#i will be thinking about you even at the ends of the world
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Cozy Fantasy and Why It Doesn't Work
I think I am among many who feel like they should love cozy fantasy and have found it an incredibly lacking genre.
This newly branded "cozy fantasy" genre that has taken readers by storm since 2020 and while it is new that books are now marketed as cozy, the genre itself isn't new. Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones is a great example of the genre before it was labeled and also how to make it work.
Cozy fantasy is defined by many as fantasy with low stakes. Fantasy aesthetic but less sword fights. On paper, it sounds great. But the execution has been less than stellar for readers like me. The lack of physical stakes has also impacted the emotional stakes of these books, creating forgettable characters with boring problems. As a romance reader, I find this frustrating. Romance is known for being a predictable and formulaic genre, the now defunct Romance Writers of America defined romances as needing happy endings, a term romances have continued to follow. Yet these romance texts manage to have low physical stakes (how to date your neighbor, how to confront your toxic friends, etc) while still maintaining high personal stakes that keep readers invested and begging for more. So I was initially confused why cozy fantasy authors struggle to write texts that connect to readers like me.
I think I have found the answer which is the genre is just here for vibes. It is all about aesthetic, not even worldbuilding that fantasy is known for as most cozy fantasy I read have so many problems as soon as you ask one question. It is hard to acknowledge that a genre that is pitched to work for readers like me doesn't work for many of us. Especially because occasionally there is one that works beautifully to my taste.
I often say my favorite cozy fantasies that are more contemporary are short and visual, which I plays into the idea of the genre being an aesthetic. The Bakery Dragon by Devin Elle Kurtz is a good example because it is a simple story that is given the perfect amount of pages and gorgeous visuals without dragging on when the message is very clear and easy to understand. Books like The Phoenix Keeper and Legends and Lattes have absolutely nothing for me, their very clear message hitting the reader over and over so the readers don't miss it and focusing on the aesthetic of worldbuilding rather than the reality of the fantastic elements within the world.
I guess my point is. . . I realize this genre isn't for me since I have realized it is more of an aesthetic than anything. .. .but I want it to be. Should I let it go and put my efforts elsewhere? Or should I keep exploring this new trend and find the hidden gems?
#cozy fantasy#cosy fantasy#booklr#sorry for this kind of negative post#but i think people in my circle will vibe
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do you think i'll ever get to a place in my life where i'm actually a good person and i don't keep getting bombarded with people telling me all the ways i'm doing things wrong. will i ever stop feeling like i'm faking being good and i'm actually a despicable person deep down inside like there's something rotten and irremovable in the very core of me. i feel sick
As a recovering self-hater I have a few things that have been helping
Truly shitty people are typically, in my experience, not chronically preoccupied with anxieties that they need to be better. It seems to be the 100% rock-solid certainty that everything you ever do is selfless that you need to watch out for.
Motive only matters in court. If you donate 30 hours a week to charity so you can tell yourself you're a good person or you donate that same time because you genuinely enjoy helping people, that's still 30 hours, imo. At that point the argument is more philosophical than anything. The help is still happening.
Nobody can read your mind. You can be the bitterest, cattiest, most judgemental and mean-spirited motherfucker alive, but as long as you don't let your feelings hurt others, you're golden. In fact, I personally think you should get extra credit for effort. Swimming upriver ain't easy
None of us are selfless by nature. That's okay. We all crave attention, and validation, and comfort, and reward. That self-interest is a survival skill. It's not going anywhere and I don't think it should. The key is moderation, self control, and consideration for others.
The loudest voice in your head probably isn't yours. Survivors of all kinds of abuse- and all abuse is psychological to varying extremes- often keep their critic's narrative in their head. That voice that says you're awful- is that something you'd say to someone else? No? Then try to figure out who said it to you. They were probably an asshole. The voice that answers it it probably your own. Listen to that one
No, you will not feel like this forever. It's a pain in the ass, but dedicating time and thought into ignoring that inner critic and elevating your positive impulses is effective.
Some things I've done myself that seem to help:
Do some research on cognitive behavioral therapy and cognitive reprogramming. These are easier to exercise with a therapist but once you figure out the steps to follow you can do them on your own, too.
When you do something good, write it down for yourself. Keep a dated journal, either on paper or in your phone. When you find yourself in a pit of self-loathing, you can go back and remind yourself of all the good you've done. If this is hard, try listing 3 good things you did at the end of each day. Anything from picking up a scrap of litter to running a food drive.
Long post, but really, the best thing I can say is this:
Aything that takes effort is worth celebrating, even if that effort is minimal or that task is considered small.
At the end of the day, "bare minimum" isn't working a full-time job and eating three meals a day, cleaning up after yourself and doing it with a smile- bare minimum is nothing. Bare minimum is laying on the floor motionless for 24 hours and filter-feeding like a sea sponge. And if even that's difficult for you, then it's not your bare minimum, is it?
There's a lot of cruel, inconsiderate, uncaring people in the world, only out for themselves at the expense of others, and even if you think you're one of them, giving a shit about doing better still puts you a mile ahead of most.
Try not to worry too terribly. If you're thinking about it, you're probably doing fine👍
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𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
FICMAS DAY 3: GIFT-GIVING
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: as bucky’s secret santa, you’re determined to give him the best christmas present he’s ever received.
contains: grumpy buck fluff, some angst, idiots who are crushing hard, swearing
word count: 2.4k
a/n: this is a long one i’m apologizing in advance
i am SO SORRY for crickets in the ficmas department the past week, i hit a big brick wall with this and i’ve been so all over the place with my own holiday planning and such that i ended up having to cut the masterlist in half because i knew i couldn’t get it all done. i’m very sorry to anyone who was looking forward to what got scrapped, but i couldn’t bring myself to rush through writing and put out something i don’t believe it my best work.
also, do people even want avengers fix it fics anymore?? i debated between the “everything is fine the team lives at the compound together” vibe and setting this post tfatws, but ultimately decided the former was easier to write. and i think it worked in my favor because this turned out really cute :)
!! divider by @strangergraphics !!
FICMAS MASTERLIST
your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.
who’s idea was this again? wanda? tony? steve? it didn’t matter anymore. all that mattered right now was that you didn’t pass out in the elevator. a feat that was becoming more and more difficult the closer you got to your destination.
a secret santa is supposed to bring you joy, not near paralyzing anxiety.
at first, you were 100% on board with participating in a gift exchange. as much as you wanted to shower all of your teammates with presents galore, not everyone shared the same sentiment, and thus the idea of a secret santa was proposed.
excitement courses through your veins as you reach your hand into the cheap santa hat tony grabbed from god knows where in storage, with little pieces of paper containing the names of your fellow avengers. you decided to wait until you were back in the privacy of your room to open it up, afraid of any wandering eyes taking a peak. the last thing you wanted was the element of surprise to be stripped away. it was half the fun after all.
as sam pulls the last name, you quietly excuse yourself and all but rush upstairs, too eager to get in the holiday spirit and brainstorm. as soon as the door shuts behind you, you hurriedly reveal the contents of the paper.
if it’s natasha, i can get her a pair of ballet slippers. she’s been mentioning how she wants to start dancing again.
what about bruce? maybe a journal for all his ideas? he always seems to be losing sticky notes in the lab.
a million different ideas swirl around in your head, reminding you just how much joy this time of year brings. to you, there was nothing better than seeing the gleeful looks on people’s faces when they opened their gifts. the corners of your mouth turn up at the memory of your first christmas with the team. how shy and reluctant you were, afraid of going overboard. now, a few years later, you’re completely unabashed in showing just how much you care about them.
your bright smile morphs into a deep frown as you unfold the paper.
bucky barnes.
quite possibly the most difficult person you could’ve chosen.
to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with bucky. he may be a bit grumpy and standoffish, but it’s with good reason and you know it. that also doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be impossible to try and shop for.
what do you get for the man who seemingly despises anything the modern world has to offer? the same man who you’re 99% sure hates your guts. come to think of it, how did you even pull him? he most definitely wasn’t downstairs 20 minutes ago when everyone scribbled down their names and tossed them in tony’s direction.
it was irrelevant now. you were stuck being his secret santa, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give james buchanan barnes the best christmas gift he’s ever gotten in his century-long lifetime.
the two weeks it took to come up with an idea sure felt like a century. if it wasn’t for the concerning amount of snooping you did, you’d probably be showing up empty handed. thankfully, at almost 1 in the morning on a random tuesday, a lightbulb went off in your brain. you scrambled bright and early the next day to go shopping, and by some lucky form of divine intervention, you acquired the perfect gift.
flash forward to now, and you’re carrying an insanely large box up to bucky’s room. in a blatant stray from what the rest of the team was doing, you decided to give him his present one on one, secluded from everyone else. partly because you were afraid of public embarrassment if he hated it, and partly because you knew bucky wasn’t very fond of being put on display.
you hope he’ll at least be grateful for that.
when the elevator finally chimes, signaling you’ve arrived at the dormitory floor, the box nearly slips from your grasp. not just from how heavy it was, but from the nervous sweat coating your palms.
the hallway is quiet enough to hear a pin drop, save for the faint sound of christmas music playing over the speakers. with careful, calculated steps, you make your way down the length of the corridor, dragging your feet the closer you get to bucky’s room. there’s a small part of you that hopes he’s downstairs in the gym, the kitchen, the backyard, anywhere but here. dropping and dashing wasn’t what you had in mind, but the anxious thumping of your heart was becoming unbearable. you know it will only amplify tenfold if you’re forced to stare into those steel blue eyes of his. the thought alone sends a chill down your spine.
you freeze in place when you hear the sound of a door knob clicking open.
please be wanda’s room, please be wanda’s room.
in front of you, the very last door on the left creaks open, revealing the tall and brooding super soldier whose company you were aiming to avoid.
it’s easy to forget how handsome bucky barnes is when he normally does nothing but grimace in your direction.
you still weren’t used to his new haircut, but it was clear he felt significantly more confident with it. is that a hint of aftershave, or cologne? whatever it was, the scent fit him perfectly; cedarwood with a hint of spice. the green henley he wears fits snugly against his broad frame, emphasizing all the muscles you’ve been caught staring at on more than one occasion. for once, he’s not wearing a scowl, though that changes when he catches sight of you.
surely you must look strange, standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hall with a box covered in santa-printed wrapping paper and a big bow that you can barely hold. right now the floor opening up and swallowing you whole was at the top of your wish list. and st. nick better make it quick.
bucky’s expression shifts from one of disdain to curiosity as he quirks a brow wordlessly. your own knit together in frustration, knowing you now had no choice but to do this exchange face to face.
“need any help?” he questions monotonously. as much as you want to be prideful and reject it, your arms feel like they’re going to fall off any second. he seems to catch your drift despite a verbal response, because in the blink of an eye he’s striding towards you, sweeping the gift from your arms and into his own with ease. you try not to gape at the way his biceps strain against fabric.
you stutter out a “thanks,” as you straighten out your sweater. bucky grunts in return and eyes the package in his hands cautiously. you’re half expecting him to shake it like a child when you catch the tiniest twitch of his upper lip.
it’s the closest thing to a smile he’s ever shown in your presence. something that gives you the courage to actually form a sentence instead of continuing to gawk at him.
here goes nothing.
“this is for you, actually,” you manage to shakily breathe out. bucky halts his observations, a glimmer of surprise briefly dancing across his face.
a beat of silence passes between you. “don’t remember asking for anything," he finally says. it’s still laced with his typical dry sarcasm, but there’s a legitimate amusement in his tone that can’t be missed.
you narrow your eyes at him playfully, feeling a little bit more at ease now that he didn’t completely rebuff you.
“i’m your secret santa, smartass,” you jab with your hands on your hips.
for the first time ever, bucky smirks at you.
“don’t recall asking for that either.”
you throw your hands up in defense, offering him a surprisingly nonchalant shrug. “don’t blame me, i’m pretty sure steve was the one who put your name in.”
“punk,” the man grumbles. he shakes his head, attention turning back to the present in hand once more.
despite his apparent annoyance, you can’t seem to stop yourself from continuing on.
“i know you’re supposed to do this kind of thing with everyone around,” you start off shaky, afraid of upsetting him any more than you may already have. his gaze immediately falls to you upon hearing your voice.
“i also know you’re not a big fan of being the center of attention,” you continue, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “figured you’d like this better if it was in private.”
bucky’s features soften. his jaw unclenched, his eyes not so narrow and judgmental. he looks relieved, flattered; a myriad of things you can’t name or place.
“i appreciate that,” he admits, suddenly shy and impish. for a second, he completely forgets about the gift you brought. the simple fact that you were kind enough to consider his feelings, despite how cold he could be to you, makes his heart skip a beat.
you simply nod your head in reply, teetering back and forth on your feet awkwardly trying to decipher your next move.
“you don’t have to open that right now you know.”
he sets the box down on the floor next to his door. “kinda defeats the purpose don’t you think?”
you shrug. “whatever you’re comfortable with. doesn’t matter what you’re “supposed to do.””
why did you care so much about his comfort level? he hardly showed any concern for yours. the notion consumes his thoughts, prohibiting him from offering anything except a nod of acknowledgement.
that awkward silence comes once again, signaling maybe you’ve overstayed your welcome, or that the moment of peace is over. you check your watch in hopes that father time was ending this exchange for you.
just your luck, he’s right on schedule.
“i uh, better get downstairs,” you announce, pointing your thumb in the direction of the elevator. “don’t wanna miss thor forcing everyone to do christmas karaoke.”
a noise akin to laughter snorts out of bucky’s nose, evoking a delightful warmth in your chest. it was different than all the other times you’ve been flustered in the presence of the super soldier. this was less about intimidation and more about…camaraderie. now wondering if maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought.
it’s exactly what you need to reignite your holiday cheer and shed any remaining worries.
before you can second guess, you turn on your heels, closing the gap between your bodies. wrapping a hand around his arm, his metal arm, and offering a gentle caress, the sincerity in your words is clear as day.
“merry christmas buck.”
your touch burns straight through vibranium all the way to his chest. across his entire body, igniting every cell ablaze. a fire consuming him in ways unimaginable.
and yet. he enjoyed the burn.
as you pull away, much to his dismay, the tips of his fingers brush against the inside of your wrist. goosebumps errupt on your skin, from the cool metal, or that fact that bucky was so pretty this close, only time would tell.
“you too,” he murmurs with a faint grin. the soft crinkles by his eyes are likely going to be the subject of your daydreams for the next week.
you flash him a smile over your shoulder before turning down the hall and averting his gaze, not wanting him to see just how much you were blushing.
while unbeknownst to you, bucky was now a very bright shade of red.
he waits until he can hear the elevator doors close before slipping back into his room and very carefully unwrapping the box. there’s a nervousness in his stomach that’s unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. as the bare brown packaging becomes exposed, he begins ripping back the numerous layers of packing tape. you really took your time on this, he thinks to himself.
that funny feeling only amplifies when he sees the contents of the box.
a record player, a very expensive looking one at that, sits inside with another three wrapped items that he concludes are vinyls, judging from their flatness. on top of it all, there was a small note shrouded in luxe stationary. bucky’s heart stutters when he sees his name scribbled delicately in your handwriting.
his fingers falter briefly before he digs into the envelope.
i know this isn’t like the ones from the 40s, but it’s the closest thing i could find. also got a few of your favorite records, and one i think you’ll like too. don’t forget i have quite a collection of my own in case you ever want to try something new.
merry christmas ♡
bucky unceremoniously plops down on the edge of his bed. the normally stiff feeling mattress now mirrored a sea of clouds and feathers. he’d gladly sink into the abyss of softness, if it meant pumping the brakes on his thundering heartbeat.
from the moment he met you, bucky knew he was in trouble.
you had an aura about you that was magnetic, always drawing people in and bathing them in your light. your unconditional kindness and consideration, hell, even your mere presence in a room seemed to liven it up entirely. it was a hypnotizing, almost dangerous thing for the man, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to push people away. for their sake, and his. bucky was certain that once he started keeping his distance, that you’d eventually give up in trying to crack his tough outer shell, or that the silly feelings he had would disappear.
but right now, as he’s staring at your handwriting and rubbing his thumb repeatedly over that little heart, he knows it was all in vain.
later that night, he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the familiar croon of it’s been a long, long time wafting from his present. he tries to focus on the beauty of the song, or the lights he can see from his window twinkling out on the lawn, but it’s nearly impossible. you’re the subject of all his thoughts. have been since the moment he saw you standing out in the hall. from the scent of your perfume to the little intricacies of your penmanship. the thing that’s plaguing him the most, however, is your hand on his arm.
bucky’s real arm had been gone for over half a century, having stopped experiencing phantom limb syndrome ages ago. yet somehow he felt it there, clear as day. the same tactile sensations on his flesh, right arm, in the metal prosthetic of his left. an electric shock that he’s never recognized before, and that he wouldn’t be opposed to feeling again.
tomorrow, he plans to thank steve for mischievously adding his name into the lottery.
and to ask you about your record collection.
thanks for reading! <3
tag list: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals
!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!
#retrosabers#sid writes shit#ficmas#ficmas 2024#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes#the falcon and the winter soldier#sebastian stan
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🥊 older brother!soonyoung vs. boyfriend!jihoon.
@choco-scoups -> "what do we think about brother's best friend jihoon, but your brother is soonyoung"
ⓘ cussing, good-natured sibling bickering, suggestive joke. headcanons under the cut.
🥊 jihoon's notes on surviving the kwon siblings .ᐟ
The Kwon siblings are sulky as hell. Jihoon had thought that Soonyoung was the king of brooding, but then he met you. If he weren't dating you, he might even be impressed. As it is, though, he can only focus on managing the two of you's moods. Sure, Jihoon is a little biased. He thinks you're cute when you get all pouty; it makes him want to pinch your cheeks and hold you until that frown is gone from your face. When it's Soonyoung, though, he's a lot more exasperated. "You're a grown man, Soon. Get over it," he might grouse— right before turning to a sullen you and asking if you want a kiss.
The Kwon siblings bicker. A lot. Jihoon doesn't have any brothers or sisters of his own, so he spent quite a bit of time worrying if the two of you were normal. He quickly learned that most siblings tend to butt heads, though you and Soonyoung tended to be a little more... over the top than the average pair. One too many times, Jihoon has been caught in between the two of you's screaming matches. His three-step plan to coming out unscathed is to 1) not take sides, 2) only step in if/when physical altercation occurs, and 3) try not to insult either of you. Even if he is inclined to believe that you're right, more often than not.
The Kwon siblings can be clingy. Before he was your boyfriend, Jihoon was Soonyoung's best friend. And so Jihoon had grown used to Soonyoung's insistences for meals out, Soonyoung's need to be responded to lest he thinks it's the end of the world. When it turned out that you were more or less similar, Jihoon could only shake his head and sigh to himself. He should have known what he was getting into. Really, Jihoon has the patience of a saint in balancing your overthinking and Soonyoung's peskiness. It's a whole love language, and Jihoon is fluent.
Soonyoung loves you. It's not something he says often. Call it the tendency of brothers to brush off emotion or downplay their own sentiments. But Soonyoung loves you in a ride-or-die kind of way, in an if-anything-happens-to-you-I-don't-know-what-I'd-do kind of way. Jihoon knows this. He knows it well. When you and Jihoon had started dating, Soonyoung had been fully supportive. He made a couple of 'jabs' here and there— "If you break their heart, I'll never forgive you!"— but Jihoon knew from the look in his best friend's eye, the set in Soonyoung's jaw, that it wasn't that much of a joke. Jihoon knows that Soonyoung trusting him with you is no small thing. He makes sure not to take it for granted.
You love Jihoon. You love Soonyoung. You would never— not in a million lifetimes— choose Jihoon over Soonyoung. Even though you've threatened bodily harm on Soonyoung more times than can be counted; even though Jihoon is everything that you could want and more. Blood runs thicker than water. Jihoon knows that, too. That's why he never makes you choose. He's content to share the spot of 'favorite person' with your brother, the same way that there's no one else in the world that he trusts more than you two.
+ When the three of you are able to get it together long enough to go somewhere without gauging each other's eyes out, it's those moments that Jihoon secretly adores the most. He sometimes falls quiet, letting you and Kwon fill the conversation at the table, and he thinks of the time you forced him to watch that one Disney movie. Looks like the princess was right; Jihoon is spoken for. Everyone he's ever loved is here, within these walls, at this table, and he couldn't be more happy about it.
✉︎ jayyy! i know you said i could "keep this for a while," but when the req features two people on my bias line.. well! (ᗒᗨᗕ)
› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ �� 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao
#jihoon smau#jihoon imagines#jihoon x reader#woozi smau#woozi imagines#woozi x reader#soonyoung smau#soonyoung imagines#hoshi smau#hoshi imagines#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine#── ᵎᵎ ✦ reqs#[ whenever i do brother x bf smaus i always go kinda insane over what to tag LOL ]#[ also: i got this req and couldn't stop giggling ab it days after ]#[ so i just had to. god ily soonhoon ]#[ ALSO: i miss writing ab woozi :( ahuhuhu ]
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older!rafe and sensitive!reader spending the holidays together
18+ mdni!
c/w: fluff, her ovulating and being horny, smut: p-in-v, slight breeding kink, use of dad
wc: 1.5k
ugh i’ve missed this man
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Why is he doin’ that shit?”
“Rafe, it’s a rom-com,” she reasons, practically glued to him on their couch with the way she keeps shifting closer and closer, almost unconsciously at this point.
“Yeah, a shitty one. Why was it necessary to do a whole fuckin’ speech at the mall? He couldn’t jus’ I dunno, tell her how he felt?” he scoffs, clearly fed up with the entire film already.
She can’t stop the bubbly laughter from escaping her when she looks over to his scowling face. “I mean, this is actually getting kinda weird…why’s everyone watching them?”
“Yeah, ‘n why are they still on that fuckin’ stage?” he grumbles while the couple is now fully making out on the TV screen.
“Please don’t ever do anything like that to me.”
“Yeah, was actually gonna ask, you, uh, you wanna go shoppin’ tomorrow?”
“No!” she giggles before taking a sip of the hot chocolate she’d made for herself (because Rafe deliberately told her he didn’t want any) but the minute she’d sat down with the mug in hand, he’d wanted to try it, which ended up with him drinking nearly half of it.
“Oh shit, forgot to give you this earlier, look what I got you today,” he suddenly murmurs.
“Hm?” her eyes flit over to his face; momentarily distracted by his pretty features as he searches for something from the back pocket of his pants. Then, he’s pulling a golden necklace from a velvety box.
“That looks really expensive,” she nervously mumbles, pausing the TV in order to concentrate on the heart-shaped locket he’s holding out to her.
“You deserve the fuckin’ world, it was nothin’ alright? Can think of it as an early Christmas present if it makes you feel better,” he rolls his eyes, almost exasperated that she still can’t seem to comprehend the fact that he enjoys spending his money on her.
“It’s so beautiful,” she croons as she inspects the piece of jewelry with careful fingertips, heart swelling in her chest at the sentiment— recalling how she’d mentioned something about thinking pendants like these were adorable maybe once.
“Yeah? You like it?”
“I love it. Wait, you had your initials carved into it too? That’s so cute, Ray, what the hell?” she feels her eyes grow watery because her boyfriend really is her favorite person in the whole wide world for a reason.
“Yeah, know you’re into sappy shit like that, ‘n you can put m’picture inside too ‘n you’ll always have me with you or whatever the fuck.”
“Shut up, you’re so sweet! I love you,” she exclaims before she’s wrapping her arms around his neck— climbing into his lap in the process while he murmurs into her hair how he apparently ‘loves her more’, which she thinks is not possible.
“Let me put it on you?” he says before he’s swiping away some strands in order to clasp the locket around her neck. “Look so pretty with m’name on you.”
“Wait, you should have my name on you too,” she jokingly utters out next.
“Been thinkin’ about gettin’ it tattooed actually,” he admits, completely serious, which makes her face scrunch up.
“You’re not getting my name tattooed on you— you’re crazy,” she softly hits his chest. However, he can barely even feel it because she really doesn’t have a single violent bone in her body.
“Yeah, crazy ‘bout you,” he grins, eliciting an airy giggle from her.
Knowing she’s about to complain about him being weird again, he shuts her up with a press of his mouth against hers— a surprised noise leaving her when she’s momentarily taken aback by the sudden cushion of his lips.
And it’s sloppy, the way they slot together like puzzle pieces when she opens up for him, but both of them prefer it that way.
His kiss was meant to be something sweet but soon enough she’s rutting against him— whimpering into his mouth as if it’s been years since the last time they did this. And all too soon for her liking, he’s pulling away.
“Somethin’ you want?”
“…no,” she lies through her teeth.
“No? Jus’ uh, humpin’ me like a bitch in heat for no reason then, hm?” he raises his brows; eyes fixed on her frustrated features.
“Ray...” she huffs out; a frown already forming on her spit-slicked lips.
“Yeah?” he asks, giving her a soft peck as encouragement.
“Want you…” she pants against his mouth.
“But m’right here?” the furrow of his brows displays faux confusion.
“You know what I mean,” she whines; shifting around in his lap some more.
“M’afraid I don’t. If there’s somethin’ you want, you gonna have to tell me,” the edge of his mouth curls annoyingly when he decides to toy with her, always finding so much entertainment from her struggle.
However, she merely grants him another whine.
“Wha’s up with you today, hm? So fuckin’ needy, actin’ like you haven’t been fucked in a month when you were literally cryin’ on m’cock last night?” he murmurs while thumbing at her pouty bottom lip.
“I don’t know…jus’ need you so bad,” her eyes begin to gloss over when he’s still not giving her what she so desperately craves.
“Baby, there’s no need to cry, yeah?” he sticks his thumb past her lips; an attempt to placate her, even if he thinks she never looks prettier than with her eyes all wet and forlorn.
“You’re ovulatin’ right now, aren’t ya?” his brain finally fits together the very telltale signs as he plucks his phone from the coffee table— opening the app that tracks her period cycle.
“Think so, yeah,” she mumbles, mindlessly sucking on the digit resting on her tongue as she sniffles.
It’s no surprise to either of them when his assumption proves to be right.
“Think you need me to fuck a baby in you, s’that it? Wanna make me a real daddy?” he croons.
“Mhm…want you,” her words are muffled around his thumb.
“I know, sweetheart. Don’t want anyone but you carryin’ m’kids— think about knockin’ you up so fuckin’ often, you know?”
“You do?”
“Yeah, know you’d be such a good mom.”
“You think? I think you’d be the best dad, sometimes wish you were my dad,” she rambles mindlessly, the conversation suddenly teetering on the edge of something else entirely.
“Shit, such an angel face ‘n then there’s this rotten mind inside, huh?” he tuts in disapproval, appearing disgusted as if he doesn’t get even harder in response to her words— something raw, primitive stirring in the pit of his stomach whenever she says things like that.
“M’sorry dad,” she offers him an impish smile.
“Someone’s in a mood today?” he chuckles, narrowing his eyes in a playful manner.
“Can you take off your pants?” she complains while attempting to loosen his belt but with her mind buzzing like a honeybee it’s proving to be a rather demanding.
“Can’t do anythin’ without dad’s help, can you? Go on, let’s see if you can take me out by yourself, yeah?” he rasps out, tone challenging.
“No, need your help, daddy, I can’t—”
“Shit, you’re fuckin’ pathetic,” he murmurs, somehow managing to turn something so patronizing into something affectionate as he swats away her helpless hands and yanks the belt open himself.
“See? Not that fuckin’ hard, was it?” he mutters out as his thumb slips out of her mouth before he’s pulling himself out. And even if he’s not even fully hard yet, and she’s seen it more times than she can count, she’s still mesmerized by the sight— eyes rounding out while she simply stares as if she’s under some spell.
“You’re so pretty,” she blinks at him, eyes moony.
“Still not tired of seein’ it, huh?”
She shakes her head.
And since she’s not wearing any pants (as usual), he only has to tug the fabric of her underwear to the side in order to reveal her messy cunt.
“Ray…” she whines when he merely smears the drippy head over her folds; thudding it against her clit to get her to whimper some more.
“Hm? Want it inside? Wha’s the magic word?” he looks at her with something amused twinkling in his eyes.
“Please. Dad, it hurts,” she sniffles, desperately trying to rub against him in an attempt to alleviate the ache.
“Hurts? Think you bein’ a little dramatic, no?” he lets out a breathy chuckle, making her huff out in frustration.
“M’not, Ray, please, need you so bad,” wet droplets stain her cheeks while she tries to uselessly blink them away.
“Shh, s’okay. Dad’s bein’ mean again, isn’t he? M’sorry, baby, I’ll give you what you want, yeah?” his voice is a deep rumble before he’s finally tucking the tip into her weepy cunt, causing both of them to moan in tandem when she practically sucks him in— his fingerprints denting the skin of her thighs when he aids her movements to his liking.
“Yeah? That what you wanted? Always such a tight fuckin’ fit, huh?” he grunts against her mouth; hips meeting hers halfway as he stuffs himself deeper.
“Mm, I love you,” she whimpers— practically feeling him in her guts as his cock pokes at the spongy spot inside her while his big hands help situate her on top of him, and she thinks this might just be heaven on earth.
#did i write this a few weeks ago while *i*was ovulating?#no (yes)#older!rafe#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#older!rafe cameron#outerbanks rafe#obx rafe cameron#rafe smut#rafe fluff#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron scenarios#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron blurb#rafe blurb#rafe au
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Imagine Softie!Jason. To everyone else, he's a bit mean and standoffish. But to you, that man is a Simp and a half. Anything you want or need, he gets you. You say a coworker was mean to you at work, they're apologizing the next day. You linger at a shop window looking at a sweater... it's delivered to your apartment by the end of the week. He's being a little mean to someone at a bar and ready to fight, all you have to do is say his name and smile and he backs down. You have a stressful day, that man makes you cum until you beg him to stop and even then 'just one more... you got one more'.
Unf.
Oh, anon, i think you've low key stolen my heart. I love the idea of jay being soft like that<3
Soft! Jason Todd x Reader
Soft! Jason Todd who loves to hold your hand in public, but will always be looking around to make sure no one is too close to you. He might act like it's no big deal, but he's silently watching, ready to jump into action if someone steps out of line. When you hold his hand back, though, he calms down instantly, finding comfort in your touch.
Soft! Jason Todd who insists on carrying all the heavy bags for you, even when you tell him you’re fine. He acts like it’s no big deal, but you can tell he secretly loves being able to do something for you. He’ll always find a way to carry your stuff, whether it's groceries or a backpack, just to make sure you're not burdened.
Soft! Jason Todd who has a habit of brushing your hair out of your face when you're distracted. He’s rough around the edges but, when it comes to you, he’s gentle, as though every touch is an apology for the harsh world he’s lived in. He’ll do it casually, but there's a softness in his eyes when you catch him.
Soft! Jason Todd who would rather risk a fight with anyone who disrespects you than let you deal with any kind of discomfort. He may look like he’s trying to start something, but the second you look at him with a calm expression, he shuts down, knowing you're the one who can stop his rage. His love for you is his anchor.
Soft! Jason Todd who hates seeing you upset. He’ll try to hide his concern under a facade of indifference, but if you’re upset for too long, he becomes clingy. He’ll either silently pull you into his arms or buy you your favorite food in an attempt to make things better, even if he doesn't know the words.
Soft! Jason Todd who’s always watching your back. No matter where you are, he’s like a shadow, always making sure you’re safe. He’ll act tough, but the minute you say, “I’m fine, Jason, stop worrying,” he’s immediately soft and obedient, stepping back but never really leaving.
Soft! Jason Todd who’s surprisingly shy when it comes to complimenting you. He’ll say something like “You're looking good” in that adorable, gruff tone and look away, but his cheeks betray him with a faint blush. He’ll never admit it, but he can’t stop stealing glances at you when you’re not looking.
Soft! Jason Todd who doesn’t mind if you steal his hoodie. In fact, he loves it when you wear it, and he’ll sneak little glances at you, unable to hide the grin spreading across his face. It’s his subtle way of showing you how much you mean to him without saying a word.
Soft! Jason Todd who likes to surprise you with little gestures of affection. He might leave your favorite snack on your bed or clean up your space when you’re too busy. He doesn't expect recognition, but seeing your smile is more than enough for him.
Soft! Jason Todd who gets worried about you when you're out in public, even if you can take care of yourself. He'll scan the room like a hawk, looking for any potential threat, even if it’s just a crowded store. The second you notice and smile at him, he relaxes, his jaw unclenching.
Soft! Jason Todd who never really shows it, but he loves being the one you rely on. When you need something, whether it’s help with a problem or simply a listening ear, he’ll be there without question. His protective nature is fueled by his deep love for you, even if he doesn’t always express it directly.
Soft! Jason Todd who secretly loves the thought of having you around, even when he's pushing you away. He might act like he’s fine being on his own, but he’ll subtly make sure you’re still close. He’ll start with something like, "You don’t have to stay here," but as soon as you do, his demeanor softens and he’ll quietly be grateful.
Soft! Jason Todd who doesn’t let anyone else touch you without a heavy dose of protectiveness. He may be joking around one moment, but if another guy even looks at you the wrong way, he becomes serious, standing in between you and the person. You can count on him to take care of anything that threatens your space, whether physical or emotional.
Soft! Jason Todd who sometimes gets lost in the little things. Whether it’s the way you laugh or the warmth of your hand in his, he takes note of every detail that makes you, you. Even though he won’t say it out loud, he’s always thinking about how lucky he is to have you in his life.
Soft! Jason Todd who can’t help but stare at you when you're concentrating or absorbed in something. He loves how you get lost in what you're doing, and he admires your focus. His gaze is intense, but he’ll play it cool when you catch him, pretending he wasn’t watching but secretly smirking to himself.
Soft! Jason Todd who turns into a grumpy mess when he sees you in distress. Whether you're upset over something small or big, he’s all action, immediately trying to fix whatever's wrong. He may act like he doesn’t want to talk about feelings, but he’ll listen to yours until the issue is resolved.
Soft! Jason Todd who loves to cuddle with you when you're both home after a long day. He’ll pull you close, acting like he's just tired, but secretly, it’s the only time he feels at peace. When you trace your fingers through his hair, he’ll relax completely and maybe even drift off to sleep.
Soft! Jason Todd who can't help the way his hands begin to wander to massage the fat and muscle of your inner thighs. His thick fingers tend to wander beneath your shirt before snaking under the waistband of your pants to gently dig them into your skin.
Soft! Jason Todd who still acts completely normal as he does so, his eyes still focused on the TV on the wall at the foot of your bed. If you knew any better, you'd think that he didn't even notice how bold his touches had grown. This has happened a few too many times for you not to know better, but no efforts were made to stop him.
Soft! Jason Todd who, before you know it, is rubbing slow, languid circles on your clit through your panties. The friction is almost frustratingly slow, but after the shitty day that you've just experienced, you were thankful for any kind of distraction. You swear you almost let out a whimper just from his calloused fingertips brushing under the elastic of your underwear.
Soft! Jason Todd who takes everything as slow as possible, no matter what responsibilities he may have to deal with later on in the night. He knows that your day was less than ideal, but something about you all frazzled just gets him going. Plus, he knows for a fact that he can pull more orgasms out of you when you're so high-strung.
Soft! Jason Todd who doesn't even trail your panties down your legs and past your knees until you've cum on his fingers once or twice. As much as Jason loves to tease, he knows how uncomfortable your sticky, wet panties must be against your puffy and needy pussy.
Soft! Jason Todd who's kneeling on the ground between your plush thighs before you can even blink, his large hands holding onto your hips as if he'll drown when he lets go. His lips are much slower on your skin, however, as they trail light kisses up your thighs and leave small nips along the way.
Soft! Jason Todd who doesn't adjust his pace as you whine and beg, no matter how much you try to persuade him. Every little complaint you let out about him going too slow earns you a light slap to the side. "Jay, baby... Please. I've already had such a long day-" 'smack!' "Quit your yapping, doll face. You can be a good girl and wait."
Soft! Jason Todd who absolutely devours your weeping pussy once his tongue makes contact with your dripping folds. His muscle leaves absolutely no bit of skin untouched as he gives your pulsing clit a little suck every once in a while. He couldn't hold back his smirk when he looked up to see your eyes rolled back in utter ecstasy.
Soft! Jason Todd who's pace stays relentless, even as your fingers are tugging at his black and white locks. "Oh fuck... Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." The curses fall from your lips like a mantra as you tug on his head, unsure of whether you want to greedily pull him closer or push him away to avoid thr overstimulation that's bound to happen. "Quit pulling me away, ma." He mutters into your cunt, spitting on your already dripping folds as he worships you like a piece of art. "You had 'such a bad day,' right? You were just begging for me to touch this pussy. Let me do my job."
Soft! Jason Todd who ends up betwen your quivering thighs for hours on end, greedily licking up every single drop of your endless orgasms that seem to be ripping through you every few minutes. His strong nose is constantly bumping against your overstimulated clit. You're pretty sure that you've cum from that little of contact alone, at this point.
Soft! Jason Todd who literally has to be torn away from your weeping folds as your eyes water from how much you're feeling. Your glassy eyes are just so beautiful as you look down at him with sore fingers tangled into his hair. "Come on, baby..." He coos, pressing a gentle kiss to your thigh as if he hasn't been pleasuring you for the majority of the evening. "You can handle one more. I know this pretty pussy can handle one more for me."
Soft! Jason Todd who ends up making you squirt on his tongue three more times before he finally stops with a kiss to your achy, puffy clit. As always, he makes sure that you get a taste of yourself on his lips as he kisses you until your tears eventually slow to a stop.
Soft! Jason Todd who doesn't even get himself off on nights like this. The only time he allows himself to orgasm when you're upset is if he ruts himself into the side of the couch or if you want to take out some frustration by gagging on his large, thick cock.
Soft! Jason Todd who carries you to bed and wipes you off with the utmost care after overstimulation like this. Every single hickey he's left on your thighs gets kissed and every drop of your fluid mixed with his spit is carefully wiped away with a cool cloth. He makes sure that only the lighter blankets and comforters are left on the bed so that you don't get too hot as you try to come down from your endless highs of the night.
Soft! Jason Todd who is whispering praises into your hair until you fall asleep, one of his hands holding yours with entwined fingers and the other running soothing circles along your back. "You did so good for me, beautiful..." His voice is nothing more than a mumble amongst the ambience of Gotham City outside of his apartment. "I knew you had it in you, baby. I've got you now... No more stress for today. It's all over."
Masterlist
#batfam#batfamily#batman#dc#redhood#redhood smut#redhood x reader#redhood x reader smut#jason todd x reader#jason todd smut#jason todd#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader smut#jason todd x reader fluff#arkham knight smut#arkham knight x reader#arkham knight
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⋆ beg until i'm in.
ambessa x wife!reader. men and minors dni.
synopsis: you and ambessa are estranged wives, but are you really estranged if she refuses to divorce you, and every time you see each other, you can't help but fall into bed?
cw: light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, getting back together, top ambessa medarda, dom/sub, dom ambessa medarda, she has soft spot for you, pleasure dom ambessaaaaa, just for you though, strapping, rough sex, rough body play, hair-pulling, name-calling, pet names, lesbian sex, dildos, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, overstimulation, she is strapping you down, you will not be walking, cock worship, blow jobs, the strap is the cock in question no men i swear to god, mommy kink, praise kink, mating press, age difference, older woman/younger woman, marriage, she does not play about you, realizing this might have slight primal play, orgasm edging, begging, spanking, impact play notes: i am a FREAK about this woman. also i wrote this for @sheloveschai because she has been bringing me joy through their work and i want to do the same.
“she thinks i’m a monster.”
the words hung in the air, dense as the afternoon heat, heavy as ambessa’s head in your lap. how you’d ended up here—her armor gone, her weight so familiar—felt like one of those moments you’d look back on, trying to pin down the thread that led you here. you couldn’t.
your lives were separate. estranged wives, that’s what you told yourself. she wouldn’t divorce you, and you weren’t exactly rushing to draw up the papers. but estrangement was such a tidy, convenient word like the absence between you both was clean and intentional. it wasn’t. she blurred the edges every time she showed up unannounced, stepping into the space she left behind like it still belonged to her. and maybe it did.
she came today, her arrival marked by the low hum of her car pulling up the dirt road. the ranch was still, caught in that honeyed pause between afternoon and evening. the house she’d bought for you sat perched on its patch of green, neat but unpretentious—a porch for watching storms, white siding that seemed to glow in the late sun. the kind of place that felt like it had existed long before you arrived, waiting for someone to live in it properly. around it, the land stretched wide, unbroken except for the fences hemming in the garden you’d built with your own hands.
you were out there, barefoot and stubborn, locked in a battle with the soil. a carrot clung to the earth like it had something to prove, your hair slipping from its tie as you yanked at it, dirt smudged across your face from an earlier showdown with a deer that had dared to challenge your lettuce. the dress you wore—white, soft, and loose—shifted around you like a second skin, its ruffled straps falling to kiss your shoulders. it was stained at the hem, caught on brambles, but it moved with you, romantic in its simplicity, something that could’ve been borrowed from another life.
ambessa watched from the car. you didn’t notice her at first, too busy flailing after some audacious bit of wildlife, but she noticed you. her eyes followed the sway of your dress, the way the sun painted gold onto your skin, how your body moved with a kind of rawness that had always undone her. she waited because ambessa always waited. but there was a tension to it, like watching something she didn’t want to admit she needed.
hours later, she was here, sprawled in your lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. her hand rested against the fabric of your dress, her breathing slow but uneven. you stroked her hair without thinking, staring out at the horizon. the horses were grazing, lazy against the emerald sprawl. the ranch, her gift, felt heavier than it had in a while.
“at one point in time,” you said finally, the words tasting of truth, “every daughter views her mother as her monster.”
her hand stilled. you could feel her thoughts shifting, coiling like a tide just out of reach. she didn’t say anything, but the silence was loud, charged. you didn’t press her.
“you were always so hard on yourself,” you continued, your voice quiet but steady. “you can be… strong, stubborn, cruel. i’ve felt it. i know it. so much of your decision-making is absolute like the world is this black-and-white chessboard you’re determined to win on. there’s no room for anyone else in that kind of thinking. it can be stifling. but—” you hesitated, fingers idly brushing the hem of your dress as you tried to hold her gaze.
“love is always the basis when it comes to the people you care about: mel, kino—”
“you,” she interjected softly, her voice barely audible but so certain it almost startled you.
you hummed in agreement, the corners of your mouth tugging into an easy smile.
“me,” you admitted, your chest tightening at the confession. you sighed, the sound carrying years of ache. “your problem is that you don’t believe we can love you back. not really. you think we can’t be safe with you. so you send us away, like that’s protecting us. you decide things for us—these big, sweeping decisions—and suddenly we’re standing outside looking in, strangers in our own lives with you.”
you paused, thinking of her daughter. “mel’s a teenager. she’s going to buck against you because that’s what teenagers do. you have to let her. you can’t control everything, ambessa. we don’t learn any other way.”
ambessa watched you, her face unreadable but her eyes dark and intent. her voice was indescribably tender when she spoke.
“you’re such a wonderful stepmother.”
the word made you scoff. you pushed her—gently but firmly—off your lap and rose to your feet. she let you, though her eyes lingered on you. she could never let go entirely.
“don’t let her hear you say that,” you muttered, shaking your head.
mel had not taken your marriage to her mother well. and really, who could blame her? you were more than half ambessa’s age. you’d once been mel’s peer at university, brushing shoulders in the same circles without a clue that your lives would one day intertwine like this. to make matters worse, mel hadn’t even learned of the relationship from her mother or you. no, she’d found out by walking in on the two of you in a position that still made your cheeks burn to think about.
what followed was relentless: the icy distance, the sharp words, the careful avoidance. love, for you, had always been hard, but this was a different kind of difficulty. you’d tried to explain yourself to mel, fumbling for words that didn’t sound hollow. you told her you loved her mother simply because you did. it wasn’t about their wealth or their influence. you’d come from nothing—a small town with a crumbling church, miles of barren land, and a quiet resignation to a life of struggle. you were used to living hard and mean, to fending for yourself.
but ambessa… she had swept into your life with the force of a storm. she needled at you, chipped away at your shell until you were belly-up and tender, soft between her teeth. you were an easy kill in her hunt, and she was ruthless, selfish, and she could be so fucking mean. but none of that mattered.
you loved her with the kind of blind devotion that defied reason, and you couldn’t imagine doing anything else. being her wife was your greatest pride, and tending to her was your guiltiest pleasure.
mel couldn’t understand that, and the rift between you grew wider with each passing day. then came the public’s growing animosity toward the medarda family, the rising tensions, and ambessa made one of her absolute decisions. the separation blindsided you. you’d cried so hard you blacked out in the hall, and when you woke, you left without looking back. you thought mel wouldn’t care.
which is why you were shocked when ambessa brought you mel’s request for your perspective.
you turned toward the stove, busying yourself with the rhythm of dinner prep. it was easier to focus on the small, manageable things—chopping vegetables, lighting the flame—than to meet her gaze.
“she doesn’t hate you, [name],” ambessa said suddenly, her voice calm but insistent.
you froze, the knife hovering mid-air before you carefully set it down and turned on the stove.
“you staying for dinner?” you asked carefully.
you heard her shift behind you, felt the warmth of her body as she closed the space between you. her arms circled your waist, firm but gentle, and you shivered, instinctively leaning into her. god knows you were never the strongest soldier. she pressed a kiss to your temple, her lips lingering just long enough to make you melt.
“i admit,” she murmured, her voice low and quiet, “i had other motives for coming here.”
“bessa,” you began.
ambessa held you tighter, her lips brushing against your temple, the warmth of her breath sending shivers down your spine. her silence stretched just long enough for you to grow uneasy, but then she spoke, her voice low and thick with emotion.
“they’ve been asking for you,” she said, her hands smoothing over your waist.
you stiffened slightly, unsure if you’d heard her correctly.
“who?”
“mel. kino.” she pressed another kiss to your temple, then let her forehead rest against the side of your head. “they’ve been pleading with me to bring you back. they won’t admit it outright—god forbid they ever say they were wrong—”
you shot her a look.
“—but they’ve missed you. and they hate the way i’ve been without you. they say i’m different when you’re there.”
your breath hitched, your chest tightening with a mix of disbelief and something dangerously close to hope.
“they don’t even like me,” you murmured, your voice cracking.
“that’s not true.” ambessa’s tone softened, her grip on you tightening like she was afraid you might slip away. “they’re too proud to say it, but they’ve developed a soft spot for you despite everything. they miss you as much as i do.”
you turned your head slightly, just enough to catch the edge of her expression—open, raw, and devastatingly honest. by instinct, you lifted a hand and cradled her face. you hated it when she was sad.
“oh, bessa.”
“i’ve realized,” she continued, her voice dropping to a near whisper, “that i am nothing without you. i thought i was protecting you by letting you go, but i was wrong. i’m tired, my love. tired of waking up alone. tired of pretending i don’t need you. i do. god, i do.”
you felt a weight lift from the depths of your body. you’d waited so long to hear this—to feel wanted, needed, like you weren’t just a fleeting chapter in her life. tears welled up, and before you could stop them, they spilled over, hot and fat.
ambessa turned you in her arms, her hands coming up to cup your face as you began to cry in earnest.
“oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, her thumbs brushing away your tears. “don’t cry. please don’t cry.”
“i don’t want to do this anymore,” you choked out between sobs, clutching at her arms like she was the only thing keeping you upright. you pressed down on the thick cords of muscle, pleading with the strength of your grip. “i don’t want the house or any of this shit. i’m so tired of taking care of myself, ambessa. i just want to come home.”
her expression crumpled, and for a moment, you saw a vulnerability in her that she rarely let show.
“i’m sorry,” she said, her voice tight. “i’m so sorry, my love. i never should have let you go. i’ll make it right—i swear to you. i’ll spoil you, take care of you, and keep you forever. you’re mine, [name], and i’ll never let you forget it again.”
you sobbed harder, your face burying into her chest as her arms enveloped you completely.
“i know, baby. you did so well. i’m so proud of you,” she murmured.
she continued to whisper soft reassurances, mantras of “sweetheart,” “my sweet girl,” and “my sweet baby,” until the tears slowed and your breathing evened out. you shuddered against her, refusing to remove yourself from where you were pressed tightly against her chest. she shifted, and you jolted—fingers splaying desperately across her body.
“shh. i’m just making us more comfortable,” she told you.
the two of you moved, a single weeping entity across the floor of the kitchen into the living room. ambessa settled you on the couch, continuing to trace a hand across the landscape of your back.
“come back with me,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your hair. “let me take care of you. let me love you the way you deserve, hmm?”
you nodded against her, your hands clutching at the fabric of her shirt like a lifeline.
“that's all i want. i never stopped loving you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
“i know,” she said, tilting your face up to hers.
the kiss she gave you was desperate and all-consuming, a culmination of every time you had woken and found yourself alone. her hands roamed over your hips and your waist, pulling you closer as if the space between you was unbearable. you gasped into her mouth, and she deepened the kiss.
“i’ve missed you,” she murmured against your lips, her voice low, rough with hunger. “did you miss me?”
you shivered, your body instinctively pressing into hers.
“yes. yes, i did. i swear, bessa,” you insisted, your voice trembling.
“shh, my love,” she said, her lips trailing down your jaw to your neck to soothe you. “i believe you. a sweet girl like you wouldn’t lie to me.”
with a groan, she lifted you, guiding you toward the bedroom, her hands never straying from your body, her kisses growing more frantic. when your back hit the bed, she hovered over you, her gaze dark, possessive. a hand came down to cup your cunt, firm and promising.
“yes or no?” she asked.
she only asked out of respect. ambessa had long ago perfected the art of taking what she wanted. you found you didn’t mind. it was easier this way, surrendering to her because she knew your body—your needs—better than you ever could. in her hands, the pressure of choice vanished. you trusted her to always know what was best.
suddenly, you were reminded of when she proposed. you felt the same now as you had then—wide-eyed, carnivorous. gently, you pulled her closer, brushing your lips against hers. the room smelled of apple blossoms and her intoxicating scent.
“yes,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.
satisfied, she lowered her mouth back to your neck. at that moment, you could have mistaken her for a vampire—hunting for your pulse, for that line of forever-promised blood.
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
“ambessa.”
“hmm?” she answered, her hand tightening where it reigned on the nape of your neck.
she had you face down with your ass up, her other hand holding you at the small of your back as she thrust into you. you let out a high moan as she began to move faster, her cock moving deeper as you bore down on her.
“you feel so fucking good, sweetheart. so tight and sweet for me. it’s almost as if you haven’t been touched in a long while.”
“bessa—” you choked out, and she let out a laugh.
“oh, baby. i know that’s not true.” bending forward to brace herself on the bed, she began to pump into you. “you were always so hungry for it, so eager. i know you’ve probably stuffed yourself every single night since i’ve been gone.”
you whimpered, drool beginning to spill from your lips.
“but it didn’t feel like this, did it?”
“no,” you answered, squealing as ambessa brought a hand down on your ass. “no, baby. i can’t take care of myself like you do.”
“no,” she agreed. “you can’t. you just get so stupid when you’re fucked. you have no chance of doing this alone. not well, at least.”
“bessa, please,” you mewled.
with a bored sigh, she tightened her grip around your band of hair and yanked your head back, pounding into you with predatorial precision. you moaned as she began to focus on your g-spot, pulling your head back roughly to further increase her control.
“shit, bessa. fuuuuuck.”
“yeah?”
all thoughts were being fucked out of your head. you managed to get a hand on your clit, rubbing furiously to add stimulation.
“uh, uh, uh. oh, fuck. holy shit. ambessa, fuck. please, baby. please don’t stop.”
for a moment, she paused, and you remembered how cruel she could be. tenderly, she turned you over on your back and slid back in, placing your hands on the back of your thighs so that you were holding yourself open. with a grunt, she sunk deep until her hips were once again clapping against your ass.
a strong hand came down, fingers hooking into your mouth and tugging till she could see your teeth. you felt like an animal.
“stop fucking talking,” she told you, and you nodded, spit slicking all over your mouth and her fingers. “good girl.”
the praise settled on you, and you moaned weakly. her next thrust hit you like a line of coke. she was pressing into you, working for something. you weren’t sure what, but you could feel the way she was aiming to break you in.
“come on,” she murmured, retracting her fingers to grope roughly at your tits. “say it.”
your brow furrowed, and she came to a slow, gradual stop. sliding out, ambessa crawled onto the bed and placed a hand on your chest. you watched her, eyes large and glittering with tears. her breasts hung heavy over you, ripe and full with age. you wanted to suck and bite her nipples till she was shaking on the bridge of your nose, pussy-deep into your throat.
carefully, she slipped the holster from her hips and removed the girthy dildo from where it sat, slick with your heat and arousal.
“maybe this will jog your memory,” she said, and you didn’t have a moment to think before her cock was in your mouth.
you choked loudly, but she paid you no mind. with a few circular motions of her wrist, she made you deepthroat every inch, her eyes darkening as you audibly gagged and sucked on it. you ran your tongue over the artificial veins, getting it as wet as possible.
you were tasting yourself, strawberry sweet with a hint of bitterness and slight musk. you could feel your cunt pulsing, fluttering as ambessa’s eyes grew darker. she prohibited you from letting your legs down, and your thighs were burning, sweat garnishing your skin with a light sheen.
you felt so exposed, so debased like this: holding yourself wide and open while gagging like a well-trained whore on the toy.
“remember now?” she asked, and you breathed hard through your nose.
you were trying, bless you, to remember, and she dropped a kiss on your cunt for the effort.
“look at this pussy, sweetheart. fuck, baby.” ambessa lifted from where she’d been dragging her free hand through your folds. her fingers were soaked. “you’re rinsing me.”
something about her tone jogged your memory, and suddenly, you knew what she wanted to hear. in your excitement, you whined, and she met your gaze. she considered you and then removed her cock from your mouth.
“mommy,” you breathed, and she smiled, her face warm and rivaling the sun.
“that’s it,” she said, pride drenching the words. “good job, sweet girl. you deserve a reward.”
you beamed and wiggled your pussy in silent demand. ambessa laughed at your eagerness, bending to kiss you. her lips trailed lower till she was mouthing over the sopping mound of your count. around and around, her tongue wet, her teeth softly grazing your clit. you snapped upward, letting go of your legs and clutching at her braids instead.
“goddamnit, ambessa! fuck!”
she continued to eat you out, shaking her head and sucking loudly. still, she found time to pinch the inside of your thigh in reprimand.
“that’s not my name, sweet girl. i won’t tell you again.”
“fuck. fuck, i’m sorry. i’m sorry, mommy. just—please.” your voice cleaved in the middle. “please, i need to cum. i want to cum so bad for you, mommy. let me. please just let me—”
with a wet pop, ambessa broke away from your swollen pussy and looked at you. you breathed heavily, eyes caught on the way she gazed at you from between your legs.
“nothing is stopping you, my love. do what pleases you.”
she lowered down again and spat right into your cunt. you let your head fall back.
“i told you,” she said. “i plan to spoil you. this will only be your first.”
and with that, she suctioned her mouth around your rosy pussy and sucked, pointing her tongue and slipping inside of you. you came with a high wail, legs clamping around her head as you bowed over her. you felt light-headed, slit open, and destroyed.
and true to her nature, ambessa never stopped.
© hcneymooners.
#ambessa medarda#arcane ambessa#ambessa x reader#ambessa x you#wlw#sapphic#lesbian#wlw smut#arcane smut#mine ; 🐎.
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vi x reader, parallel universe!vi x reader | character death (reader)
ekko paints a picture of you.
"I wanted to show you something," Ekko tells Vi before he's leading her and Powder to where he's made his masterpiece. He doesn't know how Vi will react; if she'll be overcome with joy or overwhelmed with immense sadness.
Maybe she'll get angry and storm off, too hurt by the painting to truly express how she feels. But Ekko feels like doing this is worth that risk because hopefully, in a way, it will provide Vi with some closure.
When they reach the mural, Ekko stops and watches Vi and Powder take the remaining steps forward. He takes in how Powder's face lights up before she's pursing her lips with a slight tremble. He can tell that she's trying not to cry, and Ekko wants to pull her into his embrace and tell her that it's okay to let it out.
Vi's harder to read.
She's staring up at the mural, expressionless, and Ekko worries that he may have crossed a line. Vi's silence is deafening; it shakes him to his core, and he almost steps forward to apologise when Vi asks:
"Is this...them?"
Ekko swallows and nods as he replies, "Yes." He walks up until he's by Vi's side. "I took some artistic liberation and...imagined what they would have looked like if they hadn't..." Ekko stops himself, finding the words still too hard to say.
Vi stares and stares until she's closing her eyes, letting out a trembling breath.
"They're even more beautiful than I imagined," she whispers, barely loud enough for him to hear. Powder hears it too because she's smiling, sniffling as she wipes at her eyes.
"Yeah, a real looker," she says. "They were cute when they were younger, so it's no surprise that Ekko made them a bombshell." She looks at Ekko, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Should I be worried? Did you hold a candle for our dear friend here?"
Ekko chuckles and shakes his head. He's never held feelings of that sort for you. Yes, he did think you were pretty when he was growing up, but it never escalated beyond that. Besides, everyone knew that it was Vi you were going to end up with. Because it was you and Vi and Vi and you, and it was so obvious, the love you held for each other.
Still is obvious back in his own universe, but...he wishes he could have seen you thrive here. Happy and alive with no reason to run or hide. To be at peace with the people you love and who love you.
"They were everything to me," Vi says after a moment of silence. "They were my world in a way that was different from you guys." She gives a rueful chuckle. "Barely grown up, and we were already talking about getting married. We knew we wanted to be each other's for the rest of our lives." She then sighs. "Then that damn explosion happened, and they protected me. Made sure I survived, and I still...still deal with the guilt."
The silence settles among them again, but it only lasts for a second as Vi breaks it.
"But I know they wanted me to be here for Powder," she continues softly. "And know they'd be cursing me to the ground if they knew my thoughts." Her lips curve into a gentle smile. "But at least, I can look at her now and see her a bit more vividly in my dreams." She looks at Ekko, smile still in place. "Thanks, Little Man."
Ekko nods, unable to speak due to the tightness in his throat. If only...if only he could tell Vi that there's a universe where you did survive. A universe that isn't as great as this, but you're together and manage to find happiness despite all the shit thrown at you.
If only he could tell Vi that's what you really look like. That's how you've grown and how you've transformed.
If only.
But at least he can take solace in the fact that he's graced Vi with some form of closure.
In the form of a picture of you.
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I have seen this post, along with reblogs containing massive amounts of misinformation, cross my dash many times. I have ignored them, thinking "what's the use of getting into this on Tumblr"? But I have finally hit the tipping point. seeing mutual after mutual reblog this along with "only ecofascists believe in the concept of human overpopulation; if you even consider arguments about overpopulation, you are sliding down the slippery slope to eco-fascism" commentary, apparently without questioning the content or the source, is disturbing to me.
The tweet above and the statements about eco-fascism are not factual statements. They are propaganda. Now, I don't think propaganda is in itself a bad thing. But it not being bad depends on people being able to identify it and critique it. You need to be able to evaluate the content and the source in order to weed out the objective information from the subjective. If you can do that and you still agree with it, more power to you.
In this super long post, I am first going to address the tweet. After that, I will talk a little bit about eco-fascism and overpopulation discourse.
Let's address the source first. Here are some other opinions you can find on the Hampton Institute site (quotes are from x):
There was no evidence of Russian interference in any U.S. election and any investigations into it are pro capitalist political theater
Go ahead and let Russia have Ukraine
Cornel West is not socialist enough
"We need to understand that electoral politics are both a time suck and a dead end if the goal is to win elections, assume office, and enact legislation. Therefore, campaigns should only be used to educate, agitate, and form counter-hegemonic and liberatory institutions and organizations."
"liberal identity politics" are a sideshow; capitalism/class is the ultimate root of all oppression
"Democrats are not anti-fascist; they are just as much a part of the transition to overt fascism as Republicans are."
Bernie Sanders sold out the working class by endorsing Biden (among other sins)
Every single report of sexual violence conducted by Hamas during the attack on Israel on October 2023 is false. (Not just that there were misreportings or it's difficult to pin down numbers, but that not a single incident happened.)
It's a waste of time and capitalist shilling to critique communism/historical communist systems
If there's anything in the list above you wouldn't take at face value, then why take the tweet at the top at face value?
As for the content, let's look at the numbers:
7.7 billion --it could be more, it could be less. It's close enough. I'm not going to argue with this.
95% of people live on 10% of the land-- where does the statistic come from? What is it even saying? Is it saying that, of all the land occupied by humans, 5% own or occupy 90% of that land? Is it talking about all arable land on earth? Is it talking about all land on Earth? Because if you look at statistics for arable land use, there is not a single inhabited continent where arable land use is less than 25%. That is, of all the arable land that exists, at least 25% of it is being used for agriculture (cropland or grazing land). Worldwide average is around 35%. That is way more than 10%. If you single out cropland alone and don't count grazing land, because you want to look at how a vegetarian diet might change land use, you will find the cropland takes up less than 10% of arable land in parts of the world. But in europe, the us, argentina, mexico, china, India, Pakistan, Kenya, and a bunch of other countries, more than 10% of arable land is used for crops, with some countries having as much as 50 to 70% of their arable land used for crop land. x
We produce enough food to satisfy 10 billion people -- I'm not going to argue with this. There are plenty of studies that support the argument that this will be possible soon if not already x (but no one should be surprised that it includes the assumption of shifting to a more plant-based diet, which does not line up with actual food consumption trends x)
We can double how many people we feed in a more sustainable way -- another point that sounds nice, but what does it even mean?
Okay, Now we move on from the Hampton Institute to the ecofascists. Wow, what a fun way to spend my Saturday afternoon!
True claim: Eco-fascism argues that overpopulation is the ultimate root of climate change and environmental destruction. x x x x
True claim: Eco-fascism is racist, white supremacist, and genocidal. (See links above.)
Unprovable claim: Overpopulation is inherently and only an eco-fascist myth/arguing point. That is actually something that you will need to decide for yourself after you research the issue. But here are a few starting points: Isaac Asimov and Jacques Cousteau had concerns about human population growth and its effects on the environment. Are they necessarily ecofascists? Are white people living in Western countries who support immigration and reproductive freedom worldwide being eco-fascists when they make a personal choice to have fewer children because they are concerned about the effect of population growth and land use on their local ecosystems? Is it inherently fascistic to draw a mathematical correlation between number of people and amount of land used for agriculture and habitation? Is it fascistic to think about what the worst consequences of human population growth could be, in order to figure out ways to minimize or eliminate negative consequences while allowing human population growth to continue? Is it possible to use the concept of overpopulation in a non-misanthropic way, i.e. as a tool for identifying numbers that would be unsustainable under current conditions, and figuring out how to change things so that those numbers would be perfectly sustainable?
No conclusion here. I'm not going to tell you what the interest to those questions should be.
To show my hand, I don't think they necessarily have a single answer. And that is what led me to spend way too much time on a Saturday writing about this post when my sinuses are stuffed and I can't even think clearly. Because every single reblog I've seen of it gives off the impression that this is a closed discussion, that there is a single right conclusion that everybody should come to, that all the statements made are objective and supported by fact, and that everybody but an eco-fascist would agree with the whole reblog chain.
It's Tumblr and i shouldn't care because no one will take the time to read this anyway. But hey. I have a cold and I'm not thinking straight. Have a great day.
join the praxis discord - sign up - github
#tumblr discourse#ecofascism#overpopulation#I'll probably regret this#oh well#reblog with addition#moral philosophy
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I hope she never leaves me, please, God, you must believe me
Caitvi x fem!reader
Summary: Even though the world was ending, Caitlyn and Vi's concern for you was above all else.
Word Count: 0,8K
Warning: mention of headaches, reader doesn't like physical contact that much (only caitvi can), mention of blood, mention of violence, poly.
ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.
Your head throbbing was the first thing you felt when you opened your eyes, followed by dizziness and blurred vision. Letting out a groan of pain, you looked at the thing that had woken you up: the door to your laboratory was open, the warm yellow light coming from outside made you see who had opened it.
The shadows of the two figures entering with hesitant steps were unmistakable. Caitlyn and Vi turned their heads in almost every direction, looking for you, apparently. You rolled your eyes.
Jayce. That nosy gossip. He was always the one behind every intrusive visit Caitlyn made to your lab.
Standing up silently, you stretched your back and walked towards them with a frown on your face.
"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice hoarse with sleep, watching them turn their heads towards you quickly. Vi raised her gauntlets defensively before her expression softened as she looked at you.
Caitlyn sighed in relief, walking towards you in precise steps and pressed you against her tightly, burying her pointed nose in your neck. You groaned uncomfortably and didn't return the hug. As always.
"Why did you disappear? Look at you, you look so tired." she pulled away but continued to hold you in her arms. "Why is it so dark in here?"
"I work better this way." you shrugged, then turned your gaze to Vi, who was just staring at the two of you. "Why are you wearing gauntlets? Did you come to arrest me? I haven't committed any crime."
"Negligence is a crime, in a way." Caitlyn's firm voice replied and she squeezed your arms lightly. "Are you asleep? It seems like you're not."
"I sleep all the time." you pulled away from her arms and walked back to your workbench. "Why are you acting like I died? I'm here all the time, you know that."
"Jayce told us he hadn't seen you in almost a week. We went to your apartment and you weren't there either." Vi deactivated her gauntlets, which fell to the floor with a loud thud, and walked over to you with an irritated expression on her face. "Do you know how worried you made us?"
"Did you pay attention to what you just said? It took you more than a week to realize I was gone." you joked and let out a mocking sound, which was not well received by the duo, who continued with serious faces. "I'm fine, don't be dramatic."
"You think it's funny? You're going to get killed." Caitlyn crossed her arms.
"Then it would take you another week to realize it." you scoffed.
"It's not funny! Don't you realize we're only concerned about your health?" she took a few steps closer. "Go home and take a shower and rest. Your commander's orders."
Before you could give another sarcastic retort, Vi's strong arms wrapped around you in a warm hug, she brought one of her hands to the back of your head and placed her face on your shoulder. You looked up at Caitlyn in a silent plea for help, but she just smiled tenderly.
You raised a hand and patted Vi's back uncomfortably, but she only squeezed you tighter.
"I'll only let you go if you come with us." Her voice was muffled against your shoulder.
"Okay, okay. I'll go." you grumbled, pushing her lightly. "Let go of me."
She let go of you and smiled big, earning an eye roll from you.
Caitlyn had demanded that you recover at the Kiramman mansion, of course. You hadn't gotten out of bed in a few days.
The civil war in Piltover had left a lot of damage to the city and its people. One of those damages was the heavy bleeding you had from your head after being thrown to the ground with force, hitting your head hard on the concrete.
There wasn't as much blood anymore, but the headaches were terrible. But nothing was as bad as seeing Caitlyn without an eye.
She sat elegantly in the fancy upholstered chair beside his bed and reached out to stroke your arm. Vi came in soon after, leaning against the bed frame with a glass of drink in her hand.
"How are you?" Caitlyn leaned over and brought her hand to her face, sniffing lightly.
"How do I look?" you asked, straightening up to sit better against the fluffy pillows.
"Terrible." she replied with a slight smile.
"Well, at least I didn't lose any eyes." you replied jokingly.
"Damn, I thought the explosion had knocked that rebellious temper out of you." Vi took a sip of her drink.
"You love me just the way I am." you replied.
She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp and placed the glass on the bedside table, leaned over Caitlyn's chair and kissed her gently. Then she walked past her and sat down next to you on the bed.
"You're right." She searched your eyes for approval and when she found it, she brought her lips to yours.
But you turned your face away and grimaced, "Vi, that's gross. It tastes like alcohol!"
Caitlyn let out a loud laugh and climbed onto the bed as well, lightly pushing Vi, who had a shocked expression on her face. "Mine don't taste like alcohol."
#writing#writers on tumblr#arcane fanfic#arcane#arcane fandom#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#caitvi#caitvi x reader#caitvi x you#caitlyn x reader#vi x reader#vi x caitlyn#vi arcane
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symptoms and causes | ch. 16
pairing — professor gojo x med student reader
summary — he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart — and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.
word count — 11.5 k
warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, substance and alcohol abuse, dark and themes, unhealthy relationships, codependency, trauma, medical content and mentions of death, illness, abuse, and blood. full trigger warnings available on the masterlist. reader discretion is advised.
previously — unable to watch satoru turn to his abusive family for help with naoya's massive lawsuit, you're heading to his party against satoru's wishes, hoping to find something, anything, that might help his situation. but what happens when satoru decides to crash the party? and what will you find in that locked room?
author's note — hello lovelies, welcome back !! this chapter picks up right where we left off, but through satoru's eyes this time. also important note: this chapter contains a brief mention of SA concerning a background event not related to any of our main characters. as always, please mind all trigger warnings. and now enjoy the chaos <3
series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad
<- prev chapter | next chapter ->
I saw her the moment I stepped into that goddamn party, and everything inside me went still.
Like that moment right before you drown, when the water first fills your lungs and the world goes quiet. Terrifying and so still.
She stood there under those cheap neon lights, looking scared and yet so beautiful—beautiful in that terrible way that makes you want to destroy something, that makes you want to tear it apart just to prove it's real.
Every fiber of my being screamed to go to her, to grab her and get her the hell out of here. Away from this place, away from him, away from all of it.
But I couldn't move. Couldn't let the mask slip, not here, not with all these eyes on me. So I plastered on that easy smile and played the part of the mildly annoyed professor who just happened to crash a student party.
As if my skin wasn't crawling with the need to use again, veins begging for something—anything—to take the edge off. As if the mere sight of her didn't make me feel like someone had reached into my chest and ripped my fucking heart out, her next breath away from something I might regret.
She looked up at me with those pretty eyes of hers, and I saw the guilt there, swimming just beneath the surface. And for one horrible moment I thought, Good. Let it pull her under like it's pulling me. Let it fill her lungs the way fear is filling mine.
I almost hated her then — for lying to me again and again, for doing stupid things behind my back again and again, for making me feel this goddamn helpless again and again and again and fucking again.
But what lay beneath was worse. Because I knew why she was here. Always trying to save me, even if it meant throwing herself into the deep end, drowning right alongside me. And that's the worst kind of torture, isn't it?
Watching the person you love cut themselves open on all your broken pieces, bleeding themselves dry, yet still reaching for more. And that thought made me want to scream.
"We'll talk about this later," I said, forcing that easy smile back onto my face though everything inside me was screaming to get her out of this goddamn house before she got herself into more trouble. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I need a drink."
I pushed past her, shoulder grazing hers, and I had to clench my fists to keep from turning back. Had to bite my tongue until I tasted blood to keep from saying something I couldn't take back. She had no idea what she did to me. Or maybe she did, and that was even worse.
Love and hate tangled together in my chest until I couldn't breathe. Because that's what she does to me — makes me feel everything at once, until I can't tell what's real anymore. Until I can't tell if I want to love her or ruin her. Until I can't remember which one would hurt more. Who I was before her. If I was anyone at all.
And it hit me then, as I left her standing there, all defiance and reckless stupidity and so unbearably precious it physically hurt—this must be what they mean when they say love and hate are two sides of the same coin. Because I loved her so much it felt like hatred. Hated her so deeply it could only be love.
Always on the razor's edge. One wrong step, and we'd both bleed out. Maybe we already were.
When was the last time I even went to a party like this anyway? Years ago, probably. Back when I could still pretend I had my shit together. Before I understood what it meant to love someone so consuming that self-destruction became a form of worship.
I needed a drink. Maybe ten. Maybe something stronger.
Bass thundered through the floorboards as I shouldered my way deeper into the house, some shitty pop track slamming in my skull. Or maybe that was just the rage still burning in my bloodstream.
Sweaty bodies pressed in on all sides, but I barely noticed, lost in the chaos raging in my head. Lost in the desperate need scratching at my throat to turn back, to find her, to make sure she hadn't slipped away like every other good thing in my life.
I ordered vodka. First sip burned, but not enough. Never enough to wash away the fear, to forget that she was here, in this house, with him. The same bastard who'd tried to—My grip tightened on the glass. Yeah. Definitely needed something stronger. Here's hoping these kids still remember how to party.
"Professor Gojo! No way!"
A group of my students appeared beside me at the bar, their faces flushed with alcohol. Aoi, of course—that kid was everywhere. And Miwa, looking starstruck as always. Just my fucking luck.
"Is this what you all do instead of studying for my exams?" I asked, letting that easy smile slide into place.
"Come on, Prof, we've been killing ourselves over your damned hard exams," Miwa chimed in, all bright eyes and alcohol courage. "We deserve a break."
I let myself slip into the familiar role. The cool professor. The guy everyone wants to hang with. It was easier than I expected, letting their drunken energy wash over me, cracking jokes, making them laugh. Almost enough to wash out the withdrawal that made it nearly impossible to think straight. Almost enough to forget why I was really here. Almost.
Aoi was rambling about something, but I wasn't listening. Instead, I turned slightly, catching her gaze across the room. She looked at me like she wanted to kill me. Funny, how we wanted the same thing sometimes.
My woman. My stubborn, reckless, absolutely infuriating woman. Even now, with me watching her from across the room, I could see that defiance bright in her eyes. Even now, even here, in defiance of everything I'd asked of her, she stood her ground.
It was admirable, really. And sometimes, that very defiance made me want to break her. Perhaps only to prove I could. To prove she wasn't in control. Perhaps because I was terrified that I wasn't. That I never was.
It's terrifying how thin that line is.
"See? Fucking legend!" Aoi raised his beer, at something I said, I think. I can't remember. Something clever, probably. Something that fits the role. "To the coolest professor on campus!"
I raised my glass, I think. I can't remember. And that's when I caught sight of them by the front entrance. Suguru walked up to her, still standing where I'd left her, and cradled her face in his hands, tilting it up to meet his gaze. My god, could he be any more obvious about it?
I knew that look in his eyes. Had seen it countless times before, during all those long hours in the lab when he thought I wasn't paying attention. The way he'd lean in close to check her work, his hand lingering on her shoulder a moment too long. The way his eyes would follow her every move.
My best friend, in love with the love of my life. What a sick fucking joke.
He was examining her face now, probably making sure she was alright, being the good, caring friend he always was. His thumb brushed across her cheek, and something violent stirred in my gut. Because she didn't pull away. Of course she didn't. She never did, not with him.
They looked good together, standing there in the dim light. The brilliant researcher and his gifted student. No addiction between them. No sharp edges that sliced you open if you got too close. And I hated that.
I watched as she placed her hand over his, the gesture unbearably tender. Watched as he smiled down at her, that gentle smile he reserved only for her.
And just for a moment — one single, agonizing moment — I let myself picture a world where I hadn't reached her first. Where she'd chosen him instead. The better man. The one who'd never drag her down into his own personal hell.
The thoughts spiraled darker, louder, until I could barely breathe through the noise. Glass creaked under my grip. I needed a fucking pill. Needed something, anything, to make this stop. To make everything just fucking stop.
"Professor?" Miwa’s voice. "You okay?"
More students crowded the bar, blocking my view of them. One of them—what was his name? Third-year, not a complete idiot—shoved another beer into my hand. I chugged it in one long pull, their chatter fading to background noise.
"Well." That voice. That fucking voice. "Look who decided to crash my party after all."
I turned, meeting Naoya's scarred face with a smile that was all teeth and no warmth. "Zenin. Quite the gathering you've got here."
"Indeed." He signaled the bartender. "I gotta say though, I'm surprised to see you here, Professor. Don't tell me you're playing chaperone tonight?"
His words stripped away any pretense. He knew. Of course he fucking knew why I was really here. Not that I'd been particularly subtle about it.
"Just felt like reliving my youth," I said, taking the drink he offered. Anything to keep my hands busy, to keep myself from finishing what I'd started with his face.
Zenin's smirk widened, the scars pulling his flesh into something even uglier. "Ah yes, the good old days. Back when teachers knew their place and didn't go around screwing their students."
The fake smile slid off my face, the glass creaking in my grip as I pictured how easily his windpipe would crumple under my hands. How satisfying it would be to watch that smirk disappear for good.
"Careful, Zenin. Your face is already fucked up enough as is. Would be a damn shame if something happened to what's left of it."
He laughed, the sound grating on my last nerve like nails on a chalkboard. "Always so protective. But tell me, Professor, does she know the real reason you're here? Does she know about the—"
"Enough," I bit out.
"Oh, did I hit a nerve?" His eyes flicked across the room, landing on her. The way he looked at her made my vision bleed red around the edges. "She really is something else, isn't she? Too bad I didn't get a chance to get her alone that night—"
My hand lashed out before I could think, fisting in his collar. The fabric bunched in my grip as I hauled him close enough to see my own fury reflected in his eyes. "You fucking—"
Then Suguru was there, his hand slamming down on the bar between us. Silent, steady—a wall between me and a one-way ticket to unemployment. He didn't say a word, just fixed me with that look. The one I'd explicitly asked for earlier. Stop me before I do something I'll regret.
Fuck, I was really starting to regret that request right about now.
Then I felt her—her touch impossibly gentle as she laid her hand on my bicep, the heat of her skin seeping through my shirt. She leaned in close, "Satoru, can we talk for a minute?"
Her soft plea sliced through the haze, and suddenly I became acutely aware of the deafening silence that had fallen over the room, of the countless eyes boring into us.
I uncurled my fingers from Naoya's collar one by one, even though everything in me screamed to finish what I'd started. To paint the walls with whatever was left of his face. But I couldn't. We both knew. So I stepped back and followed her.
─── ·✧· ───
She led me through the crowd, her fingers still wrapped so gently around my arm. We pushed our way past the prying eyes, down a hallway, until she found what looked like an empty office. Probably belonged to Naoya's father, judging by the dark wood and that rich people smell.
For a moment, we just stood there, neither of us willing to shatter the fragile silence. Moonlight sliced through the blinds, turning everything silver and strange, like we were underwater. Maybe we were. I wasn't sure anymore. Her hand slipped from my arm, and suddenly I felt cold.
I collapsed into the chair behind the desk, the leather groaning under my weight. She stood silhouetted at the window, arms wrapped tight around herself, and I had to look away. Had to focus on something else, because I knew one glance at those eyes and I'd break.
My fingers found the pill on their own. Out of habit, really. Without thinking, I snatched up the silver letter opener next to me and crushed the pill beneath it, watching the powder scatter across the polished wood like fresh snow. I bent down and let the burn fill my nose, sear through my brain, numbing everything in an instant.
When I looked up, she was staring. Always fucking staring, with eyes that flayed me to the bone. And she did it so effortlessly. Saw through everyone around her with that unnerving precision. Or maybe she saw through everything so clearly because she looked for the very things she wanted to hide from others.
"That's new," she said. Not an accusation. I was glad it wasn't.
"It's faster."
I averted my gaze and sank deeper into the chair, letting my head fall back against the headrest as warmth flooded my veins and the ceiling blurred and shifted above me. And then everything went soft around the edges, like looking through frosted glass.
A long exhale escaped my lips. Finally—fucking finally—the constant noise in my head, all that shit I can't shut up—the love, the hate, the fucking terror of it all—it faded to a whisper. The world got a little quieter, a little less sharp. A little more bearable.
For one perfect moment, I could actually breathe. Could almost convince myself I was in control. That this wasn't killing me. That I could walk away if I had to. That I wasn't fucking terrified of losing her. Of becoming him. Of everything.
I groaned, fingers raking through my hair, pulling, needing the pain. My hands were shaking again. Or maybe they never stopped. I couldn't tell anymore.
"You're angry," she said.
"No shit. What gave it away?" I scrubbed my hands over my face. "You showing up here after I specifically fucking told you not to? Or me nearly rearranging Zenin's face again?"
"Satoru—"
"Don't." I squeezed my eyes shut, fingers yanking at my hair again, trembling worse now. From the drugs, the rage, the fear, who the fuck knew. It all bled together these days. "You have no idea what he'd do. If something happened—" I stopped. Couldn’t continue.
"I'm not alone," she said, like that made a difference. "Maki, Yuta, Toge—they're all with me. We're being careful."
"Careful?" I sat upright, forcing myself to meet her gaze. "There's nothing fucking careful about this! It's reckless! You shouldn't even be—"
"I'm doing this for you—"
"Don't." I cut her off. "Don't make this about me."
"But it is!" She stepped closer, eyes blazing. "What, you expect me to just stand by and watch? While you fall apart?"
"This isn't your problem to fix—"
"Like hell it isn't!" Another step. Her eyes seared into mine. "I can't fucking take it anymore. You're in this mess because of me. Because you protected me that night. So don't you dare tell me this isn't my problem to fix."
I stared at her, something in my chest fracturing. "You think that's why I'm doing this? Because I feel obligated?"
"I think you're trying to protect me, like you always do."
"Then don't make me protect you all the goddamn time!" I shoved up from the chair and braced my hands on the desk. "I beat him within an inch of his life that night. I would've killed him if—" My throat closed around the words. "And I'd do it again. In a fucking heartbeat. That's what scares the shit out of me. What I become when it comes to you."
She went still.
"And if he hurt you again," the words scraped out of me, "I—I don't know what I'd do. So please. Just please don't make me find out."
I said the words I'd been turning over in my head for what felt like eternity. Don't make me find out, don't put yourself in danger, don't break my fucking heart. Which really meant break me all you want, just don't leave. I wouldn't survive it.
Her gaze dropped briefly to my hands, and she said, "You done?"
Her question threw me. Done? God, this infuriating woman. But then I followed her line of sight and saw my hands clenched into white-knuckled fists around the desk’s edge. I slowly released them, my knuckles cracking in the sudden stillness.
I slumped back into the chair, exhausted, defeated, throwing an arm over my eyes. "God, I fucking hate you." The way she stood there, unflinching, unafraid—it made me insane. "I hate that you make me feel like this—so fucking terrified all the time."
"You don't hate me," she said.
"Sometimes I'm not so sure anymore," I answered.
How does it never get easier, I wondered. Loving her. Needing her. It just cuts deeper, spreads further, until I'm drowning in the ache. Until I can't breathe without feeling it in my lungs. And yeah, I hate her for that sometimes.
I couldn't look at her. I knew she'd be there, unyielding, waiting, enduring everything I threw at her, as she always did. Never breaking. Maybe that's what I hated most.
"You're so fucking stupid," I breathed, but it came out wrong. Too soft. Too much like 'I love you'. Too much like 'Please don't leave.'
"I think that's mutual." She crossed the room then and leaned against the desk, arms folded over her chest. "I'm sorry I lied to you."
I lowered my arm and looked at her. "No, you're not."
"I am sorry for worrying you," she tried again, and I almost believed her, wishing desperately that she'd never have to worry about anything the way I worry about her. "Go ahead, say it. Tell me how stupid I was to come here. I know you're dying to."
"Why would you think that?"
She kept her eyes fixed on the floor. "Because it's true. I make the wrong choice every fucking time."
I watched her, this brilliant, stubborn woman that I love so much, beating herself up over choices that weren't really choices at all—just impossible situations with no right answers. Like there was ever a right answer. And sometimes she reminded me so much of myself. As if I hadn't spent years doing the same thing, and probably still do.
But seeing her do it—it was like staring into a mirror and seeing not just my reflection, but the reflection of everything I hated about myself.
"I think that's mutual," I echoed her words back to her.
With a heavy sigh, I pushed up from the chair, gripping the edge of the desk for a second. Then I reached for her, hands landing on her hips, tugging her close, needing her close. My lips ghosted over hers. Hesitant. Unsure. When she didn't pull away, I kissed her. My hand came up to cradle her face, thumb skimming her cheekbone as I deepened the kiss.
"Alright, what's the plan?" I murmured against her mouth.
She told me about the locked room upstairs and her plan to get it. So calm. She told it so calm. Like it was that simple. Like this wasn't the most insane thing I'd ever heard. But I knew she'd go through with it no matter what I said.
"You seriously think I'm gonna let you anywhere near him with alcohol involved?"
"No," she said. "I think you're going to help me."
"Times like this, I'm really feeling that age difference between us," I said, but we both heard the resignation in my voice. The moment I'd already lost this fight.
"So you'll help?" she asked, ignoring my comment.
Before she could celebrate her victory, I yanked her closer, fingers twisting in her hair. With a sharp tug, I forced her head back until she had no choice but to meet my gaze, her throat bared. Our eyes locked, and I saw the instant her breath hitched.
"On one condition."
"What's that?"
"When we get home, you're gonna make it up to me for all the stress you've caused. Got it?"
"Is that really how you want to play this?"
"Oh, love, I think we're way past propriety at this point."
A shiver ran through her — one that made me almost smile. I could feel her pulse racing beneath my fingertips, could feel the way she melted into me despite herself. It almost made this whole mess worth it.
"Now then." I pulled back just far enough to look her in the eye. "let's have some fun, shall we?"
─── ·✧· ───
So, here's the fun story about how I ended up playing beer pong with my arch-nemesis (besides Sukuna, that is) against my future lovely wife and some chemistry nerd who wouldn't shut up about covalent bonds. Not exactly the Saturday night I had in mind.
I mean, here I was, standing next to Naoya — yeah, the same guy whose face I'd rearranged a few months back — trying to aim at red plastic cups while you were absolutely wiping the floor with us. Turns out that whole '10 years of grief training in alcoholism over your dead father' wasn't just a cute phrase you threw around. Who would've thought?
But really, trying to out-drink an opioid addict? That's like challenging a fish to a swimming contest. Except the fish is in heavy withdrawal. So like, with no fin. Not my finest analogy. I blame the alcohol. What was my point again?
Anyway. Most annoying part? This chemistry department kid with these wide, bright eyes wouldn't stop talking to you about molecular structures. And you were actually entertaining him. At a party. About electron transfers. Of all the insufferable things.
"So if you consider the aromatic compounds—" he was saying, and I swear on my medical license, I didn't mean for the ball to hit him. And I definitely didn't mean for it to hit him that hard. Pure accident, really.
The ball bounced off his shoulder, effectively shutting him up. They both turned to look at me. "Molecular restructuring in organic compounds? Really?" I shrugged. "At a party?"
She shot me that look. You know the one. The classic 'I-can't-believe-I'm-sleeping-with-this-idiot' glare. It's become quite familiar these days.
"Trouble in paradise?" Naoya said beside me, and I briefly considered rearranging his face again. For symmetry's sake, of course.
But then she bent over to pick up the ball, and suddenly organic chemistry was the furthest thing from my mind. I definitely shouldn't have let her leave the house in that skirt. Though knowing her, she probably wore it just to torture me.
"Getting distracted, Professor?" she said, straightening up with that little smile that never fails to make me want to do wildly inappropriate things to her in very public places. She leaned across the table, deliberately tapping one of our cups with her finger, giving me her most innocent eyes. Because apparently, driving me insane was her new favorite pastime.
"Me?" I lifted the red cup she'd tapped to my lips, taking my sweet time with the drink, my eyes never leaving hers. "Never."
And somewhere in the haze of beer and the way she was looking at me, I tried to remember why the hell we were even here. Oh right—something about stealing keys. Real professional operation we've got going here. The medical board would be so proud. Their star surgeon, reduced to playing beer pong as a distraction tactic.
Naoya's keys were right there on the table, practically screaming to be grabbed. But between her legs in that skirt and the way she kept biting her lip every time she lined up a shot, I found myself giving fewer and fewer shits about saving my career and more about how quickly I could get her alone. Priorities. I clearly had them. Alcohol might have scrambled them a bit, I guess.
I caught a glimpse of Suguru standing off to the side of the beer pong table. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes darting back and forth between me and her like he was watching the world's most stressful tennis match. I really owed him one for putting up with this shit.
Near the chemistry kid, a girl approached who looked a bit like Higurama's intern—though I wasn't entirely sure. She looked different, wearing makeup and dressed up. But that couldn't be her. She'd avoid places with flashing lights because of her epilepsy. I must be seeing things.
Then Naoya, because clearly this shitshow wasn't enough of a disaster already, decided to "level up the process." He snapped his fingers at a passing bartender, and before I could process what the fuck was happening, there was a tray of perfectly lined up tequila shots on the table. Complete with cinnamon and orange slices, because apparently, we're keeping it classy while trying to get my future wife drunk.
"New rule," Naoya announced, his scarred face pulling into what I can only assume was meant to be a grin. "Next shot I sink, you drink both. Beer and tequila."
I glanced over at her, my gut churning. Not from the alcohol—it'd take a hell of a lot more than this to get me there—but from the way she met Naoya's challenge with a nod. That stubborn tilt of her chin that always meant trouble. My palms started to sweat.
Of course, Naoya's ball dropped perfectly into her cup. Because the universe really does have a sick sense of humor.
Watching her reach for both drinks, I found myself wondering what the medical board would be more pissed about — me playing drinking games with students, screwing one of my students, or the fact that I was seriously considering murder. Again.
Then, by some physics-defying miracle or sheer dumb luck, the chemistry kid actually landed a shot. He looked as shocked as the rest of us when the ball plopped into Naoya's cup. But it was her next shot that really got my attention — perfect arc, clean landing, like she'd been doing this her whole damn life.
"Drink up, Professor," she said, but there was something different in her voice.
She reached for the tequila, and then—fuck me—propped one leg up on a nearby beer crate, the motion making her skirt ride up just enough to flash a strip of skin above her tights. Wait. Those weren't tights. Those were fucking stockings.
My brain short-circuited as I realized she'd been walking around all night in stockings. Actual stockings, with what I knew had to be a garter belt hidden under that criminally short skirt. The same spot where she was now deliberately sprinkling cinnamon.
The sight of that exposed sliver of skin between stocking and skirt made my blood boil. When the hell had she even bought those? Had she worn them just for tonight, knowing they'd make me lose my goddamn mind? Was she trying to get herself killed?
Because right now, watching her purposely dust cinnamon on that band of exposed skin, I wasn't sure if I wanted to murder her or fuck her. Probably both. My mouth went dry, and it had fuck-all to do with the alcohol.
"Well?" She tilted her head, all innocence except for that knowing look in her eyes. "Coming to get your tequila?"
Like she had to ask twice. Yet I hesitated. With all these people watching? What was she playing at? It was reckless, careless, like she was deliberately trying to expose us. It was power play, a challenge. And I knew, that she knew, that I couldn't resist.
A slow smile spread across my face as I sank to one knee before her, the crowd fading into a blur of noise. All that mattered was her—the way her breath hitched as I gripped her calf, the way she tensed as she realized that I made a whole show for her (poor girl didn’t expect that now, did she?)—the feel of her skin on my tongue.
I took my sweet time with the cinnamon, letting my tongue glide over the exposed strip of flesh, feeling her shiver. My teeth grazed her skin, just enough to draw a soft gasp from her lips. If she wanted a show, I'd give her a show. And part of me wanted to shove that skirt higher, to chase that taste of salt and cinnamon further up her thigh until—
Focus. Fucking focus.
I straightened, stepping into her space. She held an orange slice in one hand, the shot glass in the other, and I couldn't help but notice how her pupils had blown wide, how her chest rose and fell just a little faster than normal.
I plucked the orange from her fingers with my teeth, my lips brushing her skin, then took the shot glass, using the movement to press closer, my mouth right by her ear, "What exactly is your plan here?"
"Create distraction," she breathed back.
God help me, but it was working. I was definitely distracted. Whole damn crowd was distracted. And watching her play this game—watching her play me—was probably the hottest and most infuriating thing I'd ever experienced. And I'm pretty sure everyone could see I was hard too.
"You're distracting the wrong audience," I whispered before knocking back the shot.
In the midst of trying to control my homicidal urges over those goddamn stockings, she caught my eye and subtly jerked her head. I turned, making it look like I was just checking something, and spotted them—Zenin, Okkotsu, and Inumaki hovering on the other side of the table behind Naoya, waiting for their chance.
Right. The keys. The whole reason we were here. I almost forgot.
The game continued, the tension building with each shot. We were down to the last round — winner takes all. That's when she decided to really test my patience.
"Let's make this more interesting," she announced, her voice carrying over the crowd. "Losers jump in the pool." A pause, then because apparently she was hell-bent on giving me a coronary. "No clothes."
"You wouldn’t dare," Naoya scoffed.
"Try me," she replied.
I shot her a warning look. She subtly chewed on her bottom lip, meeting my gaze with an unnerving calm, perhaps her way of saying everything's gonna be okay. It did little to ease the knot in my stomach.
One shot left. If she made this, Naoya and I would be stripping down for a midnight dip. If she missed—
I tried not to think about her in that pool. Tried not to think about those stockings getting soaked. Tried not to think about murdering every sorry bastard who might lay eyes on her. Either way, this woman was going to be the death of me. If I didn't kill her first.
Naoya landed his shot, fucking prick. I missed mine for obvious reasons. Chemistry kid missed too, leaving everything on her shoulders. The ball left her hand, arcing through the air in what felt like slow motion. It circled the rim, then rolled away.
The crowd went wild. Naoya's victory smirk made me want to punch his face in. I glanced over at her, wondering for a second if she'd missed on purpose. But there was no time for that.
"Well?" Naoya's voice. "I believe the losers owe us a show."
"The game wasn't exactly fair—" I started, but she cut me off.
"Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted, Naoya?" She turned to him, her words sharp. "To see me undress without having to drug me first?"
The crowd went dead silent. Naoya's scarred face contorted into something ugly. "Watch your mouth, little girl. You're not as untouchable as you think."
"And you're pathetic," she spat back, then turned away from him. "At least I get to choose when I undress, right?”
She started walking toward the pool, each step deliberate, commanding. I followed, caught between pride and sheer terror at what she was about to do. At the edge, she turned back to me.
"Don't," I pleaded, but she was already reaching for the hem of her skirt. It fell, revealing the dark lace of her stockings. Then her top followed, and I stepped closer, trying to shield her from the leering eyes.
"This is insane." But my protest died as she stood there in only black lace, and then I saw them—the bruises from the fire still painted across her waist and ribs. Dark purple and yellow marks that hadn't yet faded, cruel reminder of how close I'd come to losing her.
The sight sobered me instantly. Something twisted in my chest, sharp and painful. The bruises I'd carefully tended to, the ones that still made her wince when I changed her bandages—on full display for this crowd of drunk idiots, turned into a spectacle.
"Please," I begged, my voice barely audible. "Don't do this."
She met my gaze, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I’d reached her. But then that smile—the one that sealed my fate—touched her lips. "Sorry, Professor," she whispered, and then she was gone, falling backward into the pool, taking a piece of me with her.
The splash echoed in my ears like a gunshot, and I was already shrugging off my jacket, ready to either dive in after her or use it to cover her when she surfaced. A cold, hard fury settled in my gut. Naoya was going to pay for this.
The crowd roared as she surfaced, her hair plastered to her face, water tracing the curves of her body beneath the soaked lace. Our eyes met across the distance, me standing at the pool's edge, and I didn’t bother to hide my disappointment. Something flickered across her face—regret maybe, or shame—before she looked away.
Hell broke loose. Bodies crashed into the water, sending waves across the pool. Even Naoya stripped off his shirt and dove in, reveling in the attention. The whole party seemed to shift to the pool in a matter of seconds — clothes flying, drinks splashing, the pristine water turning into a churning mess.
Perfect distraction.
But I barely registered any of it, my world had narrowed to her. I watched as she climbed out, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the concrete, practically sprinting past me, her gaze fixed on the floor, while water dripped from her hair, her skin, the dark lace clinging to her form.
Behind her, the pool had turned into chaos — exactly what she'd planned, I realized.
I gathered her clothes from where they'd fallen and followed her inside. I caught a glimpse of Okkotsu's quick movements near the discarded clothes by the pool.
Well played.
─── ·✧· ───
Her dripping form drew curious eyes as we moved through the foyer. Each step felt like a penance—hers for the recklessness, mine for letting it happen. Heads turned, conversations died, the sudden silence punctuated only by the soft drip, drip, drip of water from her hair.
Kento’s face flashed past, but I barely registered him. No doubt he'd give me shit about it at the university later, like he didn't already know something was up with me and her.
I wrapped my jacket around her shivering shoulders, fighting the desperate urge to reach for the opioids hidden in my pocket. Withdrawal, guilt, and fury burned together in my veins, making me want to crawl out of my own skin.
I stepped in front of her, partly to block all those eyes on her, partly to hide how bad my hands were shaking. None of it was worth it. Not the keys, not avoiding my parents, none of it. How did we end up here? How did I allow things to get to this point?
Upstairs, she dressed quickly, water still dripping from her hair, leaving damp patches on her clothes.
"Are you cold?"
"I'm okay," she said, avoiding my gaze.
She was shaking. I could see the goosebumps on her arms. "You're shivering," I said and reached for her, but she pulled away.
“I’m fine, really.”
Despite her words, I pulled her close. She didn't resist this time, tilting her face up to mine. Her eyes were bright, and for a second, I thought she might cry. The world could have been watching, for all I cared. If those tears fell, it would be my undoing.
And then I thought of everything she'd done, everything she'd had to do—for me. My twenty-four-year-old student, forced to protect me from my own damn parents, to beg for my own money. Because I’d hit a guy who tried to hurt her. Why was it all so fucked up?
The high was long gone, leaving this gaping hole. My limbs felt heavy, detached, like they belonged to a stranger, unable to reach out and fix what I’d broken. And we were so far from where we started.
"You're disappointed," she finally said. She wasn't asking.
"We should leave." Because I couldn't bear to watch her sacrifice one more piece of herself for me.
"You can leave."
Before I could say anything back, Zenin came bursting into our corner, Okkotsu and Inumaki right behind her, her eyes all lit up. "That was fucking insane!" she yelled, waving something around—Naoya's keys. "But it worked! I can't believe it actually—" She stopped short, finally noticing the tension between us.
The win felt empty. Yeah, we got what we came for. But what did it cost? Looking at her, still shivering a little in my jacket, I wasn't so sure it was worth it. I was supposed to protect her. Instead, I just kept watching her throw herself in the fire for me.
Some professor I was. Some man I was.
Strange how winning can feel so much like losing, especially when you realize you're not the one paying the price.
─── ·✧· ───
I stayed outside Naoya's room, playing lookout. At least that's what I told them. Truth was, I couldn't stand being in there, couldn't bear being near her, watching her fight my battles while I was barely holding myself together.
The itch under my skin had spread, making my whole body crawl with invisible insects while she did the dirty work. Even after everything, she was still trying to save me.
And I was still letting her.
I slid down the wall, my head hitting the floor. How did we end up here? What the fuck were we doing? What the fuck was I doing?
I'm thirty-five years old, for fuck's sake. Why was I acting like a goddamn teenager? I should've stopped her, shouldn't have let her leave the house to begin with, should've been the adult. But instead, I let it happen, standing by and watching where it led. Again.
This whole situation was insane. We were in too deep, and I knew it. But I couldn't seem to find my way out, couldn't seem to stop this trainwreck we were on. It was like I was watching it all happen from outside my own body, powerless to change course.
What kind of man was I? What kind of professor? I was supposed to be her mentor, her… something more. Instead, I was dragging her down with me.
I thought back to that night, the one that started it all. The night I found her in the lab, working late, hunched over her microscope. She looked up at me with those eyes, those damn eyes that seemed to see right through me. And I was lost. I knew it was wrong. I knew I should have walked away. But I didn't. I couldn't. Drawn in. Consumed.
And now, here we were. Trapped in this fucked-up situation of our own making. I wanted to blame her, to say it was all her fault for being so reckless, so damn stubborn. But I knew that wasn't true. I let this happen. I didn’t stop it. But why?
I could replay the events in my mind, frame by frame, but the crucial moment, the point where I should have intervened, remained a blur. It was as if some part of me had wanted to see where this ended.
Music still drifted up from downstairs, the bass thumping through the walls. It felt wrong, out of place. Like we were in a different world, a fucked-up one, while everyone else was living their normal, happy lives.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it all out, trying to pretend, just for a moment, that this wasn't happening. That we weren't here. That everything was okay. But it was happening. And I was in it, and I knew I couldn't hold my breath much longer.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Kept seeing things in the corners of my vision. Shadows that shouldn't move but did, faces that weren't faces at all. The wallpaper breathed. In and out. In and out. Like a lung.
Stop it. Just stop all of it. Make it stop. But it won't stop, can't stop, because she's in there right now, digging through his things, trying to save me save me save me why won't she just stop trying to save me?
Everything felt wrong, sick, twisted. Too bright and too dark all at once. My skin didn't fit right anymore. Nothing fit right anymore. God, I needed a goddamn fix.
A cough. I pressed my hand against my mouth. When I pulled it away, my palm was red.
Huh. That's new.
I stared at the blood, watching it pool in the lines of my hand. It looked wrong somehow, too dark, too thick. The longer I stared, the more it seemed to move strangely, crawling along the creases of my palm.
Was blood supposed to move like that? Like it was alive? Like it was trying to tell me something? I couldn't remember anymore. I couldn't remember a lot of things lately. The blood kept moving, kept spreading.
Maybe this was it—maybe I was finally losing whatever scraps of sanity I had left, sitting here on a dirty floor watching my own blood drip down my palm.
A part of me wondered if he'd been right all along, that I was becoming him, the very thing I’d always feared. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to be better, different. Not this—huddled on a filthy floor at a college party, watching my blood move as if in psychosis, while she risked everything for me. Again.
The door handle turned. Shit. I wiped my palm against the dark carpet, smearing the blood into the fibers where it vanished like it was never there. I scrambled to my feet just as they emerged. She moved quickly, shoving something beneath the waistband of her skirt. Before I could speak, she grabbed my arm.
"Let's leave." There was something like panic in her voice. "I'll tell you outside."
I gripped her hand, my own pulse quickening, and we went downstairs and pushed through the mass of drunk students. But then the music cut abruptly, plunging us into a moment of strange silence before panicked voices filled the void.
"What the hell—?" Okkotsu’s shout cut through the din from behind us.
Then I saw the flashing lights—red and blue strobing through the windows. Fuck.
"Cops!" Someone shouted, and the whole house erupted into chaos as people scrambled in every direction.
"Everyone freeze!" A voice boomed through the foyer. "Nobody moves!"
We reached the entrance as two officers shouldered their way through the front door. The bigger one looked like he benched trucks for fun, taking up almost the entire doorframe as he planted himself there.
"Listen up!" he bellowed, one meaty hand resting on his belt. "Party's over. Nobody leaves until we check IDs."
Perfect. Just fucking perfect.
I felt her tense beside me, those things hidden in her waistband might as well have been burning her skin. I could practically feel her panic.
"Look, officers." I stepped forward, forcing my voice into something professional. "There seems to be some confusion—"
"No confusion here," Truck-Bencher cut me off, the scar on his lip twisting as he frowned. "Got noise complaints, reports of underage drinking. Everyone stays put."
"I'm faculty at the university. These are my students and they're all over twenty-one. You're wasting everyone's time—"
"Nobody leaves until we say so."
"You really want to process IDs for over two hundred students?"
"You telling me how to do my job?" He shifted closer, chest puffed out despite me having two inches on him.
Withdrawal crawled beneath my skin like insects, each bite feeding the rage that built vertebra by vertebra up my spine. "Depends. Are you actually doing it, or just power tripping?"
"Back the fuck up." His hand dropped to his belt. "Last chance."
I felt her fingers digging into my arm, trying to pull me back. But the rage was a living thing now, burning away anything resembling sense or restraint. "Or what?"
The punch came fast. I dropped, and heard the sickening crack of bone against flesh—not mine. Some poor student next to me. For a heartbeat, everything stopped. Then chaos.
Bodies everywhere. Screaming. Shoving. Radio static cutting through the roar. Her hand in mine as we pushed through the surge. Her friends somewhere behind. Everything blurred. I can't remember when she let go of my hand.
I just remember the scream. Different from the others. Then her voice, "Get her on the ground!" I shoved through the mass of bodies. Saw the girl on the floor. Ice flooded my veins.
I knew that face. Higurama's intern. My patient. My responsibility.
I dropped beside her, my hands shaking so violently I could barely feel them. Her eyes rolled back. Withdrawal made everything too sharp, too bright. I couldn't think. Couldn't—
Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. It was her voice. Fingers gripped my arm. "Satoru, look at me." I met her eyes. Steady. Unnerving. "Focus."
Everything snapped back into place. My phone was in my hand before I realized I'd moved. "This is Dr. Gojo from Jujutsu Medical. Twenty-six-year-old female, epileptic, pre-seizure presentation. We need immediate assistance."
My voice was mechanical, professional. Inside, my mind screamed. Why was she here? Had she been drinking? Were her meds interacting with something? I should know this. Should be better than this. Should be fucking better.
Nausea rose in my throat and I'd never felt more like a failure in my entire fucking life.
Behind us, the fight continued to rage. A man’s voice bellowed, trying to restore order. Then Suguru was there, kneeling beside her, his hands gentle as he cradled her head. He murmured something, soft and low. The tenderness in his movements caught me off guard.
"The ambulance is taking too long." His voice cut through everything. Before I could process it, he had her in his arms, head protected against his chest and moved.
─── ·✧· ───
I can't remember how we got to the hospital.
Everything blurred into fragments. Flashing lights, squealing tires, the weight of everything crushing my chest. Each breath scraped like broken glass. My hands wouldn't stop shaking until I swallowed three pills. Maybe four. I lost count.
The fluorescent lights overhead were too bright, too harsh, making my skull feel like it was splitting open. I wanted to crack my head against the wall.
Some part of me was still moving, still speaking in that detached doctor voice — rattling off medical history, medications, possible interactions. Years of training overriding the screaming in my head. But they never trained us for this.
Never trained us for how guilt tastes like acid in your throat while watching your mistakes breathe shallowly on starched white sheets.
They taught us to make clean incisions, to suture arteries, to restart hearts. But not how your own heart would seize when you recognize the face on the floor. Not how your girlfriend’s hands would be steadier than your own worthless trembling ones as you fumbled for your phone, your throat closing around the words "this is my fault", "please" and "I'm sorry."
Didn’t prepare us for withdrawal turning your hands into treacherous strangers while someone seized at your feet. For the shame that festers in your gut as you come down, struggling to remember basic fucking dosages through the need scorching through your veins.
They never warned us how love would carve you open worse than any scalpel, making you both butcher and victim, instrument and incision. Never warned us about loving someone while you’re falling apart. How it feels like drowning in open air, your chest cracked wide and your beating heart wrenched out into daylight, desperate and terrified and somehow still pumping, still fighting, still so fucking afraid.
Higurama's intern lay still now, the steady drip of the IV marking time like a metronome in the silence. I watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, my mind replaying the medications, the dosages, searching for the mistake I must have made. There had to be one. There was always one.
Perhaps he was right about me after all. Funny how even now, even here, I could still hear his voice so clearly.
"You okay?"
She sat across from me, swallowed by my spare clothes—an old t-shirt and sweatpants that draped loosely on her frame, a blanket draped over her legs. Anything was better than those clothes from before, those fucking stockings I'd personally thrown in the trash.
"Satoru?" she tried again. "You okay?"
I couldn't bring myself to answer.
"Talk me through her meds again," she said, resting her head in her palm. Her eyes, piercing and unwavering, never left my face as she waited.
I rubbed my temples, trying to focus through the exhaustion. "Standard anticonvulsants. Levetiracetam, 500mg twice daily. Added phenytoin after the first seizure." I fell back into my chair, scrubbing my hand over my face. "She couldn't tolerate the Levetiracetam, so I switched to Topiramate, 500mg thrice daily."
She was quiet for a moment. "Side effects?"
"Minor. Tremor in her extremities sometimes, but nothing she couldn't handle. It was working." I paused. "It was supposed to be working."
"EEG results?"
"Showed mild abnormalities. Nothing that would explain a seizure this severe." I scrubbed at my face again, harder this time. "I should have seen it. Should have caught something."
"Satoru." Her voice held that gentle firmness I knew so well. "You did everything right."
"Then why did she seize?" I stood abruptly, the chair screeching against linoleum. I turned away, unable to bear her gentle gaze. Outside, dawn was breaking in shades of grey. No color, no warmth, just an endless stretch of concrete and clouded sky bleeding into each other. "If I did everything right, why is she lying here?"
"Because sometimes that's just how it goes. You know this better than anyone," she said. "Medicine isn't perfect. Neither are we."
My reflection stared back at me, ghostly and distorted in the glass. Dark circles, stubble, hair a fucking mess. A doctor coming down from a high while his patient lay in a hospital bed.
"I should have increased the dosage earlier. Run more tests. I should have—"
"Seen the future?"
"I should have been better."
"You are already the best," she said, but it felt like a lie to me. "But even the best can't control everything."
Higurama's intern stirred slightly in her sleep, and we both fell silent, the moment stretching taut between us. I dragged myself back to the chair, sinking down with my face in my hands.
"You didn't do anything wrong," she whispered, leaning forward to brush a stray strand of hair from the girl's forehead. "Sometimes life just happens, and all we can do is be there to pick up the pieces."
I wanted to believe her. God, how I wanted to. But the truth sat like stones in my stomach.
"I hate this," I whispered.
"I know."
Silence.
"Do you blame yourself?" she asked quietly.
"How can I not?"
Because it's stupid, you know this. I could feel them in my bones, the words forming on her lips before she could speak them. "How did that ever change anything?" I said before she could start.
She leaned back, the chair creaking slightly. "Do you think we are terrible people?" she asked, her voice so soft I almost missed it.
I turned to look at her then, really look at her. Even exhausted and worried, wearing my old clothes, she was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Like a drug I couldn't quit, a high I'd chase until it killed me.
And what did that say about either of us? That I wanted to crack her open, crawl inside her skin and nestle myself in her marrow? Wanted to consume her, devour her, until there was nothing left but the two of us, fused together in the most depraved way possible?
It was as if we were always meant to find each other. But it was a penance, for both of us.
"I think I am what I am because of you," I finally said.
And it was the truth. She'd molded me, shaped me, just as I'd shaped her. We'd ruined each other for anyone else, stripped away the innocence and left only the filth and grit behind.
Her hand fell from her face, her eyes meeting mine. "And I am what I am because of you."
"Does that scare you?"
"I think one gets used to it."
"Yeah," I said finally, my voice rough. "I guess you do get used to it. Until you don't."
She frowned, but before she could voice something, Suguru stepped inside.
He said we should leave, and maybe that was for the better anyway, though I couldn't quite shake the feeling that there was an edge to his voice. Anger, perhaps. But I couldn't blame him. Not really.
I grabbed her things, my hand finding its familiar place at the small of her back as we headed for the door. Suguru's voice followed us down the corridor. "What did you find in Zenin's room anyway?" he asked, as if it were something to be discussed in the doorway.
I walked ahead.
I didn't need to hear again about the unconscious women on the Polaroids.
─── ·✧· ───
Too quiet.
He was never this quiet.
"How bad is it?" I asked, perched on the edge of the exam bed where the paper sheet betrayed every nervous shift of my weight with stupid crinkles. Pale morning light filtered through the blinds, casting thin stripes across the linoleum floor.
I'd coughed up blood again earlier this morning. More than last night. The metallic taste had filled my mouth before I even opened my eyes. I'd stumbled to the bathroom, careful not to wake her—she needed the rest after we spent the whole damn night at the police station.
I stared at the red running down the drain. Way more than there should be. I'd blamed it on stress and alcohol last time. But now? It meant my liver was probably failing faster than I'd thought. Coagulation system breaking down, blood vessels becoming fragile. Textbook end-stage.
I called him then. He was still at the hospital, had slept there while looking after Higurama's intern. His face had gone pale when he saw me walk in. Guess I looked as bad as I felt.
We ran tests. All of them. Blood work, chest X-rays, the works. And now here we are. I watched him reading what I assumed was my death sentence, waiting for him to finally look up, while the clock on the wall ticked away the seconds.
But he kept his eyes fixed on the test results, holding himself with the careful rigidity of someone handling explosives. Another bad sign.
"Suguru."
He exhaled slowly, finally meeting my gaze with eyes that said everything before his mouth could form the words. "You should have started treatment sooner. We talked about this months ago."
"Yeah, yeah, I know." I tried to wave off his concern. "What do the results say?"
His fingers tightened on the papers until the corners creased. "Your liver enzymes are through the roof. AST over 1000, ALT even higher. Bilirubin's climbing while albumin's dropping. Your PT/INR values—" He trailed off, shaking his head. "Your liver is failing, Satoru. Not just damaged anymore—failing."
I let the clinical terms wash over me. The doctor in me understood the implications perfectly. The addict in me wanted to laugh at the irony.
"Well," I said, forcing lightness into my tone, "guess I should have listened to you sooner, huh?"
Suguru's expression hardened. "This isn't a joke. Without immediate intervention—" He caught himself, but I could read the rest in his eyes as clearly as any lab report.
Without immediate intervention, I was dying. Fitting, really. That my body would choose to betray me just when I'd finally found something worth living for.
"How's the withdrawal going?" Suguru asked, setting down the test results.
"Managing." I ran a hand through my hair, trying to ignore how even that simple movement felt like too much effort. "Reduced the hydromorphone gradually. Down to about 5mg now."
"Satoru." His voice carried that familiar note of frustration, the one I'd heard a thousand times before. "You need to stop completely. Not reduce—stop. Your liver can't handle any more strain."
"I'm trying," I snapped, then immediately regretted the harshness. "Sorry. I know you're trying to help."
Suguru pulled up a chair, sitting down with a heavy sigh. "We need to start treatment immediately. The protocol won't be pleasant—high-dose corticosteroids, immunosuppressants, possibly plasmapheresis if things get worse."
"Sounds fun."
"It'll be brutal," he continued, ignoring my sarcasm. "The side effects alone—you'll need to be monitored constantly. Multiple blood draws daily, frequent imaging. And absolutely no narcotics—your liver won't survive it."
I absorbed this, the clinical reality of what lay ahead settling into my bones. "So basically, I get to feel like shit while you stick me with needles and watch me suffer."
"That's about right. But it's either that or start planning your funeral."
"At least you're honest." I attempted a smile that felt more like a grimace. "When do we start?"
"Tomorrow morning. I'll admit you tonight, get you set up in a private room," Suguru said, already reaching for admission forms.
"Monday morning."
He looked up sharply. "What?"
"I have a family dinner on Sunday," I shrugged. "Can't skip it."
"Are you insane?" Suguru's voice rose to fill the small room. "Your liver is failing, Satoru. This isn't something you can postpone for a damn dinner party."
"Monday morning," I repeated firmly. "I gave my word I'd be there."
"Your word won't mean much if you're dead."
"I can manage two more days."
"No, you can't." Suguru slammed the test results down with enough force to make me flinch. Since when is he always so fucking tense? "Your numbers are critical. Every hour we delay treatment increases the risk of complete liver failure."
"Monday."
"For fuck's sake, Satoru—"
"I said Monday. I need to do this, Suguru. Please."
He stared at me for a long moment, jaw clenched so tight I could hear his teeth grinding. Finally, his shoulders slumped.
"Fine. Monday morning, first thing. But if you show any signs of deterioration—any at all—I'm admitting you immediately. And no alcohol at that dinner. Not a single drop."
"Deal."
"I mean it, Satoru."
"I know," I said, trying to inject some levity into the heavy atmosphere. "You can do all sorts of things to me on Monday. Not like I have much on my schedule anyway."
"So Yaga has exempted you?"
"Temporarily relieved of my teaching duties until further notice." I tried to keep my voice light, but the words still choked me. "Apparently, licking your student's leg in public view isn't considered acceptable behavior. Who knew?"
"Everyone would have known that."
"Most people were too drunk to remember anyway, or too busy dealing with the police raid afterwards to care." I shrugged. "Silver lining?"
"This isn't funny. Do you have any idea how serious this is? Your career—"
"My career?" I almost laughed. "In case you missed the memo, my liver's failing. I think my career concerns just got bumped down the priority list."
Suguru fell silent.
"Besides," I added, "maybe it's for the best. Can't exactly teach while going through treatment, can I?"
"Yaga doesn't know about your condition?"
"No, and he's not going to. As far as he's concerned, I'm just taking some time to... reassess my professional boundaries."
"And when he asks why you're not fighting this?"
I sighed. "Let him think what he wants. I've got bigger problems right now."
"Like a family dinner you're insisting on attending despite being on death's door?"
"Exactly." I flashed him a grin, this one a little more genuine despite everything. "See? You're getting it."
"You're impossible."
"That's why you love me."
"That's why I'm going to enjoy sticking you with needles on Monday."
"Kinky."
His expression sobered, eyes searching my face. "You should tell her."
The mere mention of her sent a knife twisting in my gut. "No."
"Satoru—"
"I said no. She has enough to deal with right now. This stays between us."
Suguru shook his head but didn't argue further. He knew me too well to waste his breath.
"I will," I added softly, more to convince myself than him. "When I'm a bit better."
"This will kill her."
"I know."
Silence.
"I'm sorry," I finally managed. "For being an asshole. For everything. And... thanks for coming to the party with me."
"You already apologized."
"I mean it." I met his gaze. "You've always been there, even when I didn't deserve it."
Something shifted in his expression—a flicker of the friendship we'd shared before everything got so complicated. Before I'd dragged us both into this mess.
"Just don't die on me," he said. "I've invested too much time in keeping your stupid ass alive."
I pushed off the bed, steadying myself against the sudden dizziness that threatened to knock me over. "See you Monday."
"You're a stubborn idiot," he called after me. I didn't disagree.
I stopped at the door, turning back. "Hey, what's going on between you and Higurama's intern anyway?"
Suguru stiffened slightly. "Nothing. Just concerned since she's my patient now too."
I studied him, noting the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze shifted slightly left—his tell when he wasn't being entirely truthful.
"Sure," I said, too exhausted to push it further. "See you Monday."
As I walked away, I wondered if he knew how obvious he was. Then again, who was I to judge? I was hardly an expert at handling matters of the heart.
─── ·✧· ───
I paused outside our apartment door, my hand trembling on the handle. Withdrawal clawed through me, a living thing twisting my gut. Each breath was a struggle, my lungs constricting as if they'd forgotten their purpose. Just breathe, idiot. In, out. You're almost there.
Relief flooded through me the moment I opened the door. Her shoes were there, neatly arranged next to my scattered ones. Her coat on the hook. She was home.
Strange how that simple fact could lift the weight crushing my chest, made breathing a fraction less painful. No matter how bad things were, coming home to her felt like breaking the surface after being underwater too long.
Dog bounded up to greet me, tail whipping back and forth, before darting off toward the bedroom. Smart boy knew exactly where to find her. I kicked off my shoes, let my jacket fall where it would, and followed.
She was there, sprawled across our bed in a sea of papers, bathed in the warm light of the bedside lamp. The sight of her stole what little breath I had left. Hair messily pulled back, drowning in one of my old t-shirts, completely lost in whatever she was reading. Beautiful. It was a beauty that made my heart ache.
Without a word, I crawled onto the bed, dragging myself up until I could rest my head on her stomach. I paused, remembering the bruises on her midsection. But before I could pull back, she gently tugged me closer and I surrendered, resting my head against her warmth.
I wrapped my arms around her waist and her fingers found my hair instantly, like they belonged there, gentle strokes that made my eyes flutter closed and I thought, this was home. This was peace. Even as my body screamed for relief, even as guilt gnawed at me, here with her, I could almost believe everything would be okay.
"What are you reading?" I mumbled against her shirt, already knowing the answer. Why did she still throw herself into this project? Did it even matter anymore? But I already knew that answer too. Distraction.
"Research papers. For our project." Her fingers never stopped their magic. "Everything okay at the hospital?" I wondered for a second how she knew where I went, but then she said, "Antiseptic smell."
Did I always smell like that? Like the harsh, sterile scent of the hospital? I hated it. Hated how it seemed to cling to my skin no matter how many times I scrubbed my hands raw. Hated the way it reminded me of sickness and death.
I hugged her tighter, breathing in her familiar scent as that was so unlike the clinical smell of the hospital as I crafted the lie. Yeah, everything's fine, I told her. Had to check on something with a patient. Normal stuff, nothing to worry about. Standard procedure.
But even as I spoke, the guilt in my stomach twisted. The truth was, I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep going like this. I could feel myself slipping, losing my grip on the things that mattered most and I couldn't help but wonder if I'd even make it to the end.
If I'd be there to witness the results of our research, to stand by her side as we perhaps do something great. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to drown out the intrusive thoughts, focusing on the feel of her beneath me, the steady rise and fall of her breath.
Her fingers paused momentarily in my hair, and I knew she sensed something off. She always could read me too well. But then she resumed the gentle stroking.
"You'd tell me if something's wrong, right?"
"Of course," I whispered, another lie to add to the growing pile.
I tightened my arms around her waist, as if by holding her close enough, I could somehow make up for my betrayal. As if loving her fiercely enough could somehow balance out the pain I was about to cause her. Monday felt both too far away and not nearly far enough.
Desperate for a distraction, I asked about how it went at the police station. She said it was fine, her friends were with her as they'd needed to clarify their statements, she explained, her fingers still weaving through my hair. Everything had been too hazy right after the party.
She mentioned they needed me to verify my own statement again too. I bit back the urge to say that they'd likely have to come to my hospital bed for that. Instead, I just hummed in response. Whatever it took to make that little shit pay for what he'd done.
"He won't hurt anyone else," she added. "We'll make sure of it."
Something about her struck me as odd. How could she be so unaffected by everything that had happened? Like we didn’t just discover that Zenin Naoya was—
"You're so calm about it."
"And what would you have me do?"
I didn’t know. Maybe I should be grateful that at least one of us could keep it together.
I turned my head, pressing a kiss to her palm. I wanted to tell her how proud I was of her, how sorry I was for dragging her into this mess, how I feared the rumors that would follow her through university halls. How fucking terrified I was. How much I loved her. But it all just crowded in my throat, tangled with all the other truths I couldn't voice.
Instead, I just held her tighter. "I'm sorry," I whispered.
"For what?"
I didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Or lie again. I clung to her, as if she were the only thing keeping me from falling apart, pressing my face into her stomach, trying to blur myself into her very being. "Satoru,” she winced, a small sound escaping her lips. "You're hurting me."
"Please," I pleaded, tears pricking at my eyes. “Just… bear it for a moment. Please.” But then, a sudden tickle rose in my throat, and I sat up abruptly, he movement sending the room spinning.
"You okay?" she asked, sitting up as well, her hand cradling her side.
"Yeah," I managed, before another cough clawed its way out. I stood, turning away from her, my hand coming up to cover my mouth. When I pulled it away, blood glistened on my palm.
"Satoru? You sure you're okay?"
"Everything's fine." I curled my fingers into a fist, watching red seep between my knuckles. "Just need some water."
I should call him again. Should probably head to the hospital right now. Every logical part of my brain screamed at me to seek help, to stop this madness before it was too late.
But Sunday's dinner loomed in my mind. One last chance to fix things with her, to make things right before everything inevitably crumbled around us. Just two more days. I just needed to hold on for two more days and then I could let the chips fall where they may.
Even as blood painted the back of my throat red, I clung to that desperate hope, that foolish notion that I could make this right. I knew I was being stupid. Reckless. Playing Russian roulette with a fully loaded gun.
But then again, what did it matter anyway?
<- prev chapter | next chapter ->
author's note — welcome back, i hope this wasn't too intense, even tho i went through all stages of grief writing this chapter, but i'm quite happy with how it turned out. hope you all survived seeing things through satoru's eyes once more. writing from his perspective is always both challenging and thrilling in some strange way.
quick note, as this is somehow not obvious to some people: i understand that this story deals with controversial topics and might not be everyone’s cup of tea but this is purely fictional work, and i'm just here to enjoy a stupid little hobby. i am not looking for criticism. if the story makes you uncomfortable, feel free to block me and move on.
for those following the spin-off: yes, this chapter runs parallel to remedies and reasons chapter 04 ! if you want to see how certain events played out from a different angle, definitely check out the suguru spin-off.
and i want to thank you all for your incredible support. your comments, messages, and theories continue to blow me away. seeing how deeply you connect with this story and catch all the little details i sprinkle throughout brings me so much joy. your thoughtful analyses and wild speculations make writing this stupid story so much fun !! :''))
also a massive thank you to @/nanamis-baker who beta reads all these chaotic chapters, listens to my rambling about plot points, and talks me down whenever i'm convinced everything i write is terrible <3
& second quick note about the alcohol consumption in this story: while it's serve the narrative of the story, please remember that alcohol is toxic to the body and brain, with no "safe" amount. please be mindful of your health and wellbeing.
next chapter we'll be back to our regular pov as we deal with the aftermath of... well, all of this. until then, take care of yourselves ! and as always, thank you for joining me on this chaotic journey and being patient with my slow updates <3
ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here !
tags — @browrm @panteramarron @starlightanyaaa
@myahfig4 @rosebluod @bloopsstuff @depressedemosantaclaus @nanamis-baker
@tofumiao @shoruio @s3vtrue @rosso-seta @bnha-free-writing
@chiyokoemilia @bonequinhagojo @janbannan @mikkmmmii @yeiena
@coeqi @faustina @glenkiller338 @yenmrtnz @buni-bunnydoll
© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.
#symptoms and causes#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo fanfiction#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo angst#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#jjk x you#jjk smut#jjk angst#gojo x reader#gojo fanfiction#gojo x you#gojo smut#gojo angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen angst
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Thoughts on a threesome with Lighter and Harumasa
MDNI!!
Tw: NSFW; VERYYYY OOC lol; double penetration in one hole (only mentioned at the end lol); Rough sex; Fem! Reader; unedited and written with a serious fucking migraine like my god
I’m so fucking sick today but I had an idea so… imagineeeeee with me if you will…
You and Lighter are walking around New Eirdu, picking things up for the girls, running errands, usual shit. It’s a nice little routine thing the two of you have. He gets his job done and gets to spend time with you, win win!
He turns around for one second — literally one second just looking at some flowers (for you, btw) — and when he turns back around your attention is occupied. Not only is it occupied, but it’s taken by Asaba Harumasa. Sweet talking, ever flirty Asaba Harumasa.
He’s not a bad guy, honestly, Lighter doesn’t dislike him. You’d mentioned once or twice how you knew the guy. Some kinda old fuck buddy, it wasn’t anything Lighter cared about too much. You were his partner after all, it would be stupid not to trust you.
Him, though, Lighter didn’t trust him one bit. Not with the subtle touches and the unnecessary flirty comments. He watches you two veryyyy carefully, taking it all in until he can’t take it anymore and he has to pull you into his side.
“Oh! Lighter, fancy seeing you here~” Harumasa purrs in such a sickeningly sweet tone.
He makes it very clear that you and he are and item, but that only seems to egg Haru on further… His little comments getting more and more bold, pointed and intentional in riling him up. You’re stuck in the middle of an ego war that you can’t break up (and have no idea why it’s happening).
Then, somehow, the conversation is steered toward your sex life. No one is really sure how or why, but Harumasa and Lighter are having a literal dick measuring contest in front of you when Harumasa suggests that they should “Find out who you like better.”
Anddd that’s how you ended up with Lighter pounding into your sopping cunt from behind and Harumasa fucking your throat like it was the end of the world. Their little competition forgotten in favor of making you squirm beneath them <3
You’d cum at least four times now and they seemed determined to make a fifth. They alternate what their hands are doing occasionally. Sometimes Harumasa is pulling at your hair, other times Lighter’s squeezing your tits in his hands. Regardless, not an inch of you is left untouched by either of them.
Harumasa pulls out from your throat, and in your fucked out state you try follow him only for Lighter to tug you back by your hair. You don’t even try to fight it when he manhandles you into a sitting position on his lap.
Your pussy is literally drooling down both of your thighs, and Lighter scoops some of it up and tastes it. Harumasa smiles at the sight, seemingly quite satisfied with himself, “Can I have a taste?”
You expect Lighter to maybe let him eat you out, or even just pick up some with his own fingers. Instead he pulls Harumasa forward and kisses him. You can only watch with big empty dazed eyes as they do so. You swear you hear Harumasa moan, but just as you’re getting to enjoy it, they seem to remember you’re there again.
“Feeling left out, baby?” Lighter hums as his fingers find your clit, rubbing fast circles.
Harumasa pushes your legs open, the two of them working to readjust you so your legs are thrown atop Lighters, Haru sliding himself between them. “I think she is, poor thing…”
You most certainly were not, but you weren’t going to say that. Lighter slides out of you, and you literally cry out at the loss of him. “Aww, I told ya she likes it. Look at her cryin’.”
Harumasa laughs dryly, tapping his member against Lighter still moving fingers, “Yeah, yeah, whatever makes you feel more secure.”
You whine at their arguing and they both coo back at you like you’re some kind of pet. They were plotting something sinister, you could feel it in the way Lighter kept pressing the tip of his dick against your ass. Certainly they didn’t expect you to take them both at the same time.
“There’s only one good way to determine who’s the best, right?” Harumasa purrs, nudging Lighter out of the way so he could properly tease your cunt.
“Mhm…” Lighter hums, “You can take both of us at once, right?”
Fuck.
#zzz x reader#lighter zzz x reader#lighter x reader#zzz lighter x reader#zzz lighter lorenz x reader#lighter zzz#lighter lorenz x reader#lighter lorenz#zzz harumasa#harumasa asaba#asaba harumasa x reader#harumasa x reader#zzz harumasa x reader#erm#bunni's treats 🧁#i need to go to bed now good night
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Sloane nodded thoughtfully and absorbed the single parent idea with just a small element of sadness, he knew she had lost her mother from their discussions on the constellations. He hoped it wouldn't be too painful for her to think about in the mission but he trusted her to say if it was the case. "We'll do that then, I am sure I can tug on the right strings to get them to let her in." He put on his very best sad expression, which was very convincing before he let it fade back into a warm smile for her.
"Yes I am hoping tonight will be a case of two birds and one stone." He looked to Killian and Violet, "maybe four stones, but that just means we can hit harder." He partly teased but he had promised they would do what they could to try and reverse what had been done to the student and it would start with catching and 'questioning' whoever it was behind the experiments. Fully understanding what it was Samantha was suggesting in her 'asking' idea.
He saw how he had made her speechless and he put a hand around her shoulder to pull her back into a small hug, caring and thoughtful hoping he had not upset her even as she thanked him. "They can still pick and chose who to send where," Sloane said of Delta Green and maternity leave, "perhaps you can be the person to start implementing the idea of maternity leave." He suggested with a flash of a smile. "But you should not put your life on hold for fear of things that might not even happen. You give so much to the missions and to the world that you deserve your chance to take a step back and live the life which you're protecting. You can put measures into place for your family. I have and when that time comes, just give me a clue and we'll talk through what you can do."
Theo was a little blown away at the idea of Fire Vampires looking and acting like bolts of lighting. He was struggling to work out if they were real or if Violet was perhaps being told something of a weird urban legend about them. But she had said she had captured them. It was very hard to believe, everything she said and had been through but for the rollercoaster of emotions already that night, he was happier to accept rather than question it as he went off to find the soda cans.
He picked up enough of them that they were spilling from his arms as he made his way back from the trash can. Not even batting an eye at having rummaged through it, too excited in the moment to at least feign disgust, but nice collage campus bins in the campus theatre were a safe bet compared to what he sometimes ended up picking through in New York. "Here we go," he said as he moved to the far side of the stage from her to start setting the cans out at different heights, some on the floor, some on a bench and desk.
Sloane gave Violet a smile and a very clear thumbs up for her showing him the crossbow as he nearly spoke out of the side of his mouth to Samantha. "We should probably limit the ammunition on that one." He suggested as he watched a fifteen year old waving around what had been a deadly weapon for centuries now. "I hope her aim is as good as she said it was." But Sloane made no attempt to stop either Violet or Killian, perhaps because he wanted to see if it would work and if he could and should let Violet use it in their plan.
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
Yes, it would be a lot more fun. "You're right," she admitted anyway, "let's try to play the teacher card first. You could tell them that you have her for the weekend but have to work late tonight. The single dad angle should mellow out whoever's in charge of the dorms." She spoke from experience.
"I bet we can finish the mission tonight," she echoed, perhaps more optimistic, or too optimistic. But like Sloane had said so himself, once they had the monster trapped, they could easily lure the man behind this awful experiment! "Whoever did this to this poor student might even know how to undo it. It'll be worth it to ask him once we have him." And by 'ask', Samantha did mean 'use force if necessary'. Which Violet would not be allowed to witness.
Sloane's words left her speechless for a moment. She blushed, teary-eyed. "Thank you," she finally managed after a few seconds, "I would like that, you know. Be a mother. But as long as I'm on the field... Delta Green doesn't really offer maternity leave." She looked at Violet and thought about how she adored her father. Then she thought about her own father. She loved him too. But she had still raised herself, in the end. "What if something happens to me? What if my kid loses me?" Her eyelashes fluttered. "I'm sorry." She knew Sloane had kids of her own.
Oh, right. This Theo didn't know about Fire Vampires. And she hoped he would never have to encounter one. "Fire Vampires look like huge bolts of lightning," she explained, "once they touch something, it bursts into flames. But as it turned out, they don't just look like lightning, they work like it too. So, they were immediately trapped inside my lightning rods." She grinned. "They seemed quite unhappy about it.
Violet trusted that he knew where to find empty cans -after all, he had been posing as a student at this university. She waited as he trotted to one of the bins, excited to try her crossbow. When she seemed to notice Sloane was looking at her, she waved in his direction and proudly pointed at the crossbow.
Samantha's smile was a little bit tense as she waved back. "If her weapon-making skills are on par with her trap-making skills... I think it will." Which was good, right? And also very worrying.
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they beg to be taken back, SKZ.
featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader ( masterlist )
summary — a reaction of how the stray kids boys realize they can’t live without you, and come to beg you for a second chance!
contents — angst, mentions of fights, possible reconciliation.
bang ♢ chan
bang chan had always been composed, the leader who held everyone together. but when you broke up with him, the cracks in his armor showed. he respected your decision and convinced himself that it was for the best, despite the emptiness growing unbearable.
he wasn’t himself since and the people around him began to notice. the usual spark in his eyes dimmed, and the weight of your absence felt suffocating. he replayed the last argument over and over in his head, agonizing over what he could’ve done differently. but as much as he respected your decision, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to try, just one more time, to fight for what you both had.
it was late when he showed up at your doorstep, his hand hovering over the doorbell. when you answered, you were more than surprised to see him standing there, his shoulders slightly hunched as if he was carrying the weight of the world. his hair was disheveled, eyes rimmed red. he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
“chan? what are you doing here?” the nickname slipped from your lips almost too easily and you suppressed the urge to recoil. being around him — being his, was too easy. even with the two months apart, one look into his eyes was all it took for everything to come rushing back.
“i… i needed to see you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly and his australian accent slightly thicker, which was a sign of his nervousness. “i know you said that it’s over, but i can’t accept it — not without trying to make things right.”
you felt something in your chest lurch, and for a few moments you were rendered speechless. a large part of you wanted to forget the fight and what lead up to it, but the smaller part of you kept reminding you of how alone he made you feel despite being together. “we’ve already talked about this. you need to let me go. i... i don’t want to go back to feeling the way i did.”
he shook his head, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “i can’t just let you go,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “i know i messed up. i wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, i treated you like another responsibility, and i hate myself for it. but please, give me a chance to prove that i can do better. i can’t lose you like this.”
“chan…” you looked away, your heart breaking at the vulnerability in his voice. your own eyes blurred with tears and you tried to blink them away.
“i know i’m asking a lot,” he continued, taking a tentative step closer. his hands itched with the need to reach out for your waist; the feeling of your skin under his palms a muscle memory. “but i love you. i love you more than anything, and i can’t imagine my life without you in it. tell me what i need to do, and i’ll do it. just… don’t give up on us.”
his desperation was raw and unfiltered, and it was clear that he’d spent every waking moment thinking about this moment. whether you took him back or not, he was determined to fight for you until the very end.
felix ♢
felix was a wreck after the breakup. the ever-present sunshine in his personality dimmed, replaced by a quiet sadness that the others noticed but didn’t know how to fix. he replayed the moments leading up to your decision endlessly, wondering where he went wrong. no matter how hard he tried to respect your choice and acknowledge his mistakes, his heart refused to let it go.
one rainy evening, he found himself standing in the reception office of your workplace while soaked to the bone. he didn’t care that the receptionist was eyeing him in annoyance for dripping on the floors, or that he looked homeless from his red-rimmed eyes and masked face. when you finally made your way down after a call from your superiors, you were shocked.
“felix? what the hell?” you whisper-yelled, your voice laced with concern despite the shock as you grasped his arms to lead him to the bathrooms instead of the ac-blasting reception so he wouldn’t get sick.
“i had to see you,” he said, his voice trembling. both from the cold and his overwhelming feelings. “i couldn’t just… let it end like that.”
you sighed, grasping his freezing hands in yours and holding it under the hot air of the hand drier, not caring that you were in the men’s room. felix couldn’t care less either as he momentarily basked in the feeling of your soft hands in his after so long. “i know i hurt you, and i hate myself for it. but i can’t let you go without telling you how much you mean to me.”
“and you thought this was the smartest way to do it? by getting yourself sick?” you shook your head, trying to keep your emotions in check. he broke your heart, you tried to remind yourself to keep yourself steely. it didn’t work.
“i know i made mistakes,” he continued, his voice breaking as he sniffled and you avoided his gaze and chalked it up to the cold. “i wasn’t there for you the way i should have been. but you… you’re everything to me. you’re the reason i smile, the reason i wake up in the morning. please, tell me how to fix this.”
his vulnerability was heart-wrenching and you felt your own eyes blur through your silence. felix didn’t look away from you the entire time, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i’ll do anything, anything to make things right. just… don’t walk away from me. from us.”
as the rain continued to pour outside, felix stood there, baring his soul to you. he wasn’t just asking for forgiveness — he was offering every piece of himself, hoping it would be enough to convince you to take him back.
lee ♢ know
lee know was stubborn by nature, and after the breakup, he tried to convince himself he didn’t need anyone. he put on a brave face around the others, burying himself in practice and work. taking on excess time to keep his mind off you worked for a while, but even then every time he went home to the empty silence of his apartment, your absence hit him like a freight train.
his members began to notice his stubbornness and attempt to dismiss your relationship, giving him the space he needed as they hoped he’d work through it. but it began to become clear he was taking the ostrich’s way out — burying his head in the sand and pretending everything was fine.
it took weeks for him to swallow his pride and realize he didn’t want to deal with the emptiness anymore. the fight was so stupid and you were the love of his life, so why weren’t you together right now?
he wasn’t one to beg, but losing you was something he slowly realized he couldn’t bear. and so one evening after heavy contemplation, he found himself standing outside your apartment door, clutching his phone in one hand and a small bouquet of your favorite flowers in the other.
when you opened the door, you paused and your eyes widened in surprise. your treacherous heart missed a beat and you attempted to school your expression to normal. “minho? what are you doing here?”
“i, uh, i needed to see you,” he said, his usual cool demeanor replaced with a hesitance you rarely saw.
your mind flashed with the hurtful words he threw at you during the argument and you crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “i thought we agreed that separating was for the best.”
“maybe i thought so at first,” he admitted, his voice soft but firm. “but i don’t think i can do this anymore. i can’t pretend that i’m okay being without you because i’m not.”
“minho…” you started, looking away as you didn’t know what to say.
“i know i don’t say it enough,” he interrupted, his gaze dropping to the ground. “but i love you. i loved you then, and i love you now. and i hate that i let you go without fighting for you. i hate that i was so stupid.”
“you hurt me,” you said, a slight wobble in your voice that you attempted to mask with by clearing your throat softly. but the hurt in your eyes was hard to miss. “i can’t just forget that.”
“i know,” he said, stepping closer. he put the flowers down on the floor by your feet as he took your hands in his, his palms warm. “and i don’t expect you to. but i want to make it up to you. i’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again. because i mean it when i say i won’t make the same mistakes again.”
he squeezed your palms softly, bringing your fingers up to his lips. “i know i’m not the best at showing how much you mean to me. but you do — more than anything. and if there’s even the smallest part of you that still feels the same way, please… give me another chance.”
it wasn’t easy for lee know to open up like this, but the thought of losing you for good outweighed his fear of vulnerability and hesitance. whether or not you decided to take him back, he was determined to show you just how much you meant to him.
hyun ♢ jin
hyunjin wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but the breakup managed to shatter the carefully built walls around his emotions. he threw himself into his art and practice, hoping it would drown out the ache in his chest. but no matter how many brushstrokes he painted or routines he perfected, nothing could fill the void you’d left behind.
while hoping to take a walk on evening , hyunjin mindlessly ended up walking into your favorite park, the place where you’d spent countless nights talking about dreams and fears. as usual, you were there sitting on the same bench you’d share, a book on your lap but your mind and gaze were elsewhere.
hyunjin stood there for a few moments, unable to look away until your wandering gaze settled on him. you paused, startled to see him there, his usually confident posture replaced by a tentative nervousness as he slowly walked to you.
“hyunjin?” you looked up at him, unsure if you should address him in public since your relationship was over. he was dressed in black, a mask covering the bottom half of his face, but you recognized him immediately.
he hesitated for aa moment before he sat down beside you, a small bittersweet smile tugging at his lips even though you couldn’t see it. “i wasn’t sure you’d be here,” he admitted.
“i didn’t know you’d be here either,” you replied cautiously, fidgeting with your book in your lap. would you have come if you knew? maybe, maybe not.
he took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto you even though you wouldn’t look back at him. “i just... i needed to see you. i can’t keep pretending i’m okay with this when i’m not.”
“hyunjin, we’ve already talked about this…”
“i know,” he interrupted, his voice heavy with emotion. “but i can’t let it end like this. i know i hurt you really bad, and i hate myself for it every day. i thought i was protecting you from this life and me, but all i did was push you away.”
your fingers softly tightened around the book, trying to calm yourself against the raw emotion in his voice. “it’s not that simple.”
“i know it’s not,” he said, scooting slightly closer. he couldn’t take his eyes off you. you were so pretty. “but i love you. i’ve always loved you, even when i was too scared to show it. and if there’s even a small part of you that still cares about me and what we had, then please… let me try to fix this.”
his voice broke as he added, “i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to. just… don’t give up on us. not yet.”
you finally looked up at him and your breath hitched at the proximity. the vulnerability in hyunjin’s eyes was almost too much for you to bear. he wasn’t just asking for forgiveness — he was offering every piece of himself, hoping it would be enough to convince you to give him one last chance. he wouldn’t lose you again.
i.n ♢
jeongin had never experienced heartbreak like this before. the breakup ended up hitting him harder than he ever thought possible. he spent days replaying the fight you both had in his head, wondering how he could’ve done things differently. his hyungs tried their best to cheer him up, but their efforts only seemed to highlight the emptiness he felt without you.
you were his first relationship, his first kiss, his first love and the woman he thought he’d marry some day. he’d questioned his success as an idol, he’d question his talents — but the lifetime of your relationship was one thing he never had to question. so to have that one dream shattered was more than the average heartbreak. jeongin would probably never date again.
only nine days had passed since you left, and after those 200 hours, jeongin couldn’t take it anymore. he knew your schedule in and out, and he knew exactly where you’d be on a weekend evening at 5.
he showed up at your favorite café, the place where you’d spent countless afternoons together and took a seat at the very booth you’d always sit at, counting down the minutes to when you’ll show up.
so when you walked in and spotted him sitting at your usual table, his nervous smile and the familiar warmth in his eyes caught you off guard.
“jeongin?” you asked cautiously as you approached, looking around the almost empty area. “what are you doing here?”
he stood up quickly, his hands fidgeting as he spoke, wanting to reach out to you. “hi. i… i wasn’t sure if you’d come here today, but i had to take the chance.”
you hesitated, unsure of what to say. it had barely been over a week since your breakup. “what do you want?”
“i want to apologize,” he said earnestly, his voice quiet but steady. he had already made up his mind. “and to ask for another chance.”
“jeongin, we already talked about this,” you replied, shaking your head softly. the argument was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t plan to give in anytime soon. yet one look into his puppy-like eyes was all it took. damn.
“i know that,” he said quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. “but i can’t just let it end the way it did. i know i hurt you, and i know i wasn’t the boyfriend you deserved, but i want to make it right. i need to make it right.”
you sighed, hesitantly sitting down across from him. “it’s not that easy.”
“i know it’s not,” jeongin said, his gaze earnest. he was not going to leave without you. “but i love you. and i’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you. i’ve been thinking about everything i did wrong, and i promise, i’ll be better. just… don’t shut me out completely. you don’t have to take me back now, but know i’m not going to let this be the end of us.”
his voice softened as he added, “i know i’m asking for a lot, but please… let me show you how much you mean to me. even if it seems a little too late.”
you found yourself softening against your will. jeongin’s sincerity was palpable, and the quiet determination in his eyes made it clear that he wasn’t giving up on you. whether or not you decided to take him back, he was willing to do whatever it took to make amends.
han ♢
han had always been known for his bright energy, and the way he could light up a room with his laughter. but ever since the breakup, his spark was gone and it became glaringly obvious. the jokes came less frequently, and the music he created sounded hollow, even to him. he missed you, missed the comfort of your presence and the way you always seemed to understand him when no one else could.
his group members had tried to give him the time and space he needed, since your relationship was long-term and impactful. you had been by han’s side since before stray kids, and the loss of your presence in his life was something all 7 of them combined couldn’t match up to.
the moment han decided he couldn’t stay away any longer, he abandoned the practice session and rushed straight to your place without even thinking it through. the journey was a blur and his body ran on instinct until he was standing outside your door.
his hands fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie as he rehearsed what he wanted to say for a few minutes before knocking once he was semi-confident of what to say and had plastered a small nervous smile on his lips.
when you opened the door, his smile faltered at the sight of you. “hey,” he said softly, his voice tinged with hesitance, looking over the sight of you in your pajamas.
“han? what are you doing here?” you paused in shock, not expecting his presence out of all things.
“i… i couldn’t stay away,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the ground. he forgot what he planned to say. “i know i don’t have any right to be here after what happened and what i said, but i needed to talk to you.”
you looked over his sweaty and disheveled appearance as if he ran here, and crossed your arms, looking away. “we already talked, han. what’s left to say?”
“a lot,” he said quickly, his voice trembling slightly — from being out of breath, or from the prospect of losing you, he wasn’t sure. “i know i messed up real bad. i know i didn’t always handle things the way i should’ve, but i can’t —” he paused, swallowing hard. “i can’t lose you.”
you sighed, trying to keep your composure. you knew his words were true. “you realize that now? after all that was said and done?”
“i know what i said,” he said, stepping closer. “but i need you to know how sorry i am. i didn’t realize how much i was taking you for granted until you were gone. and now… now i feel like i’m missing a part of myself. you, and what we had, none of that can ever be replaced. you were the one, and i was so stupid for letting you go like that.”
“han…”
“i’m not asking you to forgive me right now,” he continued, his voice cracking. “but i just want one chance to show you that i can be better. please, just give me that chance. i won’t screw up again.”
his vulnerability was raw and unguarded, and the tears welling up in his eyes mirrored the ache in your chest. his presence only made you realize what you were missing. han wasn’t one to beg, but for you, he’d put his pride aside if it meant that he could win you back.
seung ♢ min
seungmin prided himself on his ability to stay composed, but the breakup had shaken him to his core. he replayed your last conversation over and over, analyzing every word, every tone, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. the silence in his life without you was deafening, and no amount of logic could convince his heart to move on.
he knew he had no right to approach you or ask for forgiveness after his neglect, but damn was it hard to get past your absence in his daily life. meals, practice and sleeping alone felt void — like a puzzle piece was missing, leaving the actions feeling inadequate.
it took him a month to realize he couldn’t go on without you, weeks to decide how he was going to approach you, and another handful of days to work up the courage and find himself standing outside your door. his heart was pounding in his chest and his hands felt sweaty.
when you opened your front door, you were startled to see seungmin there, his usual calm demeanor replaced with an uncharacteristic hesitance and unease. “seungmin? what are you doing here?”
“i…” he hesitated, his eyes dropping to the floor as he suddenly felt a wave of unpreparedness. “i needed to talk to you.”
you were surprised but crossed your arms and kept your expression guarded, equally as hesitant. “we’ve already said everything that needed to be said. why now?”
“no,” he said firmly, meeting your gaze. a troubled look in his eyes. seungmin wasn’t sure if he felt like crying, or throwing up. “i didn’t say enough. i didn’t fight for you the way i should have, and i can’t let it end like this.”
“seungmin…” you frowned softly
“i know i made mistakes,” he interrupted, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “i know i wasn’t always there for you the way i should’ve been. but i love you. and i can’t just let you walk away without trying to make things right.”
you sighed, looking away. “it’s not that simple. you hurt me.”
“i know,” he said, his voice softening. “and i hate myself for it. but i want to make it up to you. i’ll do whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes. i just need you to give me a chance.”
when you didn’t respond immediately, he took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. “i’m not asking you to forget everything. i’m just asking for the chance to prove that i can be better—that i can be the person you deserve.”
the quiet determination in his voice was unlike anything you’d heard from him before. it was clear that seungmin wasn’t just asking for forgiveness—he was willing to fight for you, no matter how long it took.
chang ♢ bin
changbin wasn’t used to feeling helpless, but after the breakup, he felt like his world had been turned upside down. he threw himself into his music, trying to channel his emotions into lyrics, but even that didn’t offer the relief he was hoping for. the studio felt empty without you. his group mates tried to cheer him up, but nothing could replace your touch, the sound of your laugh or the way you’d encourage him after a long day.
it didn’t take long before he realized he couldn’t let you go. your presence couldn’t be replaced by practice or writing, and every heart wrenching feeling being poured into his file of unreleased songs. it had reached a point where he had gotten tired of the separation and ended up impulsively making his way to your apartment one evening.
changbin’s heart was pounding as he worked up the courage to knock, freezing in surprise when you suddenly opened the door in that purple shirt of yours that you always wore to grocery shop. he stared at you quietly for a few moments, watching how your expression shifted from surprise to guardedness.
“changbin? what are you doing here?” you spoke softly, your gaze flickering around the hall to make sure no neighbor was out.
he hesitated, feeling extremely unprepared despite replaying the conversation in his mind the whole ride here, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “i just needed to see you,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.
“bin, we’ve already talked about this,” you began the nickname slipping too easily, but he shook his head.
“no, i need you to listen,” he said, his voice firm but he had to clear his throat to stay composed. “i know i messed up. really bad. i know i didn’t always handle things the way i should’ve, but i can’t lose you. i don’t know how to be without you.”
you sighed, fidgeting slightly as you looked over his disheveled hair and troubled expression. he wouldn’t meet your eyes either. “it’s not that simple, changbin. you can’t just show up after what happened and expect everything to be okay.”
“i know that,” he said, his dark eyes pleading as he ran his palm over his face. he wasn’t one to beg but if he left this without knowing you were his again, he didn’t know what he’d do. “but i’m willing to do whatever it takes to fix this. i’ll change. i’ll be better. just tell me what you need, and i’ll make it happen.”
you looked away, trying to maintain your resolve, but his words slowly chipped away at your defenses. he was the best you’d ever had, until he wasn’t. “why now, changbin? why couldn’t you do this before and how am i supposed to believe you’ve changed?”
“because i was scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, looking up at you as he reached out to grasp your hands in his. “i was scared of failing you, or of not being enough. but i realized i’m more scared of losing you forever. i wouldn’t be able to bear that.”
his voice trembled and he nearly found himself in tears, leaning his forehead against yours. “please, give me another chance. let me prove that i can be the person you deserve.”
notes: something about writing sad shit and horny shit really makes me tingle. anybody interested in an individual smut fic?
#skz#stray kids#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#stray kids fanfic#skz fluff#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#skz scenarios#skz fics#skz imagines#skz reactions#skz smut#stray kids smut
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Hate your guts (pt 1)
~ this fic is my Christmas gift💙 i'm dividing this into two parts bcs tumblr is shit
pairing: rockstar!hyunjin x rockstar afab!reader
genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, smut
wc: 26.6k
synopsis: hwang hyunjin, your sworn enemy. the person who finds and pushes all your buttons, annoys you and makes you angry. the person you're trying to avoid so badly, only to end up practically sharing a bed with him on tour. let the fun begin!
warnings: lots of swearing, smoking and alcohol, mentions of blood and throwing up, mild violence, multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral (f and m), fingering, handjob, semi-public sex, spanking, creampies, mix of degradation and praise
a/n: thank you @frehyun for helping me come up with a name for hyunjin's band💕 also a thank you to @jehhskz @moonchild9350 and @hyunebunx for giving me suggestions, listening to me yap and being supportive while i was writing this🥹🩷🩷🩷 title is inspired by inji, go listen to her music🫶🏻
a little ramble: feel free to skip this! but i just wanted to say that this was supposed to be done sooner cause i had other fics planned out to write but work got in the way. so i wrote this fic whenever and wherever i could; hiding in the bathroom at work, during my break, at the bus station, at 3am when i couldn't sleep etc... it's been a ride and i'm proud of how it turned out, hopefully y'all enjoy it too🥹🫶🏻
“...And do you look into the mirror to remind yourself you’re there? Or have somebody’s goodnight kisses got that covered? When I’m not being honest, I pretend that you were just some lover…”
It was a perfect but short moment.
The fresh breeze coming into the car where the window was opened just a little was enough to give you some air but still managed to hide most of your face from the outside world.
The music in your ears was loud, so loud that you were drowning in it, the warm and comforting voice, the melancholic guitar riff in the background, and the gentle sluggish drums putting it all together into a song that made your eyes water.
You tuned everything else out as this was the only moment of peace you were going to get today.
You needed every shred of sanity you could gather, and you were determined to hold onto it as much as you could.
Because today, you had an interview with him.
Hwang Hyunjin.
Oh, the name you know so well.
Even thinking about the way it sounds makes you feel angry.
It seemed as if his life mission was to find every single button of yours and push them repeatedly until you exploded like a ticking bomb.
Your mind wandered as you thought about him and how much his existence angered you, your stomach turning into knots.
Or maybe it was just pre-interview nerves.
No matter how many times you talked in front of the camera, it always made you feel anxious and jittery.
Being on stage was fun, there was no anxiety there as whenever you would step on it and see all the people cheering for you and singing along to the music you and your friends wrote, your heart felt full, your soul elated.
It was an exhilarating feeling you couldn’t even begin to explain to someone who’d never experienced it.
Every concern in your head, every ache in your soul, every tear behind your eyelids threatening to spill got erased when you gave yourself to the stage.
If you could, you would definitely try to avoid the interviews and just perform.
But your record company had other plans.
Being the only up and rising all girls rock band in the company meant that you needed promotion, and what better way to promote than to collab with the only boy rock band in the same company?
Hwang Hyunjin’s band.
Yes, you couldn’t wait for this day to be over.
“Y/n!” you were shaken out of your thoughts, as your manager pulled at your headphones.
“What?” you almost snapped at her, startled by her antics.
“You were staring off into space and muttering angrily about Hyunjin. Something like ‘poke his eyes out’ and ‘conceited dick’.” Ana giggled, covering her lips with her hand as you rolled your eyes, realizing that you’ve already arrived at the building for the interview.
“I’m sure you find all this amusing. But I am not amused at all. Last time I had an interview with that... bastard, everyone thought we were dating and started shipping us.” you recoil at the thought. “I would never date someone like him.”
“Oh y/n, lighten up! You know there will always be rumors of all kinds. The dating rumors are the least harmful ones, trust me. Just act like you’re besties with Hyunjin, for an hour tops.”
You take a deep breath in, then sigh.
“I am a professional. I will do this right.” you nod with a determined tone as Ana bumped her fist with yours.
“That’s the spirit!” your manager smacked your thigh happily as you yelped, making her laugh before she exited the car.
Since you were in the underground parking lot, there was no press around so you walked out of the car freely, going directly to the elevator that would take you to the reception.
Ana pressed the button when you walked in and just as the doors started closing, someone’s combat boot was pushed between the silver doors, stopping them and making them open again.
Your eyes traveled up from the boots, to the tight leather pants and the skimpy tank top revealing a tattoo sleeve, right to the face you hoped you won’t be seeing for at least another ten minutes.
Hyunjin had an obnoxious smirk dancing on his lips as he looked down at you, puffing his chest out like some peacock showing off his feathers and you already wanted to smack the shit out of him.
His manager, Anthony waved at the two of you, ushering him into the elevator.
“Good morning y/n, Ana.” Anthony greeted as Hyunjin kept smirking at you.
“It was good until now.” you crossed your arms over your chest.
Even the cologne Hyunjin was wearing made you want to puke your guts out so you stepped away from him.
A chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned on the wall casually, never taking his eyes off of you.
“Aw, you throwing a tantrum already baby?” he smirked at you and you started fuming.
Both of your managers rolled their eyes, Ana muttering ‘here we go again’ as she shook her head.
“I see you have a new piercing on your face. You needed another hole to let the air out of that empty head?” you said, trying to sound nonchalant and Hyunjin scoffed.
“I’m gonna ignore that comment and focus on the fact that you’re counting my piercings. Observing me, huh?” he looked at you smugly.
“Yeah, cause I have nothing better to do than-”
Ding!
“Alright, break it off kids, were here!” Anthony said, quickly pulling Hyunjin out of the elevator.
“See? I can’t stand him.” you groaned as Ana chuckled.
“You stood up to him pretty well.” Ana winked. “Let's go get some coffee, get you properly awake before the interview.” she gripped your shoulders, shaking you a little as you groaned in protest.
Thankfully, Hyunjin had disappeared somewhere and you were glad he wasn’t around to annoy you, as you made small talk with a few of the staff you knew there since you’ve already been interviewed for the same channel before.
“Ana, I’m gonna go get some air before we start.” you felt the nerves creeping up inside you.
“Okay, but you have to be back in five minutes.” she reminded you and you gave her a thumbs up, before practically sprinting down the hall to get to the little terrace hidden on the side.
Staff used it for smoke breaks, and you decided to use it to calm your anxiety down.
You flung the door open and stepped out onto the balcony, quickly taking a deep breath in while you looked down at the city before you.
“Needed to see me once more before the interview?” a voice rang out to the left of you.
Hyunjin’s voice.
Of course the bastard is here, you thought, your face becoming hot in annoyance.
“I had no idea you were here, asshole.” you turned to look at him.
He was leaning on the railing, flexing his muscles, a long vein protruding under the layer of the swirling colorful flowers inked into his skin, leading all the way to his long fingers with chipped nail polish and a cigarette pinched between his thumb and index finger.
He looked at you intently through his bangs that were haphazardly falling into his eyes, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, before his tongue poked out to play with the piercing adorning it.
“I thought you had more originality when it comes to nicknames, darling.” he said mockingly before taking another drag from his cigarette.
“Don’t call me that.” you turned around to leave but Hyunjin’s long arm quickly blocked your way, his palm splayed on the wall.
You looked up at him and stepped back, just as he puffed the smoke out your way.
“You leaving?” he looked smug again, intrusive thoughts of pushing him off the balcony appeared in your mind.
“Yes, this space is too small and your cologne is nauseating.” your face scrunches up.
“Aw, I’ll make sure to find another one you’d like.” Hyunjin smirks.
“Don’t bother.” you ducked under his arm and opened the door, walking away as fast as you could.
At least he helped in a way, you weren’t anxious anymore, just annoyed and waiting for this day to be over.
“Where is Hyunjin, we’re starting in a minute.” Anthony’s brows furrowed while you were ushered towards the room.
“Last I saw him, he was smoking on the balcony.” you shrugged as they sat you down.
The chair where Hyunjin would be sitting was too close for comfort and you wanted so badly to push it away, but you figured it was there because of the camera frame.
“We’re on in 30 seconds!” one of the staff yelled and you rolled your eyes.
Of course he was late, the self-centered bastard. You were sure he was enjoying this, everyone waiting on his highness to arrive, everyone panicking around him as he wears that disgusting smug smirk on his face.
“In 10…9…” the staff started counting down just as the door swung open and a breathless Hyunjin ran into the room, almost tripping over your crossed legs before he sat down on the chair next to you.
After he ran in, one of the girls working there ran in too, quickly taking her place with rosy cheeks and her lipgloss smeared.
You rolled your eyes and looked at him, the glitter from the girl’s lipgloss was visibly shining on his lips and chin.
“You have a little something.” you said and he smirked, wiping his chin off before leaning towards you.
“My lips were dry.” he whispered with a wink.
You were more than ready to get this over with, seething with anger at his unprofessional behavior that you didn’t even notice the camera began rolling.
“... today’s special guests are y/n of Venus Flytrap and Hyunjin of Lycoris Radiata! I hope y’all are as excited as I am, since it’s been so long. Y/n, let’s start with you. You have a new album coming out soon, can we get a little sneak peek of that?” the interviewer, Sarah, asked as you adjusted on your chair.
“This is our third album now, and this time Steph and Janey participated in the writing more than before, so the songs are really personal to all three of us.”
“Are we finally gonna hear about their love story?” Sarah wiggled her eyebrows.
“We may.” you smirked at her, not wanting to reveal too much.
“How about yours?” she added on, in the corner of your eye you saw Hyunjin leaning towards you as he stared at you, manspreading like always, his knee knocking into yours.
“Huh?”
“Your love story. Is there a special guy or girl in your life?” the interviewer asked, making you feel annoyed instantly.
You hated being asked questions like that, sometimes it felt like the music you were writing didn’t even matter, all people wanted to know was who you’re fucking.
“Not at the moment, no.” you forced a smile so you don’t seem rude.
“I thought I was special.” Hyunjin chimed in next to you, bumping his shoulder against yours, that shit eating grin you hate spreading on his face.
Before you could answer, Sarah butted in.
“Oh, is there something happening between you that we should know about?”
You could just hear the excitement in her voice, the hunger for drama dripping from her lips.
“Nothing is happening, we just like to joke around like that.” you quickly answered, hoping to deflect her to another question, or that she’d finally talk to Hyunjin and ask him about his new song, so you could take a few moments to breathe.
“So, you two are close?”
Oh no.
Here it goes again.
Last time this happened, your name got dragged on every social media platform.
People who were shipping the two of you got on your nerves, but that wasn’t the biggest problem.
No, it was the people who had sent you hate and death threats, telling you if they saw you next to Hyunjin again you’d be dead.
It took a toll on your mental health and scared you since you know people can easily find an address or stalk you somewhere and you wanted to avoid any rumors that would endanger your well-being.
“We're just coworkers.” to your surprise Hyunjin answered nonchalantly, saying exactly what you wanted to say so people would leave you alone.
Why was there a weird feeling in your chest then?
“Well, sometimes there’s passion at the workplace.” Sarah wasn’t giving it up and you were close to losing your temper and telling her to shove it already, ask some less invasive questions.
“No passion here, our relationship is strictly professional.” you said, but your skin burned where Hyunjin’s thigh pressed against yours.
In your mind you were cursing both him and Sarah, and even your manager for bringing you here.
Thankfully, she left it at that, continuing with questions about your upcoming tour and Hyunjin’s new song.
As soon as the interview finished and you were done shaking hands, Ana came to you, her hand on your shoulder as she squeezed.
In the corner of your eye, you saw Hyunjin slip out of the room.
“Good job.” she smiled as Anthony joined the two of you.
“I hope you’re hungry, y/n. This time it’s my treat, and there’s this restaurant…”
You tuned Anthony out, completely forgetting that after an interview like this, the tradition is to have dinner with Hyunjin and his manager.
“Can we skip dinner this time? I just wanna go home and lay down.”
“Nonsense, I hear your stomach growling from here. Come on, it’s free food you can’t say no.” Anthony made a goofy face, hoping to win you over.
“Fine, you had me at free food.” you sighed as Ana nodded with a smile.
“Good! Now where is our other rockstar?” he quickly looked around. “I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m a babysitter, not a manager.”
“I’ll go find him.” you offered, wanting to leave the building as soon as possible.
“Sure.” Ana nodded and you made your way down the hall.
Your footsteps echoed in the empty space, until you came closer to a corner where the sounds of hushed voices and giggles filled up your ears and made you roll your eyes.
“You know I can’t give you my number, baby. But if there is an empty room around here somewhere…” Hyunjin was talking to the girl from earlier, leaning over her body as she stared up at him like he was a god, her back against the wall.
You cleared your throat, crossing your arms on your chest.
Both of them looked up at you, Hyunjin giving you a smirk as he straightened up and the girl glared at you but you didn’t give a shit.
“We need to leave right now. Our managers are waiting for us.” you said simply as the girl whined.
“Shh, maybe some other time.” he shushed her, leaning towards her and your stomach flipped in disgust.
He didn’t kiss her, just taunted her before he leaned back and made his way towards you.
“Cockblocker.” he stuck his tongue out, the piercing adorning it catching the light for a moment.
“Do you even know her name?” you asked, keeping a fast pace and a good distance away from him.
“No. Does it matter?” he shrugged, his long legs quickly catching up to you in big strides.
“You’re despicable.” your face scrunched up in disgust as you neared the elevator where your managers were waiting and chatting.
“Throwing some big words around. You sure you know the meaning?” he smirked.
“That’s it.” you said angrily.
“What? You just basically told me I deserve to be hated just cause I wanted to have some fun.”
You looked at him, full on ready to slap him across his face but Ana stepped between the two of you.
“Fighting again? Can the two of you behave for just one evening?” Anthony frowned with a sigh as he called the elevator.
“I can behave.” Hyunjin clicked his tongue cheekily before playing with his lip ring again.
“Y/n?” Ana looked at you.
“As long as he doesn’t talk to me, I’ll be fine.” you turned away from Hyunjin, stepping into the elevator.
This is going to be one awkward dinner.
-
Choosing to disconnect in the van you put your earphones in, ignoring Hyunjin’s presence right next to you.
It’s like your managers wanted to have you two as close as possible, like they thought it’d make you hate each other less but at this moment there was nothing more you wanted than to get away from him.
Or maybe your managers wanted to be closer to each other, you smirked to yourself as Ana twirled her hair around her finger, giggling at something Anthony said.
You leaned back as the music flooded your ears, your figure slightly turned towards the window as you watched the street lights pass you by, totally unaware of a pair of eyes that were glued to you.
Hyunjin observed you in detail, how shiny your hair was as it cascaded down your back and shoulders, how your brows were slightly creased and your lips pouty as you listened to your music, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers played with the hem of your shirt as you pulled on it, how pretty the rings adorning your fingers were, how the necklace you always wore laid gently on your collarbone.
No little detail was skipped as he drinked it all in, thinking you wouldn’t notice.
But after some time as it got even darker outside, you caught Hyunjin’s reflection in the window as he stared at you with a look on his face that you’ve never seen before.
Your stomach suddenly swirled as the two of you made eye contact on the glass, Hyunjin’s plump lips falling open before he sat up and looked away, acting like nothing happened.
The rest of the ride was uneventful and you were tired of this day, having to look at Hyunjin was more exhausting to you than being on stage.
You couldn’t wait to get into your bed and disappear.
As you walked into the restaurant, you were led to a table and you could see a few people whispering and pointing at you but usually they didn’t bother you much.
However, this time was different.
As you scanned the menu, a girl timidly approached your table and you looked up at her as she stood next to Hyunjin.
“I’m - I’m sorry to bother you but I’m a really big fan and I was wondering if you’d take a picture with me?” she asked Hyunjin who immediately smirked at her.
“No pictures allowed. But you can get his signature.” Anthony chimed in.
“And who the fuck are you?” the girl changed her demeanor right away, making Hyunjin chuckle.
“Easy there, sweetheart, that’s my boss.” he wiggled his eyebrows at the girl. “Come on I’ll give you a sign and you can write me your number, maybe I’ll call you, hm?” Hyunjin winked at her and you just about lost your appetite completely.
“Oh, sure, I’d love that!” she let out a nasally laugh as he signed a napkin with a pen she somehow produced, giving it back to her as she leaned over to write her number down, making sure her tits were right in his face before she skipped back to her friends.
“Can there be at least one minute when you’re not trying to fuck something that walks?” you looked at him annoyingly and he laughed.
“Thought you weren’t talking to me.” he smirked.
“Ugh, you’re so annoying!” you were ready to smack him with the menu in your hand but Ana caught your wrist.
“I bet you love that about me.” he kept smirking.
“Love is nothing near what I feel about you.” you said, your teeth gritted.
“There’s a fine line between love and hate, you know.” Hyunjin smirked, leaning into your personal space.
“Anyways, guys. What are you ordering? Their steak is really good.” Anthony gave an awkward smile as he looked around the table.
“I want the tomato pasta.” Hyunjin leaned back, making you cackle.
“Isn’t that the kids menu? Makes sense for you somehow.”
“I’m saving room for dessert.” he winked at you, his tongue running over his lip tentatively, the piercing on it catching the light again.
“Ew.” you jolted in disgust as he laughed loudly, obviously finding enjoyment in ticking you off.
The dinner part of the outing was uneventful as everyone ate and made small talk but you didn’t miss how Hyunjin crumpled up the napkin with the fan’s number and threw it aside on the table, not caring about it.
What an asshole.
“Let’s make a little toast to this evening and the upcoming albums and tour.” Ana proposed as she lifted her glass up.
“To us.” Hyunjin smirked as he looked at you.
“To rock’n’roll!” you added as the four of you clinked your glasses together before taking a big swig of your drinks.
Hyunjin didn’t look at you on the drive home.
-
Rehearsal was supposed to start at 9am sharp, but you were there bright and early, tuning your guitar.
Being an early bird, you loved the few moments of peace you could have to yourself, just you and your music.
Your hand glided easily on the guitar’s neck, taking shapes familiar to your hands, it was muscle memory by now, your fingers picking on the strings and creating the melody you played countless times before.
You let your voice ring out in the space freely as you sang a song dear to your heart, one you wrote when you were younger.
You’d always start warming up by singing it to yourself, never having the need to actually put it out into the world.
You got into it, your eyes closed as you sang with a small smile on your face, the entire world around you disappearing shortly.
In the distance, you heard footsteps and voices belonging to your bandmates and just as you opened your eyes, you looked through the glass on the door, a shadow slithered across the wall outside, disappearing around the corner.
You squinted your eyes and stood up, putting your guitar aside and coming closer to the door.
Just as you were about to reach towards the doorknob, the voices got louder.
“Are we seriously doing this right now?” Janey asked, the tone of her voice angry.
“I’m telling you, it was nothing! I don’t know who she is and why she’s texting me!” Steph defended herself as Janey scoffed.
“I’m sick of your excuses. I’m gonna give you one last chance to make it up to me and be truthful, but after that I’m done.” you stepped back as Janey came into view, opening the door angrily.
“Oh, y/n.” she widened her eyes slightly. “Good morning.” she added, scurrying past you to take her place behind the drum kit.
Steph walked in with a scowl on her face, muttering a ‘morning’ before going straight to her bass guitar.
It wasn’t the first time they fought or even broke up.
There were many times you had to be the mediator between them, trying to get them to communicate and even though it was frustrating, you didn’t want them to give up on their relationship easily and you couldn’t really take sides since they were both your friends.
“Shall we?” you asked and they nodded.
It took some warming up as always but soon you got into the groove, rehearsing for a small performance that was happening tonight.
You were excited because during the performance you planned to reveal your new song and see how people like it in person.
The only thorn in your eye was the fact that Hyunjin’s band will be there too, performing right after yours.
You were dreading to see him again, since that interview last week you had managed to avoid him skilfully, but you couldn’t hide forever.
And even though your rehearsal went somewhat smoothly, there was tension in the air and you didn’t like that feeling.
It felt like a storm was coming and you weren’t sure if you’re ready to take it on.
-
Evening came around quickly, everyone was already gathered backstage and you were dressed and ready, having rehearsed once more on the stage, tuning your guitars and getting ready for the most fun part.
You peered from the back, seeing all the people gathering made your heart swell, a smile spreading on your face automatically.
“Quite a turn out, huh?”
Your eye literally twitched when you heard Hyunjin’s voice behind you, too close for comfort as his figure loomed over you and you felt the warmth of his body on your back.
You turned your head slightly as he peered down at you with that annoying smirk you absolutely hate.
“Of course.” you said, squeezing your body between him and the curtain, ignoring him calling after you as you walked away as fast as you could.
You’re not gonna let him ruin tonight for you.
It was time to go on stage anyways.
You and your girls did a little cheer as tradition before the performance, Ana coming up to hug you and wish you good luck.
“Break a leg.” Hyunjin appeared out of nowhere and you only rolled your eyes before whipping around and almost smacking him with your hair as you made your way towards the stage.
As soon as you walked out, loud screams filled up your ears and everything negative was forgotten and locked away in a drawer in the back of your mind.
“Are you ready to rock tonight?!” you screamed out into the mic as the three of you took your positions.
Hyunjin watched you from the side with an unreadable look on his face, but you weren’t even aware of it and you didn’t care.
All you cared about was this moment.
The moment where you get to share your love for music with thousands of people.
It was exhilarating, watching the mass of bodies sway like one, hearing all the people singing the lyrics you wrote in unison.
Nothing could compare to this and every time you stood under that light, you knew you were born for this.
Giddy from everything, you skipped backstage once you finished playing the last song; which happened to be the new one and people more than loved it judging by their excited screams.
“That was amazing!” Ana met you halfway, giving high fives to all three of you.
You were still trying to catch your breath as you giggled, when Hyunjin appeared next to you again.
“Aren’t you gonna wish me good luck?” he smirked at you, shamelessly giving you the elevator eyes.
“Good luck guys!” Janey yelled at all four members with a smile and a thumbs up but Hyunjin shook his head.
“I want her to say it or I’m not going out on stage.” he crossed his arms on his chest, pouting and tapping his foot like a child about to throw a tantrum.
“Come on, Hyun, we need to get out there!” Aiden, the band’s bassist called out.
“Not moving until y/n wishes me good luck.” he quickly shook his head, his fluffy hair shaking with it and you thought how he resembled a dog; in more ways than one.
“Fine you spoiled brat. Good luck.” you said sarcastically and he scoffed.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he smirked, leaning into your personal space again.
“Get on the stage, Hyunjin.” you sighed and he chuckled in delight.
“Watch me closely.” he winked before running off.
“I can just cut the tension in the air with a knife.” Steph smirked at you, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Oh, fuck off!” you said, smacking the back of her head as she cackled.
You did end up watching Hyunjin’s band perform after refreshing yourself, but pretty soon you’ve come to regret that decision.
He was wild while performing, stripping out of his jacket as he screamed into the mic, sweating under the bright lights pointed directly at him making him look like an insane glazed donut as he strutted around the stage acting all smug even though he tripped over his dumb long legs multiple times.
He’d lean over towards his little groupies, holding their hand or caressing their faces, blowing them kisses and whatnot, all of that behavior making your gut churn in disgust.
The last straw was when he laid down on his back and started humping the air while moaning into the mic.
Even though the crowd screamed louder than before and the horny fans almost started hyperventilating, you felt second hand embarrassment at witnessing this.
Hyunjin continued moaning before he threw his head back, his eyes locking with yours.
A shiver ran down your spine as he smirked at you, all sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead, his piercings shining in the light, the veins on his neck visible and his cheeks red.
A warmness spread in your navel as he winked, licking at his lip slowly, taunting you before he moaned extra loudly, the pornographic sound echoing in your ears.
You frowned suddenly at your heart beating fast and your legs pressing together.
What the fuck is wrong with me?, you thought, quickly shaking your head as he finally looked away from you and stood up.
Of course, he got showered by multiple bras on stage, you think you even caught a glimpse of someone throwing their panties and you couldn’t watch anymore.
It was truly disgusting.
You quickly shoved past some staff members watching and gasping at whatever Hyunjin was doing now.
Pushing past everyone, you made your way outside to get some fresh air in the hidden area behind backstage, where staff and musicians usually smoked or chilled after a performance.
You greeted some of the staff before finding a spot where you could be alone.
You were about to relax when you heard kissing sounds and as you turned to look around the corner you saw Steph kissing some random girl.
You couldn’t contain the gasp that flew out of your mouth, making them jolt away from each other.
Steph’s eyes widened when she saw you and you quickly spun around, noticing Janey had just walked outside too and started looking around.
“Y/n, wait!” Steph yelled behind you. “It’s not what you think! Please, don’t tell Janey!” she looked at you desperately but you hated cheaters more than anything, seeing her betrayal with your own eyes broke any sort of connection you had with her.
“Isn’t it? Your tongue was down some girl’s throat. Now, what do you call that?” you scoffed.
“What?” Janey appeared next to you, just as the girl who Steph was kissing before stood behind her.
“It’s not like that, I-”
You could see Janey’s eyes filling up with tears.
“That’s it, I’m done. With you and with the band. With everything.” you gasped when she said that, your eyes wide.
“Janey, don’t be like that, it didn’t mean anything to me-” Steph started.
“Liar, you told me you’d leave her for me.” the girl behind Steph chimed in.
“Oh, so this has been going on for some time?” Janey looked between Steph and the girl.
“Let’s talk about this inside.” you tried to lead them in as people were whispering and looking at the four of you.
“I have nothing else to say. I’m sorry, y/n. I can’t be a part of this band anymore when all it’s gonna do is remind me of this cheating whore.” Janey spat before turning around and leaving.
“Okay, I deserve that but like I’m sorry that-”
“Save it, Steph. I can’t believe you did this. You put your desires over the well-being of our band. You do understand that your actions not only affect Janey, but also me, Ana and the rest of the record company?” you asked her, your blood boiling with anger.
“I- I’m sorry, let me make it right. I’ll talk to Janey and she’ll forgive me once she understands-”
“You think I want you to be part of the band after this? That’s rich.” you turned around too, in hopes of finding Janey.
“Y/n, you can’t throw me out of the band!” Steph yelled behind you.
“I just did.” you said coldly before opening the door and rushing into the backstage room.
“Is Janey here?” you asked Ana and before she could answer, someone bumped into you rather strongly, making you stumble backwards a little.
You turned around angrily, noticing a very sweaty and breathless Hyunjin staring at you with a smile, his tongue lolling out of his lips as he played with his piercing.
“So, did you like my performance?” he winked at you. “Did it get you excited?” the famous shit eating grin spread on his face as he leaned in closer to you, a few droplets of sweat dripping from his hair.
“I don’t have time for your games, Hyunjin. Please leave me alone.” you said annoyingly, noticing he had a bra hooked around his hand.
“What’s going on?” Ana asked, looking at you confusedly.
You were shaken up, the anger you felt manifesting into tears and you cursed yourself for being so emotional and quick to cry.
“Woah, you’re crying!” Hyunjin stepped even closer to you but you’ve had enough of him.
“Get away from me, asshole!” you channeled all your anger his way as you pressed your hands on his chest, pushing him away.
Hyunjin stumbled with a gasp, a shocked look on his face.
“What the hell is happening here?” Anthony quickly came to Hyunjin’s side as his bandmates watched everything unfold.
“Ana, can we talk in private?” you glared once more at Hyunjin and she quickly nodded, hooking her arm with yours and taking you away from the scene.
Hyunjin watched your figure disappear out of view with a deep frown on his face.
-
It’s been a dreadful week.
You’ve tried talking to Janey multiple times, begging her to come back, promising to her that you wouldn’t let Steph come anywhere near her.
Sadly, Janey was insistent on not wanting to continue with the band since lots of the songs were written by her and her now ex girlfriend who betrayed her in such an ugly way.
You talked to Ana almost every day on the phone but you weren’t up for any visits, choosing instead to wallow in your sadness.
Your band fell apart, your friends were no longer together, your album couldn’t be published and people were speculating, spreading rumors, you were getting numerous curious comments asking what happened to Venus Flytrap.
You had no idea what to do at that moment.
You just needed some time to yourself to figure out what your next step should be.
You were lounging in your bed when your phone buzzed for the hundredth time.
Rolling your eyes, you grabbed it and saw that you had a text message from an unknown number.
???: hey there pretty girl! don’t be so sad! there are worse things than your band falling apart.
you: what, like death? and who is this?
???: your favorite person in the whole world<3
you: hyunjin??
???: aw i knew i was your favorite!
You started seething immediately as you sat up, your heart beating fast instantly as you worked yourself up into annoyance.
You quickly put his contact under ‘asshole’.
you: no, i knew that a conceited answer like that can only come from an asshole like you.
you: now, what do you want?
asshole: did you save my contact as asshole? or dickhead? which one is it?
you: wouldn’t you like to know. seriously what the hell do you want. i’ll block you if you don’t get on with it
asshole: just wanted to see if you maybe want to talk to someone
you: if i did, i wouldn’t choose you. have a nice day away from me hyunjin
Hyunjin didn’t answer your last text, instead he left you on read and you tossed your phone across your bed, now feeling even more infuriated than before.
You squinted your eyes, grabbing your phone again and texting Ana.
you: did you give my number to hyunjin??
Ana: i’m sorry! he wouldn’t stop bugging me about it! pls don’t be mad
Just great.
Why is he insisting on annoying you even when you feel down in the dumps, you thought, he always has to come in and make you feel even more mad.
You were hoping that with your last text he’d finally leave you alone.
You also hoped you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon.
But boy, you couldn’t be more wrong.
-
“What?!” you yelled so loudly that it echoed off of the office walls.
“Y/n, please we don’t know any other solution. Lycoris Radiata is going to tour in 4 days and you’re the only person who knows their songs by heart. You can also kick ass with drums. And well, you’re kinda free now.” Anthony grimaced.
“You can’t do this to me. I can’t spend so much time with Hwang Hyunjin!” you whined like a child, kicking your legs under the table as Ana gave you an apologetic look.
“Gossiping about me?” Hyunjin strolled in, with that annoying smirk, his hair in a little ponytail, showing more of his ear piercings and his sharp jawline.
He took off his leather jacket, throwing it haphazardly on the chair before he plopped down into it.
He spun around in the chair to face you as you looked at him with a scowl on your face.
Brendon, his guitarist and Aiden joined the meeting right after that.
“So, ready to be my new drummer?” Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows at you.
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Y/n, please, we have no other choice! Phil had to leave so suddenly due to his sickness. We couldn’t be prepared for something like that. We can’t afford to postpone the tour now.” Brendon pleaded as Aiden nodded next to him.
You leaned back into the chair, pursing your lips as you gave it a thought.
Of course they’d choose you.
You knew their songs by heart since you shared so many tours together but you had your own bus and mostly ran into Hyunjin either backstage or at an afterparty but if you would become a part of his band you’d spend most of your time with him.
But this could be good for you to give yourself time to decide what you wanna do next while touring with Lycoris Radiata.
And since you were a multi instrumentalist, playing the drums wouldn’t be a problem for you.
You smirked suddenly before tilting your head at Hyunjin.
“Fine. I will tour with you under one condition.” you said.
“Anything!” Anthony piped in but you kept staring at Hyunjin.
“I want you to beg.” your smirk deepened and Hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly, his fingers twitching against his thighs.
“What?” he blinked repeatedly and you chuckled under your breath.
“Beg me to join your band or I’m not doing it.”
Hyunjin’s lips opened and closed a few times before he frowned.
“I don’t beg. I demand.” he smirked, taunting you.
“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re in no position to have demands. However, I am. So if I want you to beg, Hyunjin, you’re gonna beg.” you sat up straight as he looked at you in pure shock.
“My, my darling. I didn’t know you were this commanding. I kinda dig that.” he wiggled his eyebrows.
“Any day now.” you were ready to stand up and leave.
The room was eerily silent and Brendon opened his lips to speak up but Anthony grabbed his wrist and quickly shook his head.
You could see the gears turning in Hyunjin’s head as he stared at you, and slowly but surely his cheeks became red as he closed his eyes in frustration.
“Pretty please, join my band and come on tour with us?” he said, rather quickly and you tsked.
“Not convincing enough.” you enjoyed having the upper hand, the roles reversed as you pushed Hyunjin’s buttons.
“What do you want me to do?! Kneel at your feet?” he whined.
“Maybe.” you shrugged.
“Unbelievable! I’m the one doing you a favor anyways.” Hyunjin said, clearly annoyed and you were reveling in it.
You wanted him to get the taste of his own medicine.
“Is that so?” you raised your eyebrow as he breathed hard.
“Yes, your band is as good as dead right now, just like your career.” he said with a smug smirk, making everyone gasp.
“Hyunjin!” Aiden scolded him and you stood up, feeling your eyes water as you lifted your hand, your palm colliding with Hyunjin’s cheek.
The force of your slap turned his head right and he grabbed at his cheek immediately, his eyes wide, his face becoming red quickly.
“Fuck you!” you said angrily before turning around and leaving the room as tears started sliding down your cheeks.
“Now look at what you did!” Anthony was mad and Hyunjin shrugged with a frown, realizing quickly that maybe he did cross a line.
“How could you say something like that to y/n?” Brendon asked, and Hyunjin looked at them, feeling dejected suddenly as he rubbed at his cheek.
There was strength in your hands, that he was sure of.
“I fucked up, okay! I didn’t mean to say that.” he shook his head. “I will make this right.” Hyunjin added, standing up.
“Dude, I think you’re the last person y/n wants to see right now.” Aiden said.
“But I have to apologize to her.” Hyunjin chewed on his lip, playing with his piercing as a nervous habit.
“I’ll go with you then.” Aiden nodded, standing up as well.
“Fine.” Hyunjin sighed.
You sat in the swinging chair on one of the many balconies of the building, letting your tears slip down your cheeks as the wind picked up, making you shiver.
Hyunjin and Aiden found you pretty quickly and before Aiden could follow him to the balcony, Hyunjin smacked his hand on Aiden’s chest.
“Please, just wait here.”
“Fine, but if you provoke her again, I’m coming in.” Aiden sighed, shaking his head.
The door of the balcony opened and in the corner of your eye you saw Hyunjin’s combat boots and his leather pants.
“Go away.” you said quietly, sniffling and turning away from him.
Hyunjin stood frozen for a moment, holding his jacket in his hand and you took that time to quickly wipe away your tears.
You didn’t want to look weak in front of your enemy.
Footsteps approached and suddenly you felt a weight on your shoulders and back.
You looked down, realizing that Hyunjin had put his jacket around you and it smelled like cigarettes mixed with cologne he always wears and something distinctly him.
You took a deep breath and for some reason, calmness settled all over your body.
“I’m really sorry for what I said back there. It was way out of line.”
You didn’t say anything, still refusing to look at him.
“And I’m sorry about your band. I know that must be hard to go through. I feel bad that my drummer had to leave, I don’t know how I’d feel if-”
“Are you done?” you turned to look at him and his lips pressed together.
“I don’t care how you feel, Hyunjin. Just like you didn’t care about hurting me moments ago.” you stood up, ready to throw his jacket away.
“Well, I apologized!” he threw his hands up, rolling his eyes. “Though, I’m glad I have that effect on you, I didn’t know you cared so much about what I think or say.” he smirked suddenly.
You were tempted to slap his other cheek at that moment, and Aiden must’ve sensed it so he walked out to the balcony.
“Are we okay?” he asked, gulping.
“Not until he apologizes properly.” you crossed your arms with a smirk, and he knew exactly what you meant.
“Ugh! This is the first and last time I get on my knees for you.” Hyunjin said annoyingly as he kneeled down and you chuckled in delight.
“I’m sorry for being an asshole and if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d be honored for you to join my band.” he batted his eyelashes at you.
“Mm…” you pursed your lips, acting like you were contemplating it as he rolled his eyes again.
“Fine. I accept.” you shrugged and Hyunjin stood up quickly with a smile.
“Welcome to the band, sweetheart!” he smirked, opening his arms for a hug and you quickly dodged under his arm and slithered away.
“You’re welcome.” you smirked back, grabbing his jacket and throwing it at him.
He caught it just as you walked back into the hallway, grinning to himself as you walked away.
“She wants me so bad.” Hyunjin said as Aiden’s eyebrows lifted comically.
“I think she wants to kill you.” he said and Hyunjin chuckled, smacking Aiden’s shoulder and grabbing him.
“I know what chicks like, okay?”
“You also know that y/n isn’t one of your little groupies?” Aiden sighed.
“I know, don’t worry. She’s special.” Hyunjin smiled, hugging his jacket to his chest, getting a whiff of your perfume that stayed on it.
Aiden shook his head with a chuckle.
This is gonna be one hell of a tour.
-
The party was in full swing.
That morning you had packed for the tour, your stomach swirling with nerves so much that you thought you’d throw up.
You were actually going on tour with Lycoris Radiata, for at least six months.
A lot can happen in that amount of time and while you were nervous to spend so much time with the infuriating and annoying asshole aka Hwang Hyunjin, you were also excited for the new experience and the places you’ll get to see.
Of course, you couldn’t leave without attending a ‘have an amazing tour’ party that was mostly exclusive only for staff and a few other people.
You were on your second glass of beer as you sat at the bar, the cold bitter liquid not calming you down as it should.
Hyunjin was having a jolly old time, entertaining some girls of course and if you had rolled your eyes any harder, they’d get stuck in the back of your head.
“Don’t take that to heart.” Aiden suddenly appeared next to you.
“What?” you chuckled awkwardly, shaking away your thoughts.
“Hyunjin flirting like that. He’s a lot of talk, more than anything else.”
“Why would I care if he flirts with some random girls?” you frowned. “It’s none of my business.”
“Right.” Aiden pursed his lips. “Well, I’m gonna go find Anthony.”
“Sure.” you shrugged, your eyes flying back to Hyunjin and the girls who were salivating all over him.
He was showing them his biceps and they were touching him like they’ve never seen a human arm in their life.
You scoffed, shaking your head when a voice behind you startled you.
“Now, why is a pretty lady such as yourself sitting all alone?”
You turned around with your eyebrow lifted, coming face to face with a stranger.
“Because it’s her choice.” you answered.
“Oh, feisty and pretty? That’s a fun combo.” the guy smirked, his arm leaning on your chair, almost hugging your waist as he got closer to you.
Your nose scrunched up, he smelled of alcohol and you really wanted him to leave you alone.
“I’m pretty boring, trust me.” you said.
“Oh, I don’t believe that. In fact, I think if you were to let me take you home tonight, you and I could have so much fun.” he smirked and you were pretty sure you barfed in your mouth a little.
“No, thank you.” you said sarcastically.
He chuckled, placing his arms around you.
You were completely unaware of Hyunjin who was keeping an eye on you and the suspicious guy.
As soon as the man placed his hands on you, Hyunjin pushed the girl he was talking to aside, his heavy combat boots taking him right to you and the disturbance in your personal space.
“I don’t really take no for an answer.” he said and your heart sank momentarily.
“Back off man!” you tried to push him away but he wasn’t budging.
Suddenly the guy was ripped away from you with such force that it pulled you to your feet.
You grabbed at the bar to steady yourself and gasped just in time to see Hyunjin swinging his fist at the man.
“Oh my god!” you almost screamed, your eyes wide as the guy fell to the floor instantly.
People quickly gathered around and Anthony was trying to push them away so he could grab Hyunjin.
“The lady said no, you fucking dirtbag!” Hyunjin said, swinging at the man again.
“Oh my god, Hyunjin! Stop, it’s okay, please!” you panicked, never seeing him this angry or violent.
“Hwang! Enough!” Anthony yelled, grabbing Hyunjin’s arms and lifting him up as he fought against his manager, still trying to punch the man who was now laying on the floor with his face completely bloody.
You kept looking at Hyunjin with a shocked expression as he breathed hard, his face red and sweaty from anger, the veins on his neck and forehead popping out.
“I stopped, now let me go.” he said through his teeth as someone lifted up the unconscious guy.
“Hyunjin, if this gets out to the press it could turn into a fucking shitstorm! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Anthony yelled angrily as Hyunjin stood with his fists still clenched.
“He made y/n uncomfortable and he deserved it.” Hyunjin answered before turning towards you.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes softening as you stared at him in disbelief.
“I-I’m fine.”
“Good. I’m done with this party.” Hyunjin said, turning on his heel and grabbing his jacket before he walked out, leaving you standing there still trying to process what the hell just happened.
-
You were half asleep when Ana drove you to the tour bus.
You barely slept last night, tossing and turning in your bed as the images of Hyunjin punching that guy from the party kept swimming in your head.
Never has a man defended you like that and you’ve never seen Hyunjin look so livid before.
He was usually either smirking, laughing or being a menace, ready to always annoy you but you’ve never seen him actually angry.
It was kind of… hot, you thought before shaking it off.
You wondered why he reacted like that.
“You okay?” Ana snapped you out of your vegetative state as you sank in the passenger seat, arms crossed and hood over your head.
“Hm? Yeah, just sleepy.” you sat up and looked around.
The sun wasn’t even up yet.
“You can continue sleeping on the tour bus. We’re here.” she chuckled.
“Oh, goody.” you sighed before opening the door and walking out.
“Morning, ladies.” Anthony all but ran up to Ana, helping her with yours and her bags since she’d be joining you too.
“Morning? It’s still night.” you checked your phone, seeing it was 4:13am.
“Not where I come from. You see-” Anthony started.
“Okay, I’m too asleep to listen to this.” you shook your head before strolling towards the bus.
You were about to just climb in and go straight to the nearest bed you could find but you heard some quiet music coming from behind the back of the bus.
You approached slowly and peeked around to see Hyunjin leaning on the wall, smoking and listening to some quiet music.
He looked up instantly, seeming like a deer caught in headlights for a short moment.
“Remembered to put on a jacket?” he smirked.
“Ha ha. Very funny.” you said and he shrugged, looking away and turning the music off.
As he brought his cigarette to his lips, you noticed his knuckles were red and injured.
“I guess I should thank you for last night.” you said quietly, swinging on your feet awkwardly as you dug your hands in your pockets.
“It was nothing.” he shook his head quickly.
“I wouldn’t call that nothing.” you motioned to his hand.
“This?” he looked at his hand and chuckled. “You should see the other guy.” he winked at you, making you roll your eyes.
“Clever.”
“Come to think of it, it does hurt a bit. Wanna kiss it better?” Hyunjin smirked, puffing the smoke out.
“Bite me.” you gave him the middle finger as he laughed, the sound ringing out in the quiet early hours.
“I might. If you ask nicely.” he said with that smug expression of his.
“I’m going inside.” you shivered, realizing how cold it actually was, ignoring his witty quips.
“I’m right behind ya.” he threw his cigarette on the floor before stepping on it.
Your heart started beating fast out of nowhere as his heavy boots stomped behind you, the sound escorting you to the entrance of the bus.
“Oh wow.” your eyes widened as you looked around the living/kitchen area.
“You like?” Hyunjin leaned over your shoulder and you jolted away from him, making him snicker.
“Yeah, it’s… not what I expected. It looks more cozy than I thought it would.” you nodded.
“You should thank the interior designer.” he wiggled his eyebrows.
“And who might that be?” you asked, making your way to the bunk bed area.
“Oh, just a guy. He takes payment in kisses.” Hyunjin bumped into you as you stopped.
“Is that guy maybe you?” you turned around, not realizing immediately just how close Hyunjin was to you.
“Maybe it is.” he leaned towards you with a smirk and you squealed a little, stepping away from him.
“Give it up. I’m taking the top bunk bed.” you pointed to the left side.
“Not fair! I always take that one!” Hyunjin pouted.
“Tough luck, I called it first.” you smirked, taking off your jacket and throwing it up on the bed.
“Or… we can both sleep up there?” Hyunjin said and you scoffed, pushing him away.
“Like hell!”
“Are y’all fighting this early?” Brendon came in, looking confused and disheveled.
“No, it’s foreplay.” Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows and you made gagging noises.
“Here’s your bag, y/n.” Ana appeared with your luggage.
Aiden and Anthony came in after and everyone took some time to unpack and get settled.
“I heard we have two pretty ladies with us, so you fellas gotta behave now.” you heard an unknown voice and leaned over to see who it belonged to.
“Oh, we always behave, Stu.” Hyunjin smirked.
“Yes, especially you.” the man, Stu, rolled his eyes.
“This is our main driver Stu.” Aiden introduced you and Ana to him.
“Pleasure to meet you ladies. Hopefully the road won’t be too bumpy.” he winked before turning around and leaving.
“Where is Bradley?” Anthony piped in suddenly.
“Who’s Bradley?” you asked, at this moment you just wanted to get everything over with and catch up on some sleep.
“Our sound guy.” Brendon answered. “And lights guy. He is underpaid and overworked, basically.” he added, giving Anthony a pointed look.
“Hey, it’s not my fault Mike quit!” he lifted his hands up. “Besides, we’re picking someone up in the next town over. He’ll be our roadie along with Bradley.”
As they started discussing, you slipped away to the bathroom, where you could change in peace and get ready for bed.
You leaned on the counter, staring at yourself in the mirror as you listened to the muffled voices talking.
Were you doing the right thing?
Accepting to join another band when your heart still hurts from the sudden falling apart between your friends and band members…
“Y/n, I need the bathroom!” Hyunjin’s voice brought you back to reality and you stood up straight.
“I’m not done yet!” you yelled back. “You have another bathroom!” you added annoyingly, preparing to brush your teeth.
“Aiden hogged it. Are you naked or something? Cause I swear I don’t mind.”
You could just hear the smirk in his voice.
Rolling your eyes, you opened the door and Hyunjin gave you the elevator eyes and they lingered on your legs in the shorts you put on, going up to your chest and lingering again before he looked up at your face.
He was playing with his lip ring again, his cheeks rosy.
“What do you want?” you spat.
“Just wanna brush my teeth.” he looked at you smugly.
You didn’t say anything, just stepped aside and continued brushing your teeth.
You opted to leave the door opened since it felt awkward to have them closed.
“Isn’t this fun, us brushing our teeth together? It’s kinda domestic, don’t you think?” Hyunjin said suddenly, the familiar smirk on his face.
“Yes, thrilling.” you answered sarcastically. “You don’t have to act nice, Hyunjin. Everyone knows we hate each other so let’s just not talk too much and try to coexist peacefully for the sake of everyone else on this tour.”
Hyunjin opened his mouth to answer but you quickly turned around and left, not wanting to get into it with him when you were tired and nervous.
He smirked to himself, shaking his head.
The only thing stuck in his brain at that moment was the way you said his name.
God, he loved it.
-
You slept for a few hours only, waking up early yet again as the bus rolled to a stop at a diner.
“Rise and shine, princess.” Hyunjin’s head popped up in front of you as he held onto your bed.
“Fuck off.” you grabbed your pillow and smacked him with it, almost making him fall down but he managed to land on his feet.
You heard a smack and Hyunjin saying ‘ow’ quietly before Aiden said,
“Come down if you’re hungry.”
You chuckled to yourself, waiting for them to leave so you could get ready.
Of course, as soon as you sat down in a booth, Hyunjin pushed Brendon aside and quickly slid next to you.
“Oh my god.” you rolled your eyes.
You were squished between him and Ana on your other side, and he was too close for comfort.
You could feel the heat of his body and smell the scent of his shampoo and body wash mixed with cigarettes.
You tried to ignore the feelings stirring in your gut as you ordered.
“So, how did you like sleeping on top of me?” Hyunjin smirked, tilting his head.
“Not as much as you liked sleeping under me, weirdo.” you scoffed at him and he chuckled.
“I liked it very much, so that must mean you liked it at least a little.” he said as the food arrived and your stomach growled.
“Whatever you say.” you brushed him off and started to dig in.
“We’re close to our first destination.” Anthony started after a sip of coffee. “We will arrive around 4pm and have lunch, then we get ready and do the soundcheck. Questions?”
Everyone shook their heads no.
You suddenly felt nervous tingles running up your spine, and for some reason Hyunjin felt it.
“Don’t worry princess, you’ll do great.” he smirked, placing his hand on top of your wrist.
You snatched your hand away and looked at him.
“I know I will, I was just wondering if you’ll be able to keep up with me.” you smirked back at him.
“You’ll be surprised at how well I can keep up, baby.” Hyunjin leaned into your personal space, his eyes boring into yours and you felt your cheeks burning.
“Be nice, you two.” Ana chuckled.
“What? I haven't called him an asshole yet. Emphasis on yet.”
Hyunjin laughed next to you, his arm brushing against yours.
Oh, he is so going to enjoy this.
-
It was such a good, familiar feeling to sit behind a drum kit after being the main vocalist and guitarist of your band for so long.
The venue was empty at this moment and the sound of the drums echoing in the space was grand.
You closed your eyes and started playing a groove to get into the mood and Hyunjin was lured towards the stage instantly.
He watched you in awe even though he saw you play the drums before, they never had the name of his band on the front of them.
Hyunjin felt proud; that his band has come so far and honored that you were now a part of their story.
He hoped you’d enjoy the tour and judging by the blissful look on your face, you were off to a good start.
“Let’s go, Hyun.” Brendon smacked his shoulder, pulling him back to reality.
It was time for the soundcheck, and when everyone was finally on stage, tuning their instruments, you realized that this is real.
Excitement replaced any nerves you had and you were ready to tear the stage apart.
“Let’s jam a little.” Aiden smiled as everyone agreed.
He started to play a melody on his bass so you followed him with the drums.
You were so focused on grooving that you didn’t notice Hyunjin winking at his two other band members.
When it was time for him to start playing his guitar, Hyunjin decided to play totally out of tune.
You looked up at him with your brows furrowed as you tried to follow him.
He changed it up suddenly, that familiar shit eating grin spreading on his face as you followed him yet again.
Brendon and Aiden stopped playing as they observed the two of you, battling it out with your instruments.
Hyunjin was trying hard to get on your nerves, push your buttons but you weren’t gonna let him in.
“Having some trouble following, princess?” he yelled over the noise.
You looked at him pointedly as he started to play another melody that made no sense and you’ve had enough.
Hyunjin had a way of getting under your skin and he obviously knew that.
Your arm lifted up on its own accord and you swung one of your drumsticks right at Hyunjin, aiming for his empty head.
His eyes widened and he managed to dodge it in a close second as the drumstick clattered on the floor.
“Ha! Attempted murder! Y’all saw that!” he pointed at you, while looking at his friends and you started laughing.
“Don’t worry, even if it did hit your head, it couldn’t damage it more than it already is.” you smirked as Hyunjin huffed.
“Oh baby, keep talking. Degradation is my thing.” he motioned towards his ear with his fingers and you made a disgusted face at him.
Of course, the asshole laughed at your expression.
“Guys, can we actually practice?” Brendon chimed in as Aiden nodded.
Instead of answering verbally, you started playing so everyone joined in.
-
“Are you nervous?” Aiden asked as the venue filled up and it all became real.
“Nope, I’m ecstatic!” you answered, twirling your drumstick in your hand.
“Trying to murder me once again?” Hyunjin appeared next to you as you almost hit him with it.
“Trust me, if I was trying to kill you, you’d already be dead.”
“Nobody’s killing anyone, we’re already short on staff.” Anthony smirked before putting his arms around Hyunjin and Brendon’s shoulders.
“Good luck guys! And y/n, of course. I know y’all will do great.” Anthony smiled.
Ana came up to you to hug you.
“Good luck, babe!” she smiled.
“Thank you.” you gave her a bone crushing hug, she was always like a sister to you and having her here now meant a lot to you.
As soon as you walked out on stage, the screams of all the people that came to see you perform were deafening but heartwarming.
Hyunjin was the main character on stage, that you were convinced of as whatever he did resulted in even louder screaming.
You didn’t mind being the backbone of the band, playing drums to you was a meditative and transcending experience and anything you were angry or upset about, you could take it out while playing.
Performing with Lycoris Radiata was fun as fuck, even more than you hoped for; seeing Hyunjin up close made you realize just why people loved him so much.
He was charismatic, cool and lame at the same time, ethereally beautiful and down to earth, fun but sensitive, alluring but cute, he gave his all and more.
He was everything wrapped up in one and you wondered how that was possible.
A particular moment struck you; when you were playing a slower song, Hyunjin sang so delicately, his back turned to you as the lights beamed down on his frame, his sweaty hair and skin making him look like he was glowing.
Your heart skipped a beat but you ignored it.
Near the end of the show, Hyunjin did his usual routine which consisted of making everyone’s panties wet; it was time for the sex song he always sang near the end which made you feel embarrassed and uncomfortable but something about being on stage with them got you in the right mood for it.
The part came up; and Hyunjin was on the floor, moaning and humping the air as you followed his moans with the heavy sound of your drums.
Hyunjin smirked, throwing his head back to look at you as he continued his ministrations and you continued following him on the drums.
Aiden and Brendon joined in as Hyunjin became louder, resulting in you hitting the drums harder as the sounds all came together in a crescendo.
You wished that you could press your thighs together to create pressure and friction because the whole thing managed to get you wet too.
A part of you felt ashamed but you didn’t give a flying fuck in that moment, completely letting go of everything as the four of you continued jamming together.
Hyunjin stood up with the biggest smile on his face, winking at you as he ran a lap around the stage before literally diving into the audience.
You gasped to yourself but continued playing the outro to the performance while Hyunjin was being groped by horny fanboys and fangirls.
Security was there to pull him back up on stage safely and Hyunjin sang the end of the song before screaming a ‘thank you’ into the mic.
After all four of you bowed a hundred times, you finally ran backstage where a very sweaty Hyunjin started hugging everyone, eventually coming up to you.
“Don’t even think about it.” you said as he opened his arms.
“Not thinking, just doing it.” he smirked and before you could run away, his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you into his body.
“Ew!” you squirmed against him and he chuckled.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” he held you tighter and your heart leaped out of your chest.
The bastard smelled so good even after sweating so much and it annoyed you how seemingly perfect he was.
“What, a gross sweaty man slobbering all over me?” you scrunched up your face as you finally pushed him away.
“I wasn’t slobbering but if you’re into that-”
“Please shut up while I’m still in a good mood.” you stopped him and he laughed.
“It’s so fun messing with you, darling.” Hyunjin ruffled your hair as you practically hissed at him, making him laugh again.
“You guys were fucking amazing!” Anthony yelled excitedly.
“I don’t know about you but I need some food.” Aiden piped in.
“I’m feeling thirsty, honestly.” Brendon added.
“Are we partying or what?” Hyunjin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Hell yeah, we are!” Anthony high-fived him.
You ended up having the afterparty in the bus, ordering some food and acquiring some beer as you sat around in the living space.
Of course, as soon as you walked in, you ran for the shower, with Hyunjin cascading behind you and asking if he could join you because “it’ll be done faster”.
“Dream about it, asshole!” you yelled before closing the bathroom door.
“Oh, I do.” Hyunjin smirked to himself, but you didn’t hear him.
The excitement of the performance slowly washed away from your body along with Hyunjin���s scent that lingered after he hugged you, and you felt happy and cozy.
All of you finally settled down to eat and Hyunjin claimed the spot next to you, of course, his long slender fingers stealing your fries constantly.
“Will you back off! You have your own fries.” you slapped his arm as he whined.
“Yours are tastier.” he claimed with that familiar smirk of his.
“Are they now?” you smirked back.
“Mhm.” he nodded pointedly.
“Let’s see then.” you grabbed your box and dumped all your fries into his box before mixing them up. “Pick one up and distinguish if it’s from your box or mine.”
Hyunjin stared at you with his lips parted before he smiled.
“Aw, we’re sharing.” he said and continued eating as you heard some chuckles around the table.
“For fucks sake.” you muttered, shaking your head.
The rest of the night was full of chatter and laughter, and you didn’t mind Hyunjin’s arm or leg brushing against you ever so often, or his loud laughter ringing in your ears or him constantly poking at you.
It’s barely been one day on tour and he wasn’t as unbearable as you thought he’d be.
Everyone was tired and you had to hit the road so it was finally peaceful, before a loud scream startled everyone.
“Oh no, I am going to die!” Hyunjin wailed dramatically.
“What’s wrong with him?” you rolled your eyes as Aiden came in.
“He lost his teddy bear.”
“He what?” you chuckled in disbelief.
“Hyunjin’s teddy, he always takes it with him. He’s had it since he was a baby and he’s convinced it brings him luck.” Aiden shrugged and Hyunjin ran into the living area.
“We are doomed!” he said, grabbing your arms and shaking you.
“Calm down, it must be around here somewhere.” you sighed.
“Help me look?” Hyunjin batted his eyelashes at you as Aiden slipped away.
“Hyunjin, I’m tired, I need to get some sleep.” you whined.
“Me too! But I can’t sleep without my teddy.” he said, you couldn’t believe he was serious. “I will crawl up to your bunk and annoy you all night if you don’t help me look.” he added, smirking.
“Fine, I’ll help you.” you rolled your eyes.
“Wow, you don’t want me in your bed at all?” he kept smirking.
“Zip it. Let’s find your precious teddy.”
“Yes!” Hyunjin scurried after you as the two of you basically did a search and rescue mission for his favorite plush.
Eventually, you walked into the other bathroom, finding the old teddy sitting on the counter.
“There you are.” you picked up, chuckling at the state of it.
You couldn’t help it as you sniffed the teddy and sure enough it smelled just like its owner.
“Found it!” you yelled and Hyunjin bursted in, panting and smiling.
“Oh my god!” he exclaimed, grabbing the teddy and then you as he enveloped you in a hug for the second time that night.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Hyunjin held you tightly and you chuckled.
“Alright, you’re thankful, I get it. You can let go now.” you said, patting his back.
“I owe you.” he muttered.
“I really didn’t do anything.”
“You did, trust me.” he smiled.
As you laid in your bunk bed that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about Hyunjin.
He seemed somehow different or you were just now seeing different sides of him that you didn’t see before.
You didn’t hate him completely.
-
Ten days on tour and things were going great.
Every show was better than the last one, every venue bigger than the last one, every note played made Lycoris Radiata mean more and more to you.
Tonight was no exception as you ripped the stage once again, this time Hyunjin ended up lifting Aiden and spinning him at the end which almost made the poor man throw up from excitement.
“This was Lycoris Radiata, see you next time!” and with that you ran backstage where Hyunjin had to hug everyone, even asking for a group hug.
You had to humor him.
When your head finally hit the pillow, you couldn’t sleep even though you were exhausted.
You kept replaying one particular moment from the show in your head.
It was while Hyunjin was singing his famous sex song, before the moaning part, he came up to you and sang while looking at you.
You kept playing and looking at him intently as he sang the lewd lyrics right into your face.
Before he took off, Hyunjin lifted his hand, making a V shape with his fingers, doing the licking motion between them, his tongue piercing shining in the big stage light.
Your mouth fell agape for a moment as you felt hotness spread all over your body and he smirked smugly when you made a tiny mistake in your playing.
People didn’t notice but he did.
And he was satisfied with it.
You couldn’t stop thinking about it, and it had been a while since you’ve had a little ‘you time’ but it was hard to do that with so many people in the bus.
Your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed, hearing some shuffling beneath you.
“Y/n?” Hyunjin suddenly climbed up into your bed, startling you as you sat up and turned on the little light inside.
“W-what are you doing?”
“I can’t sleep. And I figured you weren’t sleeping either.” Hyunjin whispered.
“And how did you figure that?” you clutched your blanket.
“You sighed like a hundred times.” he chuckled quietly.
“What do you want?” you rolled your eyes with a smile.
“To hang out.” he pulled out a deck of cards out of nowhere.
“We can’t make too much noise, we’ll wake everyone up.” you shook your head.
“Fine then we’ll do something quiet.” Hyunjin smirked, tossing the cards aside and laying down next to you, his eyes closing.
“Turn the light off, sweetheart.” he cracked one eye open as you stared at him in disbelief.
“You are not sleeping in my bunk. Go back downstairs.” you whispered.
“No.” he answered simply.
“Hyunjin, I’m warning you, I will push you down.”
“Will you? You’ll wake up the whole bus.” he smirked.
“God, you’re so annoying!” you whisper-yelled, giving up as you laid down, turning away from Hyunjin.
“Be nice and share your blanket.” Hyunjin’s breath hit the back of your neck, making you shiver as goosebumps rose on your skin.
“Need anything else?” you muttered as he hogged your blanket and your personal space.
“A goodnight kiss?” Hyunjin leaned over you, peering at your face hopefully.
You gave him the side eye and he chuckled.
“Maybe some other time, hm?” he asked.
“Go to sleep.” you said and he laid down behind you.
“Goodnight, darling.” Hyunjin wanted to reach out and touch your hair but he figured you’d probably break his arm.
You didn’t answer, your heart beating so hard that you were afraid it was shaking the bed and Hyunjin could feel it.
You quickly turned off the light and tried to calm down.
There was enough space to where he wasn’t touching you but you felt his warmth, his scent, his breath on your skin.
It was driving you crazy and making you feel calm at the same time.
You managed to fall asleep somehow.
-
At some point, in the middle of the night, Hyunjin and you gravitated closer to each other and you ended up in his arms.
When you slowly blinked your eyes open and realized you were staring straight at Hyunjin’s chest, you jolted away from him, making him groan quietly.
“Where you goin’?” he mumbled into your pillow, trying to grab you.
“As far as I can from you.” you said, wiggling out of his arm that eventually caught you as he groaned again.
“Something’s poking my ass.” Hyunjin gasped when he rolled over and you laughed.
“It’s the cards, you idiot.” rolling your eyes, you left the bunk feeling embarrassed and insane as your face heated up.
What are you doing, sleeping in the same bed as Hyunjin?
You hate him, right?
You weren’t so sure anymore.
Yes, he was annoying but somehow that became kind of endearing.
He has bugged you every single day since the tour started and if he suddenly stopped, it’d feel weird.
You sighed, shaking off your thoughts as you grabbed your phone, munching on your breakfast.
“Morning, y/n. Tell me am I crazy or did Hyunjin sleep over in your bunk?” Ana smirked at you as she brought two coffees.
“You are crazy. But yes, he slept in my bunk.” you said.
“Interesting.” she smirked, lifting one eyebrow up.
“Hey, I saw you sleeping in Anthony’s bunk multiple times. What’s that about?” you teased as you opened up your insta.
“Well, everyone knows we have a thing for each other. You and Hyunjin though… oh yeah, you have a thing too.”
“We don’t have a thing.” you quickly said as Ana chuckled.
“Right. Mhm.”
You continued scrolling, and that’s when you noticed it; the hate comments on your posts.
‘She’s just a slut who’s after Hyunjin’
‘She’s delusional if she thinks he’d like her like she’s ugly lmao’
‘Untalented bitch’
‘Get her away from my Hyunjin’
‘She deserved her band falling apart they were shit anyways’
‘Y/n should retire from the music scene’
Your eyes started stinging with tears as you skimmed through the comment section.
“What’s wrong?” Ana tilted her head to look at you.
You slid your phone to her and she gasped.
“You know these people are probably some jealous, unsuccessful suckers.” she said.
“I need some air.” you sucked in a breath before hurriedly leaving the bus.
“What’s with her?” Hyunjin walked in. “Is she mad at me?”
“No, look.” Ana showed him your phone.
Hyunjin frowned instantly, running out of the bus after you.
You stood not too far away with a cigarette in your hand as you hugged yourself with your other arm and Hyunjin’s eyes softened when he saw you shivering in the wind.
“I knew you’d forget to bring a jacket.” Hyunjin put his leather jacket around you, smoothing his hand over your back a few times.
You exhaled a puff of smoke, not answering him as you melted into his big jacket.
Hyunjin took out a cigarette for himself and you reached out with your lighter, lighting it up as he smirked.
“Since when do you smoke?” he asked.
“Well, I’m feeling extra stressed right now so I needed something to take the edge off.” you shrugged.
“Because of the comments?”
“I don’t wanna talk about them.”
“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin sighed.
“It’s not your fault.” you said.
“I feel like it is.”
Hyunjin was standing so close to you that his arm was touching yours while both of you continued smoking.
You stood silently next to each other for a few more moments as the clouds passed you by, and slowly but surely Hyunjin closed the gap between your hands as he touched yours briefly before he wrapped his pinky around yours.
“Hey, you know I’m honored you’re part of my band.” his tone was serious and you couldn’t bear to look at him or you’d burst into tears.
“I know.” you smiled as you kept looking into the distance.
He smiled too, his eyes focused on you.
Hyunjin had your back; and that was a pinky promise.
-
Finally, you arrived to your next destination, and you’d be there for a few days which meant you had to check into a hotel.
You were glad to have some time to yourself, you needed a real shower and a real bed and just some time to get away from everything, recharge your batteries.
You just finished with your shower and skincare when your phone annoyed you, buzzing with texts constantly.
When you grabbed it you realized that you forgot to change Hyunjin’s name from ‘asshole’.
You laughed to yourself, deciding to just add a little heart at the end.
asshole<3: y/n what are you doing
asshole<3: why aren’t you answering
asshole<3: i’m BOREEEED
asshole<3: y/n!!!!
asshole<3: princess?
asshole<3: i’m coming to your room
“Shit!” you exclaimed just in time when Hyunjin knocked on your door.
“Go away, Hyunjin!” you yelled on the other side.
“Never! I will wake the whole damn floor if you don’t open this door.” he banged against it.
“Spoiled brat.” you muttered to yourself before opening the door.
“Oh.” Hyunjin looked you up and down, your hair still wet from the shower, your little nightgown accentuating all your goodies.
“Did you dress up for me?” he smirked as his tongue darted out to play with his lip piercing; a habit you picked up on.
“Oh yeah, I was just waiting for you to come knocking on my door.” you answered sarcastically.
“Oh come on, I brought snacks.” he lifted up a few bags.
“You should’ve said that first.” you stepped aside, letting him in.
“So, are you here just because you’re bored?” you scoffed as he practically skipped to your bed before throwing himself on it.
“No, I’m here cause I know you miss me.” he smirked at you. “I spared you the walk to my room, princess.”
“Oh yeah, I am the one who missed you.” you said pointedly.
“I know you are.” he wiggled his eyebrows and you groaned, throwing a pillow at him but the slick bastard caught it.
“I’m gonna change into something else.” you said, feeling a bit self-conscious.
“Into what? After that outfit, the only logical thing is to have nothing on.”
“Wouldn’t you like that?” you snickered.
“I would.” he smirked.
“Changing right now!” you left for the bathroom to put on some actual pjs.
“Don’t cross this line, Hyunjin.” you pointed as the two of you settled in your bed, ready to watch a movie and snack.
He smiled his shit eating grin and put his finger over the line.
“Whoops, crossed it.”
“Next time you lose a finger.” you threatened.
“Where is it gonna be misplaced?” he smirked.
“Not where you think.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” he leaned closer to you. “But I can show you.”
“No thanks. Just watch the movie.”
It was quiet for some time until Hyunjin spoke up.
“I’m thinking of getting another tattoo.”
“Oh?” you didn’t take your eyes off the screen. “Where?”
“My back. I wanna finish what I started with my arm and shoulder.” he answered.
“Which is?” you looked at him and he smirked.
“Glad you asked.” he said, taking his shirt off.
“Woah, woah, what are you doing?” you jolted as he tossed it aside.
“Showing you my tattoos.” he giggled. “See, it’s one big picture. I sketched the original on my paper, it’s a flower’s life story. From a little seed all the way to the dust it becomes after it wilts forever. It’s not finished yet though.” he turned and you gulped.
“That’s a beautiful thought actually.”
“Feel the flowers.” Hyunjin turned his shoulder to you.
“I’m not gonna touch your tattoos.” you said.
“Come on, you know you want to.” he taunted you.
“No, I don’t.” you shook your head.
“Yes, you do. You started ogling me as soon as I took my shirt off.”
“That’s because of your musc- nothing, nevermind.” you quickly caught yourself, biting your tongue as your face started burning.
“Because of what? My muscles? You like them?” he started flexing immediately.
“That’s disgusting, stop acting like that.” you slapped his arm without thinking and you both froze.
“Oh.” Hyunjin smirked before taking your hand in his. “Really, I want you to feel my tattoos.”
“Fine if it gets you to shut up.”
Your fingers gently traced the delicate art on Hyunjin’s skin, starting from his wrist up his arm as you watched goosebumps rise on his skin.
You took your time to trace every leaf and petal as Hyunjin looked at you intently, his breaths coming out shaky as you traced over his arm, your fingers swirling with the intricate patterns.
Your hand came up to his shoulder as you continued tracing, his skin was so smooth and he was so warm under your touch.
“Y/n.” Hyunjin whispered, his hand covering yours as he leaned in closer to you, his eyelids hooded.
Your eyes widened when you realized he was about to kiss you and you quickly moved away.
“What the hell are you doing?!” you stood up and Hyunjin frowned at you.
“What does it look like I’m doing?!”
“Trying to get into my pants!” you scoffed. “I think you should sleep in your room.”
“B-but, it’s not like that!” Hyunjin stood up and you backed away.
“I know what it’s like. Please leave.”
“Fine.” Hyunjin looked dejected as he grabbed his phone and shirt. “Teddy is lonely without me anyways.” he said, making a theatrical leave out of your room as he dragged his feet and kept giving you pointed looks.
You were almost close to telling him he can stay, but as soon as he leaned in, you panicked and didn’t know how to react so you kept your mouth shut.
And you continued spiralling when he left, thinking about if he actually likes you or just wants to fuck you like he does to any girl.
You’ve seen him with girls on his arms constantly and while you always thought what you felt was hate or disgust; in this moment you recognized it was jealousy and it didn’t feel good at all.
taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @simpforleeknaur @schniti-is-in-the-house
part 2
#stray kids x reader#stray kids#stray kids smut#skz smut#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin smut#skz x reader#stray kids hyunjin#hyunjin scenarios#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin x y/n#hyunjin x you#hwang hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin smut#hwang hyunjin fluff#hyunjin skz#skz imagines#skz scenarios#skz fluff#hyunjin stray kids
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Nicola and Luke are ABSOLUTELY TOGETHER and have been all along and here’s how I know
(Friends, I’ve just finished this and it is INSANELY LONG. Like, two looong book chapters long. But I PROMISE it’s worth it. I was gonna cut it into multiple parts to make it more readable, but I’m going to be super busy over the next few days, so I wouldn’t have a chance to post subsequent parts until probably Christmas, so I’ve decided to drop it all now so I don’t delay the final victorious conclusion. Sorry, it’s so long, but I don’t really have time to rethink it and try to tell the story in a more concise way. Again, I think you’ll be glad you stuck with it if you want to feel as thoroughly confident as I am that Nic and Luke are absolutely together.)
(Also, I have to run now, but I'll come back to add relevant photos/videos as time allows. But I'm sure you're all familiar with them anyway.)
So I want to start by saying something I’m sure I’ll repeat. This is, of course, just my opinion and supposition based on the evidence available to me. But I also want to say, I am absolutely, positively sure now in a way I have never been. Genuinely not a doubt in my mind, and I think you’ll agree by the end of this.
It’s also worth noting that this may be nothing new to some of you. I’ve only been on this platform for a week and have barely scratched the surface of the great content here. So this is how *I* came to the final, joyful conclusion that everything is right with the world where lukola is concerned. I had long been sure they belonged together, but was afraid to embrace the theories about them actually being together now for fear of heartbreak, plus all the confusing signals about A & J, etc.
But all that changed a couple nights ago when I finally got the last piece of the puzzle I needed to see the big picture. There were just too many things that didn’t make sense, until they did! I literally couldn’t sleep that night (seriously only got about 2 hours) and then spent next day telling my husband the story for hours (in 20-30 minute increments as he could spare them during his slow, Christmas time work day).
My husband has been a patient, long-suffering skeptic through all of this. He’s put up with my rants and constant videos I just had to share, but he’s been completely convinced from day one that they simply leaned into their friendship to turn on faux relationship vibes for PR. He was absolutely sure it was all just make-believe for the fans. No matter what I showed him, he could not be convinced.
Until yesterday. Yes, I convinced the toughest skeptic in town.
I think it’s important to start with my journey into the Lukola fandom for context. I was a casual Bridgerton watcher until this season, and had never read the books. I liked season 1, I loved season 2, and I was looking forward to watching season 3.
I had planned to wait to watch the first 4 until the second half was about to launch (so I wouldn’t have to wait for more), but I realized after about a week that we needed to watch it immediately before everything was completely spoiled by timeline gifs and clips.
Needless to say, I was beyond hooked. Instantly. Season 3 was another level for all the reasons you all know. Finally I could engage safely with the fandom, but the process from occasional Polin/Lukola content to nonstop immersion took some time. So even following the second half, there was a TON of footage I hadn’t seen.
All of this to say, I basically missed all of the World Tour stuff as it was happening, and it took well into the summer to finally see so many amazing clips and edits that I was absolutely fucking sucked into the lukola wormhole. However, I was well behind many of you on the curve, and even to this day, I’m still catching up on things.
But by late summer, I was all in. I was sailing high on USS Lukola (or I suppose that should be the HMS Lukola!) because I saw exactly what you all saw. This was clearly real, their feelings were indisputable, and everything about their behavior and much of what they said was so far beyond PR, even “faking couplehood” PR.
They were real. Even if he had this dumb girlfriend. (I say that only in the good-natured, abstract sense that I wanted him with Nic, not in a personal “actually about her” sense. In fact, I’ve never said anything hateful about either A or J and I hope I never will.)
WHY AREN’T THEY TOGETHER???
I couldn’t resist the mystery.
It drove me absolutely crazy for months trying to understand why they weren’t together. Nothing made sense, but I mentally explored literally every possibility. They’re afraid of ruining their friendship? They’re afraid of disrupting the production if it goes wrong? These possibilities at least made some kind of sense and seemed to be the only explanations I could find. But in my mind, they weren’t good enough reasons to resist what these two so obviously had. Still, I’m not them, so that was easy for me to say. I had nothing to risk in this.
One or both of them is/are secretly gay? Soulmate besties instead of soulmate lovers? I didn’t think this was the case and nothing made me believe this. Yet, I was attempting to allow for every possibility. Still, with Nicola being the super vocal “gay icon” that she is, it was hard to imagine she wouldn’t live out and proud if that was the case. And apparently she lived with an unknown man for two years. Though she does always keep her private (romantic) life super private, so I suppose who knows? And, of course, Luke had two very public past relationships with women, but again, who knows, I suppose? This option doesn’t ring true at all, but it does exist in the universe of possible explanations for this inexplicable situation.
They love each other in a soulmate way, but somehow one of them just isn’t “attracted” to the other? Certainly, if the stories about Antonia were true, that might suggest that Luke might be attracted to an entirely different physical type than Nicola. But that didn’t ring true either because LOOK AT THEM TOGETHER! He can’t take his eyes off of her, let alone his hands. And the same for her. They are magnetized to each other. If that’s not attraction, what is?
One of them has baggage and isn’t ready for a real, serious relationship? This one seemed possible. People can have hang-ups or wounds for all sorts of reasons, and letting someone in – especially someone who might actually be your soulmate – can be terrifying. Self-protection by avoiding relationships and/or distracting yourself with less meaningful relationships is a natural way of coping with baggage. Yes, maybe this one? Neither of them seems obviously wounded, but what would I know? Most people don’t wear their wounds on their sleeves, least of all during a PR tour. Still, the energy flow between them seemed anything but wounded. It seemed like the healthiest, happiest thing in the world.
People kept saying, they’re blind and they don’t see it yet. But I don’t believe anyone can be that blind. Especially after watching all the countless edits and clips of their tour, which we know they did because Nicola is chronically online and sharing with Luke the best of it all (and sneaky Luke is likely lurking also).
So at the end of the day, I had no good explanation. It just kept not making sense.
Then those music festival photos of Nic and Jake (I’ll abbreviate sometimes for ease, but I do say their names) showed up. The fandom erupted into chaos with full reactions across the spectrum including a bizarre, almost immediate burst of (not yet named) jakolas, which felt like a disproportionate response to a few photos.
Admittedly, those photos did look quite friendly, and touchy, and yes, they stood arm-in-arm. But lots of friends stand like that at concerts. And Nic is known to be touchy-feely, so let’s not go overboard, I thought. However, I did acknowledge (in my head, I didn’t weigh in online at all) that it suggested that it COULD be romantic. I opted not to freak out, because either way, Nic’s love life is her own and I want her to be happy.
And it’s worth saying here that both of their private lives are none of my business, none of any of our business, and even writing this is completely at odds with that truth. I acknowledge that. But what I told myself, and actually meant it, was that I was going to stay out of it unless and until NicLuke got together. That was the only place I would invest my energy since they’ve both said they think it’s sweet that fans ship them. If they dated others, good luck to them. Be happy. But when the time comes…
Yes, friends, the time has come!!! But back to my story.
Note that (because again, I was still catching up), I hadn’t yet seen the swimming in Sorrento photos and had missed that piece of the puzzle at that point. Throughout this time, I’d see people refer to things on Twitter like everyone already knew what they were talking about, but hardly anyone ever took the time to explain. So I got lots of glimmers of things that others felt were notable, without actually knowing any details. Those pictures were an example. Another was the Claddagh ring.
I’m very grateful to some amazing deep dive blog entries by @threeacttragedy that explained the ring, “Bless the Telephone,” and other meaty, important history that I’d previously only heard mentioned in passing. In fact, one of her blogs is what first brought me here by referral from Twitter. And if you don’t follow her, you should!
In the past week, as I started reading blogs that broke down past dates and clues, I finally started looking them up one by one and trying to put the pieces together in my head. I’d seen the swimming photos by then, but I revisited them. I dug in to try to understand the references to a “New Year kiss” from the night the friend group (Rory, etc.) posted photos together from a Soho House party. I reviewed Hot Boy Summer, I rewatched the incredibly emotional video of Luke meeting Nicola’s mom, I looked at photos of the Claddagh ring and went to Chupi’s website. I learned about the LA photos from April, both Antonia’s version and the InStyle Polaroids. I reviewed all the photos of Luke and Antonia that I could find. And I reviewed all the photos and videos of Nic and Jake that I could find. Also, I listened to “Bless the Telephone” about one hundred times. Lol.
Regarding Luke and Antonia, I had the same response in this deep dive I’ve had every time. Weird. I mean, if I didn’t feel so strongly that Luke was in love with Nicola, and if I knew nothing about him except he was some hot actor, could I see him dating someone like A? Sure. But the fact that there are almost no pictures of them posing together, alone like a couple, is weird. Even if it’s super casual and she was just his date to some stuff. The fact that Luke looks grumpy in both sets of pap photos (premiere night and swimming in Sorrento), but A is smiling happily in at least one of the premiere night photos is weird. The fact that after the Sorrento pap photos, Luke seems to leave his friend group to come home early, and then stops liking any of his best friend Rory’s photos from there on, weird.
The fact that in the fall, she posts pictures harkening back to a place and time they were apparently together, but without any actual photos together, weird. And the continual drip, drip of Likes from Luke is weird. And then when a photo of Luke in a restaurant in Rome is posted by the restaurant, she immediately follows with a video story of someone making pasta in the same restaurant, weird.
Perhaps weirdest of all, the fact that she pre-posted the LA pictures, and then he gave other versions of the same shots to InStyle. Especially the switching seats thing. If my husband and I were taking pics of each other at a café, I’d take his picture in front of the traffic, and he’d take my picture in front of the restaurant, because that’s where we’d be sitting. Across from each other. So why switch seats to take the photos? It’s not like that street with traffic was such a fantastic backdrop that we’d each need our turn with that shot? And they’re the same, with the same table number, but different. Sure, traffic moves, but weird coincidence that they each had a white truck, but a DIFFERENT white truck. So, like I said, weird. Always implying they were together, but never actually saying/showing it. Weird.
I read all sorts of theories from pragmatic (we just have to accept that they’re dating) to hateful (they’re not together/never were, but she’s obsessed and keeps inserting herself in a pathetic, desperate plea for attention and followers) to seemingly far-fetched (some sort of NDA that means for some reason Luke is obligated to Like her photos). Only the first of these seemed plausible. I maybe didn’t like it (not maybe, I didn’t like it at all), but I thought, “Yes, I guess we just have to accept that they’re probably together until they tell us otherwise.”
(Though I held out a small sliver of “but we don’t know anything for sure until L and/or N tell us themselves” hope, which remains true even as I write this.)
Now, let’s talk about Nic and Jake. First, there were those shots from the concert (discussed above). Then, I believe, were the NYC shots (if I’m not confusing the order). In the NYC shots, they were both there, but they weren’t especially intimate in any interpersonal sense. Then, the pap shots on the street posted on DM, ostensibly catching them walking home together, holding hands and arm-in-arm after a night at the pub. With those photos came an onslaught of fandom fury and gossip site reporting about how “Nicola Coughlan confirms her relationship…” Same story runs across a bunch of trashy sites, all saying the same thing and citing an unnamed source talking about how besotted they were, or whatever the quote was.
Admittedly, I was among the furious fans. Not because of what the pictures showed. Again, I was trying to be serene and Zen about them and their private lives. I believed with all my heart that NicLuke belonged together, but if now wasn’t their time, I’d have to wait. I didn’t love that I’d heard he was only 24, but I was trying to balance my efforts to be a non-judgmental person with my discomfort over that issue and reminding myself that her choices are none of my business (unless she chooses Luke!).
So I did my best to refrain from judgment, even as I saw the fandom erupt into toxic madness about whether it was true, whether he was gay, whether the age gap was wrong, whether DM lied about the date, and if they did (which they did), why? But I figured, unless the photos were very, very old, things weren’t likely to have changed in their relationship over a couple weeks, so I wasn’t overly concerned about the date.
However, I was angry about all these stories (basically the same story across the board) announcing that she’d “CONFIRMED” the relationship. It made me very angry that they said she confirmed something when she’d done nothing of the sort. I wasn’t prepared to argue that she wasn’t dating Jake at that point, but why would they all run this story, with this headline, when what actually happened was a paparazzi photographer snapped shots and sold them, then the media drew conclusions from what they saw.
Nicola never confirmed a damn thing. So why were they running this headline so universally?
I was also angry that the photos existed at all. Photos in her neighborhood could reveal her location and put her safety at risk. Also, how did they happen to be there to take those photos late one specific night? Felt like they must have received a tip. But I moved on and forgot about that part.
Time went on and I saw more and more discussion of Jake’s sexuality. I don’t really want to get into that here because I don’t really feel comfortable speculating about anyone unless they choose to explicitly come out, but I did finally start poking around his page, Douglas’s page, etc. and began to understand why people were saying what they were saying. However, I reminded myself that bi/pan-sexuality exists and I wasn’t willing to partake in bi-erasure, so I held my tongue and kept watching.
Now, at this point, I want to remind us all that Nic has always been extremely private and uttered nary a peep in public about her romantic/sexual life. And fair enough. It’s none of our damn business. Also, she’s talked extensively about how women are not just men’s girlfriends and her feminist take on many things and how it doesn’t feel nice to know that people are more interested in her love life than her work. She’s worked freaking hard to achieve the success she’s now enjoying, and she certainly should not be reduced to a woman in a relationship. No matter who is on the other end of that relationship.
(Again here, I feel the need to acknowledge my hypocrisy in writing this, but I really do genuinely love Nic’s work and spirit and activism, etc. as well.)
So, in light of her position on all of that, we wouldn’t expect her to go public with a new love interest. The fact that she was papped with this guy (if indeed he was a love interest) was just an indication of how much her celebrity and profile have grown. There’s greater interest now and she’s more recognizable now, so it’s to be expected that she’d have a harder time keeping her love life private now than in the past. Not so strange then, that she got caught a couple times in paparazzi photos at this point.
However, would she really then go public with that guy? That would mark a radical change in her behavior just when you’d think she’d want to be the most private because the glare of the spotlight is brighter than ever. Still, she allowed a public photo with him, Camilla, and Evan Ross Katz to go out shortly thereafter. If one believed they were dating, that could certainly be interpreted as a launch. Yet, as I said, would she really do that if she were dating him?
Then he started popping up everywhere. I won’t get the chronology here right because I don’t want to research the dates right now, but there was the Charlie xcx concert, in which she appeared with Jake and Dylan, who is out and proud. The Queer premiere where he was just caught in the background of a fan photo. The simultaneously released photos from the red and gold restaurant (with a mysterious third person taking the photos). There was the apparently brunch-time photo of her with Jake and two others, taken by Dylan. And most recently, Louisa’s photo with Jake and Douglas (who is also openly gay and close friends, if not more, with Jake).
I’m not mentioning all the players in all of these because it’s not critical to the story, and I may be forgetting some photos, but there is a point to all of this. First, there’s potentially a notable shift in what she’s allowing to be shared here. Again, historically, she’s never shared anything about her love life. Suddenly, she’s letting him be photographed everywhere. Also, at most of these events, there were other queer participants and/or queer content (the movie premiere).
And while she’s never allowed her romantic life to be shared, you know what she has often shared? Photos with all of her platonic friends, including her huge friend group of many, many gay men. So this trend in what she’s allowing to be shared suggests that she’s telling a story and clarifying Jake’s role in her life.
But then there’s that one mystery release, the simultaneously timed restaurant photo drops. Clearly coordinated, clearly indicating they were there together. No indication about the third party. Why? Just enough to hint that there might be something going on, and to continue wreaking havoc in the fandom.
Because remember that toxic fandom bickering over all of this? The jakolas swearing they’re in love and soon to be engaged and furious at the lukolas for “being blind and refusing to accept the truth and it’s so disrespectful to Nic ('who you claim to love') by disregarding her feelings and treating the love of her life so badly. They keep showing you they’re in love and you won’t listen!” Etc., etc.
Meanwhile, the lukolas fall into a couple camps. By this point, most have decided Nic and Jake aren’t dating, but some remain circumspect. Some scream back at the jakolas, ostensibly in defense of Jake, saying very similar things about “Jake and his friends are doing everything in their power to show you the truth and you refuse to see it.” And a variety of other responses. Everyone’s mad at everyone.
And all of it, every bit of it, keeps us ALL talking about Nicola Coughlan and Luke Newton. Nonstop, every day.
Now, we are nearing the big mic drop of all of this, and I want to say at this point that we need to remember that Nic and Luke are HUMAN BEINGS who have a right to privacy. And they are celebrities living in a world that has an intense interest in their love lives. And sometimes, we might not feel good about the measures they must take to protect their privacy. We might hate those measures. We might feel manipulated, and we are. But if we love and respect them as much as I hope we all do, we can also understand and forgive them for taking such measures.
A quick review of important factors in all of this:
THINGS THAT TELL US IT’S REAL
The Galway trip and that very emotional introduction to Nic’s mom, which looked for all the world like a woman meeting her future son-in-law
The Claddagh ring and how she’s been wearing it
The things reporters, cast, and crew have said in passing and/or posted, not to mention recent open shipping from Ryan Wheeler and Shondaland’s IG
Everything we saw with our own eyes on the world tour, not to mention everything we’ve seen in the BTS
Little droplets of NicLuke over the recent months like Bless the Telephone and (not yet mentioned above) the S4 selfie and the photo of them in costume that Nic said she thought she’d shared, but now it’s ours (while she hasn’t posted any Jake)
The absolute consistency of all of this as a story that makes sense
THINGS THAT MAKE US DOUBT IT’S REAL AND/OR KEEP US GUESSING AND DISCUSSING
The premiere night pap photos (and though I didn’t mention it earlier, the fact that Nic went home that night so she wasn’t around for A’s attendance)
The friend group photos at Soho House with Luke, A and others
The weird LA InStyle photos
The Sorrento swimming photos
The multiple sets of pap photos of Nic and Jake, including grainy night-time neighborhood photos (with a woman walking a dog in the background)
The way every gossip news outlet ran the same “Nicola confirmed her relationship” story with the same headline and the same anonymous quote
The weirdly devoted, intensely defensive jakolas/Jake stans that seem to care about nothing but Jake/jakola out of nowhere and love screaming at and stirring up shit with lukolas
The chaos and constant discussion of all of this over the past 6+ months
The absolute inconsistency of any of this with anything in the top group
So, this mystery just gets deeper and deeper, and none of it makes sense. Every time I’d try to accept that they were just seeing these other people, something would bump in my head. There were just too many weird things that didn’t quite make sense and the biggest, weirdest one of them all was that NICOLA AND LUKE ARE CLEARLY IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER.
So while the pieces would always almost fit, the puzzle never quite took shape. Until two nights ago when I stumbled on @lukolafan ’s page after they liked one of my posts. I scrolled down their page and found a link labeled “Lukola PR Strategies and Fake Narratives.” I cannot scream this loudly enough. GO VISIT THAT LINK!!!!! (I’ll add the links myself later if I have time.)
I did and it led to a series of Reddit posts taking an academic approach to teaching us, the general public (and lukola fans) PR Media Literacy. Among the various topics it discussed were things like:
“PR Firms and Entertainment Media: Coordinating “News” Across Gossip, Entertainment, and Official Publications,” which talks about using anonymous sources, more about staged paparazzi, and repeated narratives (“outlets echo identical stories, reinforcing PR-approved messaging, for example, multiple outlets platforms describing a celebrity ‘rising above’ a controversy, quoting the same anonymous insider” – Sound familiar?)
“The Invisible Hand of Celebrity Privacy: How PR Fabricates Narratives and Manipulates Fans,” which includes ways that PR strategies intentionally manipulate fans to fight/debate celebs faking relationships, and more (sound familiar?)
There’s honestly so much meat in all of these (there are a couple others as well) that they are ALL worth reading. There is definitely some repetition, but still, the content is super insightful and revealing and can help us all be more savvy consumers of media.
But I want to focus on two CRITICAL posts, in particular.
“The Role of Staged Paparazzi and Gossip Outlets in Celebrity PR Campaigns”
The first part of this piece talks about the method for staging fake paparazzi photos to create narratives. Two items of particular note (and I’m excerpting directly):
Quality Control of the Image: While professional photographers use high-quality cameras, staged paparazzi photos are intentionally manipulated to appear grainy or blurry. This adds a layer of authenticity to the photo, making it look as though the photographer stumbled upon the celebrity by chance.
Extra Figures in the Background: Another key tactic in staged paparazzi photos involves the use of background extras—people who might be walking with dogs, pushing strollers, or simply in the vicinity.
Think of Nicola’s photos walking home with Jake, a woman walking a dog behind them. Some of them are clear, but some are quite grainy, despite the fact that professional photographers have great equipment and are more than capable of taking a night-time shot.
Another excerpt…
Gossip Outlets: DeuxMoi and the Symbiotic Relationship with PR Firms
With the rise of user-generated content and anonymously submitted tips, gossip websites have become integral to the modern celebrity PR machine. Sites like DeuxMoi thrive on rumors and speculation, providing a platform for fans and anonymous sources to share celebrity gossip. PR teams exploit these platforms to feed their desired narratives without appearing to directly control the flow of information.
How Gossip Sites Like DeuxMoi Work:
Anonymous Tips and Leaks: PR teams often send anonymous tips to gossip outlets, offering details about celebrity activities or sightings. These tips are deliberately vague, leaving room for interpretation and speculation. Once posted on sites like DeuxMoi, the stories tend to snowball as they are shared across social media and republished by larger outlets.
Fueling Speculation: These posts generate buzz and speculation, keeping celebrities in the public eye without any direct confirmation. Gossip sites become a key player in amplifying the narrative, as fans, influencers, and media outlets continue to discuss and spread the information.
Mutual Benefits: While gossip sites operate independently, there is a mutual benefit to the relationship between them and PR teams. Gossip sites thrive on traffic and engagement, while PR teams can ensure their client’s name stays relevant in the public discourse. By subtly feeding stories, PR teams maintain control over how their celebrity’s narrative unfolds.
The piece goes on to give specific examples like Kendall Jenner and Bad Bunny, Tomdaya, Gigi Hadad and Zayne Malik, etc. then talks about fake fan interactions and how to spot them.
It offers key questions to ask about the photos you see (like what story is it telling and why and who benefits?) and then it gives this example. If your ears aren’t already fully perked, this will do it:
Example: 37-Year-Old Famous Actress and 24-Year-Old Lesser-Known Celebrity
Narrative of Romance or Distraction: In this case, the 37-year-old actress is likely fueling rumors of a relationship with the 24-year-old to either distract from something else in her personal life (like a real romantic partner) or to refresh her public image. The younger celebrity could be hired to play a temporary love interest or interest figure in the media, leading people to speculate whether they are more than just friends.
Creating a Romance or Mystery: The photo of them walking arm-in-arm, laughing, or holding hands might suggest that a romantic connection exists. This could be used to make the actress seem more relatable, desirable, or single, even if there is no romantic involvement behind the scenes.
Diverting Public Focus: If the actress is privately in a relationship with another celebrity or involved in an ongoing controversy, the staged photo with the younger celebrity helps to deflect attention. By inserting a "mystery romance," the public is more interested in who the new partner is, leaving the actress’s real partner or issues to stay out of the spotlight.
PR Stunt to Revitalize Publicity: The actress might not just be looking for romantic gossip but also fresh exposure. A curated paparazzi shot could serve as a PR tool to keep the actress's name in circulation—be it through romantic rumors, new partnerships, or simply new media content to fuel speculation.
Potential Body Double for Real Partner: If the real partner is shying away from the public eye or trying to avoid the media, the younger celebrity might act as a "body double" or decoy. This helps maintain an image of the actress being in a public relationship, while allowing her to keep the real relationship.
Don’t think I need to explain the relevance of this very specific example. There’s a lot more in the post, but I’ll move on for now to the next key post.
“Breadcrumbing and Coordinated Campaigns”
In this piece, they offer first some key breadcrumbing tactics, many of which sound awfully familiar.
Common Types of Breadcrumbs:
Cryptic Social Media Posts: Celebrities post vague messages or abstract references, sparking fan theories. Example: Harry Styles posts cryptic images or quotes, prompting speculation.
Coordinated Social Media Timing: PR teams synchronize posts to create the illusion of a shared narrative. Example: Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss posted similar content at the same time, fueling relationship rumors.
Accidental Social Media Interactions: Liking posts or commenting on ambiguous tweets creates intimacy and speculation. Example: Kendall Jenner engages with fans on social media, fueling rumors.
Seemingly Innocent Photos: Casual photos subtly hint at a larger narrative. Example: Zendaya and Tom Holland posted photos together, teasing their relationship.
Cryptic? Like Bless the Telephone? Or a mysterious left-handed guy holding a phone in the background while Nic gets ready?
Synchronized like Nic and Jake at that restaurant? Or as far as that goes, like Nic and Luke with the S4 selfie?
Accidental social media interactions? I didn’t go into that here, but we’ve seen lots of odd likes and things, lots of Nic interactions, oh, and those RW and SL likes of late.
Seemingly innocent photos. Like very happy looking S4 pics and the “now it’s yours” BTS photo?
Perhaps most of this could be interpreted as just genuine fan interaction and fan service, which I think it is to some extent. It’s a natural part of the business. But it’s also very often done with intention.
But here’s the more important part of this piece. It gives some case studies (Ben and JLo, Shawn and Camila), then it gives two “abstract�� examples.
YOU’LL LOVE THIS. Note that the second example changes to an actor and a musician, but don’t let that fool you. Keep reading for some unmistakable specifics.
Breadcrumbing with a Fake PR Girlfriend: Case Study of Celebrity 007
For Celebrity 007, breadcrumbing is used to create a false narrative about a relationship with a PR girlfriend. This helps maintain fan interest while deflecting attention from the celebrity’s true personal life.
How It Works:
First Breadcrumbs: The PR strategy begins with posts from both the celebrity and the PR girlfriend, hinting at a connection without confirming it. Example: Celebrity 007 posts a picture from a Paris restaurant or cafe in LA and the PR girlfriend shares a similar post from the same location but from a different day with different white trucks in the background (double check the Instyle Stunt images!!!)
Expanding the Narrative: Shared travel posts and indirect interactions continue the illusion of a relationship. Example: Matching geo-tags in posts from Rome suggest they were there together.
Indirect Engagement: Likes, comments, and ambiguous interactions increase intrigue without confirming the relationship. Example: The PR girlfriend comments, “Great to be here with you! 💖,” on Celebrity 007's post.
Paparazzi Shots: Carefully timed candid shots further reinforce the illusion of a relationship. Example: Paparazzi photos of Celebrity 007 and the PR girlfriend walking hand-in-hand, fueling speculation.
Note:
Café in LA, same location, different trucks?
Matching tags in Rome?
Likes and ambiguous interactions
Carefully timed (say at a premiere party) candid paparazzi shops w gf walking hand-in-hand
And then there’s the next one. In the interest of length since this is already hella long, I’ve removed some less relevant parts, but I encourage you to read it yourself.
Breadcrumbing to Hide a Real Relationship: Case Study of Celebrity 009
Why Hide the True Relationship?
In celebrity culture, the decision to keep a relationship private—or hidden—can be a strategic move, driven by a mix of personal privacy and professional interests. Some celebrities may choose to share their personal lives openly, but for others, particularly those who value their privacy or wish to control their public image, keeping a relationship private is key. This is especially relevant for two celebrities who are romantically involved but prefer to maintain discretion, despite public curiosity about their relationship.
Whether it’s a high-profile couple like Beyoncé and Jay-Z, or a less conspicuous pairing, the decision to hide the true nature of a romantic relationship often involves balancing personal desires with career strategy. In this scenario, let’s explore why two celebrities might choose to keep their relationship under wraps and the complex PR considerations that lead them to do so.
Media Scrutiny/Escaping Constant Surveillance: Navigating the Spotlight Together (I’ve combined two sections here for length)
When two celebrities become romantically involved, the media will inevitably take notice. The relationship can quickly become the focal point of constant headlines, paparazzi photos, and gossip columns. For celebrities who value their privacy, this level of scrutiny can feel overwhelming, as every public appearance or moment shared can quickly turn into speculation, even if the couple doesn’t wish to attract attention.
Romanticized Expectations: The Pressure of Perfection
Media scrutiny often creates an unrealistic, romanticized version of a celebrity relationship. Fans and the public tend to project their fantasies onto famous couples, imagining them as the perfect, unbreakable pairing. The real complexities of a relationship—differences, compromises, and struggles—often don't fit neatly into the idealized narratives created by the public.
For a couple like Actor A and Musician B, the pressure to live up to these idealized expectations can be exhausting. By choosing to keep their relationship private, they can avoid the constant pressure to fit into a preconceived mold. Hiding the relationship from public view allows them to keep things grounded and avoid being turned into a media spectacle.
Brand Control: Managing the Image of "Singleness" or "Availability"
For many celebrities, their public image is closely tied to their brand, and that brand may depend on their perceived "availability" or their status as desirable, unattached individuals. The way the public perceives a celebrity’s romantic life—whether they are single, dating, or in a long-term relationship—can have a significant impact on their professional success and marketability.
Creating Room for Desire: The Allure of the Single Celebrity
Consider Actor A, a leading man known for portraying romantic heroes on screen. The public’s perception of Actor A as a single, unattainable figure is key to their marketability, both in the media and as a brand. If they were to publicly reveal a relationship with Musician B, it could diminish that aura of unattainability. Similarly, Musician B may want to maintain a flirtatious public persona, which could be undermined if they were publicly involved with someone. By keeping the relationship private, both celebrities retain the allure of being desirable and unattached, feeding into the fantasies of their fans.
Avoiding the "Couple" Brand: Risk of Being Reduced to a Package Deal
When a high-profile couple’s relationship is made public, they may become known less for their individual work and more for their collective identity as a couple. In some cases, the couple's public appearances or shared brand messages may overshadow their individual projects. Think of Beyoncé and Jay-Z, who have an incredibly powerful couple brand that often eclipses their solo endeavors in the media. For celebrities like Actor A and Musician B, the fear of being seen as a "package deal" might drive them to hide their relationship. This allows both to maintain their distinct identities, keeping their projects and brands separate and preventing the public from viewing them solely as a pair.
Respecting Boundaries: The Vulnerability of Celebrity Relationships
Even when two celebrities are involved, the vulnerabilities of a relationship can become the focus of media attention if they go public. Romantic relationships—especially those in the high-pressure world of celebrity—are often fraught with ups and downs. The public might demand to know every detail, fueling rumors of breakups, infidelities, or relationship drama. By keeping their romance under wraps, Actor A and Musician B can avoid becoming the subject of constant gossip and can maintain some semblance of normalcy in their private lives.
Avoiding Disruptive Publicity
Celebrity relationships often attract media scrutiny not only about their romantic lives but also about how their relationship affects their careers. The public and the media often delve into the smallest details, speculating about how the relationship might impact their professional trajectories, previous relationships, or future projects.
Career Disruption: The Challenge of Balancing Love and Work
For celebrities like Musician B, a new relationship can take attention away from their upcoming album release or concert tour. The media’s obsession with their personal life might overshadow the launch of a new professional project. Similarly, if Actor A is in the middle of promoting a film or preparing for a big role, the press could focus more on their relationship than their craft, disrupting the flow of their work.
I won’t bother reviewing the relevance of all of the above. I’m sure you can see it plainly for yourself. The examples are absolutely, positively referencing Nicola and Luke, and the reasons for hiding it are super relevant. Especially boundaries, disruption, pressure to be perfect, and being reduced to a package deal.
Now at this point, it’s worth asking the question, do we trust this source? I don’t actually know who posted this content, so I can’t verify their credentials. Perhaps this is yet another PR person’s tricky efforts to continually confuse us and keep us guessing? That seems unlikely since the entire purpose is to help lift the veil on all the other tricks. If you wanted the other tricks to be effective, you’d hardly be revealing them to your target audiences.
But even setting that very logical assumption aside, the reason I know with every fiber of my being that it’s true is that this is literally the only version of events that makes sense of absolutely everything.
All those mysterious and confusing signals, all those weird photos and changes in behavior, all the inconsistencies between what we all saw with our own eyes (they are IN LOVE) and what we saw subsequently with the adjacents, all the tiny Lukola crumbs keeping us hanging on, and all the fandom bickering, especially from bizarrely rabid jakolas.
Every bit of it makes complete sense if we accept that Nic, Luke, and their PR teams have been using a classic PR handbook to distract us from the very real truth that they are together and in love.
Does it hurt to know we’ve been manipulated? You bet it does! But I quickly accepted that because I was so happy to have the truth verified at last. And because I understand why they would do it.
Relationships are hard enough when lived in private. No relationship, no matter how much people love each other, is without challenge. Even soulmates have issues to navigate. Can you imagine the pressure on them if the whole world was watching?
And their lives have added challenges. Travel and separation. Long work schedules that may often be at odds. Possibly romantic scenes with future co-stars that could stir up uncomfortable feelings. Career ups and downs that may not always synch up. Fans and media watching their every move, dissecting them, judging them, rooting for them, and just putting massive pressure on them. What if they fail? They’re letting down the whole world, not just themselves.
And what about Nic’s longstanding demand for privacy? And her emphasis that no woman is just some dude’s girlfriend. She wants to be known for her own work and achievement and passions, not for who she dates or marries. Even if it is wonderful Luke.
Likewise, Luke is just now achieving a newfound level of success. This is a moment for him to seize and make the most of. Being a hot, sexy, ostensibly single guy is good for his brand right now. Even if we know he loves Nicola, his stans need to be able to fantasize about him, which is easier if his relationship is unconfirmed.
And let’s face it, if they come out as a couple, IT WILL BE LUKOLA all the time. That will be the story. Certainly if they’d come out during the World Tour, every question at every stop would be about them and their personal “friends to lovers story.” It would be irresistible to reporters. Too good a story to ignore. And they’d spend way more time talking about their personal lives than about their work. Does that sound like something either of them would want?
And one last thing. Back to their changes in behavior. Does it make more sense that Nicola, who has always been super private about her love life, would suddenly be willing to be photographed constantly with her new bf Jake? Or that Jake is not her bf and she’s keeping her actual bf (or fiancé or husband) secret?
Meanwhile, Luke, who has always been open about his relationships in the past suddenly decides to tighten up and share absolutely nothing about his private life? Well, that makes complete sense if he’s now in a relationship with a woman who is famously private and shares not one word publicly. Suddenly, literally everything makes sense and is entirely consistent.
So there it is, folks. To me, this is the Holy Grail. There’s not a doubt left in my mind about them. They’re together and everything else – literally everything else – is a decoy and a distraction, and every bit of it comes straight from the PR playbook.
I’d like to maintain a sliver of hope that they’re leaving much of it to their teams and they’re not in on the worst of it, but in any case, I don’t blame them one bit for trying to protect their love. It’s too special to let it be destroyed by public consumption. You gotta do what you gotta do.
Given that I don’t actually know them and haven’t confirmed anything directly, I’ll leave 1.5% room for doubt, and adjust my certainty to 98.5%.
And you may dismiss all of this and draw very different conclusions, which is okay, too. But if I’m being really honest, I’m actually 1,000% sure. And I couldn’t be happier for them.
What do we do now? That’s up to each of us. Personally, I’m going to be blissfully happy for them, not sweat any of the distractions, let them live as quietly as they like, and patiently await the day (whether it’s very soon or far in the future) when they finally go public. I hope you’ll do the same.
And until then, I’m going to keep watching Lukola videos on repeat.
#lukola#luke newton#nicola coughlan#polin#polin bridgerton#nicluke#lukola is real#I've never been more sure of anything#then again#But it's all true and I can prove it
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