and stopped walking. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea, he could forget about the emptiness in his heart. “..Sure, why not. I could use some distraction.” He replied. Without saying anything else, he walked away.

· · ·

You let out a sigh of relief after managing to get inside the building where the tournament was being held. You may or may not have lied your way in by saying you were one of Cobra Kai’s backups and Sensei Kim requested you come here as an emergency.

Those at the desk were a bit skeptical, but thankfully didn’t question any further and let you pass.

You walked past the big hallways, trying to think where the rooms were, thinking he was probably resting. You couldn’t wait to see him again— his eyes, his hair, that stupid yet charming smirk he had on his face.

Suddenly, you passed by a teenage guy scrolling through his phone. Maybe he knew Kwon, it was worth asking.

“Uh..excuse me,” You started, a bit nervous as you walked up to him. “Do you know the room number Kwon Jae-Sung is staying in?”

Demetri looked up, an eyebrow raised at the..random question. Out of all the questions you could have asked, this one didn’t cross his mind. He glanced around the room, noticing how it was only you and him. “I don’t think..I can give out that information.” He replied.

“Oh, no. It’s not like that—” You said quickly. “I’m his partner. I wanted to see if he’s okay.”

“Partner?” Demetri repeated. “As in, sparring partner? Then you should kn—”

“No!” You exclaimed, interrupting him. You cleared your throat before continuing, “I meant..I’m his partner..romantically.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Demetri said, before nodding slightly. He leaned in to whisper the room number, then sat back down. “I’m sure he’s doing very fine.. but that’s the number.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Relief washed over you, as you quickly left, going to the elevators.

Demetri watched as you left, before his eyes widened. “Wait. What if they’re not his partner?”

· · ·

Kwon got out of the elevator, laughing along with his team members who were all drunk and held onto each other for support.

Being at the bar did help him be distracted for a while, drinking along while the rest were doing bets on who could drink the most without getting drunk at all.

“Hey, why don’t we go out again for some more fun? It isn’t too late,” One of them suggested.

“Not a bad idea. Let’s go,— Kwon, you comin’?”

“Nah, I’m good. You guys go ahead.” He said. The others left, leaving him alone.

He opened the door to his room, shutting it behind him and turned on the lock. Walking over to his bed, he began to take off his shirt and draped a towel around his waist. Just as he was going to enter the shower, a finger tapped on his shoulder.

As he turned around, he was taken by surprise.

You were standing there, with a mischievous smile.

How did you get in his room? Was he dreaming? Was he too tired after training? Did he drink too much? Did he—

“I got you~!” You said with a chuckle.

He couldn’t feel his heartbeat— he couldn’t believe it. You were here, in front of him. After months of longing, of only talking through a screen, you were standing right there, your bodies’ mere inches away from the other. Without thinking, he closed the distance between you two, pulling you into his arms.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he mumbled into your hair, his fingers tracing the curve of your back, feeling the warmth of your body against his.

You laughed softly, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze, “I thought I’d surprise you.”

“Yeah..and you did,” He replied. “but now that you’re here..” His eyes trailed over your body up and down, voice low. The tension built between you both was obvious, the look in his eyes said it.

His lips twitched into a smirk, pulling you close to him again, “Tell me my love, did you miss me a lot?” He asked, in a teasing yet flirtatious tone.

“Maybe, who knows?” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Want to find out?”

Kwon didn’t reply, his lips crashing on yours as his hands instinctively held onto your waist. The kiss deepened, hinting at the need that every inch of his body begged for. It was obvious to you—he wanted more.

Your fingers went up his chest, your other hand pulling him even closer to you–if that was possible.

He pulled away for a second, as your eyes met. His dark eyes were full of lust, but also shone with a hint of mischief. Before you knew it, Kwon leaned in again, kissing your jaw and trailing down to your collarbone. Removing a hand that was on your hip, he held onto your leg, lifting it up as you curled it around his waist.

Kwon kept kissing your body, the sounds that left your lips only fueling his desire. He had your back pressed against the wall, and began to take off your shirt.

“Fuck..” He silently cursed to himself as he looked up to see your expression— cheeks red as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Looking like a mess, how cute. And just for me, right?”

You nodded frantically, wanting him to stop teasing and continue.

Knowing you were desperate, Kwon chuckled. “Don’t worry love, after so many months apart, I’m not done with you just yet.”

HELP I FEEL SO EMBARRASSED I FEEL LIKE I DID SO BAD ON THIS 💀 well it was definitely interesting to do lol..time to work on those other requests now

[butlervibesonly]

𝐴𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛'𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝑓𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 || Austin Butler

• Summary : Y/n and Austin are invited to birthday party of one of his friend's baby, and who would have thought Austin will catch a huge baby fever by watching his love Y/n play with kids?

• Pairing : Austin Butler x female! reader

• Warnings : fluff, if we count baby fever?

• Note : I don't know much about Austin's friends so the one mentioned in this fic is all made up by me!! As I respect their privacy or don't want to spread misinformations this is all FICTION! (name is mentioned by ★ if there is a friend named by the same name I choose it's complete coincidence)

You absolutely love any kind of gatherings, whether it's family gathering, or simple friend gathering, but you never knew how much you adored birthday gathering until today.

Austin and you are invited to the birthday party of his friend's daughter, who is already one year old. Time flies so fast – when she was born you rarely saw each other because of your or Austin's busy schedule, but neither you or Austin would miss her 1st birthday.

You and Austin arrived at James' (★) place seeing everyone already being in the garden. The garden is a colorful explosion of pastel balloons, streamers, and an adorable banner that read "Happy birthday, Lily!". You couldn't help but gasp at the beautiful decorations. "I can't believe she's already one year old!" you smile at Austin who smiles back at you, leaving his hand on your back.

"Look who it is!" James pulls both of you in hug. "Hey, buddy!" Austin pats his back, all happy that he sees him. "Nice to see you again, Lily is looking forward to see you!" James smiled.

Your eyes immediately landed on Lily, perched in a playpen and clothed in a tiny pink dress. "Oh my gosh," you whisper, clutching Austin's arm. "She’s so tiny and cute! Look at her little cheeks!" James picks up Lily from playpen.

"We have some gift for birthday girl." Austin smiles, handing Lily a cute stuffed bear. Lily makes some cute noises, grabbing it from Austin. "Thanks, guys. Y/n, do you want to hold her?" James asks.

Without hesitation, you approach James, holding out your hands to Lily. Lily stares at you with big, curious eyes before offering a toothless grin that totally melts you heart on the spot. "Hi, birthday girl! Aren't you just the sweetest?"

Lily seems to agree, because she reaches out, wiggling her chubby little fingers, grabbing your face. You immediately tighten your arms around her, carefully holding her.

"Well, she might not let you go now," James teases, and Austin chuckles.

"I wouldn’t mind," you reply with a laugh, gently bouncing Lily. She giggles and you can't help but cuddle that little girl. You play with her, 'talk with her' as she mumbles some sweet baby noise.

Austin is already sitting with others by the table, arms crossed, but he doesn't pay attention to them – he watches you with a smile that grows wider by every second. There is something about the way you interact with Lily— your gentle touches, the way you talk to her as if she is the only thing that matters. It is adorable, heartwarming, and undeniably stirring something deep inside him.

For a moment, it's almost as if Austin shifts into future, imagining you with your own baby. Something he can't deny is the fact that you'll be an amazing mom to his kids one day. He actually can't wait to start a little family on his own.

"You’re staring, man," James teases, sidling up beside him.

"Can you blame me?" Austin replies, his voice soft. James smirkes knowingly. "That look on your face says one thing and one thing only—baby fever."

Austin scoffs, though his cheeks flushes. "I’m just admiring how great she is with kids, y'know," he tries to hide his true baby fever. "The way she can handle stuff, make Lily laugh..."

"Sure you are," James nudges him. "You’re already picturing a little one of your own, aren’t you?"

Austin opens his mouth to retort, but the sight of you planting a playful kiss on Lily's forehead stopped him. The baby squealed, clapping her tiny hands, and you laughed.

"Alright, maybe a little," he admitts sheepishly. "Don’t worry, you’ve got my vote," James pats him on the back. Austin smiles again, watching the both of you again.

As you're finally free you sit down beside Austin, joining others. During the day Austin is quiet, mostly smiling softly watching you. He touches your hand, kissing you softly.

"What's going, Butler?" you ask, teasing him. A grin appears on his face, tucking a hair behind your ear. "Mmm.. nothing." he looks away, trying to avoid eye contact as he's clearly lying.

"Come on, I know you're lying, Aus,"

"You'll be a wonderful mom one day."

His words surprise you. You and Austin have barely spoken about starting a family, but that seems very different in this moment. "Austin Butler, is that a baby fever I see on you?"

"I guess." he kisses you passionately. There's no doubt you've chosen the best man to be dad of your kids.

[enemiestolovershoe]

Silent Tension

Matt Sturniolo x enemie!reader

Summary: Matt and Y/N were best friends until one argument turned them into enemies. Will they ever find a way back to each other?

Warnings: arguments, fighting, making out, lmk if you find anything else.

Words: 5.2k

The kindergarten days felt like a lifetime ago now. Back then, the four of you were inseparable. Matt, Nick, Chris, and you were a perfectly chaotic little crew, spending recess planning adventures and sticking together against anyone who dared mess with one of you. Matt had been your closest match back then—quick-witted, stubborn, and full of ideas. You thought that bond would never break.

But high school changed everything.

It started small, with arguments over who got shotgun during group rides. Then came the endless bickering about group projects and plans. By sophomore year, the fights had escalated into something sharper, something mean.

“You can’t just do everything yourself,” Matt said one night, frustration thick in his voice.

“It’s not my fault you can’t handle it!” you snapped back, shoving a notebook into your bag after another group study session gone wrong.

Nick, sprawled on the couch with a soda in hand, raised an eyebrow. “Uh-oh. Here we go again.”

“You’re such a control freak,” Matt muttered, crossing his arms.

“And you’re lazy,” you shot back without missing a beat.

Chris, ever the calm one, stepped in. “Alright, that’s enough. Can we focus? This isn’t helping anyone.”

But Matt wasn’t done. “You think you’re better than everyone else because you plan everything to death. Newsflash: it’s annoying.”

“At least I don’t sit around waiting for other people to pick up the slack!”

“Guys, please!” Chris sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re giving me a headache.”

Nick grinned, throwing a pillow at Matt. “Yeah, cool it, bro. You’re scaring Chris.”

By junior year, the tension had spread beyond school. Group hangouts became a minefield.

One night at the mall, Matt and you ended up in yet another screaming match over something stupid.

“All I’m saying is, we didn’t need to spend an hour waiting for you to pick out a stupid hoodie,” Matt said, throwing up his hands as the group headed back to Nick’s car.

“It wasn’t just about the hoodie, Matt,” you snapped, glaring at him. “Maybe if you weren’t so impatient, we’d actually enjoy going out as a group.”

“Impatient? You’re the one who wasted everyone’s time.”

Nick piped up from the backseat, turning to grin at Chris. “Think we should start selling tickets? This is better than reality TV.”

Chris shot Nick a look. “Not helping.”

“Whatever,” Matt muttered. “Next time, just leave me out of it.”

“Gladly,” you said, slamming the car door behind you.

The ride home was silent, the air thick with unresolved anger.

Then there was the infamous beach trip during senior year. What should’ve been a relaxing day turned into yet another battlefield.

“Can you at least try to help with the setup?” you asked, struggling to hammer an umbrella into the sand while Matt sat under the shade of a nearby tree, scrolling on his phone.

“I’m supervising,” he said with a smirk, not even glancing up.

“You’re useless,” you muttered under your breath, loud enough for him to hear.

“Excuse me?” Matt stood up, his tone sharp.

“You heard me.”

Nick and Chris exchanged a look, already bracing for the explosion.

“Maybe if you weren’t so bossy, people would actually want to help you,” Matt shot back.

“Maybe if you weren’t so lazy, people wouldn’t have to pick up your slack,” you retorted, standing toe-to-toe with him now.

Nick broke the tension with an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, Mom and Dad, can we chill? Some of us are here to, like, enjoy the beach.”

Chris stepped between you two, his voice calm but firm. “Seriously, stop. This is getting old.”

You stormed off, muttering under your breath about how impossible Matt was. He didn’t try to follow.

By the time you were 21, things were worse than ever. Group events had become rare, mostly because no one wanted to deal with the inevitable clash between you and Matt.

At one game night, the tension boiled over again.

“Can you not cheat for once in your life?” Matt snapped as you reached for a card in a particularly heated game of Uno.

“I’m not cheating, you idiot. Maybe if you paid attention, you’d actually win for once.”

Chris sighed from his spot beside you, his patience clearly wearing thin. “It’s a card game. Can we not turn this into World War 3?”

Matt ignored him, leaning forward with a scowl. “You always do this. You can’t handle losing, so you find some way to bend the rules.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect. I forgot you’re the expert on everything.”

Nick laughed, shaking his head. “Man, y’all really need couples therapy.”

“Nick, shut up,” you and Matt said in unison, which only made him laugh harder.

Chris stood up, clearly done. “Okay, game night’s over. You two can keep fighting, but I’m not babysitting anymore.”

As Chris walked out of the room, Nick looked between you and Matt with a smirk. “So, who’s gonna admit they’re in love first?”

You threw a pillow at him. “Nick, I swear—”

Matt scoffed, crossing his arms. “As if.”

“Exactly,” you snapped, glaring at him. “You’d be the last person I’d ever—”

“Good! Glad we’re on the same page,” Matt interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Nick laughed again. “Man, you two are exhausting. But, like, in a fun way.”

Chris peeked back in from the hallway, his calm voice cutting through the chaos. “You’re not fun. You’re a headache. Both of you.”

As the tension settled for the night, you couldn’t help but wonder how it had come to this. Somewhere along the way, the friendship you once had with Matt had turned into a battlefield, and neither of you seemed willing to wave the white flag.

It was a sweltering summer afternoon, the kind that made everyone irritable. You’d come over to hang out with Chris and Nick, hoping to escape the heat and distract yourself from a long week. Matt, as usual, was there too.

From the moment you walked in, you could feel the tension. It was always there with Matt—humming under the surface, waiting for one of you to ignite it.

“Alright, who’s down for a Mario Kart tournament? Loser buys slushies,” Nick said, grabbing controllers from the cabinet.

Chris nodded. “I’m in. But Nick, you’re buying either way.

Nick grinned. “Bold of you to assume.”

You grabbed a controller, feeling a flicker of competitiveness. “Hope you’re ready to lose, Nick.”

Matt, leaning against the counter, crossed his arms. “You should worry about yourself. You’ve never beaten me.”

You rolled your eyes. “There’s a first time for everything.”

The game started off fine—until you accidentally bumped Matt’s character off the track.

“Oh, come on!” Matt exclaimed, leaning forward. “You did that on purpose.”

“It’s called strategy,” you shot back, grinning.

Matt’s scowl deepened as the race continued. When the final lap ended, your character crossed the finish line ahead of his. You threw your hands up triumphantly. “Yes! Finally!”

Matt tossed his controller onto the couch, glaring at you. “You only won because you cheated.”

You blinked, the excitement draining from your face. “How did I cheat?”

“You bumped me off the track,” Matt said, his tone accusatory.

“That’s part of the game, Matt,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“No, it’s not,” he snapped. “You’re always like this—always cutting corners to get ahead.”

“Cutting corners?” you repeated, standing up. “It’s a stupid game. Maybe if you weren’t such a sore loser, you’d actuallyhave fun.”

“Oh, I’m the sore loser?” Matt said, getting to his feet as well.

Nick, sensing the brewing storm, raised his hands. “Alright, time out. It’s just Mario Kart, guys.”

Chris sighed, already rubbing his temples. “Can we not?”

But the two of you were locked in now.

“You always do this,” Matt said, his voice rising. “You act like you’re better than everyone else, but you’re just as petty as the rest of us.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me? You’re the one making a big deal out of this!”

“Oh, because you’re so perfect, right?” Matt shot back, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “You can’t handle being called out, so you turn it around on me.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so impossible to deal with!”

Chris stood up, his calm demeanor cracking slightly. “Seriously, enough. This isn’t worth fighting over.”

“Stay out of it, Chris,” Matt said, not taking his eyes off you.

Chris frowned but didn’t argue.

“You know what your problem is?” Matt continued, stepping closer. “You’re so controlling. Everything has to be your way, and if it’s not, you freak out.”

“I’m not controlling,” you snapped. “I’m just tired of cleaning up after you all the time!”

Matt scoffed. “Cleaning up after me? You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Nick tried to step in again, his voice light but firm. “Guys, seriously, take a breath. Go outside or something.”

But it was too late. The fight was spiraling.

“Don’t I?” you said, crossing your arms. “You’re lazy, Matt. You never help with anything unless someone forces you to, and then you complain the whole time.”

“Oh, I’m lazy?” Matt shot back, his voice sharp. “At least I don’t bulldoze over everyone like you do. You think you’re so much better because you plan everything to death, but really, you’re just scared of messing up.”

Your chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than you expected. “Wow. Thanks for the insight, Dr. Matt. Maybe if you spent less time tearing me down, you’d actually accomplish something for once.”

Matt’s face darkened. “Tearing you down? You’re the one who’s always on my case. Every little thing I do, you have something to say about it.”

“Because you make it so easy!”

“You know what? I’m done,” Matt said, throwing his hands up. “You’re exhausting. No wonder people can’t stand being around you.”

“Excuse me?” you said, your voice trembling with anger. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Matt didn’t back down. “It means maybe your ex had a point.”

The room went silent.

Chris and Nick both froze, their eyes snapping to Matt in disbelief.

“What did you just say?” you asked, your voice low and unsteady.

Chris stepped forward, his voice firm. “Matt, don’t.”

But Matt ignored him. “Maybe your ex wouldn’t have cheated on you if you weren’t so suffocating.”

Your stomach dropped. Tears pricked your eyes as his words sunk in. “You’re unbelievable.”

Chris immediately stepped in, standing between you and Matt. “That’s enough. You’ve crossed the line.”

Nick’s voice was louder now. “Matt, what the hell is wrong with you?”

But Matt wasn’t done. “I’m just saying what everyone else is too scared to say.”

Your hands shook as you struggled to hold back tears. “You’re such a coward,” you said, your voice breaking. “You can’t handle your own issues, so you take them out on me. Well, congrats, Matt. You finally broke me. Are you happy now?”

Tears streamed down your face as you turned away, unable to look at him anymore.

Chris stepped forward, his calm voice laced with anger. “Go to your room. Now.”

Matt hesitated, glaring at you one last time before storming off, slamming his door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Chris turned to you, his expression softening. “Hey, come here.”

You let out a shaky breath as he pulled you into a hug.

“Why does he hate me so much?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “What did I do to make him like this?”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Chris said softly, rubbing your back. “He’s just… an idiot.”

Nick grabbed a glass of water and handed it to you. “Yeah, a massive idiot. Like, the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob. “I can’t keep doing this, Chris. Every time I come here, it’s like he’s waiting to tear me apart.”

Chris pulled back, cupping your face gently so you’d meet his eyes. “Listen to me. You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s just angry—at himself, at whatever—but it’s not about you.”

“Then why does it feel like it is?” you whispered, tears still streaming down your face.

Chris sighed, pulling you back into a hug. “I don’t know. But I’m going to fix it, okay? I promise.”

Nick sat beside you, patting your shoulder. “Yeah, and if he doesn’t apologize, I’ll pants him in public.”

You let out a weak laugh, wiping your eyes. “Thanks, Nick. That’s… oddly comforting.”

Chris stayed by your side, his calm presence steadying you as you tried to piece yourself back together. But no matter how much he reassured you, Matt’s words lingered, cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

About an hour had passed since the fight, and the tension in the house still hung heavy in the air. You were curled up on the couch with Chris, his arm draped protectively over your shoulder. Nick sat on the floor in front of you, scrolling through his phone and cracking occasional jokes to try and lighten the mood.

You’d stopped crying, but your chest still felt tight, your breathing shallow. Every time you thought about what Matt had said, it was like the wound reopened.

Chris’s hand absentmindedly rubbed your arm. “You good?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, though you didn’t feel entirely okay. “Better. Thanks for… you know, being here.”

“Always,” he said softly.

Nick glanced over his shoulder with a faint grin. “If you need me to distract you, I can pull up Matt’s senior photo. That thing’s a crime against humanity.”

You let out a weak laugh. “Thanks, Nick. I think I’ll pass.”

Just then, footsteps sounded from the stairs. Matt was coming down, his movements hesitant but deliberate.

Your stomach immediately twisted into knots, and you stiffened against Chris.

He noticed immediately. “Relax,” Chris whispered. “You’re safe.”

Nick, sensing the shift, turned to Matt with a warning look. “If you’re coming down to start something again, you can turn right back around and go upstairs.”

Matt shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m not here to fight.”

You looked at him warily, unsure of what to expect.

“Actually,” Matt continued, his voice quieter than usual, “I wanted to talk to Y/N. Alone.”

You stiffened even more, your breath catching in your throat. “What for? So you can tear me apart again? Bring up my past and rub salt in the wound?” Your voice cracked, still raw from earlier.

Matt winced, his jaw tightening. “No. I’m not here to do that. I… I want to apologize. But I’d rather do it one-on-one.”

Chris’s grip on your shoulder tightened protectively. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he said, his calm tone carrying a slight edge.

“Yeah,” Nick chimed in, crossing his arms. “She’s been through enough today. Whatever you need to say, you can say it in front of us.”

Matt shook his head. “Look, I get it. I’ve been a total dick, okay? But I need to fix this, and I can’t do that with you two hovering.” He turned to you, his gaze earnest. “Please, Y/N. Just give me five minutes. I promise, no fighting. No bringing up the past.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. You didn’t trust him—not after everything—but there was something different in his tone. He didn’t sound like the sharp, defensive Matt you’d been clashing with for years. He sounded… vulnerable.

Chris’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

Nick nodded. “Seriously. You’ve got nothing to prove to him.”

You hesitated, your gaze flicking between Matt and his brothers. Part of you wanted to shut him down, to tell him to leave you alone. But another part—the part that was tired of the constant fighting—wanted to hear him out.

You let out a shaky breath. “What do you want to talk about?”

Matt glanced at the door, then back at you. “We still need to grab those slushies. We can talk on the way there. Neutral ground.”

Chris frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m not going to do anything,” Matt said, his voice firm but not aggressive. “I just… need to talk. Please.”

You looked at Chris and Nick, then back at Matt. Against your better judgment, you slowly nodded. “Fine. But if you say anything—anything—like what you said earlier, I’m leaving. Got it?”

Matt nodded immediately. “Got it. No low blows. I swear.”

Chris sighed, his hand lingering on your shoulder as you stood up. “You sure about this?”

“No,” you admitted, your voice still shaky. “But I’ll be fine.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Text me if you need a rescue mission.”

You gave him a faint smile. “I will.”

Matt grabbed his keys and held the door open for you, waiting as you slipped on your shoes. Your anxiety bubbled in your chest as you stepped outside, the warm summer air doing little to ease the tension in your body.

You glanced back at Chris and Nick, who were watching you like hawks from the couch. Chris gave you a small nod, his silent way of telling you that he had your back no matter what.

“Let’s go,” Matt said quietly, leading the way to his car.

As you got in, you couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to say—and if you’d regret giving him the chance.

You slid into the passenger seat, the car’s interior thick with unspoken tension. Matt climbed into the driver’s seat, closing the door with a quiet click. He rested his hands on the steering wheel but didn’t start the engine. Instead, he leaned back, staring straight ahead, his jaw tightening and loosening as if trying to find the right words.

Finally, he broke the silence.

“I am so fucking sorry, Y/N,” Matt said, his voice low but steady. “I don’t even know where to start. I—I don’t know what got into me earlier, but I regret it. Deeply. More than I can even put into words.”

You turned to look at him, studying his face. There was no trace of his usual anger or smugness. He looked… tired. Defeated.

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “I was out of line. Way out of line. What I said about your past, about your ex—it was cruel, and it wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve that. Not then, not ever.”

You stayed quiet, unsure of what to say, but he continued.

“The truth is… I’ve been carrying around all this anger for so long. At first, I thought it was because you were always pushing my buttons or calling me out. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that it’s not about you at all. It’s about me. I’ve been projecting my own shit onto you, and that’s not okay.”

His hands tightened on the wheel as he glanced at you briefly, guilt etched into every line of his face. “You’ve been nothing but honest with me, and I’ve thrown that back in your face every chance I got. I don’t even know why. Maybe because it was easier to lash out at you than to deal with my own crap. But that’s not an excuse. I’ve hurt you, over and over again, and I hate myself for it.”

Your chest tightened at his words, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard.

“I guess… I’ve been jealous of you,” Matt admitted, his voice quieter now. “You’ve always had this way of handling things—like, you’re so driven, so put-together. Even when things fall apart, you don’t let it stop you. And I hated that because it made me feel like a mess in comparison. Like I couldn’t measure up.”

“Matt…” you started, but he held up a hand.

“Please, let me finish,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “I know that doesn’t justify anything. I’ve been a shitty friend. Hell, I haven’t even treated you like a friend. I’ve treated you like someone I could take my frustrations out on, and I’m so, so sorry for that. I’m sorry for all the fights, all the insults, all the times I made you feel like you weren’t enough. Because you are enough, Y/N. More than enough.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away, unsure if you were ready to forgive him yet.

Matt turned to face you fully now, his eyes earnest and a little glassy. “I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m tired of it. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be around me, like you have to walk on eggshells every time we’re in the same room. You’ve always been there for my brothers, for all of us, and I’ve done nothing but push you away. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

He hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing. “I know I’ve got a long way to go to make things right. And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I’m asking for a chance—a chance to show you that I can be better, that I want to be better. Not just for you, but for myself too.”

You felt your lip tremble as you tried to process everything he’d just said. The rawness of his apology, the vulnerability in his voice—it was so unlike the Matt you’d been clashing with for years.

Matt reached over hesitantly, his hand hovering near yours on the center console. “I mean it, Y/N. Every word. I’m sorry. And if there’s anything I can do to prove it to you, just tell me. I’ll do it.”

For a moment, you sat there in silence, his words hanging heavy in the air. Then, finally, you spoke, your voice soft but steady. “Why didn’t you just tell me all of this before? Instead of… everything else?”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Because I’m an idiot. And because it was easier to pretend it was your fault than to admit I was the one with the problem.”

You looked down at his hand, still hovering near yours, and after a moment of hesitation, you placed yours over it. His fingers curled around yours gently, as if he were afraid to scare you off.

“Matt…” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m not saying everything’s magically okay now. But… I appreciate you saying all of this. I really do.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “That’s all I can ask for.”

You looked down, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand. There was something vulnerable in the air between you two, a tension that was unfamiliar and heavy but not unwelcome. For once, Matt didn’t feel like your enemy. He felt like someone who was finally trying to understand you.

“Can I…” Matt hesitated, his voice unusually soft. “Can I hug you?”

You blinked at him, taken aback by the sudden question. But the sincerity in his eyes made you nod without thinking.

“Yeah,” you murmured.

He exhaled in relief and leaned over, wrapping his arms around you carefully, almost as if he were afraid you might pull away. His embrace was warm, solid, and it took you a moment to relax into it. But when you did, you felt a strange sense of comfort, the kind you hadn’t felt around him in years.

You rested your head against his chest, and his hand came up to gently cradle the back of your head. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, his voice muffled but still so close to your ear.

“I know,” you replied softly.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, wrapped in the quiet, tentative warmth of his arms. It felt like the weight of all those years of tension was melting away, even if only for a moment.

Eventually, you shifted slightly to look up at him, and Matt looked down at you. His expression was open, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him before. For a brief second, neither of you moved, and the world outside the car seemed to fade away.

You hadn’t realized how close you were until your eyes dropped to his lips. They parted slightly, and his breath hitched. His gaze flicked to your mouth, and suddenly, it felt like the air in the car had grown impossibly heavy.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice low and unsure, as if testing the waters.

You didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering as you both leaned in, hesitantly at first. There was a moment’s pause, so brief it was almost imperceptible, and then your lips met.

The kiss was soft, tender, and filled with a quiet kind of desperation. It wasn’t rushed or messy; it was careful, like neither of you wanted to break whatever fragile thing had just been built between you.

Matt’s hand slipped from your back to your waist, pulling you just a little closer as his lips moved against yours. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself responding instinctively, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

The kiss deepened slightly, and Matt tilted his head to the side, his nose brushing against yours. It was intimate in a way that left your heart pounding, your mind spinning.

Without breaking the kiss, Matt reached down and adjusted the seat lever, pulling it back to give you more room. His hands settled on your waist, gently guiding you over the center console and into his lap.

You let out a soft gasp against his lips as you straddled him, your knees pressing into the seat on either side of him. His hands stayed firm on your hips, grounding you as his lips continued to move against yours, slow but deliberate.

It was new, unfamiliar, and completely overwhelming—but it didn’t feel wrong. For once, it felt like the two of you weren’t at war. You weren’t fighting or tearing each other down. You were just… there, together, in a moment that felt like it belonged to no one else but you.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been kissing Matt, but it felt like time had stopped. The warmth of his hands on your waist anchored you, and the way his lips moved against yours felt so natural, so unlike anything you’d ever expected from him.

Between kisses, Matt pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “Y/N…” he murmured, his voice a little breathless. “I don’t think I’ve ever…” He trailed off, a rare flush creeping up his neck.

You blinked at him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “You’ve never what?”

He let out a quiet laugh, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ve never thought this would happen. Us. Like this. And… I kind of hate myself for waiting so long.”

His honesty left you momentarily stunned. This was Matt—your rival, the person who could always get under your skin. And yet, sitting here, holding you like you were the most fragile thing in the world, he wasn’t that Matt at all.

“Well, it’s happening now,” you said softly, a small smile playing on your lips. “And I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you completely, but… this feels different. You feel different.”

“I am,” he promised, his thumb grazing your cheek. “I swear, I am.”

You leaned back into the kiss, this time with less hesitation and more certainty. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer as the tension melted into something softer, more electric.

“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips between kisses. “I don’t want this to stop. But… if you want me to slow down, justsay the word.”

You shook your head slightly, brushing your nose against his. “I don’t want you to stop.”

His lips curved into a faint smile before they captured yours again. It wasn’t rushed or chaotic; it was patient, deliberate like he wanted to savor every second.

But just as you started to lose yourself in the moment, there was a sharp knock on the passenger-side window.

You froze, your eyes widening in panic as you turned to see Nick and Chris standing outside the car, smirking like they’d just won the lottery.

Matt groaned, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, his hands reluctantly dropping from your waist.

“Guess we’re busted,” you whispered, unable to stop the embarrassed smile that tugged at your lips.

Sliding off Matt’s lap, you scrambled back into the passenger seat, smoothing out your shirt and running a hand through your hair. Matt rubbed the back of his neck, looking equally flustered but unable to hide the amused smirk tugging at his lips.

Rolling down the window, you were met with Nick and Chris’s grinning faces.

“We just wanted to make sure you didn’t kill each other,” Chris said, barely holding back laughter. “We didn’t see the car drive away, so, you know, better safe than sorry.”

Nick leaned down, his grin absolutely wicked. “But clearly, you two found a different way to sort things out.”

“Real mature, Nick,” you shot back, though your cheeks were burning.

Matt leaned over the console, his arm casually draped across the back of your seat as he looked at his brothers. “Do you guys not have better things to do than stalk me?”

“Stalk you?” Nick gasped in mock offense. “We were concerned. Imagine our relief when we came out here and saw you weren’t choking each other—though, to be fair, this is definitely the opposite of what we expected.”

Chris snickered. “Honestly, I’m just shocked Y/N didn’t punch you in the face. Progress, I guess.”

You glanced at Matt, and to your surprise, he was smiling—not the smug, teasing smile you were used to, but a genuine one that softened his whole face.

“You know,” Matt said, his voice calm, “for once, I’m kind of glad you two interrupted. Otherwise, we might’ve stayed in here all night.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you smacked his arm playfully. “Matt!”

“What?” he said, feigning innocence as he held up his hands. “Just being honest.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Well, as much as I hate to break up this little love fest, are you guys still getting the slushies? Or were you planning to sit here making out until the sun comes up?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I can’t deal with you two.”

“Hey, you chose this life,” Nick quipped, winking.

Matt laughed, and to your surprise, the sound was lighthearted, even happy. He reached for the keys and started the car, shooting a glance at his brothers. “Don’t wait up.”

“Oh, we’re definitely waiting up,” Chris said with a grin. “This is going straight into the group chat.”

“Nick,” you groaned, giving him a pointed look, “if you just type one word—”

“I make no promises,” Nick interrupted, stepping back from the car as Matt began reversing out of the garage.

As you drove away, you couldn’t help but glance at Matt, your chest still fluttering from everything that had just happened. He caught your gaze and smiled, his hand resting on the console between you.

“Still okay?” he asked softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

And for the first time in years, you actually meant it.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

what am i to you | pablo gavi [part ii]

🌧️ synopsis: In an attempt to get over Pablo, you go on a date, only to end up in the hospital with a sprained ankle. When Pablo shows up uninvited, trying to take care of you, the moment turns into a full-blown fight. tags: angst, unrequited love, emotional tension. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 2.5k words)

you can read the first part here.

After the confession, you both said you'd stay in each other's lives, like nothing had changed. You promised. But promises, you realize, are easier said than kept.

The calls become even rarer, and when they do come, they’re awkward, halting. He used to be the first person you’d call when you were bored, the one you’d go to when you needed to vent or laugh, and now? Now you just… don’t.

That’s when you meet him – this other guy. He’s nice, funny enough, interested. And he’s not Pablo. You don’t have butterflies, but there’s a kind of safety in that, a relief in the way he looks at you with no expectations, no memories weighing you down. So when he asks you out, you say yes, not because you’re excited, but because you’re desperate to move forward, to stop feeling like you’re stuck in that moment when Pablo said, “I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you want.”

The night of the date, you’re almost ready when your phone rings. It’s Pablo, and your heart jumps, he hasn’t called in weeks, and it’s like he knew, like he somehow sensed that you were trying to step away from him for good.

You answer, trying to sound normal. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says, his voice distant, like he’s not sure if he’s intruding. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” you say, trying to keep it casual. You’re trying to decide between two different shoes for the date, and it feels wrong. “I guess we’ve both been… busy.”

It’s a lie, and you both know it. But you’re not about to get into that now. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, all dressed up, ready to leave.

“Actually,” you interrupt, “I’m kind of in a hurry. I have… plans.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you can almost picture the look on his face – confused, caught off guard. “Plans?” he asks, and you can hear an edge in his voice now, one he’s trying to hide. “Like… a date?”

“Yeah,” you say, forcing yourself to sound like it’s not a big deal. “I’m going out with someone.”

“With who?”

“Just… someone I met,” you say, trying to brush it off, “We’ve only talked a couple of times.”

There’s silence, and you’re about to check if he’s still on the line when he says, “So that’s what you’re doing now? Just going out with random guys?”

You get defensive. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” he snaps, his anger leaking into his words. “It’s just… you’re already –” He stumbles over the words, his voice tight. “Is that what you want now?”

“It’s not like that,” you insist, feeling the heat rise in your face. “You’re the one who –” You stop yourself because you promised you wouldn’t do this. You wouldn't blame him. But he doesn’t make it easy.

He lets out a bitter laugh, and it cuts deeper than you’d like to admit. “No, go ahead. Say it.”

You swallow hard, fighting the urge to lash back. “I miss you,” you say.

“It doesn’t look like you do,” he says quietly, and there’s a hurt there you didn’t expect. 

Your chest tightens, and you can feel the tears burning at the back of your eyes. “Pablo, you stopped calling,” you say, your voice breaking. “You left me here alone, what was I supposed to do?”

He doesn’t respond right away, and you wish you could see his face, wish you could understand what’s going through his mind. “I just… I thought we’d be okay,” he says finally, his voice sounding defeated. “That we’d get through this. Together.”

You take a shaky breath. “I thought so too,” you admit. There’s a silence that stretches on, heavy and suffocating.

“Yeah, well,” he mutters, “have fun on your date.” And then he hangs up before you can say another word, leaving you staring at your reflection, feeling like you’ve lost him all over again.

part 2

The date wasn’t going great, you didn’t have much in common with the guy, and things got even worse. One minute you’re walking across the street after dinner, pretending to laugh at some lame joke he made, and the next, your ankle twists under you, the pain shooting up your leg like a lightning bolt. You try to catch yourself, but you land hard, knees buckling beneath you.

The guy freaks out, asking if you're okay, but all you can focus on is the pulsing pain in your ankle. You're pretty sure it's sprained, but you're too embarrassed to admit it right away. He helps you up, practically carrying you to the nearest bench, and that's when you finally let yourself wince in pain.

A trip to the hospital later and you’re sitting in one of those sterile, white rooms, cradling your swollen ankle in your lap. Nothing too serious, just a sprain, but it’s enough to make you feel like an idiot. The guy’s hovering by the door, looking uncomfortable, like he wants to leave but doesn't know how. You can’t blame him. The awkwardness between you is palpable, and this was supposed to be a fun night.

You’re ready to get out of there, but you don't want to be alone for the discharge process. The guy’s already looking at his phone like he’s counting the minutes. So, you make a decision.

You pull out your phone, thinking of someone nearby, someone who won’t make things more awkward. Aurora. You don’t really want to call her, but she lives in the neighborhood, and you can’t stand the idea of sitting here with the date guy. It's nothing against him – well, maybe it is, but you really just need a friend right now.

You hit call, and it rings a few times before she picks up, her voice bright and concerned.

“Hey, what’s up? You good?”

“I’m at the hospital,” you say quickly, the words sounding so much worse than they feel. “I sprained my ankle on the date, can you come? Please?”

Aurora doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course, I’m on my way.” You end the call, grateful she’s coming, and feeling a lot better knowing someone familiar will be here soon.

A few minutes later, the door swings open. You expect it to be Aurora, but when you look up, you freeze.

Pablo stands there, his eyes wide with concern, his posture stiff. And right next to him, Aurora is visibly cringing, her face flushed red. She’s holding her hands up in an apologetic gesture. “I didn’t mean to –” she starts, but Pablo cuts her off.

“Are you okay?” His voice is frantic, as if you’re on the brink of death instead of sitting there with a sprained ankle.

You blink, taken aback by how he’s acting.

“I’m fine,” you say, a little too forcefully, but the last thing you need right now is to be treated like a patient. “Just a sprain. Nothing serious.”

Pablo doesn’t look convinced. He steps into the room, eyes scanning your ankle. He’s clearly overreacting, but it’s hard to argue with him when he’s looking at you like that.

Aurora stands off to the side, a sheepish look on her face. “I’m sorry, I called him,” she whispers. “I thought you’d want him to know.”

“Really?” you ask, a little irritated now, because it’s clear Pablo doesn’t know how to handle this. You’re still pissed at him for the phone call earlier, but now? Now it feels like he’s intruding, even though you’re happy to see him, just not like this.

Pablo, still standing too close, suddenly shifts his weight, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know, I just… I thought I should be here,” he says, his voice a little quieter, like he’s realizing how ridiculous he’s being.

“I’m fine,” you repeat, trying to lighten the mood. “Seriously. I’m just waiting to be discharged.”

Before you can say anything else, the date guy clears his throat. You turn to see him stepping forward.

"Um, should I leave?" His voice is a little too high-pitched, trying to be polite but also clearly uncomfortable now that Pablo’s here. Pablo, who’s still looking at you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re dying, shifts his eyes to the guy standing by the door.

“Who even are you?” Pablo’s tone is confused, but there's also a sharpness to it now, something territorial. It doesn’t make sense, but you can feel the weirdness between them.

You open your mouth, about to explain, but Pablo cuts you off.

“Is that the guy you just had a date with?” His eyes rake over him. "Yeah, you can leave now. I got it." He waves him off, voice firm and final, like he’s the one in charge here.

“Pablo, what the hell?” you snap. Your blood’s boiling, you look over at the date guy, who’s still standing there like he’s waiting for a command. “Yeah, you can go now,” you say, softer, sweeter than Pablo, but the sentiment’s the same. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

Pablo scoffs, and it’s the kind of sound that tells you he’s annoyed, but it’s also kind of funny, considering he’s the one who’s ruining the moment. You’re not sure if he’s jealous or if he’s just being an idiot, but it pisses you off all the same.

Once the date guy leaves, the silence between you and Pablo is loud. You cross your arms, staring at him like you’re daring him to keep pushing.

“Well, now you can leave!” you say, voice cool, as you face him. 

Pablo doesn't budge, though. "And how are you going home?" He sounds offended, like you’ve done something wrong by even suggesting that he should leave.

You roll your eyes. “Aurora can take me,” you mutter, already tired of the back-and-forth.

Pablo’s face twitches like he’s winning the argument. “I drove Aurora here,” he says, smug. Like the fact that he’s the one with the car makes him the one in control now.

Your eyes narrow, but deep down, you know you’ve got no choice. “Fine,” you grumble, defeated.

part 3

Pablo’s arms are strong, but his touch is gentle as he picks you up, carrying you bridal style like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hands are steady as he lifts you, his face close to yours, it makes you feel like you're back in that place where everything between you two was simple. But that’s not the reality anymore, is it?

He doesn’t say a word as he carries you to the couch, setting you down so gently it’s almost too much. You want to tell him to back off, to let you handle it, but you catch something in his eyes that stops you – he’s looking at you like you’re the most important thing in the world, and you can’t deal with that, not right now.

“It’s just a sprain,” you say, but your voice cracks halfway through, and you hate yourself for it. You hate how kind he’s being, how his touch makes everything hurt even more.

Pablo shakes his head. “I miss you too,” he says, his voice low, almost broken. It’s a call back to the phone call, to what you said earlier, and it’s like he’s holding onto those words for dear life.

Your heart feels like it’s about to shatter. “Then let me go,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face. “We can’t be friends if I’m in love with you, you idiot.”

He’s closer now, wiping the tears from your cheek, his hand lingering longer than it should. He’s too close, and you’re drowning in it. But you let him stay because, in some twisted way, it’s all you have left of him.

“Don’t go on dates with idiots,” he says, his voice is exasperated. “You don’t need them. You just need to be with me, and we can make it work. We can go back to how it was. I promise.”

You shake your head, trying to stop the tears that just won’t quit. “Just because you don’t want me doesn’t mean no one else will,” you say, the words bitter on your tongue. “Don’t act like I can’t find someone who can make me happy.”

Pablo’s face hardens, his eyes narrowing. “You’re just doing this to get back at me, and you know it.”

You almost laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not trying to get back at you, I’m trying to move on. I can’t keep pretending we’re okay.”

“You don’t need someone else,” he says through gritted teeth, his hand clenched into a fist. “You never needed anyone else. You’ve always had me.”

“Not anymore,” you snap, your anger flaring. “I don’t have you anymore! You’ve shut me out like nothing happened!”

His eyes flash, he steps closer, his hand reaching out for you, but you flinch back, afraid of how close he is, afraid of what it means. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, his voice so small. “I just... I didn’t know what to do.”

“You didn’t have to do anything,” you say, your whole body trembling. “You just had to stay.”

His face falls, and for a second, you almost reach out to him. But you stop yourself. “I want my best friend back,” he says, his voice cracking.

“You don’t get that,” you shout, the words rushing out. “You can’t pretend I’m the same person I was before any of this happened. I’m not!”

“I don’t care!” His voice rises, raw and desperate. “I don’t care if it’s different, I just want you in my life. I don’t know what to do without you.”

You pull away. “You can’t keep saying that.”

He looks at you, devastated. He’s leaning closer now, his hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing circles against your skin. It’s like he’s pretending nothing’s changed, pretending this is how things always were.

“Pablo –"

You push against his chest, the tears running down your face now, uncontrollable. “Please, just leave,” you say, your voice shaking, but you mean it.

You’ve had enough. You’re done.

But Pablo just looks at you, he doesn’t move, doesn’t leave, and for a moment, you’re sure he’s not going to listen.

“Please,” you beg, your voice breaking. "Just go."

Pablo’s hand brushes his own cheek, wiping away a tear he hadn’t realized fell. He speaks like he's trying to convince himself more than you. “I’ll come back,” he says. “To check on your injury, make sure you’re better.”

He looks away quickly. “I’ll take care of you... like you took care of me.” His words hang in the air, painfully.

You watch him go, every step tearing at you. As the door closes, you stare at it for a second, your body tensing as if it’s about to snap in two. And then you can’t take it anymore. You reach for the nearest pillow, throwing it at the door with every ounce of anger you’ve been holding inside.

“Idiot!” you scream, everything hurts – your heart, your head, your stupid, stupid tears.

You sit there, staring at the door, feeling the ache spread through your chest. It hits you like a punch – you haven’t touched him, haven’t held him in over a month. It feels like the end of everything, and it’s crushing you.

You curl up on the couch, hugging yourself, wishing things could go back to how they were before everything went wrong. But they can’t. All you have is the emptiness he left behind, and it’s swallowing you whole.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

2 Minus 1 - Act Three

Seungcheol is doing good without you. Really good, in fact! He’s got a great job, has his own apartment, and has many friends surrounding him. He’s even done some dating in the three years that you’ve been gone. On some blissful days, you don’t even cross his mind. But when you reappear in his life, he has to come to terms with the fact that he might not be doing as good as he thought he was. 

Genres: ANGST with a little bit of fluff here and there. One suggestive scene (minors, use caution). 

Word count: 7.7k

Requested? Yes!

You can find the series masterlist here.

Minghao’s throwing a New Year’s Eve party. Seungcheol seemed to have found out last because it’s you that asks him if he’s going when you both step out for lunch a couple days before. Instead of going back to his office, he stops into his team’s office, hanging over Minghao’s cubicle wall. “When were you going to tell me you were throwing a New Year’s Eve party? Is this your way of telling me I’m not invited?”

“Huh?” Minghao mumbles, still typing up something. “Oh, yeah. It was kind of a spur of the moment thing. Didn’t get a chance to send a message about it yet.” Seungcheol sort of accepts this answer because things have been pretty busy around here in preparation for the new year. New budget means new plans and new goals, along with a renewed push from leadership to break records. There’s been a lot of pressure to start out the year on the right foot. 

Still, Seungcheol pouts a bit. “And Y/N knew before I did?”

“Oh, yeah. I ran into her in the elevator yesterday and mentioned it. Stop being a big baby,” Minghao says, totally unsympathetic. 

“Y/N is coming?” Chan pipes up from his cubicle, sounding excited. He rolls his chair into the aisle, running into Seungkwan when he does the same thing. They both groan and start pushing each other. The rest of them ignore the scuffle.

“Yes,” Minghao says shortly, turning to Seungcheol. “I assume you’ll be there since you’re attached to her hip.”

He doesn’t miss the sly look that all four of his friends give him at the mention. “Not sure what that’s supposed to mean. I thought you wanted me to get along with her.”

“As just a friend?” Vernon poses. 

Seungcheol stalls out for a second, blinking. “Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?”

“Well, that’s a good thing, I guess. She asked if I minded if she brings a friend of hers. Someone from law school, or something. He’s in town for the holidays,” Minghao explains and Seungcheol can see clear as day that this is bait. Still, he can’t seem to help how his jaw clenches. 

“Did she happen to mention his name?”

“Jeonghan, something or other. It’s a law school friend, you wouldn’t know him right?” 

He knows they’re continuing to bait him. She’s a friend and this is a person he doesn’t know, so what’s the big deal? Seungcheol can’t help the curse he mutters. “No, I know Jeonghan. He’s from here, we went to school with him. And they dated while they were in California, apparently.”

An ‘oooo’ echoes throughout the office, then a cackle or two. They all look like they need bags of popcorn with how entertained they look at his suffering. “Oh no,” Seungkwan cries out in faux sympathy. “Cheol, what are you going to do? Her exboyfriend came all the way here to see her.”

“He didn’t come here just to see her,” Seungcheol defends, fists tightening on the wall of Minghao’s cubicle. “I just said he’s from here. He’s here to see family first, surely.”

“And run to see his ex before he goes back home? Maybe get a New Year’s Kiss from her?” Chan wiggles an eyebrow. The thought makes Seungcheol’s blood boil. He’d intentionally avoided spending much time thinking about you with Jeonghan. He knew you had kind of made the poor guy’s dreams come true by dating him. 

“Oh my god, look how red he’s getting,” Seungkwan chortles. 

Minghao turns to give them a warning look, though he sort of looks entertained too. He glances back to Seungcheol. “Don't pop a vein. You look pretty jealous for someone that fell apart when he found out she worked here.”

“I’m not jealous,” he insists stubbornly. Not a single one of them buy it and he huffs. “Get back to work. We have things due at the end of the day.”

He is not jealous. He is not jealous. He is not jealous! It becomes his mantra the whole afternoon as he tries to get through his to-do list.

~

He is not jealous. He is not jealous. He is not jealous!

He chants it to himself in his head when he knocks on your door. Jeonghan opens the door with a wide grin. “Hey, Seungcheol. It’s been a while,” he says letting him in. Seungcheol had always liked Jeonghan in high school. He was funny, a little bit of a troublemaker, but also seemed to be incredibly intelligent, judging by how he was always in the running for top of the class. He tries to be warm, but Jeonghan looks far too comfortable in your apartment. He wonders if Jeonghan stayed here for a couple days while in town. He wonders where he slept - was it the guest bedroom or somewhere else?

“Yeah, it has. How have you been?” He sits with Jeonghan in the living room, doing small talk. They’re interrupted by a yell from the hallway. 

“Hannie, who are you talking to?” 

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan shouts back. 

“Oh!” You shout. “Hi Cheol. I promise I’m almost ready.”

“Yeah right,” Jeonghan mumbles. “I’ve never seen her be ready on time.”

This does make Seungcheol snort. “Never.”

Jeonghan gives him a curious look. “How are things going there? Between you two, I mean. She was pretty anxious about running into you.”

The question gives Seungcheol pause for so many reasons. So many, in fact that it makes him shake his head confused. “You want to hear how things are going with your ex?”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow, entertained. “Yes. Do you want to hear how things are going with your ex?” That question makes him grit his teeth and Jeonghan spots it, chuckling. “Yeah, that tracks. But yes, I want to know that things are going well between you two, no matter what it’s defined as.”

Seungcheol’s jaw is tight. “We’re fine. We always will be.”

He hates how Jeonghan leans back, feet propped up on your coffee table, sipping his drink like he owns the place. Like he has Seungcheol right where he wants him. “Uh huh. So no plans to rekindle anything then? Just going back to friends?” 

“Yes,” Seungcheol grinds out. “Have you always been this nosy?”

Jeonghan laughs. “Maybe not, but I’m invested when it comes to Y/N. The consequences of dating for a few years, I suppose.”

Seungcheol’s breath catches. When you said you had dated Jeonghan for a while, he was picturing a few months, not years. He doesn’t know why you didn’t just tell him the actual timeframe, but then he thinks better of it. If he’s not handling it well now, then he wouldn’t have handled it well a while back either.

Finally, Seungcheol decides he sort of hates Jeonghan - not him as a person necessarily, but because you sort of made a home with him in California for three years. Enough for Jeonghan to come see you when he’s in town. He wishes there was even a tinge of bitterness between you and Jeonghan post breakup.

“So, what? You've come to visit and get back together?” He can’t really hide his own bitterness. “How’s that going to work when you both live across the world from each other?”

Jeonghan shrugs casually. “Distance wouldn't be an issue for me personally, but I’m actually looking for jobs here.”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply because he’s spiraling a bit and you’re rushing into the room, dressed to the nines and it’s all so distracting. “I’m ready! Let’s go!” You yell, shoving your feet in heels and grabbing a coat while Seungcheol and Jeonghan trail behind you. You chatter enough for everyone on the way to Minghao’s and when he leads you both into his friend’s apartment, he goes straight to the alcohol. He feels sick to his stomach before the first sip, but he needs the distraction from thinking about Jeonghan moving back and moving in with you next door and having to see you two together all the time. 

He’d have to move and probably quit his job. And maybe leave the face of the earth.

~

Jeonghan knows quite a few people here tonight, but he still stays glued to you. It’s nice, really. You’ve settled in and have gotten comfortable with the way things are since moving back, but Jeonghan is an extra slice of familiarity that comforts you, if only for a couple days before he has to fly back. 

It’s not like you two haven’t talked nearly every week since you moved, but there are so many things that you both seem to want to talk about now that you’re face to face. You missed him, and you missed Joshua, who you can get decent updates on now that Jeonghan is in front of you. Joshua has scheduled to take the bar exam and has been studying night and day, ignoring pretty much everyone since graduation. Jeonghan says he pops in every few days to get him to come up for air. 

You’ve told him about your job, which you feel pretty neutral about it. Like Seungcheol, Jeonghan assures you that it’s okay to just have a job now and not a career, and that the degree wasn’t wasted if you don’t take the bar and practice law. He even discourages it because even though he hasn’t hit the books as hard as Joshua has, he says it’s still miserable.

He’s also incredibly nosy about how things are going with Seungcheol. When you told him about your first run in and subsequent birthday parties, he’d chuckled and told you it was only a matter of time. You can’t share mutual friends for your whole lives and never see each other. But he flat out cackled when you told him that you’d unknowingly accepted a job at the same company that he worked for. Jeonghan reveals that he knew that all along and you wished you could strangle him through the screen. You even threaten to get on a plane to do it in person. He just rolled his eyes and said, “What? You don’t check LinkedIn from time to time? I knew the company you accepted the role from sounded familiar so I checked.” He was still more entertained when you told him who your new neighbor was and made some joke about fate.

In the present, Jeonghan’s grinning over his glass at you in the corner of the room. “Someone hates me, I think. I’m getting a death glare.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Like it’s hard to hate you?” He shoves you lightly. “But who?”

Jeonghan snorts. “Who do you think? The most jealous person I think I’ve ever met.” He gestures across the room and it’s not hard to figure out who he’s talking about. Seungcheol looks pissed, but you’re confused because for the life of you you can’t figure out why he’d be pissed at you or Jeonghan. You thought things were good between you and Seungcheol now, especially after he said he didn’t hate you on Christmas just a week ago. He really looks like that could have been a lie right now.

“But why? He’s not entertained anything more than friendship, and even then that was like pulling teeth at first,” you sigh, looking down into your glass.

Jeonghan sighs lovingly. “Oh, honey. I love you so much, you know that, right?” You nod when it seems he actually wants an answer. “But sometimes, you’re incredibly dense. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.”

Your eyes widen, hair standing on end. This doesn’t sound like a ‘spilled coffee on your laptop but here take mine’ kind of fix. The look on his face makes you nervous. “What are you planning, Yoon Jeonghan?”

He looks mildly entertained at your threatening tone before turning serious. “Do you trust me?” You stare up at him, blinking. “I need an answer to that. I can fix this but it might get worse before it gets better.”

“Define ‘fix’. And what are you fixing exactly?” You press.

“You and Seungcheol. It’s time to do something about this, but my methods might be unorthodox and you need to roll with it if it will work.”

Jeonghan has never led you astray and you do trust him implicitly. You glance to Seungcheol, who still looks angry, before looking back up at Jeonghan, huffing. “What did you have in mind?”

Minghao is coming around with flutes of champagne. The ball drop is queued up on the TV with the countdown ticking. You both take glasses from Minghao, setting your other ones to the side. “I promise it will be okay,” Jeonghan says evasively. It makes your anxiety spike.

“Hannie, please tell me what you’re planning.”

People are starting to countdown and he has to lean in close to your ear so you can hear him. “I’m going to help you make him jealous.”

You blanch, pulling away from him to give him a look. “What?!”

He’s pulling you back to him, hand now on the small of your back. “Just trust me. He’s holding back right now, but once all of that anger comes out I think he’ll be more upfront about his feelings. Namely that he’s not over you. You want that, don’t you?”

You think fast in seconds. You don’t like the pressure of the countdown. You do want to rekindle things with Seungcheol if he’d ever let you. You’d never really wanted it to end in the first place but it seemed inevitable at the time. And now he’s been a lock box for pretty much everything that isn’t professional as coworkers or casual as friends. He treats you like he wasn’t your best friend for years and it stings. He treats you like he wasn’t totally in love with you while dating, just as you were with him, and that stings even more. You want him back. 

The countdown has hit ten and you lean in to Jeonghan’s ear. “You’re sure this will work? How sure?”

“99% sure.”

“Okay, then. Don’t make me hate you.”

Jeonghan chuckles and his lips are on yours when the ball drops. 

~

It becomes apparent at approximately 11am on January 2nd that you should have doubted Jeonghan’s little plan. You have a meeting with Seungcheol's department to wrap up the contract revisions and Mrs. Jang and Seokmin have let you take the lead on it. It becomes clear within the first five minutes of the meeting that you’ve done something wrong.

Or everything wrong, really.

Seungcheol is cold, even flat out rude to you as you present the revisions, explaining the logic behind some of the changes. Nothing is good enough and he’s brutal about correcting your work in front of everyone. Minghao tries to delicately step in and get you back on track on some of the things you’ve done, but if he disagrees with the things he doesn’t speak up on, he doesn’t say so. Everyone’s uncomfortable and you close out the meeting as smoothly as possible, letting them know that you’ll make the revisions they mentioned and send out an updated version later today for review. 

In the elevator, Mrs. Jang kindly says that you did well and you’ll get better with those little things with time. You’re thankful that she’s not disappointed or upset with some of the mistakes you’ve made, and that she’s giving you grace to fix it. But still, you’re itching to go somewhere and cry because Seungcheol’s never treated you like that.

Seokmin seems to sense it because he’s handing you your coat as soon as you get back into your shared office. “Let’s go for a long lunch.” He doesn’t really leave room for an argument, and even threatens to go into the women’s restroom to get you if you take too long on your way out of the building. He promises he'll close the office door later this afternoon if you still wanted to cry.

At the restraurant down the street, he orders food before sitting back and sighing. “That was rough. How are you feeling?”

“Pretty fucking fragile,” you bite, trying to blink back your tears. You do not want to cry in this restaurant right now. You’re almost angry at how emotional of a reaction you’re having.

Seokmin looks sympathetic. “I’ll say. That must be the ‘unpleasantness’ some people alluded to before. What even prompted that? I thought things were going well there.”

You put your head in your hands, sighing. “My stupidity prompted it.” 

“What? What could you have possibly done to deserve that?” Seokmin cries out. You explain everything - Jeonghan, and your relationship back in California, and his bright idea on New Year’s. Seokmin hums, nodding his head with a deep sigh. “Okay, yeah. That might have been stupid.”

You groan, interrupted by the waiter bringing you and Seokmin your food. “It made sense at the time. And it’s not like Jeonghan doesn’t know Seungcheol. They might not have been super close, but Jeonghan’s usually pretty good at reading people and I trusted his assumption.”

“Eat,” Seokmin nudges, handing you chopsticks. “And his assumption was what? That Seungcheol would snap and confess his feelings?”

“Something like that,” you answer weakly. “Seems like it backfired. Yet another thing I’ve ruined.”

“Nuh uh,” Seokmin says automatically, waving his chopsticks at you. “Stop saying you ruin things. Ruining implies you can’t fix it.”

“And you think I can fix this? This felt pretty far gone before I made this most recent bad decision.”

Seokmin’s insistent though. “Going to law school abroad wasn’t a bad decision. Did it hurt? Probably. But stop acting like doing something for yourself ruins everything.” He pops a bite of chicken into his mouth, chewing and swallowing before continuing. “Besides, I’m not doubting your trust in Jeonghan’s theory. Some people respond to jealousy… It just seems like it will get worse before it ever gets better.”

You play with your food, moving it around on the plate. “Yeah, Jeonghan said something like that. I just expected some silent treatment or something. Not to be berated in a work meeting.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s hearing about that as we speak.” You give Seokmin a look and he chuckles, raising an eyebrow. “His team loves you. They did not look happy about his behavior. Not sure it will change anything, but this does seem like a problem between you and Seungcheol, rather than a problem with your work itself. I’ve made the same mistakes you did.”

You groan. “And to think he’s my neighbor. I can’t even escape it at home.”

Seokmin’s choking on his food. “He’s your neighbor?!” 

“Oh,” you start. “Yeah, did I forget to mention that?”

When he’s no longer choking, he shakes his head. “That’s it, you’re paying this time. I know it was my turn and I was going to be nice because you’ve had a rough morning, but you better have your wallet ready because I’m ordering egg rolls to go.”

You get scolded all afternoon about keeping secrets from your only favorite office mate.

~

Seungcheol huffs from behind his monitor. He’s sent a message in the team group chat and it’s starting to look like he’s talking to himself as he scrolls through the recent chat history. He sends something, be it a task or a request for a status update, and he gets the shortest responses possible. Usually a thumbs up emoji, but sometimes a short answer if an explanation is required. Sometimes, it’s nothing at all. They’re doing the work, but it’s clear they’re mad. They have been since earlier this week. 

Seungcheol isn’t proud of himself for how he handled that meeting with you earlier this week. He didn’t stick around afterwards because he could tell his team was disappointed. But they usually aren’t shy about telling him their problems, even with him. The silence is deafening and he knows he’s fucked up.

Minghao comes in to drop off a stack of papers and looks like he’s trying to exit quickly, but Seungcheol stops him. “What’s this?” 

Minghao spins in the doorway. “Financials for last quarter. I need your signature on it before I can ship it off to Budgets.”

“Oh,” Seungcheol mumbles. “I’ll just do it right now.” He grabs a pen and starts skimming, but Minghao cuts him off.

“Actually, do it later. I’m not ready to be berated for my work right now.”

Seungcheol pauses and purses his lips, placing the report and the pen back down. “Why would I do that? Your work is usually flawless. That’s why you’re the team lead.”

“I don’t know,” Minghao drawls coldly. “You can be pretty brutal it seems.” 

Seungcheol bites the inside of his cheek. “Is that why you guys have been dodging me all week?” To his credit, Minghao doesn’t deny it and that’s answer enough. Seungcheol sighs. “Was it that bad?”

“Bad? I’m sure she ran off to cry after the meeting. I think even I would have had an emotional reaction,” Minghao says bluntly. The knife twists in Seungcheol’s chest. He was so angry, and still is, that he hadn’t been thinking about your reaction. Minghao’s sighing, coming back in to sit down. “I thought you could be civil. What the hell happened to that?”

“I don’t know,” Seungcheol mumbles. He certainly does know, but he’s not brave enough to say it, lest he piss off his friends even more.

Still, Minghao scoffs. “Look. I saw her and Jeonghan on New Year’s. It really is okay if you just admit that you’re jealous. I’d even sympathize with you on it. You bottling things up is 90% of the problem here.”

Stubbornly, Seungcheol shakes his head. He doesn’t know why the word ‘jealous’ made him flip a switch so fast, but he’s back to being angry. “I’m not jealous. I did what you said and I tried to salvage some sort of friendship, but it’s hard to watch your ex with someone else. That’s not jealousy though. That’s me trying to accept the fact that things are different.”

“And your acceptance of these changes means ripping her apart in a professional setting?” Seungcheol doesn’t really have a response. No matter how he felt in the moment, he was embarrassed that he acted so unprofessionally. Minghao shakes his head. “I told you up front, you should just tell her you’re angry. Admit it and you’ll feel a lot lighter.”

“Why would she want to hear about that? I mean, who knows what’s going on with her and Jeonghan? He said he’s looking for jobs here.”

“And none of that might matter if you just admit how you feel,” Minghao insists. Seungcheol’s phone rings and Minghao stands up. “Take it. I’ve said all I can say now.”

~

It’s Saturday morning and your phone has gone off no less than ten times since 8am. You know who it is but you’ve been letting it ring. But after you’re ripped from sleep for the eleventh time, you’re starting to lose patience. You switch off the sound, turning on vibration. But the buzzing across your nightstand is just as obnoxious and by the thirteenth call, you’re snatching up your phone. “What?” You snap.

“Oh, so you aren’t dead!” Jeonghan cheers. 

“Nope, not dead. Just mad,” you bite, burying yourself back into the covers. 

“Uh huh, I kind of figured that out when you ignored everything I sent the whole week,” Jeonghan smarts. “Now are you going to tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it?”

You snort. “No, I will not let you fix anything else for a while.”

“Ah,” Jeonghan’s voice lifts and it irritates you. “Well I did tell you it could get worse before it gets better.” You’re silent, and his voice turns gentle. “Come on. Tell Hannie about it.”

“No. You need to be going to bed,” you insist, thinking of the time difference. Mad as you are, he needs his sleep.

“And I haven’t been able to do much of that, what with my best friend ignoring me. Now, help me so I can help you.”

You sigh. “Hold on. Let me get coffee and switch to FaceTime.” Once dressed with a coffee mug in hand in front of your computer, you rant. It feels never ending and it brings you to tears. All of the frustration of the last week, and really the last few months of living here, are boiling over and you feel like you could sob. 

To his credit, Jeonghan looks sympathetic. He usually prevents these crying jags before they start, but he can’t really do that oceans away. “I’m sorry, honey. I did say it could get worse before it gets better, but I was genuinely hoping it would never get that bad. I kind of just wanted him to spit it out, you know?” He sighs, watching you rub your watery eyes. “Have you seen or talked to him since then?”

You scoff. “No. Thankfully, there haven’t been any more meetings and I’ve managed to avoid him at home too. I’ve been going in early and staying late, if only so he doesn’t feel compelled to give me a ride or anything.” You snort at the thought. “Not that he would do that right now, I think.”

“I don’t know that I’d go that far,” Jeonghan trails off. “You know, you could just ask what his deal is? At least, he wouldn’t be holding back because he thinks you don’t want to hear it.” He hesitates for a beat. “You do want to hear it, right?”

You sigh, swirling your now-cold coffee. “I don’t know. Who knows what he might have to say? Maybe it’s better if we just stick to being coworkers. Maybe we can manage that one day.”

“I’m sure,” Jeonghan says confidently. “But don’t be shy about clearing the air for everything else if he gives an opening. You’ll both feel better for it, I think.” Then he’s holding up his phone. “Now, play me back in Words with Friends. Our game is about to expire! You can’t ignore me like this!”

~

The following week, Seungcheol stays late to wrap up some things. It’s 7pm before he finally stands to stretch, grabbing his coat and logging out of his computer. He looks at his phone on the way to the elevator and mumbles a curse. He’s got multiple notifications about a winter storm that’s rolling in, well, right now. He’s relieved he drove today, but it seems it doesn’t matter because road conditions seem to be a problem at the rate that the snow is coming down. 

He steps into the elevator when it arrives and presses for the first floor, going back to his phone. He’s surprised when the elevator stops almost immediately on the tenth floor. He bites back a sigh when it’s you of all people waiting for it. You look like you might back away and not get in the elevator with him, but he waves you in impatiently. You come in, finding the opposite corner in silence. It’s crushing and uncomfortable. 

On the first floor, he lets you step out first and even gets the door for you at the main exit. Outside, he’s ready to hustle to the parking garage because he had every reason to be concerned about the road conditions and doesn't want to dally. But you haven’t moved and it makes him bite back a curse. He doesn’t want to offer you a ride but it would be beyond rude not too. Plus, if Wonwoo or Mingyu knew he didn’t, he’d never hear the end of it. 

Seungcheol huffs irritably. “Come on.” You give him a confused look. “You’re not walking home. Come on before I change my mind.”

The only indication that you follow is the soft click of your heels behind him up into the parking garage. You don’t say anything as you climb into the passenger seat of his car, placing your bag in the floor. Seungcheol blasts the heat and pulls out of the space. The street is slick and he white knuckles it the whole way home as he drives around a number of accidents. You’re still silent, up until he pulls into his reserved spot in the parking garage at home. 

“Thank you,” you mumble softly. 

Seungcheol is tired in every sense of the word - mentally, physically, emotionally. So he mumbles back, “For what?” He rubs his eyes during the beat of silence that you let pass.

“For the ride. For making sure we got home safe.”

He’s exhausted by your constant thanks lately. ‘Thanks for asking.’ ‘Thanks for the help.’ ‘Thanks for the ride.’ It’d never occurred to him that you didn’t say it much before, but now it drives him up the wall that you do say it. “Why wouldn’t I do that?” He huffs tiredly. 

You hesitate again. “Because you hate me. It seems like it, anyway. You’re a good person for doing those things even if you feel that way, Cheol.”

His blood his boiling through the exhaustion and it occurs to him that this is a perfect opportunity to unload like Minghao has been encouraging him to do for months, so he does. His hand falls from his face, landing in his lap with a hard slap. He snaps his head to you sharply. “You know, yeah. I do hate you.” He watches how your perfectly guarded expression falls, but he’s on a roll already. “I do hate you. You make yourself a fixture in my life for over two decades. You let me in after I pined for you for years. You show me what it’s like to be loved by you. And then you rip it all away and move across the world like it all meant nothing.” His elbow lands on the door frame so he can lean into his hand in frustration. “And then you waltz back in like it’s no big deal and I can’t seem to get rid of you now because you’re everywhere. If I don’t see you at work or at home or with family and friends, I still hear about you. And I was doing good without any of that! I was happy again after you ripped my fucking heart out, and now I have to see you every goddamn day. So yeah. I do hate you.”

A thing about you that he should have remembered is that you have a temper to match his. You look livid now. “First of all, Choi Seungcheol, you act like you pined alone all that time. You know you didn’t. And you’re apparently still bitter that I did something for myself for once, rather than for you. I bent over backwards for everyone for years - taking care of my brothers and Mingyu, trying to be the perfect eldest daughter for my parents, and feeding your massive fucking ego. I needed to go explore that opportunity for myself for once but you didn’t have to leave my life because of it. The phone works both ways, asshole. I may have physically left, but you’re the one that ended all communication in the first place. Second of all, I didn’t come back for you! At least, not entirely! It’s not all about you! So you can keep being happy and pretend that I don’t exist if that’s what you prefer. Because I hate you too. I hate that I still want you even though I don’t even recognize you anymore sometimes.” 

Seungcheol scoffs heatedly. “Yeah, you wanted me enough to move on to Jeonghan as soon as you got to California. And you really wanted me on New Year’s while you were making out with him in the corner. Tell me, why did you even bother breaking up with him? Or is that just what you do? You seem rather good at it, two for two. And he’s still clinging on to your every word even though you left him, but that won’t be me.”

Your jaw drops briefly before you snap it back up sharply, eyes fiery. “You know what? Jeonghan was wrong about you. He’s been encouraging me this whole time to find a way to fix things with you, but I won’t be doing that anymore. You can watch me leave all over again.” You swing the car door open, lucky that there’s no car next to you to ding up, and slam it closed hard, marching into the apartment building. Seungcheol sits in the car for who knows how long until he realizes he shouldn’t let the car run inside the parking garage like this. He wanders into his own apartment and doesn’t see or hear from you the rest of the night. 

~

The snow comes down hard throughout the night and the city can barely keep up with it. Leadership in the office send out an email blast early the next day after your fight with Seungcheol saying that the offices will be closed. You enjoy the day off by going back to sleep to try to mend your broken heart. Around noon, you take a long shower and pile up on the couch with some hot chocolate to watch TV. As luck, or the lack of rather, would have it, the power cuts off within the first episode.

You curse out loud, clumsily dropping your mug onto the coffee table. It’s still bright out given that it’s midday, but the dark corners of your apartment unnerve you. You feel childish for it, but you don’t like the dark. It’s something you’ve never grown out of. Even in your mid to late twenties, you still like to sleep with the TV on at night if only to chase away the bad dreams. 

You think about who to call. It’s not a problem right now while it’s still light out, but if the power is still out when it’s dark out, you’ll be one big ball of anxiety. But you think better of calling anyone. You need to save your phone battery and you don’t want anyone out on the road to come and get you. Not your parents. Not Wonwoo or Mingyu. None of your other friends. Seungcheol has about twenty feet to travel, but reaching out to him is out of the question and it wouldn’t matter anyway because his apartment is just as dark as yours. You take some medicine that you rarely have to touch for anxiety anymore and plop down on the couch next to the window with a book to try to pass the time. You’ll cross that bridge when you get to it. 

It’s somewhere around 5:30pm when the light is beginning to dwindle. You’re trying to get through this last chapter when there’s a knock on your door. It startles you because the silence had your ears ringing all day, and you put your hand to your chest, book forgotten. Hesitantly, you stand up and go to the door, looking through the peep hole. However, it’s dark in the hall because there are no windows (not that they would have helped much now). 

“Who is it?” You call out, checking the lock. 

“It’s me,” a masculine voice says from the other side. You want to beat your head against the door because the voice is unmistakable. 

“Go away, Seungcheol. I’m fine,” you call out.

“Prove it,” he challenges. He knows he’s won by challenging you like that, but he has the good sense to not look overly pleased by it when you do open the door. In the dim light, he actually looks concerned. “I called and texted to check on you.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “Well, I’m fine. Just reading.” Never mind that you had no idea he reached out.

“Well, your reading session is limited with the daylight fading. So get some stuff and come over to mine,” he says impatiently. 

You blanch. “Uh, why would I do that? You hate me, remember?”

In the darkness, you see him squeeze his eyes shut, looking frustrated. “Come on, Y/N. I’m trying to do something nice here,” he nearly begs. “You don’t like the dark, but at least you don’t have to be here alone. Plus, I got food and have some portable chargers for our phones.” 

“I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore,” you bite. You’re aware that you might be acting like a bit of a bitch, especially since he’s extending some kind of olive branch in the moment, but you’re still incredibly bitter about how the conversation last night ended. 

Seungcheol huffs, impatience bleeding out of him. “Y/N, that was me asking nicely. I’ll just throw you over my shoulder. You know that. Don’t test me.”

You know his threat is real, but you don’t budge. “When did you become so fucking hot and cold?” You hiss. “You hate me, and now you aren’t accepting no for an answer. Pick a lane, Seungcheol.”

“And you have yet to tell me no. You’ve just sassed, throwing things I said yesterday back in my face. So what will it be?” He snaps. 

“I don’t understand you!” You groan. “You are so fucking frustrating, Choi Seungcheol.”

He hums, looking resigned. “So be it.” Then he’s barreling into the doorway, scooping you up over his shoulder. He grabs your phone off the coffee table, stuffing it in his pocket, grabbing your keys off the hook to lock the door behind you both on the way out. What little kicking and screaming you do is over fast because you know him better than to think it will work. Your arms stay crossed when he puts you back on the ground inside his own apartment, totally unfazed by your glare. “Make yourself comfortable,” he says, handing you your phone. 

He walks farther into the apartment and you whirl around to bite back at him, but you’re surprised at the sight in the living room. Candles are lit all over the room. He does have dinner - bags of takeout that are still steaming on the coffee table. And there are many blankets on the couch. The portable chargers he mentioned are also on the coffee table, along with a few different cords. It’s… cozy, like you two are having a sleepover, something you’ve done more times than you can count. 

Seungcheol’s sitting on the couch now, splitting the takeout boxes up. He puts a few boxes in front of the spot next to him along with some chopsticks. “Broccoli beef. Come on.”

He doesn’t ask if it’s still your favorite, and your stomach grumbles loudly, so you sigh, joining him on the couch in silence. You both eat and nearly an hour passes before either of you say anything. 

You’re leaning back into the corner of the couch with one of the blankets up to your neck, staring at the wall ahead. “I don’t get you,” you mumble.

“I know,” he says softly, lacking any heat. It makes you tear up and you feel stupid for it. Still, you sniffle and you know he knows what it means. But he stays planted on his corner of the couch, matching your pose.

“I feel like I’ll never be able to get it right with you now. Not as coworkers. Not as friends. Not as anything more,” you mumble. “I don’t even know which one I’m supposed to try to get right, but I feel like I’ll always ruin everything anyway.”

Seungcheol is quiet for a long time and you almost forget you’re carrying a conversation until he speaks up again. “I don’t hate you. I should have never said that. What I meant is that sometimes I wish I did. I feel like I’m 22 all over again, getting my heart ripped out when you’re around.” You feel your chin tremble a bit at his words. “I shouldn’t have made that your problem though. Not the way I have lately anyway.”

“You know I didn’t leave without any guilt, right? Because I was drowning in it for a long time. I'm sorry for how I left things.” 

“I know,” Seungcheol whispers, sitting up to look at you. You sit up, matching his pose. “You were right last night. You needed to go to do something for yourself for once. I’m sorry my ego got in the way. I was thinking about the loss that I was about to experience and I was selfish.”

You take a deep breath, never really expecting to get an apology of any sort from him. “You had every right to be upset. I just… wanted you to be happy for me. Someday, anyway.”

“And I am,” he says solidly. “I am happy for you. That you went to the program that you wanted. That you moved back. That you might fix things with Jeonghan. I really am.”

You can’t help but give him a quizzical look. “Jeonghan? What does he have to do with this?”

Seungcheol gives you a matching quizzical look. “I… was under the impression that you guys might be getting back together. After New Year’s and all.”

You chuckle, putting your hands over your face. “Oh, yeah. That.”

“Have I misunderstood?” Seungcheol asks, confusion obvious.

“No, I guess that was the entire point. I’m not proud of it at all, but Jeonghan seemed to think that it would rile you up.” Seungcheol looks irritated even in the darkness, so you tack on an honest apology. 

“So you wanted me to be jealous?” He grinds out.

“No,” you quickly say. “I just wanted anything from you, honestly. There were a lot of things unspoken between us and I didn’t know how to get them out into the open.”

Seungcheol crooks his finger at you and you’re really helpless to not follow the instruction. You push off your blanket and sit on the cushion next to him. His finger finds your chin, holding it gently. “Well, it worked. I was jealous. Still am.” 

“Oh?” You mumble, wide eyed. There’s something about his intensity that makes you feel both shy and excited at the same time. He was somewhat possessive in the past, and it’s a little thrilling to know that he still might feel that way about you. 

He’s getting closer, creeping into your space. “I kind of hate him, actually. Wish you’d never given him a chance, because he’ll always rub it in my face.” His hand wanders from your chin, up your cheek, pushing your hair back. The touch is soft and makes you want to fold right away. It’s really totally unfair how much power he has over you. You’re reduced to a little hum in acknowledgement and he continues. “Wish you’d forget about him. I’d make you if you’d let me.”

The words spill out fast. “I’d let you do whatever.”

In the darkness, you can see Seungcheol’s eyes flare before he’s breathing a long sigh. His fingers in your hair tug lightly, pulling your head to the side. He’s crowding you, other hand wrapping around to your back, lips finding your neck delicately. Your hands find his chest, clinging to his hoodie. “I missed you.” 

The words make your eyes well up again, despite how his hand is crawling up the back of your sweatshirt and his lips are trailing up and down to the spots he knows you like. “I missed you too.”

The crack in your voice makes him lift up to meet your eyes. “If we go here again, I need you to be all in like I am. Are you?” You think he might be tearing up too, but you can’t be sure. 

“Yeah, Cheol,” you say, hands crawling up from his chest into his hair. “I’m all in.”

“Oh, thank god,” he groans, slamming his body into yours, lips finding yours. You both fall back onto the couch together and in a lot of ways it feels like you never left.

~

“You’re late.”

Minghao tries to look upset as Seungcheol rushes into the conference room for their team meeting. Luckily, Seungcheol’s supervisor isn’t in this one, just Seungcheol and his team. The others try to match the annoyance, but it doesn’t stick. They haven’t been good about looking annoyed with him in weeks. 

“Sorry, got a late start this morning,” Seungcheol excuses, pulling out his notebook and pen. 

“Date night on a Wednesday?” Seungkwan teases. “Come on, we have things to do. Save it for Friday.”

“No, Friday’s still date night. Who knows what kept him up late last night?” Chan says, though he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Seungcheol throws one of the thin coasters on the table in his direction.

“Let’s keep it professional, please,” Seungcheol says, hoping it comes out as a demand, but he knows it's more of a plea.

“Uh huh. Professional like making out with Y/N in your office in the middle of the day?” Seungkwan bites back. 

“Oh man, that was traumatizing,” Vernon chuckles. 

“He has glass doors, you think he’d be more aware of his surroundings,” Chan tacks on.

They’d known the day that everyone came back after the snow storm that something had changed and they’d refused to leave his office until they found out what it was. Seungcheol shouldn’t have been astonished by it, but they started trading money in front of him when he announced that he was official with you (again). Apparently, his behavior in meetings wasn’t the only bet they’d made. Minghao pocketed a pretty generous amount of money and was once again unfazed at the threat of going to HR. His exact words were, “okay, fire me.”

Seungcheol wouldn’t be doing that. 

But since then, they hadn’t let him breathe about much of anything. He takes two minutes extra for lunch? Must have stopped to see you. Lingers after a meeting? It’s only because you were in that meeting. Running late like today? Must be your fault. 

Still, Seungcheol is flushing about the fact that he was caught with you in his office last week, so he brings the meeting to order. He knows he’s only delaying the inevitable, but he can force them to stay on topic for the hour so he’ll do that. 

You miss each other most of the day between meetings and such, and he meets you at your office door at exactly 5pm, leaning against the door frame. You grin at him, pulling on your coat. “Hi,” you say, leaning up to kiss him. 

He pulls you in for one more. “Hi. Busy day?”

You sigh. “Yeah, what about you? Didn’t see you much.”

Seungcheol nods. “Yeah, I know. I was booked most of the day. But they can’t keep me here anymore,” he insists. 

You giggle, before looking a little pensive. “Are you sure you’re okay with just going home today?”

Seungcheol nods automatically. “Of course. I’m fine with a night in.”

“If you’re sure,” you say, but a pout has settled on your lips that he just has to kiss. 

“Stop. Pouting is my job. But really, I don’t mind. We can always go out another night.”

“If you insist,” you sigh, leading him to the elevators. 

Later that night, he’s got you curled up into his side. You both rarely sleep alone anymore. It’s all too easy to just run to the other’s apartment when it's time for bed, if you weren't together already. He debates on mentioning moving in together to save the money, but it feels too soon, so he bites his tongue. 

“Thank you for the night in,” you mumble sleepily. He’s surprised because he thought you were asleep already, but he presses a kiss to your head. 

“Of course, baby. Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

You don’t say it back, but he’ll forgive you because you really are asleep now. He whispers a little ‘I love you’ just for good measure. 

[yuwuta]

can i have ur thoughts on poly yuuji nd yuuta? i think abt it constantly since ur post abt how they act when u alr have a bf and how yuuji plays the nice guy card but is a little shit but i think he respects yuuta so i wonder how he'd act w him and how would they be in a poly 🤕

there’s always two versions of poly okkoita to me

one: you and yuuta are together, and yuuta realizes he’s got a big fat crush on yuuji and cannot be normal about it. he’s trying to be but there’s this strange mix of insecurity and lust pooling inside of him whenever he sees you with yuuji, it becomes obsessive and the center of all his fantasies. he likes that their names are similar, sometimes he hopes you’ll mistake the two of them… sometimes he hopes he’ll come home to you and yuuji making out and he wouldn’t even get mad he would just happily watch and join you two… sometimes he wonders if yuuji’s ever thought about you that way too, you guys seem to close friends, he’d have to be crazy not to want you, too, right? 

two: yuuta and yuuji are together, or at the very least, messing around with each other because neither of them know how to say that something feels incomplete between the two of them, and that that missing something is you. they both harbor so much guilt about having a crush on you despite seeing each other and they’re both so fucking terrible at hiding it, it’s a miracle it doesn’t come out sooner. there’s relief, when they both realize they like the same person, and then it’s weird for a bit… them hooking up isn’t even about them anymore, it’s about you… it’s strange, they both want the other to want you, they both want to feel you between them, they both want to watch the other get you off… they spend their time together fantasizing about you. it’s too much and not enough at the same time and even though they both want you, neither of them knows how to go about talking to you about it, and they’d both probably short circuit the first time you remotely touch them… honestly it’s overwhelmingly sweet w the two of them, and equally as suffocating once you’re between them 

[cigsaftersuh]

૮ trapped ྀིა .ᐟ

without another word, jaehyun turned and walked out of the living room, the sound of his footsteps heavier than they’d ever been. his shoulders were tight, and his breathing shallow, a mix of frustration and the overwhelming sting of everything jia had spewed out about his marriage.

“honestly, this is what happens when you rush into marriage,” she said, shaking her head. “he’s so young, so naive. getting married at his age was such a reckless decision. i don’t understand why you both allowed it.”

“allowed it?” jaehyun’s dad scoffed, his tone sharp. “jia, they’re adults. it wasn’t our decision to make, it was theirs. and you know what? they’ve been doing just fine.”

“fine?” jia’s voice pitched incredulously. “you think this is fine? him storming out like that? he can barely handle a conversation. he’s too young to carry the weight of a marriage, and y/n isn’t helping matters by running off with her friends every chance she gets.”

his dad’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone measured. “there’s nothing wrong with y/n spending time with her friends. she has every right to maintain her relationships outside of her marriage — just like jaehyun does. that’s how healthy relationships work.”

jia rolled her eyes, setting her cup down with a clink. “healthy relationships? please. they’ve barely lived life on their own. how can you call it healthy when they’ve never even experienced life apart? they’re just clinging to some childhood fantasy, and one day, it’s going to fall apart. mark my words.”

“that’s enough,” his mom snapped, her voice finally rising. “you don’t get to come into our home and tear apart our son’s life like this. jaehyun and y/n have built something solid, something real, and your constant need to belittle them says more about you than it does about them.”

but jia wasn’t finished. “oh, come on,” she said, rolling her eyes. “i’m not the bad guy here. i’m just pointing out the obvious. you let him get married too young. you let him tie himself down to someone who clearly doesn’t know what it means to be a wife yet. and now look at him, storming out of the room because he can’t handle the truth.”

“stop,” jaehyun’s dad said firmly, his voice rising. “he walked out because he’s tired of you tearing apart his life, we all are. this isn’t about honesty… it’s is about you trying to pick apart something you don’t understand.”

leaning against the hallway wall, jaehyun ran a hand through his hair. the weight of the argument taking place on the other side allowed him to hear each of the harsh words leaving the elders mouths.

did i trap her? the thought struck like a hammer, unrelenting in its force. is this what she really wants? he stared blankly ahead as the questions churned in his mind. you were out with your friends right now, probably laughing and enjoying yourself, while he was in here, replaying every word jia had thrown at him. what if she feels like she’s missing out because of me?

his throat tightened, and a lump formed he couldn’t swallow. this isn’t fair to her. maybe jia’s right... maybe we should’ve waited. maybe i should’ve given her more time to just... be her. the guilt coiled tightly around his chest, squeezing until he could barely breathe. he blinked rapidly, but the tears blurred his vision before he could stop them.

she deserves so much more than this... more than me. his jaw clenched as the thought lingered, cutting deeper each time it resurfaced. he hated the effect jia’s words had on him, how they planted seeds of doubt where there had been none before. but the guilt wouldn’t let him push it away.

he sat there, lost in his own thoughts and fighting back tears, when he suddenly heard the faint jingle of your keychains against the doorknob.

against the doorknob to his house, yet everyone knew you were always welcome. you would always be welcome, in his home, his heart, anywhere pertaining to him.

it was a sound he knew too well, one that he’d grown used to and always brought him comfort. no one else would ever make that sound at this door. only you, his wife,

the familiar noise made his heart beat faster, and before he could even register the moment, the door creaked open. he didn’t need to look up to know it was you.

the warmth of your presence flooded him like a wave, but the storm of emotions crashing inside him only grew stronger. his stomach twisted, guilt and doubt churning inside.

prev. 𐙚 next

ㅡ my forever only.

with love,

© cigsaftersuh

ʚ taglist - open ɞ

@cstarry @hyuckleberriii @beacauseimmaya @jeongjaeleftbicep @lesuneczka @cryingforjae @ctrlstar @youaremysecretworld @douqhnxtss @dearlyminhyung @jaemnationnn @jaeyunluvbot @nonverdolly

[t4tstarvingdog]

had the craziest nightmare today. hit every nightmare genre and added a new one just for me

[ghostbeam]

Sorry literally no one cares abt bebop at all but speak like a child makes me feel so much for the bebop crew (and ofc Faye in particular) but more like the group’s behavior toward her like that scene of spike ruining the vhs player is so like. He sees young Faye on the screen and realizes that’s a personal thing and this random dude who works at the electronics shop doesn’t need to see that and then AFTER jet and spike realize it’s a video of Faye they go through all that shit just to get a vhs player to watch the video at the bebop and even though they tell her she can’t watch it unless she pays the fee for it being delivered she leaves and watches from behind them (like they wouldn’t know she was there)

[asclexeposting]

sometimes i feel jealous of cisgender people but then. i dont it’s whatever man. no wait i am. i am very jealous of cisgender people in a fucked up way. what

[chiscaralight]

cw: shy!choso x reader, prone boning, college au. sukuna and gojo ver linked at the bottom!

college athlete!choso who’s an absolute beast on the field. everyone loves to watch him play, it’s almost like a movie every time he’s out for the game! he’s always ready to charge headfirst when it comes to his sport, and he won’t let anyone take it away from him.

college athlete!choso who doesn’t talk to anyone outside his teammates and a select few. it’s fair anyway, a lot of people only want to speak to him bc he’s deemed important, not like they want to know him.

college athlete!choso who’s also known for his aloof personality. but when you’re partnered up for an essay, you soon realize everyone is painfully wrong.

college athlete!choso who’s the most shy thing ever! it almost breaks your heart how he starts to stutter and avoid your eyes while you work out the details, just humming in agreement and you swear he almost passes out when you ask for his number.

college athlete!choso who’s practically about to fall off the edge of your bed, trying to sit as far away from you as possible. it’s like trying to coax a hostile cat to eat food you brought it, but with the way you’re looking at him, choso is sure he wouldn’t mind you putting him in your mouth just a bit.

college athlete!choso who finally warms up to you after a couple of evenings together. there’s still significant distance between the two of you, both physically and emotionally, but he’s more open now. he can actually hold a conversation with you now, and he thinks you’re the coolest! he can’t get you off his mind at all, whether he’s walking to the field hoping to spot you on his path, or secretly searching for you in this shared class.

college athlete!choso who jerks himself off to the thought of you after practice, making sure the locker room is empty as he moans out your name, wishing it was your hand wrapped around his cock instead.

college athlete!choso who forgets he’s supposed to meet up with you, cussing himself out when he sees your texts and missed calls. you’re super understanding though, and you tell him to take his time or you can reschedule if it’s better. but he assures you he can be there in less than ten minutes.

college athlete!choso who’s at your door in three minutes, panting and soaked. you can’t tell whether it’s from the shower water or if it’s sweat, but your eyes are more focused on the outline of his exposed arms and damp shirt clinging to his frame. he’s babbling, saying sorry for wasting your time, he ran because he couldn’t find his keys! but his apologies are hitting deaf ears, your mind is definitely on something else. and he notices.

college athlete!choso who’s eyes widen when you pout, shyly asking him to kiss you. this is something you’ve been trying to avoid since the first day he sat in your room, but it’s so hard to hold yourself back when he looks like this!

college athlete!choso who presses his back to the door, holding you in his arms while your tongues tangle. he’s moaning around your tongue, shamelessly feeling you up while you grind your front against his hardening bulge. he’s almost embarrassingly loud, but each sound he makes sends vibrations straight between your legs.

and you’d have to say the same for yourself, fingers dragging down his arms, around his neck, across his chest. but the real kicker is when you softly place your hand against his abs. he’s unconsciously flexing beneath your touch and it draws you in like magic. maybe he’d have good core strength? you’re the one who’s going to put college athlete!choso to the test.

college athlete!choso who passes your test in flying colors, prone boning you with an ease that has you seeing stars. you’re face first in the sheets, cries muffled by the pillow your head rests on while he slams into you like he hates you, much different from the way he asks if you’re okay after a couple of thrusts. you can’t even get your head up! and he’s getting worried but you guide his hand towards your neck, struggling to place your head in the crook of his elbow before telling him to squeeze.

college athlete!choso who gets off on the way your eyes roll back and your voice gets whinier. his hips falter just a bit when you call out his name in that voice, and if not for how good you felt, you would’ve teased him for the way his cock just twitched.

college athlete!choso who can’t face you in class the next day. you’re a little sad when you don’t see him, so you decide to check the field later in the day.

college athlete!choso who freezes up when he sees you waving from the stands. his teammates don’t miss his change in demeanor, and they start to laugh and nudge him in the side, teasing him about the cutie cheering him on from the bleachers.

college athlete!choso who comes up to you during their break, face still blazing hot from the exercise and the memories of you from last night. he says he would have hugged you but he’s insanely sweaty right now. not like you would’ve minded, that sweaty body was all up on yours last night like it was nothing!

college athlete!choso who gives you a nice long kiss before he leaves. trying to drown out the sounds of his team hollering at the two of you from a distance. you break the kiss with a laugh and tell him he can come over later if he wants.

college athlete!choso who forgets his keys and runs all the way to your place for the fourth time this week. he doesn’t mind though, he just thinks of it as prep for the calories he’s about to burn with you in a couple of minutes.

sukuna ver here!

gojo ver here!

geto ver here!

choso pt2 here!

[celesteleoves]

hcs of bakugou / todoroki being a hardcore simp for reader maybe?

“I WANNA BE YOURS.”

KATSUKI BAKUGOU/SHOTO TODOROKI x fem!reader.

summary: what the request said!

warnings: swearing (bakugou…), mentions of todoroki’s childhood (very brief), that’s it i believe!

a/n: i love this request. i hope i wrote this to your liking!

—

BAKUGOU KATSUKI —

he is a very subtle simp. you probably wouldn’t even think he liked you if you guys weren’t already dating. the way he shows his love for you is… questionable.

he does the simple things like following you around like a lost puppy (even though he swears he does NOT) .

he’ll definitely demand you never leave his side so he can always be there to protect you.

“you’re so weak, you need me to be there to protect you at all times.”

you’ll just nod, enjoying your boyfriends presence. (he’s actually geeking over you aswell and the fact you grace him with your presence).

he takes you everywhere with him and doesn’t care about what anyone says. oh, aizawa paired him up with kirishima? you’re coming with. you can’t stay a second away from him before he’s rushing around like a headless chicken looking for you.

your biggest fan by far, anything you do he’s practically on the floor worshipping you. then the next second he’ll be calling your outfit disgusting in the sweetest way possible.

he’ll also deny the fact he’s a simp for you. one time, kirishima caught the poor boy gazing at you, dare i say LOVINGLY, across the room as you did a mundane task.

kirishima has never grinned wider than he did when he noticed this. your boyfriend noticed the quiet chuckles leaving his friend and turned towards him.

“what the fuck are you laughing at?”

“you stalking y/n!”

“I WAS NOT STARING AT HER.” sure… liar. you literally just outed yourself…

bakugou loved you, even though he shows it in his weird, weird ways.

SHOTO TODOROKI —

the sweetest, sweetest boyfriend ever. literally the ideal boyfriend anyone could have SIMPLY because of how doting he is towards his partner.

he’s absolutely enamoured with you. he isn’t shameful about it either! (referencing one of my other head-canons) .

this boy will downright show his love for you.

we all know shoto has a hard time with social cues, he blames it on his childhood and the lack of social times he had – always being isolated.

that’s also the reason why he doesn’t understand why he can’t stare you down like a hawk and not expect people to be slightly worried… why is he staring at you like he wants to eat you?

cuteness aggression is a thing. you both get it when you’re with each other.

you can’t believe you managed to secure this boy. he never opened up to just anyone, yet for you he made an exception. you flew that all the time.

meanwhile your boyfriend is still in denial you two are dating. every time you bring up your realtionship he’s blushing like a maniac and shying away from you.

your classmates notice the little things. such as you placing your phone face up only for it to be face down a couple seconds later because todoroki fixed it for you knowing you don’t want people staring at every notification on your phone (this is so me guys i’m sorry).

he is very attentive, he’s such a simp. he’ll pick up on the little things. sometimes, you feel like he knows you better than you know yourself.

there was definitely one time you had been making yourself a snack in the kitchen, forgetting to get one of your favourite piece of food for the snack .

once your snack was made, you frowned at the missing piece of your food you wanted.

starting to get upset, you looked around for something to make up for this.

“here.” a soft voice spoke causing you to relax at the sound of todorokis gentle tone.

“i can’t find my-”

“y/n. here.”

you looked at your boyfriends hand, noticing he was holding multiple variations of the missing food item you craved.

your lips trembled at his thoughtfulness and you pulled your boyfriend in for a hug as he returned it with a soft smile on his face.

he’s too sweet for you and such a simp!

—

a/n: guys, bare with me if there is spelling errors. this was not proof-read! i hope this was good enough, it was kind of short.

SEND REQUESTS! 🤍🤍

[machveil]

I can't resist the siren call

Roommate!Simon Riley that low-key enjoys fucking with your friends Y/N

subtle foreshadowing… I suppose I can dip into my nsfw Roommate!Simon Riley thoughts

Roommate!Simon Riley who shares a laundry bin with you, it had been agreed a long time ago that just doing a big load would be easier. you takes turns, knowingly stealing each other’s clothes every couple days when the laundry is fresh out the machine. you know Simon took an oversized t-shirt you owned, but that’s okay, you took his favorite gym hoodie

Roommate!Simon Riley who doesn’t get embarrassed about his underwear being in the bin with yours, it’s all going in the machine anyways. that doesn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow though when his favorite boxers go missing. he was sure he put them in with the dirties, well, the cleans now. he figures the machine ate it, or maybe they’ll show up some day by chance - he shrugs it off and separates his clothes from yours, snagging one of your oversized sweaters to lounge in later

Roommate!Simon Riley who freezes when he sees you on the couch that night. eyes wide and jaw slack, he can’t bring himself to move. sat watching something on the tv - he can’t be bothered to acknowledge whats playing - he stares at you, wearing his boxers as shorts. “Hey, come watch this— I’ll catch you up since it just started. I’m not pausing it though so you better pay attention.”, your words are all in one ear and out the other. suddenly his legs are moving on their own, stopping in front of you. he doesn’t register what you’re saying, telling him to move because you can’t see the tv, but then he speaks

Roommate!Simon Riley whose voice is deliciously deep, a little raspy from how his throat suddenly feels dry, “S’that mine?”, he asks, eyeing his boxers. he’s never had such a hard time swallowing before, heartbeat erratic as you casually respond, “Huh— oh, yeah. They’re really comfy, the fabrics nice.”. fabrics nice, yeah, he knows. “You— ya know those are boxers, right love?”, he asks, hands twitchy as you reply, “Mhm, just borrowin’ them.”

CW: guilty wank, man is hopeless [kisses his cheek]

Roommate!Simon Riley who’s a mess after that interaction. you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, but he’s losing it on the inside. he’s seen you be audacious with stealing his clothes before, taking his loose-fit tank tops that left little to the imagination on you, stealing clothes you knew he favored and parading around in them, but his boxers? that had him stalking back to his room, quick to turn on his heel before you could see his pants tent

he’s sweating, closes the door to his room a little harder than he meant to. god, he wants to go back out there and see you again, get an eyeful of how comfortable you looked - wearing his boxers like they were yours. you wouldn’t know, and he can’t help but think about it, but you had stolen his favorite pair. they’re plain, a simple black pair, something he bought at the store because he needed new underwear. but when you wear them? they suddenly looked different, makes his heart hammer against his chest. it feels like he walked out into the living room and you wearing lingerie, not something he got for fifteen pounds

he feels a little guilty, shoving his jeans down his thighs as he sits down on his bed. you’re home, sat in the living room just down the hall, and here’s Simon fishing his leaky cock out of his underwear. he really shouldn’t, he should sneak into the bathroom for a cold shower, think about war and blood and bullets to get his boner down. but he isn’t, he’s spitting into his palm and groaning, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth - he’s never been good about keeping quiet. it’s not his fault you were out there wearing his clothes, you were the one that decided to look so— so cozy and content in your makeshift shorts. domestic

when that word settles at the forefront of his brain Simon’s hips jerk, you looked domestic, wanting to watch some show with him. his leg jolts slightly, hand moving to shallowly pump his weeping head. maybe your friends are right, Simon does take care of you - could bend you over and make you sob his name - he’s basically your boyfriend, often mistaken for your husband. his thighs tense when he imagines a ring on your finger— no, his dog tags hanging from your neck— god, holding you at night as an actual couple—

he’s choking out a moan, muffled and hoarse, as he coats his hand. eyes fluttering shut and breathing heavily, all his thoughts fly out the window as his cum drips down his fingers - all his thoughts except for one. he’s going to have to go back out there later to eat dinner with you, and oh, fuck, he sucks in a deep breath as he chubs up again

[lovelyghst]

ex-boyfriend simon riley making you admit you still love him if you wanna cum <3

he can be such a jerk sometimes! calling you up one evening, claiming he was just wanting to check in on you and how you know how overbearing protective he can be sometimes, acting surprised when you snapped at him barely after his greeting.

“what has you so frustrated, hm, dove?… christ, can practically feel you seethin’ through the screen.”

you bit your tongue and gave him the truth over the phone; how he shouldn’t be calling you without warning like this considering you’ve broken up, and it’s inappropriate to be labeling you those sweet pet names you unfortunately and unknowingly still adore deep down.

how you don’t appreciate his abrasive bluntness, then again, he should know very well that you never have liked that part about him.

you told him the truth, though you couldn’t be entirely honest with him, in the sense of how fucking needy you’ve become with his absence. for touch and care, proximity and security, and all that.

but you are over him, undoubtedly, and you let him know that.

“yeah, baby, whatever you say…

…bet you rub that little cunt raw every night thinkin’ve me.”

and that shut you up quick.

he hummed in understanding, like your silence was readable.

“poor girl prob’ly hasn’t had any proper attention since i’ve been gone… shame such a pretty thing has to be so neglected, eh?”

butterflies invaded your tummy at the compliment, and you cursed yourself for your hasty, blind acceptance of it. but you can't blame yourself; what girl wouldn’t at least begin to crumble at that voice?

“i’m right, yeah?” he taunted, and it almost made you sick when you caught yourself rubbing your thighs together at his meanness.

“c’mon, sweetheart… you know you can be honest wi’ me.”

and god, was his cocky tone so infuriating; you wanted to reach through the phone and slap his smug face straight for overstepping your relationship’s boundaries so blatantly, and with such a deeply rooted nonchalance in his voice that always had you heated and wet.

“say the word, ‘nd i’ll come over and fuck you right now.”

…which is why you had eventually asked him oh, so nicely:

“please..?”

you could practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face, followed by the faint noises of boots hitting hardwood floor and then the clicking of a door’s lock, the obnoxious ringing of keys clanging together.

“just give me ten minutes, doll.”

and now, as he bullies and buries his cock deep in your warm cunt, reaching all those sweet spots you or another man could never even come close to, you can’t really think much of his misbehavior.

truthfully, you can’t think much of anything at all, at the moment.

he had teased you prior to finally managing his way inside you, for god knows how long. his mouth, his fingers, his cockhead; all had brought you to the edge rather quickly, over and over after each other, but he was yet to give you that final push.

he puts his full body’s weight on you, strong pecs pressed up against your heaving, sensitive tits, and his stubble tickling your neck unceasingly. you can’t stop squirming and writhing beneath him, and his hot groans right up against your skin aren’t helping, either.

it’s always been a feat taking his cock, being crammed in your precious cunt almost every night when you two were together, but now it’s been weeks, and you nearly forgot just how big he was.

you missed it, admittedly. all of it; the veins and ridges, the unforgiving stretch. the slight twinge of pain he always hushed with his fingertips pressing your swollen, little clit, or a calloused thumb shoved between your puffy lips to suck on and drool over to distract yourself.

you missed his stamina, his libido. most striking of all, his selflessness in the entire act. he’s a soldier, he serves you right. most times.

“fuckin’ christ, sweetheart… missed this tight, messy thing wrapped ‘round my cock… practically stranglin’ me ‘n with no remorse, eh?”

shit, and you missed his dirty talk most of all.

“gonna fill this pretty, little pussy… keep ‘er happy all night, make up for lost time with my girl.” he wraps his hand gently around your jaw, making your eyes meet his. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you nod frantically, swallow as best you can, before sucking in a breath. “yeah— yes, please, si… i-i want it really bad… please.”

he kisses your lips with a smile, and then all over the side of your face, up to your forehead. he just can’t seem to stop kissing you.

“tell me, sweetheart. y’wanna cum, too?”

“i do, si—! i really, really do- fuck, please?” you beg and beg, and as much as it turns him on, digs at his heart to just give in, he sticks to his guns and merely adds:

“then say the words, pretty girl,” he coos, making you whimper in frustration. “that’s it, y’know what i wanna hear.”

you huff a whine in response, albeit your breath is strangled when he doesn’t halt his movements for even a second.

you really, really don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

he’s nearly panting himself, big chest and even bigger shoulders rolling upwards with every thrust. “y’ain’t cummin’ til i hear you say it, baby. c’mon, now. jus' admit it, that you still love me.”

he buries his cock to the very hilt, taking your slackened jaw tighter in his hand as he watches your eyes grow even hazier from his pelvis rubbing up against your vulnerable, needy clit. the stern look he gives you tells you he's serious about his last statement, but you'll later swear you sensed a bit of sadness, even despair in his expression.

“i love—” you choke on your own breath, desperate to sputter out the words. “i love you, si…”

and he practically has hearts in his eyes. “you mean it?”

“yes—! yes i do, i promise i still love you, please,” you spill, sounding closer to a temper tantrum than anything. “just lemme cum, please, si… really need it, please, i-i’ve been good...”

he hums lowly, contented, satisfied for once. as if those three words themselves — i love you — are the ones actually stroking his fucking cock. his ego maybe, you’d think, but jesus.

if you knew just how badly off he was beforehand, you never would’ve let him get this cocky and in control.

“love you too, sweetheart.” he kisses your puffed out lips, wipes a tear you hadn’t even noticed was trickling down your cheekbone. “always been my good, patient girl, haven’t ya?”

you nod once more, pinched brows and bleary eyes doubling in severity at his soft tone. simon praising you and being so, so uncharacteristically sweet has always made you fawn after more, even now. especially now.

“tha’s right, baby, you’re my good girl… now do me a favor and cum on my cock for me, yeah? lemme feel every last bit of ya.”

he ultimately resumes moving inside you, and it makes you wonder when he ever even stopped. your brain shuts off when he snakes a hand between your bodies, smoothing over your tummy before his middle and ring fingers quickly find your tortured, little bud. pressing hard, making you writhe with oversensitivity.

he works you over the edge diligently, and embarrassingly fast on your part, taking into account just how long he had edged you for. the sight and sweet noises you make are a dream; a reality he awfully missed, and something no other girl could compete with.

"that's it... easy, sweetheart," he coos softly.

he gives you a moment to come down from your high, softly palming your throbbing cunt to assist in grounding you, but you're barely able to finish catching your breath before he's doing it all over again! resuming flicking at your clit, rubbing you harshly and overstimming you enough to make you fruitlessly jolt and cry out beneath him.

he frowns down at you, damn-near condescending. "again, for me?"

you twitch and moan relentlessly as he gradually coaxes another orgasm from your tuckered body, his cockhead hitting that part deep enough inside you to make you see stars, his hard abdomen pressed against your tummy making the pressure of it all skyrocket tenfold.

the sensation of you finishing around his length once more has him barreling into his own orgasm, and soon fucking his pent up cum deep into your cunt with a few hard thrusts and a grumbled, broken groan right at your temple.

endless praises spill from his lips as everything becomes a blur for you; from the moment he's pulling out of your used cunt—crawling down and giving it and your pretty tits a couple sloppy kisses before briskly redressing himself—to being coddled in bed and squished between his muscular arms and torso.

he holds you so close to him that it makes you wonder why, or even how you could ever turn your back to it. he truly makes you feel like a spoiled doll in this sort of space. a doll with shaky legs, ruined makeup, and half a conscious.

"remind me why we broke up again?" he chimes.

you groan aloud, burying your face somehow further in his chest. "shut up, simon."

he laughs softly, pestering you with even more quick kisses, one after another to the crown of your skull. large hands rubbing up and down your back, moving to knead at your ass and thighs for a short moment. he just loves touching you so much.

“c’mon, pretty girl. let’s go get you cleaned up,” he mutters with an exhale. "how's a hot bath sound?"

you have no time to interject, other than a displeased pout and shake of your head, before you’re being hoisted up on your wobbly legs, then swept up and carried to your restroom when you couldn’t even make it three steps before your knees began to buckle on you.

you’re dizzy, utterly dazed and half asleep as he bathes you. making sure you don’t lift a finger as he works, treating you as nothing less than a princess. your loosened muscles somehow melt even more with his precise touch and strength, and you remember just how much you love being turned utterly numb and dependent on him.

you’re pretty sure you fell asleep the moment you were wrapped in a warm towel, pulled into the strong embrace of his meaty arms, but something he said moments beforehand had stuck with you.

“hey,” he whispered, soapy hand turning you to face him. he leaned in and kissed the area between your brows. “i’ll be better this time.”

“you promise?” you mumbled. your head fell atop your knees, arms wrapped around your legs and keeping them close to your body.

your extended pinky finger made him chuckle a bit, and he quickly looped his own around yours. solidifying his words. “promise.”

[tbaluver]

hello! I hope you're having a nice day ✨

can I request LADS men reaction to MC sending them videos of their baby like it's either them saying their first words or anything adorable since the men are away from home for quite a while and MC and their baby misses them ehe (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Sending Them Baby Videos When They're Away- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff c/w: for sylus there's mention of him using his evol to x_x someone, no gore tho a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ this was such a cute concept to write and i had to write this immediately (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) ‧º but i dunno if i did this justice so if it didnt, you alr know just pretend this doesn't exist ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) anyways them as papas are such a cute concept i have so much of it in my drafts that i'll post soon ): enjoy reading and have a nice day or night anonnie ! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He was sent away for a mission for a couple days due to fluctuations of Wanderers in the area. Unfortunately if he was by himself, it wouldn’t have taken days but his teammates were dragging him down.

His phone chimes, signaling a notification from you. Opening his phone he sees a video you had sent him.

“Rahhh!!” Your son squeals, hitting his toy sword at your plushies that you both won a couple years ago. Your laughter was in the background, making his lips tug into a smile. He missed you both as he watched the video. He was quick to text you back.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎: is he protecting mommy

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎: it seems i have taught him well

He clicked off his phone, determination bursting through him. He wants to go back home. The warmth of your laughter and the sight of your son, drove him forward. This mission dragged on way too long, he was going to finish this himself.

He moved swiftly, slashing his sword with precision. The hours flew by as well as the number of Wanderers. Without any word to his teammates from the mission, he headed out. He couldn’t wait to see the look on you and your son's face when he walked through the door.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎:  i’m on my way home now. does our son need a partner to protect you?

Zayne:

Zayne isn’t easily distracted except when it comes to you and a box of macaroons. Now if it was you and a box of macaroons that would be a deadly combo.

During his meetings or when he’s about to head into a surgery, he always lets you know if he’s occupied so you know he won’t be able to reply right away. But right after all of that is over, he’ll immediately check his phone for you and ignore any of his notifications.

But when he’s in his office, the moment he receives a message from you, he can’t help but glance away from the reports he needs to file or send over to the nurses. Your messages always pull him in no matter what.

He unlocks his phone and is instantly met with another cute video of your baby daughter. She’s wearing his freshly clean white coat, which she had pulled from the laundry basket. She’s also wearing his oversized shoes that are comically too big for her tiny feet. “Papa!” She squeals, her face lighting up with a silly smile as she looks into the camera.

A soft laugh escapes his lips and he can’t help but replay the video a couple more times, his heart melting each time. It’s as if he can hear her giggles through the screen. With a wide smile curling up on his lips, he texts you back.

☃︎ ♡: How adorable. I think we need to get her one that’s her size

☃︎ ♡: I have one more break after I finish this report. I can call you both when I finish.

☃︎ ♡: I’ll finish up my work quickly so I can get home sooner.

Rafayel:

He didn’t want to be at this art exhibition, or quite frankly any art exhibition if you weren’t there. All he could think about was being home with you and the babies. Leaving them behind felt like one of the hardest things he could ever do.

You sent him a cute and chaotic video while he was away. “Quick, show daddy what you just did!” you exclaimed, as you aimed the camera at your baby waving a crayon clumsily in their tiny hands while you cheered with enthusiasm. “Glub! gub gub!”

He couldn’t help but let out a wide smile, his little baby was going to be just like their papa, an artist in the making and even better they were learning Glubglubnese. The video ends up with your other baby blowing bubbles to their sibling and they start wailing.

Watching the video, his heart ached with longing for his family. He was a father. He was your husband and he shouldn’t have to miss out on all these precious moments he has wanted with you for a long time. He wanted to be there in person and experience the joy with you.

He texts you while making long strides to the exit, ignoring all the reporters and critics that tried to approach him.

𓆟:  tell them to stop being cute until i get back

𓆟: cutie im on my way

𓆟: i miss you and my little glub glubs

𓆟: getting the fastest plane ticket there rn

𓆟: see you soon cutie ( ˘ ³˘)

Sylus:

He was away for another business deal for a couple of days, a business deal that shouldn’t have taken this long and Sylus was getting irritated. “Mr. Sylus, we’re really sorry! Please give us a couple more days! We don’t know what happened to half of the inventory!” The man begged with desperation on his face but Sylus did not have the time for a couple more days.

Before Sylus could respond, his phone chimed with a familiar notification. He raises a finger, signaling for a moment while Luke and Kieran keep the restricted men distracted.

Opening his phone, he was met with an adorable video of your baby daughter. She was dressing up Mephisto in her doll clothes, her giggles flooding through the speakers of his phone. “Caw....” Mephisto caws defeatedly, his head drooping down. “Caw! caw!” Your daughter squeals, her laughter and yours was infectious as she lifts him up in the air, dashing around the living room with pure joy.

He couldn’t help but chuckle, a smile tugging at his lips as he watches the video. Once he clicked off his phone, a sigh escaped his lips. His heart ached with so much longing for you both and he couldn’t bear missing even more precious moments with you and your baby girl.

As Luke and Kieran snicker, stepping aside, crimson swirls began to surround the men, slowly suffocating them until they vanished into thin air.

“Send their team another warning. We’re going home.”

𓅪: The business deal is finally finished. I apologize for the wait, sweetie.

𓅪: I’ll call you both before I get on the plane. I hope I didn't miss much.

𓅪: I'll pick up more doll clothes for her on my way back.

Once he was in his private jet he couldn’t wait to have you and his baby girl in his arms again.