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keikikait · 2 months ago

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ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part two. for part one, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 4.6k

summary: you wait up for rafe after he leaves you for sofia

warnings: ANGST/THEMES OF DEPRESSION. please only read if you're comfortable!, reader literally sits on her couch for 2 days, forced undressing (not sexually), no smut but they shower together, rafe is trying to be good i promise, i haven't finished s4 so if i get shit wrong about his house i'm sorry, not proofread

a note: ik i just posted part 1 yesterday but like. i had to keep cooking. let me know if you want a part three! also, i think this is my longest fic to date...

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

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You wait for him all day. Like the good girl he expects you to be.

You shower and pamper yourself, trying to take the edge off, but it’s all for naught. You were going to be an anxious, stressed mess until you heard those three knocks. You sit, fully dressed in a simple crop top and miniskirt, watching TV. You don’t dare move from this spot, just in case he decides to come home to you early.

The clock strikes one, and the waiting is too much for you. You're anxious, stressed, nervous; everything that you didn't want to be. The waiting feels like hours but also like seconds, the seconds ticking away painfully slow and too fast, the minutes and hours passing without your realization or intention.

You watch the TV with unseeing eyes, still sitting on the couch, fully dressed. And then it strikes two. And all you can do is wait some more. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there. You’ve already made it through a season of the show you were watching, mindlessly staring at the screen.

Sitting.

Waiting.

The sun starts to set, orange and pink hues streaking across your living room. You don’t move from your spot, starting to grow even more anxious. The tag on your shirt is starting to irritate you, but you don’t dare to move. You didn’t want to miss him, didn’t want to miss the knocks from your bedroom.

The sun completely sets, the only source of light coming from your TV. It’s just a few minutes after 6:00pm, but the room feels dark, so much darker than any other night before. Your phone vibrates, dancing across the coffee table, but it isn’t Rafe, so you don’t answer it, not wanting to miss the three knocks. Your patience grows thin, and each second feels like an eternity. Waiting is never a pleasant thing. Waiting for him is even worse.

6 PM turns into 9 PM, and suddenly it’s midnight. Rafe never came home.

You continue to stay up, pinching your arm occasionally to wake you back up. You didn’t want to miss him. You had a habit of being a heavy sleeper and sleeping in, and you knew that you would miss the knocks.

You grab your phone, scrolling through Sofia’s Instagram with shaky hands. There was no point in checking Rafe’s, he barely posted. The little pink ring swims around Sofia’s profile picture, and you click on her story.

The first story is from 12 hours ago, showing a plate from a fancy brunch spot on the mainland. The date he ditched you to take her on. The next story is from 10 hours ago, a shot of both of their hands holding cups of ice cream on a pier somewhere. He was wearing the gold Ouroboros ring you bought him, and it makes your heart clench. The next story is from 7 hours ago, a selfie of her looking frustratingly gorgeous in Rafe’s bedroom, the covers pulled up over her bare chest.

Did they fuck? Even after everything that happened last night?

The last story is from 3 hours ago, a selfie of them together outside a sushi restaurant, her arm around his neck while he looks off into the distance, a cigarette in his mouth. He’s still wearing that stupid ring.

Did he forget about you?

It wouldn’t be the first time.

You hope, foolishly, that he would text you, tell you he’s running late and that he’ll be there soon. But he doesn’t. You don’t move to text him first, knowing he won’t respond anyway, especially if Sofia is next to him.

You set your phone down, feeling completely overwhelmed. The possibility of them sleeping together tonight makes you sick to your stomach, but you wouldn’t put it past Rafe to do something like that. Especially after what he said yesterday.

She’s my girlfriend.

And you were just his…what? His friend? His side chick? The other woman? A warm mouth and a tight hole that he sought out when he was done with Sofia’s shit?

You drop your phone onto the floor, grabbing the pillow from under your head and pressing your face into it, trying to silence your sobs. It takes everything in you not to scream into the pillow, your body shaking with the force of your sobs. How could you be such an idiot? He never fails to make you feel so naïve. You thought last night would change everything between the two of you, but it didn’t.

All it did was remind you how worthless you were, that you were just his second best. Maybe the picture that you painted of him looks better in your mind.

You suddenly jump when your window slams shut. It blows open again before slamming once more, your curtains rippling with the wind. You get up, shuffling across the room. You shut the window, drawing the curtains closed, but not before looking out of them to see if Rafe’s car was parked outside.

It wasn’t.

You lay back down, resting your head on your pillow, starting to stare at the screen again. You make it through a few more episodes of whatever the hell you put on before it suddenly shuts off. Even the show’s characters didn’t want to be with you. Your head is pounding, your throat is dry, and your eyes are red-rimmed and swollen from your tears. Your heart aches, and your lungs sting with every breath you take.

You don’t even move to turn the TV off or try to fix it. You just lay there, crying in the light of the TV static.

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The sun rises, and you don’t get up at first.

You didn’t want to move, just in case he showed up, but part of you knew deep down that he wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. You fix the TV before laying back down, staring mindlessly at the screen, trying to distract yourself. You reach down onto the floor, grabbing your phone. You check Sofia’s Instagram again. The little pink circle around her picture taunts you. You click on it anyway, wiping the tears out of your eyes.

Joining the remaining stories from yesterday is one new post. A selfie of her with a clay facemask on, one eye closed as she blocks the sunlight with her hand, lounging beside Rafe’s new pool. She’s wearing a necklace with a diamond ‘R’ charm on it, as if she’s personally rubbing it in your face.

You lock your phone, putting it down on the floor before sliding it away with a flick of your wrist. It doesn’t go far, hitting one of the legs of your coffee table. You change the show on your TV, picking some true-crime documentary before laying your head back down.

You watch the show with distant eyes, feeling completely numb. You don’t know why you keep checking her account, knowing it would just make you feel even worse. But you do it anyway, because maybe deep down you deserve it. You think about texting him, asking him if he’s coming over today. But you don’t dare. You don’t want to come off as a clingy whore.

Your phone buzzes from the floor, vibrating the coffee table, startling you. You stay on the couch, reaching across the floor with one hand and grabbing your phone. You eagerly turn it over, expecting it to be from Rafe, maybe a long apology text, or even just a simple ‘On my way over.’ The phone doesn’t immediately light up. You hate that feature. You tap on the screen, your face immediately falling.

It’s just an email from your electric company about your mid-cycle usage report.

You let out a sharp scream, chucking your phone against the wall. It doesn’t shatter, but it bends around the sharp corner of the plaster.

The scream of frustration is cathartic, but it doesn’t last long. It’s quickly replaced by the feeling of loneliness that has become so common these past few days. But right now, it seems like a million times more unbearable. You start to cry again, burying your face back into your pillow.

The sun sets, and then it gets dark. You don’t move.

You can’t move. What if he comes back? What if this is the time he knocks? You can’t miss them. You can’t miss him. You curl yourself into a pathetic heap on the couch, hoping that he’ll come back. He will. He has to. He has to know how miserable you are. He has to realize how badly he’s hurting you and actually care about it this time.

But each hour feels even more hopeless than the last. You stay up, wide awake, all night thinking about him. You don’t hear a single knock. You don’t see any headlights or cars pulling up into your driveway. There’s nothing but crickets in the distance and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

You barely pay attention to the show in front of you, staring with unfocused eyes at the screen. The sun starts to rise, casting a soft pink hue onto your living room. You’ve been sitting on your couch for two days, waiting for a man who probably doesn’t want you. Two days. Two days of sitting here, hoping, praying that he would come back. Two days of sitting here like a fool, waiting for a man who’s with someone else.

Yet you can’t seem to find the motivation to get up. You can’t. Just in case, this time, he shows up.

Your head throbs, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You shut your eyes, burying your face in your pillow. You wish you were laying your head on his chest instead. Your thoughts are too loud, too consuming, too overwhelming. It’s hard to think clearly, to sort things out in your head. You’re so exhausted, mentally and physically, that you start to doze off.

You fall asleep, face buried in your mascara stained pillow.

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Your eyes suddenly shoot open when you feel your shoulder being shaken and a hand on your face.

“Hey, sweetheart. Wake up, I’m here.” Rafe’s voice is like music to your ears. Soft, low, deep. You feel his large hand against your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he tries to gently coax you awake. He’s here. After two long days of no food, no shower, no company except your own miserable thoughts, he’s here.

“Rafe?” You ask, head and body aching from two days of laying completely still on your uncomfortable Ikea couch.

“Yeah, baby. I’m here.” Rafe says, his voice soft and gentle. His fingers trail along your cheek, his hand so big against your face. He tries to hide it, but you can see the slight grimace on his face as he takes you in. “Are you okay? I tried calling you this morning, but you didn’t answer.”

You glance around, trying to take in your surroundings. You finally fell asleep, and judging by the slowly setting sun, you slept for a while. “My phone, I um…” You gesture to the smashed phone laying across the room.

Rafe sighs, his brow furrowing as he glances over to your smashed phone. “I’ll buy you a new one.” He says, looking back at you. His expression falls, and his eyes narrow. “How long have you been sitting here?”

“Two days.” You say, sitting up. You’re still in the same crop top and miniskirt, your hair starting to feel greasy and itchy.

“Jesus, baby.” Rafe exhales, shaking his head. “Have you eaten anything?” He asks, brushing your messy hair out of your face gently.

“I was waiting for you.” You say, completely ignoring his question. “You said you would come back. I was waiting for you.” You look up at him, feeling completely and utterly pathetic.

His eyes soften, his hand moving to cup your face in his palm. “I know. And I came back, like I promised.” He says soothingly, his thumb stroking your cheek gently. “Baby, you look terrible.”

“No, you promised me two days ago that you would come back.” You say, your voice growing thick as you start to cry again. “You said after your brunch date with Sofia that you would come back.”

Rafe opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again. He doesn’t say anything for a while, as if trying to come up with something to say. His expression shifts slightly, from sympathetic to something else, something almost akin to guilt. He sighs, finally speaking, “I’m sorry. I know. I didn’t realize how late it was until it was too late to swing by here.”

“So you left me hanging for an extra day?” You ask, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear.

“I’m sorry, alright?” He says, still gentle, but a hint of irritation is there. “I know I said I’d-… I said I’d come back, but I lost track of time, baby. I had to hang out with her for a while to keep up appearances.”

“Oh, fuck you and your appearances!” You say, standing up. You lose balance, reaching down with one hand to balance yourself on the arm of the couch. “Just admit that you didn’t want to see me.”

Rafe reaches out to steady you on your feet, frowning. “That’s not-… I did want to see you.” He says, his voice growing sterner, more irritated. “But I had other obligations. I had to keep up appearances. I told you that.”

“Don’t expect me to believe that bullshit, Rafe.” You say. You try to pull away from him, but he tightens his grip on your arm. “You can just dump me, you know.”

“Yeah? So can you.” He snaps back, his grip on your arm tightening even more.

Your face and eyes twitch slightly, your chest aching. You feel so stupid. Your breathing starts to escalate, coming out of your nose in short puffs. “Let go of me.”

“No.” He says, his voice hard, stern. He still grips your arm tightly, not wanting to let you go. He knows you well enough to understand that you would storm off, maybe even lock yourself in your bedroom. Both of Rafe’s hands move to your hips, pulling you closer. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

“No!” You shout, trying to pull away. You twist around, reaching down and trying to tug his hands apart. “You can’t do this to me!”

“Baby, look at me! I said, look at me!” Rafe raises his voice, finally using his strength against you, pinning you against his chest with his arms around your waist. He’s got you pressed flush against him now, one hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to face him, your neck craning. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, sweetheart.”

You squirm and wiggle, starting to cry. “You can’t treat me like this!”

His grip tightens, his jaw tensing as he grips your chin and face roughly. It almost feels like he’s manhandling you, forcing you to stay in place as he glares at you. His blue eyes have a hard edge to them. “I will treat you anyway I damn well please, sweetheart. You’re in no place to make demands or tell me what I can and can’t do. I said, look at me.”

You finally meet his gaze. You just sit in his grasp, sniffling as more and more tears threaten to fall. Your bottom lip trembles, and you wonder if you look as pathetic as you feel.

Rafe sighs, his expression growing soft. He loosens his grip on your face, his thumb caresses your cheek. He takes a deep breath, counting to four. “Come on, sweet girl. Let’s get you cleaned up.” In one swift motion, he picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder as he makes his way towards your bathroom.

“No! Let go of me!” You whine, pounding your fists against his back.

“Quit it.” He snaps, reaching behind his back and grabbing both of your wrists, yanking your hands away from him as best he can. “I swear to god, sweetheart, I will spank you if you don’t stop punching me in the back.” He pushes open the bathroom door, setting you down on the edge of the bathtub, your wrists still in his grip. He turns on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up before turning to you with a sigh. “Take off your clothes, sweetheart.”

“No.” You whine, trying to tug your wrists away.

He scoffs, exasperated. “I’m tired of having to repeat myself to you, baby. You’re gonna take a goddamn shower even if I have to force you to, so drop that attitude real quick, or I’ll strip you myself.” He leans in closer, his eyes darkening, his jaw clenching again. “You wanna be bratty and defiant with me? I can get real bratty with you right back, sweetheart. Real bratty.”

Your eyes water and your bottom lip trembles. Rafe sighs, taking another deep breath. He had to be nicer to you. “You gotta shower, baby, come on.” He grabs the bottom of your crop top gently, thumb rubbing along the hem.

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks. When your scalp starts to itch, and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, mascara smeared, you realise he’s right. You raise your arms up.

“Good girl.” He says, sounding relieved. He reaches behind you to grab the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up over your head. He can see how exhausted you are, how awful you look and how horrible you must feel. He gently drops your shirt on the floor, gently running a hand through your hair with a sigh. He reaches behind you and grabs the waist strap of your skirt. “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

You obey, lifting your hips.

Rafe slides the skirt off your hips and down your thighs, setting it on top of your shirt on the floor. He then grabs the waistband of your panties, kissing your hipbones as he tugs them off of your legs and adds them to the pile of discarded clothing. He then reaches forward, gently running his fingers through your hair. “You’re so pretty, baby.” He says, his voice quiet.

“Thank you.” You whisper.

He can tell that you’re still upset with him, and while he’s annoyed by it, he tries to maintain his composure, trying to be patient with you. He steps back, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside before undoing his jeans. “Come on, pretty girl. Get in the shower while I undress.”

You nod, standing up on shaky legs and stepping into the shower. Your muscles instantly relax under the water as you step in, back facing the water.

Rafe watches you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your body before you shut the curtain. He quickly discards the rest of his clothes. Slowly, deliberately, he steps into the shower behind you, not wanting to startle you. He reaches over and moves you a little to the side, giving him room under the water to stand with you. He gently spins you around so your back is facing him, the water hitting your chest. He glances around the built-in ledges of your shower. “Where’s your stuff?”

You point to the metal shelves you stuck onto the wall, full of expensive products, all gifts from Rafe.

He glances over at the shelf, noticing how neat and precise everything is. Rafe laughs as he grabs your shampoo. “God, you always gotta have everything organized.” He teases, pulling you against his chest with an arm wrapped around your torso, his strong hand pressed against your stomach. He kisses your shoulder before lifting your hair away from your neck to kiss there, his chest and abdomen pressed flush against your back.

He pours a fair amount of the shampoo into his hand, setting the bottle down. He hasn’t had to actually wash his hair in so long, he forgot what a normal amount of shampoo looks like. He rubs his hands together, lathering it up before starting to gently massage into your scalp. “Keep your head tilted back so you don’t get anything in your eyes.”

You tilt your head back, reaching back and putting your hands on his ribs to keep steady.

He hums in approval as his fingers work, rubbing and massaging your scalp. His body is relaxed against your naked curves, his fingers now working through your hair slowly, ensuring it’s completely lathered before he moves onto the conditioner. He keeps the conditioner in your hair while he washes your body. You reach up and grab your face wash yourself, squirting some into your hands before thoroughly washing your face, trying to get the two-day-old mascara off. Rafe keeps his arm wrapped around your upper body so you can keep leaning against him.

After rinsing yourself clean, he turns the water off, pushing the shower curtain open. He grabs a towel for himself off of the hook by the shower, stepping out. “C’mere, baby.” He says quietly.

You step out, watching as he wraps the towel tight around his waist. He grabs another from your linen closet, holding it open for you. “Arms up, sweetheart.” He says, waiting for you to obey, and you do, lifting your arms.

Rafe quickly wraps the towel around you, gently rubbing your body to dry you off. He then pulls you close, hugging you. One hand holds the back of your head, the other resting on the small of your back. He’s been craving the feel of your bare skin for the past two days, and it was nice to finally feel it again. “I’m sorry.” He says, quietly, sincerely. His lips graze your forehead.

“Why couldn’t you have just texted me?” You ask.

Rafe pauses, sighing. He was worried this would come up at some point. He tries to choose his words wisely, so he won’t start a fight so soon after the initial one. “Because… I…sweetheart, I was trying to keep a low profile with her.” His voice is just above a whisper. “Texting you would have let her know there was something going on.”

You shake your head. “You could’ve texted me and then immediately deleted the conversation. She wouldn’t have noticed.”

“I thought of that,” He starts, his brow furrowing. “But the thing is…she looks at my phone sometimes. So I just didn’t want to risk it, alright?”

You look away as he starts to dry your hair with the towel. “I wish things were different. I wish you could change.”

“That’s not fair, baby.” He says, his voice holding a hint of warning. He’s annoyed with you again, but he tries not to lash out this time, especially when taking into account how much he missed you. “You act like I don’t want things to be different.” He runs the towel over your head, gently squeezing your hair to wring out the excess water. “Do you even have enough respect to see me try?”

Your breath hitches. You watch him as he finishes with your hair, wrapping the towel around your chest.

“I love you, Rafe.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you realise you even said them. “Of course I have respect for you. Of course I want you to try.”

Rafe pauses, his shoulders relaxing as his expression softens. He smiles at you, his eyes looking into yours. He grabs your hips, his thumbs rubbing along the soft skin there. He sighs, closing his eyes. “Then don’t act like I’m evil when I do try.” His voice is quiet, soft. “I mean it. Stop acting like I’m a complete ass to you, sweetheart, because I have been fucking trying.”

He didn’t say he loved you. You don’t care how crazy and clingy you sound at this point, you have to know. “Do you love me too?”

Rafe opens his eyes, his expression growing serious all of a sudden. He pauses for a moment, searching the gaze of your eyes. His hands on your hips move to your lower back, wrapping around you and pulling you close against his chest. His chest is warm against your bare breasts, his body firm and strong. “Baby, that’s a stupid question.”

“You didn’t answer it.” At least just lie and say yes. Please just say that you love me more.

He sighs, his grip on you growing tighter. One of his hands moves up to the back of your neck, holding you in place. He lifts your chin up with a single finger, looking into your eyes. “Loves never meant much to me, sweetheart. I mean… Ward told me that he loved me, and you know exactly what he did.” Rafe brushes his thumb across your cheek. “But…yes, I do love you. You’re the only one I truly love.”

“Promise?” You ask, your voice quiet.

Rafe holds that strong eye contact for a few more seconds before his face softens more, his gaze softening in his eyes. “I promise, sweetheart. I swear on my life. I don’t love anyone else as much as I love you.” His other hand runs up and down your sides, fingers spreading across your skin.

“Not even Sofia?” You ask.

“Especially not her.” He says, pulling you even closer against his chest. He’s growing agitated again. “I told you this before. Everything with her is fake, completely fake. I’m with her for appearances. All she is, is a pretty face.”

You want to believe him, so you do. You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso.

Rafe sighs, relieved that you seem to finally understand. He rubs your back, one hand wrapping around your neck to keep you held against him. He kisses the top of your head, resting his chin on top like before. “Don’t ask me that question again, sweetheart.” He says, his voice gentle, yet stern. “You know I only love you, there’s no need for you to ask such dumb questions.”

You nod. “Can you stay tonight?”

He sighs, nodding. “Yeah. I can stay tonight.” He takes your chin in his hand again, tilting your face up to look at him. “Can you promise me something, though?”

You take a deep breath. “Anything.”

His brow furrows again, his thumb rubbing along your jawline. “Don’t ever doubt my love for you, alright? I can’t deal with that self-loathing bullshit you pull sometimes, sweetheart, you got that?”

Your eyebrows furrow slightly. You weren’t expecting that. But at this point, you’re so desperate to lay down with him that you’ll do anything he wants. “I promise, Rafe.”

He smiles, kissing your forehead. “Good girl.” He says, his voice gentler. “Now, let’s get you into bed, hm?” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to bed. He lays down next to you, tucking you in before handing you his phone. “Pick out what new phone you want.” When you look confused, he sighs. “I told you I would buy you a new one because you destroyed yours.”

Oh, yeah. This has been the longest two days of your entire life, and you weren’t even sure if any of that actually happened.

Rafe unlocks his phone before handing it to you, picking something to watch from the small TV on your dresser. You scroll through his pages of unorganised apps, before finally finding Google, typing in the newest iPhone model. You buy yourself a new phone in your favourite colour, all on Rafe’s dime. You’re tempted to text Sofia pretending to be Rafe and tell her it’s over, and to leave you alone, but you don’t. Rafe loved you, and Rafe wanted you. He could dump her himself.

You lock his phone, handing it back to him. He sets it on your bedside table, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.

If it’s meant to be, then it will be.

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let me know what you think my lovelies!

part 3 is here!

★taglist: @ietss, @loves0phelia, @drewsphswife, @pillowprincess4him, @maybankslover, @theeternaloptimistt, @jumpme300, @xcinnamonmalfoyx, @matthewswifeeee. reply to this post if you would like to be tagged! italics mean i couldn't tag you! x

#keikiwrites #f!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron #obx angst #rafe obx #obx fic #obx #rafe cameron angst #angst

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enhaheeseung · 7 months ago

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BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, cursing, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 2,072k

Note: I'm just writing a few drabbles for now, hoping to get my engagement up a bit. This is really rushed, so it’s not good, but oh well.

Part 2 Part 3

“Babe, when are you coming to bed?”

It’s twelve am, and you have been waiting hours past your bedtime so you can finally go to sleep with your boyfriend for the first time in literal months.

It’s been a while since he started working from home, and you thought that would free up some space for you both to spend time together.

You thought you guys could go back to normal like how you used to be but now it seemed like he worked even more after being able to work from home on top of his promotion.

You received no answer, and you sighed. This had been going on for months, him ignoring you and solely focusing on work. You disappointedly slipped under the covers so you could patiently wait for him to be finished.

Staring at the clock, you counted down every minute until a full thirty minutes passed.

You decided to give it another go thinking half hour may have been enough time for him to conclude his work. “Honey, it’s so late,” your voice is groggy, eyes half opened, and you’re still worried about your boyfriend’s well-being. How could you not be when he barely ate and barely slept anymore? The last time you two spent quality time together was so long ago you couldn’t even remember. “Please come to bed. I know you’re tired.”

He snaps at your words, only increasing the annoyance that he currently feels. “Can you just stop talking, damn?!” He agitatedly shouts out of nowhere, turning his head in your direction with an angry expression plastered on his tired features.

Startled by the sudden loudness of his tone you jumped a little bit not used to him speaking to you that way. “S-sorry I was just worried” you tucked back under the covers your heart aching in your chest cause of what he said to you.

He was always on edge lately, but you never received that type of treatment from him. Ever even in your five years of dating, he has always been respectful to you.

“You’re sorry?” he scoffs. “You should be sorry I’m the one working hard every day to provide for you and all the frivolous bullshit you buy, and this is the thanks I get. Do me a favor and stop fucking bothering me while I’m working,” he rubs his temples, turning his attention back to his computer.

It most certainly wasn’t the first time he’d said such harsh words to you after your constant nagging for him to eat and sleep more, but this was the first time you felt pure anger from him, and it worried you cause he was never this bad before and you feared that as time went on like this it would just get worse.

“O-okay.” You looked at his stressed back, noticing how tense his shoulders were, and you felt bad knowing he was taking on all of the work to provide for you both. Apparently, all you were doing was bothering him, but you weren’t doing it intentionally. “I guess it’s a crime to care about my boyfriend.” Your voice broke a little, and you turned your back to him, calling it quits for the night. He could come to bed whenever he wanted.

“You know what?” He shuts the computer and sighs. “I think.” he pauses for a moment, the silence getting the best of your nerves cause you were scared about what he was going to say. “We should just break up.”

His words dangle in the air for minutes, and within those minutes, you feel tears pricking your eyes and your heart breaking into little tiny bits. “Hee-“ you sat up now, looking at him with your bloodshot eyes.

“I know you’re going to run down every reason why we shouldn’t, but I’m done. I’m tired of this, and I’m tired of talking. I can’t do it anymore, and nothing you say can ever change my mind.”

You’re left absolutely speechless too stunned to even say anything not to say he would want to hear it or listen now anyway.

You’ve spent so many long years of your life with him that you couldn’t see yourself being with anyone else besides him you thought that he was your happy ever after and to hear him say he wants to break up felt like a dream a very bad dream never in your life did you ever think he’d say the words but he did and it came out so easily like he’s been wanting to say it but only now decided to.

And the thought made you upset because if he’s been feeling this way for this long why did he even bother to string you along knowing he didn’t see a future with you anymore after your guys relationship went downhill?

In the midst of your thoughts his voice brings you back to the present. “I’ll call your mom in the morning so you can get all your stuff and be out by tomorrow.” You don’t respond, and the only thing you hear for the next few hours is typing on a keyboard.

You would go to the sofa, but you’re literally glued to the bed, paralyzed by grief.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and they definitely didn’t stop once he came to bed. If anything, they got worse when you felt his warmth so close to you but yet so far away.

He tried slipping his hand around your waist, but you slapped it away. “Don’t touch me,” you say through your heartbroken cries.

He immediately retracted his hand, a little surprised at first by how quickly you rejected his touch.

He didn’t care really he just thought it might comfort you a little so you could sleep since you’ve been up crying for literally hours but it didn’t matter one way or the other to him as he turned on his side and shut his lamp off.

Heeseung slept soundly while you lay awake, crying every last tear you had left in you.

When morning struck, heeseungs alarm woke him up. His eyes shot open, and he quickly grabbed his phone, turning the awful sound off.

He turned towards your side of the bed and patted the soft material in search of your warmth, but he found none.

His eyes opened, and he was met with a few luggage bags that looked to be packed already. He sat up confused for a moment until memories of last night flooded his mind.

He heard a rustle coming from the closet, and you appeared a second later, already fully dressed this early in the morning. Usually, you would still be asleep when he started work.

But obviously, today was different.

His eyes shifted throughout the room. Most of your stuff was already gone.

As you walked to each end of the room collecting your stuff, his eyes followed you, watching your every movement.

The moment he saw you grabbing all your ornaments, he felt an ache in his chest.

You didn’t have much in the bedroom, but those little ornaments had you written all over them, and it was one of the few things that made it obvious to him that he wasn’t living alone, and seeing them all getting wiped out made him feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n?” He mumbled out while nervously picking at his nails.

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t. He said he was done talking, and so were you. Last night, you came to terms with this. It took hours, but you just accepted it.

You had to.

Were you going to miss him?

Yes.

Was it going to hurt?

Yes.

But you didn’t want to be in his life if he didn’t want you to be in his.

You continued to pick up the little porcelain cat decorations, and that’s when he decided to slip out from under the covers and walk over to you, standing behind you and taking the figurine from your hand, setting it back down where it had been sitting for the last couple of years. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in your ear while back hugging you, the warmth of his bare chest sending electricity throughout your body. “About last night, sweetheart, I was just tired and said a lot of things I didn’t mean, and I know that it sounds like a shitty excuse, but I really didn’t mean it, baby. I’ve just been so stressed lately, and I hate myself for taking it out on you. I’m so sorry I made you cry.” he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent, the one he’d been missing for months.

You hated yourself for the way you melted into his arms after all the things he said to you last night, but it’s just been so long since you felt his touch on you that you couldn’t help it.

You leaned into him, his body pressing flush against yours. It felt so good being in his strong arms again.

But as fast as you melted, you hardened up even quicker, slipping out of his grasp.

You started packing up your things again, keeping a good distance from him because right now you know you could easily forgive him, but you didn’t want to because there’s no way he could say what he said to you last night and change up so quickly in the morning you weren’t falling for it.

When you walked by him, he quickly extended his hand, grabbing you by your elbow, pulling you into his chest, and hugging you closely. “Little one, please forgive me.” he rested his chin atop your head, stroking your back softly. “I need you. Love, without you, I don’t have anything, you know that. Remember, I’ve told you so many times everything I do is all for you. I know I made a mistake, but I’m sorry. Please forgive me, please?” His voice shook slightly, and you could feel just how fast his heart was beating against your chest and the words were on the tip of your tongue, but for the way you feel right now, you think breaking up would just be for the best.

You two were living different lives, and the compatibility wasn’t aligned anymore. As much as you hated living a life without him, the thought of living a life where he was working and you were being neglected was something you hated even more.

Your breath got caught in your throat the moment his lips pressed against your neck. “Please,” he begged in between each soft kiss he left on your neck. “Say something, please,” he sniffles softly and rests his palms over your stomach.

You peeled his hand off your body, turning around to tell him that you were done straight to his face, but it was so hard cause he looked absolutely distraught. “Heeseung, I’m leaving, and that’s final.”

The sob he let out almost made you break down in tears yourself. He tried to cover it by cupping his mouth, but it was too late. It was one of the most heartbreaking things you’ve ever heard from him, and you had to leave now before you ended up forgiving him.

You quickly grabbed your things, wheeling them to the front door with him close behind you. “I can’t let you go, y/n. I-I love you.” his arms were secured around you again, and you stood there, trying to remain as emotionless as possible until he finally let go of you. “So that’s just it? What am I supposed to do without you, baby?” He asked warm tears running down his cheeks he looked so sad and vulnerable.

“You said you were tired of talking, and at this point, so am I. Goodbye, heeseung. I hope work treats you better than I ever could.” You unlocked the front door and opened it.

“Y/n-“

“Enough!” You shouted at him, losing your patience finally and letting all your months of pent-up anger get the best of you.

He stood there completely stunned by you raising your voice at him, and it left him speechless.

Even though his mouth was parted like he wanted to say something, the words just never made their way out.

The last thing you saw before slamming the door was his sad, tearful expression, but this was what he asked for, and he got it.

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

#enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #enha heeseung #engene #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen heeseung smut

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antiquarianfics · 1 year ago

Text

A Slip of the Tongue

a/n: how would y’all like an un-proofread one shot i wrote? ‘twas inspired by someone else’s story with a similar concept, but i lost it. :( anyhoo. i made you some content.

warnings: brief mention of death, otherwise none.

masterlist

—

“Me and Nina played on the swings today!” Your daughter, Ellie, tells you as you strap her into her car seat.

“Yeah? That so?” You ask. This is one of your favorite parts of your day; that is, listening to Ellie tell you about her day at school.

“Yeah! Nina is new. Her daddy got a new job and had to move them here. She speaks 2 languages!”

“Wow! That’s really cool, baby. What other language does she speak?”

“I think she said… Um. Something that started with an R.” Ellie scrunches her face up in consideration.

“Russian?” You ask, finishing buckling her in. You close the door and move around the car, getting in yourself.

“Yeah, I think,” Ellie replies.

“Did you know Bucky speaks Russian?” You ask her, sharing the tidbit about your boyfriend with your daughter.

Ellie loves Bucky, and he her. When Ellie’s father passed away, you truly never thought you would move on, and it killed you Ellie would grow up without a father. Then, you met Bucky, and he was wonderful. It was a complete meet-cute. You ran into him—literally—in a coffee shop 5 minutes away from Ellie’s school. You were in a rush, trying to get your coffee, your belongings, and your bearings to go pick up Ellie, and in your frantic fumbling, you crashed into a stranger who, rather than getting upset by being hit and drenched in a late, simply steadied you by the arms and asked if you were alright.

Bucky insisted on buying you a new coffee because “It’s my fault for being on your way, Doll. Besides, my ma’d kill me if she knew I passed up an opportunity to ask a pretty woman on a date.”

The admission took you by surprise, and Bucky later revealed it took him by surprise, too. Something about you, he said, brought out his old 40s confidence. He didn’t worry about scaring you like he would anyone else. In fact, he said, in that moment, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier, and he never was. He was just Bucky.

That day, though, you’d declined, telling him you had to pick your daughter up from school, but you quickly amended your statement to let him know you were at that very coffee shop everyday for an hour before you picked up Ellie. “So,” you had said, “if my being a single mom doesn’t scare you, you can buy me that make-up latte another time.” And, by god, Bucky Barnes was at that coffee shop then next day, waiting with your latte.

Fast forward to today, and Bucky practically lives with you and Ellie. He still has his apartment, but he spends 6 out of 7 days at your house. It’s so natural, though, you wish he’d just ditch the apartment and make it official. After all, he is an excellent roommate. He does the dishes, cleans up after himself, doesn’t hog the blankets, and—most importantly—he is fantastic with Ellie. He plays with her, he reads her bedtime stories, he cuts her food for her, and so much more. He is everything to you and Ellie.

So, when you tell Ellie that Bucky also speaks more than one language, you can’t help but grin when she rambles the rest of the car ride home about how she is going to ask him about that language he speaks—what language does Bucky speak again, Mama?—and then she is going to learn it too so she can show Nina.

Ellie’s rambling lasts all the way home, into the house, and into the living room where she drops her backpack on the ground and runs to Bucky, jumping in his lap with no warning. Bucky grunts at the impact, but he smiles fondly at the young girl.

“Hey, El,” he greets. “How was school?”

“Bucky, I made a new friend! She’s so cool. Did you know she speaks 2 languages! That’s really cool. I can only speak 1 language. Her daddy got a new job, so they came here. She’s my new best friend. I don’t remember what language she speaks, though.”

Ellie speaks a million miles a minute as she tries to fill Bucky in on her day. Bucky makes eye contact with you over her head and you merely smile and shrug, making Bucky grin.

“Russian,” you offer, as you move to sink down onto the couch next to your boyfriend and your daughter.

“Russian!” Ellie exclaims, nodding her head excitedly. “Mama said you speak Russian, Bucky. Do you speak Russian?”

“I do,” Bucky confirms, laughing at the amazed look that crosses Ellie’s face.

“Say something! Say something!” She begs.

“Yeah, Bucky, say something in Russian!” You join in on Ellie’s begging with a laugh.

“Вы двое знали, что я люблю вас? Мои красивые, глупые девочки,” Bucky says, chuckling to himself as he watches Ellie’s amazed face.

“Wow,” she says, eyes transfixed on Bucky.

You laugh. “Yeah, wow,” you confirm, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Bucky’s cheek before standing to go to the kitchen.

You make it just across the room when you stop dead in your tracks, turning to make eye contact with Bucky and attempt to gauge his reaction to Ellie’s words.

“I can’t wait to tell Nina tomorrow that my daddy speaks Russian, too,” Ellie says, lying her head on Bucky’s chest.

You and Bucky make eye contact across the room, and you hold a silent conversation.

Bucky’s eyes are widened in shock, but he raises an eyebrow at you as if to ask, “Did she just call me her daddy?”

You shrug, mouth slightly agape. Ellie has never called Bucky her daddy before, but it doesn’t surprise you. Bucky is always around, and he acts like a father figure regardless of your relationship with him. So, you say nothing, just shrug your shoulders and hope Bucky gets the message:

“I don’t know, but I’ll tell her not to if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Bucky shakes his head to let you know he doesn’t mind. Really likes it even.

Finally he speaks, “Yeah, tell her your daddy speaks Russian. I’ll even teach you some if you want.”

Ellie shoots up in Bucky’s lap, grabbing his face between her hands, and seriously begging him to follow through with his promise immediately.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She exclaims. “What did you say a minute ago?” She asks, assigning her first Russian lesson.

“Вы двое знали, что я люблю вас? Мои красивые, глупые девочки. It means, “Did you two know I love you? My beautiful, silly girls.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky x you #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky x fem!reader

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amywritesthings · 6 months ago

Text

press four for more options. | part two.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.5k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut, alternate universe (modern), sex work, phone sex, dirty talk, dom!levi, light dom/sub, guided masturbation, pet names, nipple play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part one. / part three. | masterlist

2-5-1-2.

It’s an easy enough combination to remember, being Christmas Day and all.

Pressing 2, 5, and 1 is easy. The final '2' makes you second guess yourself.

You’re not sure why you’re panicking. He’ll pick up.

(It’s literally his job, idiot.)

Fuck it.

Your index finger hits the '2' and the hashtag to finalize the combination.

When you hear the line go dead, you tense every muscle in your body.

No breathing.

No blinking.

Just waiting for that silky, sultry siren song to come over and confirm your bias that it’s the single sexiest voice you’ve ever heard.

—but it’s that automated lady you tried to bypass from the menu.

“Please enter your credit card number, followed by the expiration date—”

“Oh, Goddamn it,” you groan, shouldering the phone to shuffle your purse around.

Eventually after some digging, you find your card before she can continue a second loop of her payment spiel.

You can’t believe you’re legitimately putting your credit card information out there for anyone to steal.

Yet, if Annie’s been doing this for ages, then it ought to be safe.

Right?

After typing in the necessary numbers and confirming they’re correct, you’re so out of your own head that you don’t even realize the line switches from slight static to smooth nothingness.

“So you finally called back.”

“Shit!”

The buttery smooth greeting — or lack thereof — makes you nearly drop your phone.

You gasp and manage to catch the device just in time to hear a chuckle, graveled and low, on the other end.

“And just as jittery as last night.”

“Levi,” you greet breathlessly, straightening your outfit like he can actually see it.

You swear you hear a smile in his voice.

“Hey, baby.”

Oh sweet Jesus.

“Or do you prefer it when I call you Scarlet?”

You prefer literally anything he’ll give you, is what you want to say back, but you don’t want to automatically appear as though you’re ready to be walked like a dog at minute one.

“I’m… fine with ‘baby’,” you confess after a beat, focusing on the swirl of the marble counter below you just to dissociate to his voice.

“Thought so,” he arrogantly states before making this grunting noise, like he’s rolling his body in a chair to get more comfortable. “Are we talking again?"

"Is that alright?"

"You know it is." Levi's voice lifts, softer now. "And how's your Saturday so far?”

“Very mundane and super lackluster,” you admit. “I’m sure you’ve had a much more interesting day than me.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he replies without skipping a beat.

“No?” you ask with a smirk. “I’d say getting people off with the sound of your voice makes for a pretty interesting job.”

“Who said it’s only just my voice?”

Son of a bitch.

The phone shifts from your right shoulder to your left.

“It isn’t?”

He makes a noncommittal hum, and it runs straight to your core. “That's confidential, sweet Scarlet."

"Boo," you joke. "You're no fun."

"You haven't seen me at my fun yet," he corrects. "Speaking of fun: how are you not hungover?"

“The power of heavy tylenol and H2O? Which... I have to apologize that."

"For what?"

"Uh, I pretty much poured my heart and soul out to you last night.”

He chuckles. "I didn't mind it. Feeling any better about that situation?”

“I haven’t really thought about it since last night, so you’re already a miracle worker.”

"Oh?"

"Yeah, no joke."

“Huh." He clicks his tongue. "And what have you been thinking about?”

You say it without realizing you’ve said it out loud:

“You.”

Both ends of the phone go silent.

Your eyes widen, wanting nothing more than to take a pan out of one of the cabinets to bash your head in with anguish.

“In, like, an interested sense.”

Shit, that isn’t much better.

“An… interested sense,” he repeats, slower this time. His vowels dip deep.

“Oh no,” you bemoan. “Okay. Let me restart: I mean it in like a — you were on my mind? Today, sort of way. So I called.”

“...uh-huh.”

“Because the call ended so quickly!” you add. “I didn’t think it was going to end so abruptly at the fifteen minute mark, but I wasn’t done talking to you, so I called again.”

“You’re shit at asserting yourself, aren’t you?”

His words make you blink twice.

“Huh?”

“You don’t like making decisions or having to explain things,” he replies without judgment. “You think if you want something, then it makes you selfish.”

Ouch.

“Well, when you put it like that,” you reply in a bitter, yet lifted tone of surprise.

You hear a noise on the other end. A ‘tch’ if you can make it out.

“Sorry," he apologizes. "Too far?’

“No! Too real,” you admit with a small laugh. “And I’m sure you don’t want to play analyst-therapist tonight, so.”

“I’m here to do anything you want,” he reminds, syrup-y sweet.

“Anything?”

“Mostly anything,” he adds, and there’s a tiny chuckle bubbling between the words that makes your heart flutter. “Can’t hold a tune worth a damn and I don’t know how to speak some languages, so there are limitations.”

You laugh despite yourself, feeling your stress melt.

Then—

A small groan, like his head's tilting backwards. “Damn, I like hearing that.”

You turn away from your kitchen counter, subconsciously padding to your bedroom. “Hearing what?”

“Your laugh,” he explains. “It’s sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Very.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully.

Dark hair. Gray-ish blue eyes. Sharp nose. High cheekbones.

Fit.

When your eyes flicker to your own bed, you try to picture a version of him waiting there.

He could be leaning back on his elbow, button-down shirt splayed open like a newly-peeled present.

Maybe his legs are parted.

Maybe he stares at you like you’re all he could ever want.

His voice cuts through the fantasy, causing your breath to catch.

“What do you want, baby?”

Then it drops an octave lower.

“...c’mon, be selfish for once.”

For once.

Like he can read your soul through a damn cell phone.

But Levi is right — your entire short-lived relationship with Porco and just about any other man before him has been through a small lens. Fitting in the middle seat just to never make any noise. To bend with the curve rather than against it to create your own path.

It’s just a sex hotline, but for some reason, his words resonate.

Be selfish.

Wasn’t that the point of calling in the first place?

“Anything?” you repeat a second time, much softer.

Levi shuffles on the other line then exhales like he’s getting comfortable.

“What do you need?” he asks, tone low and words slower.

Purposeful.

“What do you want?”

You close your eyes, drawing in a slow, steady inhale.

Are you seriously doing this?

No more overthinking.

“Should I... get comfortable?” you ask, too afraid to say what it is that you want.

What you’re about to do.

“Mm, you near a couch or a bed?”

“A bed.”

“Don’t get on it yet,” he orders, “but walk towards it. Bend over it.”

Jesus Christ.

“Bend over it?” you ask with a shaky breath of disbelief.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “You’re home from a long day. I’m home from a long day. All you’ve wanted all day is to have someone tell you what to do, right?”

As much as your face feels like it's on fire, you slowly walk to your bed and put the phone down between your splayed palms.

You press the speaker option to ‘on’, and feel a wave of arousal hit your gut when you hear him sigh through the phone.

“I thought you said you wanted me to be selfish,” you remind, bending over your bed.

“You’re allowing me to take charge,” he retorts with little hesitation. “You’re letting me take care of you the way you always should’ve been taken care of. Your ex-boyfriend has no fucking clue what he’s missed out on.”

You exhale, trying to keep it together.

“Levi—”

“I’m right here, baby,” he huskily promises. “Right here. Not leaving you.”

You feel ridiculous.

You’re so turned on it’s almost laughable.

“You ready to let me take control?” he eventually asks, and you nod like he can see you.

“Yeah, I’m— I think so.”

“I like using a red-yellow-green light system,” Levi hums. “Red’s a hard stop. Yellow is negotiating, a slow down to check in. Green means you’re in.” He pauses, and you lean down closer to your phone, bending further. “Color?”

Even on speaker, his voice rips straight through you.

“Green,” you decide, blurting before your brain can catch up.

“Good girl.”

You’re not going to survive this.

“Are your lights off?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he decides. “I want you to crawl slowly onto the bed now. Can you do that for me?”

Your hand slides obediently, passing over the phone as you begin to rest one knee on the mattress. It dips with give.

“All the way up to your pillows, then you can lay on your back — but keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

Eventually you drag your phone with you as you crawl to the headboard of your bed, only to then slowly turn around and drop to your back.

“Are your eyes closed?”

With the phone speaker right at your ear, it almost lends itself to the fantasy of him hovering above you.

His lips dip at the edge of your ear, the static lost to you.

“Yes,” you exhale, relaxing into the bed.

“Good. You’re doing so good for me already, and we’ve barely started.” He pauses, shifting once more. “What’re you wearing, baby?”

“Something so not sexy,” you joke, and it earns a breathy laugh from him.

“Bet you can make anything sexy,” he tells you, and it shoots straight to your lower belly.

“How would you know?” you ask, your hand already reaches for the hem of your shirt. “You’ve never even seen me.”

“No, but I hear you, and it’s fucking delicious.”

Your breath hitches, and you can hear it; the smile in his voice.

“Take everything off, except your underwear.”

“Bra, too?”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he tells you, and it’s much less breathy. It’s certain, like he wants to check in — make sure you’re just as into it as he sounds. “Would you rather I help you take that off?”

Your brain blanks.

Slowly you push your jeans off first, kicking them to some unknown corner.

Then you rise, ripping your t-shirt off of your body, until you’re sitting in your mismatched bra and panties.

“How would you take it off of me?” you boldly ask, though you can’t quite get rid of the shake of anticipation in your voice.

“Fuck, I’d love to,” he grunts, and your face burns. “I’d be so busy pressing small, slow kisses to your neck. Reach up and touch your neck for me. Feel how I’d kiss it.”

You do.

As surprised as anyone else, you reach up and press your fingers against small parts of your neck, earning him a tiny gasp and noise of want.

“Dragging down to your throat.”

You press two gentle fingers to your skin again, following his path, before slamming your thighs together to try and relieve the heat between your legs.

“My finger would just… slip, right under the right strap of your bra.”

Your fingers dance across your collarbone, slipping your middle finger just under the delicate strap to mirror.

With your eyes closed, the motions lend to an almost out-of-body experience.

Like your hand trailing down your body isn’t yours; it’s his.

You’re his, right now.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, and you nods furiously.

“Very.”

“Good. Let me pull the other one down. I wanna see how pretty my girl is.”

The praises, the way he so easily speaks this way, has you all sorts of flustered.

Slowly you raise your other hand to pull down the strap, and whimper when you tug down as far as you can.

Your breasts spill out over the cup, allowing your hardened nipples to greet the night air.

“Can I touch you?”

The words almost make you open your eyes, as if you’ll see this mystery man hovering over you.

You know he's not here.

You wish he were right here.

“Yes.”

“How do you like to be touched, baby? Show me.”

“Levi,” you whine, allowing your shaky hands to run along your breasts.

You’re afraid, you’re exhilarated, but when you finally pinch the little buds and roll them between your fingers, you’re too far gone to care.

“Fuck—”

“Feels good, huh?” Levi’s own breathy voice interrupts your curse. “You look so beautiful like this. Letting me play with you— God, I could do this for hours—”

“Want you to.”

You don’t even recognize your own breathy tone.

Hell, you only hear him.

You only feel him.

“Need more,” you pant, and he hums with amusement.

“No,” he replies, “think I’m gonna play with you a little more right here for now.”

You accidentally pinch your nipples, harder, like he’s teaching you a lesson.

“Levi.”

“What, is my girl getting impatient?”

His girl.

You don’t even know him, but you’d sure as hell like to be.

(How easy is it, for you to fall so fast from your judgmental high horse when Annie first slipped you this number — only for you to be moaning on your bed, hands groping and kneading your breasts, for a man you didn’t know?)

“Y-You said,” you stammer, “to be selfish, and I want—”

“Shh, I’m gonna take good care of you, okay?” Levi interrupts on the other end. “But you have to do something for me, too.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want you holding back on me. No shyness. No second guesses. I want you, I want to hear what I do to you. Is that understood?”

You can’t take it.

Your one hand leaves your chest to skim down to your belly, unable to wait any longer.

“I want you to touch me,” you hiccup.

“Yeah?”

His voice wavers in the response before it strengthens. Demands.

“I want those panties gone first. Take them off and spread your knees. Feet flat on the bed.”

No need to be told twice; you hastily pull your panties down your hips, your knees, until they pool at one of your ankles.

Your knees knock together before spreading, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I want to touch you, too, baby.” Levi swallows, coating his throat. “How wet are you for me?”

Fingertips run past your lower belly to touch the apex of your thighs, gasping with surprise and relief when you feel that familiar electricity.

“Really fucking wet,” you admit.

The groan he emits is delicious. “Fuck.”

For a moment, you feel completely out of your depth.

This is meant to be a sex hotline, but there are lines blurred in your mind. Something about the sheer image of him leaning back into his chair, fucking a fistful of his cock while he has a phone operator headset against his ear, only turns you on that much more.

“If we had time, I’d spend all night memorizing what you taste like. What you feel like. How you let go — for me, only for me.”

“Only for you,” you promise, unable to stop yourself from drawing circles over your clit.

You moan, head bent back against your pillow.

“Fuck, you’re touching yourself, aren’t you?” he asks, and his voice seems less controlled now. It’s got a hint of raggedness, and it only quickens your pace. “You feel amazing, you know that? Such a pretty pussy, all spread and wet for me—”

“Shit, Jesus, Levi,” you gasp, knowing that you’re not going to last long. You’re too wound up from the night before. “If you keep talking like that—”

“What, are you gonna come for me?” Amusement tickles the question. “Oh, you can come for me, baby, but I’m gonna need at least two from you tonight.”

Your fingers press a little harder to your clit, and you keen.

“Wh– At least?”

“As if I’d ever be satisfied with only one,” he murmurs. “No, I wanna watch you come apart. Feel it on my fingers with those cute little contrac—”

That’s it.

You moan louder than you expected, the taut bowstring suddenly snapped in half.

You arch off the bed, relentlessly rubbing your fingers against your body to ride out the insane orgasm that you — that Levi has given you.

Even if you’re blissed out, you hear it on the receiving end:

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you sound amazing. I know it’s gonna be tough, but keep going for me, okay? Don’t stop.”

“It’s sen– ha, sensitive!” you whimper, wanting to stop your hand.

“Mm-mm, you said you’d be good. Be selfish, baby. Give me two.”

“But Levi!”

Everything is on overdrive.

Your hand; your body; your mind.

You imagine he’s hovering over you, working you with his hand with a near-sadistic relentlessness.

As you battle your own refractory period, your toes curl, teeth clenched.

You want to be good.

You want to be so good.

And somewhere in that overwhelming intensity, you feel it: the ebb and flow of pleasure returning, crawling through your veins and forcing you to not give up.

To give this to him.

Then you hear it: panting.

As if he’s getting off to this himself. Your eyes snap open, wide, to an empty room.

When your cheek turns to the phone, you confirm that’s what you hear:

Ragged breaths, albeit softly, with added grunts of control.

Like he’s holding back.

Something about that image of him in a chair, his hand relentlessly pumping his cock in time with your hand, your whimpers and moans, does damage.

“I need— mm— want— please.”

“I’m right here, baby,” Levi promises, though his voice is weaker. You can even hear him swallow again. “Right fucking here, wanna hear you cum so bad.”

Maybe you really were pent up enough for two, because soon you’re slipping — falling — into that blissful nothingness while your body clenches on itself, clit fluttering from a second release.

It’s less intense, but that doesn’t make it any less good.

Everything throbs in your body as you come down, panting, with a slight sheen of sweat on your skin.

You turn to your phone, totally gone in the bliss of the aftermath.

Levi has grown silent as well; only light puffs of air come through the speaker now.

“Feeling better?” Levi asks with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Shut up,” you answer with a gentle laugh of your own. “I’m… shit. I guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks.”

That statement gets Levi to laugh, and your heart feels twice as full.

“That’s one way of pillow talk, I guess.”

The man pauses.

“Are you alright?”

As if he’s truly concerned, worried about your wellbeing.

You don’t allow yourself to fall for it, not completely.

This is his job — even if it felt so real, in the moment.

“Much better,” you promise, smiling to yourself.

“Happy to help,” he hums, his voice returning to that stormy swirl of seduction and softness.

The sobering reality of an empty bedroom should deter you, but all you can do is smile.

(When is the last time you genuinely felt giddy? Excited? Satisfied?)

“Hey, Levi,” you murmur eventually, slowly sitting up to unhook your bra and toss it away. No need to keep it on.

“Yeah, baby?”

You’ll never get over the way he sounds when he calls you that.

It’s permanently stuck to your frontal lobe, obscuring any other logic or reality.

“Am I still allowed to call?”

“Allowed?”

“Yeah, even though we…”

“What, you think you get one experience and your membership is up?”

Levi chuckles, shifting in his seat — or bed — or wherever he is.

“You can call me anytime you want.”

“Any?”

“Between company hours, yeah.”

“Even to talk?”

“Of course,” he answers, softer this time. “Always to talk. Go get some rest.”

“Mm,” you mumble, turning on your side as exhaustion takes over. “I will, but only because I want to and I’m being selfish.”

It surprises you to hear him laugh again, but it’s louder now.

More prominent.

As if he genuinely enjoyed your joke.

Get your head out of the clouds, girl, is what you want to say to yourself, but you can’t be bothered to care.

“Good. You earned it.”

A noise emits from your tired throat to acknowledge him, too sleepy to formulate a real sentence.

Then his voice drops to a whisper, for your ears and your ears alone.

“Goodnight, baby.”

You press the ‘end call’ button and fall into the deepest sleep you’ve had all year.

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading part two of P4! This is insane. I still cannot believe the feedback I got in part one. Seriously, you all made my June. I hope this next part has satisfied your curiosity of how Levi would be a hotline operator.

Thank you for likes, and even more love to those who choose to reblog this to help spread the word of this series or reply in the comments. ilu xo

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk fanfic #aot fanfic #aot fic #snk fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #fic: press four for more

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truelovepolinator · 8 days ago

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Nicola and Luke are ABSOLUTELY TOGETHER and have been all along and here’s how I know

(Friends, I’ve just finished this and it is INSANELY LONG. Like, two looong book chapters long. But I PROMISE it’s worth it. I was gonna cut it into multiple parts to make it more readable, but I’m going to be super busy over the next few days, so I wouldn’t have a chance to post subsequent parts until probably Christmas, so I’ve decided to drop it all now so I don’t delay the final victorious conclusion. Sorry, it’s so long, but I don’t really have time to rethink it and try to tell the story in a more concise way. Again, I think you’ll be glad you stuck with it if you want to feel as thoroughly confident as I am that Nic and Luke are absolutely together.)

(Also, I have to run now, but I'll come back to add relevant photos/videos as time allows. But I'm sure you're all familiar with them anyway.)

So I want to start by saying something I’m sure I’ll repeat. This is, of course, just my opinion and supposition based on the evidence available to me. But I also want to say, I am absolutely, positively sure now in a way I have never been. Genuinely not a doubt in my mind, and I think you’ll agree by the end of this.

It’s also worth noting that this may be nothing new to some of you. I’ve only been on this platform for a week and have barely scratched the surface of the great content here. So this is how *I* came to the final, joyful conclusion that everything is right with the world where lukola is concerned. I had long been sure they belonged together, but was afraid to embrace the theories about them actually being together now for fear of heartbreak, plus all the confusing signals about A & J, etc.

But all that changed a couple nights ago when I finally got the last piece of the puzzle I needed to see the big picture. There were just too many things that didn’t make sense, until they did! I literally couldn’t sleep that night (seriously only got about 2 hours) and then spent next day telling my husband the story for hours (in 20-30 minute increments as he could spare them during his slow, Christmas time work day).

My husband has been a patient, long-suffering skeptic through all of this. He’s put up with my rants and constant videos I just had to share, but he’s been completely convinced from day one that they simply leaned into their friendship to turn on faux relationship vibes for PR. He was absolutely sure it was all just make-believe for the fans. No matter what I showed him, he could not be convinced.

Until yesterday. Yes, I convinced the toughest skeptic in town.

I think it’s important to start with my journey into the Lukola fandom for context. I was a casual Bridgerton watcher until this season, and had never read the books. I liked season 1, I loved season 2, and I was looking forward to watching season 3.

I had planned to wait to watch the first 4 until the second half was about to launch (so I wouldn’t have to wait for more), but I realized after about a week that we needed to watch it immediately before everything was completely spoiled by timeline gifs and clips.

Needless to say, I was beyond hooked. Instantly. Season 3 was another level for all the reasons you all know. Finally I could engage safely with the fandom, but the process from occasional Polin/Lukola content to nonstop immersion took some time. So even following the second half, there was a TON of footage I hadn’t seen.

All of this to say, I basically missed all of the World Tour stuff as it was happening, and it took well into the summer to finally see so many amazing clips and edits that I was absolutely fucking sucked into the lukola wormhole. However, I was well behind many of you on the curve, and even to this day, I’m still catching up on things.

But by late summer, I was all in. I was sailing high on USS Lukola (or I suppose that should be the HMS Lukola!) because I saw exactly what you all saw. This was clearly real, their feelings were indisputable, and everything about their behavior and much of what they said was so far beyond PR, even “faking couplehood” PR.

They were real. Even if he had this dumb girlfriend. (I say that only in the good-natured, abstract sense that I wanted him with Nic, not in a personal “actually about her” sense. In fact, I’ve never said anything hateful about either A or J and I hope I never will.)

WHY AREN’T THEY TOGETHER???

I couldn’t resist the mystery.

It drove me absolutely crazy for months trying to understand why they weren’t together. Nothing made sense, but I mentally explored literally every possibility. They’re afraid of ruining their friendship? They’re afraid of disrupting the production if it goes wrong? These possibilities at least made some kind of sense and seemed to be the only explanations I could find. But in my mind, they weren’t good enough reasons to resist what these two so obviously had. Still, I’m not them, so that was easy for me to say. I had nothing to risk in this.

One or both of them is/are secretly gay? Soulmate besties instead of soulmate lovers? I didn’t think this was the case and nothing made me believe this. Yet, I was attempting to allow for every possibility. Still, with Nicola being the super vocal “gay icon” that she is, it was hard to imagine she wouldn’t live out and proud if that was the case. And apparently she lived with an unknown man for two years. Though she does always keep her private (romantic) life super private, so I suppose who knows? And, of course, Luke had two very public past relationships with women, but again, who knows, I suppose? This option doesn’t ring true at all, but it does exist in the universe of possible explanations for this inexplicable situation.

They love each other in a soulmate way, but somehow one of them just isn’t “attracted” to the other? Certainly, if the stories about Antonia were true, that might suggest that Luke might be attracted to an entirely different physical type than Nicola. But that didn’t ring true either because LOOK AT THEM TOGETHER! He can’t take his eyes off of her, let alone his hands. And the same for her. They are magnetized to each other. If that’s not attraction, what is?

One of them has baggage and isn’t ready for a real, serious relationship? This one seemed possible. People can have hang-ups or wounds for all sorts of reasons, and letting someone in – especially someone who might actually be your soulmate – can be terrifying. Self-protection by avoiding relationships and/or distracting yourself with less meaningful relationships is a natural way of coping with baggage. Yes, maybe this one? Neither of them seems obviously wounded, but what would I know? Most people don’t wear their wounds on their sleeves, least of all during a PR tour. Still, the energy flow between them seemed anything but wounded. It seemed like the healthiest, happiest thing in the world.

People kept saying, they’re blind and they don’t see it yet. But I don’t believe anyone can be that blind. Especially after watching all the countless edits and clips of their tour, which we know they did because Nicola is chronically online and sharing with Luke the best of it all (and sneaky Luke is likely lurking also).

So at the end of the day, I had no good explanation. It just kept not making sense.

Then those music festival photos of Nic and Jake (I’ll abbreviate sometimes for ease, but I do say their names) showed up. The fandom erupted into chaos with full reactions across the spectrum including a bizarre, almost immediate burst of (not yet named) jakolas, which felt like a disproportionate response to a few photos.

Admittedly, those photos did look quite friendly, and touchy, and yes, they stood arm-in-arm. But lots of friends stand like that at concerts. And Nic is known to be touchy-feely, so let’s not go overboard, I thought. However, I did acknowledge (in my head, I didn’t weigh in online at all) that it suggested that it COULD be romantic. I opted not to freak out, because either way, Nic’s love life is her own and I want her to be happy.

And it’s worth saying here that both of their private lives are none of my business, none of any of our business, and even writing this is completely at odds with that truth. I acknowledge that. But what I told myself, and actually meant it, was that I was going to stay out of it unless and until NicLuke got together. That was the only place I would invest my energy since they’ve both said they think it’s sweet that fans ship them. If they dated others, good luck to them. Be happy. But when the time comes…

Yes, friends, the time has come!!! But back to my story.

Note that (because again, I was still catching up), I hadn’t yet seen the swimming in Sorrento photos and had missed that piece of the puzzle at that point. Throughout this time, I’d see people refer to things on Twitter like everyone already knew what they were talking about, but hardly anyone ever took the time to explain. So I got lots of glimmers of things that others felt were notable, without actually knowing any details. Those pictures were an example. Another was the Claddagh ring.

I’m very grateful to some amazing deep dive blog entries by @threeacttragedy that explained the ring, “Bless the Telephone,” and other meaty, important history that I’d previously only heard mentioned in passing. In fact, one of her blogs is what first brought me here by referral from Twitter. And if you don’t follow her, you should!

In the past week, as I started reading blogs that broke down past dates and clues, I finally started looking them up one by one and trying to put the pieces together in my head. I’d seen the swimming photos by then, but I revisited them. I dug in to try to understand the references to a “New Year kiss” from the night the friend group (Rory, etc.) posted photos together from a Soho House party. I reviewed Hot Boy Summer, I rewatched the incredibly emotional video of Luke meeting Nicola’s mom, I looked at photos of the Claddagh ring and went to Chupi’s website. I learned about the LA photos from April, both Antonia’s version and the InStyle Polaroids. I reviewed all the photos of Luke and Antonia that I could find. And I reviewed all the photos and videos of Nic and Jake that I could find. Also, I listened to “Bless the Telephone” about one hundred times. Lol.

Regarding Luke and Antonia, I had the same response in this deep dive I’ve had every time. Weird. I mean, if I didn’t feel so strongly that Luke was in love with Nicola, and if I knew nothing about him except he was some hot actor, could I see him dating someone like A? Sure. But the fact that there are almost no pictures of them posing together, alone like a couple, is weird. Even if it’s super casual and she was just his date to some stuff. The fact that Luke looks grumpy in both sets of pap photos (premiere night and swimming in Sorrento), but A is smiling happily in at least one of the premiere night photos is weird. The fact that after the Sorrento pap photos, Luke seems to leave his friend group to come home early, and then stops liking any of his best friend Rory’s photos from there on, weird.

The fact that in the fall, she posts pictures harkening back to a place and time they were apparently together, but without any actual photos together, weird. And the continual drip, drip of Likes from Luke is weird. And then when a photo of Luke in a restaurant in Rome is posted by the restaurant, she immediately follows with a video story of someone making pasta in the same restaurant, weird.

Perhaps weirdest of all, the fact that she pre-posted the LA pictures, and then he gave other versions of the same shots to InStyle. Especially the switching seats thing. If my husband and I were taking pics of each other at a café, I’d take his picture in front of the traffic, and he’d take my picture in front of the restaurant, because that’s where we’d be sitting. Across from each other. So why switch seats to take the photos? It’s not like that street with traffic was such a fantastic backdrop that we’d each need our turn with that shot? And they’re the same, with the same table number, but different. Sure, traffic moves, but weird coincidence that they each had a white truck, but a DIFFERENT white truck. So, like I said, weird. Always implying they were together, but never actually saying/showing it. Weird.

I read all sorts of theories from pragmatic (we just have to accept that they’re dating) to hateful (they’re not together/never were, but she’s obsessed and keeps inserting herself in a pathetic, desperate plea for attention and followers) to seemingly far-fetched (some sort of NDA that means for some reason Luke is obligated to Like her photos). Only the first of these seemed plausible. I maybe didn’t like it (not maybe, I didn’t like it at all), but I thought, “Yes, I guess we just have to accept that they’re probably together until they tell us otherwise.”

(Though I held out a small sliver of “but we don’t know anything for sure until L and/or N tell us themselves” hope, which remains true even as I write this.)

Now, let’s talk about Nic and Jake. First, there were those shots from the concert (discussed above). Then, I believe, were the NYC shots (if I’m not confusing the order). In the NYC shots, they were both there, but they weren’t especially intimate in any interpersonal sense. Then, the pap shots on the street posted on DM, ostensibly catching them walking home together, holding hands and arm-in-arm after a night at the pub. With those photos came an onslaught of fandom fury and gossip site reporting about how “Nicola Coughlan confirms her relationship…” Same story runs across a bunch of trashy sites, all saying the same thing and citing an unnamed source talking about how besotted they were, or whatever the quote was.

Admittedly, I was among the furious fans. Not because of what the pictures showed. Again, I was trying to be serene and Zen about them and their private lives. I believed with all my heart that NicLuke belonged together, but if now wasn’t their time, I’d have to wait. I didn’t love that I’d heard he was only 24, but I was trying to balance my efforts to be a non-judgmental person with my discomfort over that issue and reminding myself that her choices are none of my business (unless she chooses Luke!).

So I did my best to refrain from judgment, even as I saw the fandom erupt into toxic madness about whether it was true, whether he was gay, whether the age gap was wrong, whether DM lied about the date, and if they did (which they did), why? But I figured, unless the photos were very, very old, things weren’t likely to have changed in their relationship over a couple weeks, so I wasn’t overly concerned about the date.

However, I was angry about all these stories (basically the same story across the board) announcing that she’d “CONFIRMED” the relationship. It made me very angry that they said she confirmed something when she’d done nothing of the sort. I wasn’t prepared to argue that she wasn’t dating Jake at that point, but why would they all run this story, with this headline, when what actually happened was a paparazzi photographer snapped shots and sold them, then the media drew conclusions from what they saw.

Nicola never confirmed a damn thing. So why were they running this headline so universally?

I was also angry that the photos existed at all. Photos in her neighborhood could reveal her location and put her safety at risk. Also, how did they happen to be there to take those photos late one specific night? Felt like they must have received a tip. But I moved on and forgot about that part.

Time went on and I saw more and more discussion of Jake’s sexuality. I don’t really want to get into that here because I don’t really feel comfortable speculating about anyone unless they choose to explicitly come out, but I did finally start poking around his page, Douglas’s page, etc. and began to understand why people were saying what they were saying. However, I reminded myself that bi/pan-sexuality exists and I wasn’t willing to partake in bi-erasure, so I held my tongue and kept watching.

Now, at this point, I want to remind us all that Nic has always been extremely private and uttered nary a peep in public about her romantic/sexual life. And fair enough. It’s none of our damn business. Also, she’s talked extensively about how women are not just men’s girlfriends and her feminist take on many things and how it doesn’t feel nice to know that people are more interested in her love life than her work. She’s worked freaking hard to achieve the success she’s now enjoying, and she certainly should not be reduced to a woman in a relationship. No matter who is on the other end of that relationship.

(Again here, I feel the need to acknowledge my hypocrisy in writing this, but I really do genuinely love Nic’s work and spirit and activism, etc. as well.)

So, in light of her position on all of that, we wouldn’t expect her to go public with a new love interest. The fact that she was papped with this guy (if indeed he was a love interest) was just an indication of how much her celebrity and profile have grown. There’s greater interest now and she’s more recognizable now, so it’s to be expected that she’d have a harder time keeping her love life private now than in the past. Not so strange then, that she got caught a couple times in paparazzi photos at this point.

However, would she really then go public with that guy? That would mark a radical change in her behavior just when you’d think she’d want to be the most private because the glare of the spotlight is brighter than ever. Still, she allowed a public photo with him, Camilla, and Evan Ross Katz to go out shortly thereafter. If one believed they were dating, that could certainly be interpreted as a launch. Yet, as I said, would she really do that if she were dating him?

Then he started popping up everywhere. I won’t get the chronology here right because I don’t want to research the dates right now, but there was the Charlie xcx concert, in which she appeared with Jake and Dylan, who is out and proud. The Queer premiere where he was just caught in the background of a fan photo. The simultaneously released photos from the red and gold restaurant (with a mysterious third person taking the photos). There was the apparently brunch-time photo of her with Jake and two others, taken by Dylan. And most recently, Louisa’s photo with Jake and Douglas (who is also openly gay and close friends, if not more, with Jake).

I’m not mentioning all the players in all of these because it’s not critical to the story, and I may be forgetting some photos, but there is a point to all of this. First, there’s potentially a notable shift in what she’s allowing to be shared here. Again, historically, she’s never shared anything about her love life. Suddenly, she’s letting him be photographed everywhere. Also, at most of these events, there were other queer participants and/or queer content (the movie premiere).

And while she’s never allowed her romantic life to be shared, you know what she has often shared? Photos with all of her platonic friends, including her huge friend group of many, many gay men. So this trend in what she’s allowing to be shared suggests that she’s telling a story and clarifying Jake’s role in her life.

But then there’s that one mystery release, the simultaneously timed restaurant photo drops. Clearly coordinated, clearly indicating they were there together. No indication about the third party. Why? Just enough to hint that there might be something going on, and to continue wreaking havoc in the fandom.

Because remember that toxic fandom bickering over all of this? The jakolas swearing they’re in love and soon to be engaged and furious at the lukolas for “being blind and refusing to accept the truth and it’s so disrespectful to Nic ('who you claim to love') by disregarding her feelings and treating the love of her life so badly. They keep showing you they’re in love and you won’t listen!” Etc., etc.

Meanwhile, the lukolas fall into a couple camps. By this point, most have decided Nic and Jake aren’t dating, but some remain circumspect. Some scream back at the jakolas, ostensibly in defense of Jake, saying very similar things about “Jake and his friends are doing everything in their power to show you the truth and you refuse to see it.” And a variety of other responses. Everyone’s mad at everyone.

And all of it, every bit of it, keeps us ALL talking about Nicola Coughlan and Luke Newton. Nonstop, every day.

Now, we are nearing the big mic drop of all of this, and I want to say at this point that we need to remember that Nic and Luke are HUMAN BEINGS who have a right to privacy. And they are celebrities living in a world that has an intense interest in their love lives. And sometimes, we might not feel good about the measures they must take to protect their privacy. We might hate those measures. We might feel manipulated, and we are. But if we love and respect them as much as I hope we all do, we can also understand and forgive them for taking such measures.

A quick review of important factors in all of this:

THINGS THAT TELL US IT’S REAL

The Galway trip and that very emotional introduction to Nic’s mom, which looked for all the world like a woman meeting her future son-in-law

The Claddagh ring and how she’s been wearing it

The things reporters, cast, and crew have said in passing and/or posted, not to mention recent open shipping from Ryan Wheeler and Shondaland’s IG

Everything we saw with our own eyes on the world tour, not to mention everything we’ve seen in the BTS

Little droplets of NicLuke over the recent months like Bless the Telephone and (not yet mentioned above) the S4 selfie and the photo of them in costume that Nic said she thought she’d shared, but now it’s ours (while she hasn’t posted any Jake)

The absolute consistency of all of this as a story that makes sense

THINGS THAT MAKE US DOUBT IT’S REAL AND/OR KEEP US GUESSING AND DISCUSSING

The premiere night pap photos (and though I didn’t mention it earlier, the fact that Nic went home that night so she wasn’t around for A’s attendance)

The friend group photos at Soho House with Luke, A and others

The weird LA InStyle photos

The Sorrento swimming photos

The multiple sets of pap photos of Nic and Jake, including grainy night-time neighborhood photos (with a woman walking a dog in the background)

The way every gossip news outlet ran the same “Nicola confirmed her relationship” story with the same headline and the same anonymous quote

The weirdly devoted, intensely defensive jakolas/Jake stans that seem to care about nothing but Jake/jakola out of nowhere and love screaming at and stirring up shit with lukolas

The chaos and constant discussion of all of this over the past 6+ months

The absolute inconsistency of any of this with anything in the top group

So, this mystery just gets deeper and deeper, and none of it makes sense. Every time I’d try to accept that they were just seeing these other people, something would bump in my head. There were just too many weird things that didn’t quite make sense and the biggest, weirdest one of them all was that NICOLA AND LUKE ARE CLEARLY IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER.

So while the pieces would always almost fit, the puzzle never quite took shape. Until two nights ago when I stumbled on @lukolafan ’s page after they liked one of my posts. I scrolled down their page and found a link labeled “Lukola PR Strategies and Fake Narratives.” I cannot scream this loudly enough. GO VISIT THAT LINK!!!!! (I’ll add the links myself later if I have time.)

I did and it led to a series of Reddit posts taking an academic approach to teaching us, the general public (and lukola fans) PR Media Literacy. Among the various topics it discussed were things like:

“PR Firms and Entertainment Media: Coordinating “News” Across Gossip, Entertainment, and Official Publications,” which talks about using anonymous sources, more about staged paparazzi, and repeated narratives (“outlets echo identical stories, reinforcing PR-approved messaging, for example, multiple outlets platforms describing a celebrity ‘rising above’ a controversy, quoting the same anonymous insider” – Sound familiar?)

“The Invisible Hand of Celebrity Privacy: How PR Fabricates Narratives and Manipulates Fans,” which includes ways that PR strategies intentionally manipulate fans to fight/debate celebs faking relationships, and more (sound familiar?)

There’s honestly so much meat in all of these (there are a couple others as well) that they are ALL worth reading. There is definitely some repetition, but still, the content is super insightful and revealing and can help us all be more savvy consumers of media.

But I want to focus on two CRITICAL posts, in particular.

“The Role of Staged Paparazzi and Gossip Outlets in Celebrity PR Campaigns”

The first part of this piece talks about the method for staging fake paparazzi photos to create narratives. Two items of particular note (and I’m excerpting directly):

Quality Control of the Image: While professional photographers use high-quality cameras, staged paparazzi photos are intentionally manipulated to appear grainy or blurry. This adds a layer of authenticity to the photo, making it look as though the photographer stumbled upon the celebrity by chance.

Extra Figures in the Background: Another key tactic in staged paparazzi photos involves the use of background extras—people who might be walking with dogs, pushing strollers, or simply in the vicinity.

Think of Nicola’s photos walking home with Jake, a woman walking a dog behind them. Some of them are clear, but some are quite grainy, despite the fact that professional photographers have great equipment and are more than capable of taking a night-time shot.

Another excerpt…

Gossip Outlets: DeuxMoi and the Symbiotic Relationship with PR Firms

With the rise of user-generated content and anonymously submitted tips, gossip websites have become integral to the modern celebrity PR machine. Sites like DeuxMoi thrive on rumors and speculation, providing a platform for fans and anonymous sources to share celebrity gossip. PR teams exploit these platforms to feed their desired narratives without appearing to directly control the flow of information.

How Gossip Sites Like DeuxMoi Work:

Anonymous Tips and Leaks: PR teams often send anonymous tips to gossip outlets, offering details about celebrity activities or sightings. These tips are deliberately vague, leaving room for interpretation and speculation. Once posted on sites like DeuxMoi, the stories tend to snowball as they are shared across social media and republished by larger outlets.

Fueling Speculation: These posts generate buzz and speculation, keeping celebrities in the public eye without any direct confirmation. Gossip sites become a key player in amplifying the narrative, as fans, influencers, and media outlets continue to discuss and spread the information.

Mutual Benefits: While gossip sites operate independently, there is a mutual benefit to the relationship between them and PR teams. Gossip sites thrive on traffic and engagement, while PR teams can ensure their client’s name stays relevant in the public discourse. By subtly feeding stories, PR teams maintain control over how their celebrity’s narrative unfolds.

The piece goes on to give specific examples like Kendall Jenner and Bad Bunny, Tomdaya, Gigi Hadad and Zayne Malik, etc. then talks about fake fan interactions and how to spot them.

It offers key questions to ask about the photos you see (like what story is it telling and why and who benefits?) and then it gives this example. If your ears aren’t already fully perked, this will do it:

Example: 37-Year-Old Famous Actress and 24-Year-Old Lesser-Known Celebrity

Narrative of Romance or Distraction: In this case, the 37-year-old actress is likely fueling rumors of a relationship with the 24-year-old to either distract from something else in her personal life (like a real romantic partner) or to refresh her public image. The younger celebrity could be hired to play a temporary love interest or interest figure in the media, leading people to speculate whether they are more than just friends.

Creating a Romance or Mystery: The photo of them walking arm-in-arm, laughing, or holding hands might suggest that a romantic connection exists. This could be used to make the actress seem more relatable, desirable, or single, even if there is no romantic involvement behind the scenes.

Diverting Public Focus: If the actress is privately in a relationship with another celebrity or involved in an ongoing controversy, the staged photo with the younger celebrity helps to deflect attention. By inserting a "mystery romance," the public is more interested in who the new partner is, leaving the actress’s real partner or issues to stay out of the spotlight.

PR Stunt to Revitalize Publicity: The actress might not just be looking for romantic gossip but also fresh exposure. A curated paparazzi shot could serve as a PR tool to keep the actress's name in circulation—be it through romantic rumors, new partnerships, or simply new media content to fuel speculation.

Potential Body Double for Real Partner: If the real partner is shying away from the public eye or trying to avoid the media, the younger celebrity might act as a "body double" or decoy. This helps maintain an image of the actress being in a public relationship, while allowing her to keep the real relationship.

Don’t think I need to explain the relevance of this very specific example. There’s a lot more in the post, but I’ll move on for now to the next key post.

“Breadcrumbing and Coordinated Campaigns”

In this piece, they offer first some key breadcrumbing tactics, many of which sound awfully familiar.

Common Types of Breadcrumbs:

Cryptic Social Media Posts: Celebrities post vague messages or abstract references, sparking fan theories. Example: Harry Styles posts cryptic images or quotes, prompting speculation.

Coordinated Social Media Timing: PR teams synchronize posts to create the illusion of a shared narrative. Example: Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss posted similar content at the same time, fueling relationship rumors.

Accidental Social Media Interactions: Liking posts or commenting on ambiguous tweets creates intimacy and speculation. Example: Kendall Jenner engages with fans on social media, fueling rumors.

Seemingly Innocent Photos: Casual photos subtly hint at a larger narrative. Example: Zendaya and Tom Holland posted photos together, teasing their relationship.

Cryptic? Like Bless the Telephone? Or a mysterious left-handed guy holding a phone in the background while Nic gets ready?

Synchronized like Nic and Jake at that restaurant? Or as far as that goes, like Nic and Luke with the S4 selfie?

Accidental social media interactions? I didn’t go into that here, but we’ve seen lots of odd likes and things, lots of Nic interactions, oh, and those RW and SL likes of late.

Seemingly innocent photos. Like very happy looking S4 pics and the “now it’s yours” BTS photo?

Perhaps most of this could be interpreted as just genuine fan interaction and fan service, which I think it is to some extent. It’s a natural part of the business. But it’s also very often done with intention.

But here’s the more important part of this piece. It gives some case studies (Ben and JLo, Shawn and Camila), then it gives two “abstract” examples.

YOU’LL LOVE THIS. Note that the second example changes to an actor and a musician, but don’t let that fool you. Keep reading for some unmistakable specifics.

Breadcrumbing with a Fake PR Girlfriend: Case Study of Celebrity 007

For Celebrity 007, breadcrumbing is used to create a false narrative about a relationship with a PR girlfriend. This helps maintain fan interest while deflecting attention from the celebrity’s true personal life.

How It Works:

First Breadcrumbs: The PR strategy begins with posts from both the celebrity and the PR girlfriend, hinting at a connection without confirming it. Example: Celebrity 007 posts a picture from a Paris restaurant or cafe in LA and the PR girlfriend shares a similar post from the same location but from a different day with different white trucks in the background (double check the Instyle Stunt images!!!)

Expanding the Narrative: Shared travel posts and indirect interactions continue the illusion of a relationship. Example: Matching geo-tags in posts from Rome suggest they were there together.

Indirect Engagement: Likes, comments, and ambiguous interactions increase intrigue without confirming the relationship. Example: The PR girlfriend comments, “Great to be here with you! 💖,” on Celebrity 007's post.

Paparazzi Shots: Carefully timed candid shots further reinforce the illusion of a relationship. Example: Paparazzi photos of Celebrity 007 and the PR girlfriend walking hand-in-hand, fueling speculation.

Note:

Café in LA, same location, different trucks?

Matching tags in Rome?

Likes and ambiguous interactions

Carefully timed (say at a premiere party) candid paparazzi shops w gf walking hand-in-hand

And then there’s the next one. In the interest of length since this is already hella long, I’ve removed some less relevant parts, but I encourage you to read it yourself.

Breadcrumbing to Hide a Real Relationship: Case Study of Celebrity 009

Why Hide the True Relationship?

In celebrity culture, the decision to keep a relationship private—or hidden—can be a strategic move, driven by a mix of personal privacy and professional interests. Some celebrities may choose to share their personal lives openly, but for others, particularly those who value their privacy or wish to control their public image, keeping a relationship private is key. This is especially relevant for two celebrities who are romantically involved but prefer to maintain discretion, despite public curiosity about their relationship.

Whether it’s a high-profile couple like Beyoncé and Jay-Z, or a less conspicuous pairing, the decision to hide the true nature of a romantic relationship often involves balancing personal desires with career strategy. In this scenario, let’s explore why two celebrities might choose to keep their relationship under wraps and the complex PR considerations that lead them to do so.

Media Scrutiny/Escaping Constant Surveillance: Navigating the Spotlight Together (I’ve combined two sections here for length)

When two celebrities become romantically involved, the media will inevitably take notice. The relationship can quickly become the focal point of constant headlines, paparazzi photos, and gossip columns. For celebrities who value their privacy, this level of scrutiny can feel overwhelming, as every public appearance or moment shared can quickly turn into speculation, even if the couple doesn’t wish to attract attention.

Romanticized Expectations: The Pressure of Perfection

Media scrutiny often creates an unrealistic, romanticized version of a celebrity relationship. Fans and the public tend to project their fantasies onto famous couples, imagining them as the perfect, unbreakable pairing. The real complexities of a relationship—differences, compromises, and struggles—often don't fit neatly into the idealized narratives created by the public.

For a couple like Actor A and Musician B, the pressure to live up to these idealized expectations can be exhausting. By choosing to keep their relationship private, they can avoid the constant pressure to fit into a preconceived mold. Hiding the relationship from public view allows them to keep things grounded and avoid being turned into a media spectacle.

Brand Control: Managing the Image of "Singleness" or "Availability"

For many celebrities, their public image is closely tied to their brand, and that brand may depend on their perceived "availability" or their status as desirable, unattached individuals. The way the public perceives a celebrity’s romantic life—whether they are single, dating, or in a long-term relationship—can have a significant impact on their professional success and marketability.

Creating Room for Desire: The Allure of the Single Celebrity

Consider Actor A, a leading man known for portraying romantic heroes on screen. The public’s perception of Actor A as a single, unattainable figure is key to their marketability, both in the media and as a brand. If they were to publicly reveal a relationship with Musician B, it could diminish that aura of unattainability. Similarly, Musician B may want to maintain a flirtatious public persona, which could be undermined if they were publicly involved with someone. By keeping the relationship private, both celebrities retain the allure of being desirable and unattached, feeding into the fantasies of their fans.

Avoiding the "Couple" Brand: Risk of Being Reduced to a Package Deal

When a high-profile couple’s relationship is made public, they may become known less for their individual work and more for their collective identity as a couple. In some cases, the couple's public appearances or shared brand messages may overshadow their individual projects. Think of Beyoncé and Jay-Z, who have an incredibly powerful couple brand that often eclipses their solo endeavors in the media. For celebrities like Actor A and Musician B, the fear of being seen as a "package deal" might drive them to hide their relationship. This allows both to maintain their distinct identities, keeping their projects and brands separate and preventing the public from viewing them solely as a pair.

Respecting Boundaries: The Vulnerability of Celebrity Relationships

Even when two celebrities are involved, the vulnerabilities of a relationship can become the focus of media attention if they go public. Romantic relationships—especially those in the high-pressure world of celebrity—are often fraught with ups and downs. The public might demand to know every detail, fueling rumors of breakups, infidelities, or relationship drama. By keeping their romance under wraps, Actor A and Musician B can avoid becoming the subject of constant gossip and can maintain some semblance of normalcy in their private lives.

Avoiding Disruptive Publicity

Celebrity relationships often attract media scrutiny not only about their romantic lives but also about how their relationship affects their careers. The public and the media often delve into the smallest details, speculating about how the relationship might impact their professional trajectories, previous relationships, or future projects.

Career Disruption: The Challenge of Balancing Love and Work

For celebrities like Musician B, a new relationship can take attention away from their upcoming album release or concert tour. The media’s obsession with their personal life might overshadow the launch of a new professional project. Similarly, if Actor A is in the middle of promoting a film or preparing for a big role, the press could focus more on their relationship than their craft, disrupting the flow of their work.

I won’t bother reviewing the relevance of all of the above. I’m sure you can see it plainly for yourself. The examples are absolutely, positively referencing Nicola and Luke, and the reasons for hiding it are super relevant. Especially boundaries, disruption, pressure to be perfect, and being reduced to a package deal.

Now at this point, it’s worth asking the question, do we trust this source? I don’t actually know who posted this content, so I can’t verify their credentials. Perhaps this is yet another PR person’s tricky efforts to continually confuse us and keep us guessing? That seems unlikely since the entire purpose is to help lift the veil on all the other tricks. If you wanted the other tricks to be effective, you’d hardly be revealing them to your target audiences.

But even setting that very logical assumption aside, the reason I know with every fiber of my being that it’s true is that this is literally the only version of events that makes sense of absolutely everything.

All those mysterious and confusing signals, all those weird photos and changes in behavior, all the inconsistencies between what we all saw with our own eyes (they are IN LOVE) and what we saw subsequently with the adjacents, all the tiny Lukola crumbs keeping us hanging on, and all the fandom bickering, especially from bizarrely rabid jakolas.

Every bit of it makes complete sense if we accept that Nic, Luke, and their PR teams have been using a classic PR handbook to distract us from the very real truth that they are together and in love.

Does it hurt to know we’ve been manipulated? You bet it does! But I quickly accepted that because I was so happy to have the truth verified at last. And because I understand why they would do it.

Relationships are hard enough when lived in private. No relationship, no matter how much people love each other, is without challenge. Even soulmates have issues to navigate. Can you imagine the pressure on them if the whole world was watching?

And their lives have added challenges. Travel and separation. Long work schedules that may often be at odds. Possibly romantic scenes with future co-stars that could stir up uncomfortable feelings. Career ups and downs that may not always synch up. Fans and media watching their every move, dissecting them, judging them, rooting for them, and just putting massive pressure on them. What if they fail? They’re letting down the whole world, not just themselves.

And what about Nic’s longstanding demand for privacy? And her emphasis that no woman is just some dude’s girlfriend. She wants to be known for her own work and achievement and passions, not for who she dates or marries. Even if it is wonderful Luke.

Likewise, Luke is just now achieving a newfound level of success. This is a moment for him to seize and make the most of. Being a hot, sexy, ostensibly single guy is good for his brand right now. Even if we know he loves Nicola, his stans need to be able to fantasize about him, which is easier if his relationship is unconfirmed.

And let’s face it, if they come out as a couple, IT WILL BE LUKOLA all the time. That will be the story. Certainly if they’d come out during the World Tour, every question at every stop would be about them and their personal “friends to lovers story.” It would be irresistible to reporters. Too good a story to ignore. And they’d spend way more time talking about their personal lives than about their work. Does that sound like something either of them would want?

And one last thing. Back to their changes in behavior. Does it make more sense that Nicola, who has always been super private about her love life, would suddenly be willing to be photographed constantly with her new bf Jake? Or that Jake is not her bf and she’s keeping her actual bf (or fiancé or husband) secret?

Meanwhile, Luke, who has always been open about his relationships in the past suddenly decides to tighten up and share absolutely nothing about his private life? Well, that makes complete sense if he’s now in a relationship with a woman who is famously private and shares not one word publicly. Suddenly, literally everything makes sense and is entirely consistent.

So there it is, folks. To me, this is the Holy Grail. There’s not a doubt left in my mind about them. They’re together and everything else – literally everything else – is a decoy and a distraction, and every bit of it comes straight from the PR playbook.

I’d like to maintain a sliver of hope that they’re leaving much of it to their teams and they’re not in on the worst of it, but in any case, I don’t blame them one bit for trying to protect their love. It’s too special to let it be destroyed by public consumption. You gotta do what you gotta do.

Given that I don’t actually know them and haven’t confirmed anything directly, I’ll leave 1.5% room for doubt, and adjust my certainty to 98.5%.

And you may dismiss all of this and draw very different conclusions, which is okay, too. But if I’m being really honest, I’m actually 1,000% sure. And I couldn’t be happier for them.

What do we do now? That’s up to each of us. Personally, I’m going to be blissfully happy for them, not sweat any of the distractions, let them live as quietly as they like, and patiently await the day (whether it’s very soon or far in the future) when they finally go public. I hope you’ll do the same.

And until then, I’m going to keep watching Lukola videos on repeat.

#lukola #luke newton #nicola coughlan #polin #polin bridgerton #nicluke #lukola is real #I've never been more sure of anything #then again #But it's all true and I can prove it

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chlorinecake · 6 months ago

Note

sunghoon.

= 𝓙𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 ── P.SH 💬

in which your long distance bf craves your contact...

pairing. ⌂ needy boyfriend sunghoon x f. reader ⌂ contains. mostly suggestive content but with tons of explicit implications, flirting, a bit of fluff, somewhat perv!hoon, long distance relationship au (sawie) ⌂ word count. 1160 🖱 ⑅ path to bookshelf ◍

❝ Incoming Call from Sunghoon ❄️ ❞

Your laptop screen read spontaneously.

Ahh, yes… the love of my life among many other luxuries, you smiled within yourself, just as you pressed the green ‘answer’ icon.

Though, it had been roughly thirty minutes since then, with the clock on your computer screen now displaying an oddly habitual series of digits...

2:57am

You and your boyfriend's conversation started off strong with wholesome pleasantries and heartwarming exchanges as usual…

But as the hour grew wearier, the topics on the table became more and more raunchy by the minute… not that you were complaining, that is…

And neither was he…

It had literally been over a week since Sunghoon last saw you in the flesh… since he last got to feel you in his arms or taste you on his tongue…

And so, FaceTiming had become a great method for you two to stay in touch on a more personal level whenever he was away for work.

Click.

You got up from your bed to make sure that your bedroom door was locked, but also to make sure that Sunghoon knew you were wearing his favorite pair of plaid pajama pants...

The one's he had sent as an “X-mas in July” gift...

“Your ass looks good in those,” he started from behind the screen, folding his toned pale arms over the pillow he laid on.

“Just wait til you see what's hiding underneath,” you returned seductively, adding the word “tomorrow” at the end to which Sunghoon sighed.

“Right, because I've already been waiting forever and a day to relieve my sexual tension this week… another day to the prison sentence wouldn’t hurt…”

“Awww,” you pouted facetiously at him, “I thought you liked it whenever I teased you.…”

“In-person, sure. That’s when I can handle it, but online? Pfft,” he says, running an impatient hand through his hair.

“Fine… let’s play a game to take your mind off of things—”

“I bet I can guess what color panties you’re wearing right now…”

“Sunghoon!?” You exclaimed with shock, making your boyfriend smirk shamelessly at your adorable reaction, “and do you expect some sort of reward if you guess correctly?”

“After three tries, yes,” he nodded, clearing his throat slightly before proceeding with his series of guesses.

“Hmm,” he began, “are they that one lacy black pair you have with the bows on the side?”

“No,” you answered while laughing, “and just guess a color, not a specific pair…”

“Alright alright… hmm,” he hummed in thought, looking above as if an answer would fall from the sky.

“White?”

“Guess again,” your voice sang playfully this time, “you have one chance left now…”

“Shit, okay… I have a suggestion then…”

“Uh oh, plot twist,” you said, making him chuckle slightly, “go on…”

“How about you just show me your panties and then I’ll tell you what color they are?”

“Gosh, you really know a way to a woman’s heart, don’t you Hoon?” You asked rhetorically, ‘tsking’ at his fraudulent suggestion.

“Of course I do… taking a guess here, but you’re supposed to start between her legs, right?”

You shook your head at your boyfriends words, letting an exaggerated sigh escape your lips… “Even if that were true, it’s not like it’d benefit you right now, anyways…”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because you’re behind a screen,” you began matter-of-factly, “miles and miles away with only your right hand and some amateur porn to keep you company…”

“But I have you, too, princess,” he smiled, adjusting himself on the mattress so he could get closer to the camera, “unless you’re thinking about leaving me already…”

“Please, I would never,” you say in an almost offended tone, “that would be child neglect…”

“Oh, so you’re my mommy now?”

You gave him the best side-eye you could muster, making him chuckle at how you cute you looked in your oversized glasses…

“If you’re into that, sure,” you finally answered.

“Well then your baby wants to see his mommy’s tits,” he replied almost instantly, innocently nuzzling his chin into his pillow, “and without the bra this time, thanks…”

“I’m not showing your sick ass shit,” you returned while laughing, throwing up a few ‘L signs’ with your fingers as he chuckled at your rejection, showcasing his pearly fangs.

Letting himself calm down from laughing, he cleared his throat before speaking again, “My next guess is white, then…”

“But you already guessed white earlier?”

“And I’m guessing it again,” he repeated, making you quirk a suspicious brow at him.

“If you’re trying to imply that I creamed my pants, you’re wrong.”

“Oh my God, ____,” he sighs dramatically, adjusting his laying position on his bed once more, “can you just tell me that I’m right so we can fuck already?”

“Oh, so you waited all this time to tell me that sex was supposed to be the reward?!”

“Well, yea, I figured it was obvious,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Damn, Hoon… when you put it like that, it makes me think my body’s all you want…”

“You know that’s not all I want, baby,” he corrected, licking his lips while stretching out the tiredness in his back, “I just don’t like being in the position to beg for it, y’know?”

“Welcome to my world…” you said.

“Thanks for having me,” he smiled back, rubbing his eyes as a frustrated groan left his mouth.

“What’s the problem now, you big baby?”

He hid his face in his pillow before speaking, “I’m horny and youuuu are not helping…”

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s attempt to fault you for his frustration, “I wouldn’t be much help to you anyways given the distance…”

He abruptly lifted his head from the pillow to flash you a dumbfounded look, “Babe… why’re you acting like e-sex doesn’t exist?”

“Because it’s literally 3 am and I trust that you can be patient til I can see you properly,” you clarified, adding yet another “tomorrow” at the end of your sentence.

And all Sunghoon could bring himself to do at this point was pout, hiding his face in the pillow once again which made you giggle at his sulking.

“Babyyyy…. C’monnn, you can wait for me, can’t you?” You asked in a sickeningly sweet tone, tilting your head at him in a cooing manner.

“I’m literally two seconds from slapping my dick against the screen because of your face right now,” he confessed shamelessly, making you burst into a fit of laughter.

“You’re so out of pocket for saying that,” you giggle, covering your face slightly to hide how flustered you appeared.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he said, a giggle still present in your throat as you tried regathering your emotions.

“Continue, continue…” you whisper with a warm smile on your face now, looking like a split image of the crying emoji in this moment.

“Thank you,” he scoffed with feigned offense, “but yes… I can wait til tomorrow… just for you, angel…”

tysm for reading this quick lil fic ✗⚬ﾒ𝟶 a/n ℓօⓥe always ⋆⋆⋆

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hannieehaee · 1 year ago

Text

them accidentally ditching you on your bday pt. 2 - hhu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, conflict resolution, direct continuation to this, fluff, happy ending, etc.

part 1

wc: 3889

a/n: literally so many ppl requested thisjhdf im glad u guys liked it!! im working on vu and pu versions for this rn btw <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

seungcheol sat there for a minute or so, simply pondering at what had just happened. it was 100% his fault, that was something he was very well aware of. he knew that it had simply slipped his mind, but that did not wipe away the hurt he saw in your eyes upon entering your shared apartment. knowing that you had been waiting for him all day made him feel like an asshole. he couldn't believe that he had forgotten about your birthday even upon coming home at midnight the night prior. he felt like such a hypocrite, always whining at people to give him royalty treatment on his birthday but absolutely ignoring you during yours. you, his most favorite person.

he felt hurt that you had decided to spend the night with some friends, instead of in the arms of your boyfriend, but he understood. this was what he deserved. god knew that he wouldve pulled out all the dramatics if you had done the same to him, which was why he was now at a standstill, not knowing what he should do. he wanted to see you so badly, get on his knees and apologize, letting you know over and over again that you were the most vital person in his life and that forgetting you was something that not even he could forgive himself for.

now, he could've sat there and lamented himself over his stupid mistake, or he could run after you before you made it out of the building. he did not want you going to bed angry, or much worse, sad, so he picked the latter and got off his ass to chase after you, not caring about his current exhaustion as he took the stairs rather than the elevator in order to be able to catch up to you before you made it to your car.

luckily for him, he was able to catch you just as you stepped out of the elevator (having ran down five flights of stairs and almost injuring himself in the process), completely unsuspecting to his sudden ambush. he hadn't noticed until now, but you had dressed up, clearly ready to go clubbing or partying with your friends. he felt bad to get in the way of your plans. no, he felt horrible to accidentally ditch you and then ruin your plans. but he needed to at least try and make amends. he knew that if this were him, he'd want you to try and make it up to him.

you jumped back a bit at seungcheol's sudden apparition as you rounded the corner upon exiting the elevator, seemingly not having expected him to come after you.

"cheol, what are you doing?", you didn't seem mad, but your tone let him know you were clearly not content with him.

okay, he didn't think as far as this. his main goal was just to convince you to stay, then he would come up with a way to make it up to you.

"baby, i ... i'm so sorry. i know how hypocritical this is coming from me. i never meant to forget, you know that! there's nothing i can do to make up for having forgotten about you today, but please, please let me try."

"cheol .. i don't know," you paused, "last year when i texted you at 12:03 you complained about it for over an hour. you're the one always making a big deal about this. i assumed you'd care when the shoe was on your foot, but apparently not."

"i do! i do care. baby, please. let me take you out. ditch your friends. i'll take you somewhere. anywhere. i'll even take you out tomorrow too! i'll take the day off. how does that sound?"

"you cant take the day off, cheol. you're an idol-"

"i dont care! they can come and try to drag me away from you if they want. i want to be with you. please let me. please don't leave. cant stand the thought of you going to sleep alone after what i did."

you chuckled at the first half of his statement, feeling touched at the second part of it.

"are you sure?"

he scoffed, deciding to go on a leap and hold onto your hands, pulling you closer to him, "yes! there's nothing i wanted to do more today than be with you! it mightve slipped my mind that today was the day, but i had a beautiful day for us planned, baby. will you let me show you? please?"

cheol knew it was hard for you to say no to him, specially when he whined and pouted at you, giving you his best performance in order for you to understand how badly he felt. it didn't take much more for you to break, finally letting a smile graced your face as you squeezed his hands in yours.

"you better make this worth my while, choi seungcheol," god, he hated when anyone called him that, but you were the exception.

"always."

wonwoo -

wonwoo was astonished at himself, for lack of a better word. he had never been more disappointed in himself than in this moment. sure, he didn't take birthdays too seriously, and he knew you didn't either, but you always made him feel so special on his day he had only wanted to do the same. he was a lowkey guy, so his ways of showing love sometimes went unnoticed by most people, except for you. you accepted the subtlety of his love, loving him all the more for it. he felt terrible that today he showed you the exact opposite of what he had planned. he had taken weeks to perfect the dinner he had wanted to make for you, having prepared a romantic night for the two of you. all he wanted was to make you feel loved as he held you through the night, but his plan had stupidly slipped his mind.

what kind of asshole ditches their significant other on their birthday? for a stupid video game out of all things? as soon as wonwoo communicated what you had texted him to mingyu, his roommate couldn't help but scold him, telling him this was very uncharacteristic of him. which it was. everyone knew wonwoo to be a very sensible guy. it was very rare for anyone to have their feelings hurt by wonwoo. the guy was just simply too emotionally intelligent to ever be perceived as a hurtful individual. except now he had shown a careless part of himself that rarely ever faced the surface.

he was unsure of what to do. it was clear by your messages that you did not want to see him. you quite literally had asked him to not come. your texts to him were always filled with love, somehow being able to have your affections to him transcend even through text. but these were cold, and with good reason. still, wonwoo did not want to give up. the only thing that would be worse than ditching you on your birthday would be to stay where he was, knowing you were not only upset but also hurt by his actions. or rather, lack there of.

so, wonwoo was now on his way to you. well, to your apartment. you had mentioned in your messages that you would be out with friends due to his absence. it killed him that you had chosen to be with your friends over him, but he was fully aware that he only had himself to blame for that. he was glad you at least had someone to be with while his forgetfulness kept him away from you.

he had a key to your apartment, often heading over to fall asleep in your arms after a grueling day of being an idol. upon arriving there, he knew you'd be gone, so he allowed himself in, hauling in all the ingredients he had packed with him in order to make you the dinner he had been planning all these weeks. he was unsure of when you'd arrive back home, so he needed to hurry just in case. there was also a chance you'd come back in the early hours of the morning, knowing you would sometimes stay out with your friends til 1 or 2 in the am. having practiced this dinner multiple times, wonwoo was able to have it all done by 10, hoping that you'd arrive soon so the dinner wouldn't go to waste. he took care of the ambience, lighting candles and even moving furniture aside to make space for his set up. all he had to do now was wait for your arrival.

it had taken you around two hours to arrive. wonwoo had simply sat there waiting for you, not wanting to contact you as to not disturb you. okay, maybe he had maniacally texted you back earlier, apologizing for his mistake over and over, but had received no response, so he had decided it'd be best to just wait for you to arrive on your own. and now you were here, crossing the door to your apartment.

you stopped upon spotting him, widening your eyes before taking note of the dinner table behind him, "wonwoo? what are you doing here?"

he smiled sadly at you, slightly unsure of what to say, "i cooked for you," he paused, continuing upon seeing your confusion, "im so sorry. time got the best of me. i cant believe it slipped my mind. i knew it was today, but i got too distracted. i never wanted to make you feel like i didnt care. i do. so much."

you stood there without saying anything, still carrying a slightly shocked expression on your face. so he continued.

"baby ... please, have a meal with me. i prepared all this for you. this is what i had planned for today, if only i hadnt forgotten. let me make it up to you, please. i already called off tomorrow. i had a whole day planned for us, but i'll do whatever you want. if you want me to leave, i will. just, please. i need you to know how much i care. i love you, you're everything."

you continued to stare at him for a bit, a soft smile slowly breaking into your features before responding.

"nonu .. you didn't have to do all this. i'm sorry if i made you worry. this is ... it's such a sweet gesture. of course i want you to stay. all i wanted all day was to be with you," it melted his heart that you had wanted him all day, but were separated by none other than himself.

he pulled you into his arms halfway through your response, humming as he felt you hug him back. nothing felt as nice as your touch against his.

"im so sorry, beautiful. this will never happen again, i promise."

"i love you, wonwoo. thank you."

"happy birthday."

mingyu -

mingyu had never hauled ass quicker than at that moment, not even bothering to say goodbye to his roommate before grabbing a jacket and sprinting out of the door.

he couldn't believe his behavior towards you. you had always been a top priority to him, and to now realize he had forgotten your birthday gutted him tremendously. but what got to him even more was the knowledge that you had probably been waiting all day for him, having agreed beforehand that he would make space for you on your special day even through his packed comeback schedule. the sole thought that you, the bestest person he had ever met, had sat alone waiting for him all day, made him feel like the worst boyfriend. so now he was quite literally running in order to get to you.

the dryness of your voice during that call should've been the first hint that something was wrong, but what really made the alarms go off in his head was your lack of response when he said 'i love you' to you. mingyu knew it was dumb to care so much about it, but he thrived off words of affirmation, so your lack of response made him immediately assume something was wrong. you had never not reciprocated his words of affection, much less hung up on him. the moment he expressed his concerns to wonwoo, he was reminded by his roommate that 'oh wait, isn't it their birthday this week?' suddenly his mind started spiraling, now remembering that he had forgotten his boyfriend duties on the most important day.

it didn't take him too long to get to your apartment. okay, he didn't actually run there, he was just being a tad bit dramatic. but dramatics were necessary in this situation, which is why the moment you begrudgingly opened the door after his incessant knocks, allowing him inside, he immediately dropped to his knees, looking up at you as he rambled apologies at you.

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry. god, i don't know how i forgot. i swear the day just slipped my mind. i had plans ready, i swear! i've just been so busy with the comeback- not that that's an excuse! you have every reason to be mad at me. it won't happen again, i promise, i-" mingyu wasn't sure when exactly he was going to stop listing off constant apologies to you. he wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying at this point, just repeating himself over and over again, letting it slip past him that you were now standing above him, holding in your amusement at the state of the pleading man before you.

"mingyu, please get up."

like an obedient boy, he got up, now towering over you as he usually did. he immediately held onto your hands, bringing them up to his chest as he continued his apologies.

"you have every right to be mad at me. i neglected you and forgot about you when i shouldn't have. i didn't even wanna come home to wonwoo tonight! i wanted to come to you! but we have a schedule early tomorrow morning, so it was just easier. but i'll cancel! i'll stay here with you! i wanna make it up to you-"

"mingyu, shut up!"

that was enough for him to slam his mouth shut immediately, looking at you as he waited for your next command words.

"mingyu, listen. i understand. i was hurt you forgot, but i understand you're really busy right now, okay? i'm not angry at you. you don't have to cancel your schedule either. i don't want to get in the way of-"

"i'll do it! you're my top priority, baby. you know that."

"i still don't want you to cancel, gyu. it's fine. i'm not angry. i appreciate your apology. just wanted to be with you today .. i'm sorry if i made you worry," you looked down, almost as if embarrassed by having felt hurt by his actions. this made mingyu melt with guilt.

"no, baby. fuck. how can i make this up to you? can i stay here tonight? hmm? i'll cook you dinner and wake you up with breakfast. i'll even cut my schedule short for tomorrow so i can be back home with you earlier. how's that sound?"

"sounds perfect mingyu, thank you," he took this as confirmation to finally hold you in his arms, swaying you back and forth as he hummed the birthday song lightly against your ear, causing you to giggle against him.

vernon -

everyone was aware that vernon could sometimes be a little too chill for his own good. he didn't make too big of a deal about most things, simply going with the flow and allowing things to evolve on their own. except that could not be done in this situation. right now, he needed to make a choice. give you your space, or run home to you, tail between his legs as he apologized for ever having forgotten about you. the last thing vernon would ever want was for you to not feel the immense amount of love he's always had for you. he knew he could be bad at showing it sometimes, but you were the absolute love of his life, which made him feel devastated over and over again as he kept rereading your texts.

'maybe you should stay at the dorms tonight. not really in the mood for you to spend the night. im sorry. love you.' that was what you had last sent to him exactly thirty-eight minutes ago. how could he just sit with that for the rest of the night? specially when all he wanted to do was be with you and hold you and kiss you and show you how incredibly obsessed with you he was. he was never good with dates, but he had always gotten any and all dates pertaining to you right thus far. he even had a gift for you he had purchased a few months back, but he had stupidly forgotten the day he had been preparing for was this week. this mistake was an outlier, truly, but it hurt you nonetheless, which was all vernon cared about at the moment. he couldn't believe you'd been having to hint at your birthday while your boyfriend remained clueless. you must've felt so dejected. he winced at the thought.

however, right now was not a time for lamentations. even if you kicked him out and told him to get fucked, vernon had to at least try to come home to you now. he quickly went over the situation with his members, explaining that he had been a total douchebag and neglected you. that earned him scoldings from all members present, calling him all types of names and demanding he head over to your apartment right this instant to beg for forgiveness and hope you wouldn't just send him right back.

so now he was on his way to you, despite you having instructed him to stay away. he wanted to respect your wishes, but he couldn't go to sleep tonight knowing your heart was still hurt because of him. he needed to at least see you and have you know that he was willing to try and mend things. vernon wasn't one for public displays, nor was he one for dramatics, but he was willing to pull all stops for you if it meant you'd forgive him. which was why he was currently running through the hybe hallways as he called up his driver to be ready to take him to your apartment as soon as he reached the parking lot.

he had had time to think over a game plan on the way over, except nothing came to mind. the two of you had never fought before. sure, there had been a few minuscule spats here and there, but he had never seen you angry at him before; he'd never given any reason to be until now. he didn't want to freak out over this, but knew how hurtful it must've been for you to feel so neglected by the person who's supposed to love you most, so he felt a pit in his stomach with the worry that maybe this would be enough for you to finally snap at his forgetful tendencies and end it. he didn't have much time to think about this, however, as he now stood in front of your apartment door, fearful of knocking on it.

the decision to open the door was made for him, as you incidentally opened it yourself, yelping at his apparition on the other side of it.

"vernon? what are you doing here?", you didn't seem angry. you seemed more confused at his presence. that was good.

"i- uh ... i'm sorry."

okay, kind of a bad start.

"vernon. i told you not to come over tonight. i'm sorry, i'm not really in the mood to see you right now," even though you didn't appear angry, your eyes wouldn't meet his, making him deflate a bit.

"are you mad at me? i'm so sorry. i didnt mean to forget, i swear," vernon knew there wasn't much he could say past that, but he wanted you to at least know he regretted his neglect.

"i'm not angry, vernon. i'm just a little ... sad. i tried to be subtle about it. i mean, i dont even care for my birthday that much, but i hoped my boyfriend would at least remember it."

"baby, god. i am so fucking sorry. i never meant to make you feel like i didn't care. it just slipped my mind. i know it's not a valid excuse, but i need you to know that it doesnt mean anything. i'm just a fucking idiot. i'm sorry."

he was rambling now. somehow you being hurt by him trumped the chance of you being mad.

"vernon, it's fine. i dont want you beating yourself up about it. i'll get over it. i just need space tonight. i was about to go meet with a friend before you got here," you seemed like you just wanted to get out of the situation, clearly feeling awkward at even expressing your disappointment at him. it made vernon feel like even more of an asshole.

"no! be mad! you shouldn't get over it. i should be making it up to you. stay. please. i'll do anything you want. i'll take tomorrow off. we can do something together. anything you want. i have a gift for you and everything! i got it while in japan, the date just slipped my mind, i swear. please stay. i don't want to leave you alone if i made you sad. please."

"vernon ..."

"please. i don't want to force you. if you want to leave, i'll accept it, but let me make it up to you. i dont want you to feel like i dont care. i do. i know i dont express it much, that's on me. i'll make it known. i'll show you. i don't want to hurt you again, i-"

he was unable to finish his sentence, now stumbling back due to a sudden weight against him. you, with your arms now wrapped around him as your face nuzzled his neck. he instinctively wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you in as he lowered his head to breathe you in, humming as he felt the relief of having you in his hold.

you pulled away too quickly for his liking, eyes slightly glossy but not enough to consider it worrisome, "i forgive you. i'm sorry, i didn't mean to exaggerate. i did feel neglected, but-"

"but nothing. don't apologize, please. this won't happen again, okay? i love you."

"i love you too," you smiled at him before pausing, "i .. do you wanna come in?", you seemed a bit sheepish, probably feeling awkward at hearing vernon ramble apologies at you for the past five minutes, showing way more emotion than he usually did.

"come in? oh, you're not leaving? wait, don't answer that. yes," he held onto your hand before you could say anything, pulling you in for a quick kiss before leading you into your apartment, all under the promise to make up for his previous carelessness and never make you doubt his affections for you ever again.

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