#companies will take it as all attention is good attention

[syoddeye]

simon doesn't pursue people, he operates more like a one-man strike team. his approach to human connection is transactional, pragmatic, a matter of logistics.

on the rare occasion he's looking for company, he wants someone easy, who won't fuss when he introduces them to a thin motel mattress. won't ask what he does for work or try to make plans for the morning. won't bother him about 'next time'. nothing long-term. no strings.

he doesn't have a 'type' so much as a protocol: pick someone malleable, pliant, and preferably on the pill.

then you start working at his local.

the first time he sees you, he doesn't notice much beyond the basics: efficiency, attentiveness, pouring pints and bantering with the regulars with aplomb. by the second or third time, he's paying closer attention. you're not just good at your job—you're quick, always three steps ahead of the chaos. you give out smiles left and right, but it's more muscle memory than genuine warmth. and you're clever, too. funny, even, when someone manages to earn your attention for longer than a transaction.

you could probably keep up with his humor. go toe-to-toe.

you're off-limits, though. that's the rule. bartenders are switzerland—neutral territory. don't shit where you eat. it's a system that works, so long as he doesn't let himself think too much about the view when you lean over the counter or the lilt of your voice when you ask what he's having tonight.

then one evening, you take another man's number. some leering idiot, too comfortable with inserting himself into your space, grinning like he's cracked your code because you haven't humbled him. simon doesn't react, not outwardly. he nurses his drink and watches as you smile, slip the napkin into your pocket, and turn back to the bar.

but that's when you become a problem.

he tells himself it doesn't matter, that it's nothing. he doesn't want a number or a date. but the thought of someone else having you—someone who doesn't know what to do with a woman like you—it's a splinter buried just deep enough to keep him thinking about it. irritating, prone to fester.

how to approach you, though? he can't be as direct as he'd like, can't pin you down with a look or crass words. no way to corner you when you're safe behind the counter, or disappearing through a staff door. hanging around until you're off would be pathetic. dog behavior, he thinks, with a twinge of contempt for the mental image. he's got too much self-respect for that, at least.

no, he's got to actually make an effort. use his words.

the next time he comes in, he waits. no more corner tables or watching from afar. he sits close, pretends not to notice how your hands look slicing a lime. he orders his usual and tries not to overthink your tone when you set it down in front of him.

"you alright?"

you reach for his card, fingers pinching the plastic, but he holds on, smirking when you tug and then huff.

this is the moment. his moment. the one he's been building toward in his head for days. but there's a hitch, a blip in his usual confidence, and he fumbles. he blames your perfume.

"so…you come here often?"

not what he meant to say, but not the worst.

the shockwave of his nuclear-level failure doesn't register until your lips twitch, and it finally sinks in. his eyes widen a fraction as the realization lands. oh, he's fucked it. all his rehearsing, for nothing.

"…yeah," you say, voice flat, a single brow raised as you gesture vaguely toward the bar around you. "i work here?"

his mouth dries, but his face doesn't change. he doesn't fight it when you pull the card out of his grasp. there's the barest glint of something in your eyes—amusement, maybe, or pity. he's not sure which is worse.

you turn away to ring him up, but when you glance back, he's gone.

next

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: Your life together with them🩵

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Kang Dae Ho x Reader(f), Thanos (Su Bong) x Reader(f), Park Gyeong Seok x Reader(f), Nam Gyu x Reader(f)

Summary: various joint situations when you live with them.

A/N: I apologize for writing a little less often!

🩵🩵🩵

Cho Hyun Ju

Since the girl served in the army and got used to discipline, she will follow it while living with you. She always wakes up much earlier than you, about three hours, where you can sleep until 9-10 a.m., in some cases even before lunch if you get very tired. While you are sleeping, Hyun Ju will do a lot of things around the house (quietly so as not to wake you up), cook you a delicious breakfast and go to wake you up.

She will do it gently and carefully, stroking and kissing you wherever she wants. You sometimes grumble and tell her to lie down and sleep with you in a hug, but it doesn't affect her, so she continues to wake you up with kisses.

- Baby, it's time to get up, your favorite breakfast is already getting cold. And we have a lot to do. - she says gently, kissing your sweet lips.

After a couple of minutes, you still wake up and sleepily go to eat what your Hyunnie has prepared for you with love.

Kang Dae Ho

The guy has a lot of fun living with you. After all, you have new ideas almost every day. Again, recently you wanted to lose weight by the summer, you decided to run every morning. But it wasn't very good alone, so you forced your boyfriend to join you.

- So you want us to wake up at 7 a.m. on our weekend and run down the street when normal people will sleep? - he didn't understand at all why you need it, because you were beautiful.

- And you will run with me for the company! - Dae Ho only had to agree, he didn't want to offend you.

And he knew that soon you would get tired of it and you would throw away this idea, so he decided to be patient.

Thanos (Su Bong)

You and the guy were complete opposites to each other. It was especially seen with household items. Su Bong was dirty. He constantly left his clothes all over the apartment: socks in the corners, clothes were lying on the backs of chairs. You were very unhappy with it, okay, unwashed dishes, but these are extremes.

- Can you stop scattering your clothes? Can't you put the clean ones in the closet, and throw the dirty ones in the laundry. I'm tired of cleaning up after you like a little child. - you mumbled when you removed his clothes from the chair again, while he was sitting on the phone.

- Yes, yes, good. - he said without much attention.

- If this happens again, all your things will fly to the trash!

- I got it, just don't be angry, my baby. - he put down the phone and started cleaning everything, then you rewarded him with a kiss.

But he won't be able to get used to it, so he'll still leave his things, but he's ready to clean up for your extra kisses.

Park Gyeong Seok

The three of you lived in a small apartment: you, your future husband and his daughter Na Yeon. Since the girl was undergoing treatment, she often stayed at home. But you and the man didn't want her to be alone, so you decided to take a housework and sit with Na Yeon.

You and the girl played a lot of her favorite games. She is very attached to you and even calls you mom.

When a man comes home from work, the girl asks him to join you and he, though tired, agrees, because he can't refuse his beloved girls.

Sometimes you and the girl like to mock him, so you can make up him with different makeup.

- Dad now a real princess! - said Na Yeon when she painted Gyeong Seok with children's cosmetics, you just laughed at this whole situation and at the face of a man who was both grumpy and smiling.

Nam Gyu

The guy loves cats very much, but since you both work a lot, you can't get a pet yet, but Gyu really wants to, so he started feeding street cats.

He thinks there's nothing wrong with that, but he was wrong. The cats are used to the fact that the guy began to feed them and they began to come to your house en masse, meowing and asking for food.

When you saw this, you were furious, you immediately called the guy and he had a shy face, he knew what was going on.

- Gyu, do you want to explain to me what's going on with cats here?

- Well... I fed them a little, it looks like they got used to it.. - you looked at him with an evil face, although you understood that he not on purpose.

- Now you will clean up after them, so that there is not a single shit from them! - you said and entered the house, he only agreed with you.

After this situation, the guy began to feed these pets less often, and you began to think that maybe you would give Nam Gyu a kitten.

🩵🩵🩵

[blondemrk]

hellooo could i request a 7dream reaction fic? how they would react if their partner was getting hit on - but before they can do anything, y/n's already fighting back at the creep LMAO

°˖ reaction to their partner being hit on ១

p nctdream × fem!reader w.c 4.6k t.w suggestive.

mark

mark had been keeping an eye on you from the start of the night. it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you—he did completely—but he knew how people could get, especially in a crowded place like this. while chatting with the others, he made sure to glance in your direction every now and then, his protective instincts always on alert.

it was during one of those quick glances that he noticed the guy approach you. leaning casually against the bar, the stranger’s smirk was all too familiar—the type of confidence that reeked of entitlement. mark’s grip tightened on his drink as he watched the interaction unfold.

"you are so gorgeous," the guy began, his tone dripping with rehearsed charm. "how about i buy you a drink?"

mark’s body stiffened. he sat forward, ready to intervene, but before he could even get up, he heard your voice cut through the air.

"wow, how original," you said dryly, not bothering to mask your sarcasm. "no thanks—i’m fine without the drink, and without you."

mark couldn’t help but smirk a little at your boldness. still, he stayed on high alert, watching the guy’s reaction.

the man chuckled nervously, trying to play it cool. "don’t be like that. i’m just trying to be nice."

you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms in front of you. "if you were being nice, you’d take the hint and walk away. but since you’re still here, let me make it even clearer: i’m not interested. go bother someone else who has the patience to deal with your nonsense."

mark stood up, his jaw tightening as he made his way toward you. the guy still hadn’t moved, clearly not taking your words seriously. by the time mark reached you, the tension was palpable. he stepped in without hesitation, placing a protective hand on your waist.

"she said she’s not interested," mark said firmly, his tone calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. "i think it’s time for you to leave."

the guy’s eyes flicked to mark, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue. but one glance at mark’s unflinching expression and his broad frame was enough to change his mind. muttering something under his breath, the man finally turned and disappeared into the crowd.

mark’s gaze followed him until he was out of sight before he turned his attention back to you. his hand stayed on your waist as his eyes softened, his concern now fully focused on you. "are you okay?" he asked, his voice low but gentle.

you smirked, brushing it off like it was nothing. "he was annoying. i wasn’t going to let him ruin my night."

mark let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he cupped your cheek with his free hand. his thumb brushed against your skin, his admiration for you clear in his eyes. "you handed that so well. i still don’t want anyone bothering my girl again tonight," he murmured, his voice dropping to a tender tone. "how about you stick with me for the rest of the night, hm?"

you smiled, leaning into his touch as the tension from the encounter melted away. "sounds like a good plan to me," you said softly, your confidence still shining through.

mark smiles, leaving a kiss on your forehead. "lets go. i'll buy you a drink instead beautiful"

renjun

renjun is the observant type, and tonight is no exception. while the others are engrossed in their conversations, he’s casually scanning the room, his sharp eyes picking up on the subtle shifts in the crowd. that’s when he notices him—the guy standing a little too close to you at the bar. renjun’s easy smile falters as he watches the man lean in, his body language screaming overconfidence.

"you look like someone who appreciates good company," the guy says, his tone dripping with smugness.

renjun sets down his drink, the tightening of his jaw the only indication of his irritation. he’s already preparing to intervene, his mind running through possible ways to defuse the situation, but then he hears your response—sharp and cutting, with no room for misunderstanding.

"good company?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow. "is that what you think you are? because all i see is someone who doesn’t know how to read the room."

the guy laughs nervously, clearly not expecting such a blunt rejection. he tries to play it cool, his smirk faltering but still present. "wow, okay. feisty. i like that."

you let out a dry laugh, your expression turning colder. "you liking something about me doesn’t mean i owe you my time. so why don’t you take that ‘good company’ somewhere else before you embarrass yourself further?"

renjun can’t hide the smirk that tugs at his lips as he watches the guy flounder. by now, renjun has made his way to your side, standing just behind the man with his arms crossed. the subtle shift in your expression when you notice him doesn’t go unnoticed by renjun, and he takes that as his cue to step in.

"is there a problem here?" renjun asks, his voice calm but carrying a quiet authority that instantly shifts the energy. the guy freezes, caught off guard by renjun’s sudden presence.

the creep mutters something unintelligible—an excuse, an apology, maybe both—before hastily backing off and disappearing into the crowd. renjun’s gaze lingers on him for a moment, ensuring he’s truly gone before he turns his attention back to you.

"you know," renjun begins, his tone light but tinged with amusement, "i was ready to step in, but you didn’t even give me a chance."

you shrug, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you pick up your drink. "he was annoying. i just wanted him gone. no need to waste time entertaining nonsense."

renjun chuckles softly, his eyes glinting with admiration. he places his hands on your waist, rubbing his thumb in circles on your skin. "remind me to never get on your bad side, y/n. you’re scary when you want to be."

you roll your eyes playfully, leaning back against the bar. "you? getting on my bad side? that would require you to actually be annoying, renjun. and you’re… well, tolerable."

renjun lets out a mock gasp, clutching his chest dramatically. "tolerable? i’ll take that as a compliment"

you laugh, the tension from the earlier interaction melting away as you fall into an easy rhythm with renjun. but while his expression is light, his actions are more telling. for the rest of the night, he stays close to you—not hovering, but always within reach.

every now and then, he throws a teasing comment your way, something to make you laugh and forget the earlier encounter. but he also keeps a sharp eye on your surroundings, his observant nature ensuring that no one else gets the bright idea to approach you uninvited.

at one point, when someone brushes past you a little too closely, renjun instinctively steps forward, his hand lightly grazing your back as he murmurs, "you okay?"

you nod, offering him a reassuring smile. "yeah im okay dont worry.."

he smirks, leaning just close enough for you to hear over the music. "i know. but it doesn’t hurt to me here does it?"

he smiles, pulling you towards him. "cant have anyone taking you away from me now can i?"

jeno

jeno notices the creep the moment they approach you. he’s been keeping an eye on you all night, watching from a short distance to make sure you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself. but the way this guy slides into your space, leaning in like he owns the world, sets off every protective instinct in jeno’s body.

the man’s body language screams entitlement, his smirk almost as irritating as his words. "come on, don’t play hard to get. you know you’re enjoying this," the guy says, his tone dripping with arrogance.

jeno’s fists clench at his sides, his jaw tightening as he begins to move toward you, but before he can reach you, he hears your sharp, unwavering voice cut through the noise.

"enjoying this? oh, absolutely," you say, spinning around to face the guy. your tone is laced with sarcasm, your expression unflinching. "who wouldn’t enjoy being harassed by someone who clearly can’t take a hint?"

the guy blinks, clearly caught off guard by your boldness. his confidence wavers for a moment before he tries to recover, plastering on a smug grin. "you don’t have to be so mean, sweetheart. i’m just saying you’re beautiful. no need to get so worked up."

your eyes narrow, the irritation in your gaze enough to make jeno pause in admiration. he loves seeing you stand your ground, but his protective instincts are still on overdrive. he continues toward you, his strides purposeful, but you’re not finished yet.

taking a deliberate step closer to the guy, you tilt your head slightly, your tone colder now. "and i’m just saying that your ‘compliments’ are unwelcome. so why don’t you do yourself a favor and walk away before i call someone to escort you out? or do you want everyone here to see just how pathetic you are?"

the guy’s smirk falters completely, his bravado slipping under your unwavering glare. he stammers, clearly unsure of how to respond. that’s when jeno finally steps in, his presence looming as he positions himself between you and the guy.

placing a firm hand on the guy’s back, jeno grabs a fistful of the man’s shirt, yanking him a step back from you. his voice is calm, but there’s no mistaking the steel in his tone. "you heard my girlfriend. leave. now."

the guy mutters something under his breath—an attempt at saving face—but jeno doesn’t care enough to listen. he gives him a little push toward the crowd, watching as the creep quickly disappears into the sea of people, his arrogance now replaced by embarrassment.

turning back to you, jeno’s expression softens immediately. his shoulders relax as he takes in the way you’re still standing tall, a slight smirk tugging at your lips. he lets out a low chuckle, the tension in his body easing now that the guy is gone. "hey, baby," he murmurs, stepping closer to you. "you okay?"

you smile, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as you meet his gaze. "of course. i wasn’t going to let him get away with that."

jeno grins, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you into his arms. he holds you tightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head before leaning back just enough to meet your eyes. "you’re incredible, you know that? but next time, let me handle it, okay? i don’t want you stressing over anything. that’s my job."

you roll your eyes playfully, but your smile is warm as you rest your hands on his chest. "i wasn’t stressing. i’ve dealt with worse. but i’ll admit, watching you swoop in like that was kind of hot."

jeno laughs, the sound low and warm as he leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "oh, so you liked the whole knight-in-shining-armor thing? good to know. i’ll make sure to keep that energy up."

you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. "just don’t make a habit of fighting people for me. i can handle myself."

jeno nods, his grin softening into something more genuine. "i know you can. that’s one of the things i love about you. but still… i’ll always have your back, no matter what."

the rest of the night, jeno stays close, his protective streak on full display. whether it’s his hand resting on your lower back or his occasional glances around the room, it’s clear he’s not letting anyone else get the chance to bother you. but he also keeps the mood light, teasing you about your sharp comebacks and making you laugh with his playful antics.

and every time you catch him looking at you, his gaze is filled with pride and admiration, as though he’s constantly reminded of just how incredible you are.

haechan

haechan doesn’t need much time to notice the creep bothering you. his sharp ears pick up on the guy’s overly confident tone from across the room, and he immediately shifts his focus to you. without hesitation, he starts making his way over, his trademark smirk already in place and his sharp wit at the ready.

"you’ve got such an attitude, but i kind of like it," the guy says, his smirk radiating arrogance as he inches closer.

but before haechan can say anything, you’re already taking control of the situation. you cross your arms, your expression unamused, your words cutting like a knife. "an attitude? oh, you mean standards? yeah, i have those. clearly, you don’t meet them."

the guy’s smirk falters, his overconfidence wavering for a split second. he tries to recover, forcing a nervous laugh as he leans back slightly. "come on, i’m just joking around. don’t take it so seriously."

you tilt your head, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you respond. "oh, i’m sorry. was i supposed to laugh? next time, try saying something funny."

the guy’s face twists in frustration, clearly not expecting you to shut him down so effortlessly. by now, haechan is standing behind you, silently observing with an amused grin. he takes his time stepping into the conversation, waiting for just the right moment to make his presence known.

throwing an arm around your shoulders with practiced ease, haechan leans in slightly, his tone playful yet undeniably assertive. "my girlfriend is funny, isn’t she? honestly, you should’ve just taken notes and walked away before embarrassing yourself."

the guy glares at haechan, muttering something under his breath before finally turning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd, thoroughly defeated.

haechan watches him leave, his grin widening as he turns back to you. his eyes sparkle with amusement, his pride in you clear. "that was hilarious," he says, rubbing your shoulders lightly. "you didn’t even give him a chance to breathe."

you shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips. "he deserved it. the second he opened his mouth, i knew he wasn’t worth wasting any energy on."

haechan lets out a loud laugh, his hands slipping down to your sides as he rubs them in soothing circles. "next time, though," he teases, his tone shifting to something a little more serious, "let me handle it, okay? i don’t even want you to look at another man, much less waste your energy shutting him down."

you raise an eyebrow, giving him a playful nudge. "you think i need you to fight my battles for me?"

he shakes his head, leaning closer until your noses almost touch. his voice drops, his tone softer now. "nah, i know you’ve got it handled. but it’s my job to protect you, even if it’s just from some loser who doesn’t know how to mind his business."

you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck. "fine. next time, i’ll let you take the lead. but don’t expect me to hold back if he says something stupid."

haechan chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "deal. you can handle the insults; i’ll handle making sure they never come back."

for the rest of the night, haechan sticks close to you, his arm either wrapped around your waist or slung over your shoulders. every now and then, he throws in a joke about the creep, making you laugh and keeping the mood light. but underneath it all, his protective streak is evident in the way his eyes occasionally scan the room, ensuring that no one else dares to approach you.

as the two of you head back to your group, haechan leans in close, his voice low in your ear. "god you look so good tonight"

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.

haechans arm tightens around you as he pulls you closer. "i dont need anyone else trying to chat you up tonight. stay with me."

jaemin

jaemin isn’t one to lose his temper easily. he’s the type to approach situations with a calm and calculated demeanor, but when it comes to you, there are no limits to what he’ll do to protect you. that’s why, when he notices a guy getting too close to you and hears the arrogance in his tone, a dark cloud settles over his usually sunny expression.

"come on, sweeheart," the creep says, leaning into your space with an infuriating smirk. "you’ve been giving me looks all night. don’t pretend you’re not interested."

you step back, your arms crossing as you glare at him. "looks? the only look i’ve been giving you is the one that says, ‘leave me alone.’ do you not know how to read a room?"

the guy chuckles, brushing off your words as if they’re meaningless. "don’t be like that. you don’t have to play hard to get. i’m just trying to have a good time."

jaemin, who has been quietly observing from a few feet away, clenches his fists at the audacity of the creep. he strides over, his face cold and unyielding. by the time he reaches you, the guy still hasn’t gotten the hint.

"dude" jaemin says, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. "she told you to back off. you should listen."

the guy turns to jaemin, sizing him up with an amused smirk. "and who are you? her babysitter?"

you open your mouth to reply, but jaemin holds up a hand, silencing you gently as his focus sharpens on the guy. "i’m the person who’s about to break your fucking jaw if you don’t walk away right now."

instead of taking the warning, the creep decides to push his luck. "oh, relax. i wasn’t doing anything wrong. can’t blame a guy for trying. i mean look at her, shes asking for it."

that’s the last straw. in a flash, jaemin’s fist connects with the guy’s jaw, the force enough to send him stumbling backward into the nearby bar counter. gasps erupt from the crowd around you, and the guy groans, clutching his face as he glares at jaemin.

"are you insane?!" the guy sputters, his confidence now replaced with fear and anger.

jaemin steps closer, his expression icy as he towers over the guy. "if i see you near her again, it won’t just be your jaw hurting. now get lost."

the guy doesn’t wait for further instructions. he scrambles to his feet and disappears into the crowd, clearly eager to get away from jaemin.

turning back to you, jaemin’s expression softens immediately. he takes a step closer, reaching out to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "you okay, princess?" he asks, his voice warm and full of concern.

you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the chaos. "yeah, i’m fine. you didn’t have to do that, you know."

jaemin sighs, pulling you into his arms and resting his chin on top of your head. "i know you can handle yourself, but i’m not going to stand by and let someone disrespect you. you’re too important to me."

you wrap your arms around his waist, leaning into his comforting embrace. "well, remind me to never get on your bad side. that punch was impressive."

jaemin chuckles, his breath warm against your hair. "only for you, baby. but next time, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. i’d rather keep my hands on you than waste them on creeps like him."

for the rest of the night, jaemin stays glued to your side, his protective instincts on high alert. every now and then, he glances around the room, his sharp eyes ensuring that no one else dares to bother you. but when he looks at you, his gaze softens, filled with the kind of love and devotion that makes you feel completely safe and cherished.

chenle

chenle isn’t the jealous type—or at least, that’s what he likes to tell himself. but when he sees some guy leaning in way too close to you, his smirk too smug and his intentions clear, something in him shifts. from across the room, he watches, his jaw tightening as the guy’s overconfident voice carries just enough for chenle to catch snippets.

"you’re way too beautiful to be standing here alone. how about i keep you company?"

you’re already rolling your eyes, visibly annoyed but keeping your cool. "i’m not alone, actually. my boyfriend’s here."

the guy doesn’t back off. instead, he lets out a mocking laugh, shrugging off your words. "boyfriend? i don’t see him. come on, you don’t have to make excuses. let me take care of you tonight."

chenle sets his drink down with a controlled precision, his eyes narrowing. he doesn’t do big scenes, but the guy’s blatant disrespect ignites something protective and possessive in him. without wasting another second, he strides across the room, his focus solely on you.

when he reaches you, he doesn’t acknowledge the guy. not a glance, not a word—nothing. his full attention is on you as he steps into your space, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist.

"chenle—" you start, confused, but before you can get another word out, he tilts your chin up and kisses you.

and not just a quick kiss. this is something else entirely. his hand cups the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his lips claim yours with undeniable intensity. it’s a kiss that demands attention—a declaration to the entire room, but especially to the creep standing awkwardly to the side. his other hand slides to your waist, holding you firmly against him, and you feel the tension in his grip, the silent message in his touch.

the kiss leaves you breathless, your hands instinctively clutching at his shirt as you try to ground yourself. chenle’s lips move with deliberate, unhurried precision, and even though the guy is still hovering nearby, all you can focus on is him—his warmth, his confidence, his unyielding presence.

the creep clears his throat awkwardly, his bravado crumbling under the weight of chenle’s unspoken challenge. "uh… okay, i get it. geez." he mutters something under his breath and shuffles off, but chenle doesn’t stop.

only when he’s sure the guy is completely out of sight does chenle finally pull back, his eyes dark and smoldering as they meet yours. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, a faint smirk tugging at his own. "that should make it clear to everyone."

you blink at him, still catching your breath, your cheeks flushed. "were you—were you jealous?" you manage, though your voice is still a little shaky from the kiss.

chenle raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he pretends to scoff. "me? jealous? please." he leans in closer, his lips ghosting over yours. "i just wanted to make sure that guy—and everyone else—knows who you belong to. that’s all."

you let out a laugh, shaking your head at his audacity. "you’re unbelievable, you know that?"

"i know," he replies smoothly, stealing another quick kiss. "and you love me for it."

you roll your eyes, but the warmth in your smile betrays you. "maybe i do."

for the rest of the night, chenle stays glued to your side, his arm either slung casually over your shoulders or his hand holding yours. he’s not one to hover, but tonight, his protective side is in full force. every now and then, he leans in to kiss you again—not because he’s jealous anymore, but because he simply can’t resist.

and every time he does, it’s like the rest of the world disappears, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

jisung

jisung isn’t the type to make a scene. he’s quiet and reserved most of the time, but when it comes to you, he’s fiercely protective. that’s why, when he notices the guy at the bar getting way too close to you, his hands gesturing as if he has any right to invade your space, jisung feels his blood start to boil.

the guy leans in, smirking like he owns the world. "you’re way too pretty to be sitting here alone. why don’t i keep you company?"

you shift back slightly, your irritation clear. "i’m not alone. my boyfriend’s here."

the creep doesn’t back off, laughing as if you’ve just told a joke. "oh, yeah? i don’t see him. sounds like you’re just saying that to get rid of me."

jisung watches from the other side of the room, his jaw tightening as he sets his drink down. he’s not one for confrontation, but seeing the guy blatantly disrespect you pushes him over the edge. he strides over, his tall frame imposing as he steps in between you and the creep.

"she’s not alone," jisung says, his voice low and firm, carrying an intensity that even surprises you. "i’m her boyfriend, and i think you need to walk away before this gets worse for you."

the guy looks jisung up and down, clearly assessing whether it’s worth pushing further. after a tense moment, he throws up his hands in mock surrender. "alright, alright. chill, man. i was just talking."

the guy slinks off into the crowd, and jisung exhales sharply, turning to you. his dark eyes meet yours, and there’s a fire in them that you don’t see often. "let’s go," he says, his voice leaving no room for argument.

you blink, slightly startled by his tone but also intrigued by the edge in his demeanor. "go? but—"

"now, y/n," he interrupts, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the bar without waiting for further protest.

the car ride is silent at first, tension crackling in the air. jisung’s knuckles are tight around the steering wheel, his jaw clenched as he focuses on the road. you steal a glance at him, the way his sharp profile looks under the glow of the streetlights, and it sends a thrill through you.

"you’re mad," you say softly, breaking the silence.

he scoffs, his eyes flicking to you briefly before returning to the road. "of course i’m mad. that guy wouldn’t leave you alone. he didn’t respect you—or us. i should’ve—" he cuts himself off, shaking his head as if trying to calm down.

you reach out, placing a hand on his thigh, your touch grounding him. "you don’t have to explain. i get it. and honestly? seeing you like this is… kind of hot."

his eyes widen for a second, the tension in his shoulders shifting into something else entirely. he pulls into an empty parking lot, shutting off the car and turning to face you. his gaze is dark now, the fire from earlier still burning but in a completely different way.

"you think this is hot?" he asks, his voice low, almost a growl.

you bite your lip, leaning closer. "i think you being so protective is incredibly hot."

that’s all it takes for him to snap. he surges forward, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. his hand tangles in your hair as he pulls you closer, the other gripping your waist as if he can’t bear to let you go.

the confined space of the car only adds to the intensity, your bodies pressed together as the windows begin to fog. his kisses trail down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp.

"you’re mine," he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough and full of conviction. "no one else gets to look at you like that, talk to you like that."

"i’m yours," you whisper back, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him even closer. "only yours."

the night might have started with frustration, but it’s clear that jisung is determined to make you forget every second of it, right there in the car with nothing but the two of you and the heated passion that takes over.

masterlist

hey guys!! sorry for not updating in a while.. i was out of the country!

also im making a permanent tag list so lmk if u wanna be on it!

[mixingandmelting]

Hii,

I'm not sure if your requests are open but I wanted to ask you if you could write a Dick Grayson x reader one where the reader is the daughter of one of Bruce's business partners and they meet at some sort of charity gala and he's instantly smitten with her.

Feel free to ignore this if you have too much to do.

Thanks ❤️

Witty, charming, and someone who matches his humor. He didn’t think he’d hit the jackpot tonight. Initially he had simply wanted to keep you company after seeing you all alone at your table. He expected either shy and sheltered or spoiled and flirty.

“A table for one at a gala?”

“What do you mean? Can’t you see I’m actually with three others?”

“Oh really? And they are…?”

“Me, myself and I.”

It comes with a pleasant surprise how the roles reverse and it’s him getting entertained by you. He lost track of how long he stayed at your table, unable to stop himself from chatting with you. You’re where the party’s at in this boring event and it confuses him how no one else has attempted to strike up a conversation with you for this long. Not that he’s complaining; he’s plenty satisfied to have you to himself. Your jokes draw genuine laughter from him while your laughter is just as infectious. The way your eyes sparkle and crinkle as you do- he rests his head onto his hand, admiring it and not wanting it to disappear. He can’t get enough. 

There’s no barrier or rich people’s behavior seen despite you introducing yourself as the daughter of one of Bruce’s many business partners and him as Bruce Wayne’s adoptive son not too long ago. Not even an hour in and you both are acting as friends that haven’t seen each other in ages. Perhaps even more if he plays his cards right tonight. Take you out for a nice walk. Grab something to eat. If you’re into it, watch a movie. All of the ideas that come from him jesting about rich people never imagining or having no knowledge of what the common people do for fun only for you to snort about how else were you to learn to talk and behave like them then. 

“Earth to Dick?”

Oops. He flushes under the smirk that dances on your lips, caught red-handed for day-dreaming his date with you. Not that you’d know the last part, but still.

“Am I starting to bore you yet?”

Yet? This whole time you were trying to get rid of him? The grin you give as you take a sip of whatever’s in your flute tells him otherwise. Returning one of his own, he’s about to respond before someone behind him calls your name. 

Turning around are your parents, walking side-by-side with none other than Bruce who raises an eyebrow at him. Ugh. Great. He most definitely won’t hear the end of this one. Looking back at you, he catches a spark of wistfulness in your eyes that quickly disappears as you give him one last smile. 

“Seems like that’s my cue.”

“Wait.” He’s conscious with his grip on your arm, gentle yet firm to grab your attention. “If you’re into it, mind giving me your number and we can hang out later?”

You bite your lip when you’re thinking. Good to know; definitely something that won’t leave his mind for a while. He tries not to show how giddy he is when you extend your phone out towards him. Giving him a tiny wave, you leave while telling him you would text him. The rest of the night goes uneventful as he mingles with others, half paying attention to what they say as he continues to think about you. Others including his family who wouldn’t stop giving him crap. 

It’s once he reaches back to his place and comes out of the showers, he gets a text. Drying his hair with a towel in one hand, he looks to see your name with a sunglasses emoji under your number. His heart somersaults and he fist pumps the air. He can regret not sleeping tomorrow morning, for now all he wants is to talk to you and make the date between you and him a reality.

[1980shorrorfilm]

the cut that always bleeds

keep clicking.

pairing…rain carradine x fem!reader x ellie williams

in which…ellie doesn’t seem to have time for you anymore; rain does.

before you read…angst, fluff. full transparency this comes forward very rain x reader but life is all about perspective 💜 don’t count how many times you see the word ‘moon.’ pretend theres no errors challenge. also pls no one get mad at this it’s just a little (4k count) gay story. . .

you’re cold.

the bonfire is blazing before you, and you’re cold. rain is sitting by your side, just barely providing you the warmth you crave— but ellie is a deep void that’s sucking it from you, sucking the joy from you that your other friends have. 

she’s occasionally sparing you glances over the flickering fire, and every time your eyes meet, there’s something behind them. but she pulls away, devoting her attention to the girl beside her, forgetting you’re there. 

you’re not sure what you’ve done— why she got bored of your friendship and seemingly dropped it for another. not that she couldn’t have other friends, you just take notice when someone else is prioritized over you. and it's not a nice feeling.

she doesn’t hang out with you anymore, endless excuses that are so fucking lame that you don’t even bother arguing against them. your patrols are awkward, always quiet like you’re waiting for the other to start a conversation, but neither of you do.

what could you talk about? you selfishly don’t want to hear about the details of her life without you present in it. you miss that— her, more than anything.

but you know she’s happy, her face flushes hues of pink with each interaction with the brunette. she looks nervous around her, picking at the right things to say before they roll off her tongue. that’s how you know it’s a crush— you were once the same. not now.

you feel a weird resentment. it’s not anger, but annoyance, wondering when or if she would notice you’re no longer her shadow, and if it would bother her.

rain notices the inability you have to show a smile, her sister's singing slowly comes to a bittersweet end.

she leans closer to you while your friends whistle at ellie, her head lowering in embarrassment, a habit you found cute.

“you good?”

you turn your head, meeting her blue eyes, swallowed by concern and her hand finding your knee out of habit when things are wrong. it’s not even a question that you had to answer because she knew. you tell her an easy lie, “yeah…just tired.”

she believes it, you think, nodding in return.

“do you…want me to bring you home?” she shyly offers, neither of you paying attention to the green irises locked in on you. ellie didn’t care for whatever relationship you and rain shared— she loves you both and that’s that. but, you were her friend first. 

you were the new kid that enjoyed sitting quietly with ellie in the comfort of her garage, rain was more sociable and almost too kind for you, at the time. now, of course you adore it. you love that rain spends her company with you, caring for you, admiring you. she had a way of making you forget everything else, and more importantly, ellie.

so, ellie can’t help but feel the tugging of her heart, while you’re tugged away from her. and she doesn’t even care to realize, she had placed the first brick, and built the wall between you. 

she’s not a perfect person. but that’s not what you wanted from her or expected. you just wanted her there, with you, not near you as someone you used to know.

rain catches you in your head again.

“hm?” she hums, a gentle squeeze on your knee realizing you let her question linger with no response. you nod, wanting nothing more than the fresh air from the forest than the heavy smoke surrounding you, suffocating you the same way ellie did.

rain gets up, and you copy, now capturing the eyes of your friends. “we’re ready to crash,” she announces, an exchanged look with ellie that you don’t read into, “don’t stay out too late, kids.”

you two ignore the groans, rain rolling her eyes with a ‘yeah, yeah,’ as you walk away together. 

the dirt path darkens the farther you get away from the fire, only the moon providing light for you. it casts an eerie yet lovely shadow over the tall trees, dead with orange leaves clinging to their branches. they crunch and crumble beneath your feet, both of you finding peace at the noise. 

when you turn to rain, she’s watching the moon— intently, as it could disappear at any given moment. 

it’s sweet, her fixation, you wish you could take her camera and snap a photo of her for yourself. to hang above your bed the way she does with her favorite pictures…quite a few of you. then her head turns to you, and yours turns away, to your dirt-covered shoes. 

“what?” 

“hm?”

“you’re staring, y/n.” 

“am not.”

rain laughs quietly, your face burning with heat at getting caught. it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time she’s dared to point it out. you can’t help that her features are really fucking pretty, mirroring ellie in that sense. and that when she’s super focused, her lips part an inch and her eyes narrow in, and she looks adorable. 

rain changes the topic, her tone now serious, “sooo…wanna tell me what’s up?”

you bite your tongue, literally and figuratively, not having the courage to confess that her sister is the storm cloud above your head and the boulder weighing you down. again, she notices, because of course she does, and quickly talks again, “im sorry—i didn’t—you just seem off.”

rain is mentally cursing herself for how far from smooth her words come out, not sure how to help you in the way she desperately wants to. she wouldn’t push for you to tell her anything you weren’t comfortable with, and that’s often what made communicating to rain so easy.

just, not with this, not this time.

“gotta headache,” you give yet another short lie, hoping it goes over her head. it doesn’t, not completely, but she accepts it. rain nods, the silence between you two only lasting for a few seconds before she speaks again, “ellie’s singing that bad, huh?” 

the joke finally gets a soft laugh from you, rain feeling satisfied she earned it from you, that it causes her lips to tug upward. now it’s her turn to stare, to observe the beauty in you that she finds in the moon, how despite the internal turmoil you’re enduring, you still manage to radiate such light. 

she doesn’t blink. not until she steps on a twig, and swallows the air, redirecting her gaze forward again. it’s a weird feeling…in a daze from you. it’s forbidden, you have only ever been friends, ellie had basically built your friendship over a series of game nights as a trio.

how could she cross a line that has been firmly in place for years? would you cross it?

she goes quiet the rest of the way home, and you don’t have the energy to make a conversation, so it’s just the chirping from the insects and the occasional blowing of the wind. you don’t mind it.

when you successfully sneak back into the walls of jackson, rain continues to walk you back to your place, all the way up the steps to your porch and standing idly in front of the door. 

“well…” rain starts, looking up from her white and red sneakers to your face, “i hope you feel better—your head, i mean—if not you should head to the infirmary, just in case, you know.”

she’s so doting you almost consider her words, the lie you created falsely slipping into a short reality, and you nod. “yeah, yeah, will do that.”

“cool, yeah, okay,” rain’s voice is above a whisper, almost forgetting this is the part where she walks away. that’s until you pull away from the moment first, something of a tight-lipped smile on your face that was practically saying goodbye to her, opening your door. 

when it shuts, rain lets out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding, lingering on your doorstep for a few passing seconds, before forcing herself to leave.

and as if you jinxed it, there’s a subtle pounding on your temple when you strip from your outdoor clothes, but you couldn’t blame that on the wires in your brain. 

it was the heavy, so fucking loud, and obnoxious thoughts of ellie. how dina is probably cuddled into her side while you’re going to sleep in your lonely bed. you don’t like feeling alone like this, just moments prior you were fine— you had rain at your side. 

you wish you invited her in; and that she’d lay by you with enough space in your platonic comfort zones. she would happily do so, and she wouldn’t leave you until you fell into a slumber when she knew you were at ease. 

you fall asleep picturing that, picturing her.

the next few days are surprisingly, easy.

it’s easy to numb the hurt from ellie with the presence of rain, and she was making herself your shadow. lunch at the tipsy bison, leading you to the back where you’re tucked away from everyone else. it was nice, it was intimate. other evenings when the sun is setting and she’s at your door, the sky casting an orangish glow on a certain angle of her face that makes her look like she descended from heaven itself. 

she'd come with goodies from the greenhouse she spent most of her time in, taking the uglier veggies and fruits that she had grown and making a meal out of them with you, for you. she was taking care of you in every sense of the word, not allowing a frown to fall upon your face.

today was different, though.

you didn’t attend the bar and she didn’t show up on your doorstep. instead, you’re in her bedroom— the smell of wood filling your senses from her rustic furniture, making the room feel cozier. a bubble from the outside world you never wanted to pop.

you're sifting through her latest collection of polaroids, mostly— no, entirely —of the moon in its different stages. you don't point that out, though, you don’t find it repetitive. you smile lightly, your fingertips tracing the edges of the glossy photographs. rain observing your face as she mirrors you, sitting crisscrossed parallel to you on her bed.

“i know it’s not super exciting—“ she says, almost apologetic, downplaying the actual excitement she had when she pulled the stack from out of her nightstand to show you. “i just think she’s pretty.”

you’re eyeing one of the blurry ones, making an illusion that there were two moons; two bright, almost ethereal orbs hanging in the sky, like they're celestial twins. you hum, taking it in, then glancing up at her, her expression soft but expectant, she's been watching you closely this whole time. curious, you ask, “she?”

“oh,” her lips curl slightly, a tenderness, maybe shyness, to her voice when she swallows then speaks again, “people in the old world used to think the moon was—well, is, a feminine symbol—sorta like a connection, i guess. and…just look at her…she’s…”

rain trails off, and you don’t seem to notice how her dark pupils are deeply set on your face, like she was trying to remember each outline, catching herself fading from the conversation and into you.

“she's just...always there...and always different—but always beautiful," she gulps, shrugging, afraid you're losing interest, “i don't know...i guess i just like that idea.”

you feel crazy for thinking there's something else to her words, something that makes your skin flush, but you blame it on the intimate atmosphere. you hum again, letting the silence settle between you two, but the air just seems to grow thick, a subtle tension building in that moment. not bad, just...different.

when you're done admiring the photographs, your gaze drifts to hers. she clears her throat, and your heart pounds in your chest. she talks first after building the courage.

“do you...” rain begins, her voice wavering slightly, but she manages to push through it. “do you wanna go to the bonfire tomorrow?”

“tomorrow? i didn’t know they planned that,” you say, wondering why her simple words and question have a weight behind them, a half inviting and half uncertain look on her face. like she's desperate for you to say yes.

but, you're already trying to come up with a reason to why you’re about to decline. things have been okay. you don’t need to be there, around ellie, and slip away again.

rain shakes her head, “they didn’t. i just thought, maybe you and i…”

your breath gets caught in your throat. it's not a typical gathering, it's rain wanting to be with you, and just you. she can tell you're caught off guard, her mouth opening, “it’s totally cool if you don’t—”

“no, yeah, we can,” you agree in the most nonchalant way you can, like the warmth isn't spreading through your chest by the mere idea. rain is not a rebel, not in the same sense that ellie was, and already took hesitation to your group sneaking out; she is making an exception for you.

she doesn’t reply, chewing her cheek to prevent the grin ready to flash, and to distract herself from overthinking it.

and then, she ruins the moment.

“by the way…ellie has been asking about you.”

damn it.

“she has?” your stomach flips, rain catching the glimpse of hope in your eyes, but it doesn’t last, not when you continue to speak again. “we haven’t been…”

“i know,” rain says softly, “that’s why she—”

“she’s busy these days,” you cut rain off, the feeling of comfort that ellie still cares, not able to overpower the bitterness you hold. going through her sister, to reach you? pathetic. she could spare five minutes from her dina-centered days to simply check in on you.

you add, “and i’ve been busy, too.”

with rain. she nods, letting it end there.

rain loves her sister, obviously, but she’s aware of her screw-ups that sometimes involve the ones she cares about. and as much as rain had a habit of figuring out her family and friend's problems, she couldn’t, not with this, not with whatever was going on between you. 

ellie will cross that bridge when she comes to it. and so will you. the best she could do was simply be there when you two needed her. 

and you need her.

the next night, rain had shown up at your doorstep the very moment jackson had gone dark. hair neatly tucked half up, adorned in that crimson jacket of hers, smelling like a mix of the clementines she grows in the greenhouse and the generic soap she slathered on her body. a scent that reminds you you’re okay.

rain was making simple conversation on the trail there, still on alert for any possible unwelcome eyes or visitors in the surrounding woods, whenever her eyes weren’t on you. the moon is full, and you look beautiful. she almost said that, but decided against it.

when you approach the clearing, it is an odd feeling to be there without hearing ellie’s honey voice sing a familiar song, the crack at a smile on her face if her eyes would land on you…that was a while ago, though. 

you barely sigh, watching rain tug off her backpack and bend over, getting the fire started while you sit on an empty log. you wait, bouncing your knee before you interrupt the silence. “it’s quiet.”

fantastic observation, y/n. rain spares you a glance, “that’s a good thing— means it’s just us.”

though she had meant it in the sense you’re safe, there’s an edge to her voice that makes your skin flush, and your heart thuds a little harder than you care to admit.

it is the most intimate setting when rain successfully gets the fire to spark, poking at it until it grows into a steady flame, then joining you. sitting directly next to you, thighs mere inches from touching. “i brought a blanket,” she mentions, “just in case you’re cold— get cold.”

“i’m fine, rain.”

“okay—i just don’t want you getting sick or anything,” rain finds it necessary to explain, a smile flashing on your face at her taking you into consideration. you chew at your bottom lip, and rain shoves her hands in her pockets.

for some reason, the energy feels charged, somehow electrifying despite the calmness of it all, the crackling of the fire and the occasional brushing of her leg against yours.

you're both quiet for a while, not sure what to say, to address whatever was hanging in the air like the mist in the surrounding forest, acting like barrier between you two and the rest of the world. that's when you feel her shift beside you.

rain is hesitant, but she nervously questions you, “was it…really your head that night? i mean—when i walked you home.”

you weren't ready for that. it feels too loaded, and your throat tightens.

but, you glance from the fire to her anyways, ember flames dancing on her delicate features, contorted in slight worry. she looks as ethereal as the moon, and maybe it's the setting, the trust you feel in this moment; that you show her some honesty.

“no,” it comes out lowly, and you shrug, trying to pass it off like it was truly not a big deal, “just didn’t want to be there.”

she still wears that face, a gentle intensity. her brows knit together, trying to push for more without making you uncomfortable, “…how come?” 

your sister. for a moment, you debate those words, considering telling her the truth, the full truth. about how you have felt about ellie, and how ellie has made you feel. like shit. chewed up stale gum at the bottom of her dirty black and white converse. it doesn't leave your mouth.

you awkwardly chuckle and fiddle with your fingers, “i dunno— i guess i just…”

you hesitate, her stare so intense you have to look back into the fire. you search for something simpler, but still raw, no longer wanting to hide all of your feelings from rain. especially when shes staring at you the way that she is.

“didn’t feel wanted?”

you hate the words as soon as they leave your lips, it sounds flat out pathetic as if you had only said them for pity. but it's true. you felt like a burden that night, there for no reason at all, dimming the mood with your disconnect from the group. it’s the nerves that make you continue to add to it.

“like…everybody had somebody,” you begin, managing to talk about ellie without explicitly saying her name, “and i was just there? i don’t know.”

you chuckle lightly at the end, but rain sees through it, through you, covering your hurt. her expression softens instantly.

“that’s not true…you have me.”

you blink at rain, her voice ever so gentle, and she reaches out, placing her hand on your knee. you like her tentative touch, so simple, yet it acts like an anchor keeping you at bay from the unfriendly thoughts in your head. it causes that internal warmth she's made you familiar with, to course through your body. from your toes, to where her hand rests, to your shoulders.

rain squeezes your knee gently, like a reassurance. a promise to her words, and the air tightens.

your gaze meets hers, the softness and sincerity behind her blue eyes, your cheeks warmer than the fire in front of you. it is just the crackling of the fire, and a howling of the wind through the trees, and you shiver. but, that's not thanks to the sudden coolness.

it's her stare. the goosebumps rise on your skin, and it happens, like that.

a mutual decision made by your eyes, a flickering between them and your lips. you lean in slightly, breath catching as your nerves grow, but she eases them when she does the same, assuring you that she wants this.

both of your hearts beat like rabbits, and your lips connect.

and then there was nothing else, no thinking, no brooding, no ellie.

just rain.

she takes it slow, cautious at first, once again squeezing your knee, but this time it’s to reassure herself— that you’re actually kissing her, that this is real, not in her head. it's not your first kiss ever, not at all, but it's the first that felt like it had meaning. like all of the love she has grown for you is on full display, wanting, needing, you to feel it.

you need to grab her, your hand slides to the back of her neck to somehow pull her closer, yet she’s the one deepening the kiss. not in a messy way, not in a rough way. she doesn’t want that from you, not yet, at least. it’s still just as tender as it is passionate, it’s like a dream.

and for a moment you had pictured with someone else, maybe even in this exact place on this exact log, this feels…right. 

when time is no longer paused, and you finally pull away, your mouth is still parted collecting your breath. “fuck…” rain mumbles, and then she laughs, “holy fuck.”

the smile she wore quickly falters from her face, the euphoria switching to concern, “that was okay— right?”

“yeah—yeah,” you whisper, the little smile returning to both of your faces, ignoring the sudden sense of unease you had felt. it was okay, fucking better than okay and you think you want more. but when you look forward again, it’s to the fire, to the log across that ellie would occupy with her pretty voice and guitar.

and then there’s rain, shyly looking at her red and white sneakers.

a minute doesn’t even pass. you swallow thickly, leaning forward, and kissing her again.

it’s an hour later when the flames had died, a quiet walk back home with stolen glances. you’re both in a haze, minds foggy with the thought of the other. though, yours wavers, a certain pair of green eyes flashing in your head. it was supposed to be her— that’s what you had used to think. 

ellie and you, not you and rain. so naive, you were. and so wrong, because rain felt right. she felt perfect.

and your schedule is quickly prioritized around rain over the following week. her free time was yours, and yours hers. 

walks around jackson taking photos of the things she found beauty in— the light in a dark world. which included you, often off guard, or stupid faces in her bedroom. 

the sleepovers sharing her bed, rain always meeting your hands beneath the blanket, a sense of relief she craved. the chocolate chip pancakes in the morning, making sure your days started nicely, and that you were happy. all rain did was make you happy. 

and ellie, on the sidelines, took notice.

she wasn’t losing her friend— she lost her friend. to her fucking sister. not that she was upset with rain in any way, or you for that matter, it just was how it was. something she could’ve prevented. 

it’s another night you’re getting ready to go meet rain, slipping on a hoodie when you hear the knocking at your door. you already know who it is, she was still using her signature rhymed knock. two beats off from rain.

you cross your living room, twisting the knob and opening the door. ellie stands before you, in a common dark flannel and her mullet seemingly freshly trimmed, neater than usual. probably the work of someone else’s loving hands.

“hey…can i come in?” she scratches the back of her neck, and you scoot out of the way as an answer. she enters, taking in the comforting aroma of your home she hadn’t realized she missed so much. it somewhat eases the tension in her shoulders, her nerves calming. 

you slowly trail behind her, the woman sitting on your couch hunched over, elbows propped on her spread legs. this was serious, and you really don’t want this right now. 

her mouth opens before yours does, though.

“how are you?”

oh. her question catches you off guard, but it’s genuine, not surprising since she’s just a distant echo in your life these days. “i’m good,” you give her a short real answer, and she doesn’t give you time to elaborate or even ask her back.

“yeah? and—you and rain?”

you blink at her. her tone is so accusatory like any possible response will just be flat-out wrong. 

even if it’s the truth, especially if it’s the truth.

the unfortunate part is that ellie did have some right to know what your relations were with her sister; but there is nothing to tell her, because just like her and dina, you’re not calling yourselves girlfriends.

you’re friends, technically. friends that have gotten closer and closer, spending more time with each other than anyone else. letting the spark between you two grow into a flame, and into a fire. 

maybe that is the very reason why the question had left ellie’s lips, seeing a mirrored version of her and dina in you and rain. and if that is the case, why is her voice laced with venom, not obvious, yet clearly there? 

she knows you’d never hurt rain, and rain would never hurt you. there is no valid reason for her to take issue with the idea you two had something. not in your opinion, at least.

your silence is an unspoken or undecided answer, and ellie leans back, tongue-swiping her teeth. 

“right, okay,” it comes out as a rasp, with a short nod. she begins again, “you could’ve told me.”

you can’t help it— you rebuttal her. “kinda hard when you’re not around.”

“wha—” ellie’s brows furrow, suddenly standing up, eyes darkened and narrow, “every fucking time i come here, you’re gone, you know that?”

you feel a nonexistent spotlight on you that you don’t want to be under, and ellie isn’t even done speaking. “there are nights neither of you are home—so what, you’re fucking sneaking out too? it’s one thing to hide it, but to be stupid?”

“so you suddenly care about me?” you mutter, and her jaw just barely drops, taking offense at your words, pausing before she even can respond.

“how…could you even say that?”

there is no irritation in her voice this time. it’s flat, even somber, matching the energy shift in the room. you’re quiet, unable to make another snarky comment. you stare at her shoes, them approaching you, staying in place when she was just a few feet from you.

then, you look back up at her. 

“you know i love you,” ellie tells you blankly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, something she has said a million times over. 

it’s different when you haven’t felt her love, or any sort of affection from her in weeks, and the three words seem like more of a chore. nearly meaningless to you. the only person that made you feel like you had a purpose, was now rain, and that realization fucking stings. 

“i have to go,” you disregard the current conversation, ignoring the dry humorless chuckle that escapes ellie’s lips, “can you leave? please?”

she remains still for a moment, staring at you, and you dread it. the silent observing, waiting for you to crack, drop this curtain you’re holding up to prevent her from seeing how you truly feel. 

how you’re coming to terms with your heartbreak, before the woman that broke your heart, that was never in her possession in the first place— not that she was ever aware of. 

she nods. 

ellie forces herself to move, walking past, shoulders nearly brushing when she walks past you. you wait to hear the door open, but her palm is resting on the knob.

“i…know i messed up…” she admits, “but…you could’ve come to me.”

she’s making this harder. making your mind envision a reality where you were the one that fought harder, not her. that you didn’t slowly watch the gap between you two widen, and just expressed to her how poorly she had made you feel.

that would be easier than this. she would still be your closest friend…and rain wouldn’t. 

rain, who is currently waiting for you. her bed most certainly made neatly, reserved for you to fall asleep in, her arm bound to snake its way around you and stay in place until you woke up.

ellie debates her next choice of words, but nothing comes from her. with dread, she leaves you, alone, frozen in place trying to unpack everything. it feels impossible, and you no longer have the desire to see rain, as much as she could numb this. 

you lay down in your own, and much colder bed, but your curtains are drawn wide open and the moon is shining through your window— and she looks beautiful tonight. rain is probably admiring her, wishing she had you next to her to do so.

maybe ellie is doing the same. and maybe tonight, you’re still on her mind, even if she’s gazing at it with someone else.

[noonecareslol]

࣪˖ ִ ೀ 𝐀 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Hwang In-ho x Fem! Reader

Summary: When the games aren’t in session, and In-ho is lonely, he finds himself in the first row at the ballet. Watching you. Suddenly he's falling in love.

TW: Channeling my love for older men. Injury. Reader lowkey gets sad for a sec. Age gap (reader is 25 In-ho is 49). Just FLUFF! In-ho learning how to love someone again. Quite literally head over heels for you. Allusions to masturbation. Size kink if you squint.

WC! 5k

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It is quite obvious that In-ho is an old soul.

He enjoys old films, old clothing, old theatre, and old music. The little jazz set that plays, “Fly Me To The Moon” is a cherished possession of his, along with his vintage whiskey decanter.

He wears a musky cologne he’d been gifted by his late wife, and his closet is lined with leather dress shoes and perfectly pressed slacks. His dimly lit room on the island is vastly similar to the one in his Seoul apartment, everything perfectly neat and clean.

Yes, In-ho is an old soul.

And in between the games, when he would return to Seoul, he’d find himself bored. Especially during the night. He’d miss his wife, the whispered hope of a promised future.

Often he would distract himself by putting his whiskey decanter to good use, pouring the aged whiskey into his glass over and over again. He would linger by his shelf full of movies he’d seen hundreds of times, tracing his fingers along the cases until he landed on a title. A small smile would play on his lips before popping it into the DVD player and taking a seat next to his beloved cat.

He would find himself mumbling the lines as the actors spoke them on screen, his hand absentmindedly petting his cat. When the movie is over, and the quiet resumes, he’d move to his bedroom.

He’d ensure his cat followed before changing into his expensive pajamas and climbing into the king-sized bed. His cat would join him and he would drift to sleep, dreaming of, well, nothing.

He would close his eyes and wake up without any dream having occupied his mind.

This routine became comfortable. Each night he would get home from whatever he’d been doing before, drink, watch a movie, play with his cat, and sleep without any dreams.

But this night, this night was different.

It was a cold night. And all In-ho wanted to do was drown in glasses of whiskey and watch “Dial ‘M’ For Murder” with his cat.

But as he walked past a line of people waiting to enter a theatre, a poster caught his attention. He blinked once, twice, before walking toward the lit-up frame.

A strikingly beautiful ballerina caught his attention first. She held her arms elegantly above her head, her leg pointed behind her, her other leg resting on pointe as she looked to the side. She was breathtaking.

The Seoul Ballet Company Presents: Swan Lake

Opening Night November 1st

Suddenly the thought of whiskey and Alfred Hitchcock left his mind as he joined the line. I mean, who would miss out on opening night?

Especially when the lead was so pretty.

“We have one ticket left in the front row.” The woman behind the ticket booth clicked her pen unenthusiastically as she watched In-ho pull his leather vintage wallet out of his coat pocket.

A grin rested plainly on his lips as he fiddled with his cash, “That’s perfect. How much?”

The woman slowly turned and punched a few numbers into her register before turning back to him, “80,000 won.” She clicked her pen again.

“Do you have change for 100,000?” He held the two 50,000 won in front of him, watching as she stared at him blankly.

She blinked once before snatching the bills from his hands, “Nope!” In-ho sighed. For someone so slow she took those bills awfully fast.

In-ho drew his lips into a thin line before taking the ticket and placing it in his wallet, “Thanks.”

“Yeah enjoy the show or, like, whatever.” The woman took out her phone and began to text as he walked away, obviously not giving a shit about her job.

But as In-ho walked through the double doors, his breath caught in his throat. The theatre certainly did not disappoint his love for old architecture.

The large barrel vaulted ceilings were beautifully ornamented and adorned with intricately painted designs. Gorgeous crown molding edged the ceiling and stretched to the floor. And a large crystal chandelier rested as the centerpiece, warmly lit and inviting.

In-ho took his seat, a smile evident on his lips as he sighed contently. However, he hoped his cat wasn’t too worried about his whereabouts. Maybe she could come along next time? She is a very sophisticated cat, after all.

As the chandelier and house lights began to dim, the crowd became quiet with anticipation and excitement. And it would be dishonest to say that In-ho wasn’t a little excited as well.

He looked to his left at the woman sitting next to him. She was a small elderly lady with a pair of glasses perched on the tip of her nose. Her eyes were filled with excitement as she scanned through the pamphlet, a wide smile plastered on her face.

She wore a vintage necklace around her neck, layered with pearls. In-ho smiled, it was nice to see someone who also had a knack for old taste.

The soft notes of Swan Lake began to play, and In-ho watched as the curtains opened, revealing the beautifully decorated stage. Large trees with hanging vines arched over the set, greenery and flowers blending into the painted backdrop.

A foggy mist flooded the stage as dancers began to move elegantly across. But the lead had yet to make an appearance.

In-ho watched rather impatiently, and failed to notice the woman next to him lean in, “Right now, the prince is going hunting with his crossbow. But he will find that the white swan has turned into a beautiful woman, and has fallen under a curse.” The old woman pointed slightly to the prince, her voice whispering just loud enough for him to hear.

His eyes trained on the prince as he danced with his crossbow, “Thank you. I must look confused.”

The old lady gave a small laugh, “I used to dance for this company, i’ll never miss an opportunity to explain the ballet.”

In-ho watches as she subtly mimics the prince's moves, her hands moving elegantly in front of her. Her eyes were closed, the sound of the music bringing emotion to her face.

Her eyes flick open as the music changes softly, “Look.” Her eyes lighting up as she nods slightly to the stage.

In-ho watches as you finally take the stage, fluttering your feet as you move elegantly toward the prince. Your hands held high above your head, moving gracefully as you bourrée.

He watched as your back muscles contracted, moving as if you had wings. His eyes trained down to your legs and to your pointe shoes, watching as you danced with ease.

Your white feathered skirt moved along with you, the bodice elegantly framing you perfectly. The feathered piece in your hair catches In-ho’s attention, causing him to study your face.

That poster was nothing compared to your beauty.

You held a soft look, but In-ho didn’t fail to notice the focus that caused your eyebrows to furrow slightly. Your movements were soft and graceful, your demeanor innocent and melancholic.

You were perfect as the white swan.

You were perfect.

He wondered if you were just as innocent as you portray yourself to be, “God, she’s beautiful.”

The elderly woman hummed in agreement as she watched In-ho’s gaze remain sharp on the white swan, an all-knowing smile spread across her lips.

As the ballet continued it seemed that the rest of the audience had disappeared. In-ho felt as if you were only dancing for him. No one else.

He swore you looked at him a few times, him being the focus point of your graceful turns.

And when you transitioned into the black swan, all thoughts in In-ho’s head became dark.

Oh, how he liked this side of you.

Your movements were sharp, determined, and seductive. And he found himself adjusting in his seat as his slacks became increasingly tight. You were so close to him. Just a few feet from his touch as you danced on stage. He could take you right now. He could fuck you, make you feel things you’ve never felt before.

And as you leaped on the stage, the white swan jumping to her death, In-ho felt a tear slip from his eye. You were magnificent.

The audience filed out of the theatre, fanning themselves with their pamphlets and discussing the ballet. You had received a standing ovation, and In-ho took pride in being the first one to stand and clap.

He had finally caught your attention. And when you locked eyes with him as you bowed, you felt your brain turn to mush.

He was handsome. Like, extremely handsome.

His face was perfectly chiseled. His eyes crinkled as he flashed a perfect smile, his hair slightly falling in front of his face and covering his dark eyes.

You didn’t blink once as you remained under his gaze, and it wasn’t until another dancer pulled you up that you realized you were bowing for far too long.

You avoided his eye contact as you walked off, embarrassed he had made you turn into putty just by his stare.

And as In-ho exited the theatre, he took his time lingering by the lamp post. He’d secretly hoped to see you leave.

He doesn’t know what he would say if he did see you. Maybe he would compliment you, or ask you a meaningless question. Or maybe, just maybe, he’d push you against the lamppost, and let his desire consume you.

He’d just wait a little bit longer.

10 minutes.

15 minutes.

30 minutes.

The woman from behind the ticket booth locked the door as she brought down the metal gate, “Excuse me, did the woman who danced as the white swan leave yet?”

She turned around smacking her gum, “Yeah. Why?” She sized him up, placing a hand on her hip as she cocked an eyebrow.

In-ho felt his face flush, “I was just going to compliment her.” He put his cold hands in the pockets of his coat, shifting his weight onto his other foot.

“Yeah well,” The woman smacks her gum as she walks up towards In-ho, handing him a flier, “They have open practice every Friday. Tickets are only 10,000 won.”

He took the flier from her hand, folding it and sliding it into his pocket, “Thanks.” She nodded her head and walked past him, slipping into her jacket.

In-ho turned and started his walk to his apartment only a block away. When he arrived, he heard the familiar sound of meowing by his front door.

And as he opened the door, he came face to face with his cat waiting on the couch, “I’m sorry Elisabeth, but I’m too tired for a movie tonight.”

She gave an annoyed meow before reluctantly following him into his room, hopping onto the pillow beside his. In-ho got dressed in his pajamas, ready for another dreamless night as he slipped into the sheets next to Elisabeth.

But this time, it wasn't dreamless.

In fact, he had dreamed a very vivid dream.

He had dreamt of you.

And as In-ho woke up the next morning, his hand immediately went to his nightstand, picking up the flier.

It seems that the pretty ballerina has stolen his heart.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"Plié! Ron de jambe, retiré! Good!" You held your arms in front of you, your right leg coming up at a bend, "Pas de chat, écarté! Don't rush it, Fiona!"

Your ballet teacher weaved between you and the other students, her tight bun sitting perfectly on her pointed head, "Développé, demi-pointe! No! Not pointe, demi pointe!"

Her thick French accent bellowed throughout the theatre, "Good y/n! Très bien!" A wide smile painted your lips as you continued your dance, your friend Fiona rolling her eyes at your praise. You giggled as you went into second, your arms outstretched to the side.

"Well done! Take a water break and stretch, we'll take five." You brought your hands to your knees, leaning over slightly as you caught your breath.

Fiona dramatically flopped on her back, a hand coming to her forehead as she breathed heavily, "I've died, she's killed me." You tossed her water bottle into her hand with a laugh as you sat next to her, your eyes scanning the theatre.

Familiar faces met your eyes. Elderly couples, former dancers, and little kids with their moms. Oh! And the man who you haven't stopped thinking about.

Wait.

You hit Fiona's shoulder hard, not taking your eyes off him, "Fiona. Fiona, look." She sat up, holding her shoulder as her eyes trailed to where you were subtly pointing.

"Oh, it's the hot dilf." Fiona took a drink from her bottle, watching as In-ho looked around while taking in the architecture.

You slapped her shoulder again, "Shut up! What if he hears you?" You get up from the ground, pulling Fiona up with you and tossing your water bottle back into your bag.

She followed suit, taking one last drink before tossing it in her own, "First off, stop hitting me. It's abuse." You rolled your eyes as you both took your spot by the barre, "Second, he's in the back corner of the theatre, he's not hearing shit. Except for our teacher's constant yelling."

You didn't respond, instead, you continued looking at him. His black turtle neck sweater hugged his biceps perfectly, and you didn't fail to notice his empty finger where a ring would sit.

"Okay! Lets continue! Tendu, plié! Ron de jambe, plié!"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It had been two months since In-ho first started spending his Fridays pining over you.

Each Friday, he would come home, change into an outfit he had dry-cleaned and pressed, feed Elisabeth, and head to the Theatre. He would take his spot in the far left corner, and watch as you danced and laughed with your friends.

He found himself looking forward to Fridays. Which is strange, because he's never looked forward to anything before. Well, besides the games. But he had been so focused on you, that he had fallen behind on his work. Something he'd never done before.

You plagued his mind.

He dreams of you. When he's asleep and awake. He'd find himself walking by the Theatre on other days when you were practicing, hoping to see a glimpse of you.

He found himself listening to Etta James and Nat King Cole more often than not. 'A Sunday Kind Of Love' and 'Unforgettable' filing his apartment as he cooked his dinners. 'My Fair Lady' and 'Gone With The Wind' replacing his classic mystery movies.

He even found himself stopping by flower boutiques, smelling the tulips and Orchids. He wonders what your favorite flower is. Perhaps it is Lilies, the flower that represents innocence and purity.

He wondered a lot if you were a virgin. Often imagining the feeling of your body under his large one late at night when he can't sleep, and when his hand finds itself under his pants.

You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you didn't even know it.

Vice Versa, you found yourself looking forward to Fridays as well.

It was the only day you could see the stranger who you had been thinking about constantly.

You liked his style, the way he carried himself with a confidence that intimidated you. His large frame towered over everyone, and he stood out from the crowd. He was perfect. It was as if god himself sculpted him with his own hands.

And oh my god.

You were down bad.

Fiona constantly teased you about it. Making fun of how you stopped wearing your loose cover-up, "Im just hot, that's all Fiona. It's warm in here." You lied. And Fiona was obviously aware of that.

You started offering to stay late with your teacher and help clean up, hoping to catch the stranger before he left. But your teacher always insisted you should go home and rest, and who were you to disobey her.

You've always been perfect. At school, at dance, at everything. When auditions came for Swan Lake, there was no question in anyone's mind about who would get the lead.

But since opening night, things have been slightly different. You often got distracted during practice, your eyes always finding the man in the back corner. You started falling out of your turns, forgetting to bring your pointe shoes, and, worse of all, you had been forgetting to point your toes.

And here you were. Walking to the center of the stage, ready to run through your variation in front of everyone. It was an easy variation, but the end was complicated. You had to do several pirouettes, which you have always been good at. But today you decided to test yourself.

You knew your teacher was becoming increasingly disappointed in you, it plagued your every thought. So, as you spun perfectly, you decided to see how many pirouettes you could perform.

17, 18, 19, 20.

Your leg is wobbling, but you choose to ignore it.

21, 22, 23-

You hear Fiona call your name as your foot slips out of pointe, twisting as you fall on top of it, "Oh my god!" The sickening sound of your ankle cracking causes your heart to drop. The stinging feeling of tears replaced by the overwhelming pain that was now shooting up your leg.

Everyone huddles around you as the teacher runs to call an ambulance, but Fiona kneels at your side, "I know this isn't the right time but, the dilf is running over here right now."

You close your eyes, trying to control your rapid breathing. You wished the stage would open around you and swallow you whole, just put you out of your misery.

In-ho jumps with ease onto the stage, his sweater sleeves rolled up to his elbow, "Move." He pushes past the dancers huddling over you and grabs your face.

Your eyes flick open at the feeling of warm hands pressed against your cheeks. Oh my god, he was holding your face. Your heart fluttered but you didn't notice, you were too worried about the fact that your ankle was bent the wrong way.

In-ho's hand softly brushes over your ankle, causing you to wince. At first, he's skeptical about touching you. Was it too fast? Too sudden? Too bold?

But he didn't have time to think it over as he put his strong arms under you, lifting you gently as he stood. Fiona watched with a smirk on her face as she saw shock fill your eyes, his biceps flexing as he pulled you close to his chest.

Without a word, In-ho steps down from the stage and carries you through the exit, "I have an ambulance coming!" Your teacher ran after him yelling, her typically neat bun somewhat loose and frizzy now.

In-ho motions to his pocket and Fiona responds, grabbing his car key and unlocking his Mercedez-benz, "It will take too long. I'll drive her."

For a split second, you catch his eye, and you could've sworn to god your pain disappeared for a moment. And if it were a different circumstance, In-ho would kiss you. He would kiss you right here with you in his arms.

But the shared look was short-lived as he very carefully sets you in the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt gently. Your ballet teacher leans down to the window, "Don't worry! Fiona can dance for you!"

Your heart shattered.

And tears began to flood. You ignored In-ho's words of reassurance as he took off, speeding to the hospital. The drive was quiet except for your soft cries. And In-ho wanted nothing more than to cradle you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

"Im sorry im getting your car dirty." You looked at the tear-stained headrest you laid against, wiping your sore eyes with the back of your hand.

In-ho cuts a car off as he turns, ignoring the beeps from the angry driver, "It's okay. I have another one." The subtle money brag wasn't missed by you. In-ho just wanted to impress you.

"What are you? Like a CEO or something?" You turned to face him, giving a pitiful sniffle as he gave another sharp turn.

He chuckled, and you felt your heart beat faster. Was it because of the adrenaline? Or was it because the man whom you've become obsessed with is quite literally acting like your night in shining armor, "Im... Im a game show host."

You nodded, an impressive smile growing on your face, "That's cool. Im y/n by the way."

He flashes a smile, the same smile from the night you first saw him, and a blush creeps up on your tear-stained cheeks, "You're sitting there, with a fucked up ankle, and you're making small talk?"

You suddenly feel embarrassed. He's just some random guy who happened to be in the right place at the right time, nothing more. "Sorry. Just trying to distract myself."

In-ho frowns. Did he say the wrong thing? His grip tightens on the steering wheel, "No! Don't be sorry. If I'm being honest, I've been dying to know your name."

His eyes flick to you before looking back in front of him, "Im Hwang In-ho." A small smile creeps onto his lips as he pulls to a stop in front of the ER.

"Well, Mr. Hwang, it's nice to meet you."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"Well, it looks like you have a fracture." You give a long exasperated sigh as the Doctor holds up the X-rays, "The fibula is fractured below the level of the syndesmosis, which is the joint between the tibia and fibula."

You look at In-ho, who, for some reason, seems more stressed than you do, "What's the healing process like? Will she need surgery?" Your head snapped to the doctor at the mention of surgery. Surgery for dancers is like a death sentence.

No. More. Dancing.

"Fractures like these are considered stable, meaning that they are unlikely to worsen with correct treatment and management. You'll just need to wear a boot for a while." The doctor noticed how your concerned look didn't falter, and gave a sigh before placing a hand on your shoulder, "You can still dance."

The breath you were holding escapes your lips as you feel a heavy weight fall off your shoulders, "Thank you so much." The doctor rubs your shoulder before leaving, instructing the nurse to fit you for a boot.

In-ho watches as you close your eyes, a smile resting on your face. He cocked his head, how could you be so beautiful in a moment like this? His eyes take a minute to trail down your body, taking you in, something he's grown fond of doing.

Your hair is a mess, your cheeks are red and tear-stained, your ankle looks like a snapped twig, and you're picking at your cuticles. But god.

You are perfect.

Just as beautiful now as you were months ago.

An unfamiliar feeling has taken over his chest ever since he saw you. A tightening, warm feeling that he hasn't felt in years. At first, he ignored it. Maybe it was just heartburn? But as it progressed, he got worried. The next thing you know a doctor is laughing in his face.

Calling it 'love'.

In-ho immediately left after he heard that, making sure to write a very passive-aggressive review on Yelp. What doctor diagnosed a patient with 'being in love'?

In-ho was not in love.

...

...

Right?

It wasn't until he watched 'Funny Face' that he realized the estranged doctor was correct. The moment Fred Astaire saw Aubrey Hepburn and was immediately captivated by her beauty, he knew it was true.

He didn't care that he was more than twenty years older than you, or that he had bigger things to worry about, all he cared about was you.

And that made him so confused.

You had managed to captivate his heart, soul, and body. And he felt like a teenager with his first crush all over again. So as he saw you look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, he couldn't help what happened next.

He stood from his chair, taking large steps towards your frame. You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him stand between your legs, careful not to hit your ankle.

His big hands reach down and grab your face, slamming your lips into his own. Your eyes grow wide, confusion flashing across your face before slowly giving in, pulling his head down lower.

His touch was gentle, the opposite of his kiss. His hands softly caressed your red cheeks, while his lips hungrily chased after your own.

You tugged at the baby hairs that rested on the back of his neck, desire and hunger feeding off you as he slipped his tongue into your pretty mouth. A low growl escaped his swollen lips, and you felt arousal begin to pool between your thighs.

You whine as he removes his hand from your face and steps back, crossing his arms. His gaze has always been intimidating. But now that he's seen you fall on your ass, cry, and melt under his touch all in one day, it is much more intimidating.

You've been vulnerable in front of him. Something you could never do before. But you didn't care if he saw your flaws, you were perfect to him.

He saw a future when he looked at you. He saw a family, something he had longed for many years ago. He saw hope, love, and promise.

He saw you.

Beautiful, perfect, irresistible you.

And as he looked at you, only one question entered his mind.

"Do you want to meet my cat?"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

a/n: chat. its 2 am. but i am DETERMINED to post this. i just love you guys sm mwah mwah. also, wasn't in a smut mood. still getting used to writing smut LMAO.

also random disclaimer: i have never done ballet. so if any terms are wrong or if my spelling is trash PLS LMK!

@bohemiandelilah @menabuser16 @verouys @speedymagazinewhispers @metalbaby2 @nellabear @marymun @orihime188 @nanascupid @fnl9zer @chasinghxran @crystalizia @auspicious-lilana @machipyun @cdej6 @namelesslosers

[jackiespurnell]

go out with us, princess (no crash au jackienat x reader headcanons - requested)

summary: jackie and nat are dating....so why are they flirting with you?

tw: none

────୨ৎ────────

nat would probably be the first to realize her feelings for you

even though she was in an happy relationship with jackie

she couldn’t deny the fact that she was head over heels for you

jackie, on the other hand, was more in denial

she had only ever been in monogamous relationships before

but once she realized her feelings, she got scared she was emotionally cheating

eventually her and nat talked it out

and jackie realized she was polyamorous and actually in love with you

after that, you noticed how nat and jackie started hanging around you a lot 

you felt kind of awkward, like you were third wheeling

but you did enjoy their company

and it didn’t hurt that they were really hot

but you can’t help but wonder why their interactions with you felt oddly like flirting

maybe im just reading too much into things you thought

they totally weren’t asking you out when they asked you to go to the movies with them

and when nat said "go out with us, princess" she totally didn't mean it like that

and it just happened to be a really sexual movie 

but it was probably just a coincidence

nat was rather upfront with the flirting, explicitly saying how hot you looked

and how lucky any guy or girl would be to have you

meanwhile jackie was a little more subtle with it

just casually twirling your hair around her finger or playing with your fingers

“you should stay overnight” jackie suggests

and while her tone sounds completely innocent

the smirk on nat’s face suggests otherwise

while you really don’t want to intrude anymore, you can’t deny that you want to go

so you slide into the backseat and the three of you drive off

once you all arrived at jackie’s house, they immediately grabbed snacks

and you all headed upstairs

they immediately flopped down onto jackies bed, pulling you down with them

jackies arm was wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into her

meanwhile natalie was flung across jackie’s lap, her fingers playing with your hair

now, maybe they were just touchy people

but it felt oddly couple-y

still, you basked in the attention and melted into both of their touches

you eventually gathered the courage to ask them what exactly was going on

jackie tensed up a bit, but natalie finally admitted the fact that the both of them liked you

you were a little bit shocked at first

nat did most of the explaining, with jackie eventually chiming in

they also admitted that this was kind of supposed to be a makeshift date of sorts

ultimately, you all decided to take it slow

going out with jackie was very romantic, very planned out 

that girl could not do anything spontaneous if her life depended on it

nat was a little more laidback

typically you two would just go out to eat or hang at a park or something

eventually, when the three of you became official

you all spent the majority of the time at jackie’s house

you went to every single one of their soccer games and sometimes the practices too

you became pretty good friends with the yellowjackets

shauna was slightly protective of jackie, and lottie was a little bit too enthusiastic

but overall, you found yourself really happy with your new girlfriends

and yeah, fine, it didn’t hurt that they were both really good kissers…. 

────୨ৎ────────

requested by @rippedpatches

[saffusthings]

chapter 2: you're on your own, kid

ceo!oscar piastri x reader

summary: the one where an opportunity arises.

word count: 1.3k

one | two | three

Oscar wasn’t reckless. Every decision he made, whether in business or in life, was careful, deliberate. So when she began to occupy more space in his thoughts than he was comfortable admitting, he decided to treat it like any of his other projects. Not emotionally - Oscar Piastri didn’t do emotional. 

Head over heart.

Always.

“Logan,” Oscar began one afternoon, his tone casual, as his assistant walked into the office. “What’s our updated status on next quarter’s internship positions?”

Logan, pulling up different tabs to cross-reference on his tablet, glanced up in confusion. “Internship positions? I thought we finalized those a few weeks ago. Everything’s locked in.”

“Remind me,” Oscar continued smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “Do we have any open spots in legal or compliance? Or plans to expand there?”

Logan furrowed his brow. “Not really. Legal’s been fully staffed for a while now. And compliance? We’re in a good place there too.”

Oscar nodded, his expression giving nothing away. “Fair. Still, it might be worth revisiting. Fresh talent brings fresh perspectives. Maybe we’ve overlooked an opportunity.”

Logan blinked at him for a second before shrugging. “Sure. I can ask HR to review our pipelines, if you’d like.”

“Please,” Oscar said, returning his attention to the file on his desk as if the matter were entirely routine.

But it wasn’t.

The opportunity came just a few days later, during one of Logan’s more casual updates.

“She’s absolutely buried with exams and applications right now,” Logan said, shaking his head as he popped the lid off his coffee. “I told her she doesn’t need to worry—every firm out there would be fighting to have her—but she’s still stressing over it.”

“Job applications?” Oscar echoed, feigning mild interest.

“Yeah,” Logan said, settling into the chair across from him. “She’s picky, though. Doesn’t want to just take the first offer that comes along. Wants somewhere she actually respects.”

“Smart,” Oscar commented, his tone neutral but his mind already working. “With her qualifications, she’d be an asset anywhere. Including here.”

Logan blinked at the suggestion, surprised. “Here? You mean this company?”

“Why not?” Oscar asked, shrugging slightly. “We’ve always prioritized talent over experience. If she’s looking for opportunities, it wouldn’t hurt to suggest she apply. From everything you’ve said, she sounds like the kind of candidate we should be keeping an eye on.”

Logan chuckled, though there was a flicker of intrigue in his expression. “She is brilliant, but I don’t know if this is her kind of place. She’s more interested in the big-picture side of law. Impactful work, that sort of thing.”

“Impactful work doesn’t have to mean the nonprofit sector,” Oscar replied. “The right role, the right mentorship—it’s all about showing someone the potential in places they might overlook.”

Logan frowned thoughtfully, nodding as he mulled it over. “You’ve got a point. I could mention it to her, see what she thinks.”

“Good,” Oscar said simply, turning his gaze back to his monitor.

Logan left a few moments later, clearly still considering the idea.

Oscar stayed seated, tapping his pen lightly against the edge of his desk. It wasn’t much—just a suggestion, an idea planted carefully—but it was enough to start. If Y/N ended up walking through the doors of this building, no longer just a fleeting encounter on a crowded street, it would be because he’d given her the option.

And Oscar Piastri understood the power of giving someone the right option at the right time.

She had been staring at the email on her laptop for what felt like an eternity.

The subject line read: Exciting Opportunity at McLaren Ltd!—a suggestion Logan had dropped in conversation a week ago and followed up with a link to the company’s career portal. At the time, she’d laughed it off, telling him it wasn’t her kind of thing. 

Corporate law? No, thanks.

But now, the cursor blinked at her as if daring her to reconsider.

She sighed, leaning back against the worn cushions of the couch in her quaint apartment. The place wasn’t much—hardly bigger than a shoebox—but it was hers. Her space. The one thing she controlled in a life that sometimes felt like it wasn’t really her own.

The sound of her phone buzzing against the coffee table cut through the silence. She didn’t need to check the screen to know who it was.

“Y/N,” her mother’s voice crackled through the speaker when she answered. “We need to talk.”

Here we go again.

Her mother didn’t waste time. “Your father and I have been discussing things. It’s time you stopped fooling around. You’re graduating soon—what are you going to do with all this law nonsense? Where’s the money? Where’s the stability?”

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. “I told you, I’m applying to firms. I’m figuring it out—”

Her mother’s sharp laugh cut her off. “Figuring it out? You’re almost twenty-two, Y/N. By this age, your cousins were either married or already contributing to their families. And you? Still playing student. Still living in that… tiny apartment. It’s embarrassing.”

Her father’s voice joined in the background, muffled but unmistakably critical. “Tell her to stop chasing dreams and start being practical. A real job or a real husband. One or the other.”

The familiar knot tightened in Y/N’s stomach. “I’m not having this conversation again,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“You don’t have a choice,” her mother snapped. “Do you think we can keep helping you forever? The money’s tight as it is. Your brother’s college is coming up, and we need every penny.”

Y/N’s grip on the phone tightened. “I never asked for your money,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I’ve been supporting myself.”

“For now,” her mother said bitterly. “But how long will that last? Face it, Y/N. You need us more than you think.”

The call ended with her mother muttering something about how ungrateful she was.

Y/N sat there for a long moment, staring at her phone.

By the next morning, the idea of McLaren Ltd. wasn’t just a suggestion anymore—it was the only card left to play.

Y/N hesitated before dialing Logan’s number. The thought of taking this job still didn’t sit right with her. It certainly wasn’t what she wanted. But it was a job, and a damn good one at that, with a reputable company and better yet, an actual paycheck. If she could get her foot in the door, it might buy her the time she needed to figure out what she did want without her parents breathing down her neck.

Before she could psych herself out any further, she pressed the call button.

“Hey, Y/N!” Logan answered, his voice chipper. “What’s up?”

“Hi, Logan,” she said, forcing some brightness into her tone. “Um, about that position you mentioned… at McLaren?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure! Have you thought about it?”

“Yeah,” she said, her fingers flicking non-existent dust off the fabric of her pants. “I think… I think I’d like to apply. If the offer’s still open, that is.”

Logan laughed. “Dude, for you? Of course. It’s still open. I told you—you’d be perfect for it. I can help you with the application if you want. I’ll even put in a good word with HR.”

Her chest tightened at his enthusiasm, but she managed a small smile. “Thanks, Logan. That means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it. You’re going to kill it,” he said confidently. 

Logan seemed to believe it enough for the both of them.

As she hung up, she glanced at the email on her laptop again, this time with a mix of determination and resignation. She wasn’t doing this for her parents. Or for Logan, great as he was.

She was doing it because, for once, she needed something to work out—something she could call her own. Even if it wasn’t the perfect fit, it was a start. And maybe, just maybe, it would lead her somewhere she never expected.

[mysecertdiaryofableedingheart]

A Lil Office Romance 5

Terry Richmond X Black Fem OC  (Troi)

No warnings: Light heart fluff. A little flirty

For the first time in well, ever, I'm actually sad it's Friday. The weekend meant no lunches with Terry, no playful flirting, and no hearing his enjoyment of my specialty-curated desserts.

"Well Wifey, I don't know if I'll survive the weekend without my daily sweets" Terry nudged my shoulder as we entered the parking garage.

" Terry you ate almost a dozen cookies between today and yesterday. Your blood sugar is probably through the roof!" I couldn't help but chastise him while hitting the key fob to unlock my 2016 Rav4.

"Troi, you got me addicted; you can't have me going through withdrawals," Terry said, reaching to open the door for me. The week of unfiltered attention from Terry deepened my crush. He's such a gentleman, barely even letting me carry my purse and playfully swatting my hand away from door handles so that he would always be the one to open them for me.

"Two days won't kill you, Terry a little detox might be good for you" I couldn't help but tease taking my purse and cardigan from his outstretched hands

"Now Pretty girl why would I need a detox from you? " Terry's eye flickered down to my exposed thighs now that my skirt had ridden up from sitting in the driver seat " Could I kidnap you for one day to get my fix" his tongue peeked out to moisten his bottom lip.

Maybe 15 seconds had passed before I could find my voice again. " I'm not opposed to that. But I'm boring. I don't know if you wanna waste your weekend with me," I chuckled, trying to chase away the sight of his tongue running across his lip.

"Troi trust me, you couldn't bore me if you tried. How about I call you tonight and run my plans by you" Terry tapped the top of my car backing away enough for me to be able to close the door.

I rolled my window down so that he could see my nod of agreement.

Terry

Maybe I laid it on a little thick, But hey Troi is oblivious to the effect she has on me .. shoot anyone. I couldn't be sorry with how Troi rewarded my heavy flirting with her glazed-over eyes and parted lips. I could now confirm she wants me as badly as I do her.

Watching her pull off and receiving a small wave and smile. I couldn't help but start to run through my plans to wow her over the weekend.

As bad as my appetite for Troi physically, my need to make her smile is winning out.

Troi

"Mommy, what am I supposed to do here asked me to lunch on Saturday in the park" I couldn't help but whine over the phone to my mom.

"Girl, what do you mean supposed to do? Go! Let that boy take you out! " my mother snapped playfully. I may have gotten my looks from her but my personality couldn't be more the opposite where I lacked in her personality my reserved Father took up.

I could hear my daddy grunt in the background, "What's the boy's name again? I need to run a background check on him before you go anywhere"

"No daddy you will not!" embarrassed welled up inside of me from the thought of Terry finding out my dad did a background check on him "we work for the same company, he couldn't have gotten the job without a background check!"

"Vern now hush getting her all riled up, baby go ahead where that lil green top you showed me a minute ago" Momma corrected my father and reassured me all in the same breathe "And tell me all about when you come back"

"Okay, Mama" I shouted back digging into my drawer for the mentioned top and jeans that matched.

♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️

Saturday 11am

Terry

A newly required blanket and picnic basket, all I needed to do was wrap the pink peonies Troi let slip were her favorite flowers

A newly required blanket and picnic basket, all I needed to do was wrap the pink peonies Troi let slip were her favorite flowers. Only 1 hour until they meet in Daffin Park for our date. 

I couldn't believe I was nervous, I felt like I was in high school preparing for my first date. I loaded up my Ford F150 to head over to the park to set up

12:30pm

Troi was now sporting a slicked-back ponytail a green knitted top with green resting on her hips. She waved excitedly as she spotted me under the oak tree. I knew she hadn't seen the flowers hiding behind my back.

"Terry I love the picnic basket I didn't know they even made these things anymore." She gushed setting her bag on to the blanket.

Pulling the flower behind my back to present to her

Troi's grin was the best reward as she reached for the bouquet "I love them, I can't believe you remembered"

Helping her to sit down I replied "Of course, I remember everything you tell me" and I did the little glimpse I got into her world was embedded into my memory over the last 5 days.

Troi played with the handle of the picnic basket clearing her throat. "Umm, what's in here to nibble on?"

♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️

Troi

It felt like I was on cloud 9 Sitting with Terry. Crumbling up the wrapper to my Publix sub. I set it into the bag.

"Now Troi answer me this, Is anyone be mad I'm sitting here with you right now?" Terry was leaning back to rest on his forearms as he gazed over at me

"Yeah" I chuckled "My Daddy he doesn't think I should have male friends until I'm 40" recalling my dad's desire to run a background check on him

"You know Pops don't gotta be mad, I ain't trying to be your friend" Terry chuckled darkly

"What? Terry, of course, you're my friend. My Dad is just an ornery old man who's too overprotective" I leaned across the blanket parallel to him.

Terry shifted his upper body so that our shoulders were touching "Troi, I'm trying to be way more than your friend. pretty girl" my senses were invaded by the smell of his cologne and the subtle heat of his shoulder. I couldn't think straight at his admission of more than friends. "Is that okay with you?"

Troi

Nothing Even Matters by D'Angelo and Lauryn Hill poured through the speakers of Terry's lifted-up F150 truck. Pulling into my driveway I couldn't help but pout at the end of my time with Terry coming near.

"Don't you touch that door, pretty girl. I'm coming around"

I took a deep breath to prepare myself for Terry to invade my personal space. I knew I was going to need him to hold on to cause getting out of his truck without falling was dang near impossible.

Terry was over in a flash open the door to reveal his muscular tattooed arm wait to help me out.

His large hands almost covered my waist as he handled me with ease out of the passenger seat. "I had a good time Terry, thank you for the picnic" finally having my feet firmly planted

His hand was still resting on my waist, as he looked down at me closing the small gap that separated us.

"Pretty girl, I should be thanking you. Making my Saturday worthwhile" his hand came up to cup my neck. " you know you never answered me about being more than friends"

My mind completely went blank due to Terry's thumb gently stroking where my ear met my neck.

♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️♣️♥️

Terry

The sound that came from Troi, made my pants uncomfortably tighten. "You gonna be a good girl and use your words Troi?" She nodded her head "Words pretty girl?"

In a breathy whisper Troi finally found her answer "Yes, I wanna be more than your friend too"

I couldn’t help but dip down to kiss her right cheek. "We gonna work on defining that a little more" I took a step back to put a little distance between us before I took it way too far.

Troi surprised me by wrapping her arms around my neck causing me to crouch down so that she wouldn't have to strain on her tippy toes. Her soft lips connected with my cheek returning the display of affection.

"Alright pretty girl, I gotta let you go now before I kidnap you foreal" I reached to open the back seat to hand her the bouquet. Watching Troi walk backwards towards her door I couldn't help but smile. Maybe she is as down bad as I am for her.

Taglist:  @blackwomanarebeautiful @dimepiece09 @vinicinha @ovohanna24 @blackpinup22 @disc0fairy @slippinninque

[bugfail]

With the strike and ai shit going on at the same time I am afraid that Hollywood is going to produce ai written movies. Not only that but ai bros and critics will praise it for being "abstract" when it's really just dogshit

[zeb-z]

also okay. Leo voiding and Foolish going “that’s alright I’ll just wait. I can wait. I wait.” like yeah totem boy that’s all you ever do isn’t it. waiting loyally for Vegetta to come back, for his plans to find fruition, for islanders and federation workers alike to take him seriously, for Leo to return now, just like he waited for her before, keeping patience like none other. he’ll wait - that’s kinda his thing.

[goldenpinof]

.

[vaxxildamn]

very happy Matt decided to clarify his stance on the genocide of the Palestinian people rn. Pretty unhappy with the way he worded it, who he centered in his video, and disappointed to see the responses to it on Twitter.

kinda scared to even post about it bc CR fans can get so defensive about their favorite white people that they can often leave little room for criticism or nuance. but man I have thoughts.

[jorvikzelda]

cat will fix me. convinced of this

[helielune]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhgggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[onrainynights]

every day that goes by it feels more and more likely that I'll get this promotion and I can't believe I'm at a place in my life where that's even a possibility. like last year I had just the absolute worst time with employment and just had a horrible year in general but I feel like I got so lucky finding this job. except they felt lucky to find ME. like the hiring manager told me she was so happy to have multiple candidates and that I was easily the best out of the group (she's had to hire people out of desperation/only having one candidate before and they never worked out bc they weren't good fits at all) and my confidence has skyrocketed since I started working there because my boss and coworkers treat me like an equal even though I'm young and relatively inexperienced. they treat me like they believe I'm capable and competent and it makes me feel capable and competent and it's incredible. the idea that I could be getting a promotion for the first time in my life after only 3 months at this place is insane but I'm so hopeful because nobody acts like it's a far-fetched idea. I'm taken seriously and it gave me the confidence I needed to actually say that I'm interested in that promotion and that I know I'm capable of doing that position. plus the company itself is great honestly, I feel really lucky to work there. even as a part time employee at the lowest level I feel genuinely important and appreciated. I've already met the person who would be my boss if I get promoted and she seems just as respectful as everyone else. are all employee-owned companies like this???