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comatosebunny09 · 1 month ago

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apt 302 | sylus q.

— summary: at first, your new neighbor was as mysterious as he was handsome. after taking some time to get to know him—or forcing your way into his quiet life—you realize looks can be deceiving. — cw: gn reader, neighbors au, neighbors to friends to lovers, profanity, innuendoes, jealousy, misunderstandings, stalker ex, alcohol use, guns mentioned, self-indulgent, allusions to reincarnation, angst, pet names, sylus being an insufferable gentleman, slice of life — dividers by: @omi-resources — notes: this grew way longer than i expected, soooooo you’re gonna hate me for what comes next. anyways, thank you so much for reading! — now playing: my favorite person now - she was pretty ost — tagging: @alfredosaws, @sinsodom @chuppiechanchan @hao-ming-8 @antonneva @sunsets-and-crows @leighsartworks216 @grabby-smitten @nebulorra @minniestarmj @elysiums-light @saiaise @queenofstresss @beewilko @aetherscribit @libriomancer @world-of-hearts @awkwardnurse @huachengnism

Information Technology isn’t as cushy of a field as you initially thought.

Sure, you have a desk job doing the most mundane of things—working the help desk, troubleshooting devices, re-imaging computers. But your job isn’t without its drawbacks.

Sometimes, the days are long and arduous. The constant customer interaction doesn’t help matters; you’re a bit of an introvert, requiring five business days to recover from just a few hours of socializing.

So, forgive you for seeking a little respite in the form of your favorite set of pajamas and fuzzy slippers as you ease into your apartment.

The weight of the world sloughs off your shoulders when the door leading inside clicks shut behind you. You sigh gratefully, the sound of your keys clattering against your entryway table, intermingling with that of your AC humming to life.

You hang your bag and sweater on the coat rack. Trade your uncomfortable shoes for house slippers, the soreness in your heels slowly retreating. The last vestiges of sunlight creep through the slits of your blinds to bathe your home in its ethereal glow before ducking behind the horizon.

Your apartment is humble. Has a natural, minimalistic vibe with bits of decor displaying your personality sprinkled throughout. You already pay the price of a kidney and two lungs to stay here. No use investing in posh furniture when your job sometimes requires you to pick up and go at the drop of a hat.

Your stomach growls whilst you draw your curtains shut and turn on some ambient lighting via your phone. You’ll eat soon, you promise. For now, you’re on a mission.

Quietly, you move through your home in search of your laundry area, thoroughly prepared to slip into your PJs following a shower to jumpstart your weekend.

Too bad a pile of sopping wet clothes awaits you when you open your dryer door.

“Goddammit,” said under your breath as you mash the power button. It won’t turn on. Figures. You kick the offending appliance. Stupid thing must be out again.

You had set your clothes to dry before you left for work. You were looking forward to snuggling up with wine and your favorite show, donned in comfy clothes. Seems your dryer had other plans.

You should’ve replaced it months ago when it first started acting up. You had hoped to salvage it a little longer; appliances don’t come cheap these days. Besides, you’ve had a darling neighbor to fix it each time. To extend its lifespan.

Speaking of which—

Chewing your lip, you pad over your cold, hardwood floor to snatch your phone from the coffee table. Fall onto your couch cushions with a devious smile twitching your lips. It’s getting late, so you don’t think to badger him into tinkering with your dryer tonight. However, perhaps he’ll let you utilize his. At least until you can use your day off tomorrow to shop for a replacement.

You hover your thumb over his contact, his name flanked by crow emojis. Contemplate calling him, but what if he’s busy? This is usually about the time he’s leaving. Instead, you settle for opening your messaging app, already conjuring an excuse.

(You): 🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛💥💥💥 (Sylus): lol (Sylus): good morning to you too. (You): 😒😒😒 dude it’s like 6 (Sylus): 🤷‍♂️ (Sylus): im just now getting up. long day at the office. (Sylus): whats up? (You): are you busy tonight?? (Sylus): not really. 😏 what did you have in mind ? (You): pause. not like that (Sylus): 😢 (You): my dryer’s out again (Sylus): ah. want me to take a look? (You): nah you already do so much (You): is it cool if i use yours tho? 😬😬😬 (You): i’ll bring you booze (Sylus): lol (Sylus): its fine sweetie. doors unlocked. ill be in the shower. help yourself. (You): 🙏🙏🙏

You take your time gathering your saturated clothes into a basket. On your way out, you snag a bottle of Merlot from your fridge.

No matter how often you’ve been here, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to how much more… put together Sylus’ place is compared to yours.

It suits him—the black and red furniture, the stylish accents littering his apartment. It smells delightful inside, a mixture of mahogany and amber enmeshed with remnants of food. Soulful jazz flows from a record player, fitting the sepia-toned glow of floor lamps and candles flickering on every other surface.

You toe the door shut behind you. Feel so small and out of place amid his decor. You’ve only recently started coming here, having spent much of your time together inside your apartment. Regardless, you navigate his space like it’s your second home, finding his washer and dryer set.

After starting your clothes in the dryer, you wander back to the living room, hands stuffed in the pockets of your cardigan. You take some time to admire the atmosphere. Fingers skim over the various vinyls organized on a built-in bookcase on the wall.

You snort with a half-smile. You know so little about your neighbor, yet you know just enough to be this comfortable with him.

He’s a music buff; that much is for sure. He’s clearly made of money if the luxurious furniture and his car are anything to go by. You don’t press him about what he does for a living. Figure he values his privacy above all else, unlike you.

You’re an open book. The primary yapper in your acquaintanceship, prattling on about your life and aspirations. And he just sits there, wordlessly nodding with a polite smile behind the rim of his glass. Where you would otherwise be wary of being in someone’s home like this, you feel safe around him in a way that almost terrifies you.

“Admiring the decor,” teases a voice from behind.

You jolt, spinning around like you’ve been caught stealing. You’re met with a smirk beneath scarlet eyes, twinkling with mischief. Strands of white cling to Sylus’ forehead, damp from the warm spray of his shower. He towels his hair dry, maneuvering around the living set towards you.

“Hey, you,” you greet, trying to play it cool. Like your heart isn’t hammering and heat isn’t branching into your cheeks. You attempt to maintain eye contact. It’s increasingly difficult to do so with his physique peeking through his t-shirt and sweats like that.

“Hey, yourself.” There’s amusement in the deep gravel of his voice. A smile in his eyes as he studies you, draping his towel around his shoulders.

You swallow. Try to divert the subject, motioning to his record collection. “You got some new tunes, I see.”

A chuckle is dredged from the bowels of his chest. You feel it pull in your stomach. “Sure did. Got something you might like.”

God help you as he reaches around you, the fine hairs littering your body standing on end, your mouth agape like a fish out of water.

Unconsciously, you step back, your spine softly thudding against the records display. Your heartbeat’s on a warpath, and you swallow against the dryness of your throat as the veiny, sinewy muscle in his forearm stains your periphery.

He gives you a bemused look before slowly peeling a record from the shelf behind you. Steps back to fish out the vinyl and settle it on the platter, replacing the record that was just playing.

You release a breath you were unaware of holding. Good job playing it cool, dumbass.

“You alright?” Sylus quizzes with a raised brow. “You seem a little on edge tonight, sweetie.”

You sigh, schooling an unconvincing smile onto your face. Try to ignore how the term of endearment glides off his tongue so effortlessly. You wonder how many other people he addresses like that.

“Work was…rough today. Kicked my ass. I’m tired.”

A snarling sound invades the space between you, heard over the gentle croon of the new music. Your eyes fall to your stomach. You rub it placatingly. In all your haste to have some dry friggin’ clothes, you forgot to eat.

“And hungry, too,” you sheepishly add.

You glance up, and Sylus’ gaze tracks from your stomach to your face. He smirks knowingly, motioning with a nod toward his kitchen.

“Figured you didn’t eat yet. I made carbonara if you’d like some.”

You smile wryly at his back as he pads away, carrying the scent of cedarwood and bergamot with him. Where would you be without such a doting neighbor?

You track him to the kitchen. Leaning against the threshold, you watch him procure a bottle of water from his fridge. It’s so very small, dwarfed by his massive hand.

“I suddenly got called for a Teams meeting five minutes ago.”

Your heart drops, the smile nearly falling from your face. And here you thought you’d have his company over dinner.

Suddenly, he taps your nose, drawing you out of your thoughts. You hadn’t noticed when he got closer, swaddled in the static of your bodies being so close. “Where did you run off to,” he rasps, searching your gaze for something.

The proximity of your bodies grows stifling, his warm breath glazing over your skin, dizzying. When he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, he steps back, leaving you shell-shocked and utterly confused.

“In the meantime, make yourself at home. You know where everything is,” he says, brushing past you with an air of finality.

You strain your ears for the noise of a distant door shutting before you make your move, rummaging through his cupboards and drawers for a plate and cutlery. After you’ve scooped a decent helping of food onto your plate, you settle onto one of his velvet couches, cross-legged and shoveling food into your maw.

The fluttering of wings piques your interest. You’ve hardly any time to acknowledge him before a tuft of black, iridescent feathers shines from Sylus’ coffee table. The crow studies you curiously, ingesting you with his beady eyes before he preens himself.

“Me-fith-toe!” you greet around a mouthful of food.

Said crow ducks away, dodging errant crumbs and spit flying from your mouth, cawing in protest. You give him a rueful look.

Sylus has a soft spot for animals. You noted it the first time you entered his apartment, greeted by his boisterous companion. Funny; he doesn’t look like the type to have such an eccentric pet.

But Sylus has found numerous ways of pleasantly surprising you, revealing parts of himself to you bit by agonizing bit.

“Chicken?” you say after finally swallowing, offering a forkful of pasta to the bird. Mephisto scrutinizes the food before resigning himself to pecking at it. You smile fondly, your eyes crinkling with mirth. “Mephisto, you cannibal.”

Lulled by the occasional flap of Mephisto’s wings and Sylus’ even tone murmuring things of business somewhere far off in his home, you fall into a familiar rhythm, quietly waiting for your clothes to dry.

You spend the remainder of your evening in your neighbor’s company, drinking Merlot and judging each other’s music tastes, long after your pajamas have dried and settled in the dryer.

“So, have you boned yet?”

You choke on your waffle. Pound on your chest with the heel of your palm to dislodge it. You turn narrowed eyes on the source of the question. She merely shrugs from across the table, sipping her mimosa as if she’s asked the most innocent thing.

“Bitch.”

“What?” She appears nonplussed, setting her champagne flute down with a definitive clack. All serious when she returns your stare over crossed arms, and you know you’re in for it.

“You talk about the guy so much I figured you would’ve already, ya know…” The humping gesture she makes under the table is a bit much.

You blanch. “No, dumbass, I haven’t boned.” Your voice peters towards the end of your sentence. And you peer down at the napkin folded in your lap, heat prickling your face.

You won’t deny Sylus is good-looking. More like he could be someone modeling Prada on a catwalk. Can’t pretend you haven’t entertained the thought of being a little closer to him, too. More than just the late nights spent talking or him fixing something you broke.

You shake your head. Of all the times you’ve been tucked away in either of your apartments, he’s never made a move on you. Sure, he’s said some pretty suss things. Flirted with you outside of your usual banter.

And maybe he’s done things to confuse the ever-loving hell out of you—cooked you breakfast when you were drunk off your ass and hungover the next morning. Lended you one of his expensive record players. Shacked up at your place a few times under the guise of “coming to get Mephisto.” But—

Nah. He’s not like that. You’re just neighbors, right? Unofficial friends. Friends hang out all the time, right?

“He’s not like that,” you say brattishly, stuffing more food into your face. At least not with you.

You don’t miss your coworker’s fox-like grin spreading in your periphery. She taps her cheek thoughtfully, watching you like a smug sibling about to snitch.

“Sure, sure. If you say so. He’s still a man, though. He might not have tried you yet—”

“Hush,” you interject. The table shakes, cups rattling as you saw into your sausage with your fork and butter knife. You’re done with this conversation.

Try as you might, however, you can’t banish your thoughts revolving around him. Especially with your coworker watching you like that, silently egging you on.

He’s not that kind of guy.

He’s still a man, though.

You’ve repeated it like a mantra throughout your day, even as you mindlessly clacked away at your computer.

Work was a blur. An exhausting blur. Day gave way to the soothing exhale of night, and you were finally nestled in the quiet sanctuary of your apartment, on your couch, entertaining yourself with a game of Uno. It wasn’t much fun playing alone, but you needed a distraction from the mess of your mind when your favorite show couldn’t help.

It’s a quarter past 9 when a shuffling sound in the breezeway outside your apartment catches your attention. It’s accompanied by the echoed rasp of a recognizable voice, chuckling and murmuring indiscernible things.

You peel yourself from your couch as if on autopilot, nose pressed against the cold metal of your door as you peer through the peephole.

It’s your nightly ritual—waiting like an overzealous puppy to greet or send off your neighbor. You don’t always get the luxury of saying goodnight in person. Sometimes, he’s gone for days—weeks—at a time. You don’t know the semantics of his job, but you make it your mission to help assuage whatever burdens he shoulders whenever you can.

He’s there to help you, after all. Whether with a glass of wine, a warm meal, or his company.

So, forgive you for wanting to be a decent neighbor. And you would be tonight if not for the scene that passes through the fisheye of your peephole.

It’s Sylus, clad in something flattering and expensive. There’s no mistaking his broad back and shoulders. The purl of his voice, the wispy dusting of alabaster hair on his collar. But the smaller frame with him, well—

Your heart plummets into your stomach.

She’s pretty from what you can glean from the limited view of your peephole. Donned in a dress that’s form-fitting, voice high and light. Giggling silly things, fastened to Sylus’ side, held there by a virile arm draped around her middle. She’s drunk if the sloppy lean of her body is anything to go by. Sylus angles himself near her ear to whisper something, ushering in a new set of giggles.

You watch with your breath corked in your esophagus until they slide into his apartment together, their enmeshed voices fading from the stilled walls of the hallway.

Huh. Well, so much for him not being that type of guy.

You grapple with this new revelation, a furrow between your brows, hands falling listlessly at your sides. Numb as you drag yourself back to your couch, bouncing comically on the cushions.

You don’t even know why you’re upset. He's a grown man with a…life. You think.

It’s the first time you’ve witnessed him bringing someone to his place other than you, but it’s only natural for a guy like him to have options. He’s far from hideous. Has the gift of gab, for God’s sake. He’s charming and the very definition of masculine.

It just stings a little, knowing that it’s not…you that he’s touching like that.

So, you are definitely not flinging Uno cards onto the coffee table. Muttering things to yourself, gripping the stack in your hands so tightly, the plastic squeaks. What’s even got your undies in a bunch? The man’s not yours. You’ve never screwed around. Never really showed signs of wanting to, so it makes sense he would seek pleasures of the flesh elsewhere. His world doesn’t solely revolve around you as much as you would like for it to.

You’re halfway through a third round of angry card-flinging before a soft rap at your door nearly sends you some 30 feet into the air.

Stomping to your entrance, you peek through the peephole, and your heart works overtime when you catch sight of a wash of black and scarlet.

Internally, you scold yourself for how gullible you are. You throw the door open like you weren’t just cursing him and his stupid existence moments ago. Try to act nonplussed, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe with a haughty look.

Of course, he would smell good. Look good, propped against the threshold like that, an amused cant to his lips, his physique devastating beneath the tight cling of his turtleneck.

“Hey,” he greets, the sound breathy and easy like warmed honey.

“Hey, yourself.”

He studies you for a bit. Eyes flicker over your face, and you tamp down the sparkling rush of warmth that wades over your skin at the attention. Even when you’re mad at him, your attraction still finds an annoying way of creeping through the seams.

“This is going to sound incredibly strange, and feel free to tell me to piss off, but…do you mind if I crash on your couch for the night?”

You stand up straight. Blink owlishly, mouth opening and closing. “Huh?” is all you’re able to muster.

He chuckles, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this side of bashful. “Yeah. It’s a…bit of a long story, sweetie.”

“O-Okay,” you say, rigidly moving aside.

“Thanks.” The charm is back on, turned up to max capacity. He brushes past you into your apartment, falling onto your couch with a huff. Quirks a brow at the mishap on your table, the carnage having spilled onto the floor.

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but were you playing Uno by yourself?”

You ignore him, plopping cross-legged on a floor cushion adjacent to him. Bypassing the tick in your brow, you look off to the side, fighting the embarrassment threatening to take hold of your visage. Shouldn’t he be across the hall, entertaining his company?

“Shut up and grab some cards,” you grumble to dispel the green-eyed thoughts stewing in your mind.

“Bossy.” But he doesn’t contest you, gathering the abused cards to shuffle them.

The remainder of your evening slides by with comfortable quips. With booze and a break to catch up on Love Is Blind—somehow, he’d roped you into watching it.

You had no idea he was such a sap. Nearly forgotten how miffed you were mere hours ago.

He assuaged your worries with an explanation as the sun crept over the city.

The girl in his apartment was an old colleague who’d gotten drunk and convinced herself that she was anything but.

Being a good samaritan, Sylus brought her to his place to sober up since the apartment complex wasn’t too far from the main strip of bars. He didn’t want any issues when she inevitably woke up. Messing with drunk people wasn’t his thing.

So that’s how he ended up here, inhabiting your couch like he’d always been a part of the decor.

He didn’t owe you an explanation. You were just friends. Still, you couldn’t help the quiet smile that twitched your lips after he cleared the air.

At some point in the morning, you both fell asleep. He looked all serene, too big for your sofa, but comfortable. You watched his lashes flutter from your place on the floor, his lips parting with soundless exhales. Even in sleep, he maintained that guarded aura, his arms folded across his chest.

You were bleary-eyed, gathering yourself from the hardwood to fetch a blanket to drape over him. He shifted, and he was so pretty with the sun bathing him in an angelic glow like that, his hair bright like a halo.

You were about to retreat to your bedroom when an abrupt knock tore you from your reverie. You glanced at your guest, ensuring he went undisturbed. He needed the rest. He was a night owl, and something about the sun vexed him, so he typically spent his days sleeping when you weren’t impeding on his time.

You moved to the door, foregoing the peephole to open it. Big mistake.

On the other side stood Little Miss Pretty from the night prior, impatiently tapping her foot. Her hair was flattened on one side, and her dress was askew. By the looks of it, sleep hadn’t been kind to her.

“Hi, good morning,” she sighed, schooling her expression into fake politeness. She straightened herself as best she could, but the white patch of dried slob staining her chin did little to help her plight. You bit back a snicker.

“I’m looking for a friend. He lives across from you. His name’s Skye.”

You quirked a brow at that. Skye? Oh, honey…

You wondered how many other people Sylus had fed a fake alias to. Or if Sylus was even his real name.

“Haven’t seen him,” you chirped over crossed arms. Pulled the door slightly closed behind you, barring the woman from getting a peek at him, nuzzled up so cozily on your couch.

She sighed with slumped shoulders. A childish pout warped her lips. Her voice shifted into something more bratty. “You sure? Tall guy, white hair, red eyes? You can’t miss ‘em.”

“Not ringing a bell, hun. Sorry.”

It was taking all of you to keep up this ruse. You were fighting so hard to tamp down your amusement. This woman reminded you of an antagonist in a Korean drama, the way she was kicking and huffing about.

“Where the hell did he go,” she groused. You watched her draw her phone from the pocket of her fur coat, your throat growing dry.

Your blood turned to ice when a familiar ringtone chimed in your apartment behind you. You stiffened comically; mouth hinged open with shock.

The woman’s expression morphed into one of suspicion. She tried to look inside your home, the upbeat ring of Sylus’ phone still flooding the uncomfortable silence.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to assert her way inside. “What the fu—”

“Hey, girlie. Back the hell off before I call the police,” you warned with a hand pushed to her sternum. She insisted on being unruly, so you snatched your taser from the entryway table, the telltale blue sparks and sharp whip of static causing the woman to jolt back with alarm.

“You’re both insane!” she shouted from the hallway, the stomp of her heels reverberating off the walls as she made her way to the stairwell.

With a relieved sigh deflating your chest, you eased the door shut. Leaned against it, glancing at the man of the hour. He was still fast asleep, his leg dangling off the edge of your sofa. You smirked knowingly, shaking your head as you disappeared into your bedroom.

You’d let him sleep for as long as he needed. And you’d give him shit when he awoke about his taste in acquaintances.

(Sylus): hungry? (You): a little. was gonna make some ramen if you want (Sylus): 🤢 (Sylus): that stuffs terrible for your digestion sweetie. (Sylus): how about i make you dinner instead ? (Sylus): at the supermarket. need anything? (You): 😲😲😲 (You): you keep spoiling me and i might think you like me (Sylus): 😏 (You): nvm. no don’t need anything. lemme know when you’re back (You): i can help with groceries (Sylus): now who likes who? (You): fkdkos (Sylus): ? (You): sorry fat fingers

You have a nasty habit of not using your peephole as of late.

Your apartment came with one for a reason. Sure, your neighborhood’s been pretty tame since you’ve moved here. But that doesn’t mean the occasional weirdo doesn’t slip past security, roaming the halls and startling the other tenants.

You’ve found yourself forgoing the use of it a lot lately, given the only person who typically knocks on your door is the guy across the hall. And he usually calls or texts before he bugs you, but that doesn’t stop him from being spontaneous. You suppose today is one of those such cases after he manipulated you with dinner.

Maybe his hands are full, you muse, unlocking your door. Though you’re doubtful he can’t handle a few bags. You’ve seen him in action at the community gym, thick cords of muscle rippling beneath a tan stretch of skin.

You draw the door open with a smile, expecting to see a customary thatch of white. What confronts you instead sends a tide of dread washing over your innards.

“Oh, thank God you’re home,” breathes a voice you haven’t heard in months. A voice that still makes your body stiffen, and your blood run cold.

When your senses return, you step back into your apartment, thoroughly intending to slam the door in your ex’s face. They’re quicker, however, wedging themselves in the gap before you can shut it. Grabbing for you, a crazed look warping their features.

“Baby, please! Talk to me! I miss you!”

You bat at their hand, trying vainly to crush them, to scare them off. It’s to no avail, and you wonder if they’re coked up, giving you a run for your money as they try to bully their way into your home.

There’s a softball bat propped on the wall, and your fingers brush the base of it in your attempt to grab it. Something to defend yourself since your taser’s out of reach, tucked somewhere in your bag.

The sounds of your struggle intermingle, your voice strained and panting, please please please, and your ex’s caught between sobs of your name.

Just a little further. Just—

Suddenly, there’s no more resistance in your door. You stumble against it, a wild look in your eyes. And then, there is the noise of a brief scuffle. Of a back being shoved against a wall, of rusting plastic bags, of “Who the fuck are you?!”

Amid your panicked frenzy, you glance up to see a back to you. Barring you from the view beyond your threshold, and your body’s awash with relief as you register your savior’s form.

“You would do well to piss off,” seethes Sylus, and there’s an edge to his voice you’ve never heard before. You feel it furling in your stomach, burning your lungs. And in this moment, you don’t know who to be more afraid of.

Your ex makes a sound of protest, but you imagine the cut of Sylus’ eyes deterring them.

There is the scuffling of shoes across the concrete flooring of the breezeway, and you listen with bated breath until the cacophony fades at the foot of the stairs, willing your heart to ease down.

Scarlet eyes shift to you, brows knit with concern. “Who was that?” Sylus asks, tone cautious as if he doesn’t want to startle you more than you’ve already been.

You right yourself, smoothing out the wrinkles of your clothes. Finally grab your bat, waving it intimidatingly as you step aside to let your neighbor in.

“My stupid ex. Just know you saved their life. ‘cause I was gonna—” You make swinging gestures, the metal bat swooping in the air. The corners of Sylus’ eyes crinkle.

“Slow down before you hurt yourself.” He kneels to retrieve the bags he’d tossed down in his haste to intervene. You scurry over to help, gathering up spilled food.

Once you’re both inside, the bags placed haphazardly on the counter, you’re seated on your sofa, nursing the rush of adrenaline still spuming through you like the hot rush of a geyser.

“You need to get a restraining order,” says Sylus. He emerges from your kitchen with a tense set to his jaws, two bottles of Angry Orchard clasped between his fingers.

Plopping down beside you, an arm draped over the headrest, he shoves a bottle into your hand, side-eyeing you as he throws his head back for a swig.

You babysit the cider, the crisp condensation of it serving to ground you. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I’m not asking, sweetie.”

You bristle under the weight of his tone, feeling much like a scolded child. You know this. Should’ve done it long ago the first time your ex took it upon themselves to do surprise pop-ups at your place—at your job.��

“And an alarm system.”

“I know, I know.”

“I can take you right now to look for one—”

“I got it, Sy! Fuck, I-I got it.” You release a weighted sigh, warring with yourself.

Not only do you feel silly for being so lackadaisical with your life. But now, you feel even worse for the seemingly impenetrable silence that settles between you. You didn’t mean to yell, frustration and adrenaline having burbled to the surface. He was just worried. No need to take your emotions out on him.

Sylus exhales slowly, an unreadable expression descending onto his face whilst staring at the wall.

“Sorry,” you murmur, unconsciously patting his quad. You don’t miss how he stiffens; don’t miss the tight coiling of tendons in his neck. You retract your hand, instead drumming your fingers along the bottom of your bottle.

“I’m assuming this isn’t the first time this has happened,” queries Sylus in an attempt to dispel the tense atmosphere.

You shake your head, shrinking into yourself. Stare at your lap, pulling at some frayed threads in your bottoms.

“How did they even manage to get up here?”

You shrug. The security guards at the gates aren’t always the most attentive. Besides, sometimes, the pin pad leading into the lobby malfunctions, making it easier for anyone to just slip into your complex.

Unprompted, you begin to bare yourself, explaining the possibilities of why your ex showed up.

Sylus listens attentively. Doesn’t interrupt you, watching the subtle shifts of your expressions as you speak.

You tell him that things weren’t bad in the beginning about two years ago. How your ex said and did all the right things, and they were wonderful. But they wanted something you weren’t ready for. You had some growing up to do, so you broke things off. Moved to another city, started a new job.

You didn’t bank on them following you.

The visits were random at first. Occasional run-ins at the park, the bar. Things soon blossomed into something more concerning when your ex found your new address after you relocated to another part of the city to ease the stress of the commute.

This was their second time making an appearance at your door. You knew you should’ve done something to protect yourself sooner, but you didn’t think much of it then. Figured they would live and let be. Today proved otherwise.

“You’re grossly naive, sweetie.”

You snort before gulping down the remnants of your cider. “Way to make me feel better.”

He chuckles, and it’s comforting, your thighs pressing together amid your dinky couch. “It’s what I’m here for. But I could understand how you could drive someone to such extremes.”

You glare at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means…”

Before you know what’s about, he’s panning in, flooding your vision with the scarlet shine of his eyes. With the wispy dance of his lashes until his breath fans over your molten cheeks. Limber fingers sneak beneath your chin, slightly tilting your head back.

Warmth wades over you. Your breath swells in your chest. Lips purse as a mysterious shade of burgundy leaks over his irises. His voice drops a few octaves, husky, the sound of it pinching in your stomach.

“It means that you’re someone worth fighting for.”

You scoff, shaking yourself away from his hold. Ignore the bashfulness creeping into your face in favor of being a cheeky little shit.

“All right, Li Shang. Getting a little too serious over there.”

He huffs a laugh in response, popping up to grab another round of ciders from your fridge.

Ingredients sat untouched on the countertop as your evening eased by. You’d settled on a pizza, catching up on shows and talking, long after the moon had pinned itself to the center of the sky.

Sylus promised to teach you how to use a gun. He had plenty and would carve out time in his schedule to take you to a range. He didn’t press much after, instead letting the weight of your evening melt from your shoulders.

He was reluctant to leave you, even after sunbeams spilled through your blinds and you snoozed so quietly, cheek propped against his shoulder.

His hand never left your thigh. Possessive in its touch as he mirrored your affections from before.

It’s strange.

Today is your birthday. You’re enjoying yourself, filled with enough alcohol to tranquilize a small goat.

Your co-workers had dragged you out. Surprised you with dinner, a cake. Took you to the strip of bars lining the streets adjacent to your apartment complex. You were all smiles until your cheeks ached, and you’d nearly thrown up from laughing so much.

Still, you feel…empty. Like something is missing. Or someone.

You look at your phone for the umpteenth time. Scroll through your messages, reliving the moment in your head.

Sylus was the first to wish you a happy birthday. It made you swell with overwhelming happiness, knowing he’d woken up so early to be the first to say it. You don’t think you’ve ever cried harder when he sent a voice message of him singing “Happy Birthday.”

God, for everything he was good at, poor baby couldn’t hold a note to dig himself out of a hole. Still, you cherished the gesture, lying in bed for the first hour you’d been awake, replaying said message and rolling around your bed like an enamored teen.

Even now, you replay the voice note, holding the speaker to your ear. It’s hard to hear it amid the live band playing and the merriment around you at the bar. Try as you might to enjoy what remains of your night, you can’t keep your thoughts from drifting back to a certain smug figure clad in black.

(You): 🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛💥💥💥 (Sylus): hows it going birthday babe? (You): 😭😭😭 (You): u shuld be her e (Sylus) im sorry sweetie. i had some work to catch up on. (Sylus): you must be having a good time. 😏 (You): fuk wrk 🖕🖕🖕 (You): am not drink ur dronk (Sylus): lol. you sound plastered. (Sylus): do i need to come rescue you? (You): hum (Sylus): ? (You): hone (You): home (Sylus): 🫤 (Sylus): we need to have a serious talk about you enabling autocorrect. (You): r u (You): home (Sylus): about to be. why ?? (Sylus): sweetie?

Somehow, you find yourself staring at the glossy, black numbers embossed on the top center of his door. 302. It’s ingrained in your memory. You’d probably find your way to his apartment with your eyes closed, driven to it by the familiar smell and homeliness it exudes.

You’re still a little tipsy. Took some time to sober up as best you could before ditching your friends and catching an Uber back to your complex. You had enough sense to gather everything you’d shown up with. Didn’t hitch a ride with any strangers regardless of how many of them tried to pull you into their arms as you stumbled out of the bar.

You had a one-track mind. Only wanted to spend the rest of your birthday with him.

With a goofy smile plastered on your face, you knock on his door. You’re singing that infectious song you can’t get out of your head when it swings open.

“Apateu-pateu, apateu-pateu,” you chant, shaking your hips from side to side.

He greets you with an omniscient smirk, eyes softening whilst leaning against the doorframe. “Well, hello, birthday babe.”

“Sup!” you return a little too enthusiastically, pitching forward until Sylus steadies you with his hands. You giggle like a drunken fool, peering at him. Hadn’t realized how good his hands felt, searing through the fabric of your top.

Come to think of it, you hadn’t noticed many things about him before. His lips are a pretty shade of pink. Skin textured, nose sharp, cheeks high. Little flecks of amber dwell between the scarlet rinse of his eyes. His hair falls into his face, damp from the shower he probably had before answering the door.

“I take it you had a good night,” he says, gaze painting a steady triangle between your eyes and mouth.

“Almost,” you whisper back, surprised by the huskiness of your voice. You lose yourself in the idle stir of his eyes. In the fragility of his smile, and you feel so safe in his hands like this.

You don’t know what compels you to do it. To conquer the space of hot, dizzying breaths between you. But, you sort of…well…

Your inhibitions hit the floor. With your fingers wrapped tenderly around his wrists, you angle yourself closer to kiss him. You almost pull away when he stiffens. But he seemingly relaxes, and his lips cautiously move against yours as he unconsciously guides you closer.

You cling to the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He encircles your waist in his powerful arms, fastening you to the hard press of his body. He kisses you like he’s waited lifetimes to do it, one hand molding around the apple of your cheek.

When your tongue sloppily prods the barrier of his teeth, he bristles. Draws away from you with a resounding smack, blinking wildly. You’re confused. Your heart sinks. You try again to draw him back in, but he gently pushes you away, shaking his head to dispel the bleariness. To chase away the spell that’s fallen over you.

“Baby, wait. No. Not…not like this,” he rasps through kiss-swollen lips, holding you by your hips. You’re wounded. A hot flush of embarrassment washes over you, and your brows knit together like those of a confused puppy.

“Wha-what’s wrong? Did I—am I—”

“No, no, you’re…you're perfect,” he soothes with a chuckle, a thumb gliding over your bottom lip. “Beautiful, even. I just…I don’t think now is a good time to do this.”

“Oh.” You deflate, a scorching film of tears clouding your vision. “Oh, okay. Um, I’ll just—yeah, I’ll go. I’ll…see you around, I guess.”

You slide out of his arms, too mortified to look back as you fumble with your keys. After he murmurs a hoarse, “good night.” Did you misread him before? Misinterpret his actions, his words?

You’re numb as you sink into your couch. Sobriety slowly creeps in. Stray tears blister your cheeks, but you don’t full-on sob. Can’t bring yourself to, instead laughing hysterically with your face buried in your hands, swallowed by the bleak loneliness of your apartment.

Happy Birthday, indeed.

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #neighbor au #neighbors to friends #friends to lovers #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #qin che #sylus fluff #sylus romance #lnds x reader #love and deepspace fic #gn reader

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disneyprincemuke · 11 months ago

Text

ღ this barbie’s teammate is a schumacher

notes: hello gays it is i, finally writing for barbie

she closes the car door and sighs with a small smile, looking at the building ahead of her. this will be her life until she decides otherwise. she shoves her car keys into her purse and watches curiously as another supercar pulls into the empty lot next to her.

is that who she thinks it is?

she takes a step towards her car, watching the car be parked into the slot flawlessly. she tilts her head when it comes to a stop, the driver's side opening to reveal its driver.

"oh!" she shrieks, running around the front of her car to approach the young man. "mick schumacher, right? i am such a big fan! i'm so excited to finally be working with you!"

the german takes a step back, overwhelmed by the sudden presence of the girl in pink approaching him. she has a pair of sunglasses resting on the top of her head, a fur coat on and a purse hanging off her elbow.

"oh, hi," mick smiles politely. he's not a mean person; he's just a little more introverted than the next guy. "i'm glad to be with honda this year. i'm looking forward to spending the year with you."

he was in deep thought before she came up to him. he wondered, as the way he's been doing for years, if the rumours that he'd been scouted for the second seat at the request of his boss's daughter. but who is he to complain; he's racing in f1 again. does it matter how he got back into it?

surely not.

but this girl that stands in front of him – could she be an intern? she looks fairly young, very enthusiastic, and a glimmer of hope in her eyes that he doesn't see from individuals his age often. perhaps a marketing intern.

"alright, well, i'll see you inside! i love the sweater, by the way!" she shrieks, waving at him with a wide smile. she waves at him as she walks away, cautiously crossing the parking lot as the rest of the cars for the day start to roll in. "and the car! you have to give me a tour someday!"

he waves back at her in confusion, only able to mutter a 'goodbye' to himself as she disappears into the big front doors of the building. he locks his car and follows her in the direction she left, ready to start his new year with a new team.

he spends the next 10 minutes navigating the new factory he'll be frequenting from now on. introducing himself to people, familiarising himself with the engineers he'll be working closely with, and other members of the team. it's a surprisingly bigger team than he had initially thought, so it takes him longer than he expected.

about 20 minutes introducing himself and trying to pin names with the new faces. then he ends up in a quiet office, shaking his leg in anticipation as he awaits his first face-to-face meeting with his new teammate and his boss.

he hears clicks of heels right by the door, prompting him to sit up a little straighter as he glances behind him quickly. he straightens his sweater, pulls his sleeves down and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. he can't screw himself over.

"i'm telling you, daddy, he's got the coolest car! i saw him in the parking lot earlier!" the door opens, revealing two figures with two familiar faces. which, shouldn't be the case, because this is the first time he's meeting his teammate.

"do you want one, honey?"

"no, that's so silly! i love my car!" she giggles, before abruptly stopping at the sight of his wide blue eyes staring at her in disbelief. "my car is perfectly fine! right, mick?"

mick blinks, swallowing the forming lump of guilt in his throat. he had no idea that the girl in the parking lot was going to be his teammate eventually.

oh god, and for him to assume that she's a marketing or pr intern? how humiliating. how would he feel if someone were to think that of his sister was a mere backend worker when she is something more?

"yes," he answers by default, not really remembering what she was asking him. he immediately pushes himself up to his feet and extends a hand to her first. "i'm sorry. i don't believe i got your name in the parking lot – i didn't know you were going to be my teammate. i'm so sorry."

"oh, don't worry about it. it happens a lot." she introduces herself before quickly walking away, running over to the empty seat next to him.

mick huffs, grinning at her father before he takes a seat. but the entire time, all he can think of is how embarrassed he is for misjudging her. "you don't care that i didn't take you for a driver at first?"

she looks off blankly, pressing her lips together before shaking her head. she turns to him again. "it's not like i told you," she grins. "anyway, do you like japanese curry? that's my favourite – i'll make you some when we meet again for pre-season."

taglist: @cashtons-wife @darleneslane @namgification @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @angsthology @renarots @elliegrey2803 @cha-hot @cosmoscoffeee @fanficweasley @sugarhoneylemons @aquangxl @omgsuperstarg @strawberryubin @lovecarsgoingvroom @mangotaitai @cherry-piee @ladyladybuggg @lethalvenus @gentlyweeps-world @spilled-coffee-cup @charizznorizz @wcnorris @storminacloud @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @leilanixx @daniellef89x @fezlvr @lavisenri @xcharlottemikaelsonx @ultraviolencesam @selsbackyard @ilove-tswizzle @riddle-me-im-sirius @kindestofkings

#mick schumacher x reader #fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #formula 1 fanfic #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke sd

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winterzsurprise · 4 months ago

Text

Change My Mind [2]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 8.6k

I posted this a day later than the one on ao3 because I forgor :''DD

Seeing the support and comments from both website got me off my ass to fix the storyline, even made a lot of changes on the chapters I've had preserved.

this chapter got rewritten a LOT, and was longer than it initially was so I hope y'all don't mind long chapters.

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

__________

There's been times where your heart has truly fluttered for a man throughout your lifetime. Too many times has it been because some of your bosses (read: Jimin) flirted with you but you have never felt anything remotely giddy for anyone else outside the group.

Except for the man now sitting in front of you, flashing you a dimpled smile after handing out his card with an ease you only see in your friends and male leads in dramas. An action more attractive than any kabaedon or flexed muscles.

He's attractive but you don't like like him.

Yoo Guwon came to you as a bashful giant, rubbing the back of his head whenever he’s flustered and a constant sheepish smile featuring his deep set of dimples indented on both cheeks. He’s charming and articulate with his words just like a lawyer would be. Everything about him reminds you of another gentle and clumsy giant probably hunched over his music equipment back in the BigHit building.

It’s only been a few hours but you surprisingly covered most of the basic grounds of first meeting conversations during the short time you drove around Han River in a two seated bicycle. From the meager questions of ‘what dreams do you have?’ to the more complex and deeper ‘If the world falls into ruin, will you burn my body when I die?’.

Too graphic for a first date but you wanted to test the waters and you concluded that he’s too perfect.

He knows the right words to say, the proper way to act and it makes you suspicious. Your mother has never recommended you to a good guy before, having a track record of ten shitty suitors who all ran their mouths about their mediocre achievements, and dared to ask you about your purity before ranting about how dirty you are for not saving yourself for your husband the moment they find out you're not a virgin anymore. Then all of a sudden, she led you to good boy Guwon.

And it makes your skin crawl.

What did that woman eat? Has your father fed her something bad this time? What is she planning? It’s scary how she has finally advocated for an actual nice guy.

After taking you to a museum you're sure Namjoon has visited once, he drove you both to the Han River to rent a double seated bike to drive around with before ending the night with a nice reservation somewhere in the Seocho district.

The place is as sophisticated as fine dining areas usually are. With an intimate lighting, marbled tabletops matched with soft cushioned seats and high ceilings to make space for modern glass chandeliers, the restaurant was no doubt expensive, the type you have to reserve a spot two months prior to be able to experience its greatness. The point was driven home when you saw the amount of zeros it cost for one can of soda.

You asked him how he managed to get a table and he went down the rabbit hole of the many advantages he got from successful cases, ranging from a free monthly subscription to fruit baskets to a free week-long voucher to a five star hotel somewhere in Busan.

Going back to the butterflies, while not as wild as it got when Hoseok possessively wrapped an arm thrown around your waist to pretend as your boyfriend to ward off a persistent suitor, they're there, albeit subtle.

Very subtle.

Maybe it's in the way he didn't think twice to hand out his card towards the waiter in the most suave way with the thick golden watch decorating his wrist, sleeves neatly folded up to reveal the thick cords of veins on his forearms with his hair strewn messily and a dimpled smile that made you react like that.

You ignore the voice comparing his uncannily similar traits to someone else.

Meeting Guwon wasn't like how the movies illustrated love at first sights. They talked of fireworks exploding in the background and hearing the sweet chimes of wedding bells upon eye contact but for him, it's just that. A meeting far more formal than you'd like. He has a lot of qualities that check your list of husband material traits yet instead of butterflies, you could only feel an echoing hollowness in your chest as you listen to him list out his future plans.

It felt like surrendering to the fate the divinities had weaved out for you which is being an untethered forced to love someone you don't even feel any spark with.

He's a nice man who’s offering a comfortable future and you're just a woman who wishes to live a lavish life at home while your husband wastes his years away in the office. You might be a hopeless romantic who wished for soulmates and the like but you're not blind to the opportunity Guwon offers you.

You haven't texted the gc anything during the date other than the selfie you took before you left for the date but there's been constant vibrations in your purse and it's no doubt the guys asking for updates but for a moment you wanted to try to focus on the man before you.

Not that it wasn't hard to try with Guwon anyways.

Whenever the man spoke of his achievements and hobbies with a humble approach, he never forgot to ask you for your opinion or input on the topic. You also noted how he has never cut you off and let you speak whenever you wanted, listening with an eagerness only your friends usually show. He asked relevant questions with a genuine curiosity, eager to know more about you.

So when he asked if you wanted to go on a second date that night, it came to no surprise for anyone when you accepted it albeit the heaviness in your heart.

It was funny how eagerly you searched for a husband you could bring to your parents' doorsteps but the moment someone with all the qualities you seeked came, it felt disappointing. Boring even.

But you can learn, this man is your ticket to living without working anymore.

It came to no one's surprise that your mother was overjoyed, she wasted no time calling you before you could even change to squeeze the memory of today out of you.

The shrill scream of victory she let out that night was unforgettable because finally, a suitor you actually liked. Your dad even congratulated her off-screen for her matchmaking achievements before telling you to bring Guwon home to meet them.

Logically, you’re aware you've won the love roulette—Guwon has it all, he checked every box on your list, yet it felt like defeat and it tasted foul, bitter on your tongue.

You couldn't tell them that it was you deciding to settle, that would break her heart.

Tapping the end call button felt like the dam breaking and all the water held onto for so long flowed out. You fall lifelessly on your bed with a heavy sigh. Taking a couple evening breaths, you finally opened the group chat with an overwhelming number of unread messages.

[Today, 08:49]

[08:49] Mimi: I'd run my bank dry to take you on dates if you'd dress so pretty like that, noona~

[08:49]Tete: We're really seeing this for free when the poor guy has to pay for it. #livingapriviledgedlife😁👍

[08:49] Hobi: Wow noona🤯

[08:50] Yoongs: 👍

[08:55] Tete: Wait, I don't think those shoes fit you, go back home and change it😁

[08:56] Jinnie: Hey, you're showing too much skin on the first date! Go back and change!

[08:57] Joonie: Ignore these haters noona, I hope you enjoy your day😊

[Today, 21:48]

[21:48] Jinnie: are you home yet? You haven't seen our messages in HOURS.

[21:48] Tete: NOONA DID YOU GET MURDERED?!😱

[21:50] Joonie: Let's be rational guys, don't jump to conclusions. The date might just be going great if she's busy enough to not check her phone😊.

[21:51] Mimi: doing great? don't scare me like that hyung😵‍💫

[21:51] Tete: BUT WHAT IF SHE GOT KIDNAPPED HYUNG????

[21:51] Hobi: please reply soon, we're worried🥲

Jungkook's absence from the conversation didn't come to you as a shock, the kid doesn't even reply to you for a week despite being one of the people who raised him. Nonetheless, you sat up from your bed to record a quick video of you giving them a thumbs up and turning the camera to show your room.

The latter was an assurance to Taehyung that no, you also didn't get kidnapped into someone else's house to be someone's housekeeper, and no, it wasn't a clone either.

The moment your message gets sent, the replies blow up your phone almost instantaneously.

[22:28] Mimi: noona you're alive!

[22:28] Joonie: How did the date go?😊

[22:28] Jinnie: how nice of you to remember to update us PEASANTS.

[22:28] Mimi: How was Guwon?

[22:29] Tete: I KNEW WE SHOULD'VE WENT WITH YOU ANYWAYS

[22:29] You: Shockingly, he's a pretty nice guy. Not too bad on the eyes, and pretty smart. I think you'd get along well with him, joon. He's a lawyer so he covered most of the expenses today😁

[22:29] You: Overall, it was great, we're gonna go on a second one. He's pretty cool.

Instantly, messages from the members, even Jungkook’s to your surprise, flooded your screen.

[22:30] Tete: Noona you've been cursed! We need to bring you to the nearest shaman to break it!!

[22:30] Mimi: don't joke with us noona

[22:30] Mimi: I just got goosebumps!

[22:30] Joonie: Congratulations are in order then? Will we be expecting him around you soon?

[22:31] Yoongs: I need to meet him, need to know if he's good enough

[22:31] Yoongs: men are trash, I need to see him for myself before I decide

[22:32] Yoongs: and you know what they say about lawyers, they LIE. I wouldn't trust him

[22:32] Jinnie: WE need to meet the man who managed to steal your heart! I want to talk to him😊

[22:32] Mimi: don't use that emoji again, hyung

[22:32] Hobi: SCARY JWANN😱

[22:32] Joonie: Let’s not threaten anyone please.

[22:32] Joonie: But I'm really happy for you 😁.

[22:33] Tete: Those periods really scares me hyung…

[22:33] Tete: Somehow, I don't think you mean it…

[22:33] Joonie: What makes you think that, tae?😁.

[22:33] Tete: 😰

[22:34] Ggukie: a few drinks will fix you up, noona😁

[22:34] Mimi: you'll invite me this time right?

[22:34] You: I don't know, you already used your mischief hours this week, I doubt Sejin would be so kind next time.

[22:34] Hobi: if he does that right now during practice, I also wouldn't be so kind to him😊

[22:34] Mimi: you are scaring me hyung…

[22:34] Hobi: good😊

[22:34] Tete: Hyung, are you just gonna ignore Jungkook leaving?!?!!?

The messages continued for a good five minutes, mostly consisting of holding Jimin back from leaving practice and him sending pictures of the infamous Hoseok death glare from across the room before your doorbell chime rang, making you shoot up straight.

A beat. Then it continues in three quick successions, the knocks almost in sing-song and sounded like two hands were used to produce the tune, giving you an inkling on who might be visiting you at this late hours of night.

Padding out of your room, the front door suddenly swings open without warning and you yelp. By the doorsteps stands the intruder, a tall man in a black coat with his face hidden by a mask and a cap. Your body would've frozen a thousand times over if you didn't know this stranger who's hugging two paper bags, one overflowing with snacks and the other a breeze away from tearing apart from the weight and water drenching the material of the bag.

"Hi noona!"

After today, seeing Jungkook felt like a cure, his presence alone repelling the heaviness in your shoulders and you ushered him inside and he wandered into your home with ease, approaching the coffee table to place down the shopping bags.

Suddenly you remembered what he had scheduled prior.

"You're putting me on Hoba’s punishment rotation, what are you doing here?"

He giggled. “We both know he won't, hyung loves you more than me.”

He falls on your couch with the ease of someone who has visited your space numerous times throughout the years, propping up his feet on the back support and folding his arms underneath his head before staring up at you, expectantly.

"Anyways, I brought us food and drinks, don't I deserve a little praise?"

Sometimes it's easy to forget how young Jungkook really is, forced to grow and act mature to blend in with his surroundings, you've always seen him stand with pride alongside his hyungs. Seeing him awaiting for your praise so eagerly like a pup fills your heart with awe.

"Yeah yeah, good job. Now move over, let me sit down."

You tapped his arm, motioning him to move over so you could sit next to him, something he obeyed without resistance, busying himself in removing the contents from the soiled paper bag instead.

“Couldn't you have put some effort into it? At least sound grateful.” He pouts. Placing down the cluster of beer cans, you turned to him and pinched his cheeks.

“Oh my dearest darling, thank you for saving this noona of yours. Such an amazing baby I have here.”

Despite being the one who asked for it, Jungkook only rolled his eyes with a barely held back grin as he slapped your hands away, making you laugh, and turned to the bag holding the snacks he bought. You didn't miss the redness dusting his cheeks or the cheeky grin that tugged his lips wide as he spilled the contents of the last bag onto the table.

There's a significant amount of sweets and snacks laid before you, as well as stacks of canned beers and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

"Wouldn't this ruin your diet?"

He waved you off with a huff. "I work out enough to eat all of these in one sitting."

Instantly, your mind brings you back to white walls and gray furniture, faced with manager Sejin who warned you about interfering with the idols' diet at the start of your career. If it wasn't for Bang PD waving off their concerns, saying they needed to be rewarded for their hard work anyways, you would've been long booted out of the company.

It's a matter long settled yet it remains to weigh heavily in your head.

Seeing the hesitation in your eyes, Jungkook continues.

"I can show you proof of my efforts,"

He then reached down to the fabric of his shirt tucked into his jeans and tugged it up, flashing you the tightly corded muscles in forming on his abdomen and the thin happy trail you often see when patting his sweat down during concerts and you hastily pulled it back down with a yelp, cheeks growing hot while he laughed.

As he throws his head back in his mirth, you couldn't help but notice the way adulthood has taken away the fullness of his cheeks and has sharpened his features. A far cry from the sensitive young boy who cried his eyes out every time his hyungs got hurt.

There was no denying that Jungkook had grown without you noticing and it makes your chest swell with pride knowing he's been raised well by the others, in extension, although not so much, you as well.

"Don't worry so much about me, noona. I can handle the consequences now, you leave the reprimanding to me."

Under the warm overhead light of your living room, even with the exaggerated puff of his chest and his nose turnt up high, Jungkook's shoulder had never looked sturdier, reliable, in your eyes. You smiled, reaching to pinch both his cheeks making him grin wider than he already was.

"Look at you acting so cool, when did you grow so much?"

He rolled his eyes, pulling your hands away from his cheeks and entangling it with his. “I've always been cool, you just don't pay attention to me, noona.”

Before you could reply, he's already moved to reach for the beverages on the coffee table, popping two of them open and handing you one can, immediately you take a swig.

The beer fizzled in your tongue and left a trail of burns down your throat. The sensation is refreshing nonetheless and you place it down next to him before picking up the large bags of chips and standing up.

"I'll go put these in a bowl, go put something on the tv."

"Can I play anime?"

You waved at him dismissively, unable to find it in yourself to say no to him as you head towards your kitchen to transfer the junk into a bowl when a shrill tune from your bedroom cuts through the air, someone was calling you. You look over to Jungkook, scrolling through his phone, no doubt looking for a movie online.

"Gguk, can you pick up the call for me? My hands are busy right now."

There's a shuffle of feet behind you and in a moment, your phone quietens down. Finished with filling one bowl, you turn to find Jungkook leaving your room with a deep look and your phone in hand. His jaw set tight as he stood there with furrowed brows, eyes lit with irritation.

Looking at his reaction, you asked about your mysterious caller.

"Who was it?"

When he turned to you, the tick in his jaw dispersed. All of a sudden, he's smiling at you with mischief twinkling in his eyes, the change giving you a whiplash.

"It was the others, didn’t answer their calls cause I want you for myself tonight, noona."

(Later on, you'd find yourself staring at the many unread messages and two missed calls from Guwon, wondering in your drunken state if you've muted your phone at some point earlier.)

Hearing it from his lips now, your body locks, heart stuttering in your chest and butterflies exploding in your stomach, spreading a tingly feeling throughout your body and you laugh.

"Where did you hear that line from, brat? You just activated my fight or flight!"

"Taehyung says that and gets thanked but when I do it, I'm punished?" He pouts, stomping as he approaches the island counters and crossing his arms on the marble surface.

It reminded you of a bunny you saw from a video on the internet, angrily thumping their feet at their owner when it was being purposely ignored.

“In his defense, he does it while he’s acting like my crazy ‘exes’ and saves me from dates.”

“That’s just favoritism! I saved you once from a date!”

You threw him a deadpan stare. "Throwing me over your shoulders and kidnapping me isn’t the same as Tae and Jimin acting crazy enough to make the other guy uncomfortable to save me.”

Hoseok had your favorite troublemakers kneeled on the floor with both their hands up and facing the wall at the time, punishing them for being an hour late to their practice. He had called you in, asking if they had been accompanying you during —they weren’t.

Long story short, you didn't risk sharing Hoseok’s wrath with the two and took Jungkook instead, a decision you quickly regretted later on in the night when instead of approaching to act like one of your exes when you gave him a signal, he hoisted you up onto his shoulder and ran away while your date only watched in terror.

“Now that’s blatant favoritism! I didn’t kidnap you, we ran away together into the sunset! It was romantic!"

"Not for the other guy, no! He was shitting bricks when he called my mom. She got me squatting the entire afternoon when we met again."

Mentioning it alone made phantom pains throb in your knees and thighs, you shivered. If torture wasn't a socially unacceptable and punishable offense in the modern world, you were sure your mother would have stripped you down to your underwear and made you squat under the sun in front of your family house instead.

The absolute fury she unleashed on you that day is enough proof that she would've done it with no hesitation if it was lawfully appropriate.

"That's too much for a failed date."

"No reason to dwell on it. Main point is, don't take notes from dramas anymore."

With a last roll of his eye, Jungkook then picked up the bowls and brought them to the coffee table following you who had returned to your seat ahead of him. Once the two of you are situated back on the couch, he navigates through the streaming app for an interesting title before eventually settling on the romance anime he claimed to have heard amazing reviews about.

Without hesitation, Jungkook navigates himself into a familiar between your legs and leaned back on your chest, head finding his rightful space under your chin with a precision gained from doing so for years.

It goes without saying that Bangtan is affectionate. With the pressure they had during their rise to fame, it wasn't shocking that they comfortably seeked each other's comfort and spared no skinship. As one of the only staff within constant exposure that's close to their age, you too became one of their pillars of serenity.

It was the reason you had crushes on everyone at least twice during your time as their make-up artist, not that any of the boys knew nor does it matter.

Stability and work takes precedence over something as shaky as love.

There's only so much comfort another man can offer, your mother says from years before.

Jungkook more than anyone else in the group.

As a boy who sacrificed his childhood and time with his parents to pursue his dream, you felt more inclined to watch over him than the others who were adults by the time you joined. You were there for his first heartbreak, his first drink, his high school graduation; the point is, you were there and you held him every time he struggled with problems—mostly girl problems—he's too shy to seek his hyungs for.

But now with his growth spurt, cuddling up to you like he used to when he was younger with his gangly legs awkwardly hanging from the couch, carelessly leaning his head in between the mounds of your breast while his large hand mindlessly drew circles on your knee, you found yourself wondering about the appropriateness of it all.

A man and a woman alone in a room at night in close proximity, body leaning against each other. Society would argue they wouldn’t end the night as friends anymore after the encounter.

You paused mid-drink and grimaced.

It must be the beer talking.

"Noona."

"Yeah?"

"Wrap your arms around me, it's cold."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "It's not though? I always keep my house warm."

He let out an exasperated groan before reaching behind to grab your arm and roughly slinging it on his shoulders.

As time continued its cycle and episodes started to fly across the screen, the pile of opened beer cans on the table expanded. You really tried to focus on the movie but the feeling of his fingers tracing stars on your bare thigh left you oddly bothered. Jungkook has shifted his position higher at some point during the movie, his body now turned sideways, successfully squeezing himself into the small space between you and the back of the couch, legs entangling itself with yours while an arm is thrown across your body.

This position puts his nose closer to your ears and it makes you shiver. The feel of his hot breath fanning across your skin has given you more goosebumps in under an hour more than you've had throughout your life.

Even drunk, you could feel the building tension thickening around you and the will to tell him to off ebbs away with every caress of his fingers.

Gone were the innocent traces of stars and hearts on your thigh, his hand now grabbed onto your waist almost possessively, thumb rolling slow circles on your bare stomach; the motion conjuring the most unholiest of thoughts known to mankind.

When the credits started rolling, you knew you had to draw the line before you lost yourself to intoxicated thoughts and end the night with regrets.

"Time for you to go home now, your hyungs must be looking for you."

You tried prying his hand from your waist so you could reach for your phone on the table only for him to tighten around you, stopping you from moving away. He groaned, head nuzzling closer into your neck and his lips grazed your skin.

Instantly, electric jolts shoot through your body.

"Jungkook, I need to get my phone and tell someone to fetch you from here."

"Can't I just stay the night? I'm too comfortable right now…"

The gruff in his voice and the sensation of his lips moving on your skin has your stomach fluttering and you're too drunk to address the growing heat in your abdomen but thanked the sense of professionalism seeping through the fogs of your intoxicated mind.

Managing to pry him off, you reached for your phone and opened up SMS to tell Jin to pick their youngest up.

[01:21] You: Jwannn

[01:21] You: can you pick up your kid from my house? He's drunk and stinkyyy

[01:23] Jinnie: your knight in shining armor is on the way!

“Just let me stay the nighttt,” he whined into your skin.

"I don't have any more spare beds other than this couch for you to sleep in, Gguk. I turned the other room into a closet, remember?"

"I can just sleep with you on the bed, we used to do that, didn't we?"

He attempted to reach around you again but you pushed his limbs away once more before slapping his arm.

You tried not noticing how thicker and harder the muscles felt, you really did.

"But it's different now, Gguk. Come on, go wash up and drink water, I've already told someo—"

The moment you rose to stand, his arms shot around your waist in record speed and pulled you flush to his front, nuzzling his nose on the back of your neck before he sighed. When the first hot exhale hits your skin, you flinch away but the limbs wounded tightly around your middle restrict you from moving.

You try to ignore the heat simmering under your skin but it was hard when you felt the press of his plush lips on your nape as he leans closer into your skin.

“You always smell so nice, noona.” He whispered breathily, the sensation of his moving mouth sending shivers down your spine and you shivered.

“I-I can give you my lotion brand later, let me go so I can get it.”

“But I'm comfortable here…”

Mustering every strength left in your body, you manage to pull an arm out of the death grip he had on your body and slapped his hand. Jungkook easily ignores it.

“Come on Gguk, let me out now. This isn't appropriate.”

"How is it different now?"

The alcohol intoxicating your system loosened your grip on your inhibitions and your lips regrettably moved faster than your brain.

"You're a man now, Gguk. Honestly, we shouldn't be even doing this right now. It's inappropriate."

You try to stand once more, managing to pry him from your waist and standing up before his arms hooked around you once more and tugging you back down, this time on his lap as he burrows his head onto your back.

"Gguk?"

"Yo-you see me as a man, noona?"

As a child your mother has taught you how words could heavily influence and drastically change a situation, now as an adult, you've mastered the art of speech. But as you sit still on his thighs, body warm and inhibitions blurred by the alcohol, your loose lips have led you back to the very thing you try to avoid.

"It's hard not to think so when you've grown up this much."

In a flash, Jungkook is now hovering over your face as he places you back down on the couch, his nose a hair's width from touching yours and his hands planted on each side of your head.

There's a feral hunger swimming in his eyes as it stared into yours, desperate and intense before it fell to the plush of your parted lips and his gaze darkens. All of a sudden, you're a prey pinned down by an apex predator who's ready to devour you at any given moment.

Fire alarms blared in your mind and you regained control over your senses.

“Jungkook.”

"Noona."

You tried wriggling out of his grasp but it was no use, he's stronger. "Get off of me, kid."

“How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a kid anymore?”

“I'm not hearing anything out when you're acting like this, Gguk.”

He scoffed. “I just want to sleep here, in the same bed, nothing else is gonna happen. Why is it such a bad thing?”

“It's different now, Gguk. Come on, let me go.”

“How is it so different? You and Jimin hyung cuddle sometimes, I've seen you fall asleep next to Hobi hyung once, why is it different with me?”

“It's different because we're both drunk and things could happen.”

“I wouldn't mind it.” Jungkook responds with a cheeky smile. His grip on one of your wrist loosened enough that you were able to hit his arm and he giggled in response.

“But I do. It wouldn't be fair.”

Even something as small as letting one member stay at your home without the others can be the loudest announcement for the rest of the group. All those times you've rejected your friends, with reasons like ‘I don’t want to risk everything’, and ‘I don't want to hurt the others’, to turn back around to accept their youngest would be hypocritical of you.

He scoffs. "You tell us about all your stupid dates, don't you think it's more unfair for us?”

A familiar weight grows in your chest. Guilt tasted like rust on your tongue and dug into your heart with a ribbed knife. Your own late night thoughts manifesting before you and you pushed him away.

After everything, you were all friends, you trusted them more than you do with your other circle. There's not a secret left undiscussed between the eight of you so it was no surprise that you had indulged them with the details of your quest for a husband. Nobody ever raised any complaints with you sharing your days so you never thought twice about it.

It's been five years since Jin had confessed, three for Taehyung. Their eldest had confessed for the sake of him finally being able to move on after your rejection and with how he acted after, you had believed him. It was different for Taehyung who had continued to act like normal after his confession, neither dejected nor did he show signs of letting go but he did introduce a date to your group once, a year later, so you had assumed the same.

Were you wrong after all?

“Jungkook, we're drunk. Let’s talk about this tom—”

“I've never been more sober in my life than I am right now, noona.”

You didn't respond, couldn't reply.

What were you supposed to even say?

Jungkook usually obeyed you and his hyungs without hesitation, happily offering his aid whenever he could. He's the type of friend who's run himself dry just to fetch you a cup of water from the other side of the world but now as he hovers over you, he became a whole new person.

Greed has always been an irritating parasite that eats away at a person's morals but somehow in your drunken mind, you thought it looked so good on him. It fits him and his generous character the way one light clothing molds well with the dark fabrics. His familiar scent of vanilla and coconut clouded your senses, calming your panicking mind into a hush, leaving nothing but the thoughts of how his lips tasted and wondering if he’s as sweet as he smelled.

He let out a shaky exhale from through his mouth as he watched your parted lips with a rapt attention as if hypnotized by the way they subtly trembled with every breath that passed through.

In the pregnant silence of your room, his voice cuts through like a knife.

“Can I kiss you?”

He whispers against your lips, voice breaking in the middle from the weight of his request, honeyed and pleading, as if your kiss holds the answer to the problems of the world and holds the power to break him.

His hand travels up to cup your cheek oh so carefully like you're fragile china yet you feel yourself shatter under his touch.

You are losing grasp on your sober thoughts as lust starts to cloud your already compromised judgment, his request far too tempting to ignore.

Maybe a kiss wouldn’t hurt.

But wouldn’t it be unfair for the others who have expressed their romantic intentions to you since years ago?

It was a last ditch effort to reason with your mind and your body froze from the cold wave of realization. In the short time after his question, you recall the confessions you turned down to not ruin the relationship Bangtan has established for themselves and the bitter taste it left on your tongue.

“Jungkook… we can’t.”

Watching his expression contort into confused hurt almost made you want to take your words back, but your mind takes you to memories of apologetic and understanding smiles you’ve received throughout the years and the aches from those moments resurfaces, squeezing your heart in a tight grip.

“I-I’m sorry I can’t control my feelings, I just wanted to tell you about it… Thought that maybe after this, I could move on.” An apologetic voice whispers, the memory of premature confessions in the middle of a cleanup resurfacing.

“I can’t—I can’t do it to them, it’d be unfair.”

You pushed him back and he relented, letting himself be sat back onto the other side of the couch defeatedly. Despite it, his tight grip on your waist remained, pulling you flush to him and burying his face in your chest as if trying to hear the lie in your words through the beatings of your heart.

“I’m also seeing Guwon now.”

“Then don’t let me meet him. I-I don’t know if I can take it.”

It was heart wrenching and at the same time, left an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. Jungkook never had to beg since you first met him, everything he could ever want was given to him by you and his hyungs without hesitation. Hearing him plead for you to never bring Guwon around if fate had actually paired you both, it was a different kind of pain.

It felt like thorns growing and rooting its stems of pointy ends into the deepest parts of your heart. You hated this, but you don’t want to hurt any of your boys by accepting one.

Relief comes in the form of Taehyung when he busted into your apartment while Jungkook has excused himself to your bathroom to sober up just a moment before. Seokjin trails behind him, calmer than the younger man who declared his arrival with a deep voice and a loud bang of the door. You immediately thought of the elderly couple and the new family of three living next to you and internally facepalmed.

“Noona! We’ve come to take Jungkook away!”

Kim Seokjin’s face has never been more handsome when he closed the door behind him, and you verbalized your thought, leading his ears to glow red in embarrassment.

“Am I only handsome to you when I’m closing the doors?! This face that people fawn over all over the world?!”

“It’s your true calling, door guy.”

“Oh shut it hyung, you’re making my head hurt.” Jungkook mutters as he reentered the living room, looking far better than when he left.

The tension was palpable, the effect of a rejected profession still raw and thick in the small joined space of the living room and kitchen and you caught Jin's eyes as the two youngest bickered, there’s a knowing look passed between you, an unsaid ‘let’s talk later’ hanging in the air.

“Hey, just because you got to escape Hoba’s practice without scratch doesn't mean you're hot shit, show me some respect!”

Seokjin scolds, accompanied by a playful kick to their youngest’s butt. Immediately the stuffy air dissipates and Jungkook responds in kind; by kicking him in the shin, hard enough to launch Seokjin into another lengthy nag.

It was a quick retrieval after his rant. Jungkook lets himself be towed out of your apartment by an oddly enthusiastic Taehyung who's going on about a new game trailer he saw online while Jin has offered to be left behind to clean up the mess. It was no doubt obvious, the familiar awkwardness and tenseness brought by a rejected confession lingered in the air when they arrived, it only took him one look at you and he already knew.

The moment the door slams shut behind the boys, he immediately began:

“Did he admit it?”

His voice was soft yet it rang loudly in the pindrop silence of your living room. The sigh he let out echoed more when you nodded.

“I told him to not do it, you know? But you know how stubborn he gets.”

You didn’t reply. You simply move, walking to the trash bin to put the empty beer cans in and Jin follows close with the bowls stacked on top of each other to place in the sink. It was a brief moment of reprieve. He let the moment from earlier simmer in your stomach, let the smoke from it fill your lungs and weigh your heart till you burst.

Out of the seven boys, you've always turned to either him or Yoongi as they're older than you, so it came to nobody's shock when you break and told him.

“It just never gets better, I always feel guilty even if I didn’t choose. I’m just lucky I didn’t have to suffer through seven of these, I don’t think I could take it and just quit.”

It was a thought you’ve entertained when Taehyung came to you with his heart in his hand, giving it to you carelessly despite knowing how you’ve handled the other confessions. He was all dopey smiles and flushed cheeks, it continued even when you’ve pushed his heart back to him with an apologetic look.

Seeing the happy creases in his eyes iron out despite the huge boxy smile continuing to play on his lips, the existing pressuring guilt reawakened. Taehyung’s heart that gleamed and glowed gold, vulnerable for you to take and use from where it settled in the middle of his offering palms. You could’ve taken advantage of it all as they were rising in fame, when they were facing discrimination from the other companies and had found comfort in you but you didn’t.

Even with the attraction you've felt for them, you were nothing but a makeup artist to the company. Another asset to deploy and replace if it got annoying to handle. You couldn't risk your career on uncertainties, this is your dream job.

You loved them all equally and held them in the same regards as the others, they’re your best friends, chosen soul companions even without the marks to solidify it.

They loved you and you loved them all but you wouldn't bet your life on an uncertain future.

“You should give us more credit, you know?”

He says from the kitchen sink, the sound of water slowing into a halt. Seokjin didn’t move for a while. When he did, it was to place down the plates, washing his hands before turning around to face you.

“We’re grown adults now, we can handle rejection so don’t feel too bad about it. You can choose and we’d even help you keep it a secret from everyone besides us eight.”

It was genuine. Even in the haze of your intoxication, those words felt like a cool balm for your aching heart. While Namjoon’s words were cited research, formal and factual and Yoongi’s were calming droughts to ease the discomfort of sadness brought by gloomy thoughts, Seokjin speaks from the heart, true and unbiased but says it with a gentleness and care.

Guilt sets like a boulder on your heart. Being able to feel, to experience such a privilege when all you've done is break his heart since your hunt for a husband, the weight in your chest multiplied and tears sprung from your eyes.

You wanted them but you couldn't risk your dream job, couldn't risk a friendship as precious as theirs for kisses and hugs that eventually has its ends.

You didn’t even notice it when he crossed the distance between you both and pulled you plush to his chest but you recognized the familiar sensation of plush lips pressing against your forehead.

If it lingered a few seconds past what's platonically allowed, you didn’t mention it.

Seokjin’s muted scent of freshly baked cakes brought silence to the rampaging waves of thoughts in your mind and if you pressed your nose flush to his chest to bury yourself in his fragrance, he didn’t say anything, bringing one hand behind your head protectively.

“I'm sorry to put you through this pain, Jinnie. I-I didn’t know.”

“I knew you didn’t know but I'll be fine... eventually.” He breathes out before leaning down to bury himself into the nest of your hair. "As long as you're happy, then I am too."

It was heavy, being loved and held so preciously even after you’ve turned him down, it felt cruel, sadistic even. But like the selfish woman you are, you accepted it. Soaked in his affections greedily.

“You know, he asked me to never show Guwon around you guys.”

He sighed. “I knew he would.”

“Do you want that as well?

Silence followed but you heard his answer loud and clear.

The second date happened after the first leg of the tour in Seoul.

Although planned suddenly, you appreciated the downtime after being lost in the haze of rushed outfit changes, reapplying makeup, and patting sweat from foreheads. If anything, you were thankful you could loosen up after earlier. The awkward tension didn’t go amiss, it only took Namjoon and Yoongi one look between you and Jungkook before taking charge on how the night progresses.

Yoongi didn't waste any time waving you over to ask for help for his makeup, even when he was already being prepped by one of your older colleagues, Ji hae. Thankfully, the woman lets you take over, saying she wanted a snack anyways.

The man didn't bother asking you what happened and settled comfortably in his chair but not before offering you the snack he bought earlier and was laying neglected on his lap. Yoongi asked about Guwon in a hushed voice, because while you were living in a reverse harem with most of his brothers, he was genuinely curious about your boyfriend-to-be.

Maybe it was the fact he has never admitted his affections for you that made it comfortable to discuss topics you could never talk about with the others with him, but you let your tongue a little loose.

And he listened.

Yoongi has always been a man of action not words, his love language has always been opening water bottles, blankets appearing from nowhere when you're passed out on their couch, and listening attentively. Despite what the world says about his nonchalance and silence, in your eyes, he's the sweetest guy on the roster—not that you'd tell Jimin that of course, he'd riot if he were to find out.

By the end of the concert, Guwon asks you on an impromptu date. A simple late night walk on a market nearby because there's apparently a food fair, and as usual, the expenses are on him. Hungry with a principle of never turning down free food, of course you accepted.

Though you had a long time deciding whether to go or not with Jungkook’s confession still fresh.

Minutes later, he's waiting for you by the exit. The scene of him leaning on his Mercedes, waiting for you to reach him at the bottom of the stairs looks like it was pulled out of a kdrama.

Oddly enough, they didn’t question your lack of updates in the group chat but Jimin reached out later on and you suspect he told everyone your whereabouts instead, hopefully minus the date part to spare the others (read: Jungkook) from heartbreak.

The fair looked like a mirage of a paradise in the night hidden away in a small gently-lit up alley. The path was lightened up with gentle lanterns hung above you, the warm colors setting a more intimate scene. It wasn’t as luxurious as dinner from yesterday or as calming as the bike ride around the Han river but you appreciated it nonetheless.

You’re ready to drop dead but you pushed through, you wanted this relationship to work. Because then, maybe the monsters—your mother and her wide selection of personalities as well as aunties, her friends, trying to refer you to their horrible sons—haunting you from under your bed will finally leave you alone.

It was cruel that you’re using someone else to erase the memory of being professed to by one of your best friends.

Guwon was happy enough to take charge the whole date, leading you from food stall after food stall, ordering whatever your eyes lingered at which is half of what the fair offers. He understands your lack of responses as it is, tired from work, and talked enough for the both of you. Which you are grateful for.

He talked about his job and what happened that day, willingly telling you about the story of how he and his co-workers clicked back in College, never to part till now in the field they wanted. He spoke of his dreams, how he envisioned his dream home by the province surrounded by nature and the cat named Nabi waiting for him at home.

There's nothing more blatant of a signal than the last part, whether you accept it or not depends on you.

Normally, you would've frowned at the thought, immediately thinking of running away but as the night deepens and stalls start to close, the idea grows more and more tempting despite the logical voice in your head disagreeing. Seeking a distraction and possibly leading on a kind man is cruel, both to him and you.

But at the end of the day, it’s just an escape from the reality you're stuck in, a temporary answer to a long time problem.

How harmful can it be?

People had hookups before, you’ve had hookups before your mother has started a hunt for your husband this year so what are you so reluctant for?

If this man is to be your husband, you should check your physical compatibility right?

You shivered. God, you sounded like one of those shitty guys you’ve dated before.

"Hey, the stalls just closed. Are you fine with me driving you back to your house?"

His voice cuts through your deep thoughts and you turn to him. Even in the dimly lit corner of the alley, Guwon looked attractive as ever with his dimpled smile and laid back attitude, his soft eyes gleaming under the lanterns, affections overflowing from his gaze and you. shuddered from its weight.

Staring at the man, you wondered if you'd ever fall in love with him as he seemed right now.

Soon enough, you both arrive in front of your apartment building. However, not every plan goes through as you thought it'd go and you find two familiar figures rushing down to meet you.

Taehyung didn't hesitate to run up to you with open arms and a wide smile. He didn't even care that you both almost toppled over if it wasn't for Guwon hand supporting you from the back.

"Wh-why are you two here? Shouldn't you guys be resting?"

Jimin shrugged but you caught the mischievous glint in his eyes as a small smile tugs his lips. "Hyung got so worried and wanted us to make sure you got home safely."

"Even a thumbs up would be great but you ignored every text and call! Jin hyung panicked and sent us out, if you didn't come home, he would've had a huge manhunt for you." Taehyung chimed in, pulling away but keeping his hands on your shoulders as he stared deep into your eyes, as if trying to hypnotize you into believing them.

Jimin snickered. “Yoongi hyung was an hour away from declaring you missing so the good dongsaengs we are, we decided to camp outside your apartment.”

You would've accepted his explanation, it was logically sound yet the dark glint of mischief and something else in his eyes as his gaze bounced from you to Guwon told you a different story.

They've always had to interrupt your dates when it becomes sour but this was the first time they've confronted a potential partner outside the intentions of ruining a date because you wanted it to suck.

This was them laying their claim over their own, a silent statement. A declaration you try not to think so much about, fearing you'd dig yourself deep and fall to your death.

“These must be one of your kids?” Guwon asks from behind, reminding you of his presence and you turn to him with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, Taehyung and Jimin. I practically raised them.”

Jimin scoffs and your head snapped to him, widening your eyes in warning to which he ignored. “Just because you’re a year older, doesn’t mean you could say you raised us you know?”

“See what I deal with everyday?”

Guwon laughs lightheartedly before patting your head to get your attention. “Since your kids are here to protect you, I should get going now.”

“Drive safely.”

“See you soon?”

“Definitely.”

Then he placed a haste kiss on the edge of your lips, catching you off guard and you froze. Guwon was already in his car by the time you realized what happened and turned to chastise him. You couldn't even knock on the passenger window when the arms coiled around your shoulders tightened and tugged you close.

Letting Guwon kiss you in front of one of the men who confessed to you once was the first mistake, second was looking up at Taehyung whose hug is starting to hurt.

Gone were the usual giddiness and child-like enthusiasm that would pour from his eyes. It was replaced by a colder glare, almost blank and emotionless as it narrowed behind you and jaw locked tight. There was something primal in the way his hand behind your head was pushing you closer to him as if he was hounding over his game from another predator.

Goosebumps prickled your skin awake.

If butterflies exploded in your stomach and ignited a molten heat in your abdomen at that very moment, it's a secret you’d take to your grave.

“Tae?”

“Noona, I think we should head inside. It's getting cold.” Jimin’s sweet voice sounded forced and you resisted the urge to look at him.

While their reaction to being challenged is obvious, you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out why he should feel like that when he’s been seeing other people since his confession. From your past dates where he attended as one of your escape plans, he’s never expressed such an intense show of displeasure so you thought his fleeting crush had passed.

Until tonight.

When Taehyung pulled away, the traces of his hostility were gone and you had to double take at how vastly different he's appearing now. He has his lower lip pushed out into a pout, eyes wide with mirth as he reaches up to cup your cheeks, his warm palms heating your cold-nipped skin.

“Aigoo, you're so cold noona. Let's go in and binge that foreign show you've been following.”

With hands now intertwined, he leads you inside the building where Jimin was already standing inside and was holding the door open for you both. You were being tugged into your own home yet you couldn’t help but feel tense as Taehyung and Jimin welcomed you back in with the same dark look you saw earlier.

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silksongeveryday · 3 months ago

Text

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 600!

Here’s a quick 30 min doodle to celebrate! :D

Man time really flies huh

Thank you guys for 3.1k btw!!!

And big thank you to those who have joined me in this wild journey of daily doodles no matter how long you’ve been here. Truly did not expect what started as a joke to make it this far lol

(more stuff I wanted to talk about under the cut)

-A few updates-

General Stuff:

Well, life has been generally pretty busy. And while that’s made it a little more challenging to do daily doodles as of late, it’s been alright for the most part. Some of you may have noticed though that a lot of my daily posts have been showing up as much as 1-2 hours later than the regular time. Unfortunately with all the stuff I’ve been taking care of lately, putting a daily doodle/drawing on top of the pile means it’ll be late very often. I kind of have an unofficial job irl now so this stuffs hard to juggle sometimes.

Hornet’s Strange Adventures:

Initially I was hoping to get a lot of stuff done for this game during October but some recent job stuff is making that pretty hard to do. I probably won’t be able to make any significant progress on this game until very late October and into November. So if you were looking forward to big updates on progress, it sadly won’t be for a while, sorry. Outside of that though, I can at least say that all the routes have been thoroughly planned out from start to finish including the secret route. This includes rewriting some choices that have already been seen during the game’s time on ssed.

About Doodle Requests

I haven’t had them open for a while anyway, but I’ve finally come to the decision that I will no longer be taking doodle requests through tumblr asks/inbox. As fun as it was in the beginning, I often found myself trying to fulfill requests on the daily and that was stressful. That being said, it doesn’t necessarily mean I’m stopping requests entirely. I just don’t really want to do them for free anymore. Since I’m on Hornet Journal Series still, it’s a long way away before anything happens, but there’s a likely chance I’ll only do commissioned doodle requests whenever they re-open. We’ll see as it gets closer though.

Thoughts on taking an actual break:

I’ve mentioned this a lot in the past both here on ssed and on my main blog, but I’ve been seriously considering taking a break. Like a real one. Not just a “I’m gonna stockpile a bunch of doodles and pick it back up when I run out�� kind of break. Especially with the way life has been going lately (mostly positive at least), I feel as though I may have to retire from daily doodles somewhat soon if there is no official news by the time this blog hits its 2 year mark. Don’t get me wrong I’ve loved doing this for the almost two years that it’s been going but at some point I’ll have to move on from this whether I like it or not. Does this mean that activity on this blog stops altogether? No. I just won’t be doing daily doodles anymore. There’s a more likely chance it would end up being weekly, or possibly monthly. Just not daily anymore.

Whatever the case, that decision will be considered more when 2 years gets closer. Until then just enjoy daily doodles while they’re still here!

—————————————————-

I think that’s all I can think of to say right now. Might post more thoughts on my main maybe?? We’ll see

Thank you again to all the lovely people that have been here during this crazy journey, you guys are awesome :D

#silksongeveryday #hollow knight #silksong #hk hornet #hollow knight hornet #silksong hornet #hollow knight fanart #hk fanart #ssed

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vigilante24ish · 2 months ago

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🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1692

Chapter 27:

The coven gasped, some looking behind them at the cracked glass windows, but everyone quickly focused on you; the source behind everything.

Your hands were glowing white, fingers curled into tight fists in a useless attempt to contain your anger; to control yourself, but your magic kept flowing wild.

"No!" You exclaimed, your voice coming loud across the room. You freed your hand from Rio's and pushed her to the side, not allowing her to keep you back any longer. "You were supposed to be a descent mother and protect her!"

You stood in front of the coven, your chin held high as your eyes held this darkness within them; a look not even Agatha had ever seen on you.

Evanora flew closer, and as her eyes fell on your form, familiarity flashed across her face. Her gaze was hard, and her lips formed a snarl.

"You!" She pointed a ghostly finger at you. "This is your fault. You were supposed to kill her back then. That was your responsibility, and yet you refused, forcing my coven to take the risk"

Your hands shook. "I was a child!" You argued. "I didn't even have my first bleeding, and yet you dared to ask me to kill your own child!"

Agatha looked at you with wide eyes, never knowing this little piece of information. She never knew that her own mother had approached you, asking you to take her down

Back then, you truly were a child; no older than 11. You had been close to Agatha, and yet she was surprised that you so openly refused to acknowledge or follow Evanora's orders.

After all, that woman had allowed you to reside within the grounds of her coven and even invited you in different coven rituals.

One would expect you would do anything to thank the woman that kept you sheltered and part of a coven when all the other witches would have kicked you away.

Yet, even then, you refused her. Even then, you chose Agatha over anyone else. Even then, you believed Agatha was kind in her heart, and she was not the monster her mother saw her as.

"This was what you were created to do!" She so openly and harshly reminded you. "To exterminate evil contaminating the purity of witchcraft, " Evanora continued. "This was your responsibility "

By now, your magic was seeping through your clenched fingers; glowing bright and flowing up in extended branches. The blood red moon was glowing behind you, its haunting light entering through the cracked window as your emotions started to get the best of you.

"It was your job as a mother to help her!" Your vocid grew even louder, tears gathering at the edges of your eyes as frustration was building up. "You were supposed to nurture and guide her. To show her the right path. Instead, you tricked her on her very own birthday! You used her loyalty to you and tied her to a post, ready to execute her the day she had just turned 18!"

There were a few faint gasps from the coven who did not know the details of that fateful night. They didn't know the true darkness hidden behind the 'salemite masacre'.

But you knew, for Agatha told you everything. You knew it was her birthday. You could still remember how happy she was; ready to be fully initiated into the coven.

You remembered how happily she thought her mother had finally softened up to her. You remembered how you tried to persuade her not to go, fearing Evanora had no good intentions.

And, of course, you remembered how the same night she had come to you; shaken and on the verge of tears. You would always remember as she told you what happened and how her coven was dead because her powers protected her during her execution.

"You should have acted like a mother. Not the selfish, ignorant, prideful and disgusting cruel whore you truly were" you added, leaving Evanora no place to argue. "You. Failed. Her!"

The windows were suddenly destroyed, pieces of glass falling inside and causing your coven to yell and surprise and faint fear; taking steps closer to avoid the shower of glasses your magic had brought upon everyone.

"Shouldn't we stop her?" Teen asked, staring to worry that your magic would drop the whole cabin on their heads.

"I don't think it's wise to interfere," Jen suggested, eyeing your raging magic carefully.

"This is only a fragment of how explosive moon magic can be," Lilia commented, passively informing Alice and Teen; the most clueless ones.

The tears that had gathered at the edge of your eyes had long dried up, your gaze so cold and threatening that even Evanora floated a step back.

"I dare you, Evanora Harkness," your voice sounded deeper, less humane. "Dare to try and even touch Agatha and I swear on the name of the Divine Mother that I will tear your dark soul into so many pieces that no one will ever be able to bring you back"

Rio let a low whistle, looking at you impressed and proud; if not, slightly turn on. You had never used that voice of yours before, and now she truly wished to hear it again.

She had been unaffected by the destroyed windows, having seen first hand what took place when you truly let go; the consequences of anything alive and not that was unfortunate enough to get caught in the blast of your magic.

She might not be able to harm Evanora as a ghost, but you could. It was a blood full moon, the veil so thin that the purity of your powers could cause harm on a restless soul.

Though it was unclear even to her if you truly knew that or were simply bluffing; trying to keep Evanora away from her daughter.

At the same time, Agatha was looking at you in silence. She knew of the nature of your powers, of how volatile they could be, but even she was impressed by the show of power.

That dark, inhumane tone made her hair stand on end, in a good way. The way your hair moved from the wind and force your magic was causing as it glowed white all around you was a sight she would never forget.

But above all, Agatha felt proud and genuinely thankful for having you by her side. The way you once again defended her without a moment of hesitation, ready to stand between her and danger; ready to support her when she truly needed.

If she had not developed feelings for you all those centuries ago, she definitely would have known.

And as Agatha noticed Evanora floating further back, careful of your swirling magic; she grabbed her chance to head for the wooden stairs and join her coven.

Yet, before her socked foot could leave the last step of the stairs; a voice spoke up, and by the triple Goddess, Agatha had started to hate listening to her.

"We have to go." Jen said, making everyone look at her. "There's no flood here. There's no fire. The only danger to us in this trial is Agatha Harkness." She explained, doing her best to avoid your sharp gaze or focus too much on your glowing powers.

Immediately, Agatha lost the grip on her usual mask. "Take me with you." She said but saw the looks Jen and even Lilia gave her. "Don't. Let me. Please. Don't go!"

Teen put his foot down. "We can't leave her here. No, no."

"Take me with you. Please." Agatha's voice cracked as Jen started to walk further and further back. "Don't leave me with her. I can be good. Please!"

Your heart felt like being broken into a thousand pieces at hearing that begging tone again. You heard that inner child that was betrayed and abandoned by her family and coven once...

Now about to be abandoned again by the witches she had thought as her coven.

You turned your body sideways. "You leave then!" You barked at Jen, doing your best not to move your hands for you knew your magic would blast the potions witch. Though with her attitude, you truly felt tempted. "If you think this will save you, go! I am not leaving her"

Hope spread warmth across Agatha's chest, hearing how strongly you were willing to stay. She looked at Rio as well, seeing her nodding and agreeing with you.

None of her two lovers were willing to leave her trapped with her mother; forever tortured by being possessed and in pain by the ghost of the woman that birthed her.

Before Agatha could truly enjoy the moment, Evanoda made her move.

The ghost had taken advantage that your attention was not on her, and she took over Agatha's body. She knew, after all, you would not be able to stop her that way.

You would not risk harming Agatha, not even when possessed, and Evanora was ready to take full advantage of that.

"Agatha!" You exclaimed, seeing her once again possessed and mentally cursing yourself for not keeping your eyes on the sneaky ghost.

"Leave her alone!" Alice shouted and started to shoot her red and yellow fire magic at Agatha, the power slowly pushing away the ghost from within the body.

You grabbed your chance, and once Evanora was fully out of Agatha's body, you unleashed your gather magic at her.

A thick beam of white light was shot at her with intensity. Evanora screamed in pain, and her hands spread to the sides like a cross while your magic started to crawl over her ghostly form; only to burn it in an ethereal show of power.

You panted faintly and lowered your hands, the ghost of Evanora having faced the full fury and power of your magic; paying the ultimate prize.

After all, you were not a woman who went back on your oaths and promises; especially one serious enough to invoke the moon godess.

Yet the moment of joy and victory remained short as you took notice what was happening close to you.

"Alice, no!"

"Knight of Wands"

"No!"

#agatha harkness #agatha all along #agatha fanfic #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha spoilers #moon phases fanfic #marvel #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza #rio vidal

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novalpha · 2 years ago

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𝘞𝘰𝘯𝘸𝘰𝘰 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The shattered camera ✹♡⌗୨୧ -> @puppetwritings

Summary: Wonwoo already had enough on his plate as it is—proving his parents wrong, making a living, fighting his just conscience—and with you in the picture, nothing could possibly go more wrong. Or could you be his ticket to the good life that he wanted?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Head in the clouds (Landing among stars) ♡୨୧♤✹ -> @twogyuu

Synopsis: You're busy. He's busy. Doctors are busy. Pilots are busy. But somehow, he always found time for you - including pretending to be your boyfriend for your cousin's wedding.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Hi Wonwoo ୨୧ -> @diamondyjh

Synopsis: Sharing the details about your day with your boyfriend is a part of your daily routine.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Favorite ★ -> @wonusite

Synopsis: When Professor Jeon realizes his most earnest student is no longer paying him the attention he craves, he goes to great lengths to make sure he’s the only one holding her attention.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Love you twice ♡୨୧★ -> @toruro

description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Right where you left me ♡୨୧★ -> @tonicandjins

summary: in which wonwoo leaves and takes your heart with him. three years later, you're in another city, but tragically, right where he left you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ In the spring ♡୨୧ -> @viastro

synopsis: in which you suffer from a car accident and have amnesia when you wake up. wonwoo is your current boyfriend, but you keep remembering your ex. [inspired by the numerous tiktoks i saw with this prompt]

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Payment due ♡୨୧★ -> @solarwonux

Synopsis: HYBE U one of the top highly prestigious universities in the country. A shit hole, a total money making scam that liked to sucked the life out of its students. Not being able to meet the funds to pay for your tuition your best friend lets you in a little secret. A way he’s been keeping afloat for years now, easy money. The problem is you want in.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Sharing is caring but I don't care ♡✹ -> @gamerwoo

Summary: All cat hybrids are different, but Wonwoo is exactly what you’d expect: reclusive, only wants attention for a limited amount of time, and slightly passive aggressive. You don’t mind, you love Wonwoo all the same. But he suddenly gets a lot more clingy after your best friend asks you to babysit the dog hybrid he’s fostering that seems to take a liking to you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Wedding weekends with Wonwoo ♡✹୨୧ -> @suhnshinehaos

SYNOPSIS. jeon wonwoo, the perfect man. kind, smart, successful career, and not too bad on the eyes. all his friends are getting married and everyone’s aunts, mothers, and family friends are trying to set him up with their friends, sisters, brothers, nieces, and nephews at every wedding he attends. he’s tired of it. what better way to solve his problem than to employ your help, someone who’s having the exact same one?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Blind ♡୨୧ -> @wtf-taeyong

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Roommates with benefits ♡★✹ -> @shuaflix

SUMMARY ▸ initially, wonwoo doesn’t think much about your incessant requests to play on his xbox. however, when what was supposed to be a two-hour visit to his place stretches out for two weeks, he starts to think you’re overstaying your welcome.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Momentum ♡୨୧♤ -> @wonlouvre Part 2 , Part 3

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ His favourite colour is blue ♡୨୧ -> @euphoricsunflowers

summary: there’s this guy in your history class who is so attractive, but he’s cold and closed off. guess you gotta fix that.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Love me tender...or maybe not ♡★ -> @multi-kpop-fanfics

Summary: cupids are the messengers of love and eros. but not all of them have truly experienced eros, in mind and flesh.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Your friends suck ♡୨୧★ -> @bambikisss

Summary: Your friend group is filled with people who tend to push their wants onto you, so with you being a pushover, you sorta let them. Wonwoo takes notice after a while and begins to help you pull away.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Just ask ♡୨୧★ -> @idyllic-ghost

synopsis: you're not very good at asking for things, especially not of the sexual kind. but maybe you can be driven to a point where you simply have to ask.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Amour-Haine & Co ♡୨୧★ -> @wonwoosthetic

Six years. Six long years have you been working side-by-side with your father. Balancing studying at university while playing his right hand throughout it all without ever complaining about how hard it was, but rather always putting 200% into everything you did. You helped him grow the company to where it now was.

And now, after the many ups and downs you have shared, he retires only to let the company get bought by some young wannabe Jeff Bezos, who thinks money and looks is everything he needs to get him through life.

If someone thought you’d just let this pass and work as Jeon Wonwoo’s side chick… they would be wrong. So, let the games begin.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Blood love , Part 2 ♡୨୧★ -> @multi-kpop-fanfics

Summary: Swearing off human blood can be condemning for a vampire - despite Wonwoo surviving without it for decades. But living in the current era is much more different than the past - because you exist.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Good luck charm ♡★ -> @sluttywoozi

Summary: Progamer!wonwoo is having a minor breakdown in a closet pre-tournament. Good thing you know the perfect good luck charm for him!

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Sucker (for you) ♡✹ -> @gyu-effect

SUMMARY || First year in college was always known to be stressful with all the assignments to complete, parties to enjoy and lectures to attend. But for you, it was a whole different type of stress: the conflicting (and growing) feelings of affection towards your best friend. Falling for him isn’t an option, but neither is avoiding him. So what do you do when you are down bad for the one and only Jeon Wonwoo?

Or, in which, one drunk party sends you hurtling down a rollercoaster of love for your best friend.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Meet cute of the century ♡୨୧★ -> @lovelyhan

the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Homewrecked ♡୨୧★ -> @ncteez

Wonwoo doesn’t seem to realize that you’re giving him the best option out of a relationship that doesn’t even involve you. With a cheating best friend on one side, and a loyal Wonwoo loving her from two hours away on another, you decide that home wrecking isn’t always a bad idea.

or the one where wonwoo fights internal demons over wanting you bc he’s in a relationship that he doesn’t even realize is falling apart.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ POV ♡୨୧ -> @by-soleil

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Something old, something new ♡★ -> @kwanisms

summary: When you get the news that your cousin is getting married, you lie about bringing your boyfriend as your date. Panicking, you ask your best friend, Wonwoo, to be your fake boyfriend.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The Peephole ★ -> @rubyreduji

summary: wonwoo can’t stop thinking about how he wants to ruin his roommate, the peephole in his wall isn’t helping tamper those desires either

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Pretend It's Someone That Came for You ♡୨୧★ -> @beefboyandbabygirl

description: you're lonely. you're so lonely you think it might actually kill you. but when wonwoo transfers to your office, he might just change that fact.

[ More wonwoo fic recs will be updated ]

Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here

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earlysunshines · 1 month ago

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secret rhymes - 11. roomie (half-written)

a/n: and random idol landed on yujin (idk much ab her but hopefully enough for this to be accurate... hopefully)

the sound of the door creaking open pulled you from basically every thought racing in your head. you turn to see a girl stepping in, with a bag slung over her shoulder and a drink in hand. she freezes mid-step as she catches you in her eye, blinking in surprise.

"oh!" she says softly, though her voice carries a slight edge of surprise. "i didn't think you'd make it today."

"yeah, um, surprise?" you offer a shy smile, stepping aside from where you had been standing by your side of the room (the side with literally nothing present). "i just got here yesterday... stayed at a, um, friends place before arriving. you must be my roommate?"

"looks like it," she says, recovering quickly. she walks over and plops down on the edge of her bed. "i'm yujin, ahn yujin."

you look down at her extended hand before reaching over to shake it. her smile was genuine, and it eased you a bit.

"nice to meet you, i'm l/n y/n."

she tilts her head slightly, eyes scanning you a bit before she mutters, "this feels kinda real now."

you laugh softly, nodding as you sit on the edge of your bed. "yeah, it's kind of surreal for me."

there was a moment of quiet as yujin began sipping on her drink, and you began to unpack the bag beside you a bit. the silence wasn't that uncomfortable, you've been through worse, but it hung in the air like a question waiting to be asked.

"so," yujin starts after a beat, glancing over as you take out a pair of slippers. "are you nervous?"

"oh for sure," you admit with a slight chuckle. "you?"

"same." she says, laughing lightly. "but i'm kind of excited too. it's a very weird mix."

you nod, sensing the tension in the room dying down. "where are you from?" you ask.

"daejeon," she answers, "kinda far... so it's a bit different. i've never been so far away from home, but i got a nice scholarship here."

"that's funny, it's the same for me." you explain, "i'm actually from new york city, so this is really... different. i've been a couple times but... living here now? and university? it's kind of insane to me still. i got a full ride, couldn't turn it down, especially at a place like yonsei."

her eyes widen a bit, genuine curiosity sparking in them. "new york? wow. that must be amazing..."

"it has its moments," you respond with a shrug. "it's loud, crowded, and overwhelming sometimes. seoul seems a bit more peaceful, at least where i've been to in the past and yesterday."

yujin laughs at that, her eyes crinkling at the edges. "i guess every place has its ups and downs."

"i guess so."

the initial awkwardness completely melted away as you both talked about your hometowns, your expectations for college, and little things like favorite foods and your love for music. yujin had an easygoing way of speaking, and you could tell she was the playful type as she reminded you of some of your own friends. she was always attentive even when you weren't completely facing her as you unpacked, smiling at you in a way that made you feel like you'd known her a little longer than just a few minutes.

"i feel better now," yujin admits at one point, looking up from where she was folding her own set of clothes. "meeting you, i mean. i was worried i would get some super serious roommate, or someone really hard to get along with -- really just someone pretentious."

""well... am i any of that?"

"oh, far from that. trust me."

you snicker, "i'm glad. but i might be like that if you touch my snacks..."

"what? i would never. well... i do love snacks, so it depends." she gasps in a sort of mock offense, making you giggle.

"right... we'll have to see." you tease. "i think we're off to a good start for now. if you take my snacks, i might have to take yours back though..."

masterlist ; previous — next

taglist ! @namojoon @ly-gushka @ryujinshotsexywife @sonotcopingatall @artrizzler19 @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @nwjnsloona @saysirhc @nimnia @somedaydream @trovao-penguins @modanisgf @c-yerim @starstruckgoateepuppy @tzuyusdoughnut @kaypanaq @peranoo @haerinkisser @electronicluminarycoffee @yoohtonyy @secretcessy

#kpop x reader #hanni x reader #hanni pham x reader #newjeans x reader #newjeans smau #hanni pham

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grimm-writings · 7 months ago

Note

HI ITS BARD ANON I MISSED YOU!!! insane request but what about a situation where the party + kabru + chil’s family orchestrate a date between chil and reader? like setting them up… i think that’d be so cuteeee

for the dancing and the dreaming

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, post-canon spoilers, chilchuck’s wife remains nameless, i love chilchuck's family can you tell

…wc! 1887

…notes! BARD ANON I’M BACK FROM WAR (burnout) !!!! these two requests are similar so i decided to make ‘em a wombo combo!!! enjoy my loves!

The woman gives you a kindly smile as she waves you off, you and her ex leaving the tavern. She sighs and leans back, crossing her arms.

God, Chilchuck is more stupid than she remembered.

How could he possibly miss the affection in your eyes when he called out to you both before you left? Or how you clearly wanted to ask if you can stay with him longer? He’s just going to ignore that and consider it all platonic?

What an idiot. Do I really have to step in for him again? Just like old times, huh…?

The half-foot taps a finger against her cheek in thought. Maybe she can push you to confess? No, you’d probably wave your hands around and insist against having feelings for Chilchuck in the first place. A heavy sigh escapes her.

Looks like she has to do things the old-fashioned way.

Step 1 – Family

The quickest way to alert someone is to see who the people closest to you know. Flertom is rather in-the-know about any gossip. Usually, as a mother, the half-foot really doesn’t want to encourage such things, but for now…

“What’s trendy in dating circles nowadays?” She asks offhandedly, eyeing a bouquet Flertom bought to gift a possible suitor. “Is the man still expected to be the one to initiate everything?”

She could nearly scoff at her own words. Only reason she and Chil got together was pure happenstance. Practically a blur by now. He’d be hopeless at actually trying to start anything with you.

The younger woman hums in curiosity, before stopping to think. “Not really nowadays, no… If you have enough charisma, you can charm any man into taking you out for a drink. Why do you ask, Ma?”

Flertom squints as she watches her mother laugh and shake her head in response. “Oh, I just think your old man might need some… encouragement with a new flame is all.”

Just as she expected, Flertom was immediately on the ball with planning, rushing out to the town in order to visit her sisters and inform them of the operation. She practically commanded her old mother to see if she could look for any clues about Chilchuck’s possible beau. With a knowing smile, she remarks that she’s very happy to pay a visit to Melini.

Step 2 – Friends

“You really think something that elaborate could work?!” Marcille Donato leans forward in her chair. Her eyes shine with a certain kind of joy at the idea of playing Cupid that amuses the matured half-foot significantly.

She nods. “I don’t see anything else coming close to pushing them. Force might be the only way.”

A female tall-man, Falin if recalled correctly, squints and hums, tapping her finger on her chin as she tilts her head. Her brow furrows. “From what I know, Chilchuck seems to be more open, but… I don’t know if he has the courage to be truly vulnerable in front of someone like that.”

“No need to tell me twice,” his ex scoffs.

“Oh!” The king, of all people, seems to have an epiphany. “We could hold some sort of ball, encourage him to invite a plus one. That can work, right Kabru?”

All eyes turn to look at the advisor standing to the side, clearly enjoying the conversation but not wishing to intrude. He startles at the sudden attention, before clearing his throat behind his fist.

“It will take some time to plan, but it could work… You mentioned having three daughters, ma’am, you can take one as a plus-one, and the two will take each other.” He’s calm with his conclusion, which the half-foot woman can definitely respect.

“A banquet of all their favourite foods,” the dwarf Senshi, as food-brained as ever, sighs in daydream.

Kabru takes a step forward. “Though I have to ask,” he enquires, “is it really necessary to call upon all of the king’s advisors and himself for a Cupid scheme?”

Silly boy. He doesn’t yet realise the stakes.

If Chilchuck and you don’t say something soon, then you may stay silent forever. This idea might be the best shot they have.

Step 3 – The Preparation

“What’s even the occasion…?” Chilchuck sighs as he adjusts the sleeves of the formal outfit he’s wearing. He’s definitely unused to something so high-class. Being invited as a guest of honour certainly isn’t doing any favours either.

Not to mention, Laios was stupid enough to not even bestow upon you a guest of honour title! Chilchuck has to go through the means of inviting you as a plus one due to some ‘organisational issues’, as Kabru put it.

What a load of crap.

“I ‘unno!” Puckpatti peeks her head around the corner to look at her father. “Royals just seem to like their balls!”

“This isn’t one of your period romances…” Meijack’s voice rings from the other room too.

You sit with them, talking amongst one another. Flertom’s plus one remains a mystery to you, though she assures you that you’ll meet with her when you get there. You can only assume it’s the girls’ mother but you have no clue why she’s so giggly and secretive about it.

“On the contrary!” Flertom announces. “I think it’s exactly like a period romance. Maybe one of us will be swept into a dance so beguiling, you forget there’s a whole ballroom of people!”

You squeal in surprise when Flertom takes your hands and pulls you out of your chair. You dance together in a fit of giggles. You only barely miss Chilchuck walking out to meet with you all, a fond smile on his face.

Little do you know, he’s thinking about what it would be like if joy like this could be shared in a household with the two of you.

“Come on now, settle. Apparently there’s gonna be a carriage taking us to Melini. I couldn’t fight against the theatrics, according to Marcille…”

“Oh Papa!” Puckpatti sighs blissfully. “We truly are living like nobles now! Maybe you can… ah…”

Both you and Chilchuck spy her eyes darting towards her sisters with unsureness. How strange.

“You can find… someone nice there!”

“No, Patti.” Chilchuck shakes his head with a sigh. “I’m not gonna marry some rich dwarf.”

“You are too cruel, Papa,” Flertom points out with a pout. “No one will want you if you just keep saying no.”

As the three bicker, Meijack spares you a sympathetic glance, and she rolls her eyes. Her sisters hardly know subtlety. Finally she stands up and walks to your side.

“I’m glad you’re here with us,” she says with uncharacteristic softness; she’s similar to her father like that. “Papa has good taste.”

You go red just as much as Chilchuck. For a moment, Flertom and Puckpatti wonder if their less romance-focused sister has some secret charisma she’s been hiding up her sleeve this whole time. It seems to work though, as they chorus their agreements loudly.

“Very good taste!”

“Their formal wear matches yours fashionably well!”

“Just as pretty as Ma too!”

“If not prettier!”

The entire carriage ride to Melini was full of this type of chatter, asking questions about you and Chilchuck’s time together the whole way. A few times you had to clarify that you are only as close as the rest of your old party were close, but were only met with a few smug “mhms” and “sures”.

Chilchuck can only roll his eyes when he gets the chance to comment on it privately with you. “I have no idea what’s up with them.”

“Oh, cheer up!” You laugh softly. “I’m flattered that they like me.”

Chilchuck can’t help but hear your laugh and chuckle along – music to his ears. “...Yeah, I’m glad they like you too.”

“Come on! Ma is here to greet you two!” Flertom’s voice calls out.

The mastermind has been watching you and Chilchuck the whole time you approach. Her expression remains neutral, with the smallest sliver of a smile. Seems like the proximity has been lending itself quite well.

“Well, aren’t you two a pair,” she greets you both. “Ready to take the ball by storm.”

“Your jokes haven’t gotten any better,” Chilchuck replies.

“And you’re still wearing the same shabby suit from sixteen years ago.”

Chilchuck flushes red once again and you can’t help but laugh, patting his shoulder sympathetically as he hooks his arm through yours.

The watching half-foot knowingly grins. Yes, you two are definitely going to take it up a level after tonight.

Step 4 – Profit!

The ball came and went. It goes as typical as the dark-haired half-foot expects. What really is supposed to be a high-class noble event is a mask for foodies, romantics, and those looking for a fun time.

Senshi’s food was as wonderful as promised, and even if this was all done in the name of romance, Flertom and Puckpatti had to be held down from trying to approach the dwarf with lowered eyelids and twirled hair. Chilchuck doesn’t need more heart palpitations than he already did.

She did her best to encourage Chilchuck to drink. She knows better than anyone that his tongue only loosened when he got enough alcohol in him. It hurts just a little, knowing that this is one of the only ways Chilchuck can be open with someone romantically.

The temptation did cross her to ask how Chilchuck views her now, but she stood against it. It’s not the night for that.

By the time the party drew to a close, people were exhausted, drunk, in a food coma, or all of the above. The King had to be dragged over to his quarters, and Marcille had since passed out on Falin’s shoulder, who’s bidding farewell to guests.

The dark-haired half-foot swirls the last of her wine in a glass as she stands outside, making small-talk with the tall-man. It’s not until you stumble out with Chilchuck clinging to the fabric on your hip that she looks up.

“Do you—”

“No need for help!” You reassure her with a grin. “He always seems to get clingy with me when drunk, so I’m kinda used to it at this point!”

Your laughter meets a knowing smile, not knowing exactly what she’s so smug about. “Yes, he seems to really like you.”

“I sure hope he does, considering he’s accepted my request to go on a date with him.”

Falin perks up enough to wake up the elf on her shoulder. “A date?”

The half-foot across from you is stunned into silence. It actually worked. The atmosphere and passion of it all actually egged you both on!

“Congratulations.” You’ve seen more emotion from the dark-haired woman than ever before. Her smile relaxed but her eyes shining, the lines underneath crinkling with happiness. “Treat him well, okay?”

“Of course,” you reply, and you lean forward a little. “Thank you for your help. Kabru couldn’t help but gossip to me.”

You wink and lean up again. Chilchuck at your side whines for your attention and you laugh, walking towards a carriage.

Safe travels were promised, and the dark-haired half-foot turns to the two blonde women.

The elf blinks slowly, red-faced from drink.

“Did we win…?”

The two other women laugh. Stories must be exchanged the next time you all meet – especially on your end of things.

#✮ grimm's fics!#oh man this will be hell to tag #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #delicious in dungeon imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck imagines #chilchuck tims imagines #meijack chils #puckpatti chils #flertom chils #chilchuck's wife #yeah that'll do

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amphitriteswife · 1 month ago

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Jaegyeon na NSFW HC’s

Fem reader

@yue-yolk

✨ He’s more of a switch in bed. He doesn’t mind having you take the lead, he’ll follow right behind you. But there are times where he wants to be in charge, just like when he’s behind the steering wheel.

✨ he EATS okay. Eater. Nom nom. He doesn’t even care what he eats he just eating. He’ll lick it from the front to the back and from the back to the front. Long. slow. licks. Sucking, humming, lapping, anything. He’ll look you straight in the eyes too while he sucks or humms against you. Pull his hair back too, he’ll like if more than he wants to admit.

✨ his nether regions are well kept and yes the hair is black and not blonde or red (😔) they’re rather thick but it’s not bushy. It’s more like a carpet and it’s only above his dick because he does NOT like hair under it. He may like a carpet but not a swamp.

✨ He has a thing for car sex. He will always try to mask it by playing annoyed with you. ‘Don’t be so sloppy. You’ll dirty initial N.’ Or ‘babe, I can’t see the road if you keep bouncing like that.’ Even though he’s annoyed and clicks his tongue at you, there is no way he doesn’t like it. He’s the one having his hand on your head and making you choke. He’s the one who trapped you in between his arms and using the ‘i’m just using the steering wheel’ excuse when you bounce on him, knowing that he only ever uses one arm to ride.

✨ he’s very perverted when it comes to masturbating. Most of the time its actually an intrusive thought in his eyes and he feels embarrassed for it too. What does he use for doing that? His hands most of the time, but if he’s feeling really freaky, he might rub himself on your pillow. Does it feel godly and did it make him extremely horny? Yes. But after he was fine he felt so ashamed and changed your pillow. He’ll take that to his grave

✨ he cums faster than you’d expect. But usually it’s not that much. When he’s edgying he lasts just way longer and cums more than usual. It’s more on the thicker and creamier side. He usually doesn’t come inside, mainly because he doesn’t want accidents to happen. But he’ll later on be more okay with it depending on a discussion about it. He prefers facials though

✨ Jaegyeon uses a lot of pet names. He doesn’t feel ashamed for them and uses them regularly. His favorites are ‘darling’ and ‘princess.’ He uses them or a regular basis, but he also has special ones he’ll use just in bed. When his voice is slightly strained and hoarse from moaning too much. Depending on your preference, he could call you his ‘good girl.’ Or if you prefer to he a top he has no problem calling you his ‘mommy’(im cringing but i do hc it so leave me alone for it-)

✨ Now, what does his dick look like? It’s slightly above average, so like 15 cm. It’s more vainy by the shaft. The head is like #ffc1cc. It also has a long vein on the bottom which actually helps with stimulating you since it rubs against your G-spot, he isn’t embarrassed by his size or how it looks. More that he’s naked in front of his girlfriend and he feels slightly flushed by if. If he’s flaccid if’s around the same length, and he can move it like a propeller.

✨ Degrating kink and a praise kink. How is that possible? He doesn’t know it either, but on some moments he likes it when you curse at him and dominate him, the others he likes it when you take care of him. It’s all about his mood. And in either one of them he begs a lot. As in full on pleading and being polite about it too.

✨ ‘you know I love you so much….ah…you feel so good….initial N.’ ‘UHM??? Excuse me???’ ‘Oh sorry Princess, wrong babe mb.’ Yes he would accidentally say Initial N during sex. And yes he will not deny it being his babe. He’s very defensive about it okay?

✨ definitely a fan of toys. Cock rings, vibrators, whips, anything you can ever think of, he has it. Does this mean he ever used them when he was single? Most of them he did not. He only ever maybe used a cock ring. But when you came into the picture he would use them a lot more. He also felt SUPER embarrassed at first and actually almost cried.

✨ he likes stockings, he thinks their sexy and likes to feel your legs when you wear them. He doesn’t really care which type of stockings, fishnet, garterbelts, with or without lace, with bows or prints. He likes them all. Keep em on during sex though, it turns him on real bad

✨ when it comes to traditional sex, most of the time he’s super caring and lets the both of you enjoy it. To him he’s more of a person who wants to make you feel good. Although at times when it feels too good he may space out a little because of the feeling. As in he would sometimes be rough but apologize for it.

✨ so, what is Jaegyeon’s preferences on a woman? Legs. He likes legs. Sexy, hot, thigh job. Head in between. But when it comes to shaving the nether regions, he don’t really mind? He thinks its kind of hot if you’re not super smooth. To him its a sign of maturity because pubes can actually be useful since it helps with infections. So he doesn’t mind, whether it’s bushy or just a carpet. He doesn’t mind diving into the forest

That’s all for now🫶🥶

#lookism comic #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism x reader #lookism #jaegyeon na #jaegyeon na x reader #lookism hc #lookism gen 1 #jaegyeon na headcanons #lookism jaegyeon na #forgive me for what i wrote🥶#amphitriteswife writes

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fannyspammy · 2 years ago

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Kiss Me, You Idiot

Adam Warlock x Reader

Summary: You’re Adam’s first kiss.

Warnings: no warnings, just fluff :) (if you’re looking for something spicier I’ll be getting into the more heated firsts soon so stay tuneddd 👀)

A/N: second part to the Firsts series! I didn’t expect the first part to get so much activity so quickly! Thank you everyone for reading 🥺 If you haven’t read it yet, part one is here! Can be read as a oneshot tho :)

[not my gif]

It had been a month since Adam had discovered what romantic feelings felt like, & a month since he & y/n had become an item. Adam was a gentleman; he’d never do anything to make y/n uncomfortable. He was sweet & patient, & she could tell how much he cared for her from how protective he was, & from the way he was attentive to her every need. Adam loved spending time with y/n, & he was content with the nature of their relationship.

Y/n on the other hand, while appreciative of his respect for her, was a little more… experienced in the world. And while she liked that they were taking things slow, she was beginning to crave more.

They’d been together for a month now, although they technically hadn’t put a label on it (she wasn’t sure he knew what a label was, anyway, so they were simply together as far as she was concerned), so it had also been a month since y/n first imagined kissing her golden boy. Well, maybe a bit more than a month, since she’d definitely wanted to kiss him before she even knew he liked her. How could she not?

But she was beginning to question whether he wanted to kiss her. They cuddled often, coming to their spot to be alone & get away from the crowds, but that was always where it stopped.

She tried a few times to initiate it, placing quick pecks on his cheek or his hands to show she wanted more physical affection. Adam would match her actions, planting gentle kisses to her temple or her palms, maybe even the top of her head, but he would never go further.

Adam had a cheerful grin on his face when y/n opened the door, a small metal box in his hands, fastened with a thin piece of twine.

“For you!” he announced, extending his arm to present his gift, body bent into a slight bow.

Y/n giggled at the exaggerated gesture. “Why, thank you, sir.” She curtsied.

Adam closed the door behind him before scurrying to y/n’s side, peering over her shoulder as she pulled at the twine securing the lid of the box. Y/n’s eyes widened with awe as she lifted the delicate gold chain from its metal home, a solitary yellow gem dangling at the bottom of its curve.

“Adam! It’s beautiful!” she said, turning to face him.

Adam was biting his lip in excitement, hands behind his back, rocking back and forth on his heels. “You like it?”

“I love it! But where did you get it? How did you afford this?”

He shrugged. “I pulled some strings & had it custom made. I wanted it to look like me, so that even when I’m not there I’m… well I’m still there with you.”

Y/n threw her arms around his neck & his arms wrapped around her waist almost instinctively. “Thank you so much!”

They stayed in each other’s embrace for a moment, and he slid one hand up to the base of her neck to pull her closer.

Then, slowly, they began to pull away. Y/n looked up at him through her lashes, their faces mere inches apart, silently praying that he would finally close the gap.

Kiss me, you idiot!

Adam spun her around & she yelped at the sudden movement.

“Here, let me help you put it on!”

He gently moved her hair out of the way so he could access her neck. As he fumbled with the lock, y/n couldn’t hold in her question any longer.

“Adam, why won’t you kiss me?”

She felt him freeze behind her.

“Huh?”

“Why won’t you kiss me? It’s been a month & you haven’t even tried!” She turned to face him again, brows furrowed & her lips in a pout. “Do you not want to?”

“Y/n! Of course I want to!” He grabbed her face gently, rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

“Then why haven’t you?”

Adam hesitated before answering. He slid his hands down from her face, past her shoulders, all the way to her hands. He pulled her arms behind him, & she locked her fingers as he brought his own hands behind her waist. Looking away, he sighed.

“I’m nervous to. I know I’m not the first guy you’ve been with, but you’re the first girl I’ve been with— that I’ve even wanted to be with.” He returned his gaze to her. “So I guess I just- well I don’t really know if I- I just.. I want it to be good for you. But I don’t know if I’ll be good at it.”

Y/n smiled. She had the most genuine man in the galaxy.

Bringing a hand up to his face, y/n ran her thumb along Adam’s lower lip.

“Adam, it’ll be good because it’s you.” She brought her face closer to his, & he lightly took the tip of her thumb between his teeth. “Besides, even if you aren’t good at it, you’ll have a lot of opportunities to practice.”

“Yeah?”

Y/n smirked. “Yeah. I’ll even give you daily lessons if you want.”

“Promise?” Adam dipped his head into the crook of her neck, placing wet kisses along its base and up to her jaw.

Y/n moaned softly, enjoying his touch.

“Promise.”

Clasping her chin he tilted her head so their lips could finally meet.

The kiss was gentle and sweet. Just like him. Then he deepened it, pulling her closer to him, moving in sync. Y/n parted her lips slightly, swiping her tongue along his bottom lip.

Adam was a fast learner, slipping his tongue into her mouth at just the right capacity. Soon, their tongues were at a steady wrestle, the sound of their moans filling the air as they enjoyed the pleasurable contact.

Finally pulling away for breath Adam looked at y/n, intensely at first, as if reading her. Then with a playful smirk he leaned in for one more kiss, soft & lingering. Pulling her bottom lip between his teeth he pulled away slowly, watching it plump at his release.

“How’d I do?”

Y/n bit her lip, the one that was just in his mouth, still feeling the sensation of his touch.

“Mm, might need to do a little more research first.” she replied, pressing her lips against his again.

#adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock imagine #will poulter #will poulter x reader #adam x reader #will poulter imagine #gotg #gotg vol 3 #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #guardians of the galaxy #gotg v3 #gotg imagine

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plush-rabbit · 8 months ago

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The One Where Adam Steals Lucifer's Babe

Word Count: 4.9K A/N: I had an idea about this, but I wanted to get it out. This was supposed to be headcanons, but it turned into a story!! woo(•_•) This is also not done. Like I wanted it to be be headcanons so bad, but i need to establish a plot line because im like dumb. um, so yeah. if this does become anything more, i think max three chapter Its written as if Adam is a sinner so yeah!! -

Dating the King of Hell should be easy- nothing short of bliss and love. And it is easy being with the King of Hell, when he has to make appearances, and he has to put up a front. But being with Lucifer is much more difficult. You know he’s not over Lilith, and you aren’t even close to being a replacement for her. And yet, he keeps you around. You can trick yourself that he still wants you, that maybe he does enjoy being with you. But lying to yourself doesn't make anything easier. You walk out of the castle without a word to Lucifer, childishly hoping that he’d figure out that you weren’t there on his own. On your stroll to nowhere in particular, you check your phone constantly, hoping to see a missed message or call from him- some type of form that he still takes notice of you. You have to silence your phone when you feel tears prick your eyes at the empty screen.

You wind up in some sleazy bar, a bit too tipsy, and far too melancholic to do anything more than swirl a glass of alcohol with melting ice. You watch the condensation drip down the side of the glass, creating a ring over the coaster. Beside you, the chair scrapes, and your spirits are lifted. It’s Lucifer! He’s chased you down and now he’s going to apologize and proclaim his- your shoulders fall when you realize that it’s not Lucifer. The realization leaves you cold and far lonelier than you initially were. Instead, it’s Adam- the First Man. You wonder for a brief moment if he even still calls himself that.

“Mind your fuckin’ business,” he sneers, sitting beside you. He lifts his hand, and the bartender pushes a glass and a bottle towards him, muttering something about a tab under his breath before turning his attention elsewhere.

You heard he had become a Sinner- the very thing he sought to kill for entertainment not that long ago. However, you had yet to see him since he was stabbed by Niffty. You wonder if his new form has a hole in his back now.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he tells you, malice tinged at his words, but he makes no real motion to actively wave you off. You’re sure he would have if he was still divine.

A closer inspection reveals that he’s in far worse shape than you could have imagined. A beard that’s in the awkward phase of growing out, deep bags under his eyes, and gaunt cheeks. Hell has not been kind to him. But, what else could you have expected? He was an exorcist- the exorcist- and now, he’s stuck in Hell. Honestly, you should be surprised that his head isn’t mounted somewhere.

You turn back to your drink, and wipe a line of condensation off. “I’m surprised you’d even show your face around these parts,” you mumble, taking a swig of your drink. It burns going down, and you try to hide your displeased expression.

“Fuck you,” he hisses out, taking a long drink from the bottle.

“You know, as a former exorcist, I’d suggest being nice to demons around these parts.” You raise your hand at the bartender, and he walks over, and places the tab in front of you. “You never know who you’re gonna piss off next.” You leave a hefty amount, enough to cover your drinks and leave a pretty tip.

“What? You’re gonna sick Lucifer on me?” You turn to him, embarrassment hot on your cheeks, and he wears a crooked smile. “Your face and his are plastered everywhere I look.”

With a sigh, you push the check away from you. “Must suck for you,” you mumble. His response is to take a drink from the bottle. “I hated having my picture taken before,” you tell him, unsure if he’s even listening or not. “I felt that they never really got my good side.”

“I’d get photographed all the time in Heaven,” he says in a low tone after a moment of silence. “Bitches could never get enough of me.” You scrunch your nose at the word, and fold the straw wrapper into squares. “Fucking loved it.”

“Wish I loved the camera.” You cross your ankles together, tucking them under the seat of the stool. “I hated being looked at.”

There's a pause in the conversation, long enough that you believe the small talk has ended. You could go back to the castle but if Lucifer hadn't taken notice of your absence, you'd surely have a breakdown. Maybe you could go to the hotel. Charlie would understand. “You still get your picture taken?” Adam asks, his voice startling you.

You tilt your head to the side, underneath the seat, your legs twist around themselves. “Not as often as I used to. I think it was more like uh-” you wave your hand around and the folded wrapper unfurls itself- “shock value? I think. Like the King of Hell downgrading to some resident.” You smile bitterly. “Not even a Goetia or anything.”

“A Goetia?”

“These magical birds.” You look at him. “You’ve been in Hell for a bit, haven’t you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard or seen them.”

“I don’t get out a lot.”

“‘Cause you’re hated?” You ask, a wicked tone laced in your words. Adam responds by mocking your voice with the same question. You scoff with a smile on your face. “I wonder why, if you’re such a peach.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

It’s silent. And you watch as the bartender grabs your drink, leaving the coaster behind. A memory of drinking with Lucifer pops into your head- his honeyed smile as he pours you a glass of wine that you would have never been able to afford, to even be aware of such a delicacy that existed in Hell. Never would he have taken you to some dingy bar where less than savory individuals reside.

You’ve been taken care of. Pampered and adored for a considerable amount of time, before all the light had dimmed. You should have never allowed yourself to get used to such treasures. You glance over at Adam, and wonder if he can understand. “Do you come here often?” You ask him, crossing your arms over the bar. He chokes on his drink and slams the bottle down. He gives you a bewildered stare and you raise your shoulders defensively. “What? I’m just asking,” you say. “The bartender looks like he knows you.” You catch the bartender’s eyes and he quickly looks away. “Or at least enough to keep a tab open.”

“There’s not much to do around here,” he answers.

You fill your cheeks with air and let it slowly blow out through pursed lips. There's plenty to do- sort of. Minus the drugs and sex, most of Hell's greatest features are stuck in other rings. “There’s the Cannibal Sector,” you offer. “You gotta be careful but Rosie is nice and she sells pretty things. I have this hairpin in the shape of a human hand.” Adam gives you a look. “It might be a real hand, huh.”

“The fuck are you even doing out of your castle.”

You deflate. “Rough night,” you say with a sigh. “What about you?”

“Rough night,” he answers

You nod in solidarity. “I’m not usually a drinker,” you confess. “The taste is a bit too bitter for my liking. But being at the castle just wasn’t-” it’s not for you, the pampered life, acting as a placeholder, the King- “I didn’t want to be there.”

When Adam fails to say anything else, you feel embarrassed to even say something like that to the former angel beside you. He wouldn’t care. He shouldn’t care. Why would he ever worry himself over the likes of you, when your supposed partner couldn’t. He sniffs, and places the bottle down. It’s nearly empty.

“Where do you want to be then?” His eyes are still golden, unblinking as he stares.

Gold meets your own eyes, and you flicker to the horns over his head, curling overhead much like his former exorcist mask. You look back at his eyes, at the way he holds the bottle loosely. “I don’t know,” you confess.

There’s a moment of silence, and he finishes the last bit of alcohol. You wonder how many he usually drinks before he goes back home. “You wanna come over?” He asks, and there’s a shade darker that brushes against his cheeks, and he tries to ask nonchalantly, but he toys with the words, and he swallows too harshly for him to not be worried about your answer. As if he’s asking some forbidden question. But, you’re lonely, and you don’t want to be alone in a bar longer than you already have been.

You look at the exit, half-hoping that Lucifer would be there, ready to take you to his home, and a part of you is glad that he isn’t there. You look back at Adam, and nod your head. “Lead the way,” you tell him.

The sound of the bartender yelling behind you about a tab, has you smiling, feeling as if you’re dining and dashing despite you having paid for your portion. Adam doesn’t seem to care, walking without breaking a stride, just waving his hand without looking back.

It doesn’t take long before you’re climbing up steps that need to be looked at, rust falling off with each bounce. You’re sure that you can hear something unsavory going on in a room, but a whistle from Adam has you scurrying along. There’s no reason that you should know anything more than you already do.

You enter his apartment, and take a careful look around. It’s messy- clothes strewn across, dishes left out, and you feel pity for him. A single couch is close enough to the rather small television, a coffee table that has paint chipping and dents is one of the few pieces of furniture in the rooms. A sliding door is closed, a few broken blinds giving you just a glimpse into the outside. “You certainly,” you pause, trying to find something nice to say, “have a place,” you end defeatedly. You stand near the door, clicking the lock into place, as if that would protect you from any dangers out in the world. Perhaps you should be worried about Adam, about the angel who would bear his fangs and be drenched in blood, too excited about senseless murder. But you catch him kicking things under the couch, trying to spruce up the place even if just by a smidge.

“Fuck you,” he says without conviction. He grabs at a pile of clothes and tosses it on top of a chair, leaving the couch clear for you and him to sit. Smiling softly, you take a seat. He places himself close to the arm rest, and watches as you look around. “I uh, I clean- sometimes.” He sounds unsure of himself.

“I like cleaning,” you tell him, grabbing at a magazine on the worn out coffee table. It’s some tabloid, and you see a snippet of you and Lucifer in the corner. You turn to the page where you two are supposed to be. It’s titled as “Issues at Home?” You frown, and turn to another page. “I like organizing and stuff. Um, it helps uh, Lucifer. He does a lot of projects.”

“You don’t got any?”

“I have hobbies, but they come and go.” Your eyes skim the page, talking about Velvette’s new clothing line. You pull your lips into a thin line, a part of you wants to wear her outfits, but you aren’t sure you could pull them off. “It’s all just-” you flutter a hand in the air- “you know, stuff.” You place the magazine back on the table. “What about you?”

He smiles and leans back on the couch, the cushion creasing under his weight. “I like to play the guitar.” You perk at the mention, and watch as he rests his hands over his stomach. “I was in a band. Played the guitar, got all the chicks that I wanted.”

“Were you good at the guitar?”

He nods his head. “Oh, you should’ve fucking seen me. I was like a fucking god on stage.” He holds his hands out and mimics a guitar. You huff out a laugh, and watch as he lets his hands fall. “I got to fuck whoever I wanted. And I mean, who wouldn’t want to fuck me? Look at me.” he tosses you a lazy look, matched with a sly smile, and you can see how people would be attracted to him. “I was the first dick– of course, everyone wanted me.”

“What songs would you perform?”

“Rock mostly.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Crowd went wild.”

“You’d perform in heaven?”

He shrugs. “Most of the time. If I felt bold, sometimes the band and I would do a show on Earth. I’m telling you humans would just throw themselves at you, begging to be fucked in some grimy ass restroom.”

You scrunch your nose. “Sounds gross.”

“It was,” he says with a faltering smile. He cocks his head to the side, and there’s a softness to his words. “Gross as shit, but the girls were hot.”

You cross your ankles together, and turn to face him. Your arm cushions itself between the couch and your head to watch him. “Do you not play anymore?” you ask hesitantly,

He sucks on his bottom lip, teething at the skin, before letting it go. “I haven’t tried to summon my harp- guitar- shit, thing, since I’ve been here.” He closes his hands into a loose fist and kicks his legs up on the beaten coffee table. “There’s this pawn shop a few streets down, and they have this guitar for sale.”

“Are you thinking about buying it?”

“I have other shit to worry about.” He gives you a look, a fleeting sense of exhaustion and acceptance that washes over him, that makes him feel a bit more real, a bit more like you. “It isn’t even that good.” He sounds like a child, trying to justify something to themselves. “It’s beat up, and the strings are probably worn-” he shakes his head- “it's not worth it.” You open your mouth to reassure him that it probably is worth it. That despite the condition that it’s in and the price for it, if he wants it, it's worth it. Even if he could never play it, even if it’ll never be restored to its original beauty, it would be his. You only manage to suck in a gulp of air, when a knocking at the balcony door grabs your attention. “Some fucking bird that keeps bothering me.” He looks over at you, and glances back to the door, and back at you. “I have a balcony. Wanna sit outside?”

You nod quickly, closing your mouth. “Yeah.”

He walks past the door, and leaves it open for you. Just like when you entered, you close the door behind you, half-heartedly hoping that it won’t lock behind you. His balcony holds two chairs- both different kinds and both equally as rough looking. A part of you wonders where exactly he got this furniture. There’s a dying plant shoved in the corner, the leaves brown and stem wilting under the weight of the dying leaves.

“Quit judging,” he snips.

You scoff, a smile teasing at the corner of your lips. The air of Hell is cool, wind breezing over your skin and you stare down into the streets, watching as Imps and Sinners live their lives, peacefully uninterrupted. Sitting down, your breath hitches when the chair dips under your weight. It’s quiet between the two of you, silence in each other’s company where you both just stare at the world in front of you.

You can see the holy light from the embassy, and you can see Heaven’s light- the rings that are protected by wings. It lights up the night sky far better than the pentagram ever has, and sitting under the light of it, makes you wonder if anything is different in Heaven since Adam’s death- or rather, reincarnation. “Do you miss Heaven?” You ask, before you can register the weight of the words that it holds. You turn to him, almost scared of any answer that he would give.

“That’s a stupid question,” he spits out. You don’t respond, and you stay looking at him. He turns his head to avoid your gaze, his legs stretching out in front of him. After a beat of silence, he looks ahead of him. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I do.”

“What do you miss about it?”

“Full of fucking questions, aren’t ya?” He stays silent, and after a moment, he lets out a soft sigh. “Everything.”

“There’s not many stories about Heaven down here. You know, minus the ones that we all know. The golden gates-”

“Pearly gates,” he corrects. You look at him, and he has his eyes casted down. “They’re pearly.”

“The pearly gates,” you correct, “the clouds, the happiness and peace. I just- Other than that, there’s nothing else to go off of. But I guess, why would I know. Heaven seems so far away, like some mythical place.”

“Your boyfriend doesn’t talk about it?” Adam asks with a sneer.

“No,” you answer without hesitation. “He doesn’t like talking about Heaven. Sometimes-” you lick your lips- “Sometimes it feels like he hates everything and everyone down here. Like he can’t stand the idea that he’s stuck here.” You scratch your neck, and pinch your legs together. “It’s like the memories of Heaven are too painful.”

“That magazine said y’all were breaking up.”

“Maybe,” you answer.

“You can talk about it if you want. Would make this night a helluva lot more interesting.” You look at him. “I’m all ears.”

“And horns,” you tease.

“Fuck you,” he says with an impish tone.

You smile, and kick out your legs. Your phone buzzes, and with hope, you believe that it’ll be Lucifer. Your heart sinks when it’s only a notification from Sinstagram. With a frown, you silence your phone. “In the beginning, it was easy to forget that he was married. I mean, I always knew. He has her portraits hanging, and he talks about Charlie constantly.” You smile bitterly and scratch at your phone case. “I don’t blame him for that, but-” you shrug- “it hurts knowing that he still clings to her.” When Adam stays silent, you continue. “He can be kind- real attentive and sweet. But sometimes, when he’s had a uh-” you struggle to find a word- “a bad day, he gets real low. And I hate to admit it, but he gets clingy and it’s nice to know that I can still serve him in some way.” Your fingers pinch at the bridge of your nose, and you let your hand cover your mouth. “But then, there are moments, where it feels like he’s actually looking at me- where he’s just everything,” you say wistfully, your hand stretching out in front of you, clasping around the night air. You glance at Adam, who watches your hand as you pull it back to yourself. “Sorry, I uh, I didn’t mean to ramble.”

“So why’d you leave then?”

Perhaps you’d get a biased opinion- you’re aware of how Adam feels over Lucifer, and practically every other inhabitant of Hell. He thinks of himself above any other, his own pride being the very thing that made him unaware of Niffty running towards him. You chew on your lip, your hand scratching over your neck. You need to speak to someone. No one else at the hotel will ever give you a straight answer- or at least the answer that you want to hear.

With a sigh, you kick your legs out in front of you. “I like Lucifer.” You can feel his eyes on you. “But, sometimes,” you drag the word, and your body feels hot, “it’s like he’s not present in the relationship. He gives a lot, but he hardly ever asks for anything.”

There’s a pause. “What could you even give him?” he asks in sincerity.

There’s a pang in your chest, wrapping tightly, threatening to crush your bones, and leaving you a battered and broken mess on Adam’s balcony. You can’t give him anything that he doesn’t want. He has his daughter, he had his wife, he has his title for better or for worse. All you can offer is a moment of content, and even then it seems that you can no longer do that.

You shrug your shoulders at an attempt of a weak answer. “I know that he’s still not over his wife. Or ex-wife. I'm not too sure of the title and I hate to ask. He gets all mopey and deflective.” You kick at the ground, and insecurity hugs you tightly, and drips into your words. “He stares at portraits of her, and well, it’s hard to compete with the literal Queen of Hell, when I’m just-” your jaw stiffens, and you look at the ground through blurring eyes- “me.” You stand in her shadow without even having met her. “Even when I dress up, I feel like a child playing pretend. I don’t- I’m not like her.” You’ve stared at her portraits that still hang in the palace, and they consume you. Her smile, her delicate hands, and the elegance that is so evident in portraits. It feels childish to compare yourself to someone so regal and poised.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “My ex was pretty hot.” Your eyes widen, and you turn to him. “They both were.” He lets out a sigh, and keeps his eyes fixed in front of him.

“Adam,” you squeak out. “I’m sorry.” You shake your head, blood rushing to your face, making your body uncomfortably warm. “I hadn’t meant- I didn’t mean to talk about her with you. I’m so sorry.”

“The fuck are you apologizing for?” He asks, eyes narrowed and mouth twisting to an ugly sneer.

You cross your arms over your chest, bringing them to an ‘X’ where your hands curve over your biceps. “It’s just that I’m talking about Lucifer and your ex-wife.” You frown when he gives you an ugly look. “I just- I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He gives a shrug of his shoulders, his gaze still focused elsewhere. “Lucifer already talked shit about how he banged both of them. It's whatever.”

Your brows furrow, and you watch as Adam pats his pockets, fisting a hand into one of his pants pockets. He fishes out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing on and sticking the tan end of it into his mouth. He motions the carton at you, and you pull your mouth into a thin line.

“If you're gonna bitch about smoking, you're one lame sinner.”

“Eve? He slept with Eve, too?”

“Oh shit.” The cigarette hangs between his teeth, until pulls it back into his mouth. “You didn't know.” He almost sounds apologetic. He grabs at a lighter and it takes a few clicks to light the white of the stick.

“He doesn't really talk about his sex life before me.” You slump further into yourself, your nails scratching over your skin. “It's in the past. I know I shouldn't be hurt over what he's chosen to share with me, but-” you toss your head back, and in the red sky, the stars are dim. “I don’t know. It just feels like another kick on a shitty night, ya know?”

“I’m shitty?” He almost sounds offended.

“No, no” you shake your head. “If anything, you’re like the one good thing out of this night.”

“Yeah, well, you ain’t so bad yourself.” You turn to him, your head cocked to the side. “You got a nice body. If you weren’t stuck here, I would’ve bagged you already.” You stretch your lips thin, and Adam shrugs, blowing out a puff of smoke. “You’re easy on the eyes.”

“Thanks Adam,” you say hesitantly. He holds out the cigarette towards you and you wave your hand. “I’m good.”

“So what now? You gonna go back to him?”

“I don’t even think he knows that I’m gone,” you say honestly. The confession makes you feel lighter than you thought it would. “It’s comfortable with him. It’s easy- I don’t have to worry about things, but, I also don’t have to worry about anything. And sometimes, I want to worry. I want him and I to argue about dumb shit, and I want to worry if he’s coming to bed or not, and not being resigned to the fact that I know he won’t.”

The silence is broken by the scraping of the chair, and you watch as he rises, stretching his arms above him, the cigarette pinched between his fingers. “Eve tolerated me,” he says quietly, letting out a breath of smoke. You look at him, biting at the inside of your cheeks. “She loved me for a while. She was devoted to me. But I uh- I’m pretty sure that was because she was made from me.” A hand cups over his side. “Blind loyalty or whatever. But when she bit that apple, whatever she felt for me was gone.” He speaks quietly, and slowly, as if the words and the thoughts of it were slowly piecing themselves together, a puzzle that he had long put away in order for it to never make sense. “She didn’t care what I did as long as I left her and the-'' someone below lets out a scream, and Adam turns to you, his face flashing a moment of vulnerability before he looks away and puts out the cigarette under his boot. “Well, Eve was Eve.” His brows soften, and he looks tired. “I didn’t tolerate her.”

“Meaning?” You ask quietly.

He shrugs. “I did love her. She had a part of me after all.” He looks over at you, and his hand tightens over his side, pulling at the fabric. “But that’s not important anymore.” He turns away, and walks back inside. You scurry after him, making sure to lock the balcony door behind you.

You stand awkwardly in the room, unsure of what to do next. Truth be told, you had planned to spend the night in some dingy motel if Adam hadn’t sat beside you. But now you’re here, in his dingy apartment, truths and insecurities laid out for the two of you to bear witness. A part of you wants to bid him goodnight, and maybe when you’d see him out in the streets, you’d give him a cordial nod, and remember how he listened and talked about his ex-wife, and he’d remember you in positive light, despite you only being a mess of insecurities wrapped in sin.

But now, you don’t want to leave. At least a part of you wants to continue this conversation, to keep the comfort wrapped tight around you. You tap your foot against the ground and Adam looks at you, his eyes staring at yours, unwavering from yours. You hadn’t realized just how powerful he stood beforehand.

“You can stay if you want,” he says slowly, unsure of the words that he’s saying. “Take the couch or whatever,” he attempts to sound indifferent, but you can hear the sincerity in the words, uncomfortable, but sincere. “I got a spare blanket you can use.” His teeth are sharp, and they peek out to tease at his bottom lip.

“Really?” You ask, eyes wide and you take a step forward, and he looks away. “I can?”

His mouth thins into a grimace, and he gives a forced shrug. “Do whatever you want.”

You look at the couch. It wasn’t uncomfortable to sit on, but you’re sure you’ll wake up with a sore back. However, you don’t want to go back to Lucifer, and you don’t want to go to some dingy motel where you’re sure you’ll drink until you’re sick. Looking back at Adam, you nod, a smiling teasing at the corners of your lips, and he finally looks away from you.

“Yes!” You clear your throat. “Yes,” you say in a softer tone. “I’d like that. Thank you, Adam.”

“Whatever.” He walks into his bedroom, and you sit on the couch. He returns with a blanket, and he stands at the end of the couch, looking at you. “I’m not making you breakfast or anything. You gotta figure that shit out on your own.” You nod. The only real worry that you have is that your phone’s battery is at an uncomfortable percentage that you aren’t sure is going to last you.

“I hope Hell is nice for you.” He raises his brows at you. “It’s shitty and the smell of decay is always kinda there, but sometimes, it’s nice down here.”

“Hell is supposed to suck.”

“And it does,” you say with a shrug. “But not all the time, Ads.”

“Don’t call me that.” He tosses a blanket at you- it’s thin and threads have begun to unravel at the seams, but it’s soft. “I’m turning off the lights.”

“Goodnight,” you call out, holding the blanket close to you. You can only smile when the response is a closed door.

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