#like truly i think the last time i had a birthday party was in the third grade

[at-wicks-end]

backburner ; jw

john wick x reader unrequited love, angst

“How… sweet.” You fail to keep the bitterness from your voice, and John can’t help but stiffen at the sound. He opens his mouth to say what? What could he possibly say to make this better? The man you love is going to marry someone else. You’re not sure there is a bandage big enough to encompass the wound on your heart.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. And you hate it. You hate that he’s so sincere because he must truly love this woman to leave everything behind for her. To leave you behind for her. “I don’t want to risk bringing into this world. You and I know it’s not safe.”

“So you’re leaving all this then.” 

He nods solemnly.

Maybe it’s some masochistic part of you that pushes you to ask: “What’s she like?”

For some heartbeats, John says nothing. Just stares down at the near empty glass of whiskey in his hand, the dim light from the atmospheric lighting of the bar making him seem almost soft. In this light, his eyes look almost completely black, and your heart clenches at how beautiful he looks on the last night you’ll ever see him.

“She’s kind,” he says quietly. “Good. Helen’s a photographer, so she has a good eye for what looks good.”

Kind. Good. The words feel bitter. You were kind once. You were good. This world has taken that from you too.

“A photographer,” you repeat, looking down at your own glass. What is it like to be a photographer? Lots of lugging around heavy equipment, you suppose. Lots of weddings, birthday parties… It must be nice, to be surrounded by moments of joy and not death. Could you be a photographer?

Nothing more is said for some time. John has never been a talkative person, but you’d once deluded yourself into thinking that he was a little warmer, a little softer with you. You fancied the idea of silences dripping with contentment and silent companionship. Now, you feel your heart squeeze as you wait for him to tell you more.

He doesn’t. That’s okay. You’ve always been the one to bridge the distance between the two of you anyway. “When’s the, uh, task?” You manage to force out, looking at the wooden tabletop intently. You memorize the grooves, the marks, the stains. 

“Tomorrow night.”

Something lodges itself in your throat. “I see.”

He murmurs your name before pausing, seemingly trying to find the words. “I hope you find happiness, too. You deserve it.”

“And what if that happiness is you?”

He looks at you sadly. “I’m sorry.”

John had told you once that he wanted to leave. Whispered it into your ear as you lay on top of the covers, his skin against yours. With his chest pressed to your back, you could feel his heart beat. You slept that night dreaming of what a life with him could be like outside of the shadows. You dreamt of the sun on your skin and his eyes molten brown in the sunlight and your heart full. You would have left it all for him, if he asked.

You wonder if Helen had to ask him that.

(You don’t think she did. She is not selfish as you are, always sinking your claws into the very things you were desperate to keep. No, John would offer up the world to her without her asking. You realize now that that is the way John loves—all-consuming and with complete devotion. Not scraps, not confined to nightly trysts, not hidden.)

(He has never loved you.)

John calls out to you softly, your name sounding almost sweet on his tongue. You want to remember this: the sound of his baritone voice, barely audible through the background noise. The light shining on just the side of his face. His eyes on yours, always searching, always warm. 

“Goodbye,” he says. There's a finality to it.

You want to cry. You want to beg. Instead, you force a smile on your lips. John has always wanted freedom more than he has ever wanted you. “Goodbye, John.”

[permanentreverie]

.

[triplefrontierbabe]

hello! can i request a dr3 x black cat! reader? we all know dr is like a golden retriever and the dynamic with a tough, badass r, i feel would be so good! it gets to the point where the grid is like “mate your gf is kinda scary” and are legitimately scared of her (except for max, and danny tries to tell them shes not). but one night maybe dr (+more) get tooo drunk and the grid sees how caring and loving r really is (takes care of them) and understands that shes just a tough exterior with a soft loving interior please?

if not, its all good!! thank you 🤍

Opposites Attract

summary: Daniel’s the only person who knows how to crack your hard exterior

pairing: black cat! f!reader x golden retriever! Daniel Ricciardo

warnings: mention of drinking, you are responsible for the content you consume

a/n: I love this prompt!! I truly think Danny has the personality fit for a black cat! gf. hope you enjoy!

Daniel loves to smile, a lot. It’s kinda his thing. If Daniel Ricciardo isn’t smiling then something is seriously wrong. You can’t forget about his contagious laugh that livens up any space he’s in. Overall, he’s just a ray of sun bursting with joy.

So you can imagine the confusion on everyone’s faces when he introduced you as his girlfriend. You, the stoic, keeps-to-herself, only-shows-minimal-expressions girl dating Daniel, the golden retriever of the grid.

To any outsider the relationship dynamic didn’t really make sense. But, to be fair, compared to many other wives and girlfriends of the grid, you keep your life fairly private. You accompany Daniel to his races, you watch the race then you’re ready to go home as soon as the last car crosses the finish line. And, unlike many of the other drivers’ better halves, modeling and being in front of the camera is not your thing.

“I can’t tell if she hates me or likes me? She seems a little intimidating.” Lando says to Daniel one day. Daniel has introduced you to many of his mates and you’ve gotten to know many of them on a personal level outside of the paddock. Your stoicism once again triumphing in confusing the drivers.

“No, she does like you, Lando.” Daniel says. “I know she’s hard to read sometimes but she enjoys the company.”

This was a conversation Daniel found himself having often with other drivers. While you did fraternize with the other ladies, your social battery was quick to wear out on long weekends. Often excusing yourself from conversations because you were tired and could only handle so much interaction in one go.

However, after one race weekend, Daniel somehow convinced you to go out with a group of the drivers and their partners. It was a good race for Daniel, he placed P8, so of course a celebration of points was in order.

“It’ll be fun, I promise!” He tried reasoning with you. He had tried many times before in convincing you to go to a bar or club to celebrate. Only once before was he successful, and that was because it was to celebrate his birthday.

“And, we don’t even have to stay that long” he began “just have a couple drinks, mingle a little bit then leave.”

Now that was a plan you could get behind.

“Okay, I guess.” You said, sighing in defeat. It was one night, that wouldn’t kill you. And who knows, maybe people would see you’re not all that emotionless after all.

The night was going along just fine. Drinks were served, conversations were had, music was played. Max somehow ended up dancing on top of a table which resulted in Daniel joining him.

You and the other girls giggled at the sight of the grown men acting like college frat boys at a rush party. Yes, you giggled too. Lando saw it. He tried to take a mental note, amidst his drunken state, of the expression of emotion you had. Who knows if anyone would ever see that again.

“Mate did you just see Daniel’s girl smile?” Lando asked Charles who was standing close by. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a mental note he made after all.

Before you knew it, the clock had gone way past midnight and many more drinks were had. You, however, tapped out after two drinks. Someone in the relationship needed to be the coherent one for the night and it sure wasn’t going to be Daniel.

“Babe, I love this song!” Daniel shouted over top of DJ Got Us Fallin’ In Love as he stumbled towards you and the rest of the group. Once he was standing next to you he started dancing, terribly, attempting to twerk or at least move his butt in a what he thought to be a provocative manner.

As he bumped around you, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene you had now been brought into. Your almost six foot tall boyfriend acting like a newly turned twenty one year old at a bar for the first time. It was truly comical in the way he moved. For being as tall as he was, dancing for him was quite the sight, his lanky arms moving every which way with no rhythm at all.

“Baby dance with me” he whined reaching out to hold your waist and slightly slurring his words in the meantime. He was quite gone. The thing about alcohol and Danny was that it just heightened his golden retriever energy. He’s already very energetic and affectionate while sober, but inebriated? That’s a whole new level.

As much as you were reluctant to leave, you knew if Danny didn’t get to bed soon, the inevitable hangover in the morning would only be ten times worse.

“Okay honey, I think it’s time we head out.” You announce putting an arm around his waist to keep him upright. As soon as your arm is around his tall frame, he leans into your touch just like a puppy who hasn’t seen their human all day.

“But the party’s just getting started.” Daniel said pouting. Once again, a laugh escaped you before you could even process what was happening.

“I know, I know” you began as you put Daniel’s arm around your shoulder. “We can have more of a party later, okay?” You said patting his chest, trying to maneuver him in a way that would make it easy to walk out.

Before heading out, you announce your and Daniel’s departure and thank everyone for such a great night.

The group watches in amazement as you methodically guide Daniel around the crowd and head for the door. And they don’t miss the kiss you press to Daniel’s cheek along the way.

The guys are stunned to say the least.

“I think that’s the most personality I’ve seen from her ever.” Max exclaims, eyes wide at what he just witnessed.

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard her speak before.” Charles adds.

“It’s no wonder he chose her,” George begins, “she keeps him calm.”

So yeah, is your and Daniel’s relationship dynamic totally different on the outside? Sure. But he’s the only one who has managed to open up your heart just enough for him.

Opposites do attract after all.

Check out my Masterlist

[pinkroseblooms]

obsessedloner!Choso/chubby!f!Reader pt.2

Summary: in the second part to this modern college au, obsessive loner!Choso goes too far; reader deals with the consequences of his need to keep you close to him and him alone when he feels like you're at risk of gaining the attentions of an even more popular classmate. Yet another self indulgent piece of work, but sue me, I couldn't stop writing this all day. Enjoy!

Warnings: toxic behavior, obsessive/possessive behavior, jealousy, emotional manipulation, smut, mating press, rough sex, hurt/comfort, talks of low self esteem, clingy, needy!Choso, begging, crying, break downs, and borderline yandere!Choso, and other less than healthy relationship dynamics.

wc: 5.3k

The birthday cake was placed on the teacher’s desk: the majority of your speech class had decided that since Satoru Gojo’s birthday was coinciding with the last week of exams before break, it would be fun to have a small party. You volunteered to bake the cake; the professor gave permission to use his classroom that afternoon, with the condition the space was tidied up afterward and things didn’t get too rowdy. It was going to be a nice opportunity to celebrate the coming holiday season and the student who was arguably the school’s golden boy. Even those who didn’t like Gojo’s flippant arrogance and teasing nature admired his work ethic and almost supernatural intelligence, to say nothing of his undeniably pretty face. 

Choso was only there because he knew you were attending and in charge of bringing the requested birthday cake. He didn’t feel one way or the other about Gojo, but he would gladly be by your side, eager to hear the compliments your baking would receive and also to make sure no picky eaters decided to get nit picky and spoil your mood. Truly, Choso had been happy on your behalf to hear you had agreed to help with the party. He certainly wouldn’t think to go out of his way to do something like this for people he didn’t really know outside of a forty five minute, twice a week class. Choso was more than proud to be the boyfriend of a person so thoughtful and generous to a fault; it was one of the reasons he fell so hard in the first place. You never needed a special reason to be kind to someone. And of course, it helped that you were still the most adorable thing he had ever seen in his life and the last few months had been nothing short of heaven.

Except, the cake was red velvet. Choso stands by the teacher’s desk, staring at the cake. It was his favorite flavor. He told you that not long ago and you had promised the first time you made it, it would be for him. 

The cake is beautifully, painstakingly decorated, a perfect ratio of cake and fluffy frosting, sprinkled in bits of dark chocolate; the matching icing spells out ‘Happy Birthday, Satoru!’ in delicate, looping letters across the top. You obviously put a lot of care into making this for Gojo. That afternoon you had been the first person to arrive, followed shortly by another student, Suguru Geto; he wasn’t in the same speech class, but he was Gojo’s best friend and knew some of the class already, so inviting him was a given. The two of you had left to find a lighter and candles, hoping the school store in the basement of the building would provide something suitable. You told Choso he didn’t need to come; you noticed he had seemed a bit drained from studying and his recently acquired part time job, so you insisted he just hang back and relax while you and Geto went to obtain the finishing touches for the cake. 

For the past two minutes Choso has stood in place where you left him, eyeing the cake so innocently sitting atop the cleared off desk. He didn’t know it would be red velvet. Gojo had a sweet tooth and would probably love it. 

Surely this is too much for just an acquaintance. The recipe is a lot more difficult than the stuff you’ve made before, Choso saw there were more steps and more factors that could go wrong and ruin the cake’s moist and spongy texture. Skeptically, Choso narrows his eyes at the round, two tiered dessert. Most of the girls in your shared class offered to bake, but you were the one with the most experience and Gojo had eagerly picked you for the task. You must have felt obligated to make the cake perfect.

Choso’s frown deepens; he is your boyfriend. You promised you would make a cake like this just for him. A gesture like this could easily be taken the wrong way too and you’re so sweet and self effacing, he’s sure the idea of Gojo choosing you to personally make his cake didn’t mean anything at all.

It should be for him.

“What…what happened?”

The smile fell from your lips mere seconds after returning from the school store; Geto, insisting on carrying the purchases, had just been relaying a funny anecdote of one of his and Gojo’s misadventures as the two of you walked back into the now empty classroom. On the ground, right next to the base of the professor's sturdy wooden desk is nothing short of a mess. 

“My cake,” your hands come up to cover your gaping mouth. “What happened?!”

Geto approaches the desk with a confused frown; the cake and the plate it had been placed on are both on the floor. It seemed to have fallen top first, the icing and frosting smeared over the tiles and the plate broken into pieces around it. 

“It fell.” Geto states simply, although not without some incredulity. “Was it close to the edge?”

“No, I, well,” you struggle to recall exactly where you had placed the cake before you left the room. “I didn’t think I put it that close to the edge.”

“There’s frosting streaks on the side too’ it must have just toppled over.” Geto points out with a keen eye, kneeling a bit, bags still in hand. “It might have just been a bit uneven, a little heavier to one side?” he stands to his full height and smiles at you sympathetically. “These things happen, just a little bad luck. I’m sorry, it was a beautiful cake.”

“But everyone’s going to be here soon,” you fret as you search through your bag. “Geto, I’m going to go buy another cake, there’s a store nearby, I’m sure they’ll have something. Oh and I’ll find a custodian, oh no, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe this is happening-”

“Let me go.” Geto places a hand over your tensed shoulder. “It makes more sense, I know what kind of cake Satoru prefers the most. There’s plenty of time and a few others promised to bring drinks and snacks.”

“But I said I’d bring the cake. At least let me give you the money for it?” you hold up a few bills with a pleading stare. “I feel horrible, I should have been more careful where I put it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up; you are the one who did the work to make it.” Geto chuckles but accepts the money if only to make you feel a bit more at ease. “Maybe it’s better this way: with how good that cake looked, I’d wager you might have ended up with that glutton badgering you for more sweets.”

You return his smile as well as you can. “Thank you. I’m just being silly.”

“You’re fine.” Geto says firmly, but not unkindly. “You call a janitor, don’t try to clean up this alone; we wouldn’t want you to get a cut from trying to pick up pieces of that plate. I’ll be back before you know it; Satoru would sulk all afternoon if I don’t get him something anyway.”

“You’re a good friend.” you smile at Geto gratefully. “Thank you, I’ll call someone right away.”

You do just that shortly after Geto takes his leave; most of the custodians have already left for the day, except for one woman. She promises to be there as soon as she’s done with a request from one of the professors in the neighboring building; she sounds pleasant enough, but you feel pangs of guilt as you hang up and take a seat closest to the teacher’s desk. 

“Bunny? Are you okay?”

“Choso, you’re back!” you look up and wave at him, trying to sound cheerful; he glances at the ruined cake and back to your pained smile. “Ah, were you looking for me? I guess we just missed each other, the basement elevator was out of order, so we took the stairs. What a mess, huh? Geto thinks one side was a little heavier and it made the cake just flop right over the edge. Some bad luck, right? He left to get a cake and the custodian will be here soon, so make sure not to step on the plate bits.”

“Hey, slow down. I’m not worried about that.” Choso’s brow furrows as he studies your shaky smile. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal, accident…accidents happen.”

You bite your bottom lip harshly as your eyes begin to sting; before you know it, tears are slowly slipping down your cheeks. You quickly avert your eyes, too embarrassed to see the pitying look cross Choso’s face.

“Oh Choso, I feel so stupid. I can’t believe I put the cake that close to the edge! Ugh, I should have paid more attention, I told everyone I would make this amazing cake and I messed it all up and now Geto has to go all the way to the stupid store to get another one because I wasn’t careful!”

“Did he get mad at you?” Choso asked sharply. “Did he blame you?”

“No, no, Geto didn’t do anything.”  you bow your head and wipe at your wet cheeks. “He was really nice about it, so was the janitor on the phone about the mess, but I still feel bad. Gojo was just telling me he was really looking forward to the cake too. I’m sure he’ll be disappointed to get a store bought cake and I promised I’d take care of this for the party. Sorry, I know I’m being a crybaby, I should just suck it up, I’m the one who ruined things, I shouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself.”

“No, you didn’t. It’s not your fault.”

You raise your head and Choso is standing in front of the table between him and you; his hands are gripping tightly around the strap of his duffel bag. You wipe the last of your tears and look at him, your chest swelling at how upset he is on your account.

“You’re so sweet. Just having you to vent to makes me feel better already; I’m really just being dramatic, I’ve been stressed out and-”

“It’s not your fault.” Choso cuts you off quietly; he still isn’t looking at you. “It’s mine.”

“What? Baby, no, I didn’t expect you to watch the cake; it’s on me for not making sure it wasn’t so close to the edge, you didn’t do anything.”

“I pushed it.”

Choso’s knuckles are white: he’s strangling the strap of his bag between quivering hands. Finally, he looks into your bewildered eyes

“Choso, is this some kind of joke?” 

“I didn’t want him to have it and, and I thought he might get ideas since you worked so hard to bake it. He flirts with all the girls and you did say you were going to make it for me first.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” you shake your head and all but leap up from your chair. “You? How could you? And you were going to let me think it was my fault?!”

“No! It was supposed to look like an accident, I didn’t think you’d be so upset,”

“So it was okay for me to be ‘kind of’ upset? Choso, how could you?” you ask him again, voice raising, almost echoing in the empty room. “It’s just a cake!”

“Yeah, it’s just a stupid cake, that’s why I didn’t think you’d get this upset!”

Choso’s mouth clamps shut as your anger gives way to a look of utter hurt. 

“Wow.”

“I shouldn’t have said that-”

“Thanks a lot, Choso. Yeah, that really makes it better. Was that your plan? Swoop in and play the comforting boyfriend while I feel like a big idiot? Or maybe you just don’t consider my hobbies anything special; anyone can make a cake, right?” Fresh tears well up in your eyes as you tug your bag over your shoulder. “Nice to know what you really think.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Choso says reproachfully. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded, you’re putting words in my mouth!”

“You know what?” you shake your head and unzip the front section of your bag; clumsily you yank out a sealed box and slam it down on the table. Choso recognizes it as one of the little boxes you use to pack individual desserts. “Here, your stupid cake. Surprise.”

The lid of the container is now sticking to the top of the cake but Choso can still make out the messy letters of his name and the heart shaped sprinkles scattered all over the surface. His eyebrows raise as he sees the small, squashed up cake is in the shape of a heart. You glare down at it before turning on your heel without so much as a backward glance.

“Bunny?” Choso snaps out of his trance and begins to follow you. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you.”

“I can explain, just calm down and let me-”

“Leave. Me. Alone!” you stop abruptly in the doorway and give him a nasty look, but you’re barely able to hold yourself back as Choso fixes you with a heartbroken stare. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down when you’re the one who threw a fucking tantrum. Enjoy the ‘stupid cake’, jerk!”

You slam the door in his face and rush down the hall to the nearest entrance, not particularly caring about where you’re going, just as long as you can get as much distance between you and Choso as possible. When you finally get home, you text Geto an apology for taking off and a nondescript explanation for your absence before turning your phone off. You’re exhausted and skip dinner to just curl up in your bed, burrowing in a blanket as if you could shut out the world. Choso’s t-shirt, the same one you’ve been sleeping in nearly every night, is balled up and thrown somewhere across the room; eventually you fall asleep, eyes rubbed raw and nose stuffed as you drift off, hoping maybe this was all just a bad dream.

When morning arrives and you manage to force yourself into a sitting position, it takes you a minute or two to realize the gentle knocking isn’t a leftover remnant from your deep slumber, but a very real sound coming from your front door. You wrap yourself in a robe and slip on a pair of house slippers, equally confused and irritated as to who could be knocking on your door when the sun is barely over the horizon. Just as the knocking stops, you peek through the peephole; there’s no one there. You rub your eyes and unlock your door with a sigh, expecting a leaflet from some early bird salesman or religious group to be stuck in the hinges. Instead you nearly trip over a huddled up mass taking refuge on your doorstep when you didn’t immediately open your door.

“Choso?! Oh my god, you scared me!” you’re still breathing a bit heavily, heart racing thinking a stranger had collapsed on your porch. “What are you doing here?”

“I,” Choso scrambles to his feet; you finally notice in his hands are two cups of coffee, one of which is your usual order, but the largest size. He holds it out to you. “Good morning. You weren’t answering your phone.”

“I turned it off.”

After a beat, you take the cup on autopilot, more preoccupied with the man standing at the threshold of your home. The circles under Choso’s eyes are darker than ever, in addition to how red and irritated they are around the edges, his hair is oily and limp. On closer inspection, you see he’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday; now they’re more wrinkled and the slight odor coming off them tells you he hasn’t showered yet. 

“Can I come in?” Choso asks, his voice weak and barely louder than a whisper. “I have to talk to you.”

“Fine.” you frown but move aside and open the door wider. “Here, come with me, I left my phone in my room.”

Choso does as he’s told, but trails after you at a slight distance, at least in comparison to how closely he usually stays to you. He’s shivering; it’s the middle of winter and he isn’t wearing even a jacket. How long had he been knocking on your door? How long had he planned to wait there outside? You banish the thought and busy yourself disconnecting your phone from its charger on your bedside table. Choso stands awkwardly in the middle of your room; he hasn’t taken so much as a sip of his coffee or taken his eyes off you, at least as far as you can see. 

“Did I wake you up?” he asks worriedly. “I’m sorry. I was going to wait but I thought you might have gone somewhere and you weren’t answering your phone, so…” he goes silent seeing his shirt in a crumpled heap in the corner of your room. “I just wanted to talk to you as soon as possible.”

You barely heard him, jaw dropping at your phone’s screen as it fully turns on to show you 32 missed calls, 15 unheard voicemails, 18 unopened texts, and 5 emails, all from Choso over the course of the night. You tap your thumb on the latest voicemail.

“Bunny? Bunny, can’t you just talk to me?” A shaky, nearly unrecognizable croaking comes from the speaker: Choso’s strong voice sounds strained, almost inaudible at certain points, as though he had been screaming until his throat was raw. “I know you’re probably sleeping…or maybe you don’t want to talk to me ever again-” A sharp, wrecked sob crackles over the speaker but Choso manages to steady himself again. “But I need to…I need to hear your voice. I’m so sorry, I’m so, so fucking sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t hate me. I love you so much it hurts. I’m going to stop by tomorrow, I need to see you. I know I messed up, I need help. My bunny? I can’t…oh god, I can’t do this. I-I feel like I’m dying, I’m…I love you. I love you, I love you, just please-”

Your heart drops to your churning stomach as Choso’s words morph into broken, unintelligible sobs. Finally after a few seconds, the other end goes quiet and the voicemail ends. A recorded voice tells you there’s still 14 more previously skipped voicemails; Choso has remained standing, stiff as a board and looking miserably at you. You take a seat on the side of your bed, staring bewildered at your phone; you decide to not listen to the other voicemails.

“I’m sorry.” Choso says in an absurdly small voice. “Can we talk?”

You’re holding the coffee in your hands on your lap and taking a deep breath before raising your face. “Choso, why did you do it?”

“I didn’t do it to hurt you. I don’t think your baking is stupid. I was being stupid.” Choso’s cheeks burn in shame. “I was jealous Gojo was getting the cake first, or I thought he was, and I just…I didn’t want him to have it. It’s always like this.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him slowly, tempering your own indignation. “Do you think he would flirt with me? Or that I would cheat on you?”

“No. I just get so...everyone likes you. So, what if someone better comes along? What if you stop paying attention to me?” Choso shakes his head quickly, gripping his hair like he wants to yank it out. “I have thoughts like that all the time. It's awful. I knew you would be sad, but I really thought it would only be a little and then I could make it better and you would…rely on me more. I don’t want you to get close to anyone else.” he lowers his arm to his side limply. “I know it’s wrong. Are you gonna bre-break up with me?”

You don’t speak just yet; your eyes study his drawn, exhausted face. Choso isn’t trying to make you feel bad for him, you know that much. The truth doesn’t make you feel much better though. 

“I was really mad at you yesterday. I needed space.”

“I know, but-”

“Listen,” you say firmly. “Whatever the reason, that was a really rotten thing you did. It was just plain mean and selfish. Sure, you didn’t really mean to hurt me, but you did. You purposely messed up something I put a lot of work into.”

“I know.” Choso’s expression is desolate. “I like that about you. I love that you do nice things for people even if you don’t have to. Y-you’re so careful and considerate of other people. I was being selfish and it was so, so fucking stupid. You would never do something like that to me…you’re so good to me.”

“Choso, this isn’t just about yesterday.” you soften your tone, mindful of your volume. Choso looks as if one cold word from you could shatter him into a million pieces. “If you were willing to trash something I put a lot of work into for such a petty reason, it’s making me second guess things and now I’m wondering if maybe you’re not the person I thought you were. Is it more important to keep me dependent on you than for me to be happy?” You set your cup down on the nightstand, trying to keep your voice from cracking. “Maybe this isn’t going to work out.”

“Don’t say that.” 

Choso all but drops his coffee onto your dresser, barely glancing at it as he rushes to you; he lowers himself down on his knees, eyes glistening with both unshed tears and sheer adoration as he looks up at your pained face. You let him hold your hands, still folded in your lap, as Choso rests his forehead on your lap. They’re ice cold; how long had he been waiting outside?

“It’ll never happen again. It shouldn’t have happened at all. I know I could have just talked to you, I know you would have listened, but I didn’t even give you a chance, I just did what I wanted. I’m not nearly as kind as you.” Choso admits, words muffled as he buries his face into your thighs. “I don’t deserve you, but I need you. I’ll do whatever you say until you trust me again. Do you hate me?”

“Choso, I never hated you, I was just hurt.” you squeeze his hands gently. “The only reason I got so upset in the first place is because I love you so much. Hell, the cake for the party was more practice than anything so I could make you an even better cake. If you were worried, you should have just told me. You’re not some evil person from feeling jealous, but what you did was wrong. I really need to know that you understand where I’m coming from, I don’t want us to break up or anything. Did you really think I was trying to end things yesterday?”

Choso nods, head still resting on your thighs. “I thought you blocked me on everything. I thou-thought you didn’t ever want to see me again. I should have waited, Eso even said you probably just needed some space, but…I’m so used to being with you, texting you. I was going crazy.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to ghost you. And I’m sorry for calling you a jerk.”

“I am a jerk.”

“No, you acted like a jerk,” you nudge Choso’s shoulder to get him to look up; he does, taking in your face with those pleading puppy dog eyes you can never resist. “I forgive you. I love you baby, so, so much.”

“Bunny,” Choso’s lip wobbles and fat tears roll down his cheeks and chin, dripping onto your hands. “Thank you. I’m sorry I made you cry, just thinking about it makes me want to-to-” he sniffs and clenches his teeth against a whine. “I’m just sorry. I love you. I missed you so much. I couldn’t sleep knowing you were hurting because of me and I wanted to come here right away, but I thought if I did you’d really be fed up and-”

“You didn’t sleep?!” you slowly sit and move so you’re seated further up the bed; Choso follows suit, basically crawling over your pillows and covers to be next to you, tears still streaming down either side of his face. “Choso, lay down baby, you should take a nap. You’ll feel better, believe me. We can talk more later and get something to eat.”

“‘So good to me.” Choso tugs on your arm. “I want to cuddle.” He immediately moves over so you can hold him, laying on your sides as Choso stares balefully up at you through blurry eyes. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Choso, you need sleep.”

“Please?” he mutters, eyes lingering on your pouty mouth. “Need a kiss.”

“Okay, just a little one.”

“Thank you. You’re always so good to me…”

You knew those basset hound eyes would be the death of you: what started out as a tender, chaste kiss swiftly evolved into big hands massaging your breasts, then fingers tugging at the sash of your robe, and finally you being pushed onto your back as Choso holds you down in a mating press. 

“So good!” Choso can’t stop letting out choked moans, so loud, they almost drown out your cries, pushing your thighs closer to your chest, somehow, some way forcing his cock impossibly deep. There’s hints of pain but the pleasure you get from his cock head rubbing against that little spot just behind your clit was overriding all of it. 

“Baby, gotta slow down, you’ll break me at this rate.” you moan, helpless as Choso ducks his head down to lick and suck on your almost painfully sensitive nipples. He had been playing with them obsessively, pinching, rolling, sucking, even leaving dark love bites all over your breast.

“Love you, missed your pussy so much, thought I was gonna, gonna die!”

“Oh god, Choso, please, please baby, it’s too much!” your head lolls side to side; he’s made you cum three times already. Your pussy is a sopping wet mess and it’s all you can do to not pass out as Choso’s thick cock stretches you open over and over again, surely bruising your cervix. “You’re so-ah!” you let out a piercing shriek that only seems to spur him on to go harder. “So deep in my pussy baby, I can’t-”

“Just a little more, I’m so close,” Choso huffs, looking down at you with heavy lidded eyes, cheeks burning and hair sticking to his forehead; he’s a mess from his own sweat and your slick covering his pelvis where he just won’t stop pounding into you. “You look so good like this, I could fuck you forever…gonna cum so hard, give it all to you,”

“Cum in me,” you sweep his damp hair off his forehead with a faint, fucked out smile. “I want to feel it dripping out of me…can you be a good boy and cum in my pussy?”

“Yes, yes! Oh fuck, yes!”

Choso kisses you roughly, hips rolling into yours, barely pulling his cock out at all, as though he wanted his cum to go as deep inside you as it could go. It’s hot and spurting into your battered insides; thankfully Choso has enough strength left to hold you up as he humps your plush, limp body like a dog in heat. 

“Mine,” he groans, thrusting once more with a violent shudder. “Only mine.”

You suppose it’s not the best idea to encourage him, but you nod anyway, shaky hand in his hair to pet the tangled strands, chest heaving and light headed as Choso pulls his softening cock out slowly so as not to hurt you. He pants against your neck, curled into your side and using his wide palm to rub gentle circles over your hips and thighs.

“My poor bunny.” Choso mutters fondly as his fingers trail over your twitching thighs. “I’ll do better. You won’t regret this. I’m gonna get a bath ready for you, okay?”

“Th-thank you.”

“Sh, just relax, don’t get up.” Choso moves sluggishly to take the box of tissues from your nightstand; the coffee he brought you has somehow not been knocked off in the frenzy. “You’re so cute like this. I’ll wipe you off a bit first, nice and easy. Does it hurt down there?”

“Not really; feels more numb actually.” you roll your head to stare at him directly, meaning to look at least a little serious but you come off more like a grumpy kitten. “Don’t think just because you made me almost pass out that I forgot everything from the past 24 hours mister. I’m holding you to your word.”

“Yes ma’am.” Choso agrees with a hum as he wipes at the mess between your legs. “Thank you again…I still ate the cake you made for me. It was really good.”

“Oh right.”

“Yuji said you should have thrown it in my face.” Choso adds, a bit sheepish at the memory. “I almost didn’t eat it: I thought it would be the last thing you ever gave me…”

“Choso,” you smile at him sadly. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you?”

“Uh huh.” Choso brings you into his arms, careful not to jostle you too suddenly. “Just scared. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Never?”

“No.”

“Why are you scared? Do you still think I want to break up?”

Choso shrugs. “What if the more you get to know me, the more you see bad things?”

“What kind of bad things?”

“If…if I could, I’d keep you with me. Sometimes when we’re alone, I don’t want to let you go. Then I start wondering if trying to keep you safe will just make you unhappy with me or that I’ll scare you off and then…” A single tear escapes Choso’s eye and he draws you in closer to his chest. “I don’t know what I’d do. Compared to you, I’m really selfish and short sighted.”

“No one’s perfect. I’m not.”

“You're just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I overthink things and get worked up over upsetting people. I hold myself to unattainable standards.” you list off tiredly. “And I keep doing this thing where I shy away from letting people really…know me. Like if they do, I’ll just let them down. I feel like an imposter half the time when you say all these nice things about me. You’re the first person I’ve actually wanted to know me, warts and all. It’s worth getting to be with someone like you, Choso. That’s just how relationships work; you’re always risking getting hurt or disappointed when you let people love you…when you love someone. And I love you.”

“Um…is it bad that I feel happy I’m the only person you talk to like this?” Choso sniffles. “Sorry. I’m being selfish again.”

“Maybe a little, but for the right reasons.” you grin and wipe a thumb under his eye. “For the record, it makes me happy you think of me so highly. You make me feel special.”

“You are special and anyone who thinks otherwise is stupid.”

“Does that include me then?”

Choso looks visibly panicked. “Wa-wait, that’s not what I meant!”

“I know, I know, sorry baby.” you kiss him before he starts into another round of apologies. “That was just a little payback. Ah, Choso!”

“Not funny.” Choso grumbles, bundling you into the blankets as you giggle and let out a faux fearful squeal; the sly quirk of his lips betrays his actual intentions. “After your bath, I’m gonna give you a real reason to scream.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Secret III

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You're a bit messy

When Mapi takes you out to the park, she doesn't expect it to rain.

But it does.

It rains and rains and rains until she's shivering in the cold and wet as you very determinedly stamp around in the mud by the bank of the lake.

"Be careful!" Mapi calls after you and you stick your tongue out at her.

It was a stupid idea to be caught without an umbrella and without a coat but this was Barcelona and she really wasn't expecting it.

"Come on!" She winces as you sink lower into the mud, ruining the new Sambas she had specifically bought for you.

"But Mami-"

"No, Skatt," Mapi says, covering her horror with a little laugh," Let's go home now."

You huff in annoyance, dipping down once more into the mud before running to her side, hands firmly in your pockets as you drag your muddy feet all the way back to Mapi's nice, clean car.

"Oh!" Ingrid exclaims when you come running into the house about twenty minutes later," You look all messy, Skatt! Did you have fun!"

You push a strand of wet hair out of your face as you grin. "Uh-huh."

You hurry off into the bathroom, leaving a trail of muddy footprints after you.

"She's ruined them," Mapi laments.

"Well," Ingrid replies, pursing her lips," Seeing as the last four pairs of the same shoes ended up the same way, you can't be surprised Mapi."

"Yes I can! I thought it would be different!"

Ingrid shakes her head fondly, pushing out from the kitchen table. "I told you," She says," Skatt doesn't need fancy shoes. You need to start putting her in her wellies even when you don't think it'll rain. Save the fancy shoes for dinners and birthday parties."

Mapi pouts, scuffing her own Sambas on the hard wood flooring. "I just wanted us to match."

"I know."

And Ingrid does know. You look like her, overwhelmingly so. It makes sense obviously but you're truly like her mini and sometimes Mapi's been called things like your auntie or babysitter by strangers and Ingrid knows Mapi hates it.

"But you can match for fancy events," Ingrid continues," It's not worth it ruining another set of shoes because Skatt decided to go digging again."

The bath starts running and Mapi smiles wryly.

"At least she knows it's bath time when she gets muddy."

"Yes," Ingrid says fondly," We've trained her well." She leans towards the bathroom. "Skatt! Are you getting undressed?"

"Yes, Mama!"

"Do you want to wash her up or should I?"

"You can," Mapi says," I'll grab her a change of clothes. You might need to do her hair. It wasn't tied up properly."

"Got it."

When Ingrid enters the bathroom, she's thrown. There's a remarkably lifelike frog toy kicking around in the water. She's never seen it before but she knows Mapi stopped off at the shops before the park and your interest in frogs is almost as high as your interest in bugs so Ingrid supposes you had convinced Mapi to buy it for you.

She lathers up your hair with shampoo after cleaning your body and you hum happily.

"Did you see a lot of bugs on your trip today?"

"Uh-hu! Saw dragonfly and gnats and flies and bumblebees-"

The power on the toy is really going strong, Ingrid notes, because it keeps swimming in circles and she has to wonder what store Mapi bought it at because it's unlike any other bath toy Ingrid's ever seen before.

"-And wasps and Mami had to run away after seeing it because she was scared it was going to string her."

"That's nice, Skatt." Ingrid rinses out your hair, pulls out the plug of the bath and moves to the living room to start towel drying your hair.

Mapi goes to grab your dirty clothes and throw them in the laundry.

That's when it croaks at her.

That's also when she screams.

A frog stares back at her, perched on the taps.

It stares.

Mapi screams again.

"Mapi?!" Ingrid bursts into the room," What is it? Are you hurt?!"

"What is that?!" Mapi points a shaking finger at the creature and you, still wrapped up in your towel, poke your head around the door.

"My frog!"

"What?!" Mapi and Ingrid both demand, whirling around to look at you.

"My frog!" You repeat," Found him in the park. He was sad so I brought him home!"

Ingrid massages her temples and Mapi shrieks again when she sees the frog hop into the now empty bathtub.

"We can't keep the frog."

You grown. "Why not? We kept my millipede."

Ingrid goes pale. "What millipede?"

"The millipede in my terrarium." You point your own finger at Mapi. "The one Mami bought for me."

"She what?!"

"Ingrid...I can explain!"

[i-like-writing-stuff]

never changing; part two [ five hargreeves x reader ]

a/n: y’all this ain’t much i’m still trying to reacommodate myself back into writing but i will share a final part 3 to this imagine eventually!!!

again this is just fluff and banter i love keeping things light hearted

and i’m trying to heal myself with what could’ve been 😔

summary: you and the hargreeves siblings start your rescue mission

“Well, you all certainly look shittier than the other,” You crossed your arms awkwardly, watching the seven Hargreeves siblings as they were all clutching onto their bodies, sprawled across what used to be the fancy mansion that they grew up in.

Now it was just looking as beat down as your family.

“You’re fucked up in the head,” Ben groaned, making you roll your eyes.

“Coming from the dipshit who roofied his siblings with space juice… that’s a big statement,” Diego mumbled, as the others nodded in agreement.

After Gracie’s birthday party, you intended to go back to the office and catch up on some paperwork. The current case you were working on was truly a pain in the ass. Ever since you started working on it a couple of months ago, you didn’t think that anything else was more important than trying to win it. Boy, were you wrong.

You intended to leave the party a bit earlier, so that’s exactly what you did. Even if you felt like you couldn’t get enough of bantering with the family, playing with Gracie and most specially, talking to Five, you eventually dragged yourself back to the car and drove back to work. You needed that gathering, you truly did- in spite of the inevitably awkward moments.

That’s why when Five called you to inform to that Viktor got kidnapped, you didn’t hesitate to drive back to the mansion and regroup with the siblings to rescue their brother. One thing led to another, you managed to save him and even celebrate after that, but it wouldn’t be a Hargreeves mission without something going sideways.

“We have to get going, asshats,” Five reminded you all, stroking his hair.

You wanted to comfort him, as your heart sunk watching the dark circles around his eyes. His skin was as pale as a ghost, and he was groaning lightly through heavy breaths. His long fingers were running through his messy hair, as his other hand was holding the marigold jar loosely.

You always thought how stupid it was that you could just look at him for hours, just because he was so pretty. He could be doing nothing, you still couldn’t get enough of him.

This is so embarrassing, it’s been six years, you thought to yourself, looking away exactly as he caught a glimpse of your stare, Besides, he looks like he is dying. Handsomely, but dying, nonetheless.

The same man who kidnapped Viktor last night entrusted you with a rescue mission to bring his daughter back home. You decided not to pursue it, eventually, and before you went your separate ways, you all had a shot of Sake, ushered by Ben.

The rest is history.

Point is, everyone seemed to have their powers back.

“Shotgun,” You raised a hand, as the seven siblings started cussing at you on your way to Diego and Lila’s van.

You felt very nostalgic, since so many years passed without being with everyone. It was bittersweet, but you tried to promise to yourself to not get too attached. You liked your current life, and as lovely as it was spending time with Five, that led to nowhere. It was just a stupid little crush, anyway.

The family van was parked in front of the building, right in front of your car, so Diego started moving some thing into your car trunk to make room for everyone. Allison and Klaus were talking to Claire on the phone, as Ben, Luther and Lila were bickering about the sconces and Viktor was still trying to calm his nerves.

“You okay?” You placed your hand on Five’s shoulder, feigning a confident smile.

You were honestly so concerned for them, all of them.

“Just the most annoying hangover in my life,” Five placed his hand on yours absentmindedly.

Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal, he appreciated your concern, he always did. When he got hurt in missions you were always scolding him and he acted annoyed with your protectiveness, but this was the first time he actually showed gratitude for it.

“But you don’t gotta get all up in my ass,” He added with a smirk, taking your hand off his shoulder.

There it was.

He still held onto it, proudly, as you rolled your eyes, not even noticing how naturally your hands locked together.

“Oh please, you’d love me to get all up on you,” You scoffed, making him chuckle.

“Since when are you so arrogant?” He wondered.

“I may have picked up a thing or two from you over the years,” You shrugged your shoulders lightly.

“Should’ve picked up the phone more often,” Five said, causing you to wave a hand in front of your face bored of how many times you’ve been told that;

“The phone that…”

“Works both ways,” He interrupted you, “Yeah, yeah.”

“Then you don’t really have a leg to stand on,” You declared with a smile.

“Is that right?” He took a step closer, eyeing you curiously.

If you were to ask him where did that come from, he really had no idea what to say. Five always was unpredictable, but this was something new. But then again, it’s not like your relationship was that cold- it wasn’t. However, he was playing with fire a tad too much.

It all felt so ridiculous. How could he still make your heart thump heavily just with a simple look? You felt so little compared to him, as hard as you tried to seem confident. With the help of your platform boots you were still almost reaching his chin, and that was to show you just how young you both still were, even if your mental ages begged to differ.

“You still look like shit,” You broke the ice, still trying to keep up a tough exterior.

“Bullshit,” Five grinned, obviously feeling a lot better.

Little did you know how much your simple presence helped his mental well-being.

Surprisingly, he thought to himself.

“Are you two gonna suck faces or can we move along?” Ben suddenly walked up to you and his brother, as the rest of the family was watching everything unfold as if it was a soap opera.

“Why’d you wanna watch your brother kiss someone?” You wondered, letting go of Five’s hand to climb into the car along the others.

“That’s not okay,” Klaus agreed.

“You’re getting weirder by the second,” Allison told Ben, as he tried to argue.

“What the fuck?” Diego turned to watch his brother disgusted, as Viktor was just silently side-eyeing the tentacle man.

“I fucking hate you all,” Ben said defeated, looking around the car.

“At least they don’t wanna watch their fresh 19 year old brother eat tongue,” You couldn’t help the banter.

“Don’t say fresh 19,” Luther chimed in as well, as the siblings turned to you now.

“He is 64, nothing about him is fresh,” Klaus pointed out.

“Shut the fuck up, fuckface,” Five only rolled his eyes.

And thus the road-trip begun.

[karlatakicker]

RUIN SPOILERS!!

i’m very attached to roxanne, and after the dlc i am very attached to cassie too! so here’s my thoughts on the both of them and why their relationship is just so unbelievably special to me

1. it’s implied that they both don’t really have any friends, as sad as it is. Roxanne says to Cassie in their conversation that she thinks that her friends will come to her party this time, which obviously means Cassie’s friends are either nonexistent or aren’t very nice. it’s also implied that Roxanne is disliked by the other children in the pizzaplex because of her desire to win and lack of empathy thus unawareness that children are upset by the idea of losing. so, the idea of them both becoming friends and acknowledging each-other is truly special if they have nobody else.

2. Roxanne’s desire to win on her race track is overridden by her kindness and feelings towards Cassie. in their conversation Roxanne remembers Cassie because she beat her twice on the track, which leads to Roxanne almost sounding proud despite being beaten which she usually expresses anger for. (I’ve been told this doesn’t mean what I think, Number 1 twice refers to Cassie’s birthday, but you can argue that it still shows something between them by the fact Roxanne is willing to say Cassie is Number 1, despite Roxanne constantly wanting to be Number 1.)

3. Cassie’s clear empathy towards Roxanne as her favourite - she pities and feels for Roxanne when she’s crying in the salon. despite seeing the horrid conditions that all the other animatronics are in, Roxanne as Cassie’s favourite is the only one she truly feels for.

4. Roxanne’s infatuation with herself does not inflict with her remembering details about Cassie. Roxy asking about and sharing Cassie’s love of carrot cake (and remembering her birthday) shows an attachment that Roxanne seems to have with no-one else, as thinking of herself does not conflict with thinking of Cassie.

5. in the cutouts of Cassie and Roxanne standing side by side, they’re mirrored. Cassie has similar makeup on to Roxy, and is holding her mirror the exact same way. Cassie wants to be exactly like Roxanne, to the point of copying her actions and being dolled up like her. these images of the two of them are simply to establish a connection between them, so it hurts a lot more when it comes down to de-activating Roxanne.

6. Roxanne, despite being so angered at the idea of not being pretty and being so damaged, has no hesitation in jumping to save Cassie despite possibly getting more damaged or even being completely broken because of it.

7. the line “it has been some time since i saw you last” can be interpreted as Roxanne had thought of Cassie since the last time she had been to the pizzaplex. it makes their reunion all that more heartbreaking because when Roxanne meets her again, it’s for Cassie to deactivate her.

8. Roxanne asking if Cassie had booked her party yet, is essentially Roxy asking if Cassie was going to come back and see her - Cassie, the only kid that Roxy is shown to have a connection with.

9. Cassie stroking Roxanne’s fingers before deactivating her, as if to give her the last comfort she’ll ever feel.

anyway that ends my rant. they’re just so special to me despite them having like 3 interactions. they are the true little sister/big sister animatronic and human pairing we needed. if I don’t get an ending where they’re sitting on the hill eating carrot cake, the developers are going to get a very strongly worded email.

(just to clarify months on from this post, the developers have received a very strongly worded email.)

[unspeakable-imagination]

Not the worst || Logan Howlett x Reader

My asks are OPEN and my matserlist is HERE

Reposts and likes are always appreciated

Just a drabble because I can't get it out of my mind. I was thinking abt this all night.

Cw: Oldman logan slander/ logan 2017 slander, hyping up worst logan hype, fluffy, angst, lots of bonding, probably gonna make them fall in love now sure, cannon-typical violence, cursing

Living as Wade Wilson's favorite neighbor was something eles. You and him were best friends, commonly taking time to watch my little pony or other similarly childish cartoons when Althea was out.

You were there when we left the x-men. You were there for him when Vanessa left him, there for him when he was to lost to find a job. You were there when you helped him pick is toupee, and you were there at his birthday party when he was kidnapped.

To say that it shook you would be an understatement. You'd been through so much and it physically pained you when you realized that whatever he was gone for, you couldn't help him. And two days later, he was back. And he wasn't alone. He came with a man, a wolverine. Or as you heard in passing, the worst one.

Logan loitered around the apartment more than you'd like, given that you could no longer peacefully watch ponies either wade, otherwise a grumbling logan would throw fit and slam doors.

Eventually, you just had to pull wade to your own apartment across the hall. And then the knocks came. Every time Wade was over, without fail, Logan would interrupt your buddy time, knocking on the door to whisk wade away for their weird- platonically gay relationship.

It took some time for you to recognize that Logan was lonely, too. And soon, it became the three of you having movie nights. It was hard not to come to enjoy the presence of the clawed man, and it went from you sitting awkwardly to the side while wade would constantly fail at cuddling Logan, to you in the middle.

Until tonight. Wade wasn't going to make it to your bi-weekly movie nights anymore, to busy pining after Vanessa. She was willing to tey and mend their relationship. It broke your heart to loose your best friend, but logan was there rubbing your back, comforting you.

"Atleast we don't have to listen to him run his mouth and spoil the whole thing," he'd reason to you. "You know that he would just ruin the end for you, or tease you when you cry."

Logan was right, but you loved watching movies with them. "But it sucks, he's my friend. I mean I get it, he's gotta chase her, he loves her, but we matter, too, don't we, Lo?"

"Of course, bub. There will always be more movie nights, and even if he can't make them all, atleast you have me?" And you did. For the next three weeks, without fail, Wade would avoid you both on designated movie nights, and Logan would come to your place for them, comforting you and picking out movies.

On more than one occasion you had fallen asleep on his shoulder or lap, and plenty of times you'd even let him sleep over him not wanting to wake the angry, coked up, blind batshit Althea. You began to neglect Wade, watching him finally win over Vanessa's heart, and watching Logan slowly move into your own place, shifting out of the other crowded apartment.

As the time for tour nightly movie drew nesr, you sorted the sofand the popcorn bowl, the lights and the TV, and set up the coffee table with assortment of other snacks and drinks that would last you two through the night. Various beers and even a cigar.

Logan had just gotten home from his job and gone to shower while you set up. His shower was quick, like it usually was, and by the time he was done, you were snuggled on the sofa in a faux sherpa throw. He settled down next to you and you handed the remote to him. In the weeks that Logan had been living with you, you couldn't deny the way you began to develop feelings. He was attractive and capable, and while he seemed rough on the exterior, he was truly tender hearted and did care about your feelings.

That's what made it so hard to bring up that you knew the other, much older-looking, dead logan from your timeliness.

It was just a week after the Manchester incident when Logan and Xavier had fled to Mexico, finding you along the way. They pulled you into their group with Caliban and things took a shift in your day to day life. No longer accounting for the tracker mutant, you spent your time helping him give the professor shots and medication. You were one of the few people, one of the few humans, that had an opposite gene mutation. Instead of getting the X gene, you got something eles, something that made you invulnerable to mutant powers.

You were the perfect person to medicate the senile telepath. You were there to see far too many events unfold that traumatized you. That made you realize that Logan wasn't the person on the pedestal that everyone else thought him to be. He was a stupid drunk, hellbent on killing himself, and the only thing stopping him shifted from the professor to his daughter. And it was horrifying, the way that so many things in his life were kept so well behind closed doors. It's horrifying that the media portrayed him in such a well light, and it was dishonorable that every food company used him to poison food for all of mutant kind, and he didn't do anything to stop it.

After he died, you had found yourself at the X-mansion, being the person to relay the news to Colossus and the other surviving xmen. To show their gratitude, they let you stay there, and eventually, you met the asshole burn-victim lookalike.

Logan noticed your shift in mood, the aura around tou changing. "[Name]?" He leaned towards you and you shook your head, returning to the present. "I was asking what you were in the mood to watch?"

"I need to tell you something." It was sudden and Logan swore he felt his heart drop to his stomach. You brought you hand to your mouth, anxiously chewing on your nails as he looked at you.

"I'm sorry for keeping this from you for so long, but I knew the other logan. I knew the other you. And every time I've heard you walk about yourself being the worst logan- well, it's not true." Your eyes glossed are and you swore you'd cry. He shifted, rotating, bringing his knee up so he could face you better. Reaching to put a hand on your cheek.

"What do you mean, bub? You knew Logan?" You nodded, almost pitifully and your cheeks began to feel warm tears drip down them. He gently wiped them away. "What do you mean, though? Everybody tell me about how amazing this world wolverine was."

"They didn't see him behind closed doors, they didn't see him at the end like I did. Laura- she was just a kid. She only idolizes him because he died for her- but that doesn't make him good." You used your hand to dry some more of your tears.

"He was a peice of shit and only cared about himself until he knew he was dying. He was insistent on ending it and only found his release by getting skewered on a tree-root." Your emotions shifted from sadness to bubbling anger.

"There was an incident, when Xavier's brain began to go. I mean, a degenerative brain disease in thw worlds most powerful brain?" You paused. "He took him away, and he found Caliban and I along the way to help him. He left everybody behind, too, not just you. Maybe it's a Logan thing. It was funny, really. He was acctually planning on Leaving Caliban and I behind anyways. Saving up buy for a boat to live in the ocean where Xavier and him could just die peacefully." His face fell as he listened. "He was disgusting. Worse than you. You've proven you're a million times better. I mean- he is the reason why we have so little mutants left. Why children are pushed away into boarding schools or segregated just because they have powers."

Logan was silent as he took his time to absorb all the Information you just shoved apon him. "Wow," he breathed. "I really am a peice of shit everywhere."

"No logan, you don't understand. You, and I mean the you sitting in front of me isn't! You're amazing. You helped wade, you helped Laura leave the void. You helped me! God dammit, logan I love you. You've been nothing but amazing and so refreshing. You're somebody who acctually appreciates this life and living now. You're the best person out there."

His eyes nest buldged when you said you loved him, his heart rate picked up and by the time your final words left his lips, he swallowed them whole and kissed you. His hand on your cheek curved around the back of your neck and pulled you close, his other hand stabilizing his lean.

He pulled back just to place his forehead on yours. "Fuck, [Name], you have no idea how much a cherish your words. You've been encouraging me for so long and I've been so anxious I've taken you for granted, but I havnt. You don't understand how much you mean to me."

"I think I do, Logan. I feel the same way."

Don't get me wrong I think old man logan is attractive, but I had to look at it from a bad pov because Logan really was an ass in that. Movie was great and I'm still heavily attracted to all (even the bitchy versions) of him. Can't get over it.

[ultralightpoe]

Anti-hero - Roy Kent

Authors Note : Based off a request I got {Could you do a Jamie or Roy fic with a girl who feels self conscious as their date to a gala or something? Lots of fluff and comfort! If you don’t want to write it, no worries 💜} A quick reminder that you are all beautiful and truly wonderful. You all deserve the world, and I hope you all find your own Roy Kent. -Ultralightpoe

Word Count: 3,997

Warnings: self doubt. curse words

Requests: OPEN

Main Master list - - Midnights Event List

(Thank you for the gif @50shadesofpemberlypost )

x Enjoy x

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

Midnights become my afternoons

When my depression works the graveyard shift

All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room

- 

It had been an issue for years, one that was directly caused by your mother. 

It’s not that she was a villain, and it wasn’t like she knew she was doing it anyways, it was always something that just managed to slip out of her mouth in passing moments . A quick ‘that shows your back fat’ there and a ‘are you sure you like that color? It washes you out baby’. Always said with that tone that made you rethink every decision in life. 

She did it out of love. 

But the comments she made built up, that and the pressure of school and social media building up. It all took a toll on you. You found your life mixed with new issues. Anxiety, self-doubt, depression, and you became a new person. 

It was like a shadow version of you, one that tracked how much she ate and thought about how loud she laughed and how much was too much talking. Every single move you made was tracked and overthought.

But then Roy came into the picture. 

At first you did what you usually did, you tried to speak low and not draw too much attention. Tracking how much you laughed and how much you ate. It was fine because your friend group never really realized it, they didn’t know a thing was out of place. But Roy, who had been brought by his sister, was quick to call it out. 

“Fucking stop that.” He muttered when you tried to fix your skirt, using his hand to slap yours away. “You look fucking perfect. Take a breath, yeah?”

“I just…. I’m debating the color, everyone else wore pastels and I hadn’t realized that it would be that type of party.” You admit, body hot with embarrassment as a group of girls pass you at the party. But that was the least of your worries, you had eaten too much cake and had tripped on the stairs in front of your friends. Could everyone see your makeup on your neck? Were they laughing at you-

“Do you overthink everything?” Roy blurts, catching your elbow to pull you back gently as a waiter with a heavy tray passes by. “Because I’ll tell you right now that you’re the prettiest fucking woman at this party.”

“You can’t say that at someone’s birthday party.” You laugh, stepping closer to him without realizing. “That’s one of the biggest rules. It’s like saying someone is prettier than Aphrodite. Next thing you know that person will be cursed to marry your father because the goddess hates you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s…. Greek mythology. I’m not going to marry my dad. It… okay. I’ve ruined this so I am just going to-” You move away quicker than he can follow and you think that it was over. But you had not known just how determined Roy Kent was. 

Soon enough he was taking you out, one date became 4 which led to a relationship. 10 months in and you were the happiest you had ever been. He saw you, in every outfit and every mood and every way, and he loved you just as you were. 

But there was something you didn’t expect, the amount of attention that would come with dating a professional football player. It was a whole new demon in itself. 

- 

I should not be left to my own devices

They come with prices and vices

I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

'Cause you got tired of my scheming

(For the last time)

- 

Lunches with your mother were the worst, and yet you loved her more than anything. Today she chose an extremely fancy restaurant dressed in a Valentino outfit and her makeup to perfection as she cut her salad up with her fork and knife. 

“Oh this is dreadful.” She sighs, shaking her head. “There is barely any chicken in here. This is insane. Do you see chicken?”

“There is chicken.” Roy shrugs, narrowing his eyes a bit. Lunches with them were always such a weird dynamic considering they were exact opposites. Your mother looked for drama, she thrived off of arguing. Roy chose brutal honesty, he worked best on shutting arguments down before they could even start.  “It’s right there.”

“Oh, baby that is a terrible color on you.” She huffs, sitting the plate back down and turning her glare on you as her hand raises to call the server over. “It washes you out. What have I told you about-”

“She looks fucking stunning today.” Roy scoffs, blinking slowly. 

“It’s fine.” You whisper to him, trying to defuse the situation. 

“No, it’s not.”

“Now I read somewhere that there is a big fundraiser gala coming up, it was in the paper. I assume you both will be attending.” Your mother begins, smiling when the server starts heading over. “You should let me dress you darling. I know how you get anxious about that all and I want to make sure you look your best.”

“She’ll look bloody fantastic in anything-”

“Oh you finally decided to serve your table.” Your mother interrupts him, talking to the server and completely disregarding your boyfriend. 

He takes a moment to lean over to you, catching your eyes. “I’m about to stab my fork into my fucking eye.”

“I know.” You smile, leaning in closer to kiss his cheek which makes him growl a bit at the pda but you see the smile he fights off anyways. “We’ll be gone soon.”

“You look great and the dress you pick will be fantastic. Don’t listen to her.” He gruffs out. 

“Have you seen those posts of you two? They were commenting on your age difference and I just want you to know that I do not think you are too immature for him. Truthfully honey I am proud, I never thought you’d make it with someone so accomplished. I mean it’s not like you had many prospects.” She laughs as the server sends Roy a wide eyed look while taking her plate away leaving the table once more. 

“That’s it.” Roy snaps, slamming his silverware down on the table and pointing his finger at her. “You watch how you speak to her. She’s perfect. And she will be a bombshell at the gala.”

Your mothers face flushes, blinking at him slowly as Roy goes back to his meal like nothing happened while you fight off a smile, your foot rubbing his calf under the table in a silent thank you before you try to pull it back only for his legs to slam shut keeping your foot held there. 

He sends you a sharp look, but the corner of his mouth curves up and you know that was his way of showing his love so you take it, smiling right back at him. 

- 

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

At tea time, everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

- 

The dress you chose for the gala was perfect, you were excited to wear it and truthfully you were excited about the whole thing. This would be the first event you had ever attended with the Richmond team in the public eye, and you wanted to make a good impression. 

But your mothers words from the years rang through your head constantly as you waited for their practice to end, leaning against the wall in the hallway as you thought about everything. 

“Oh! Hello.” A angelic voice rings out, pulling your attention to Rebecca Welton coming down the hallway, making you stand up quickly. 

“Ms. Welton! Hi, hello, hey…. I’m saying hi in too many ways.” You blush, moving to shake her hand. “It’s great to see you again.”

“I was just about to say the same thing. Are you waiting for the boys?”

“I am, yeah. My car is in the shop so I need a ride.” 

“Oh lovely, will I be seeing you at the gala? I have been planning it for weeks, my ex husband used to plan it. The wanker.”

“I’ll be there. I just hope I dress well enough.” You laugh slightly, but her eyebrow raises and you panic slightly. Did everyone on this team just see right through all your shit? 

“You’ll look perfect. I wish I still had a figure like yours.”

“ANGEL!” Someone calls out before you are lifted into the arms of Danny Rojas, kissing the side of your face as he swings you around. 

“Alright. Set her down, will ya?” Roy snaps, coming around the corner and rubbing his knee as Danny sets you down quickly, kissing your cheek one more time before heading away. You lean forward and rub Roy’s knee right where you know he feels the most pain. 

“Is it hurting a lot?” You mumble, as he pulls your hand away. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No, I just don’t want to moan in the middle of this hallway. Let’s go home?” Before you can even answer he is grabbing your bag and moving to take you to the car. 

- 

Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby

And I'm a monster on the hill

Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city

Pierced through the heart, but never killed

- 

Roy was in a shit mood the day of the gala, slamming cupboard after cupboard. You knew he was irritated about having to dress up and see the reporters that used to write about him all the time, and you knew in moments like this it was best to let him work through it. But sometimes you just couldn’t stay away. 

Shuffling closer, in his shirt, you wrap your arms around his center and shove your face into his back. He huffs out as he keeps swiping  the sponge against the counter, but he doesn’t push you away so you take a chance and kiss between his shoulder blades. “It’s going to be okay. What they say about you doesn’t matter.”

He sighs out, letting go of the sponge before turning around in your arms and wrapping his own around you, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

“You were young and they were assholes for that…. So fuck them.”

“Fuck them.” He repeats. 

“You’re going to walk by them in your fine ass suit with your fine ass body-”

“Please don’t objectify me.” He mumbles, but a smile is already on his lips as he leans down to kiss you deeply before pulling back. “And I will have the brightest fucking gem with me tonight.”

“Oh, c’mon.” You blush, trying to pull back but his arms are tight around you. 

“I think we need to fuck.” He huffs kisses at your face again. 

“Don’t be so crass!” You laugh, trying to escape him and shuffling you both to the bedroom right as your phone rings. “It’s my mother.”

“No. Don’t answer.”

“I have to, or she’s gonna be mad.” You answer back, watching his face turn dead serious as he looks at you. His hands come up to rub at your jaw. 

“You listen to me you little rat.” He mumbles, you fighting back a laugh at the nickname. “Don’t listen to a word she says, because you are beautiful.”

“I won’t. I promise.” You promise, kissing his lips deeply and losing yourself to the kiss for a moment before he pulls back and shuffles to continue cleaning the counter. You swipe your thumb across the screen and mumble out a “Hello mother.”

“Oh you’re there! I thought you were about to ignore my call.” She snaps through the phone. 

- 

Did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism

Like some kind of congressman? (Tale as old as time)

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

And life will lose all its meaning

(For the last time)

- 

You broke your promise, and you let your mother get the best of you. 

Her words from earlier bounce around your mind as you get ready. You debate whether or not your hair looked healthy as you spray hairspray across it. Did it look greasy? Untamed? Could they see your split ends?

Was your nail polish the wrong color? Was there a patch of hair on your legs that you missed? Did the dress color wash you out? Did you look too heavy? Was it too late to cancel?

“You look…. “ Roy blinks, coming up behind you to help zip the dress. “Fuck.”

“Is that good?” You ask, biting at your lip as he leans to kiss the nape of your neck. 

“Good? You look bloody amazing.” He snaps, kissing your neck one more time before standing straight. “Now let’s go make money.”

“What are we fundraising for? I never looked into it?”

“I have no fucking clue.” 

“Right.” You laugh, turning with your hand in his as he kisses your knuckles softly. “Then let’s go make money for whatever needs money.” 

“Make a fortune.”

- 

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me (I'm the problem, it's me)

At tea time, everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

- 

Your lip was worn down from the amount you had been biting it. 

Walking up to the gala you saw a red carpet with dozens of flashing cameras and begin to panic as you get closer, your hand tightening in Roys as he stands straighter. You would not be able to handle the cameras and see your picture all over the internet. What would people say? They would trash you, oh how bad would it be?

But Roy, ever the perfect man, simply held your hand tight and walked across the red carpet with a confidence that made your skin hot. He muttered to each that called his name, his voice deep and uncaring. “No. No. Fuck you. Fuck off. Fuck no.”

A smile blooming across your face as you let him lead you into the building where everyone is walking about with drinks in their hand. 

“I’m going to go get us drinks. Your usual?” He asks, waiting for your nod before heading in the direction of the bar leaving you standing there to take a look around. 

You took your chance to look around at everyone around you, smiling at anyone you make eye contact with. The anxieties began rising, as every gorgeous female passed you in their perfect dresses. Was your dress cheap looking? Did you look pathetic?

You were caught up in your thoughts as Jamie approached with his date, a model that introduces herself with a hug that makes you sniff caramel, leaving you with a crater in your chest as you look at her perfection. Jamie talks about the gala, looking around at everyone as a flash makes you blink, all three of you turning to the person that just took your picture. 

“The actual fuck?” Jamie scoffs, staring at him. “We were having a conversation, ye?”

“Sorry.” The man nods, moving to walk off and bumping into Nate with another apology. “Didn’t see you.”

“Hi Nate.” You smile, trying to seem calm when he walks up. “You look great.”

“Thank you! Mr. Lasso actually bought me this suit.”

“Who?” You blink, trying to see who he had been talking about. It wasn’t meant to be a snappy or snide comment, you had yet to be introduced to the new coach and the name didn’t ring a bell at first. But the second you saw the man with the mustache owning the crowd not far off you knew who Nate was talking about. 

But when you turn back to Nate you see a glare set on his features, his cheeks a little red as he blatantly looks away from you. “You look great, Jamie. You as well Keeley.”

Then he walks off, bumping into you harshly as he passes which makes the blonde look at you with wide eyes as Jamie excuses himself for another drink. 

“Oh, that was extremely rude of me. I shouldn’t have asked about the coach- that was-”

“What are you talking about?” She blinks, looking extremely confused. “You didn’t do anything wrong?”

“Here you are.” Roy grunts, handing you the chilled glass. “Keeley.”

“Hello Roy.” She smiles before Jamie whistles to pull her over. 

“Did he just call her like she was a dog?” You ask Roy as she walks over, and he shrugs. 

“He’s a wanker. Always has been and always will be.” Roy grunts out, rolling his eyes. “He doesn’t ever pass the ball. And he is a massive tool. You should hear some of the things he says to-” He begins to explain as you try to smooth out your dress before his hand shoots out to stop you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Your answer was too quick, his eyes narrow and he catches it. 

“What happened?”

“I just…. I think I upset Nate because I asked to Lasso was and I didn’t mean to and everyone here looks amazing. But I’m fine. Everything is fine.” 

“Did that little fuck say something?”

“No. It’s fine Roy. Everything is fine.” You smile, leaning forward to kiss his lips which he allows before moving back and holding his hand knowing he doesn’t like pda.  “Let’s go find our seats?”

- 

I have this dream my daughter in-law kills me for the money

She thinks I left them in the will

The family gathers 'round and reads it and then someone screams out

"She's laughing up at us from hell"

- 

“Hello Roy, you handsome devil you.” A southern voice rings out, walking up to where you and Roy were seated together. “And what pairs so well with a handsome devil? An angel.”

“The devil is technically… well historically the devil is an angel.” You blush, immediately feeling stupid as the fun fact slips from your lips. “Well, I mean- I’m sorry that was stupid.”

“Stupid? Absolutely not. I feel ashamed that I didn’t know it.” He laughs, leaning to shake your hand. “My name is Ted, all my friends call me Ted which means you must.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you. Roy was telling me about all the new techniques at your practices.” You smile, making your boyfriend shake his head. 

“I said nothing good.” Roy huffs.  

“He said everything good.” You smile which makes Ted smile back. 

“You both look fantastic. Have a drink on me, since it’s an open bar.” Ted jokes, moving to walk away as Roy places his hand on your lower back. 

“Why the fuck would you tell him that I said good things?” He huffs and your stomach drops. 

“I’m sorry. It was just teasing and you do always say great things about him so-”

“Take it easy. You are fine.” He shakes his head. “Are you okay?”

You hadn’t noticed but your fists had clenched and your nails were digging into your skin, his own fingers were quick to make you release the hold and rub his thumb over the crescent marks left on your skin before bringing your hand up to kiss your palm. 

“I thought you hated pda.” You whisper, leaning so your foreheads were pressed together as he pretended to roll his eyes. 

“Fuck it. I have a gorgeous date and I deserve to kiss her in public.” 

“Are you sure? It’s a big move for you.”

“Have you seen yourself? Prettier than the goddess aphrodite.” He smiles and your eyes widen. 

“How. Dare. You! What have you done? I’m going to have to marry my dad now. Roy, how could you have done this to me?” You laugh, shaking your head. “I also cannot believe you remember that from almost a year ago.”

“Of course I remember.” He blinks. “That was the first conversation I had with the love of my life. Who would forget that?”

“Oh knock it off.” You mumble, shaking your head. 

“Knock it off? Knock what off?” He snaps. “Do you realize how fucking lucky I was that day? The day you looked at me? My life was made. The second best day of my life.”

“Second?”

“Second. My niece’s birth is the first.” 

“I’m fucking honored.” You laugh, smiling from ear to ear. 

“Did you just cuss?”

“I did. I’m sorry. My mother would kill me.” You blush. 

“Can I be honest with you for a second?”

“When are you not?”

“Fuck your mother.” He blurts, which makes your eyes widen. “I hate her. I think she is miserable and you are far fucking prettier than aphrodite and you don’t have to worry about the goddess making you marry your dad because I will be marrying you. No goddess or god could keep me from you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You’re stuck with me. And I need you to stop being to fucking mean to yourself. You hear me?” He asks seriously. “Because that’s the love of my life you are talking about.” 

“I can try.” 

“Good. Now lets get another round and wait this fucking gala out. Then lets go get actual food because I know you skipped lunch.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You smile before a flash blinds you once more, making you both whirl to the man with the camera. 

“You fucker-” Roy begins to stand as he dashes off. 

- 

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

It's me, hi, everybody agrees, everybody agrees

- 

You both end up at a late night potato stand, sitting on one of their benches as you both laugh at the memory of the auction that had taken place. 

“A fucking grandma bid on me. You know how embarrassing that was?”

“Hey! I bid on you too!” You laugh, body shaking from laughing so hard. “And Keeley!”

“Keeley was pissing that little wanker off.” He huffs, rubbing your thigh gently as you keep his blazer wrapped around you. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.”

“Thank you for bringing me. I am sorry I upset Nate-”

“Stop saying sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He mumbles, leaning to dig his spoon into your baked potato and take a big mouthful of it. “Fuck. That is good.”

“You say that about anything I get! You always do this!” You laugh, pretending to pull the potato away. 

“You always choose better!”

- 

It's me, hi (hi), I'm the problem, it's me (I'm the problem, it's me)

At tea (tea) time (time), everybody agrees (everybody agrees)

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

- 

“Fuck!” You wake up to the sound of Roy yelling from the kitchen, rushing to wrap yourself in the sheet left on the bed from last night as your feet pad across the floor to find where he is at. 

You find him sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee, glaring at his laptop, until he sees you coming out of the bedroom in just a sheet. 

“Fuck.” Unlike his last curse this one is said with a lusty tone, setting the coffee down as you come closer to the couch and move to sit by him. 

“What’s got you so mad, handsome?”

“They posted a picture of me and they said I’m retired. What fucks.”

“Is it a bad idea? To be retired?” You ask, moving to straddle him before he can pull an attitude. “You would have more time with me. More time to hang out and cuddle and sleep and…. You can finish the rest.” 

“.....Fuck.”

[wooahaes]

party hats & kitty cats

pairing: non-idol!lee know x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship au.

warnings: food. one-off line about having kids in the future. discussion of expanding the family via adopting a new cat.

word count: 1.3k~

daisy's notes: oh to adopt a cat w lino....

Minho shifted next to you, causing you to lift your head off of his shoulder. “Hold on,” he said, voice soft as could be so as to not disturb you (or, more likely, the cats asleep around you). “Keep your head held up.”

Which was what prompted you to open your eyes right as a string fell snugly against the underside of your chin. Minho pushed it back so it would sit more comfortably, continuing to manipulate the party hat on your head until it looked right. That was when you realized he was wearing one, too. 

“What?” 

You’d been drifting off a little too much despite the carnage going on the screen (the powers of a bad horror movie, for sure), halfway to dreamland when he moved. The first time, you hadn’t had to move too much—assuming that Minho had just been reaching for his drink. The second time, you thought he’d been putting it back. And now he was just watching you with this playful look in his eyes, proud at his own silly little joke. 

“Pretty,” he mused aloud. Then he leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss against your lips before getting up for real this time. The action earned a curious ‘mrrp?’ from Doongie, who had been sleeping at your feet until now, and Minho looked at him. “Doong-doong-ah, just stay there.”

Doongie promptly hopped down off of the couch to follow him instead, cat DNA requiring that he not follow orders from anyone but himself. You just relaxed against the couch, reaching a hand up to pet Soonie where he’d curled up to sleep. He raised his head lazily, purring once you began to scratch underneath his chin. Dori had popped his head up from where he’d been batting around a little mouse toy, watching Minho carefully as he moved about the kitchen with Doongie at his heels. You just found yourself smiling at the scene. Sometimes you joked that Minho fell in love with you once you met his cats and began to adore them almost as much as he does, but sometimes you truly think this relationship wouldn’t have lasted this long if you weren’t all-in on moving in with him and the three cats. You turned your attention back to Soonie for barely a second before you heard the click of a lighter.

And then a minute later, Minho began to sing to you. He made his way over, holding a small cake that was enough for the two of you. Doongie followed after him as he came back to you, all too curious and needing to know exactly what was going on in his home without him knowing ahead of time. Minho carefully lowered himself onto the couch next to you, holding up the cake for you.

“Did you make this?” You asked once he stopped singing.

He shook his head. “I was going to,” he said. “But I decided to focus on cooking dinner instead.” 

Good, you thought to yourself. The dinner Minho had cooked for you was a little elaborate. The idea of him making you a cake and dinner, especially when the cake was decorated a little extravagantly, would have been too much. He’d pouted at you when you went the extra mile on his birthday considering how much you’d been working lately, gently chastising you when you were left exhausted after everything.

“I don’t need anything that special,” he’d told you while the two of you were laying in bed, his arms wrapped around you. “Your health is more important to me.”

You turned a little to look at him over your shoulder. “You didn’t like it…?”

“I loved it,” he kissed the side of your shoulder. “I always love the things you do for me. But…” His fingers grazed against the skin, exposed from where your shirt has ridden up. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your wellbeing for me. Okay?”

You had made him promise to do the same, something he’d easily done and sealed with a soft kiss before snuggling in for the night. Now he sat before you, the candlelight illuminating his face more than the television screen did. 

“Make a wish already,” he’d lightly teased. “You can stare at me later.”

With a roll of your eyes, you turned your attention to the lit candles. For a moment, you debated on what to wish for before settling on something achievable, hopefully. You shut your eyes, blowing out the candles before the smell of smoke immediately greeted you. When you opened your eyes, Minho had reached for one of the forks he’d casually left on the coffee table earlier. You’d assumed at the time that he simply brought too many and would return it to its drawer later, but of course he was a step ahead of you. 

“So?” He pushed the fork into the cake, apparently intent on feeding you the first bite before he’d pass the fork to you. He held it up. “What did you wish for?”

“I thought telling you meant it wouldn’t come true?” You teased before closing your lips around the fork, sweet vanilla buttercream bursting over your taste buds as you enjoyed the first bite of your cake. This had to be the same bakery you ordered his birthday cake from last year. Their vanilla buttercream had a certain quality to it that you could never put your finger on (Felix would know, though: he’d complimented it at Minho’s party). 

“Is it something I can do?” He asked. When you played up your debate before nodding, he rolled his eyes, scooping up another bite of cake for you. “Then tell me.” 

“I was thinking…” You went to take the fork, only for Minho to pull it away from you. A hostage situation, apparently. Unfair. “We could maybe expand the family a little?”

He gave you the most confused look in response. “You said you didn’t want to have kids until later on—”

“Not kids,” you said. “Maybe… We could get another kitten?” 

Minho nodded along to the question, thinking it over. He pushed the fork back toward you, purposefully not letting go. You decided to oblige once more as you ate the bite of cake. “We’d have to see about fostering first,” he said, already figuring out the reality of adopting a new kitten when you already had three rambunctious cats around. “Find a space that the others can’t get to while we introduce them to each other…” 

Finally victorious in stealing the fork from him, you pushed it through the cake and held out a bite to him. The two of you had shared enough at this point anyway. “So we’ll look into it?”

He nodded. “I think we could. It’ll mean more work looking after them, but I think we could handle it.” He looked at Soonie, reaching up to scratch him between the ears. “Although if the cats don’t respond well, I don’t know if we could go through with it…” He hummed to himself for a moment, thinking harder about it. “Maybe a girl? It doesn’t matter either way, but maybe it’d be nice to have a girl cat around. We’d have to find one spayed or get her spayed when she’s older—”

“Minho.” 

He immediately turned back to look at you, realizing how lost he’d grown in kitten adoption thoughts. His gaze flickered back to the fork in front of him, and he smiled at you for a minute before leaning forward to accept the bite. “Thank you,” he said after swallowing. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” you giggled. “It’s cute that you care so much.” 

He lowered the cake he’d been balancing on one hand, carefully leaning over it so that he could kiss you. When he drew back, his eyes were all twinkly, so obviously giddy over the prospect of a new cat. Or maybe that was just the way Minho looked when he looked at you. His friends told you once that Minho adored you completely, and it was evident when they saw the way he looked at you.

“Happy birthday,” he said for the final time that night. “I love you so much.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @jinnie-ret @cheesemonky

[spiderhanzzz]

"I'M FUCKING SPIDERMAN, BABY" — han jisung.

who would've guessed that the guy you've been texting on tinder is spiderman?

word count: 2.7k

pairings: spiderman!han x journalist intern!reader

genres: humor, fluff, slight angst, comfort, kind of fake dating???

warnings: swearing, drinking, han is referred to as peter, reader and han are both uni students, mentions of vomit and violence, mild injuries, lowkey blackmailing if u squint, no use of y/n & gender neutral reader, han calls reader "pretty" once, usage of "baby" and "sweetie" too

playlist: les childish gambino, dare gorillaz, novacane frank ocean, i bet you look good on the dancefloor arctic monkeys, making the bed olivia rodrigo

a/n: my first fic raaahh!!! >:3 so so excited for u 2 read all these crazy ideas swirling inside my head

“...whoever provides the information on Spider-Man’s real identity will receive a cash prize of $1,000 US dollars…”

Your gaze bores to the glow of your old crappy TV. You haven’t had the time nor funds to purchase a new one, given that your only employment at the moment is a journalistic internship. It’s a good agency, the same one reporting on screen right now, and you acknowledge how hard you had worked to get the position. Nevertheless, you wish you prioritized financial gain over prestige, because now you’re stuck in your run-down apartment in New York, investigating the biggest issues for no money at all.

So you guess it’s not that big of a deal that you have no leads on who the hell Spider-Man is. If any higher-ups scold you, you could just hit them with those snarky remarks you’ve kept in the back of your mind all this time. How do you expect incentive from me if you’re not even paying me? I’m writing all your scripts because everyone else is a damn deadbeat! Maybe then they’ll start appreciating you.

You released a heavy sigh. All this nonsense is giving you a permanent headache, and it doesn’t help that you spend most of your free time scrolling mindlessly on your phone, which lights up with a new text notification the moment you start thinking about it. Perhaps you’ve spent so much time on your phone it’s becoming a part of your brain?

Peter Han: hahah tbh im pretty busy this week, but i’ll let u know for sure :)

A light shade of embarrassment tints your face when you catch yourself smiling at the text message. Usually Peter— the cute guy you’ve been texting on Tinder— never uses any emoticons. In fact, he’s been acting pretty uninterested and dry with you, which wouldn’t bother you as much if it weren’t for the fact that you desperately need a date to your friend’s birthday party next week.

Despite your humiliatingly destitute lifestyle, you pride yourself for your unmatched abilities to blend into any crowd. So like any other New Yorker, you decided to surround yourself with upper class Manhattan socialites. They like you; they don’t need to know about your financial status.

But with great power comes great responsibility, and with great social life comes great expectations. Last week it was a certain Kate Spade wallet with the intentions to match with the whole group of girls, and the week before it was table manners at a European restaurant (how in the hell were you supposed to know which fork to use for a crème brûlée?) This week, though, they gave you the most impossible task of all: get a date.

And you would. Truly, you would. It’s not like you’re particularly unattractive or unlikeable or anything like that. It’s just that you haven’t dipped your toes into the dating pool since university started, and you’re too far gone now. Your peers are fluent in these unspoken rules of dating and you don’t even really know what a situationship is.

Thus why you’re acting a little bit too desperate with Peter.

As you draft a response to him— is it better to use two or three y’s in hey?— your train of thoughts are interrupted by a loud thud on your balcony, followed by a shadow of vibrant colours. Your couch is situated safely so you can see right out the window, but angled in a way that someone outside wouldn’t be able to see you inside. You found this hack on social media on a particularly paranoid rush of nerves and thanked whoever that person was every single night.

Hesitating for a minute, you consider your options: a) attempt to fight off whoever is in your building, b) run out and alert security, or b) pretend like you didn’t hear anything and pray you don’t see your own face on TV tomorrow instead of Spider-Man’s.

If you were acting rational you would have chosen the last option. After all, it’s New York— if there’s anything prevalent here, it’s crime. But you are just so fucking bored. 

So you grab a baseball bat and swing open the window. 

“Get the hell off my balcony, dude!”

To your surprise, you stand face to face with a pair of dangling Converse All-Stars (really dirty ones, too). In your spur of confusion you come to the conclusion that whoever is sitting above your flat has the ugliest red socks you’ve ever seen in your life.

“What the fuck, man?” The person exclaims. “You bruised my knee!”

“That sounds about right for messing with my place, no?” You say, stepping out onto the balcony to get a good look at the stranger.

Just when you think you couldn’t get more disoriented, you realize the man you’re looking up to is not a stranger at all. It’s none other than Peter Han, in a full on Spider-Man suit.

“Peter…?”

The stranger, AKA Peter, breathes out a nervous laugh, raking his hand through his messy hair. Cute, you think.

“I think you mistook me for someone else. I’m not Peter.”

“Okay…” You say dubiously. “Why are you wearing a Spider-Man suit then?”

“I’m a… uh… cosplayer?”

When his eyes meet yours, the truth sings: he’s been caught. Peter Han is Spider-Man.

He’s terrified, you can tell. You don’t blame him— you would be too in his position. But it’s not just the fact that you know now; it’s also the mischievous glint twinkling in your eyes. Just what the hell are you thinking about that could be so amusing right now?

“W-what’s that look for?”

You can’t hold it in anymore. Maniacal laughter bursts out of you like you’ve been possessed by the spirit of a circus clown, and you have to hold on to the balcony railing to stop yourself from falling over. “Oh, Peter, you naive little fool.”

Peter’s brows furrow in confusion. You mentally curse yourself for admiring how handsome he looks when he doesn’t know what’s going on.

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m on the case to find out Spider-Man’s identity. Well, your identity, I guess.”

“You did not tell me that.”

“Yes, I did.” You cross your arms over your chest, shooting him a judgemental look. “You’d know that if you paid any attention to what I have to say.”

“Look, listen…” Peter braces his lean arms on the side of the window to lower himself on your balcony. Standing face to face, you note that he’s not as tall as you thought. “I know I haven’t been the warmest person to you, but I would literally get on my knees and beg for you to please not tell anyone about this.”

You hum in amusement, taking a step closer to him and raising your chin with undoubted sanguine. Like this, you’re almost the same height as him. “As tempting as that sounds, I’d rather have you doing something else for me.”

Peter chuckles in disbelief, eyes wandering to the sky as if to ask God what have I done to deserve this absolute nonsense? His palms rest upon your shoulders when he looks you dead in the eye and says, “You are not blackmailing me, sweetie.”

“That’s a lot of confidence for someone who has very blackmail-able secrets.”

“That’s not even a word!”

“Whatever.” You peel away his hands from your shoulders, straightening your posture and pulling your shoulders back. Peter faces you with a puzzled gaze as you offer him your hand, clearing your throat and stating, “Peter Han, I would like to make a deal with you.”

He doesn’t move. “And that is…?”

“Date me.” Seeing his face contort into an even deeper state of befuddlement, you follow up with elaboration. “One date to a party next week, and just a few meet-ups and texts to prove that our relationship is going strong. In return, I’ll pretend this whole exchange never happened.”

You’re both silent for what feels like hours, eyes fighting a silent mental battle, until Peter’s rough palms finally envelop your own. You’re aware of how crazy and delusional you sound, but you swear he pulls you in just a little bit closer.

“Deal.”

It’s your third year in the city, and you’re still not fully familiarized with the parties. Contrary to your expectations of drunk sweaty bodies dancing up on each other, your friends’ definition of parties consists of low warm lighting embracing their glittered luxury brand dresses as they swirl their fancy little martinis and cosmopolitans. You appreciate it, really, since you don’t have to use up your voice every other night just to shout over the deafening electronic music. However it’s much harder to appreciate the pressure it puts on you to behave a certain way— dance like nobody’s watching, but be aware that they are.

As you slowly walk to approach your friends (rule #32: no running in public spaces, you’ll look like an idiot) you feel a large hand brush softly against your waist. You turn to face your date for the night, warmth creeping up your cheeks as you take in his appearance. The only suit he’s wearing now is an all-black tuxedo with no tie, the first three buttons of his shirt opened. His black hair is brushed down smoothly, pieces of it falling just right to frame his glowing face.

“You clean up well,” you remark, circling your arm in his as you guide him towards the bar where your friends are sitting.

“I could say the same to you, pretty.” With the sleek black shoes he’s wearing, he’s a few inches taller. Slightly looking down on you, he gives you a subtle wink.

God, he’s such a heartthrob.

Your friends round up to give you hugs and kisses to welcome your presence, ever so politely. One of them acknowledges Peter’s companionship. “You must be the date.”

“That I am.” Peter returns the approach, showing off his adorably heart-shaped smile. “Peter Han, pleasure to meet you.”

The rest of the night runs as it does in your dreams the night before. By the time you had arrived, your friends were already buzzed enough to pay no mind to the way the leather is peeling off your only pair of formal shoes nor to the typo on your fake branded bag. Just the way it’s supposed to be.

Peter doesn’t leave your side the entire night, only lifting his arm around your waist to grab more drinks for the both of you. Occasionally you catch him absentmindedly rubbing your back, and occasionally you catch yourself wondering how someone who spends so much of his life fighting can be this gentle.

During a small bathroom break, one of your friends pulls you aside and whispers, “He looks at you like you hung the stars, you know.”

If you weren’t so swept up in the feeling of finally belonging under the subtle incandescence of a high-end bar in Manhattan, you would have noticed the way Peter’s eyes darken when he read a notification off his phone, or the way his lips press into a tight line when he gazes at you, laughing your heart away amongst your friends.

So you’re nothing short of confounded when he wraps his arms around your waist and leans down to mumble, “Baby, I have to go, there’s a work emergency. I’ll catch you later, alright?”

Your friends bid him farewell and you press a chaste kiss to his cheek, immediately turning away when you feel his body tense. When he walks out the door, you keep your eyes focused on how his soft hair loses its shimmer as he walks out into the night.

And you try to enjoy the warm liquid pouring down your throat for the fifth time tonight, savoring the way you can almost taste a bit of yourself pull away from reality each time, knowing at least one of the people around you will walk away tonight asking, “don’t you think that Peter is a bit cold?”

You sit on the edge of your balcony, something you never do unless you’re going through an existential crisis or drunk off your ass. Tonight it’s both. As usual, the distant sirens and exclamations of curses wrap a tight band around your head. You’re dizzy; either from the alcohol or situation or both.

The ocean of fluorescent lights from the streets of Queens drift your mind to recall just how you ended up here. Three years ago, you were a fresh high school graduate with a million opportunities in front of you. Now you’re broke and rely too much on the validation of your non-broke friends to fulfill the void inside you. The thought of eventually having nobody but yourself after you graduate makes you wanna vomit on a passerby’s head.

“Hey, baby.” A particularly resonant voice startles you out of your thoughts. Peter is swinging from your balcony railing, a pair of gray sweatpants and zip-up jacket slung over his Spider-Man suit. “Sorry for ditching early. I got pizza and flowers to make it up to you, though.”

He swings himself to sit down next to you, placing the box of pizza and bouquet in front of your crossed legs. When he pulls his mask over his head to remove it, your eyes glance over his cuts and bruises. They definitely weren’t there earlier.

“What happened?” You unconsciously bring a hand up to his face, brushing your knuckles tenderly over the sensitive areas. It’s only when he winces that you drop your hand back down to your lap.

“Some guy tried to rob a bank.” Peter shrugged, refusing to meet your gaze. “Turns out he brought a bunch of other guys to back him up.”

“Did you win, at least?”

Though his face is turned down, you can see Peter’s eyes crinkle into a smile underneath his tousled hair. “Yeah, ‘course I did. Who do you think I am, a loser? I’m fucking Spider-Man, baby.”

Ten minutes later you’re seated face to face, still on your balcony, with you dabbing a cotton pad onto his injuries. No words were exchanged; you just went in and out to grab your emergency medical kit and grabbed him by the chin. The pizza box is left unattended, but neither of you care much about the hunger puncturing your insides.

“Why do you look so down?” Peter inquires as you place a Hello Kitty bandaid on his cheekbone, giggling breathlessly as you do so.

“Do I?”

“Yeah.” He brings his own hand up to your face, brushing away the strands of your hair on your forehead. “I mean, you’re smiling now, but your eyes have this sadness to them. So, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

What the actual fuck? It literally takes you every nerve in your body to fight the urge to propose to this man right then and there.

“Hey, come on,” he urges, delicately pulling your face an inch closer to his. His thumbs run down your flushed cheeks, and it takes you a while to notice he’s brushing away your tears. “I said talk to me.”

“Well, you’ve probably already noticed that I’m different from my friends.” You wrap your fingers around his wrists. “I guess I thought I could pull off the whole socialite act, but I’m starting to feel so…”

When you can’t find the words, Peter finds them for you. “Lost?”

He presses his forehead to yours as you nod softly. “This might not be the best time, but I think you’re a star.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you shine the brightest amongst everyone else’s shadow. And your friends probably see you that way too. Also that I really, really want to take you out on a real date.”

“You were right, it’s terrible timing.” You fake pout, pretending as if your heart didn’t skip a beat at his words.

“Sorry, sorry!” Peter laughs, setting distance between the two of you once again. There is no inclination to pull him back, though; the space devoid of someone else finally feels comfortable.

“My answer is yes, by the way, you can take me out on a real date. Unfortunately no blackmail this time, though, I think I'm gonna quit that dumb internship.”

Both of you share a fit of affectionate laughter. The temperate scent of food merges with that of the flowers and caresses your senses as Peter opens the box of pizza. “If they ever make fun of you for not being rich, we can always stage one of them as Spider-Man. We'll even get $1,000 from it, then you'll actually be rich."

“I’ll take you up on that offer, Spidey.”

[restlessmaknae]

your heart is the target // jay

The last thing Jay expected when striking a fake dating deal with you was to get jealous (and ultimately, to fall head over heels for you).

➳ Characters: rich business student!Jay x professional archer!female reader/you

➳ Genre: fake dating au, high society au, olympics au, fluff, comedy

➳ Words: 5.5k

➳ Warning: mentions of food & drinks; vocab related to archery such as the usage of the words 'shooting' 'aim' and 'target'; my knowledge regarding archery comes from watching the Olympics, online research and this archery glossary, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong! Jay is big time jealous in the first scene and big time in denial in the third one, so excuse him, he's just hiding his big heart!

➳ A/N: This story was heavily inspired by the Olympics, ISAC, 'Brought the heat back' aka the perfect jealousy song and this short on Youtube.

It's also a spin-off to 'how to cross the line?' with Jake and 'red light, green light' with Sunghoon which both take place before this one, but this story can absolutely be read on its own. ❤️

Apparently, Jay didn’t think through what kind of consequences the fake dating would bring about, and how he would react to them. To be precise, to boys around you.

But it did save him time, money, and let’s be honest, mental energy to not spend so much of his time going on blind dates his mother used to send him off to. Even though he would have plenty of time to meet girls at university, most of them only talked to him because he was 1) a rugby player for the college team 2) he had a lot of money and 3) he was handsome. He wanted more than that, but he didn’t seem to have too much luck, and it didn’t help that both of his university friends - Jake and Sunghoon - already had girlfriends, so whenever they spent time together, he felt like he was fifth wheeling.

So really, it was a sensible deal between you and him, even more so because you were a professional archer, training for the Olympics, so you had even less time to focus on dating than he did. So realising that both of you were fed up with the unfruitful blind dates you had to attend when you two had been set up, you had struck a deal. You would pretend to date for the sake of your families and yourselves, but if either of you found someone they actually liked in the meantime, you would call it off. Otherwise, you could take advantage of the other as a plus one at events, further minimising the chances of shallow-minded boys or girls coming up to you two in hopes of seducing you.

However, sitting through the opening ceremony of a music hall that Jay’s parents built where most people knew who you were wasn’t the same as accompanying you to your birthday party where all kinds of boys showed up he hadn’t seen before. Even the sight of them around you angered him, but the way they mistook him for someone else was truly dancing on his nerves.

At first, there was this tall, broad-shouldered boy who seemed younger than him, but multiple heads turned his way when he walked by, probably because of his handsome looks. Though Jay would never think of growing his hair long, he had to admit that he had a majestic feel to him because of his shoulder-length chestnut brown locks.

“Oh, noona!” The boy hollered when he caught sight of you, and Jay immediately stiffened beside you, but didn’t move when the other boy halted in front of you. As if he didn’t even see Jay, he boasted a wide grin as he handed you a gift box. “Happy birthday!”

“Thank you so much, Leehan! I’m glad you could make it,” you reciprocated his wide smile, visibly comfortable even with the close proximity of the boy. Or maybe it seemed close only because Jay was also by your side.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Though we had a bit of an emergency because Jaehyun managed to spill coffee on my suit, but alas, I look dazzling in any suit,” he blabbered joyfully, and only after you asked a few more questions about his day and silence settled on you three, did the boy turn his head towards Jay.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me that you had a bodyguard,” he noted with curiously widening eyes, and Jay’s eyebrows immediately shot up.

“Pardon?”

“Who are you then if not her bodyguard? You look so serious,” he pointed out, shrugging his shoulders casually. Jay felt like he could combust from both the embarrassment and the fury he felt, but held himself back because he was better than that. Besides, he might have stood too stiff beside you, but every approaching boy was a target in his eyes.

“Oh yeah, Leehan, I didn’t tell you. He’s my boyfriend, Jay. Jay Park.”

Leehan let out a little giggle before mentioning that it was funny that he had the same name as the singer. It wasn’t the first time he heard it, but it didn’t seem to get old no matter how much he hated it. It was just a name after all. It was like joking to every Kitty about Hello Kitty.

“Leehan and I used to be neighbours when I was living in Busan,” you explained as you turned towards him, and despite the fact that he didn’t even know you used to live in Busan, he appreciated the fact that you shared it with him. The explanation soothed his nerves a bit, but he was relieved only when Leehan left to say hello to your parents.

It was crazy, he was crazy, Jay thought to himself. He wasn’t usually like this. In fact, he was never like this. You weren’t even his real girlfriend, yet he was acting like a real jealous boyfriend. Did he even have the right to act this way? After all, Leehan was right. He was standing there beside you like a stuck up person, waiting to judge the next person that came up to you.

You took note of his behaviour as well, and asked if he was alright.

“Why wouldn’t I be fine?” Jay sulked like a little kid, hoping that the tone of voice was as close to neutral as possible, but judged by the way you let out a resigned sigh, he had a feeling that he wasn’t very convincing.

“I’m sorry that I dragged you into this. Maybe it was a bit too soon to have you here today,” you mused out loud, biting on your lower lip as you looked around, at the hustle-bustle of the guests. He knew exactly what you meant by ‘too soon’; a month into your fake dating deal, but it was what he had signed up for, so it wasn’t your fault, and he didn’t get why you felt this way.

“I’m fine, really. I just hardly know anyone, and it seems that people think I’m either your brother or your bodyguard, not your boyfriend.”

Your lips curled upwards when he mentioned this, referring both to Leehan’s bravado and Mark’s who was a childhood friend of yours, but went to the States to study, and totally forgot how your brother looked, and mistook Jay for your brother, Heeseung. In Mark’s defence, he supposedly had not only horrible eyesight but a poor face memory, too.

Coming to think of it, these were pretty amusing conversations, but Jay didn’t feel like laughing even though the bell-like sound of your laughter did awaken something inside of him. He didn’t have a lot of time to ponder what this unfamiliar feeling was though because the next guest came up to you, and you immediately welcomed him with a tight hug.

A hug.

From a boy he didn’t know.

What on Earth was going on? Why did you know so many people? Why did you know so many boys? He met like six of your acquaintances who were boys, and there was only one girl. Just why?

“... and this is Jay,” he faintly heard your voice, and when you called his name, he perked up, looking at you. He was so lost in thought that he barely registered that you and the jet-black haired boy had already started talking. He seemed kind with his big brown eyes and lips that curled naturally into a genuine smile, and even his tone was friendly when he spoke up.

“Your boyfriend, Jay, right?” He asked in a casual, conversational way as he reached his hand out for a handshake.

Now, this boy… he was a keeper. Jay liked him.

“Yes, that’s me,” Jay greeted him with a relieved sigh and shook his hand. He had a firm grip, but his kind smile wouldn’t have made him think so.

“My name is Sung Hanbin. We are archery partners with Y/N,” he explained after he let go of his hand, and now Jay didn’t know what to say. Seeing his confused face, you rushed to explain that you and Hanbin were training together as a mixed team for the Olympics.

“I thought that only same sex teams were competing.”

“There are actually 3 different archery categories. Individual, team and mixed team. We’re in the mixed team with Hanbin. It’s only us two, it’s not like fencing when there could be 4 people in a team,” you answered him in detail, and you were patient with him even though he had no idea about archery as a sport, let alone how the Olympics worked. On the other hand, he would definitely look things up after this because he didn’t want to embarrass himself like he did so.

Not like Hanbin seemed bothered by his lack of knowledge regarding the field. Instead, he asked about his side, and was super eager to learn about all the business things Jay studied at university. He was even more curious when he got to know that Jay did rugby, and asked him to show him some moves one day, he would be looking forward to it.

“You should also come to one of our practices. Y/N is seriously so amazing on the field,” Hanbin suggested, awe lacing his words. There was something in the way he said it, but he wouldn’t think that it was because Hanbin harboured feelings for you. It seemed more like respect than infatuation.

“Ah please, I’m just…”

“I’ll make sure to come by. If you don’t mind,” Jay made up his mind about it quickly, and searched for your eyes. This was the first time you wouldn’t bring the other as a plus one to an event, you would do it simply because you wanted to. It could be seen that you were taken aback by the suggestion, but you composed your features within mere seconds, and directed a smile at him.

“Sure. I’d love that.”

There was a moment when you just gazed at each other, and he forgot about everything else around you. He simply focused on the way the shiny peach-coloured lipstick sat on your lips as they curled into a smile, and the way the lights from the grand chandelier above reflected in your ocean deep eyes. The way the foundation couldn’t hide your beautiful moles, and the way you radiated confidence and chicness in your feminine pink and white body suit.

“Okay, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to have some time to yourself. I might check out the drinks instead,” Hanbin announced, pulling you two back to reality. A hue of pink crept onto your cheeks at the reminder that you were not alone, but your smile didn’t waver as you bid your archery partner goodbye.

“I’ve also brought you a gift, but I left at the table where I saw people leaving them,” Jay announced when he looked down at the gift boxes in your hand. You thanked him, and told him that you would definitely check it out and let him know what you thought about his gift.

Not like you had a lot of time to open gifts because your birthday party was more than packed with conversations with familiar and not so familiar figures, and by the end of the night, Jay had no idea how you still had the energy to greet everyone as energetically as in the beginning. Thankfully, there were no more people who assumed that he was your brother or bodyguard, but some found it surprising to see you as a couple. Like the ever so talkative Keeho who analysed the future of your relationship based on your music taste, MBTI and star sign (whatever he meant by that), or one of your mother’s friend’s daughters - Giselle - who was convinced that Jay was Hanbin because she thought that you were dating your archery partner because that would be so YA book-like.

Nevertheless, Jay truly hoped that after this night, everyone would know that you two were dating, so he wouldn’t have to go through this again. He wasn’t sure he could take that.

You didn’t know what got into Jay when he gave in to Hanbin’s suggestion because he was usually reserved when it came to such events. You would think that he didn’t want to bother with it since he hated blind dates just as much as you did, and you weren’t even dating for real, so it could have been just another nuisance in his eyes.

Nevertheless, he didn’t go back on his word, but asked when he could come by, and so you settled on a date. He made sure to ask if you were comfortable by the idea of him coming to your practice, but you reassured him that you were totally fine with it. Even though you didn’t interact that much in person, you rather texted the other, your impression of him was quite positive. He was a just person, someone who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, but he was also very attentive, noticing when the screw of your earring let go and fixing it for you at the business event you had attended, or how he had gone around to find a blanket for you when you had been sitting outside in the garden at your birthday party. Even his gift was thoughtful: he bought an Avalon archery bag for you which was a good quality bag for professional athletes. You were in need of a new one anyway, so you brought it with you to practise ever since, something that Hanbin couldn’t not notice.

Ever since the two boys had met at your birthday party, Hanbin had been asking about how you had met and whether it was difficult to keep up a relationship with your training schedule and Jay’s university classes. To be honest, you didn’t decide on such details with Jay, so you spoke the truth, and told him that you had met on a blind date, and you had made it work through texts and calls because you wanted to. Which was actually true because you and Jay were getting to know each other, and sometimes it felt like it wasn’t just for the sake of the fake dating deal, but because you really did want to know more about the other. At least, you wanted to know more about him.

The indoor archery range had a security system in place, so only the athletes and the staff could enter who had a card to use the building, so you went out to let Jay inside when he texted you that he arrived. You inquired if he found it easy to get here, and he said that it was fine, and he found a decent parking place not far, so it was alright. Because of course, he knew how to drive and he had his own car. Jay was every girl’s dream after all, no wonder that title followed him around like second skin.

“So it’s just you practising today, or will there be others?”

“We’ve booked a range for us, so it’ll be me, Hanbin and our two coaches. I let the coaches know that we would have a visitor, but it’s alright. A lot of archers visit each other’s practice to learn about techniques, so you won’t stand out too much. Or maybe just a bit,” you pointed at his sleek black cotton pants, dress shoes and white shirt that he tucked into his pants, highlighting his slender waist.

Jay seemed a tad bit coy at your playful call-out, his lips slightly puckering as he looked down at his - probably usual - attire, but he went back to his usual self immediately.

“I hope I won’t be too distracting,” he mentioned with an unbothered look, but you couldn’t help but nudge him in the side.

“What was that? Were you flirting with me?”

“I-” He was about to protest, probably not thinking too much into his words, but then, it dawned on him why you teased him. “I’m your boyfriend after all, aren’t I?” He shrugged nonchalantly, but you could see a hint of amusement prompting his lips to curl upwards.

No matter how many times you said the words ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ out loud, it still seemed unfamiliar. Yet, there was a certain thrill to it too, something that you had never experienced before. Not since you had broken up with your boyfriend of three months in high school, at least.

After pulling yourself together, you guided Jay to the right room, and told him that he could sit in the spectators’ stand, you also put your bag there. So he took a seat in the front row beside your bag after greeting the ones who were present. Hanbin gave you a knowing look before he turned towards his coach who gave him some instructions. After warming up, you attached the quiver to your waist, and you held up the bow, testing the limbs and the hand. That’s when you realised that you had left a part of it in your bag, so you jogged up to the slightly confused Jay.

“Could you pass me the kisser from my bag?”

“The what?” The boy’s eyebrows shot up so high, you were afraid that his eyes would pop. That’s when you realised that you had used the jargon that he wasn’t familiar with.

“It’s this little black button in the right pocket of my bag,” you explained to him while you leaned onto the rail separating you two. Jay’s shoulders sagged in relief, and you found it difficult to hold back your laughter seeing his bewildered expression. Well yeah, the button was called kisser because it was attached to the bowstring, and your lips usually touched this part when aiming, to give consistent vertical reference. But he must have thought of something else.

Either way, Jay found the button, and handed it to you which you accepted with a grateful smile. Your fingers lightly grazed his hand in the meantime, and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks. No matter how many accidental touches you shared, it was still unfamiliar to you, the effect he had on you.

“Are you sure you will be able to concentrate with him here?” Hanbin teased once you jogged back to him, and you gave him a long stare.

“It’s not like it wasn’t your idea to invite him here.”

“Well, let’s just say I knew what I was doing,” he shrugged, a teasing little grin stretching on his lips. You nudged his shoulder in return and told him to focus on hitting the gold target face.

Despite Hanbin’s warning, the practice went well. What’s more, it went exceptionally well. You both scored high, and even if you didn’t perform that well in a set, you made up for it in the next one. One thing about mixed archery that you liked was that you could cheer on your partner without fearing for your own ranking, and it was easy to shoot beside Hanbin because he was very supportive, and even if he took archery seriously, he knew when to be silly to ease the tension. He was determined and hard-working just like you, and your coaches often said that you seemed like you were made to be each other’s partners.

Once your coaches left and it was nearing the end of your time slot, Hanbin inquired from Jay if he wanted to try it out himself. He objected vehemently, saying that after your practice, he didn’t want to embarrass himself. You didn’t force him either, but thanked him for coming by.

“I will give you a lift,” he offered gently when you walked up to him to get your bag.

“You really don’t have to. It might take about half an hour before I will get ready.”

“It’s alright. I don’t have other plans,” he protested firmly, and you didn’t have the heart to go against him when he offered it himself. He really wouldn’t say it out loud, but you had a feeling that he was offering to give you a ride because it was getting dark outside, and he didn’t want you to go home alone.

“Thanks. I will be quick,” you promised beamingly, and off you went.

After taking a quick shower, getting changed and putting your hair up into a high ponytail, you were fresh and clean, ready to head out. Jay was standing on the other side of the security gate, leaning against the wall while scrolling through his phone. You had a feeling someone let him out - maybe the security guard or Hanbin because he always finished earlier than you -, but still, it was nice to see him standing there even though he really did stand out in his business outfit while you had sweatpants and a knitted sweater on.

Jay’s nonchalant expression turned lighter when he caught sight of you, and he immediately reached for your bag, holding it for you without saying a word. Your face flushed when your hands touched again, but you looked the other way to hide your embarrassment.

You let silence fall over the two of you as you were walking towards his car, and when you stepped inside the vehicle, you felt like you were the one who stood out in your casual, sporty outfit. Alas, you preferred comfort over style when you were off to practise or coming from practise, and you were thankful that you didn’t need to wear high heels or dresses during these times. Plus, it’s not like Jay made a comment on it, instead, he inquired if the temperature was alright in the car, and if you preferred to have the radio on or not.

“So how did you like the practice? I hope it wasn’t too boring,” you inquired when the boy started the engine and drove out from the parking lot.

“It wasn’t boring at all. I didn’t know the distance for archery is 70 metres, so I was impressed that you could control the arrow from such a distance.”

“How did you know it was 70 metres?”

Jay’s Adam’s apple bobbed hearing your question as if he didn’t want to acknowledge that he clearly made his research. You definitely didn’t tell him about that.

“Well, I read it somewhere before,” he mumbled under his nose, but you couldn’t help this warm, embracing feeling bubbling up inside of you. He might have looked cold and composed, but you seemed to shake up his demeanour lately.

You talked a bit more about archery during the car ride because he was curious about the type of arrows you used, how you controlled the draw length and the aim, and whether you enjoyed individual, team or mixed archery the most. You found it heart-warming that he asked you about this because archery meant so much to you, but when you went to high society events with your parents, oftentimes the people there only asked about whether you had a boyfriend and when you would join your father’s company. Your parents never forced you to choose a different path, but these kinds of interactions came with the type of life they had chosen for themselves when you moved from Busan to Seoul, and your father set up his company that has since become one of the most important AI consulting companies in not just Seoul but the whole country.

Time passed by in a blink of an eye while you were talking, and you found yourself at home in no time. Yet, as his car drove out of your driveway, you realised that you wouldn’t mind if he gave you a ride back home more often.

Bit by bit, you and Jay got closer, and there was no denying it anymore. He went to your practices a few more times, you showed up at business events beside him other times, and in the meantime, you continued texting and calling each other. Jay also made it a habit to pick you up after practice when he didn’t have anything else to do, and sometimes Hanbin joined you, too. Jay liked him because he could see that he was a genuine, kind guy who would want nothing bad for you, and your archery partner also gave him his phone number, so Jay could reach out to him in case you didn’t pick up your phone or anything like that. Which was really attentive of him, and despite not saying it out loud, Jay grew fond of the other boy, too.

Alas, his fondness towards you could not be contained that easily, and it didn’t take long for his friends to pick up on his antics. Jake and Sunghoon teased him ever since Jay admitted that he “wasn’t feeling neutral towards you” which, in his dictionary, meant that he liked you, and they kept bombarding him with dating advice. He would never force you to date him though, and you had enough on your plate with the Olympics coming up, so he didn’t want to complicate things even further.

However, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t be supportive of you and your dreams.

“So… are you going to the Olympics with Y/N?” Jake inquired once when they were having lunch together between classes. Jay almost choked on his food, he was so surprised.

“Why would I go with her to the Olympics? She didn’t tell me that she wants me there,” he furrowed his eyebrows, looking at his puppy-like friend. Jake and Sunghoon shared a glance, and there was a knowing smile in the corner of Sunghoon’s lips when he spoke up.

“Jay, my dear friend, you really don’t know a thing about relationships, do you?”

“It’s not like you have that much experience,” Jay snorted, pointing out the fact that he and Chaerin had only been dating for half a year. To be precise, dating officially because they also had their fake dating period when Sunghoon had tried to keep Chaerin’s douchebag ex away by pretending to be her boyfriend. But he had already had a crush on the cheerleader, so his feelings had been genuine when they had started fake dating.

“Well, it’s still more than your experience which is close to zero,” he shrugged and reached for his bottle of water. Jake found the conversation amusing as he kept smiling while shoving kimchi fried rice into his mouth.

“Well then, enlighten me. Why should I go?” Jay gave up on trying to argue with them because as much as he wanted to deny it, the thought had crossed his mind that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be too bad if he went to the Olympics to watch your competitions. Then again, you had never asked if he wanted to come or if he was willing to come, so he didn’t bother asking either.

“To support her. I’m pretty sure she’s all nerves, especially because she had a bronze medal in the last Olympics, so she must be feeling a lot of pressure. Not to mention that she and Hanbin are said to be the most promising duo for the team archery.”

“It’s mixed archery,” Jay corrected Jake’s choice of words, and his two friends immediately shared a glance. Oh well, he had really become a bit of an expert in archery, but could they blame him? He was trying not to be too nosy during practices, so he did his own research and watched your previous matches to gain more knowledge regarding your field.

Jay didn’t need to ask how they knew about your rankings because they pulled up your Wikipedia page the moment he told them that you were his fake girlfriend, and besides, he might have been dropping hints here and there. However, he had to give it to them that they were right, and despite the fact that you wouldn’t want to show it, he could see the dark circles under your eyes, and you had even managed to fall asleep once while he had been driving you home after practice. You seemed to lose a bit of your smile too, and he hated that he couldn’t do anything about it, except trying to be extra comforting and supportive.

He didn’t even need to be told twice. After asking Hanbin about your Olympics schedule, he booked himself a hotel and a plane ticket, and arrived the day before your first official match. He didn’t want you to worry about his safety while you were supposed to focus on your performance, so he only told you that he arrived when he got the green light from Hanbin that you finished with your last practice before your first day of competing.

Locks still stuck to your forehead when you rushed out of the stadium after a shower and changing clothes, and you hugged him so tightly upon seeing him that he immediately knew that coming here was the best decision that he had ever made.

“Thank you so much for coming! I can’t believe that you’re here,” you exclaimed giddily, and despite the fact that it was your first hug, somehow it felt so good, so right. You didn’t even seem embarrassed as you kept babbling afterwards about literally everything: the food in the Olympic village, how your room looked and how practise went that day.

He listened to you attentively, his heart a lot lighter that he could see you smile, and because you must have been hungry and tired, he treated you to a meal. You didn’t even want to talk him out of it, and enjoyed dinner with him to the last moment. He didn’t even want to let you go so soon, so he offered to walk you back to your accommodation.

“This morning, I was so nervous that I thought I’m coming down with something. I was also not performing as well during practice as I wanted to, but I feel like I’m a lot lighter now that you’re here. The fact that you carved time out of your day to come here willingly means so much to me,” you admitted coyly as he was walking beside you. He couldn’t go with you all the way because outsiders weren’t allowed in the Olympic village, but you still had some time as it was on the other side of the park you were currently strolling in.

“Even just the fact that you are here means that you’re doing great. I know you might feel the pressure to do better than four years ago, but know that you’re already a winner. You’re already one of the most excellent archers in the whole world,” he mused out loud, and if it wouldn’t have been for the bright lights in your deep dark eyes, he might have wanted to dig a hole for himself because that was quite cheesy. It came from his heart though, and you seemed to appreciate it so much that you were visibly touched.

“Don’t cry…” he shushed you when he noticed you tearing up, and reached out to wipe the first teardrop away that was racing down your cheeks. You looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, and he felt like time stopped around you as you two were standing still in the middle of the walking path, surrounded by the shushing of the trees and the watching eyes of the street lamps. To him, you looked vulnerable yet strong, someone who wasn’t afraid to face her feelings and though the sight of you with tears in your eyes churned his heart, he was also thankful that he could be there for you.

“I’m just… I’m just so happy that you’re here,” you choked up, hidden away emotions surfacing as you let it out. Jay let you cry as much as you wanted, handing you tissues and letting you hug him as long as you wanted. Before, he might have thought that you would be better off without him because you had a lot on your plate already, but now more than ever, he was sure that you needed him just as much as he needed you.

But he didn’t ask the question until you were finished with all of your competitions, until you were finished with all the celebrations for your gold medal in individual female archery and mixed archery alike and 4th in team archery, and until you were leaving behind the country.

Only as the stewardesses signalled that the plane was ready to depart in Seoul, did he dare to ask the question:

“Would you like to go on a date with me? A real one?”

The smile that you gave him was enough of an answer by itself, but when you confirmed that yes, you would be more than thrilled to go, he was the happiest person on Earth. Even if you managed to confuse Hanbin who was sitting on the other side of the aisle (after giving up his seat for Jay) by what you meant by a real date.

But he didn’t have to know that.

➳ Check out: my ENHYPEN masterlist

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for ENHYPEN or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[gyuwoncheol]

Nothing

Pair: Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: fluff, birthday drabble!

Summary: “It’s your birthday, you can’t just do nothing.” -Kim Mingyu (2023.10.07)

WC: ~800

Author’s Note: completely self-indulgent fluff with my ult to celebrate another year round the shiny ☀️ (this isn’t proof read either).

“Are you sure you really don’t wanna do anything today?” Mingyu asked for the umpteenth time that morning, a pout on his face as he pulled you closer to his side of the bed and rested his chin on your shoulder

“Mhmm”

“Like sure, sure?”

You giggled at the persistence. Truth be told, he’s asked you this question since weeks ago. “Yeah, Gyu. I’m sure.”

“But why? It’s your birthday, you can’t just do nothing.”

“Yes, I can. If I wanna just lay here the whole day with you then I will.”

“But why?”

You giggled a bit more, he seriously sounded like one of those 5 year olds who just keep asking ‘why?’. You turned to your side to snuggle into him, one leg intertwining with his, “because… you’re just so nice… and soft.”

“I’m not soft!” He said in fake offense, “Have you felt these muscles?” Mingyu flexed everything he could manage to prove a point but it only made you break into fits of giggles.

“I know, love,” You replied after calming a bit more, pinching his cheeks while he made a face, “but you’re also still soft and squishy to me.”

“Okay okay…” he huffed, “but birthday plans, seriously? Just lay here?”

“Hmm… apart from a shower, some bathroom breaks, and meals? Sure, why not.” You shrugged.

Mingyu groaned at your answer, he just couldn’t believe you didn’t want to do anything on your birthday. If it were up to him, you would’ve been on your 4th activity by now. This isn’t to say Mingyu didn’t plan things for your birthday, he so did; from lunch with your family, a date to that gallery you’ve always wanted to go, a shopping spree in your favorite book store, and a dinner reservation with him in your fave restaurant, he had it all planned. Except you had kindly requested him to set them tomorrow, the day after your birthday. Today, you just wanted to relax and curl up against your boyfriend, and not be pressured about dressing up, and being on time to things, or entertaining guests at a birthday party.

“This is really killing you, huh?” You chuckled.

“Yes” was the clear answer he gave, “i just… i just don’t want you to look back on this birthday and think, ‘wow we did nothing,’ or feel like you wasted your day-“

“Hey, being with you on my birthday is the total opposite of wasting my day. After last year, this is honestly the best birthday gift I could have.”

Mingyu tried to recall what you meant by ‘last year,’ and then he remembered that last year, he wasn’t even with you on your special day. He was on tour, and he still remembers how you cried silently to him on the phone, frustrated about how you had to work on your birthday, stuck in the office for a full 12hours to prepare for a stupid presentation that no one really ever cared about. It finally clicked in his head, last year’s birthday was exhausting and lonely for you. Maybe this slow down was truly all you needed.

“Angel?” Mingyu asked after a few breaths as he lazily drew patterns on your back.

“Yeah?”

“Will you kill me if I ask you to watch me bake your birthday cake downstairs? Or can that still count as doing nothing?”

You looked up at the sheepish smile Mingyu was sporting, the crinkles in his eyes appearing when you craned your neck to kiss him. Though your boyfriend wasted no time to part your lips and bring you closer, everything about the kiss was soft and gentle. The kind that took your breath away but also made you feel like everything in the world was okay as long as you had him. Maybe it was the way your boyfriend just really wanted to make you feel loved and celebrated despite your lack of “excitement” or maybe it was the way Mingyu’s thumb softly carressed your cheek, but you definitely felt the butterflies in your stomach erupt and a happy sigh left your lips. When you broke apart for air, you could only match the wide grin on your boyfriend’s face.

He took your kiss as a yes of course, but he needed to scratch the itch in his brain, he needed to make sure you were ok with it, especially when he had already laid out all the ingredients on the countertop earlier and you definitely won’t miss it when you go down, not when he also had a huge buoquet of flowers and big shiny balloons displayed. “Sooo…?”

“Tell you what, I’ll even help you bake and it will still count as nothing.”

[youflowerr-youfeast]

Lavender Haze (NH13) - Chapter One.

a/n: Ok, HERE WE GOOO! Full context - this chapter is a bit heavy, especially for the first one, but it's important to the plot, I swear!!! So I apologise for sad boi hour, but it hold on until the end bc it gets cute! I am low key so nervous to share this because I haven't written in some time, but I am taking a note from our main girl of this story and being brave! lmaoo

** Content warning: death, grief. **

5.1K words

Sofia. 

May 3rd. 

To everyone else, it was just another day—24 hours that would come and go like any other. People would wake up, go to work, return home, and never think twice about it. But for her, it was different.  

May 3rd should have been Sofia’s 23rd birthday. A day she would have once celebrated with joy. But now, it carried a lot more weight than that. It was the anniversary of her brother's death—six years since she last saw him.  

As a child, her birthday had been almost her favourite day of the year, filled with excitement so intense she could barely sleep the night before. Her parents used to gently tease her for being a bundle of energy, forever telling her to calm down and go to bed. Back then, her birthday was just that—pure, unbridled joy, untouched by grief.

Her seventeenth birthday was supposed to be simple, but it was the one that changed everything. It was meant to just be a small gathering with close friends and family. But what she was truly excited about was Max, her older brother, coming home from college. She hadn’t seen him in almost six months, and with her senior year taking up most of her time, their calls had become rare. The thought of having him there, even for just a day, meant more to her than anything else.

The night began with her best friends arriving, filling the house with laughter and lighthearted gossip about high school crushes and menial drama. But as the evening wore on, she couldn’t stop glancing at her phone. Max still hadn’t shown up.

Each time she checked the time, frustration gnawed at her. Maybe he was just running late, or maybe—though she hated the thought—he’d forgotten. She tried to focus on the party, but the longer he was absent, the harder it became to push down the nagging feeling she felt in her heart and stomach.

It was when her aunt stepped into the living room, her expression so sombre that the laughter instantly faded. In that moment, she felt it in her chest—something was terribly, horribly wrong.

She sprang to her feet and hurried toward her aunt, who gently led her out of the room, away from the curious stares and whispers of her friends.

“Sweetheart… it’s—it’s Max…” her aunt began, her voice trembling, but she was abruptly interrupted by the sound of her mother’s sobs echoing down the hall from the kitchen. That sound—raw and broken—made the truth hit her like a punch to the chest. Her aunt’s voice trembled, the weight of what she had to say too heavy to bear. “He was on his way here and…” She paused, the words almost too painful to speak. “There was an accident, sweetheart. A drunk driver ran a red light and hit his car.” She looked away, her voice barely above a whisper. “The ambulance… it didn’t make it in time.”

The walls had closed in around her that day, suffocating her with the weight of those words. He wasn’t late. He hadn’t forgotten. God, how she had wished he’d simply forgotten. But Max wasn’t coming home. He wasn’t ever coming home. The sound of her mother’s sobs had shattered her last shred of hope. He was gone, and with him, a piece of her heart had been ripped away, leaving her hollow.

Even now, six years later, the same crushing weight settled on her chest. She sat alone in her apartment, nursing her third glass of red wine, her eyes fixed blankly on the clock—just as she had that night, waiting for someone who would never arrive. May 3rd, once a day of joy and celebration, had become a shadow that hung over her, heavy and inescapable.

The wine swirled lazily in her glass as she sat in the stillness of her living room, weighed down by the pull of her memories. Each tick of the clock on the wall seemed to echo louder in the quiet, stretching the silence until it felt unbearable. With a heavy sigh, she stood and drifted toward the shelves that held her collection of records—a hobby she’d shared with Max as a teenager.

She ran her fingers absentmindedly over the spines, not caring which album she chose. It didn’t matter. She just needed sound—anything to drown out the relentless swirl of thoughts in her mind. Picking a random vinyl, she placed it on the turntable, letting the familiar soft crackle of the needle fill the empty space. It was a small comfort, but it was enough for now.

As the first notes hummed softly through the room, she wandered into the kitchen, reaching for the half-empty bottle of red on the counter. With a quiet sigh, she poured herself another glass, watching the dark liquid swirl. “Happy birthday, Fia,” she muttered weakly, raising the glass to her lips for a long, slow sip. The words felt hollow, as if they belonged to someone else.

Her phone had buzzed a few times earlier, well-meaning messages from friends asking her to come out for drinks, to celebrate like she used to. But she had ignored them. She always did on this day. The thought of being around anyone else, of pretending everything was normal, felt impossible.

Instead, she let the solitude wrap around her, the soft music filling the hollow space as she took another slow sip of wine. For a while, it was enough—a fragile barrier between her thoughts and the weight of the day.

But as the minutes ticked by, the silence was gradually interrupted. A muffled sound, distant at first, began creeping through the walls. Voices. Laughter. It started as a low hum, barely noticeable, but it grew louder, more persistent, until it was impossible to ignore.

She shifted on the couch, trying to block it out. Turning the volume up on the record player, she closed her eyes and leaned back, focusing on the music. But the voices, the laughter—deep and rowdy—broke through, louder now.

She set down her glass and sighed, brushing a hand through her hair as frustration started to creep in. It’s just a bit of noise, she told herself. You can handle it.

Pushing herself up, she wandered over to the window, hoping a change of view might distract her. She stared out at the dim cityscape of New Jersey, the streets below offering very little in the way of easing her irritation from the lively gathering happening on the other side of her wall. 

The sound of glass clinking and bursts of laughter cut through again, this time even louder, as if a whole crowd had gathered next door. She rubbed her temples, willing herself to stay calm. Maybe she could drown it out by creating some distance. She made her way into her bedroom, closing the door, climbing onto her bed, and switching on her TV to find a movie that she could fall asleep to. But even as the first few opening scenes of the film played the bass of their voices still managed to seep through. 

She gritted her teeth, her patience wearing thinner with each passing minute. This wasn’t just a few people chatting—it sounded like a full-blown party. On any other day, she probably wouldn’t have cared that her new neighbour was making more noise than usual. The apartment had only recently been occupied, and she might have given them a free pass, maybe even a smile in passing. But not today.

A sharp surge of frustration coursed through her as she pushed herself up from the bed, the laughter and voices growing louder, more distinct. Male voices booming, dishes clattering, and then—what sounded like a cheer erupting from the group. Her pulse quickened, irritation mounting with each noise that shattered the fragile balance she had tried so hard to maintain.

It wasn��t just the noise. It was that it was happening today, of all days. The one day she needed peace. Instead, the chaos on the other side of the wall was stripping away any hope of that happening.

She clenched her jaw, her gaze falling on the half-finished glass of wine beside her. With a sharp breath, she grabbed it, downing the rest in one quick motion. Normally, she could brush off something like this—an inconvenience, a mild frustration—but not tonight. Not when every echo of their joy felt like a reminder that the world moved on without her, indifferent to her pain.

Without a second thought, she slipped on her slippers, snatched her keys from the counter, and marched toward the door, her resolve hardening with every step.

She could feel the heat rising in her chest, her fingers tightening around her keys as she approached her neighbour’s door tha sat beside her’s. For a brief second, she considered turning back, letting it go, retreating to her apartment to drown out the noise with more wine and menial distractions. 

But no. Not tonight. She couldn’t bear the thought of sitting alone with their noise as a backdrop to her upset any longer.

Her knuckles rapped sharply against the door, the sound much louder than she intended. She stood still, bracing herself for whoever would answer, already rehearsing the words she was going to say, though they came out hazy in her mind. 

The noise on the other side suddenly quieted, the laughter fading, and she could hear footsteps approaching the door.

The door swung open, revealing a tall man with tousled dark hair and the biggest brown eyes she’d ever seen. His smile was easy, warm, the kind that made deep dimples appear in his cheeks. He casually brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes, completely unaware of the storm raging inside her.

“Hey…?” he said, his voice warm and relaxed, though a hint of confusion crept in as though he hadn’t anticipated the pretty stranger that lives beside him to be at his door. The lively noise from the apartment immediately spilled into the quiet hallway—laughter, the clink of glasses, and the hum of conversation—filling the space between them. The carefree energy behind him stood in stark contrast to the tension Sofia carried, the weight of her day pressing harder in the face of his effortless cheer.

For a moment, she froze, disarmed by the warmth in his expression. Her frustration, which had burned so brightly moments ago, flickered under the surface. His presence, his cheerfulness, felt like it belonged to a world she couldn’t touch right now—a world that had moved on without her.

She swallowed hard, her voice catching in her throat. “I just…” she began, her tone softer than she’d meant it to be. She cleared her throat, willing herself to sound firm, though the words felt clumsy. “I just came to ask… well, say… could you—” She stopped, nerves bubbling to the surface. “Could you keep it down? It’s… it’s really loud.”

His smile faltered, his expression shifting from confusion to realisation. He glanced over his shoulder at the noise pouring from the apartment before turning back to her, his brown eyes softening with genuine apology. Before he could respond, another figure appeared beside him, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

“Well, who do we have here, Hisch?” the newcomer slurred, his voice thick with alcohol and a lazy grin spreading across his face. It was obvious he’d had more than a few drinks—his eyes unfocused and glassy with amusement. He didn’t bother hiding the mischief in his tone. “Don’t tell me you’ve finally gone and got yourself a girlfriend.”

Sofia’s pulse quickened, her discomfort surging as her stomach twisted at the casual comment. The heat she’d felt earlier was there, simmering just beneath the surface, but expressing it was harder than she’d imagined. She wasn’t used to confrontation, let alone dealing with someone like this, on this day of all days. She tried to steady her breathing, but her chest felt tight.

Her neighbour’s face tensed, his eyes flashing with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “No, that’s not—” he began, but the drunk friend barreled on, completely oblivious.

“You’ve been keeping this one under wraps, huh?” The guy grinned wider, swaying slightly on his feet. “Gotta say, didn’t expect you to keep such a pretty girl such a big secret. Impressive, man.”

The comment stung, and Sofia’s nerves cracked, her frustration now bubbling to the surface. She tried to hold back, but something in her snapped, her voice coming out sharper than she intended.

“Are you kidding me?” she said, her voice shaking as she took a hesitant step forward, glaring at the man who still seemed too drunk to understand her fury. “I’m not his girlfriend, and I’m definitely not here to be part of some joke for you to laugh at.”

Her hands trembled as she spoke, the anger and grief she’d been bottling up all day spilling over despite her natural instinct to shrink back. “I came here because I wanted some quiet,” she added, her voice tight. “I’ve had the worst day, and the last thing I need is some idiot making disgusting comments.”

The smile on the tipsy man’s face faltered, his drunken bravado crumbling under the weight of her words. For a brief moment, he blinked, clearly caught off guard by the intensity of her outburst. As soon as the words left her mouth, Sofia felt her chest tighten, the anger giving way to something else. Tears pricked her eyes, and to her horror, she realised she was about to cry in front of two complete strangers. She quickly looked away, trying to hold it together, but it was too late.

Nico’s expression shifted, the earlier cheer draining from his face. “Hey… are you okay?” he asked softly, his tone filled with awkward concern. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder.

Sofia instantly shrugged him off, her shoulders stiffening as she desperately tried to avoid meeting either man’s gaze. “Yeah, fine. It’s… it’s fine,” she mumbled, but her voice wavered, betraying the crack in her resolve. The words felt fragile, like they could shatter at any moment. “Have a good night,” she added, her voice barely holding steady, the tremor revealing just how close she was to breaking.

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel, retreating to her apartment and closing the door with a final click, sealing herself off from the world outside.

The moment the door shut behind her, the dam broke. Embarrassment and heartbreak rushed over her like a flood. She pressed her back against the door and slowly slid to the floor, her legs giving way as the tears began to fall. Quiet, uncontrollable sobs filled the stillness of her apartment, her grief pouring out in the silence where only she could hear it.

-

The next morning, Sofia dragged herself through the motions, the weight of the previous night still pressing heavily on her chest. Her eyes were swollen from crying, her head aching from a mix of wine and restless sleep. But today, she couldn’t hide away. Her students were waiting.

By the time she arrived at school, the familiar hum of chaos greeted her—the joyful chatter, the shuffle of tiny feet, and the laughter of children playing in their little worlds. 

Sofia forced a smile, the one she had perfected over the years, and stepped into the classroom, her heart heavy but her face calm.

“Miss Sofia!” A small voice rang out, and before she had a chance to set her things down, Ellie—one of her students, bright-eyed and full of excitement—came barreling toward her, clutching a piece of paper in her tiny hands. “Look what I made!”

Sofia knelt down, bracing herself with a deep breath as the girl thrust the drawing into her hands. It was a crayon-drawn masterpiece—a vibrant garden of mismatched flowers, a few animals scattered across the page in bright blues and yellows, nothing to scale, but all the more cute.

“That’s beautiful, Ellie,” Sofia said softly, her voice a little hoarse from last night. “Tell me about it.”

The little girl beamed, her excitement uncontainable. “This is a bunny! And that’s a flower! And these are butterflies—they fly everywhere!”

Sofia nodded, her eyes following the child’s enthusiastic pointing. She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I love the colours you used,” she added, gently tracing a finger over the bright streaks of crayon. “You did such a good job, El.”

The child’s pride swelled, and she practically bounced on her feet. “I wanted to give it to you, Miss Sofia!” she said, holding the drawing out toward her.

Sofia’s heart clenched at the gesture. She took the drawing and held it close to her chest, her throat tightening ever so slightly. “Thank you. I’ll put it right on my wall where everyone who visits me can see it,” she said, offering a smile, though her voice wobbled slightly.

Ellie beamed again and darted off to play, leaving Sofia kneeling there for a moment, staring down at the colourful picture. She tried to focus on the joy in the child’s drawing and the giggles radiating around her classroom, but her mind kept slipping back to last night—the confrontation, the embarrassment, her neighbour’s concerned voice asking if she was okay. It all hung in the air around her, no matter how hard she tried to shake it off.

The day dragged on. Sofia did her best to keep herself anchored in the moment, focused on her students. The children were lively as ever—building block towers, playing with toys, and eagerly running up to her with their little stories. 

The lunch break finally arrived, and Sofia made her way to the staff room finding her usual seat and slowly picking at pieces of her lunch. Just as she was about to space out with the new book she’d been carrying around for a few days , the door swung open, and in strolled Amelia, her best friend and fellow teacher. Amelia, who taught sixth grade, was a bright spark of energy—bubbly, outspoken, and fiercely protective of Sofia.

“There you are!” Amelia beamed, dropping her lunch onto the table and plopping into the seat next to Sofia. “I’ve barely seen you all morning. You okay?”

Sofia forced a small smile, nodding. “Yeah, just… tired.”

Amelia’s eyes narrowed, immediately sensing the lie. She wasn’t one to let things slide. “Uh-huh. Tired or something else?”

Sofia sighed, picking at the crust of her sandwich. “Both, I guess.”

Amelia raised an eyebrow. “Come on, spill. You don’t look like you’re just tired. You look like you got hit by a truck.”

Sofia winced at the choice of words, the memory of last night and her emotional outburst flashing in her mind, but she knew Amelia meant nothing by it - it was just coincidentally a poor choice of words. 

“It’s nothing, really. I just… didn’t sleep well.”

Amelia’s sharp eyes softened a little, but she wasn’t convinced. “Sofia, I know you. You’re a terrible liar.”

Sofia glanced at her friend, tempted to shrug it off again, but she knew Amelia wouldn’t drop it. She sighed, her voice dropping. “It’s just… last night wasn’t great. My neighbour was having this loud party, and I kinda snapped at him.”

Amelia’s eyebrows shot up. “You snapped? I mean, I’ve heard you raise your voice at a four-year-old trying to flush their snack down the toilet, but at your neighbour? What happened?”

Sofia grimaced, fiddling with the corner of the cover of her book. “It was just one of those nights, you know? I wasn’t feeling well and then like.. the anniversary of… Max.” She trailed off, not needing to explain further. Amelia had been with her through every hard anniversary.

Amelia’s expression softened completely. “Oh, Sof,” she murmured. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Sofia shrugged. “I didn’t want to bother you. I thought I could handle it on my own this year, but then I just… I don’t know. I went over there to tell them to keep it down, but everything came out wrong. His drunk friend made some stupid comment, and I kind of lost it.”

Amelia sat back, her arms crossed as she frowned thoughtfully. “Well, they deserved it then. What did your neighbour do?”

Sofia bit her lip in thought. “He wasn’t really the problem. He was nice, actually. Asked if I was okay and everything. But I still feel like an idiot for losing my temper.”

Amelia shook her head, leaning forward. “You have nothing to feel bad about. Seriously, you never snap. If it was me, I’m certain there would have been police on the scene.”

Despite herself, Sofia let out a small laugh, and Amelia smiled, clearly satisfied. “There it is! I knew I could get you to smile.” She nudged Sofia playfully. “But really, don’t beat yourself up. Everyone has days that people shouldn’t fuck with, Sof.”

Sofia nodded, feeling a little lighter just talking about it. “Thanks. I just… I wish I hadn’t made it so awkward.”

Amelia waved her hand dismissively. “Eh, awkward’s your thing. Own it.”

Sofia rolled her eyes, but the familiar teasing from Amelia felt comforting. As they settled into a more casual conversation, talking about their students and weekend plans, Sofia found herself relaxing. Finally, the weight of last night felt a little less heavy.

As the last child was picked up, she let out a long breath and tidied up the classroom in silence. The bright drawings on the wall, the scattered toys, and the crayon-streaked desks reminded her that, despite everything, she had to keep it together for these little ones. They needed her to be steady, even when she didn’t feel it herself.

When she finally left the school, the afternoon sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting a soft golden glow over the streets. Sofia walked slowly, letting the cool breeze and the warmth of the sun ease the tension she had carried all day. With yesterday behind her, she felt a small sense of peace—another exhale after another year of holding it all in.

But as she reached her apartment door, she stopped short. Something was there.

A small, neatly wrapped bundle of flowers rested against the door frame—delicate lavender, daisies, and soft white roses tied together with a simple ribbon. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she stood frozen, staring at the unexpected gift, her heart fluttering in surprise.

Slowly, she knelt down, her fingers brushing over the soft petals as she picked up the bouquet. The sweet, calming fragrance wrapped around her, and nestled between the blooms was a small card. Her hands trembled slightly as she opened it, neat handwriting filling the centre:

Sorry about last night. Hope today was a better day. – Nico (your really noisy, annoying neighbour) :) 

Sofia’s chest tightened, her emotions swirling—part surprise, part embarrassment, and something else she couldn’t quite name. She stood there, holding the flowers in her hands, the soft petals brushing against her fingertips, and for the first time in a really long time she felt a flicker of something hopeful. She stared down at the card, reading and rereading the simple words.

Should she thank him?

The thought made her stomach twist with uncertainty. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to face him after the way she’d snapped the night before. The embarrassment from her outburst still stung, and the last thing she wanted was to come off as awkward or ungrateful. Yet, the thought of just letting it go—of not acknowledging the gesture—felt wrong. She glanced toward his door, a few steps down the hall, debating with herself. Her feet remained planted where they were, rooted by hesitation. What would she even say? Her mind raced with possible scenarios, each one more awkward than the last.

I could just leave a note, she thought, but that felt too impersonal, too ungrateful.

Taking a deep breath, she looked down at the flowers again. The soft fragrance was comforting, and something about his thoughtfulness made her feel a little braver. Before she could overthink it any further, her feet moved on their own.

She walked up to his door, heart pounding louder with each step. The hallway suddenly felt too quiet, too tense. Standing in front of his door now, the bouquet still in her hands, Sofia raised her fist hesitantly, her knuckles hovering just above the wood. For a second, she almost turned back. But she pushed the thought aside, summoning her courage.

Before she could second-guess herself again, she knocked.

The knock had barely left Sofia’s knuckles when the door swung open. He stood there, looking slightly surprised but not at all unwelcoming. His hair was still damp, stray strands sticking up like he’d just stepped out of the shower. Dressed in a casual hoodie and athletic shorts, he had that unmistakable post-workout ease about him, his body relaxed yet energised.

“Oh,” he quipped in surprise, his eyebrows lifting slightly. “Hey.” His tone was warm, though clearly caught off guard, with a slight accent that Sofia hadn’t noticed before—soft and melodic, with just a hint of something European.

Sofia’s heart raced, her grip tightening on the flowers. She hadn’t fully prepared herself for this moment. His easy smile, paired with the casual way he leaned against the doorframe, only made her nerves buzz more.

“I, um…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to hold his gaze and speak a little louder. “I got your flowers.”

His expression softened instantly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Good. I wasn’t sure if you were home. I knocked, but no one answered, so I just left them at the door.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of awkwardness creeping in. “I’d just got back from training and thought I’d drop them off before heading inside.”

“They’re really lovely, thank you, and totally unnecessary,” she replied, feeling her cheeks warm ever so slightly everytime her eyes met with his deep brown ones. 

“No, they were necessary. I just felt really bad about last night. I wasn’t sure how else to say sorry.”

Sofia shifted on her feet, her cheeks flushing. “No, it wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry for snapping at you like that… it was just a really bad day, and I didn’t handle it well.”

He shook his head, his eyes understanding. “You don’t have to apologise. We were way too loud, and I should’ve known better. You had every right to be upset.”

She let out a small sigh of relief, grateful that he wasn’t holding anything against her. “Still… I feel bad. I’m not usually like that.”

He grinned, the dimples in his cheeks showing as he shifted slightly with a shrug. “Everyone has their days. I get it. At least when I have a bad day I don’t have to deal with a party next door.”

Sofia laughed softly, the tension melting away as she caught his playful tone. “Yeah, not the best timing.”

For a moment, they stood in comfortable silence, the flowers still resting in her arms—a tangible reminder of his thoughtful gesture.

“I’m glad you liked the flowers,” he said after a pause, his voice quieter. “I wasn’t sure what else to do.”

Sofia smiled softly, her heart a little lighter. “You didn’t need to do anything, but they are perfect. Thank you.”

Silence settled between them once more, and just as Sofia was about to murmur another thank you and retreat to the safety of her apartment, he shifted, his expression turning slightly hesitant.

“And… about last night,” he began, his tone careful. “I’m not trying to pry, but if you ever need someone to talk to, or just someone to hang out with to get your mind off things, I’m right next door.” He gave her a small, sincere smile. “I know I’m a stranger, but I like to think I’m a pretty good friend, too. At least, that’s what I’ve been told.” He tilted his head playfully giving her another grin that made the indents on his cheeks pop. 

Sofia couldn’t help but smile, a real one this time, though it was small and uncertain. His offer almost felt like a lifeline—a chance to lighten her load, if only for a little while. His easy demeanour, the warmth in his eyes, and that grin with the dimples—it all chipped away at the awkwardness she’d been feeling since last night.

“I appreciate that,” she said quietly, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the bouquet. “Really.”

She felt the urge to retreat, her instinct to protect herself kicking in, but something about his sincerity kept her standing there, as if maybe, just maybe, accepting the gesture wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Maybe… maybe I’ll take you up on that sometime,” she added, surprising herself with the words.

His smile widened, his eyes lighting up at her response. “Yeah? No pressure, of course… but I’m Nico, by the way,” he added, nodding toward the card she still held in her hand.

Sofia smiled, her nerves fluttering under the surface. “Sofia,” she replied, then quickly added, “My friends call me Sof, or Fia… you can call me either. Whatever you like,” she rambled, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks as she fumbled over her words. 

Nico chuckled softly, his dimples deepening as he caught the fluster in her voice. “Sof or Fia, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.”

Sofia managed a small laugh, but her heart was still racing, her mind caught somewhere between wanting to retreat and not wanting the conversation to end. She felt the need to say something more, but the words just wouldn’t come.

Nico shifted slightly, leaning against the doorframe, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than expected. “Well, Sof or Fia… I guess I’ll see you around?”

She nodded, gripping the bouquet a little tighter. “Yeah. See you.”

But even as she turned to leave, she could feel his eyes still on her, a quiet energy hanging in the air between them, like there was something more neither of them was quite ready to say.

Before she reached her door, Nico’s voice called out again, soft and warm. “Hey… for what it’s worth, I’m really glad you knocked.”

Sofia paused, her hand hovering over her doorknob. She looked back, meeting his eyes, a spark of something she hadn’t felt in a long time flickering in her chest.

“Me too,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. 

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

500 FOLLOWERS = 500 WORDS EVENT

Surprise, Surprise | Jongho

-> Pairing: Choi Jongho x gf!Reader

-> Requested by: anon

-> Prompt: 23 - "What’s going on inside that head of yours?”

-> Warnings: hints at Non-Idol AU. Engagement (don't ask me how it turned into an engagement fic. It just did). Mentions of a surprise party (which it was originally supposed to be).

-> Word Count: 633

-> Taglist: Open. You can fill out the Tag List Form (events are included in general tag list) or send an ask/message.

500 followers Event M.List | Jongho Masterlist | ATEEZ Masterlist

Y/N and Jongho walk along the river, their hands joined together as they make their way home. They've just spent the last few hours, having lunch, shopping, and enjoying each other's company. Despite living together, life had a way of getting busy so it's been a while since they've had a day like today. And to make it even better, it's Jongho's birthday and it was a much-needed escape from their routine. They took it as a chance to reconnect and enjoy being together again, just the two of them. Jongho insisted from the moment they woke up that he didn’t need anything more than uninterrupted time together, but Y/N couldn't stop herself from buying him a few more gifts.  

Now, they’re on their way back to their apartment for a final surprise that Jongho knows nothing about. This surprise was Wooyoung and Hongjoong's idea. They wanted to do something extra special for the maknae of their friend group for his birthday. When they told Y/N what they wanted to do, she knew right away she could use their birthday pact as a distraction. A year into their relationship, they had made an agreement to take their birthdays off and celebrate the day together. She had entrusted her key to Seonghwa, knowing he would keep it safe, so they could access the apartment after the couple had left. 

Y/N glances at Jongho and notices a thoughtful expression on his face. For a brief moment, she worries he might have found out about the surprise party. She wouldn’t put it past Yeosang, San and Mingi to accidentally let it slip. "What’s going on inside that head of yours?” she asks. 

Jongho looks at her, his eyes meeting hers with a soft smile playing on his lips. “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you,” he replies, his voice light and teasing.  

Y/N feels her cheeks grow warm as her heart flutters at his words. “You’re lucky?” she teases back, nudging him playfully with her shoulder. “I think I’m the lucky one.”  

“Seriously though,” Jongho continues, his tone shifting to something more contemplative, “I’ve been thinking about how this is my third birthday we’ve spent together and how quickly those years have gone. Those birthdays will always be special, but this one… it’s going to be extra special.” 

“Really?” she asks, a hint of confusion in her voice as he gently stops her and turns her to face him. For a moment, her heart races with worry, fearing he might have figured out the surprise. “What makes you say that?” 

Jongho’s gaze softens as he studies her, his brow slightly furrowed in thought. “I don't know," he shrugs as he reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a ring box. "Maybe it has something to do with this?"  

Y/N's worry completely disappears as her breath catches in her throat. She stares at the small velvet box in Jongho's hand, with wide eyes. “Jongho…” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. 

He kneels down, gaining the attention of a few people that are sitting around the area. "When I said that our time together is the only birthday gift I want, I truly meant it. I can’t envision my life without you. You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me," he says, looking up at her with his big, warm brown eyes, brimming with all the unconditional love he has for her. "I want to celebrate every birthday with you for the rest of our lives. So please, make my birthday wish come true and say you'll marry me."  

Y/N feels a smile break across her face, as tears of joy stream down her cheeks. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!” she exclaims as she rushes forward to wrap her arms around him. 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

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[auras-moonstone]

hii i love your work sm! do you think you do back to december by taylor swift ethan x reader?

back to december — ethan landry

word count: 1,876

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: after insecurities got the best of her, y/n breaks up with ethan. a few months later, she goes to his dorm to say sorry for that night.

warnings: angst, mentions of toxic relationship, insecurities.

Y/N KNEW SHE HAD PROBABLY MADE THE BIGGEST MISTAKE OF HER LIFE BY BREAKING UP WITH ETHAN, but at the same time she knew it was probably the best thing for him. The ghost of her past relationship never quite stopped haunting her—do the wounds of a toxic relationship ever fully heal? Y/N was starting to believe they did, until she bumped into him, and the fears crept back into her mind after that.

Do you really think he loves you?

He only wants you for your looks, but he’ll eventually get tired of you, like I did, because you have nothing else to offer.

Smart boys like Ethan Landry end up with equally-smart girls, Y/N. You’re just a good fuck for him, a doll to have on his arm.

It’s not going to last, he’s going to break up with you. He’s too good for you, you know that, right?

Those were the words that he had said and Y/N couldn’t erase from her mind. Those were the words that led her to leave her only source of happiness, the only boy she had ever truly loved. Ethan was better off without her, he was too amazing and sweet to have to deal with her and her insecurities and demons.

But if it was for the best, why did it feel so wrong? She hadn’t been able to sleep ever since. She stayed up late and played the scene of her leaving the commodity of his arms.

The worst day after the break-up had been the one of his birthday. Many were the times she had opened his contact, her finger floating around the ‘call’ button, but she didn’t dare to do it. And then, she saw their friends’ Instagram stories and she broke down. They were throwing him a party, and Ethan looked so beautiful yet so sad, and she knew that was on her. It was wishful thinking, probably mindless dreaming, but she wondered if one of the birthday wishes involved her.

She missed him so much, the pain wouldn’t leave her chest. She missed watching him laugh from the passenger side when they made their way to college, she missed his long fingers wrapped around hers, his big brown eyes that were like magnets, and she really missed those lips she used to call home.

It had been three months since she left him standing in his living room, with a crestfallen expression and without letting him fight for their relationship. Y/N knew that if she had let him talk, she wouldn’t have been able to walk away, so she ran before that could happen.

A few weeks after that, she got into therapy, thing she should’ve done since she stepped out of her toxic relationship, and was finally able to see she had messed up. She should’ve never walked away without telling him everything first, she forgot the most important thing in a relationship is communication. She had let herself get scared by the ghost of her past and hurt a person that had done nothing but give her roses, and in exchanged she had left them there to die.

Y/N had decided it was time to swallow her pride, take her feet towards Ethan’s dorm and say sorry for that awful night. Not only for him, because that’s what he deserved, but also for her. Because there hadn’t been a day in which she hadn’t gone back to December, wishing she could go back in time and change it. She couldn’t do that, but she could still make things right.

So building up courage, she knocked on his door. Heart beating faster as she listened the sound of footsteps getting closer to her.

Ethan cursed when he heard the knock. Dragging his feet across the living room, he scolded Chad on his mind. His roommate had the habit of forgetting his key and it really annoyed Ethan. Though when he swung the door open, he froze in his place as he came face to face with the girl who lived free-rent on his mind. Even if she had ran away after the three words left his mouth, he couldn’t help missing her.

That rainy december night, in that very same apartment, Ethan had told Y/N he loved her. It was something he had been dying to get off his chest. He hadn’t expect her to say it back—he would’ve understood if she wasn’t ready, but he definitely hadn’t expected her to walk out of that door without uttering a word. He had given her his heart and she had dropped it, breaking it into a million pieces like shattered glass.

“Hi.” she broke the heavy silence.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a cold voice. Ethan stood firmly on the door, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I wanted to talk to you.” she said softly, and then, disguising the pain it caused her, though not doing a great job at it, she added, “I texted you, but you either changed your number or you blocked me.”

Guiltiness filled his chest, but then he shook it off—she left him, not the other way around. He shouldn’t feel guilty. Of course he blocked her, and then deleted her number to avoid giving into the need to call her and beg for an explanation. “Um, yeah. Look, if it’s about that night, it’s okay. I’m over it, we don’t need to talk about it. Let’s just move on, on our own way.”

I’m over it… those words were like a slap to her face. Did he really move on? Had the love he felt for her turn into ashes? Fighting the urge to cry, she pleaded, “I can’t move on if I don’t explain what happened. I understand if you don’t want to see me right now, I can wait. I just… I really need to tell you what was going on in my mind. I still live in the same apartment, so, if you decide you want to hear my version… you know where to find me. No pressure.” she gave him a tiny smile and turned around, ready to walk away.

Ethan heard the sound of his own voice say “Wait.”, making her turn around with hopeful eyes, and Ethan just gave in. Her eyes were still his greatest weakness, just as his eyes were hers. “Come in.”

The two ex-lovers sat awkwardly on the very same couch they had been laying on that night. "So, how's life? How's your family? Haven't seen them in a while." she said, meaning to clear the mood.

"Good, we are good. Busier than ever. Did you come from work?" his tone was a polite one, but it didn't hold the softness Y/N had been accustomed to. It was very clear that his guard was up, and Y/N knew exactly why—he hadn't moved on like he tried to make her believe a couple of minutes ago, he was still hurt and confused. The last time he saw her still burned in the back of his mind, and that's why she needed to explain everything.

"Yeah." she answered before sighing. "I know this is uncomfortable for you, so I should just get it off the desk. I'm sorry, Eth. I'm sorry for that night. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, I'm sorry I ever left."

The walls broke down after the situation was addressed, and Ethan finally showed how he really felt—his eyes got glossy and he looked her in the eyes, the desperation painted on his face. "Why did you do it? I told you I loved you for the first time, and you just left me. I don't understand. Did I scare you? Was it too soon for you? I'm sorry if I overwhelmed you, I just wished you would've talked to me instead of disappearing."

"God, no. Stop. Why would you apologize? You did nothing wrong." she assured him, resting her hand on top of his. "It wasn't too soon, and I didn't leave because I didn't love you. I did. I've known it since the fall."

"Fall? But we started dating during the fall." he said confused. Y/N blushed and shrugged—yes, she had fallen in love with him quickly and hard, but it was inevitable. Ethan was the most amazing guy she'd ever known. "If you'd known it since then, what happened? Why didn't you say it back?"

"That morning I bumped into my ex." Y/N confessed.

Ethan furrowed his eyes and his jaw clenched. Nothing good could've come out of that encounter. He remember the way she sobbed on his chest as he held her in his arms that September night; how, in between hiccups, she told him the manipulation and abuse her ex had put her through. And now, everything clicked: why Y/N had looked so shaken up when they met that day, why she looked so off. "What did that asshole say?"

Y/N repeated every exact word. Words that had worked as salt on a wound that had never quite closed. "I really thought I had moved on from all that hurt, but it took just a few words from him to tear all my confidence and progress down. After I broke up with you, my mom sent my this therapist's number... and now I’m finally okay."

Ethan was never a violent person, but now, he wanted nothing more than to find that piece of shit and cut his tongue so he can never speak like that to someone again, especially not to his girl. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I should've asked you what was wrong."

"You did, Eth. And I brushed you off." she smiled weakly. "I should have told you. I was just so scared, and I really believed he was right. I'm so sorry, Eth. I'm sorry for hurting you."

"It's okay. I understand now. You didn't deserve to go through the hell that asshole put you in. I'm glad you got help and moved on from that."

"Me too. I just... I just wish it hadn't been at the expense of your feelings." her voice got weak, and Ethan didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her.

"I know, but you are okay now, and you came here to explain everything." he assured her, pressing her close to his chest. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, you have no idea. I have been replaying that moment since December, I wish I could change what happened."

"Stop punishing yourself, love. It's done, it's in the past. You are here now, we are here now. That is all that matters."

"I love you, Ethan. I loved you then, and I still love you now. And... I get if you aren't ready for this but I want to try again. I swear I'll love you right, just like you deserve."

"I've been dreaming of this moment for months, love." he said softly and sweetly, eyes shining like fireworks. "Yes, I want to try again. I love you."

"Really?"

"Yes, really" he said, leaning down to let their lips connect. And as always, they were like two pieces that belonged together, two pieces that should've never been apart. "I loved you then, and I still love you now."