#literally every notif I get I immediately check

[em1i2a3]

Got You (Where I Want You)

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x Thunderbolts!Fem!Reader!

Summary: You walk in on Bob staring at himself in the mirror.

Warnings: Fluff, with some intimacy thrown in there for good measure, because why the hell not, right? The sweetness is cavity inducing lol

Author’s Note: Had this idea yesterday and had to put pen to paper y’all, I don’t know what the hell got into me that made me push aside my other stuff for this idea, but I liked it too much to not go absolutely bonkers on my keyboard lol…Anyways, enjoy <3

Word Count: 4,785

Subject: FINAL HR WARNING - CONDUCT REVIEW (Walker/Starr Conflict)

From: HR Officer Marshall Greene

“Agents Walker and Starr are now under internal review for insubordination, hostile communication, and repeated disregard of team mediation protocols. One more infraction and we’ll initiate temporary removal from field rotation. Val has been informed. There will be no further email warnings.”

Walker (Reply All):

“Good to know HR thinks performance under pressure is ‘hostile communication.’ No wonder no one trusts leadership anymore.”

Ava (Reply All):

“Glad we agree that nobody trusts you.”

Yelena (Reply To: Ava and Walker):

“I swear if you get us all sent to HR group therapy again we are going to leave you both at the next extraction site.”

You choked on your own laugh, face half-buried in your pillow as your tablet buzzed again. Notification after notification trickled in like popcorn kernels catching heat–erratic, chaotic, and loud as hell. The entire thread was spiralling quickly, and all you could do was watch the digital tornado unfold before your very eyes. You sat up quickly, nearly dropping the tablet in your lap as you scrolled through the influx of new messages. One leg was tucked under you, while the other bounced with that familiar blend of amusement and secondhand dread.

Ava’s spelling had deteriorated into pure adrenaline–half her words missing vowels, full of heat and fury and thinly veiled threats. Walker had officially gone full defensive, slinging phrases like “operational leadership failure” and “compromised team integrity” like he was writing a dissertation for Val.

You snorted as Yelena replied again but to everyone this time with a simple:

“You guys are literally down the hall from each other, there’s no need to continue to document the arguing, just kill each other now.”

It was definitely a full-blown HR meltdown, and it was definitely going to warrant group therapy again, but the thread was just too good to keep to yourself.

Your thumb hovered over the screen for one more second, then you grinned, tossing the tablet to the side of the bed, because you knew exactly who would enjoy this as much as you.

Bob.

He was never in these threads–more because he didn’t even think to check them anyways. He was never mentioned, never cc’d. He just floated above the chaos like a gentle cloud of soft-voiced concern. He was never involved enough to be a direct problem, but he was always tuned in enough to notice when issues were brewing. He never participated in the drama, but he loved hearing about it. Only from you, though. Only when you read it out loud with your overly expressive hand gestures and dramatic reenactments–like you were performing Shakespeare in the park…But only for him.

It was a tradition. A rhythm that only belonged to you and Bob alone, because every time a thread decided to spiral into a tailspin of arguing, you sought him out immediately.

Sometimes it was in the kitchen over cereal. Sometimes it was on the roof, sitting hip to hip with your legs dangling in the wind. Sometimes it was huddled on opposite ends of the couch with your legs draped over his lap…And sometimes–like right now–it meant running to his room like you were delivering urgent news straight from the battlefield.

You glanced down at yourself–sports bra, and underwear–and let out a low huff. Bob had seen you like this before, technically. That’s what came with the territory of shared safehouses, mission recovery stations, and walking around the compound late at night when you thought nobody else was awake. Those were different situations though.

You padded across the room and yanked open your dresser drawer, rifling through your exercise shirts until you settled on a worn black t-shirt–oversized and thinning with age. You tugged it over your head in one swift movement, letting the hem fall just past your hips, then you grabbed a pair of navy basketball shorts off the back of your desk chair and shimmied into them with a quick hop-step, tightening the strings as much as possible so they wouldn’t fall as you rushed down the hall.

You scooped the tablet back up in your arms, the screen still glowing with the madness you’d left behind.

HR Officer Marshall Greene (Reply All):

“This is a formal thread, please refrain from using inappropriate language and making unfounded comments on others performances.”

The excitement only grew, as you slapped the tablet against your thigh, and bolted into the hallway.

The compound was quiet except for the distant clack of someone’s boots echoing down from the other wing–probably Ava pacing while she types another scorched-earth reply to the recent email. Regardless, you padded forward, barefoot but quick. The hum of the overhead lights casted your shadow along the wall as you rounded the corner toward the kitchen for a quick pit stop.

The fridge gave a quiet suction-pop as you pulled it open and reached for one of the bottled iced teas Bob always hoarded–hibiscus and lemon honey, the kind he insisted was the best. You grabbed one–already cool against your palm even though you had restocked them an hour ago–and tucked it into the crook of your arm as you shut the fridge with your hip.

”What’re you? A professional basketball player?” A voice from behind you asked.

You didn’t need to turn to know it was Bucky–leaning against the wall just outside the kitchen like he’d been planted there to deliver commentary on your outfit. His arms were crossed, dog tags peeking beneath the neckline of his exercise shirt. The glint in his eyes showed unmistakable amusement as he raised a brow at what you were wearing. You didn’t slow your pace though, you just tossed him a look over your shoulder.

”Careful Barnes, comments like that are how group therapy gets scheduled.” That earned a bark of laughter from him–rough and low.

”I’ll tell HR you threatened me with that iced tea bottle,” He called out as you walked off. You raised it above your head in mock-warning without looking over at him.

”Weaponized refreshments fall under Walker and Ava’s jurisdiction. Not mine.” You heard his chuckle echo faintly behind you, but your attention was already zeroed in on the familiar stretch of hallway that led to Bob’s room.

It was quiet here. Soft, almost. The air always felt a little warmer around his end of the corridor–in heat and in emotion in general, there was less tension, less noise, it was very…Bob. use him, his stacks of books, and the faint sound of whatever playlist he decided to put on.

You didn’t knock, you never knocked.

Your fingers wrapped around the handle and turned it without ceremony, pushing the door open like it was your own room, like it was a shared space you were both too sentimental to label.

“Bob! You are not gonna believe this thread..” You said as you were stepping into the room, clicking the door shut softly behind you before turning around.

And that’s when you saw him…And he nearly jumped out of his skin.

”D-Don’t you knock?!” He stammered, jolting like you’d fired a dart into his shoulder. His hands scrambled for the shirt slung half-off his desk chair, eyes wide, and cheeks flushing crimson, “I-I could’ve been–!”

”Naked?” You offered helpfully, lifting a brow as you stepped more into the room, “I think I’ve survived worse than accidentally walking in on someone mid-change.” Your voice had trailed off a little by the time you got to the middle of the room, because it hit you then–just how good he actually looked.

He wasn’t even trying, and that was probably the worst part–because you didn’t want to see him when he was…

The golden hour light poured through the west-facing window like warm syrup, catching the faint dampness along his skin and the light brown locks that his head sported. The light turned the droplets of water that still trailed down his back into halos of shimmer. His chest was broad and high with clean muscle, sharp and thick, and a bit swollen. There were red marks stretched faintly across his collarbones and the tops of his biceps, fresh from a too-hot shower–evidence of his notoriously sensitive skin. A small pink scar marked the space just under one of his ribs, thinned out from more than a decade of bearing it.

You had always known he was strong–he had to be because of the serum–but this was not what you were expecting.

Bob was built like a cathedral. Sturdy like he’d been carved from something permanent, and yet somehow he still stood like he was embarrassed of that.

”Bob.” You started, but he was already trying to pull his shirt over his head and failing–his arms were moving like they had forgotten how sleeves worked. Then after a second of struggling, he gave up with a frustrated sigh and just pressed the cotton against his bare upper torso like a towel.

“I-It’s really nothing…” He insisted, voice strained and high with shyness, “I-I was just…Looking at something.” Your brows raised as you padded even further into the room, placing the iced tea gently on the nearest stack of books.

“Got a rash or something? I know that Sentry suit probably isn’t a pleasant experience. It’s basically painted on…Probably got chafing in all the wrong places.”

“W-What? No! I–I don’t have a rash,” He sputtered, a nervous laugh catching on the tail end of his words. You could see his ears turning red, then watched as the flush crept down his neck and beneath the top he was holding against him. You grinned, leaning against the footboard of his bed, crossing your arms over your chest.

”So what were you looking at then?”

“I-It’s nothing…I swear…” His gaze couldn’t even meet yours, it just darted everywhere but your face: the floor, the ceiling, the bottle of iced tea, his desk lamp. His throat worked as he swallowed, and he shook his head, “It was n-nothing.” You sighed and, without another word, turned and sat on the edge of his mattress, tablet still in hand as you looked around the room–deliberately taking your time, giving him space to breathe. To maybe cool down a little before you asked him the same question again.

His room was neat, but not in a sterile fashion. He had bookshelves stacked high with paperbacks and limited edition copies of stories–science fiction, poetry, philosophy, he even had a few battered field manuals, but they looked like they hadn’t even been opened. A few of the books had some sticky notes jutting out in soft yellows, greens and blues, all in varying shades. There was a well-kept ficus in the corner by the window, catching sunlight in its leaves. One of his walls held a corkboard filled with photographs of places he had been with the team, with little notes he had kept from you–handwriting scrawled on torn napkins or on the backs of receipts. His Sentry suit hung off a hook like a molded second skin, and a flannel blanket was folded with precision at the foot of the bed.

“W-What are you doing?” Bob’s voice cracked with a soft, almost wounded hesitation. You didn’t look up from the bed right away, instead dragging your thumb along the edge of the tablet as you let the silence sit. Then you finally lifted your gaze, brow raised with soft mischief.

“Waiting for you to move,” You said simply. “So I can see what you could’ve possibly been looking at so intently before I barged in.” He shifted on his feet, his toes curling against the floorboards like he was trying to plant himself there and disappear.

”Y-Y/N, I wasn’t looking at anything…” You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes dropping from his for just a second–slowly taking his body in again from the reflection of the mirror behind him, the long, broad line of his back, the way the light caught in every indentation of muscle like it was sculpted for this hour of the day and no other. Then you looked back at him.

”So why’re you hiding from me then?” You asked softly, “You’ve seen me topless before…Thought you might’ve been comfortable returning the favour.” You joked. His eyes flickered to yours, then away again, lashes fluttering like a startled heartbeat. His grip tightened on the cotton he still held over his chest, the fabric slightly damp now from where it met his skin. You set the tablet down with a quiet tap on his nightstand, fingers curling loosely at your sides as you pushed off the bed and stepped toward him. The floor creaked softly beneath your bare feet. His breath hitched–just barely audible–but you caught it. His whole body tensed, like prey too stunned to run, and yet… He didn’t back away.

“Let’s look together, hmm?” You said, voice soft, it wasn’t a command…It was more of an invitation, “Turn and look in the mirror.” Bob’s eyes darted down to yours, nervous and questioning, the light in them flickering gold just for the briefest moment.

“W-What…?”

”Just…Trust me,” You whispered, inching close enough for your hand to find the edge of the shirt he was still holding to his front. You pinched the soft cotton between your fingers, “Turn and look in the mirror…And move this.” He stared at you, searching your face as if trying to find the trap. But there wasn’t one–not with you. So, with hesitantancy, he turned back toward the full-length mirror beside his bookshelf. His broad shoulders squared, his spine straightening instinctively like he expected to be judged, and slowly, he shifted the cotton away from his chest. He didn’t let it drop–he held it against his side like a safety net–but it no longer blocked his reflection.

You stepped behind him carefully, and rose up on your toes, putting your chin on his heated shoulder, eyes flickering over both his reflection and the way his skin flushed beneath you. The heat coming off his body was tangible, like the golden hour sun had been sucked up by his skin and refused to leave. His damp hair curled at the end where it had dried, and the slope of his shoulder tensed beneath your chin.

Up close like this, with nothing but the mirror before you both, it was impossible not to take him in fully–not just the parts you’d glimpsed, not just what the suit hinted at beneath all that gold-threaded armor and pressure. But this. Him.

The soft curve of his clavicle, just beginning to dry, still slightly pink from the heat of his shower. The small cluster of faded stretch marks that swept just beneath his chest, curling slightly toward the soft ridges of his ribs. They looked like pale lightning, half-silver in the light–evidence of how fast he’d grown into himself, into this body he never asked for. Another quiet mutation to accommodate the weight of what lived inside him. There were more across his lower stomach, ghosting down either side of his abdomen where the muscle swelled thicker. They branched just beside his navel and disappeared beneath the waistband of his joggers, pale and delicate, like silk run beneath sharp fingers. You wanted to trace them. God, you wanted to press your mouth to every single one.

His skin was smooth in some places, textured in others, but all of it was flushed with heat. And that light trail of hair that you’d never seen before–white blonde, so soft it nearly vanished unless you were this close–drew a path down the center of him that had you unconsciously tightening your arms just slightly where they curled behind his back.

“You definitely don’t have any rashes,” You said softly, voice light with teasing but thick with something warmer. “You’re just a handsome guy…That’s built like a house.” You gave a small shrug against him, trying to diffuse the sincerity with humor, but it still rang true. Bob’s shoulders stiffened immediately, and his reflection turned red so quickly you thought it might spread across the mirror itself.

“S-Stop it,” He muttered, ducking his head just slightly, like that might shield him from your words.

“Why?” You murmured, brows lifting gently. “It’s not like I’m lying to you.” He didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched for a second too long, and then his voice came–rougher, smaller.

“I-I don’t see it… I just see this…This person who’s not themselves anymore.” His jaw clenched a little, eyes glued to his reflection like it betrayed him. “Not like I u-used to be. Everything’s just…D-Different.” Your frown came slowly, spreading across your face with a heaviness that tugged the corners of your mouth down and softened your eyes into something deeply pained. You finally connected the dots.

He hadn’t been admiring himself in the mirror. He wasn’t checking for a rash or even trying to catch a glimpse of some half-healed wound. He was judging himself–tearing himself apart with every second he stared. Comparing himself to the man he used to be. The one he probably thought he lost the day he became more myth than man. Your heart twisted with it. That quiet kind of ache that came from loving someone too much to let them stay hurt.

“…Can I touch you?” you asked gently, voice barely above a whisper.

Bob’s eyes met yours in the mirror, startled like you’d touched a raw nerve instead of just offering kindness. His lips parted slightly, breath catching in his throat.

“O-Okay,” He said, like it was foreign–like no one had ever asked that before. You moved even closer to him, your chest now pressing against his back. You lifted your hand and just…Touched him.

Your fingertips met the warm skin of his stomach, just above the waistband of his joggers, feather-light. He inhaled sharply. Not in fear–just surprise. His stomach tensed for a second, then loosened, like his body didn’t quite know how to receive affection that came without demand. You smoothed your hand upward, tracing the soft rise and fall of his abdomen, the slope of strength beneath the surface. His skin was warm and velvety under your touch—damp in places from the shower, and soft in others from where his skin had healed from stress and strain and godhood.

“You’re so…” You breathed, thumb sweeping just beneath his ribs, “Unbelievably beautiful, Bob.” He blinked like he hadn’t heard you right. Like that word had never belonged to him.

“I mean it,” You said softly, your hand traveling up his chest now, resting briefly over his heart–feeling the beat pounding steady and strong beneath your palm. “You have no idea what you look like, do you?”

His breath shuddered. “N-Not like this…”

“Then let me tell you.”

Your voice dropped, low and tender, like a vow.

“This body,” You whispered, your fingers tracing the faint stretch marks just below his pecs, “This is a testament. To everything you’ve carried. To how hard you fought to stay here. How strong you’ve had to be. You didn’t just survive…You built this. And you built it with love. With the way you protect people. With how gently you hold things, even when you could crush them.” You leaned in, lips brushing the curve of his bare shoulder, kissing him once. Then again, higher, where the tension lived tight beneath his neck.

He shivered.

Not out of discomfort–but because he knew you meant it. Because your mouth on his skin felt more like an affirmation than anything anyone had ever said to him. His skin jumped beneath each press of your lips. Your other hand slipped around his waist, palm resting over his stomach again–feeling the subtle flex as he tried and failed to keep still.

“You’re real, Bob,” You murmured between kisses. “You’re good. You’re so good. And every inch of you–every mark, every muscle, every breath–is deserving of love.”

He made a sound then–a quiet, choked breath like he was holding something in his throat. His chest hitched slightly under your hand, and when you peeked up at his reflection, his eyes were glossed, gold flickering around the rims like he was lit from within. You tightened your arms gently, holding him from behind like a tether, your forehead pressing into the curve of his shoulder. Your lips grazed the top of his spine.

“Even if you can’t see it… I do.”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was full. Of breath. Of tension. Of emotion so thick it filled the space between your ribs and his.

After a few long seconds, his hand moved. Trembling at first, like he didn’t know what to do without being awkward, before lowering it to cover yours.

His palm was big, warm, and dampened with sweat, but you didn’t mind the way it felt. He held your touch in place like he didn’t want you to stop. His thumb swept softly along the edge of your hand, nervous but desperate to keep you there.

When he turned to face you, his breath hitched again. His eyes didn’t look away this time. He just stared at you like he was memorizing the moment.

You were still holding his waist. Still close enough that the warmth of him surrounded you like a sun. His hand lifted–slow, hesitant, like the moment might shatter if he moved too quickly. You didn’t breathe. Couldn’t. Not when his fingers brushed your jaw and then curled so gently against your cheek it made your eyes sting.

He held your face like it belonged in a museum among the works of art. His thumb grazed the space just beneath your eye, sweeping along your cheekbone with the softest pressure–as if he was trying to memorize the way you felt beneath his touch. Like if he just held you long enough, maybe he could believe this was real. That you were real. That someone had truly looked at him–all of him–and still wanted to stay.

Neither of you blinked.

The air shifted–thick with something golden and unspeakable, heavy in your lungs but light in your chest. Like standing on the edge of something vast and beautiful and knowing, this is the moment it all changes.

And then he leaned in.

Not in a rush. Not in some burst of passion where your teeth could possibly clash together. But slowly–like the sun melting into the sea. Like a secret unfolding, tender and certain, inevitable as gravity.

His lips met yours with gentleness you didn’t know you were starving for.

It was so soft it almost didn’t feel like a kiss at first. Just a breath of warmth, and a quiet hum of surrender blooming behind your ribs. His mouth moved against yours with cautious wonder, wanting more but keeping his thoughts under control just for this one moment–just so he could display his secret devotion to you.

The world narrowed to the press of his lips, the curl of his fingers that were still on your cheek, the faint tremble in his shoulders, and the heat of his bare skin where your hands moved now–trailing up his sides and over his back. You traced the soft slope of muscles with your palms, admiring, until your fingertips danced along the small of his back.

And that’s when he gasped.

The kiss broke as his body flinched against yours with a startled breath, a laugh hiccuping through the sound.

”I…Sorry,” He stammered, half-flushed, half-laughing, his hand falling from your cheek like he had ruined it. You grinned, still feeling your heartbeat throughout your entire body, your eyes shining.

”Don’t you dare apologize for a kiss like that,” You whispered, and before he could respond back to you–before he could shrink away or stumble over a hundred more nervous syllables–you leaned in and kissed him again.

It was just a quick one. A seal on the moment, something that could contain it. His breath hitched like he hadn’t expected it–like he still couldn’t quite believe you were touching him so freely, so warmly.

You pulled back just enough to smile against his lips and murmur, “Only you would apologize for something that sweet by the way.” Another blush lit his face instantly, rising to the tips of his ears like fire spreading across his skin. You laughed softly and pressed one last kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him into a proper hug, letting your cheek press to his chest as he melted into your touch.

His arms folded around you slowly, his forearms curling tightly around your waist, his palms flattening against your spine, pressing your body flush to his like he wanted to make sure there was no space between you at all. You melted into the hold instinctively, sighing against his chest as the tension slid out of you like sand between fingers. Your cheek rested against the warm pillow of muscle just over his heart, and there it was–the steady galloping rhythm, thumping firm and fast beneath your ear. You closed your eyes for a moment, just breathing him in.

The scent of his shower was clinging to him and invading your senses now, there was sage, and a hint of pine, he smelled like a forest, or the wilderness–he smelled like the safest place you would ever come to know.

For a long beat, neither of you moved.

His chin dipped until it came to rest lightly on the crown of your head, a sigh escaping him–low, content, full of something that bordered on reverent. When he hummed, it was quiet and barely even a sound–just a vibration in his chest that pulsed through your cheek and down your spine like a tuning fork finding your frequency so he could slip in and be one with you. You smiled against him.

“So…” You started, voice muffled slightly by his skin, “Is there any chance you’ll start walking around shirtless more often now that I’ve thoroughly showered you with compliments?” He let out a soft, incredulous laugh–half embarrassed, half endeared–and you felt it echo all the way through your ribs. His hands tightened slightly at your back as he ducked his head a little further, his voice feathering warmly against your scalp.

“I-It’ll be u-under heavy consideration now, I think…” He mumbled, voice playful but still laced with that soft-spoken sincerity that was so uniquely his. You smirked.

“Hmm,” You hummed back, fingers curling gently against the thick muscle of his upper back before giving him a teasing squeeze. It made him jolt, just slightly–a tiny gasp of a flinch, like you’d shocked him. He barked out another laugh, and you pulled back just enough to look up at him.

“I’ll take that as a very soft yes,” You said, grinning up at him, your fingers still resting against the planes of his back. His eyes met yours–wide and dilated, but glowing now with something unguarded and bright.

“Y-Yeah,” He said shyly, a smile tugging at his lips, “I guess…I-If it’s for you, it might be okay.” He scratched nervously at the back of his neck with one hand as he looked down at you, then added sheepishly, “B-But you have to promise not to look at me like I’m a sculpture again…I-I almost combusted.” You laughed, arms still around his waist, resting your chin on his chest now so you could meet his eyes directly.

“No promises,” You whispered. “You are a sculpture. Just one that happens to blush when I compliment him.”

His face turned a glorious shade of red, and you watched the smile spread helplessly across his lips even as he tried to hide it. His hands came up again, this time cradling your jaw like it was something precious. His thumbs brushed softly against your cheeks, and he leaned in again–this time a little more sure of himself.

And when he kissed you again, it was with a quiet hunger. Still gentle, still sweet, but layered now with the quiet thrill of knowing that you saw him–really saw him–and loved every part you found.

[minkieater]

EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎

001 》 HWANG HYUNJIN

your first time on tinder ends in... success? with thanksgiving only eight weeks away, you're hell bent on getting a boyfriend before then to show off to your family. with your first and only option being a dating app, you've scored a beau within hours. will he be the one you show up with thanksgiving day?

➤ see hyunjin's tinder profile here !

smut! mdni! oral r, lots of praise, lil bit of a breeding kink (protected sex tho!) wc ~10k

“yeah, but tinder? really?” your twin stood in front of you, eyebrows twinged in disgust, hands clutching his phone in front of him, thumbs hovering over his screen. 

“what other choice do i have? i have eight weeks to get a boyfriend. the clock is fucking ticking,” you threw your hands in the air, stopping your pacing back and forth in your brother’s cluttered bedroom. 

“i don’t understand why you let them get to you, bro,” he shook his head, climbing onto his bed, a shirt falling to the floor from the movement. “who cares if you don’t have a boyfriend? just be single, it’s better that way.”

“you literally have a girlfriend, ace,” you crossed your arms, fighting every instinct to not pick up the shirt that had fallen. “you can’t say shit like that when they don’t bother you. mom, matt and even vi started getting on my case about it.”

ace sighed, throwing his head back. “you don’t know anyone? not a single man who’d take you on a date?” he picked his head up to look at you with eyebrows raised, then continued when you gave him a swift shake of your head. “what about yeosang? yunho, san?”

you don’t think your face could look more horrified, “that’s fucking disgusting. we’ve all been best friends since we were basically born, they’re like another you.”

“they sound like three options to me,” he shrugged, then put his legs under his comforter that was scrunched up on the side of his bed, “can you close my door on your way out?” 

you made a sound of frustration, somewhere between a grunt and a whine as you left his room, right after throwing the shirt in his annoyingly full hamper and closing the door behind you. you went back to your own bedroom, the complete opposite of his, bed made with four different pillows for show, not a single article of clothing on the floor. the cleanliness made you smile, you even felt cleaner after leaving his room, you immediately hopped onto your bed and opened tinder. 

SOOBIN, 23 if u like jjk chainsaw man or solo leveling PLS hmu

JEONGHAN, 29 recruiting new members for my cult

HYUNJIN, 24 swipe right if you like art & wine

INTAK, 21 5’11 since it matters

“jesus,” you said under your breath, you didn’t know if it was because you just signed up for the app and it showed you who everyone was swiping on, or if everyone around you was really just  that gorgeous. everyone got a swipe right, and almost everyone afterward until the app notified you that you ran out of likes. 

“ran out?!” you yelled at your phone, eyebrows furrowed. you threw your phone on the bed beside you, the back of your head falling into the pillow with a loud huff. 

then your phone pinged with a notification. 

you picked it up at the speed of light, eyes widening at the little fire icon on your notification screen. you opened the app quickly, checking your matches. 

intak: hey ;)

you bit your lip, a smile growing on your face. your first match!

you: heyyy :))) 

intak: wsp

you: nothing muchhhh just laying in bed wbu!!

intak: bored :/ intak: u send pics? 

you immediately frowned, the adrenaline that was just coursing through you depleted within seconds, your heartbeat already slowing. this was why you didn’t have a boyfriend, why you didn’t date, why you never have. 

you quickly unmatched him, throwing your phone beside you again. maybe your twin was right, maybe downloading tinder really was stupid — it’s an app used primarily for hookups, and that’s not what you were interested in. you were looking for someone to show off to your ridiculously large family. to your cousins who have always belittled you for staying single, to your grandma who wants you to be with someone she approves of, to your little fucking sister who called you lame for never having a boyfriend. 

you were sick of it. you wanted a partner better than the ones your cousins have, one that would make your grandma give you the ring that still sat on her finger, one that would hangout with your little sister. one that would make your father proud, would make him smile down at you, one that he’d feel ecstatic about you walking down the aisle toward— even if he couldn’t be here to walk you to him. 

your phone pinged again. 

you picked it up with lowered expectations, clicking on the fire icon again. 

hyunjin: hey gorgeous :)

you looked through his profile again before answering. he had seven pictures up on his profile, every single one of them filling you with more curiosity. he had a few photos up with art you can only assume he made, a mirror selfie, two pictures taken of him, and a picture with another gorgeous man. you couldn’t believe he was on tinder — he’s perfect. 

you: hey handsome :)

hyunjin: are u a twin? 

you: i do happen to be a twin !

hyunjin: thats sick. are u guys identical? u look identical  hyunjin: yall have telepathy or whatever?

you: we are not!!! we get that a lot lol you: tbh no you: god must save that for the identical twins💔

hyunjin: are u sure ur not identical hyunjin: u guys look exactly the same hyunjin: how are u twins and u dont have telepathy

you perched an eyebrow, fingers typing faster. 

you: yes i am sure??? you: are you a twin???

hyunjin: no

you: right you: ill be sure to let him know we need to try harder to be telepathic 

hyunjin: i think telepathy is really beautiful, the whole concept of twins actually.  hyunjin: sharing the same DNA??? being essentially the same person split into two bodies, sharing things that no one else will understand just bc of how you were born. its really poetic

you: well were fraternal so we don't share all of our dna just 50% like any other sibling you: we could not be farther from the same person lol but yeah the concept of twins is rlly cool

hyunjin: anyways enough about that hyunjin: do u like art?

you let out a small chuckle— the conversation almost didn’t seem real. you went from one man asking about nudes to another asking you about your genetic makeup, then he asks if you like art? you couldn’t believe the face attached to these messages. 

you: yeah i fuck with paintings  you: i see you are an artist  you: i like what's on your profile !!

hyunjin: thank you :) hyunjin: would u want to go out this saturday? an exhibit opened up downtown, we could go to dinner after? it’s wine night at the bar across the street from the exhibit 

the adrenaline that escaped you earlier shot back through your body like lightning, you looked through his profile again. he’s so gorgeous, it seemed too easy — is he a catfish? there’s no way he’s just walking around single with a face like that, and he wants you? 

an art exhibit, wine afterwards, it seemed so sophisticated. definitely what you were looking for. 

you: yeah id love to!  you: send me ur number we can talk details (:

for the days to follow, you and hyunjin had been texting constantly. goodmorning, goodnight, what you’re eating throughout the day, random thoughts you’re having, even deep talks that go as long as one to two in the morning. day by day he was tweaking your mindset bit by bit — every morning you woke up with the same thought, maybe dating isn’t so bad. 

three days of a honeymoon phase did not go unnoticed by your family, or your friends. 

“what’s got you in such a good mood, tiny?” your mom asked, mixing her coffee with a silver spoon at the glass kitchen table, one leg crossed over the other. you should be used to the nickname by now but it still makes you cringe — twenty two and still called tiny by your entire family.

you didn’t even realize you basically skipped down to the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee for yourself while humming a song hyunjin had sent you last night. you whipped your head around to her, a smile on your face, “it’s saturday.” 

her look was unbelieving, she knows you better than that. “you’re never this happy this early.” 

“she has a date tonight,” your twin says through a yawn, walking through the kitchen, arms stretching above his head. “with a tinder boy.” 

“ace!” you gasp, smacking his arm. you spoke under your breath, “why would you say that?” 

“what’s a tinder?” your mom asked from the table, looking at you both with furrowed eyebrows. 

you opened your mouth to speak but ace cut you off, “a hookup app.” 

your mom gasped, eyes widening, “tiny!” 

“it’s not just a hookup app,” san follows ace into the kitchen, black tee sitting tight against his skin, his arms flexing through the fabric — he was always your favorite. 

“it basically is, every girl i’ve met on there i’ve hit,” the smirk is clear on ace’s face as he looks to san, who daps him up with a chuckle. san mutters a nice under his breath — immediately demoted from your favorite.

“that’s because you’re gross. we’re going to an art gallery and going to the bar across the street for wine night after,” you smiled, a proud look on your face as you turned to your mom. she didn’t share the glance. 

“with who?” your step dad, matt, enters the kitchen from the living room, a mug of coffee in his own hands. “doesn’t sound like something the boys would do willingly on their saturday night.” 

“great, let’s just make my date a family discussion, thanks ace,” you rolled your eyes, walking to the fridge to grab your bottle of oat milk.

“a date? you don’t go on dates, tiny,” matt asks from the opposite side of the kitchen, hands on his hips, his coffee mug on the counter next to him.

“i do now,” you huff while pouring the oat milk into your coffee. “don’t ask any more questions, i’m going. end of story.” 

matt pulls his lips into a thin line, “not sure i like the sound of this.” 

“she’ll be fine,” ace counters as he walks to your side, the gallon of whole milk he just took from the fridge in his hands. “if she needs anything she has at least four different people she can call, one of us being six foot two.” 

“exactly,” you nod, mentally thanking ace for backing you up. he looks to you with a tight lipped smile and a hand on your shoulder, his way of saying you’re welcome. maybe you do have a little bit of telepathy, you’d have to tell hyunjin. 

getting ready was hard — you looked at hyunjin’s profile on tinder at least six different times before settling on an outfit. in one of his pictures he had on two tank tops, one fitted and one loose with a graphic covering the space, a beanie on his head, a pair of denim shorts and loafers. he was definitely into fashion, if anyone else had tried to wear that same outfit they’d look insane, but he pulled it off with ease. 

in another he wore black denim jeans, a fitted black quarter zip sweater that covered half his hands. he had his hair tied up and big glasses on his face —- such a simple outfit curated in a way that made him look so expensive. you just knew he’d show up in something immaculate, you had big shoes to fill to match his vibe, but you’d do it. you wanted to impress him, you needed a boyfriend out of this, after all. 

the one thing you had in your possession, the only thing that looked nearly as expensive as him was a long coat that was your mother’s. it took ten minutes of begging but she let you borrow it for the night, your only issue was basing the rest of your outfit around the coat. jeans didn’t look dressy enough, dress pants didn’t look girlfriend enough. you settled on a mini skirt with a pair of tights underneath, you had a pair of knee high boots and a sweater that pulled everything together. the coat fit you perfectly and hit almost the height of your boots, it was the perfect length. you spent at least an hour on your hair, another hour on your makeup, by the time you were finished getting ready you felt like you had really pulled the expensive look off. 

“it isn’t ten degrees outside, you know,” ace said as he sat too casually on your bed, your shared three best friends accompanied him on the white sheets. 

“i look expensive, do i not?” you played with your hair as you stood in front of your full length mirror, shooting daggers at your twin through the reflection. 

“you look like you're in your mom’s coat,” yeosang said from his spot on the bed, peeking his head around san’s shoulder. 

you scoffed as you turned around, “all you guys do is insult me, how am i supposed to feel any ounce of confidence before my big date?”

“i think you look great, tiny,” yunho turned his head to look at you from his spot on your bed, his massive frame taking up half the mattress. with his head laid on your pillows, his feet still dangled off the edge of your queen sized bed. 

“thank you,” you smiled to yunho, the only one who understood what a girl needs to hear before a date. 

your parents were close friends with the parents of the three boys on your bed, the lot of them have been a friend group since before you were born. you and your twin had no choice but to be friends with them growing up, forming your own friend group with the three boys that never disbanded, only grew closer despite your age differences. you always assumed you’d be close with them forever, that’s just how it was, how it’d always be. 

they were great friends most of the time, ace wasn’t kidding when he said you had four people you could call in any situation, any emergency, they’d always pick up. they were as much as your brothers as ace is, you considered all three of them like family. 

“i think you look great too, you gonna fuck him?” san perched an eyebrow, wiggling them with a mischievous smile as you made a face at him. 

“i am not a fuck on the first date kind of girl,” you shrugged, walking over to your vanity to check your makeup again. you grabbed your tube of lip gloss as you sat down, uncapping it to swipe over your already glossed lips. 

“how do you know?” yeosang giggled from the bed, “closest thing you’ve ever had to a date was prom, and you went with me.”

“that’s actually true,” you shrugged after applying the gloss, “maybe i might. who knows?”

“i hope you do, god knows you need it teens,” ace mumbles from the bed, his phone in his hands again – probably texting his girlfriend, reia. the pair had been together for six months, your twin’s longest relationship yet. you hadn’t had many chances to hangout with her, but from the times you have she seemed pretty cool, probably too good for your brother.

“i feel like maybe you shouldn’t be the one to say that to me,” your lips pulled into a line as you turned into your chair to face the group. “anyways, who’s driving me? the exhibit is downtown, like twenty minutes away.”

“yun’s the only one who has his car, unless you want one of us to drive your car,” san offered, and the other two boys immediately looked to yunho. 

“guess i’m taking you,” yunho said, sitting up on the mattress, no trace of malcontent on his face. “you ready to go now?”

you nodded with a smile, hopping up from the wooden chair. your parents didn’t ask many questions before you left, just telling you to be safe and don’t do anything they wouldn’t do. knowing their background there wasn’t much they wouldn’t do, your mom’s college stories haunt you to this day. 

the smiths played through the speakers of yunho’s car on the drive there, softer rock music instead of the usual heavier music he listens to. you brushed it off to the rain that dripped down the windows of the car, the vibe outside not much for heavy rock music with a loud, thumping bass, the emotional and almost melancholic vibe to steven patrick morrissey’s voice was a perfect match. 

“i’m happy one of us is taking you,” yunho finally spoke, the music quiet enough for you to hear him clearly. he looked over at you and smiled, the fingers on his right hand still wrapped around his steering wheel. “i don’t have to go over the whole call me if you need anything spiel, right?”

you laughed, “no, i know already, ace said it to matt this morning. i have four people i can call, blah blah blah.”

“i’ll leave my ringer on, so call me, don’t even bother with ace,” he shook his head, shifting his eyes back on the road in front of him – you missed the way his fingers gripped the steering wheel a little harder. “anything could happen, you don’t even really know this guy.”

“i know too much about this guy after only texting him for three days, trust me,” you laughed, “everything will be fine, i’m just looking at some paintings and having a glass of wine.”

“alright,” was all he replied, keeping his gaze on the road. yunho had never been one for many words, he was the one out of the three that you knew the least about. he kept his secrets close to him, was intentional when he spoke, only said what needed to be said always, yet he was still somehow the one you felt the most driven toward whenever you hung out. maybe it was because you knew way too much about the others, it left a certain curiosity about yunho. 

you looked down at your phone, a new text from hyunjin from one minute ago was the only thing on your notifications screen. 

hyunjin: just got here! i’ll wait for you inside the lobby :)

you: i’m pulling up now !

yunho pulled over in front of the gallery, looking toward you with another tight lipped smile. “have fun, be careful, please call me if you need anything.”

“gosh, i will, jeez,” you smiled, all teeth, then unbuckled yourself. “thank you for the ride, i’ll see you later if you’re still at the house, gonna hopefully bum a ride home from hyunjin.”

“i can pick you up, too,” he adds, and you roll your eyes. you open the door, sliding out of the car onto the slick sidewalk. 

“jesus, yunho, if you wanted to see me that bad you should’ve just taken me to the damn art gallery,” you teased, resting your hand on the top of the car door. 

his smile is wide as he teases, “your grandma fucking adores me, tiny.”

“goodbye, yunho!” you called as you shut the car door, a smile on your face as you began your walk up to the building that held the exhibit. 

within a second of being by yourself, reality seemed to hit you fast. just behind the tall, dark doors, stood a gorgeous man who was meeting you – taking you on a date, to an art exhibit at that. it all felt so sophisticated, so mature, maybe this would be easier than you thought. who knew tinder would produce such a well thought out date?

as you pushed open the door to the exhibit, you were greeted with a fucking museum. cream walls, pillars, the whole thing – you were grateful you dressed the way you did. your eyes scanned the people in the lobby, searching for mister tall, dark and handsome himself. 

as your eyes finally laid on him, you were really grateful you dressed the way you did. his hair was down, curly and messy yet still put together, a matching corduroy set of pants and a jacket, a black tee underneath. necklaces sat around his neck, laid across his chest, bracelets on his wrist and rings on his fingers – he made such a simple outfit extravagant, he looked like he had a personal stylist, someone to dress him with clothes that were tailored just for him. 

as you walked towards him, you felt your body locking up, the excitement you felt moments prior transformed to straight nerves. your eyes raked over his build, lean yet muscular, his jaw perfectly chiseled, as his eyes met yours it nearly took your breath away. he smiled, so wide you couldn’t help but return it, he was even more gorgeous than his pictures – in person, hwang hyunjin was fucking breathtaking. 

“hey beautiful,” he smiled as you finally approached him, wrapping an arm around you in a quick squeeze. “happy to finally see your pretty face in person.”

“i could say the same thing to you,” you laugh, it comes out nervous, your breath unsteady. “what’s the opposite of a catfish?” 

he threw his head back in a laugh, “you flatter me,” he waved his hand side to side, his smile so fucking contagious. instead of deflating, your nerves flare up worse, remembering that this isn’t just a first date with a beautiful man, this is your first date ever. dates didn’t come with an instruction manual, you didn’t know how to act, what to say, what to do. you don’t even like art like that!

he cut off your thoughts, “you ready to go in? i already got us tickets.” the way he looked at you was so inviting, his chocolate eyes so warm it made you dizzy. you nodded with a smile and he led the way, the man working the door offering a hey hyunjin as you walked into the exhibit. you lifted a brow, but thought nothing of it as he grabbed your hand, leading you to the first piece. 

his hand completely swallowed yours – veiny hands, long fingers that were covered in silver and nails painted black, you couldn’t take your eyes off of them until he spoke again, letting go of your hand.

“a replica, an ode to josep llimona,” hyunjin stands close to you, nodding toward the sculpture in front of him, then looks down to you. “do you know desolation?” 

you shake your head once and he continues, “it’s a sculpture, made in 1907 that’s in the museum of catalonia in barcelona. what do you see when you look at it?” 

you look at the sculpture, your head tilting to one side. it was a naked woman leaning onto something like a rock, her fingers intertwined, her face hidden by her hair. she looked distraught, like something terrible had just happened, as if she was suffering or mourning.

“i see a woman in despair,” your words are quiet and he smiles, a wide grin showing all of his teeth. you frown, “it’s sad, i want to help her.” 

“in the early 1900s there was a bunch of different pieces of art made for temples, this piece was a part of that group, well, a replica of the piece,” he tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, eyes trained on the sculpture before you. his passion was raw as he spoke, “within the group, artists made sculptures of women that had feelings like grief, despair and resignation. the whole idea behind it was capturing feelings instead of beauty.” 

“but she is beautiful,” your eyebrows furrowed together, bringing your eyes back to the sculpture before you. you frowned again. 

“notice how you can’t see her face?” he leans in closer to you, “her hair is covering it, but you can still tell she’s sad.” 

your mouth forms a small o as you turn your head, looking up to him, “oh, shit— you’re right!” 

“you’re adorable,” he smiles down at you, “do you know much about art?”

“a little…” your cheeks warm and you look away from him, a sleeve covered hand coming up to mask your blush when your faces had come closer than intended. “basically just what i was taught in high school.”

he lets out a small chuckle, “sorry to go all art nerd on you, then. i did a whole project on desolation last year.” 

“no, no, don’t apologize,” you shake your head, “it’s really attractive, actually.” 

he smiles again, a pink hue to his cheeks. “good to know.”

he moves to the next piece, long corduroy covered legs pulling you along as if he was tugging on a leash, you were whipped already. tall, gorgeous, respectful and smart, he seemed like the entire package. “ah, this one really speaks to me,” he says as he comes to a stop, squinting at the painting in front of him, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“yeah?” you ask, a small smile on your face as you watch him, then look at the painting in front of you. it looked like… a bunch of colors. green, a reddish line in the center, then a deep blue underneath. 

it simply seemed like a bunch of colors painted on a canvas, your eyebrows furrowed. “i’m gonna need you to go art nerd on me again, i think.” 

he smiles, “this is number two, blue red and green, by mark rothko. it was made in 1958, oil on canvas— do you want the whole backstory or just a little summary?” 

“whatever you want to tell me, i’ll listen,” you nod, shifting your weight to one foot, looking up to him as he spoke. his whole face lit up, he had stars in his eyes, you could tell he loved it here, loved art in general. 

you loved listening to people speak about what they love, the passion that flows through their words, how they tend to overshare the little details that they find just as important as the big ones. as hyunjin spoke about the green red and blue painting you accidentally tuned him out, eyes focused on his own, his long eyelashes, how the lighting in the building made him look like he belonged to the exhibit. 

exquisite, a masterpiece of his own, the way his tongue would sneak out of his mouth to swipe across his bottom lip, how his lips would part just enough to get a peek of the perfect set of teeth that lived inside. you gave him small nods as he spoke, not hearing a word of it, brain whirling about symmetrical his face is. 

“it’s basically all about personal translation, how colors can evoke different emotions in people,” he nods, looking back at the painting, “it’s all about the viewer, how it’s interpreted.” 

you looked back to the piece. you may have missed his monologue about the guy and the meaning but the art still looked like a bunch of colors to you — your head tilted again, your lips forming a pout. you wished you saw it how he did. 

“not feeling this one, hm?” your head snaps back to look up at him, your eyes widening. he must have seen the look on your face. 

“no, i love it, it speaks to me, too,” you nod, a nervous smile crossing your cheeks, the lie so clear on your tongue. maybe you didn’t think through what a date at an art exhibit would entail, especially going with someone who studies it. you were clueless in the cream colored walls, you wished you could see through his eyes, understand his thought process. 

“it’s okay, definitely abstract,” he shrugs, the warm smile that was still on his face told you he saw straight through your lie but he didn’t mind, “at least you got desolation right on the mark.” 

you run a hand through your hair, your cheeks becoming red hot, “i’m enjoying listening to you explain everything to me, though.” 

“there’s cooler ones the further we go,” his head nods deeper into the exhibit, his hands finding his pockets. you try not to pout again, maybe if you understood red white and blue better his hand would be intertwined with yours. 

as he brought you deeper into the exhibit, his statement sat with you in the silence, especially as you began skipping piece after piece — you thought that if this was his first time here and since he’s clearly an art guy, he wouldn’t be skipping anything. as you listened to the only noise, your boot covered feet hitting the floor, you remembered the doorman who called him by his name earlier. 

“have you been here before?” you asked from behind him, your eyes trained on the maroon coloured corduroy. 

“no, why?” it felt like a rebuttal as it left his lips, his eyebrows furrowing together, almost as if you insulted him. 

“just wondering,” you kept your thoughts to yourself, keeping tabs on every flag you weren’t sure what color to give. as lost as you were in the exhibit, it still interested you to be here, to listen and learn from him as he spoke about the things he loved most — plus there was him, the tall, perfectly gorgeous man that stood in front of you. 

the next hour was spent with hyunjin showing you pieces of art that you couldn’t begin to dissect, leaving him to pick them apart piece by piece. the feeling of being on the outside faded with each new painting, new sculpture, new drawing, he made you feel as if art was a distant friend you just needed to catch up with, even if you had never been interested in art before today. the way he explained, the way he taught, how he asked you questions, it made you feel like you knew all the information already– just needed someone to help you remember. 

hyunjin was easy to talk to, he was understanding— he was kind, first and foremost. your favorite so far was his thinking face, how he’s quiet as he stares, his arms crossed, his lips pursed. when he was thinking you could see the gears turning, you watched as that beautiful head of his began concocting some form of explanation, a feeling for what he was looking at, how he could explain it to you– how he could make you feel like you knew it already. 

then there was his smile, the warmth to his fingers that found yours again, the softness to his palm that enveloped yours perfectly. you begin to forget why you never dated in the first place if they were like this, full of curiosity, such a shared openness between yourself and another person, learning about each other and how to connect in real time. even if you and hyunjin didn’t share a passion for art, your conversation still flowed, you bonded through humor and the smaller things you’d learned about each other through texting. 

as you got farther into the exhibit, turning around and making your way back up to the front, you noticed hyunjin took off his teacher hat and put on his charmer hat instead. you didn’t notice the switch, but your cheeks burned on your walk back to the front more than they had the entire date.

“if you want to meet kkami so bad, why don’t you just come over instead?” there was a soft tug to the corners of his lips as he looked down to you, your fingers intertwined as you approached the exit to the exhibit. your adrenaline sparked, heart beating a beat faster, cheeks warming as if on command. 

“you don’t want to have wine?” you asked, but you weren’t opposed to the idea– as soon as hyunjin mentioned his dog and sent you pictures of him yesterday, you were sold on meeting him whether that was today or eventually. 

“i have wine at my place,” he shrugged, “i also have a record player and a dog.”

you took a moment to think– if you went to the bar, it’d be a public space, which is good for safety reasons and feels more casual than being in his apartment with just the two of you, almost takes the edge off. at the same time, his apartment would be quieter, more intimate, a calmer environment for you to get to know him better, you felt you knew enough about him already to be comfortable around him alone. plus he has a dog. 

“what kind of wine do you have?” you lifted a brow, a small smirk playing on your lips. you were sold already, but he didn’t need to know that yet.

his smile was worth a million dollars as he said, “you said you like red, so i picked up an ‘05 burgundy, cote de beaune.”

your smirk grew wider, ignoring the comment about the wine that you were sure was supposed to impress you, “had a plan to get me back at your place all along then, huh?”

“can a man not manifest?” he asked, immediately pulling a laugh straight from your lungs. “that’s a yes then?”

“yes, but only because i want to meet kkami, even if he isn’t very nice. he’ll like me,” you wave a hand at him, passing through the exit where a different doorman gave hyunjin a nod of his chin – a small gesture that didn’t escape your eyes. 

hyunjin’s car was nice, nothing special, it still had that new car smell mixed with that of his cologne. he played frank ocean through the speakers at a low volume, background music to the sound of the windshield wipers clearing his vision. you couldn’t help but stare as he drove, eyes lingering on his sharp jaw, how his hair curled around his neck. your focus caught on his ring clad fingers that wrapped around the steering wheel, ears perking up at the soft hum emitting from his throat to the tune of the song. it was comfortable, you were comfortable, you began to regret the last few of your life spent not dating. 

when hyunjin unlocked his front door, the lights in his apartment were already dim, and the oreo colored ball of fluff ran up to you immediately. he barked at first, but after you bent down and greeted him with a few strokes to his back, kkami was on his back and quiet, enjoying your affection. 

“i told you he’d like me,” you smiled up at hyunjin through your eyelashes. 

“i didn’t doubt you for a minute,” he stood smiling with an arm out in your direction. he had already hung his coat on the rack beside the door, he stood above you with a hand out in an offer to take yours too. you stood and began to take it off but he stopped you, painted fingers slipping underneath the wool to slip it off your back himself. 

a blush crept back onto your cheeks again as you muttered a thank you, finally looking around to take in his space. all of his lights were dim, casting warmth onto his furniture, all dark and muted and cozy. his tables were all deep wood, there wasn’t much brightness in his space, not even in the books that littered the shelves on his walls. he had a tv across from the couch with a table in between, as you took off your shoes and stepped closer into the space you noticed art magazines laid across the surface. 

the art on his walls were all of the same type, you supposed, you wondered if he made them himself. a fuzzy throw blanket laid over the couch, plants lived in the corners, hwang hyunjin’s space was so inviting. you were glad you came here– one look at his own space showed you even more about him. 

hyunjin skipped through the apartment, lighting candles, opening his windows just a crack to let the noise of the rain hitting the ground slip through. 

“you can sit on the couch if you want, make yourself at home. i’ll grab us some glasses, put some music on,” he said with a hand halfway in a candle, flicking a lighter with his thumb. he was really dedicated to setting the mood.

you nodded and sat on the couch, kkami jumping up beside you on the cushion, crawling onto your lap. you pet his head down to his back, cooing at him getting cozy on your lap, pulling your legs up to cross beneath you. 

you heard the scratch of the record player and you turned to see hyunjin standing over it, placing the tonearm on the record while somehow carrying the wine bottle and two glasses by the stem between the fingers of his other hand. music fills the space of the apartment as he walks over to the couch and places the glasses on the table, pouring both of your glasses and placing the bottle between them. 

“i can’t believe he’s being this nice,” he says as he sits next to you, an arm swinging over the back of the couch, one leg folded in front of him as he looks down to kkami. 

“is this solomon burke?” you ask, eyebrow perching up as you catch the music playing through the apartment, you recognized his voice before the song.

hyunjin looks shocked, his eyes wide and his head tilted slightly forward, “i cannot believe you know that.”

“when did this come out? the sixties?”

“1964 to be exact, rock ‘n soul.”

“when i was younger i had a small infatuation with the movie dirty dancing, my favorite off the album is–”

“cry to me,” you both say in unison, then burst into a fit of giggles, kkami leaping straight off of your lap from your movement. 

“i love old music like this, it’s so raw, full of soul,” hyunjin says, grabbing your glasses from the table and handing yours to you. he swirls his around in his glass and you copy him, swirling your own before taking a sip. you tried not to cringe at the taste.

“when men weren’t afraid to say what they wanted to,” you agreed, continuing his thought with your own, “so open in showing emotion, their feelings, their passion. i love it too.”

“ah,” he nods, “that could never be me, i don’t think i could ever hide what i was feeling for a second, i don’t have it in me. i wear my emotions on my face, and proudly.”

you smile, “that’s good, better than good, it’s refreshing. never change that.”

“i don’t plan to,” he shakes his head, taking a sip of his wine, the two of you falling into a moment of silence.

“is this where you make me tell you my deepest, darkest secrets?” you joke, taking a sip from your own glass– you were never much for wine, at your big age of twenty two the most pleasurable alcohol you’ve tasted is a surfside. you get it down without a change to your face, looking through your eyelashes to the man before you. 

he lets out a sound of amusement, “you can start by telling me what you’re looking for, then we can get to your deepest darkest secrets.”

“i already told you, i just wanted to go on a date, see where it goes– i’m not looking for anything specifically,” you shrug, referring to one of the first conversations you had through text. you were lying straight through your teeth, you didn’t need to tell him the whole boyfriend before thanksgiving spiel. 

“not about the date, dummy, what are you looking for in a partner?” he tilts his head, sinking into the couch, getting more comfortable. 

“that’s basically asking me for my deepest, darkest secrets,” you roll your eyes, then give yourself a moment to think, process his question. did you even know what you were looking for?

you thought about your cousins, their partners, your parents, your stepdad, ace, his girlfriend, their dynamic… you knew what you didn’t want. 

“i want someone who knows me,” you start, a blush creeping to your cheeks again, “someone who knows the ugliest parts of me and still wants to be with me. someone who knows what i’m thinking, what i’m going to say before i do because they’ve paid that much attention to me.” you brush your hair behind your ear, letting out an uneasy breath. “i have a big family, and they’re really important to me… despite how insane they all are. i want someone who understands that, and my family becomes just as important to them.”

hyunjin nods, his warm eyes trained on you as if he was pulling the thoughts straight from your head, pushing for you to keep going. you welcome the push as your thoughts start to flow freely. 

“i want to be with someone true,” you smile, “i want a partner who’s honest, true to themselves and true to me, doesn’t fake anything, none of that sugar coating shit. a true partnership, teamwork, someone who really means it when they say through thick and thin, someone who doesn’t run when shit gets hard.”

“a relationship is pointless to me if it isn’t built on trust, i want to be able to have full faith in my partner and they also have it in me. to be known is to be loved,” you smile, then the smile drops as soon as you realize everything you just said. three sips of wine and you already can’t shut up. 

“every time i’ve asked that question in the past, every girl has always said something along the lines of i want someone handsome, funny, smart, kind,” hyunjin’s face is unreadable, a blank expression, yet there’s something tugging at him. “no one’s ever given me such a real answer before.”

“i didn’t mean to, i don’t know where that came from,” you say honestly, then sip your wine again, a bigger sip this time. if you were going to talk like this then you might as well catch a buzz before you do.

“i like the honesty,” he smiles, “and i agree with a lot of it– i can be a lot sometimes, with what i’m passionate about, how my interests can change within a day’s time. i’m not very organized, i like to do things without a schedule, more spontaneous than planned. that’s not everybody’s cup of tea, so if someone were to be with me for real, i’m a lot to take on.”

“i do like spontaneity,” you nod, “but i am definitely more of a planner, i was happy we made plans days in advance. gave me time to mentally prepare,” a laugh leaves you. “you’re definitely a more passionate person than i initially thought.”

“there’s a lot more passion you haven’t seen yet,” he winks, then takes a sip from his wine. 

you giggle, “yet?”

“yet,” he nods in confirmation, and there’s something about the way he’s saying something without saying it, making you read between the lines but also being so obvious. it’s his confidence, the way his jaw is set but he looks so soft, so inviting, it makes you want to lick the line from below his ear to his chin. 

maybe san and ace were right – maybe you did need this, maybe you even wanted it. you couldn’t put your finger on why that sentence made your body run hot, a burning in your core that you haven’t felt in ages, a want for somebody else that wasn’t fully based on looks or a system full of a frat house’s jungle juice. 

“when do i get to see it?” you ask, tilting your head, letting your tongue slip out to lick your lips. a smile graces his own, like he was hoping for that answer. you weren’t sure where your own confidence was coming from, maybe it was being so honest with him, a feeling of being connected to him through your own revelations – things you haven’t shared with anyone else. 

“just say the word, baby,” his words are like velvet as they leave his lips, kissing your ears with such a sweetness you were willing to start begging. you’d never been called baby by anyone, never been so wound up so quickly by something so inexplicably sexual – you decided then and there that your first ever date was only going to end one way. 

as if on cue, the song changed, cry to me by solomon burke playing through the record player, the soft cracks of the vinyl making you feel as if fate was in the dim living room, too. 

“show me,” your words were barely above a whisper, the eye contact you were holding was so strong, so powerful it felt life changing when he moved across the couch.

he took your glass from your hand in silence, setting the pair on the coffee table, then his hands were on you. his right hand came under your jaw, his left in your hair and then he took a pause, giving you a second to burn the sight to memory, making sure you felt the intensity of his stare before he leaned forward, attaching his lips to yours. 

his lips were as soft as they looked, plump and sweet, tasting like the wine you’d been drinking and notes of himself, raw and unfiltered. the kiss was deafening, your ears rang, you were putty in his hands from the moment his painted fingertips touched your skin. your hands went to his forearms, fingers latching onto his soft skin as his lips moved with yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth the second your jaw opened wide enough to let him in. 

your lips were still touching as he mumbled, “taste just as sweet as i thought you would.” you could feel him smile into the kiss as you replied with a noise of satisfaction, somewhere between a moan and a whimper. 

he moved to sit back on the couch, legs bending with his lips and hands still on you, forcing you to follow him backward. you lifted up on your knees and crawled on top of him, settling yourself into his lap. you ignored your skirt as it lifted, forcing yourself free of its confines, letting it rest just below your ass and high on your thighs as your hands moved to his neck, fingers twining into his hair, tangling in the roots. 

a low groan left his lips when you offered a sharp tug to his dark locks, his hands moving from your head down to your waist, one slipping down to the plush of your ass. you gasped into the kiss, welcoming his tongue again, effectively silencing you while making your head spin. 

you stayed like that for awhile, making out on his couch, hands exploring and touching and feeling and not quite taking the step to go farther. when he finally pulled away and let his head fall to the back of the couch you pouted, the voice in the back of your head telling you to follow him backward, to lick up the column of his neck he was showing off so proudly. 

“i didn’t bring you here just to sleep with you, you know,” he admits, his expression turning serious, lowered eyes locked on yours through long lashes. 

you nodded, bringing a hand up to wipe the remnants of your messy makeout from your bottom lip with low, cracking music from the record player still filling the space of his living room. you felt as if he was leaving the next step up to you, and you were met with two choices: to cut it off here, not go any further, maybe kiss a little more then go home, maybe even plan another date. or you could grind yourself against his lap, lick up his neck like you want to, and finish what you started. 

“okay,” you blinked, not missing how his chest rose and fell, a need disguised by heavy breaths locked within his chest that he was trying not to show. he wanted this just as much as you did, the only choice was the latter— you weren’t used to the choice being left to you.

“what if i want to?” you asked, batting your lashes, a ghost of a smile sitting on your lips. his own smile grew, his fingers grabbed your hips, his hips bucking upward to push you toward him once more. 

you kept him there, back against the couch, head tipping off the back of it as you acted out your fantasy, dragging your tongue from just above his collarbone to his jaw. he groaned again, a vibration against your tongue as your lips worked onto his neck, his fingers gripping your hips harder. he used his hands to move you, grinding you against himself until you could feel what you needed pressing up against your too clothed center. you gasped into his skin– it was hot, the feeling of being guided yet knowing you were the one holding the reins. 

you didn’t need his hands anymore as your lips met his again, hips rocking against him all on your own as your fingers clutched onto his roots, tugging at them to bring him closer to you. it felt like a dance, one that you’d been performing for years, your bodies moving in sync with one another so perfectly you almost forgot you met each other a couple hours ago. 

his fingers reached for your sweater, you broke the kiss just long enough for him to tug it over your head, your fingers immediately reaching for the hem of his own shirt. he unclasped your bra with one hand rendering your chests bare against one another, the heat between you only intensifying with his skin against yours. he leaned off the back of the couch and you moaned as his hands made their way up to your chest, thumbs dancing over your peaks with a feathered touch, your hips plummeting into his own. 

“so perfect,” he breathed, attaching his lips to your chest instead and your head fell back with a sigh, back arching into his touch. “so sensitive.”

“always,” you mumbled, voice sounding completely dazed, yet you made the conscious decision to not share that your sensitivity was from your lack of experience. not that you haven’t slept with many people, you did go to a big school, but it was never like this. basically sober, so intimate, watchful eyes on your reactions and words spoken between kisses, never with a man anything like hwang hyunjin. you were used to drunken quickies with finance majors, a quick rub to your clit before they slipped inside, in the bathroom of a frat house or if you were so lucky, a bedroom on the top floor. 

his hands fell to your thighs, fingers trailing over the nylon, thumbs rubbing circles on the inside as his pretty pink lips worked on you, your hands finding refuge in his roots again, scratching into his scalp. 

“wanna move to my room?” he looked up to you and it snapped you out of your haze, nodding down to his chocolate covered eyes, and he stood. palms holding onto your ass, strong thighs hoisting you up, your legs wrapped around his tiny waist as he walked you through his living room, down a hallway and laid you onto the plush of his mattress.

his room’s lighting was just as dim as the living room, his windows already opened, a chill hitting the skin of your chest as your back hit the crimson duvet. he was quick to crawl on top of you, soothing the bumps that rose on your skin while straddling your legs with his own, fingers lifting your skirt up to your waist. 

“this okay?” his eyes flickered to yours with a pause, thumbs hooked beneath the elastic of your tights. you nodded, lifting your hips so he could get them down your thighs, yet he still paused. “words, baby.” 

your words were too quick, so eager it was almost laughable as you nearly cut him off, “yes, please.” 

he took his time sliding the nylon fabric down your legs, taking your socks with them and throwing the ball of fabric to the floor. you were left in your panties and your skirt around your waist, the skirt he quickly discarded, your panties he left on.

“you’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said under his breath, eyes raking down your body from your head to your knees. “i’m so lucky.” 

your face matched the bedspread, now you were really in unknown territory. your arms went up to cover your cheeks and he was quick to grab your wrists, lips coming forward to kiss the inside of your left one.

“don’t get shy on me now, let me worship you,” your chest was starting to match your face. it was mortifying being left bare for him when he was still clothed from the waist down, but it somehow made everything feel so much hotter. no man has ever spoken to you like this before, taken the time to learn you. 

you watched as his chiseled abdomen folded when he dipped his head down, lips pressing against the skin of your stomach, licking right below your chest. his hands let go of your wrists to slide down to your hips, thumbs hooking into the fabric of your pink lacy panties as his lips left a trail of spit down your waist. you fought every instinct to keep your hips planted on the mattress as his tongue slipped out of his lips to swipe below the hem, a gasp leaving your throat, your joints locking under his touch.

“wore these just for me?” he asked with a smile on his cheeks, cocking his head to the side playfully, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips soothingly. 

“shut up,” you mumbled, legs automatically closing around his shoulders out of embarrassment, only forcing his face down further to escape the cage you created. he giggled then placed a quick kiss on your clothed clit through the thin fabric, making a mewl rip from your throat, your hips bucking upward. 

“you’re so sensitive,” he marveled, eyes widening a bit like he had just discovered ground breaking information. 

you were growing impatient, hips no longer staying glued to the bed out of sheer will, you needed more. you whined, muttering a “hyunjin please” and his grin told you enough. 

he was quick to get back on his knees and slip your panties down your legs, throwing them to the floor with the rest of your clothes and he pushed you up the bed, kneeling in front of you. his eyes stayed glued to your center as he laid between your legs again, nearly drooling as he spoke, “such a perfect little pussy.” 

he licked a fat stripe up your folds and your head shot back, eyes screwed tight as a disgusting moan escaped your lips. he smiled into your core, you could feel it amongst his flattened tongue that worked you from bottom up.

“tastes as good as she looks,” you couldn’t bother to be embarrassed anymore, hips bucking into his mouth, your hands flying to his hair. he groaned into you, lips sucking harder around your clit, listening to your moans for what you liked best. 

he worked up to a rhythm, sucking on your clit and licking swirls with his tongue before you felt the painted tip of his finger poking at your entrance. 

“yes, yes,” you repeated through a moan and he pushed in, his finger immediately curling upward and you saw stars. eyebrows furrowed and mouth hung open you were choking out moans, repeating words of affirmation to hyunjin that you hoped made sense. 

as your stomach began to tighten, you couldn’t believe it. no one else had ever made you cum before, that’d always been something you could only do by yourself. excitement bubbled in your stomach as well as your impending release, words flying out of your mouth you couldn’t even decipher. 

“please make me cum, please hyunjin i’m close,” your mouth was moving before your brain could think of the words, back arching off the bed and fingers yanking at his hair, you were praying he’d get you over the edge.

hyunjin kept his rhythm, curling his finger inside you and sucking at your clit until he felt you clench around him, your body locking up. your toes curled as your back arched up off the bed, thighs strangling his head between them, chin tucking into your chest as you cried. mumbles of i’m coming please don’t stop left your lips repeatedly as the dam in your core cracked open, you felt static in your veins and such a vicious shake to your body that seemed to last forever. 

when your body went limp and you let go of his hair, hyunjin broke free, coming up for air with his tongue swiping at his swollen lips. 

he crawled up your body, mouth finding yours quickly and you melted into the mattress, arms hooking around his neck. “so good at that,” you mumbled between kisses, “made me cum so hard.” 

“that was the goal, baby,” he smiled into the kiss, his right arm flying down to his belt. you met him halfway, fingers unhooking the silver buckle while your lips never parted until you finally pulled it from its loops. you unzipped his corduroys and your hand reached above his briefs, palming him over the fabric.

he groaned, his cock rock hard against your skin, and you smiled. “i need you,” you said, lips still touching his, and the sound that left his mouth straight into yours was lethal.

he got his pants off in record time, reaching for a condom in his nightstand. he rolled it on with ease and slipped right back between your legs, your ankles in his hands. he kissed the inside of your ankle once, twice before he wore his serious expression again. “tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay?” 

“i will,” you nod, twitching with impatience before he lined himself up with your center. he pushed in slowly, your entrance slick with your orgasm didn’t give him much resistance. you moaned at the same time when he bottomed out, your eyes flying to the back of your head and his head fell forward. 

hyunjin wasn’t thick but he was long, you could feel him so deep. it was a delicious stretch, a feeling he shared as he said, “feel so good around me baby, pussy’s so perfect.” 

you moaned in response, hips moving to create some friction, begging him to move. he caught on, slowly pulling out before rocking back into you, letting go of your thighs to lean over your frame. 

you felt small beneath him, as tall as he is he felt massive above you, inside you. your ankles hooked around his back, thighs pushing him inside you as your chests met.

“so fucking big,” you moaned out, nails clawing at his shoulders as he picked up the pace. his right hand moved to your jaw, holding it steady to press his forehead to yours before he connected his lips with yours again. 

the kisses were nasty, more tongue and spit than anything but it was so hot. you moaned into each other’s mouths, every inch of your skin touching, everything about it was so intimate. it was all so new yet you welcomed every part of it, hookups in frat houses would now be a thing of the past — there was no better than this.

“so tight, baby fuck,” his eyes were screwed tight as he picked up the pace, his head falling into the corner of your neck that met your shoulder. you let out small whimpers with each of his thrusts, the curve to his cock hitting every spot you needed it to. 

“you g’na cum for me?” you sounded so fucked out you didn’t recognize your own voice, so weak and desperate. 

“need you to cum for me first, pretty girl,” he lifted his head, rocking his hips into you harder, bringing his arm between your bodies to rub your clit. 

“fuck,” you gasped out and his lips were on yours again, still all spit and tongue, he swallowed your moans as you felt the tightness in your stomach form again. 

“cum for me, baby, please, cum around my cock,” he moaned as you clenched around him, his thrusts beginning to lose their edge as you approached your peak. 

“i’m coming,” your words were rushed out as your second orgasm finally crashed over you, the most lewd noises leaving hyunjin’s mouth and directly into yours. you looked up to him with stars in your eyes, his own clamped shut, wet hair sticking to his forehead. he was beautiful like this — you were in awe. 

“good girl, fuck, gonna fill you up,” his thrusts were erratic, not as precise as before as he choked out, “gonna make this pussy mine.” your ankles tightened around his back as he fucked you through your orgasm and towards his own, your back arching up into his chest, nails clawing into his back.

“cum for me,” your head was somewhere else, “wanna feel you, hyunjin, let me feel you cum for me.” 

his hips stilled inside you, head falling to the pocket of your shoulder again, a deep groan leaving his chest. a moan escaped you, rocking your hips against his, milking his orgasm for as long as you could. 

you lay there for a moment, hyunjin still inside you, your ankles hooked around his back with no sound except heavy breaths and the low music playing from the living room. after a few minutes he rolled off of you, laying on his back for a moment before he got up to discard the condom. you felt cold again, the shiver from his open window creeping over your skin again, bumps once again rising to the surface. 

when he hopped back onto the bed with that beautiful fucking smile of his, warmth enveloped you once more. he pecked you once before hovering over your face, brushing a piece of hair away from your cheeks. 

“you’re so beautiful, you know that?” his eyes bored into yours with a seriousness he wanted you to feel. you smiled, cheeks flushing, arms wrapping over your chest.

your lips scrunched together in your smile, muttering a thank you while shying away from his eye contact and shifting your focus to his pillows. 

you felt like a brand new person — one that goes on dates, one that has sex, real sex. one that communicates, one that doesn’t shy away from a real conversation, one that is now fully open to having a relationship. 

by the end of the night when you and hyunjin were fighting for him to take you home (you wanted to go home, he wanted you to stay the night) you thought that maybe you wouldn’t have to go on any more dates. maybe hyunjin was it for you, art nerd and all, he could be the one to show off to your cousins— get that family ring around your finger. 

when he kissed you goodbye in front of your front door you were convinced. optimistic as ever and excited, full of adrenaline, you skipped into your dark house and fled up to your room, smiling from the time you hopped in the shower until your head hit your pillow. 

wanna go on the next date?

8fd masterlist | main masterlist

perm tags: @chimivx :p

[scottiexmariee]

Social Media Headcanons

How I think the boys would be with various social media!

Masterlist

★ let's be real

★ Xav would follow you on everything.

★ he doesn't have an account? he's making one just to follow you and maybe Jeremiah if he's lucky

★ he would absolutely have your post notifications on too, would never admit that out loud though

★ don't worry he's definitely not checking to see who else likes your posts

★ interacts with 99% of your posts

★ would definitely attempt to post a "cute" candid pic of you, but in reality it's blurry as hell and completely mid

★ ^ "but I like that picture..."

★ I do think Xav would have a tiktok, but I think he'd be more of an observer than a poster

❄ aside from the Moments posts, I don't really see Zayne keeping up with a bunch of social media

❄ man is BUSY. I can't realistically imagine him doom scrolling through tiktok or twitter after a torturously long day at the hospital

❄ I REALLY feel like he would think tiktok is overstimulating or something

❄ but he would definitely sit with you like a good boy and watch some if you really wanted to show him something (bro is a closet softie, be fr)

❄ would definitely make occasional posts of you, like he does with the moment posts.

❄ probably dedicates his instagram to scenery pictures

❄ is definitely in your comments with his dry ass humor

♥ most definitely has every single type of social media

♥ twitter, instagram, tiktok, etc. all of it

♥ whether or not he runs the accounts? probably not most of them (ily Thomas)

♥ Raf is funny af, if you've seen the "sound was crisp 10/10" moment post you know what I'm talking about. I just know there'd be a GOLDMINE of similar posts on his personal twitter

♥ can totally see him being dramatic and sending you tiktoks of things he wants to do

♥ for exanple

♥ he sends you a video of a couple at the beach, holding hands and walking by the water

♥ after sending the tiktok, he'd say something like "must be nice"

♥ ^ "Rafayel do you want to go for a walk on the beach?"

♥ ^ "well, I was gunna work on a painting... buuut since you asked so nicely, be here in 10 cutie,"

♦ okay listen

♦ this man would be gassing you up in your instagram comments (personal hype man? oh yes, absolutely)

♦ man also has no problem showing you off, you're def getting posted. bro adores you. immediate hard launch, zero shits given

♦ sometimes he posts vague ass shit on moments that only you (and maybe the twins) would understand, so I definitely see that carrying over to other platforms

♦ imagine him cryptic posting on twitter

♦ ^ "the sky is a little darker than normal today" and he's literally just being petty because you forgot to send a good morning text

♦ as for tiktok, I can absolutely see you having to explain to him wtf a tiktok even is

♦ "Why not just post it on Moments? I don't understand why it needs a whole different platform."

♦ ^ he'd definitely make an account though, simply because you asked

♦ if he posts anything on tiktok at all, it would probably be him using an alloy ammo box as a grill or something (iykyk), or reposting things that you posted

BONUS: Luke & Kieran

-Let's be fr, Luke & Kieran would most definitely be shitposters

-They are funny as HELL

-Brainrot fyp on tiktok = Luke and Kieran

-Their social media would absolutely be chaos but I'm here for it

[lov3lycosmos]

Hii!! Can you please do a period comfort with skz? Please and thank you!!!

Yes of course anon!!

‧ ୨ period comfort with skz ୧ ‧

SUMMARY: How stray kids members comfort you during your period

Pairings: stray kids x fem!reader (separately)

Warnings: just fluff!!

v4mps note: I tried to make these as accurate as possible, but this is my opinion! If it doesn't suit your opinion, I apologize :(

‧ ୨ bangchan ୧ ‧

This man is always prepared—like always. And when I say prepared, I mean he probably has a whole app on his phone just to track your cycle, complete with notifications so he knows exactly when to stock up on your favorite snacks, grab extra pads or tampons, and make sure the heating pad is ready to go. He loves seeing the happy smile when you notice his attention and care for you.

The second he notices it's that time of the month, he’s already one step ahead—texting you things like, “I got your favorite chocolate, baby. You want anything else?” Or maybe he just shows up with a little care package because he knows what you need before you even have to ask.

And when the cramps hit? Oh, he's on it. He’s tucking you into his arms, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach, whispering, “I got you, love. No stupid cramps are gonna hurt my baby.” If you need him to, he’ll even warm up your heating pad and hold it against your tummy himself—because no pain is touching his love on his watch.

If he finds you crying over the smallest things—like your eyeliner not matching or your hair not cooperating—Chan’s heart immediately softens. He kneels in front of you, gently wiping your tears with his thumbs. “Baby, don’t cry over this,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. With a small smile, he tilts his head. “Want me to fix it, or should we just cuddle instead?”

-♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎-

‧ ୨ leeknow ୧ ‧

Lee Know notices before you even say anything. The slight wince, the way you press a hand to your stomach—he’s already on it. Without a word, he disappears and comes back with your heating pad, plugging it in and placing it on your lap. “You should’ve said something,” he mutters, but his touch is gentle as he tucks a blanket around you. He won’t make a big deal out of it, but he’ll make sure you have everything you need.

He acts nonchalant about it, but you know he’s paying attention. If you complain about cramps, he’ll scoff lightly. “Well, I can’t do anything about that.” But five minutes later, he’s sliding a cup of warm tea in front of you, pretending it’s no big deal. If you thank him, he just shrugs. “I just didn’t want to hear you complain later.” (But the way he subtly checks on you every few minutes totally gives him away.)

If he sees you getting emotional, he’s quick to shift your focus. He’ll plop down next to you, phone in hand, and start showing you cute cat videos like it’s urgent. “Look at this one. This is literally you.” If that doesn’t work, he’ll poke your cheek until you glare at him. “There she is. Thought I lost you for a second.” Anything to keep your mind off the discomfort.

Lee Know isn’t always the biggest on PDA, but when you’re in pain? He’s all yours. He lets you stretch out on the couch, head resting on his lap as he absentmindedly strokes your hair. “Just sleep,” he murmurs, his fingers moving soothingly against your scalp. He won’t say it outright, but the way he lets you cling to him, the way he adjusts so you’re comfortable? Yeah, he’s not letting you go until you feel better.

-♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎-

‧ ୨ changbin ୧ ‧

The moment Changbin hears you groan in pain, he’s on high alert. He rushes to your side, eyes full of concern. “Where does it hurt? What do you need? Say the word, and I got you.” He won’t rest until he’s sure you’re comfortable, tucking a blanket around you and making sure you have everything—snacks, water, even his hoodie if you want it.

If you’re feeling sluggish and mopey, he’s not letting you sink into the sadness. “C’mon, let’s go for a short walk, just to get some air.” If you refuse, he flops onto the couch next to you dramatically. “Fine, but at least let’s stretch a little.” He just wants to help you feel better, even if it means sitting there massaging your legs while making goofy faces.

He hates seeing you uncomfortable, so he’ll do anything to take your mind off the pain. He’ll put on a funny movie, tell you random stories, or even offer to do your skincare routine for you. “I’ve seen you do it a million times. How hard can it be?” (Spoiler: He gets way too into it, and you end up laughing at his concentrated expression.)

The second you lay down, Changbin immediately becomes your human pillow. He lets you rest on his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you. “You’re stuck with me now,” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His warmth, his scent, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—it’s all so comforting, you end up falling asleep in his arms, safe and loved.

-♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎-

‧ ୨ hyunjin ୧ ‧

If Hyunjin notices you're feeling off, he’ll instantly become the calm presence you need. He won’t rush to ask you a million questions, but he’ll quietly observe, sensing the shift in your mood. “You okay?” he’ll ask softly, his tone calm and gentle. Without making a fuss, he’ll grab your favorite blanket and wrap it around you, sitting close by, just quietly being there with you. Sometimes, he’ll rest his head on yours, offering his comfort through his presence alone.

When you’re feeling down or drained, Hyunjin knows that sometimes the best thing is a little peace and quiet. He’ll sit next to you, not demanding anything, just offering a steady, calming energy. He might gently stroke your arm or hair, his soft touch making you feel grounded. “I’m here, you don’t need to talk,” he’ll whisper, letting you know that just being near him is enough to help you relax.

Hyunjin has a way of bringing a calm vibe even in the quietest moments. If you’re feeling uncomfortable, he’ll quietly pull you into his arms, letting you rest your head on his chest. He’ll hum a soft tune, his voice low and soothing, creating a peaceful atmosphere that helps take your mind off any discomfort. “Just breathe, everything will be okay,” he’ll murmur, as you close your eyes, feeling safe in his embrace.

Even when he’s being calm and gentle, Hyunjin’s attention to you never wavers. If you mention cramps or feeling off, he’ll quietly get up to make you tea or get your favorite snacks, all without making it a big deal. When he returns, he’ll simply hand them to you with a small smile, his voice quiet but filled with care. “Here you go. Take it easy for now, okay?” His soft, caring nature always shines through in the simplest moments.

-♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎-

‧ ୨ han ୧ ‧

When Han notices you're feeling off, he’s the perfect mix of dramatic and calm. He’ll dramatically gasp and clutch his chest, “Noooo, not my baby,” but his soft, concerned gaze tells you he’s genuinely worried. He'll immediately get to work, grabbing your favorite snacks or a cozy blanket, all while maintaining that cool, quiet energy. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m here,” he’ll reassure you, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of sincerity that makes you feel safe.

If you're feeling overwhelmed, Han’s playfully dramatic side will come out to distract you. He’ll dramatically flop onto the couch beside you, letting out a huge sigh as if the whole world is crashing down. “The pain, the agony... I can’t bear to watch you suffer,” he’ll say, trying not to laugh as he gives you a playful look. He knows it’ll lighten your mood, and he’ll gently coax a smile out of you without being too much.

Though he’s playful, Han knows when to keep things quiet. He’ll sit next to you, quietly rubbing your back or running his fingers through your hair, his touch soft and steady. He won’t force conversation, just giving you the space to relax while still showing you that he’s there. “I’m right here… just rest, okay?” His calm, comforting presence wraps around you like a warm hug.

When you need comfort, Han’s sweetness comes out in the softest ways. He’ll pull you into his lap, his arms wrapped around you as he murmurs softly. “It’s okay, baby. Just sleep... I’ve got you.” He’s quiet, but his gentle touches and soothing words make you feel like everything’s going to be okay, even when the world feels like it’s spinning.

-♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎-

‧ ୨ felix ୧ ‧

Felix, being the sunshine he is, will first make sure you're absolutely comfortable. He’ll tiptoe around the room quietly, making sure to dim the lights, as he knows a soft atmosphere helps you feel better. He’ll gently ask, “Do you want me to play your favorite playlist? I know the soft songs help when you’re not feeling well.” He’ll make you feel like a priority, always quietly moving to cater to your needs without making you feel like a burden.

When you're feeling down, Felix has a very nurturing side that shines. He won’t just offer a quick solution; he’ll really dive into the comfort routine. “How about a warm bath? I’ll make it nice and relaxing, and we can watch a show after,” he’ll suggest with a gentle smile. He’s meticulous about the little things, running the bath at the perfect temperature, lighting a candle, and making sure the towels are soft and ready when you’re done. It’s all about making sure you feel pampered.

Felix might be the type to prepare a surprise snack for you, but in a subtle way. He won’t make a big deal out of it; he’ll just quietly come back with your favorite treat and a cup of tea, setting it beside you with a soft grin. “I thought you might need a little something,” he’ll say, offering the snack with a sense of quiet joy. He doesn’t need praise for it, he just loves to see you taken care of and happy, even in the smallest ways.

If you're feeling really bad, Felix will make sure you're completely relaxed in his presence. He won’t try to push you to talk, but rather let you know that he’s here for you. He might offer to play a gentle game or even suggest you both take a nap together, where he’ll wrap his arms around you to keep you warm. “I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry. Just let me know if you need anything,” he’ll say, his voice soft and full of sincerity. It’s all about offering that quiet, protective comfort that makes you feel like everything will be okay with him by your side.

-♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎-

‧ ୨ seungmin ୧ ‧

Seungmin isn’t the type to be overly dramatic or overly soft, but when he notices you’re uncomfortable, he steps up in his own way. Without saying much, he’ll disappear for a few minutes and return with a heating pad, a glass of water, and whatever snack he knows you like. He won’t make a big deal out of it, just setting everything beside you with a simple, “Here. Take this.” It’s his way of showing care without making you feel fussed over.

If he catches you whining about cramps or feeling miserable, he won’t sugarcoat things. “You act like you’re dying every month,” he’ll tease with a smirk, but the second you glare at him, he’s already adjusting your blanket and tucking you in. He’s playful, but he knows when to draw the line. After his teasing, he’ll sit next to you and absentmindedly rub your leg or hold your hand, quietly making sure you’re okay.

Seungmin’s love language during your period is distraction. He knows sitting around focusing on the pain won’t help, so he’ll casually toss you the TV remote. “Pick something to watch, and don’t make it something boring.” If you’re not up for a show, he’ll challenge you to a game on your phone, knowing that getting competitive will make you temporarily forget about how bad you’re feeling.

If you’re extra tired and just want to rest, Seungmin won’t be over-the-top affectionate, but he’ll stay close. He might sit on the floor beside the couch, scrolling on his phone, but every once in a while, he’ll check on you with a soft, “You still alive?” If you fall asleep, he won’t move, letting you rest peacefully while he stays right there—quietly looking after you in the most Seungmin way possible.

-♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎-

‧ ୨ jeongin ୧ ‧

Jeongin may not always know exactly what to do when you’re feeling bad, but he tries his best in his own thoughtful way. The first thing he does is pull out his phone and search for the best ways to help with cramps or discomfort. “Okay, so Google says heating pads and snacks help... I can do that!” He’ll rush off to get everything, sometimes bringing back a completely random snack just because he thought it might cheer you up.

If he sees you curled up in pain, he’ll frown and sit beside you, resting his chin on his hand while observing you closely. “You look like you’re about to cry,” he’ll say, a little too bluntly, before quickly adding, “Do you want me to make you laugh? I’ll do something really dumb if it helps.” He’ll start making weird faces or doing a terrible dance just to see you smile, his own laughter filling the room when he sees it working.

Jeongin’s way of comforting you is casual but sweet. He won’t always say much, but he’ll stay close, scrolling on his phone next to you or playing a game while occasionally glancing over. Every so often, he’ll nudge your arm and say, “You good?” If you mumble that you’re not, he’ll sigh dramatically and hand you his hoodie. “Here. Hoodies fix everything.”

If you’re feeling extra exhausted, Jeongin will get a little softer without making it obvious. He’ll let you rest your head on his lap while he plays with your hair, humming softly without even realizing it. When he notices you getting sleepier, he’ll whisper, “Just sleep, I’ll wake you up if anything happens.” His quiet, reassuring presence makes you feel safe, and though he might pretend he’s not doing anything special, he secretly loves taking care of you in these little ways.

(Click here to be added to my taglist!)

[hees-mine]

Camboy - L. Heeseung pt.2

Pairing: heeseung X reader!

Warnings: smut, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, cursing, sex toys, lube.

Genre: 18+, camboy.

WC: 2k+ read full story below⬇️ yall asked and I delivered part two of “camboy” after a year 💀

You are bored scrolling on your phone when a notification drops down on your screen from your favorite streamer, and you tap it immediately.

It felt like Deja vu. He was literally live yesterday, but you weren’t complaining. You could watch him every day, every waking moment of your life, and never get tired.

The app opens, but instead of a live video being displayed like you anticipated, it directs you to private messages, and your face morphs into one of confusion.

Evan Lee: Couldn’t help myself ;)

The text has you re-reading it over and over again. Could it really be that Evan, your favorite streaming/camboy, was messaging you?

You must be dreaming. While your hands shake and your heart pounds, a little text bubble appears on the bottom left of your screen, making your heart beat even faster, if that’s possible.

A video then suddenly appears, with the little play button showing up as the white circle around it loads. Once it's finished, you immediately tap the video, and the sight shocks you, to say the least. You gasp, covering your mouth with your free hand, as quiet moans flow through your phone's speakers.

“Fuck” you hear Evan’s groans while he pumps his cock with the fleshlight you had bought him. He speeds up his pace grunting softly before pulling out of the toy just in time to catch his cum shot. “Shit, fuck yeah” his dick twitches on his stomach, his cum spurting onto his abdomen. “Mmm,” breathing heavily, he swallows till the last of his cum drops from his tip and pools on his tan skin. “Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did,” he laughs breathlessly, dipping his index finger in his cum and then gripping his length and stroking it a few times, spreading it around and coating his dick in the aftermath of his orgasm. Once his dick softens fully, he ends the video.

Blinking blankly at the screen, you finally uncover your mouth, the realization of what just happened hitting you like a truck.

Did he really just send that to you? Before you could even get your hopes up or feel special about receiving a video from him, you assumed he just sent that to all his paid subscribers.

But at least he used the gift you gave him, and you definitely enjoyed it as much as he did.

After pressing send on the video, he cleaned himself up a bit, leaving his phone open in case you replied.

He wore his bottoms, discarding the dirty wipes into his trash bin. “Hmm,” chewing on his lip, he stared at the screen, and there was still no reply. Maybe you were just busy and didn’t see it yet. He turned off his phone, tossing it to the side so he could go shower.

After his shower, he recorded some paid snippets and updated his followers on when his next live will be and what they can look forward to. He checked his phone after about three hours, scrolling through a few notifications. None of them were important, just a few app notifications. He opened the app, streamed, and checked his notifications out of hundreds. None of them were you.

Had you even seen it yet were you at work did you see it and not think anything of it? But you joined his lives and bought him what he assumed was a pretty expensive gift so you must have liked him enough to have your notifications turned on right?

Turning off his phone, he sets it down on his desk. He doesn’t know why he feels so nervous. He literally streamed himself jerking off to hundreds of people, so why was he so anxious about sending a personalized video to you?

After the fourth hour passed, his nerves started to get the best of him, and he messages you again.

Evan Lee: Did you enjoy it, baby?

He sends it before he can overthink that, too.

A reply comes from you quickly this time, which he’s so thankful for.

You: Very much, Evan. I’m sure everyone else did, too ;)

Everyone else? What did you mean by that? Did you show that video to someone else? What?

Evan Lee: What do you mean by everyone?

He decides to ask to clear up the confusion, hoping you didn’t send that video that was meant for you and only for you to someone else.

You: Your subscribers

You responded confused now as well.

Evan Lee: What do you mean? I didn’t send that to everyone, just you as a thank you for, you know, the gift since I liked it so much

His face heats up. He can’t believe he’s actually texting you like this right now. He never thought he’d be interested in one of his followers, but you just seemed to capture his attention even if he was just going by text only.

Yeah, you must be dreaming. Well, at least it was a good dream.

You: “I’m flattered.”

He shifts his attention from his computer now that he’s got you online.

Evan Lee: Good baby, so did you do anything to that video?”

You blushed reading his text.

You: I haven’t 🤭

Evan Lee: Aww baby, you’re making me sad :(

You: Sorry

You reply, not sure what to say.

Evan Lee: I didn’t know you could resist my charm 😏

Truthfully speaking, you couldn’t.

Evan Lee: Since I made myself feel good, why don’t you do the same? After all, I made that video just for you.

Biting on his bottom lip, he sends a risky texts, awaiting your answer.

You: Are you sure?

Evan Lee: Positive baby, go ahead and touch yourself to my video

You: Now?😳

Evan Lee: Of course, sweetheart, why wait?

You: I don’t know

You nervously replied, still at a loss for words. You didn’t even know how this was happening.

Evan Lee: I’ll be here when you come back 😉

You left it at that, your heart racing in your chest as you scroll up and see the video. Your thumb hovers over it as you contemplate playing it without thinking about it too much. You press the play button, his moans filling your ears once again, and you get immersed in the video in seconds. The way he impatiently bucked his hips up into the toy had you wondering what it’d feel like if he fucked into you like that, and you could already feel your body getting warm and your pussy tingling with excitement.

With his words in mind, you slowly slip your hand down to your crotch beneath your blankets, circling your clit to the thought of him.

Before you knew it, you were coming undone together with him at the same time he did in the video.

The video was only about a minute long, but that’s apparently all it took for you to cream around your fingers, your moans mixing with his as your thumb caressed your clit and your fingers pumped inside your dripping hole. “Yes, Evan,” moaning, you throw your head back, sighing in pleasure, and writhing on your bed in the aftermath.

You: Thank you, Evan

You sent attaching a short clip of you pushing your fingers in and out of your wet pulsing hole.

He opened the notification, and now it was his turn to gasp and cover his mouth. “Fuck” he groans, eyes rolling back in his head.

Evan Lee: so wet, baby. Looks like you really enjoyed yourself

You: I did Evan. came so fast, imaging my fingers were your cock instead

You reply boldly.

Evan Lee: you’d like that, huh? Feeling my cock deep inside that little wet pussy

You: Yes, Evan, so bad

Evan Lee: You have no idea, baby. I’d take care of you so well, but for now, that’s all you get 😉

You: evan :(

Evan Lee: Join my stream tonight, and I’ll put on a show for you. I’ll cum just for you. It can be our little secret.

Before you could reply, the live notification popped up a red circle appearing around his profile picture, indicating he is now live.

You tapped it immediately, joining the stream, a faint smile on your lips as his voice greeted all his viewers.

“Hi, everyone. Thanks for joining my stream,” he smiles, waving to the camera as more viewers start to come in. “I had a lot of fun last stream, and apparently, so did you all,” he teasingly smirks, reading through some comments. “Take off my shirt?” He asks with a chuckle. “But I’ve only been live for like two seconds.” A ding goes off on his computer, showing a payment of fifty dollars, along with a message saying, please take it off. “Only cause you said please,” he laughs softly, lifting the shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. “Happy?” He said, running his fingers through his hair and intentionally flexing his bicep while doing so, giving the camera an innocent look like he was unaware of the subtle tease. “It’s a bit cold now. I wish I had someone to warm me up.” he looks into the camera lens, running his hand down his chest and stopping at the waistband of his pants. “Maybe we could do something together to keep us both warm.”

He slips his hand inside his pants, rubbing over his soft cock giving the viewers what they want. “Would you all like that?” He bites on his lip, leaning back on his chair and spreading his legs, leaving little to the imagination of what he’s doing under his pants. “You’ve been waiting all day for this?” He asks, reading through more comments. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Another donation comes in, along with another message. “Take everything off. Wow, you’re all more impatient than last time,” he laughs, standing up and pulling his trousers down to his ankles before sitting back in his chair, lazily stroking his cock till it grows hard, truth be told, he was a little impatient, too. He couldn’t wait to cum for you. “No one even asked about my day just wanted to jump straight into huh?” He teased and couldn’t help but laugh at the comments now flooding in, asking him about his day. “You guys are so cute, but I’m only teasing, enough about my day. I only wanna focus on you.” he looks at the camera, hand working up and down his hard length. “Bet you’re tired and need to relax. Don’t worry. We can play together and relieve all your stress.” he bucks his hips into his palm at a slow rhythm, looking over comments. “Touch yourself with me,” he whispers.

“You look so perfect.” his eyes don’t fail to catch the comment you left, and immediately, he starts jerking off faster, his toes digging into the carpet beneath his feet. “Fuck, you think I’m perfect?” he bites his bottom lip. “You’re even more perfect.” he throws his head back, hissing as his pace increases, the sound of his fist coming down on his balls with each stroke echoing in his quiet room.

He swallows harshly, veins popping on his forearms as he squeezes his eyes shut. Seconds away from cumming, his hand slows down right when he’s on the brink. His body sinks back into his chair as he lets go of his cock, letting it slap across his abdomen. “Shit” he rests his head on his chair, eyes lidded with arousal.

“Why’d you stop?” You muttered to yourself, anticipating the visual of him cumming.

“You were close? So early?” Chuckling at the comments, he took a few deep breaths to compose himself. “What would the fun be in cumming so soon?” He replied. “We still have the night to ourselves” he takes hold of his cock again, still sensitive from denying his previous orgasm. “Don’t you want to play with me longer?” He says, swiping the precum off his tip and rubbing it on his cock.

The sounds of more donations come in while he’s busy grabbing the bottle of lube you bought for him. He had it on his desk and ready to go.

Popping the cap open, he holds it over his tip, dropping an exaggerated amount of it on, squeezing more and more out till it pools around his full balls. “Feels so good” he starts stroking his sticky cock. The sounds every time he rubs his cock are so loud and lewd.

You squeeze your legs together, wetness flowing from your hole as you watch him touch himself.

“Ahh fuck” The slick glide the lube provides for him feels so good, so wet and sticky he just knows you’d feel even better and wetter. He closed his eyes, the sounds of comments and donations drowning out as he imagined the video you sent him. You were so wet and creamy just for him. “Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good” he fists his cock continuously, your image playing behind his eyelids. “You like that, huh? Taking my big dick deep in that little dripping pussy?” More desperate comments follow, but he’s too busy to read. The only thing he’s concerned with is cumming for you. “You feel so good, so tight and fucking wet,” he groans, stroking his lube-coated shaft. “Fuck, I'm close cum with me, sweetheart. I want to cum together, shit,” he breathes out, his hand moving up and down at a rapid pace, his body covered in a thin layer of sweat and his brows furrowed in pleasure. “That’s it, baby, cream on my dick while I cum in your pretty little pussy fuck fuck fuck, I’m cumming” his body shudders as long white thick ropes of pearly cum flow from his tip, coating his hand and leaking down to his full balls. “Oh s-shit baby,” he relaxes back in his chair, succumbing to the pleasure the image of you seared in his brain as cums endlessly.

Breathing heavily, he finally comes to, a breathless chuckle, leaving his lips as he strokes himself through his high. “I came so much,” he says, playing with it, scooping it up and covering his shaft while pumping out the last little dribbles of cum. “I’m still so fucking hard.”

He huffs out a breath, using his clean hand to rub his fingers through his damp hair. “Well….. that was amazing. I hope you all feel as good as I do.”

A multitude of comments come in thanking him, telling him how much they enjoyed the live and to cum again. “As much as I’d like to, I’m a mess” he looks down between his legs there’s a mess of cum and lube.

“Don’t go”

“Please stay.”

The comments of people wanting him to stay on stream were endless, but he had something a little different in mind.

“Next time, I will, I promise. Sorry for the abrupt ending, but I really need to clean up,” he laughs. “Thank you all for coming and for all the donations. I’ll make it up to you all next time. I love you all, goodnight.”

With zero shame he ends the live and instantly goes to your guy's shared chats together, messaging you right away. “Did you like it sweetheart?”

Groaning at his abrupt ending you exit out of the app only to tap the notification from him once it appears.

You: Of course, I just wish I could watch you longer.

He holds his cock that’s still hard and pulsing rubbing it up and down. Just your reply was getting him going again.

Evan Lee: I’m sorry, baby, but I’m still so hard, and I just needed to see you. I was imagining your pretty little pussy the whole time, but that’s not enough. I need more of you. I feel like I’m going to explode.

He types out with shaky hands. He doesn’t know why you’re getting him to feel this way, but he can’t help himself. His body is hot to the touch, he’s dripping sweat, and his balls are full of cum, ready to be released for you and only you.

He’s so desperate he doesn’t even let you reply before he’s requesting a video call with you.

You don’t even get a chance to reply or comprehend what’s happening; all you know is that Evan is calling you, and you were not going to decline his request.

“Hi baby, thank god you answered,” he breathes heavily, pointing the camera straight between his legs. “I’m so hard for you,” he whines, bucking his hips up and fucking the air. “I want you so bad,” he whispers, too horny and out of it to make sense of what’s happening.

“Evan,” you whispered, and the sound went straight to his twitching dick.

“Fuck baby, what’s your name? I wanna moan it when I cum for you” he grabs his cock, jerking it steady, and your breath hitched.

“Y-y-n,” you stutter out at the sight of him. You wish you could feel his dick in every last one of your holes. You needed him just as bad; he had no idea the effects he had on you.

“Y/n fuck, This feels so good,” he moans, stroking his cock. “Do you like it, sweetheart, like when I rub it for you?” He pumps his cock, thrusting his hips wildly.

“Yes, Evan, wish I could rub it for you,” you moan, lowering your hand back into your shorts.

“Oh god,” he sighs. “Me too, y/n.” Whimpering, he squeezed his base tightly and jerked it up and down. “I wanna fuck your pretty pussy so bad, fuck!”

“Oh Evan, I want that to more than anything, wish I could feel your cock stretching out my little pussy” you whine.

“Shit, I’d open you up so good fuck you with this big dick. You’d like it rough, yeah? Want my cock fuckin into you nice and deep and so fucking rough.”

“Yes,” you mewled, rubbing through your wet folds and sticking your fingers deep in your pussy, clenching around your digits as your thumb tickled your clit.

His deep, heavy breaths filled your ears, and he could hear your little whines of pleasure. “Yeah, touch that little cunt for me. Finger that wet fucking hole. Imagine that was me screwing that little pussy, baby” he strains, his heart pumping wildly in his chest, and this was better than any stream session.

“Oh yes, Evan, it feels so good,” you reply while keeping your right hand busy between your legs.

“I know, baby, I know,” he moans. “Wish I could see you. Please let me see you, fuck” he pleads, so horny and out of it he really wants to blame his feral ness on the fact he hasn’t had any in a while, but he knows deep down there’s something about you that’s driving him to his breaking point he feels like he’s going to go crazy.

In your arousal-hazed brain, you turn on your camera showing him your fingers shoved deep in your pussy covered in your wetness.

“Holy fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking pretty. Your pussy is perfect. I wanna suck your fingers clean, eat you out and fuck you so good, so deep, till you're moaning my name.”

“I want that too, so bad, my fingers aren’t enough, need your dick stuffing me full, need all my holes filled by you” You pressed your head into your pillows, leaning back, the warmth of your upcoming orgasm covering you like a blanket.

“Y-yn, I can't help it. I’m gonna cum” his head feels dizzy as he fondles himself. His mind is blank, nothing but the idea of you and cumming for you.

“Me too. I need to feel your cum inside me want you to fuck me full,” you breathe out, lost in pleasure as much as him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna give it to you,” he moans softly, his load as big as last time, if not bigger, his cum sprayed all over his abdomen and fist. “Cream on my dick, sweetheart, let go,” his voice sends you spiraling down a never-ending hole of pleasure, and you cum seconds after him screaming his name in pure ecstasy.

“Evan,” you whine his name, both of you sinking back into the comfort of your own beds.

“Y/n,” the only thing either of you can see is the faint pulsating of each other's genitals, the aftermath of everything finally settling in.

Heavy breaths fill up your guy's speakers, and neither of you says a word for a solid minute.

“I- um, I’m sorry for calling so late. I just- you know?” He laughs shyly, turning off his camera.

“N-no, it’s okay. I, too, was, you know?” Following suit, you turn off your camera after him.

Chuckling, he nods even though you can’t see him, and he can’t see you.

“So…. I guess I’ll let you go now,” he hums.

“Y-yeah, I guess so. Umm, goodnight, Evan,” you say, a little reluctant.

“Wait, maybe if you’re not busy, we can call again, not like this but just normally,” he says awkwardly and stands up, grabbing the waist of his pants, pulling them up, and tucking his soft cock away.

“O-oh, okay, that’s fine by me.” You smile from ear to ear at the thought of having a call with him tomorrow. You literally couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like a dream come true, and much like you, he can’t help but smile on the other line.

“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll call you again tomorrow, promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you say teasingly.

“Okay, goodnight, y/n. Thanks for tonight; I really enjoyed it,” he hums softly.

“I should be thanking you.” You both share a small laugh. You can hear the grogginess in his tone, and you’re sure he can hear it in yours as well. “Goodnight, Evan.”

“Bye, y/n,” he chirps, hanging up his phone, and he’s never been happier to be a camboy.

Link to my Patreon!

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!

[draftbeerbibi]

imagine mc and zayne get into a petty argument

zayne sees a large charge on his credit card at a grocery store

he goes home and sees that mc built a fortress out of carrots or like barricaded herself in the bedroom behind a wall of carrots

cue disappointed sigh :3c

Anon! Thank you so much for this idea, when I woke up and this was the first thing I read, it literally made me cackle out loud😂 I hope I did your idea justice💕

Fluff, established relationship

For the first time ever, you and your boyfriend had gotten into a fight.

He had gotten home late once again and you had worked overtime for too long. The fight was about nothing really, you knew he had duties as a doctor, like you had duties as a hunter but something inside you had snapped.

Part of you felt really bad, he looked haggard, the weight of his responsibilities pulling on his shoulders, but you felt neglected and wanted revenge. Though needing revenge, the part that felt bad for him gave him enough mercy to not sleep in the guest room but tucked in his arms. But the fight wasn’t over.

Not yet.

He had left for work again, while you had the day off. He had left a sticky note on the counter next to some breakfast.

I’m sorry i’ve been so busy my love, i’ll make it up to you. For now eat, i’ll see you tonight.

You stared at the note, contemplating if it was worth it. But frustration had been building, and you needed to get back at him. And just like that, a devious idea popped into your head. A grin spread across your face as you check your phone.

His card was in your phone wallet, he had given you permission to use it, and you had done so sparingly, never crossing boundaries, and being mindful of his hard work.

But not today.

You grab your keys and coat as you leave for the supermarket, smiling from ear to ear.

~~~

His phone buzzed while working on paperwork again. He pulled it out with a sigh, and his brows raise slightly when he sees a notification of not one, not two, but three supermarket trips. All of the payments were quite large, which was not something he was used to from you.

He shoots you a text, questioning what warranted 3 trips to 3 different supermarkets but before he could get an answer, he was whisked away to another emergency surgery. Seems like he was going to be late again.

~~~

You smile as you admire your handiwork. Carrots were on every surface of your house. The kitchen counter, the dining table, hell, even the chairs and the sofa weren’t spared. Any surface big enough for a carrot, did in fact have a carrot carefully displayed on it.

You may have gone a bit overboard though.

Carrots were on the bed, the bathroom sink. Even the bathtub was filled to the brim with carrots.

After looking around you felt kind of sheepish. You were sure this was going to take so incredibly long to clean up, but you didn’t get time to ponder it over long as you hear keys enter the lock.

You spin around as you make eye contact with your boyfriend.

He smiles as he sees you, but it falters just as fast as his eyes rake over your shared apartment.

He’s locked in place, shock evident on his handsome features. You smile as you see him curl his nose in disgust at the sight in front of him.

He sighs. Deep.

“My love, what is the meaning of this?” His fingers find the bridge of his nose, a clear sign of frustration.

You cross your arms as you huff.

“This is what you get for neglecting me.”

He stares at you in disbelief, and then to your surprise, he huffs out a laugh. He moves to you and embraces you tightly.

“Remind me to never upset you again.”

You chuckle as you wrap your arms around him tightly.

“I’ll write it down for you.”

He chuckles out another soft laugh and nuzzles his face into your neck.

“Please tell me you’ve thought of how to get rid of these carrots.” He mumbles, his breath tickling on your skin.

“I already have recipes for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” You can barely keep your voice straight as you tease him.

He immediately pulls back, holding you by your shoulders, and at seeing his distraught face you laugh.

“I was kidding you big baby, we can donate them.”

At that he physically deflates, relief washing over him.

“You’re impossible.” He chuckles. You laugh in agreement.

“You know you love me for it.”

And that he does.

[aliwritex]

ali, i have thoughts that i must share. thoughts on going shopping with isack's money for lingerie? like, he has no idea what you're buying, but you come home with a few sets. you'd make him do a fashion show, but he wouldn't be able to do anything untl he had seen all of them, and chosen his favorite to fuck you in. i'm just imagining him sitting in his desk chair, struggling not to touch you, dick throbbing in his pants, as you keep coming out in lacy little outfits to show him, twirling around.

yes yes YES!!!!

So let's isack had forgotten his wallet at your place, and you texted him about it, joking about how you were going to spend all his money. But he took it seriously, telling you could go on a little shopping spree. And after confirming multiple times it was okay, you thought of something that you would both enjoy.

Isack got the notification on his phone, two different stores but he couldn’t tell what they were, he only knew that they were expensive. So when he got to your place he had no idea what he was in for.

“Oh! What did you get?” he asked when he saw the big shopping bags in your living room.

“A gift for you,” you told him, then paused, “in a way. Grab them for me and come to the room, please?”

Just minutes later you were showing him the first set you bought. You started him off with a light blue set, lace in a pattern of leaves adorning the see through cups and the thong. You had sat him down on a chain in your room while you changed in the bathroom so when you walked out of the door he could see you.

He shifted immediately in the chair, spearing his legs as you walked towards him. He reached out to touch as soon as you got close enough.

“Nah! No touching, remember? You have to choose one first.” you pulled away and gave it a twirl, showing him the back. “This is option one. Wanna get a closer look of the back, too?” you teased, approaching him and arching your back so your ass sticks out.

“Putain” he swore under his breath “So fucking beautiful, my love”

“Got this one in mind already?” you asked and he just nodded.

Two sets later and he was losing his mind, cock rock hard in his pants as he just watched you show off thin laces and thongs that showed everything — but it was the last.

You knew Isack well enough to know what set he would pick so of course you saved that for last. It was a deep red set, thin mesh with floral embroidered details on the bra, matching panties and to finish it off a gatherer belt, holding up black stockings. You checked yourself in the mirror first, fluffing up your hair to give yourself a little confidence boost.

“Ready?” you asked, still behind the door.

“Please!” he begged, his reaction making you chuckle.

Then you walked out, making your way towards him one last time, swinging your hips as you did. Isack literally threw his head back, but quickly sat up straight, not wanting to miss a second of you in that.

“Putain de merde” he sighed, reaching out to grab your hips and pull you closer to him.

“I’m guessing you’re choosing this one?” you teased.

Isack just nodded, his face already so close to you that his nose brushed against your stomach – his breath making you shiver. He guided you to turn around, showing him the back. The sight made him groan, his mouth placing kisses down your back till he left a bite on your bare cheek. It made you jolt, and quickly turn back to face him.

“I’m glad you like your gifts” you joked, melting as his hands cupped your ass.

then he fucks you in every way possible, and when you’re done you joke: “After we go through the other three i’m getting crotchless ones, that will be easier”

“What do you mean crotchless?”

[ruewrote]

𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑦.

PAIRING: josh washington x actress!reader WARNINGS: no use of y/n GENRE: angst / fluff SONG INSPIRATION: i love you, im sorry by gracie abrams WORD COUNT: 9.7k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: does this make up for me being gone?

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

you had been waiting anxiously for a callback for the big film you’d auditioned for.

it was the kind of audition you left feeling half giddy, half sick to your stomach, replaying every line in your head like you were your own worst critic. was it good enough? did they notice the slight crack in your voice during the emotional scene? and why did you nervously laugh when they said, “thank you for coming in”?

every message and call since had you hurtling towards your phone. it was becoming a bit ridiculous, really. the first couple of days, it was exciting. you’d get a text notification and scramble to check it, only to be greeted by spam.

you’d sigh, deleting it quickly, before going back to refreshing your email.

this was a recurring thing, it was starting to piss you off.

the moment your phone buzzed, you almost tripped over your own feet to grab it. but there it was: the dreaded unknown number you’d seen three times today. you stared at the screen, feeling your heart deflate. “i don’t want to renew my car’s extended warranty!” you groaned into your pillow.

by day four, you were convinced your phone was mocking you. it sat there, silent, while you tried to distract yourself with literally anything. you started scrolling through social media, but every post was about someone else’s big break, and you found yourself glaring at your screen.

“oh, of course, you booked a role,” you muttered, jealously eyeing a friend’s celebratory post about a commercial gig. “good for you, toothpaste ad girl.”

you even tried taking a walk, thinking the universe might be kinder if you weren’t obsessing over it. the park definitely slowed your mind as you watched the ducks, glancing over to the family happily laughing about anything and everything.

it’s crazy the difference in your lives, but even though you didn’t know them, you wished for them to keep their happiness even with how you were feeling right now.

by the end of the week, you were practically glued to your phone, sitting at the edge of your couch. you’d made yourself a cup of tea to calm your nerves, but it had gone cold hours ago, untouched.

and then it happened.

your phone lit up, and this time, it wasn’t your mom or a scam call or a text about household essentials. it was your manager’s number flashing on the screen. you grabbed the phone, nearly dropping it in your haste.

“hello?!” you answered, a little too loudly. you winced, immediately trying to play it cool. “oh, i mean, hey! what’s up?”

there was a pause on the other end, the kind that had you holding your breath. then your manager’s voice crackled through, sounding oddly chipper.

“guess who just booked the role?”

you let out a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a squeak. “are you serious?! i got it?!”

“you got it!” your manager confirmed, laughing. “they loved your audition. said you brought a lot of… unique energy to the role.”

you frowned for a split second. unique energy? what did that even mean? but you didn’t have time to dwell on it because the excitement bubbling up inside you was too overwhelming. you started pacing back and forth, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“oh my god, oh my god!” you shouted, completely losing any semblance of chill. “this is huge! this is– wait, you’re not messing with me, right? because if this is a prank, i swear i will–”

“relax,” your manager interrupted, sounding amused. “i promise, it’s the real deal. bob washington’s production company called me directly. they want you on set next week.”

“bob washington?” you echoed, your eyes widening. “like… the bob washington? he’s producing it?”

your heart was thudding harshly in your chest. you nearly dropped the phone, switching it to your other hand as you ran a nervous hand through your hair. bob washington. legendary producer, hollywood royalty, and a man known for creating some of the most iconic films of the last decade.

“yup,” your manager confirmed, clearly revelling in your reaction. “they’re calling it his biggest project in years. high budget, a-list cast, the works. they wanted someone fresh and dynamic for your role, and, well... you knocked it out of the park.”

“oh my god,” you breathed out, sinking onto your couch. your legs felt like jelly, and you were pretty sure your pulse was now audible. “i can’t believe this is happening. i can’t– this is insane!”

“i know, right?” your manager agreed, sounding almost as excited as you. “this is the kind of project that could change everything for you. it’s going to be intense, but it’s exactly the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.”

you could hardly sit still, feeling like you might burst out of your skin from the rush of adrenaline. “okay, so… what happens next? do i need to do anything? when do i start?”

“calm down,” your manager laughed. “i’ll send over all the paperwork today, and you’ll need to sign off on it. but you’re officially set to start next week. first day is monday. they want you on set early for wardrobe and a quick read through.”

“monday?” you echoed, eyes widening. “that’s in, like, three days!”

“yup,” they replied casually. “showbiz waits for no one, especially when bob washington is at the helm. so take the weekend to get your head straight and be ready. oh, and maybe do some research on the other cast members. you’re going to be working with some big names.”

you nodded, even though they couldn’t see you, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “okay. okay, i can do this.”

“that’s the spirit,” your manager said, their tone turning a bit softer. “this is your big break. you’ve earned it. go get ready to blow everyone away.”

“thank you,” you managed to say, voice thick with emotion. “seriously. for everything.”

“don’t thank me yet,” your manager teased. “save it for after you’ve made it through the first week without fainting.”

you hung up, staring at your phone in disbelief. for a moment, you just sat there, letting the reality of it all sink in. you’d gotten the call. the role you’d dreamed of was yours and in a few short days, you’d be stepping onto a set unlike any you’d been on before.

your first day on set was a whirlwind, and calling it crazy would be a massive understatement.

you were beyond nervous, practically buzzing with a mix of excitement and fear. you’d changed your outfit at least five times that morning, scrutinising every detail as if your career depended on whether your shirt said “professional” or “i have no idea what i’m doing.” by the time you arrived, you were convinced they could see the nerves shaking through you.

but all your worries melted away the moment you stepped onto the lot. instead of the cold, judgmental stares you’d been bracing for, you were met with warm smiles and friendly greetings. the crew bustled around you, nodding and waving, making you feel like you were already part of the family. it was as if everyone had collectively decided that you belonged here, no questions asked.

“hey, you must be the new star!” a woman in a headset called out, grinning as she approached. “i’m sara, assistant director. welcome to the madness!”

you laughed, the tension easing just a bit. “that obvious, huh?”

“well, we did hear about you,” she replied with a wink. “bob’s been talking you up since the casting decision. he’s really excited about you joining the team.”

your stomach fluttered at the mention of bob washington. it felt surreal, knowing that a man of his status had taken notice of you. “i’m just hoping i don’t mess it up,” you admitted, trying to keep your smile steady.

“you won’t,” she said simply, squeezing your shoulder. “c’mon, let’s get you over to wardrobe. they want to do a final fitting before we start blocking your first scene.”

you nodded, following her through the maze of trailers and equipment. as you walked, you couldn’t help but take it all in. the towering sets, the clamour of voices, the scent of fresh coffee and sawdust hanging in the air. it felt like stepping into another world, one you’d only ever dreamed of being part of.

wardrobe was a flurry of fabric and pins, the team immediately setting upon you with expert hands, adjusting and perfecting your look. they chatted as they worked, making you laugh with their behind the scenes stories and gossip about past productions.

it was impossible not to feel at ease around them, and by the time they were done, you felt like you’d already made a few new friends.

stepping out of the trailer in your costume with a newfound confidence. taking a breath before meeting up with sara.

“looking good,” sara called over, giving you a thumbs-up. “ready for your first scene?”

you took a deep breath, the nerves settling into something steadier, like anticipation. “ready as i’ll ever be.”

“great! we’ll do a quick run through on set, and then we’ll start filming.”

you followed her to the soundstage, where the set was already in full swing. cameras were being adjusted, lights were positioned just so, and the director was deep in conversation with the cinematographer. the air buzzed with energy, and for a moment, you felt like a small cog in a very big machine.

but then bob washington himself appeared, striding across the set with purpose. he looked exactly as you’d imagined. a tall, silver-haired man with an aura of calm confidence, like he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it.

he spotted you instantly, breaking into a broad smile as he approached. “there she is!” he said warmly, extending a hand. “our newest star. i’m so glad you could join us.”

you shook his hand, hoping he couldn’t feel the slight tremble in your fingers. “thank you, mr. washington. this is… incredible. i’m really honoured to be here.”

“please, call me bob,” he insisted, waving away the formality. “and the honour is ours. i’ve got a good feeling about you, you’re exactly what this film needs.”

the praise made your cheeks heat up, and you couldn’t help but smile back. “i’ll do my best to live up to it.”

“i know you will,” he said confidently. “now, let’s get you into position. i want you to feel comfortable, so if you need anything, just let us know..”

as bob walked away to speak with the director, you took your place in front of the camera for the first time. the lights were hot, the crew was watching, and the nerves threatened to bubble up again. but then you remembered the way everyone had welcomed you, the genuine smiles, and bob’s encouraging words. you took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders back, settling into the moment.

“all right, everyone, quiet on set!” the director called out. “we’re ready for the first take.”

the set fell silent, and you felt the weight of it, the anticipation hanging in the air. you were about to speak your first line, to step into this role that you’d fought so hard for.

and for the first time all day, you didn’t feel nervous. you felt ready.

“action!” the director shouted.

it was the second week of filming when you first met josh. he strolled onto set with his dad, cutting through the chaos of cameras and crew with an easy confidence, like he’d done this a million times before. you hadn’t known what to expect, you’d heard people whisper. the washington name came with a lot of preconceived notions, but when he flashed that wide, boyish grin at you, all your assumptions melted away.

josh was nothing but lovely from the start. he introduced himself with a playful smirk and a handshake that lingered just a moment longer than necessary. “and you are?” he asked, his eyes bright with curiosity, like he already knew your name but wanted to hear you say it.

you gave it, trying to keep your own smile polite and professional, but it was hard not to be charmed by the way he looked at you. “nice to meet you, josh.”

“trust me,” he replied, leaning in slightly, voice dropping to a low whisper, “the pleasure’s all mine.”

from that moment on, josh was a regular presence on set, always finding his way over to where you were between takes. he’d crack jokes, compliment your performance, and offer you his hoodie whenever the chilly air left you shivering. 

it wasn’t exactly a secret that he liked you. it was there in the way he lit up when you entered a room, the way he leaned closer when he talked to you. he was flirty, sure, but never in a sleazy way. it was sweet, almost shy at times, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck that you just might be interested in him too.

one afternoon, you found yourself sitting together at the edge of the set, the sun dipping low behind the trees. most of the crew had wrapped for the day, the noise dying down to a soft murmur as everyone packed up. josh sat close enough that your knees were almost touching, a faint smirk on his lips as he handed you a coffee he’d picked up from the food truck.

“figured you might need a pick me up,” he said, eyes glinting with amusement. “you looked like you were about to fall asleep standing up during that last scene.”

you laughed, taking the cup from him gratefully. “wow, so i’m that obvious, huh?”

“only to someone who’s paying attention,” he teased, nudging your shoulder with his. he took a sip of his own drink, then glanced sideways at you, his expression softening. “you’ve been killing it, by the way. i know everyones been super impressed.”

you felt a blush rise to your cheeks, caught off guard by the compliment. “thanks, josh. that means a lot.”

he was quiet for a moment, watching you with a soft look in eyes. “you know,” he said slowly, like he was testing the waters, “i’ve never really seen someone fit in so quickly. it’s like you’ve been a part of this cast forever.”

“i could say the same about you,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “you’ve practically become one of us, and you’re not even in the movie.”

he chuckled, the sound low and warm. “yeah, well, maybe i just like hanging around you.”

there it was. that flirty charm that made your pulse quicken every time. you tried to play it cool, leaning back and giving him a teasing smile. “is that so?”

josh’s grin widened, but then he looked down, almost sheepish. “yeah,” he admitted softly, and for once, he didn’t sound like he was trying to impress you. it was just honest. “you’re different, you know? in a good way.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, a loud voice called out from across the set. “josh! we need you over here for a second!”

he sighed, rolling his eyes but standing up anyway. “duty calls,” he said, but before he walked away, he turned back to you, taking a small step closer. “let’s hang out after this. just us,” he suggested, his tone hopeful.

you couldn’t help but smile. “yeah,” you agreed, feeling a jolt of excitement you hadn’t felt in a long time. “i’d like that.”

josh’s smile was all teeth as he jogged off, giving you a quick wave before disappearing into the crowd. you watched him go. it was impossible not to feel something for him, the way he made you feel seen, special. you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too, or if it was just his natural charm.

by the time shooting was nearing its end, you’d formed the softest spot for josh. it wasn’t just the way he made you laugh or how he seemed to know exactly what to say to put you at ease.

it was the little routines you’d fallen into together, the kind that made it hard to imagine your days without him.

every morning, without fail, josh would show up at your trailer with your favourite drink in hand. he’d knock once and then let himself in with a bright, teasing grin. “good morning, beautiful,” 

it didn’t matter how tired you were or how early the call time was. he'd always bring a bit of sunshine with him, and you’d find yourself smiling back even on your worst days.

it started with his playful affection. at first, his hands would land on your shoulders as a joke, squeezing them dramatically like he was an over the top masseuse. “rough night?” he’d ask with a wink, his fingers digging into the knots from the long hours on set. 

but as the weeks went by, those joking massages turned into something more real. he’d work out the tension in your neck and back while the makeup artists did their work, his touch firm but gentle, the kind of attention that made you melt.

“careful, you’re going to put me out of a job,” one of the makeup artists would joke, glancing between the two of you with a knowing smile.

josh would just chuckle, his hands lingering a bit longer than necessary before he’d sigh dramatically when it was time for them to move on to your hair. “fine, fine,” he’d say, stepping back like he was truly reluctant to let you go. but then he’d slide into the chair beside you, threading his fingers through yours without a second thought, as if holding your hand was the most natural thing in the world.

he’d sit there contentedly, scrolling through his phone with his free hand, occasionally showing you a funny meme or a video he thought you’d like. he always had that wide smile on his lips, the kind that made it clear just how happy he was to be there with you. it was a kind of peace, a quiet connection that neither of you had to put into words.

you knew people noticed, and you didn’t mind. it was hard not to smile at the way he looked at you. the playful flirting had given way to something tender, something that felt a lot like the start of a relationship neither of you had fully acknowledged yet.

as your makeup artist stepped back and declared you camera ready, josh gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “you look amazing,” he said quietly, his voice low and sincere, all the teasing gone from his tone.

you turned to him, meeting his eyes. “thanks, josh,”

“i couldn’t have done it without my personal masseuse.”

he laughed, leaning closer so no one else could hear. “anytime,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “but, you know, you don’t have to wait until we’re on set for this kind of attention. we could... make it a regular thing.”

your eyes flicked up to meet his, and you saw it there. the unspoken question, the hope he was trying to play off as casual. you bit your lip to hide your smile, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting go.

“yeah,” you said softly, feeling the warmth bloom in your chest. “i’d like that.”

the last weeks of filming flew by in a blur, each day bleeding into the next. if you weren’t on set, you were out grabbing late night drinks and dinners with the cast or rehearsing lines together. it felt like you were constantly moving, your days filled with laughter. just pure fun with all your new friends..

well, most of them, anyway.

then there was olivia.

no matter how friendly you tried to be, it was like talking to a mirror. everything bounced back at you with a reflection of fake smiles and hollow laughter. she was sweet and bubbly when others were around, playing the role of best friend like it was written into her script. but the second you were alone, her expression would shift. like she couldn’t drop the mask fast enough.

you were in the middle of reapplying your lip gloss in the bathroom when the door swung open with a bang. olivia stormed in, her heels clicking sharply against the tile. she came to a stop beside you at the sink, her gaze briefly meeting yours in the mirror before she looked away, pulling out her compact and patted at her makeup.

for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of her rummaging through her purse and the muted thump of music coming from outside. you kept your focus on your own reflection, but you could feel her presence next to you, heavy and expectant, like she was waiting for something.

finally, jessica let out a huff, a tight, forced laugh that seemed to come out of nowhere. “you know,” she said, her tone as sugary as ever but dripping with something darker, “it’s funny.”

“what is?” you asked, capping your lip gloss and glancing over at her.

she leaned in closer, the smile on her lips so thin it looked painful. “how everyone is obsessed with you.” her voice was sharp, each word pointed like the edge of a knife. “it’s almost impressive, the way you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger. i mean, what’s your secret?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in her tone. “olivia, i’m not–”

“oh, spare me,” she snapped, dropping the sweet act entirely. her eyes narrowed, the fake friendliness dissolving. “don’t play innocent. you know exactly what you’re doing.”

a frown tugged at your lips, confusion mixing with a flicker of irritation. “i’m just here to do my job,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “if i’ve upset you somehow–”

“upset me?” jessica cut you off with a dry laugh, tilting her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “god, you really think you’re above it all, don’t you? just because everyone likes you right now doesn’t mean they always will.”

you took a step back, feeling the heat of her words. there it was. the real olivia, finally showing through the cracks of her perfect persona. “i’m not trying to compete with you, liv,” you said quietly. “we’re supposed to be a team.”

she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “oh, please. we both know this industry isn’t about teams. it’s about who shines the brightest. and right now, that’s you.” she snapped her compact shut and shoved it back into her bag with a sharp motion. “but don’t get too comfortable. you’re just the flavour of the month.”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. it would’ve been easy to snap back, to throw her own words in her face, but you knew that was exactly what she wanted. instead, you offered her a small, tight smile. “if that’s how you feel, then i’m sorry.”

her eyes flicked up to yours, a flicker of surprise flashing across her face before she quickly masked it. it was almost like she hadn’t expected you to be so calm, like she’d been gearing up for a fight you weren’t going to give her.

“whatever,” she muttered, but her voice was sharper now, laced with something bitter. she turned on her heel, strutting towards the door with a slow, almost mocking glance back over her shoulder. “enjoy this little fling with josh while you can,” she added, her tone practically dripping with disdain.

her smirk widening as she continued, voice dripping with bitterness. “he’s just being nice to you. it’s what he does– flirts a little, makes you feel good about yourself. you’re not the first girl to fall for it, and you definitely won’t be the last.”

you swallowed hard, but the sting was already spreading through your chest. it felt like she’d reached right in and found the one spot where you weren’t sure of yourself, digging her nails in just to see how much it would hurt.

“i give it a few weeks before he moves on to someone else,” jessica added, her tone almost singing now, like she was savouring the taste of the words. “i’m sure he’ll find another little pet project soon enough.”

she turned and strutted out, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving you standing there in the echoing silence. you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your hands gripping the edge of the sink so tightly your knuckles turned white. you tried to shake it off, to tell yourself that she was just being petty, but her words had landed right where they were meant to.

you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. maybe you weren’t special. maybe you were just another girl caught up in josh’s charm, another temporary distraction for him to play with before he got bored.

as you walked back out to rejoin the others, you felt the sliver of doubt she’d planted start to grow, worming its way deeper into your mind. you couldn’t shake it, her words playing on a loop, biting and bitter. 

you’re not the first girl to fall for it, and you definitely won’t be the last.

you stepped onto set and josh looked up immediately, his grin spreading across his face as soon as he caught your eye. it was like the whole room disappeared for him, like you were the only person he wanted to see. for a split second, you felt the warmth of it wash over you, the easy comfort you’d come to crave.

and then that sliver of doubt dug deeper, twisting painfully. you frowned, forcing yourself to look away as you made your way to where you were supposed to be, brushing him off without a word. you could feel his gaze follow you, his smile faltering, slipping away like he couldn’t quite understand what had changed.

i give it a few weeks before he moves on to someone else. 

olivia’s voice echoed in your mind, harsher now, louder. you clenched your jaw, eyes fixed on the ground as you took your mark. you didn’t dare look back at him, even as the silence stretched on and you knew he was still watching, trying to catch your eye.

you distanced yourself from him for the last few days of filming. it wasn’t something you planned, but every time you saw him, olivia’s words clawed their way back to the surface, sharp and jagged, cutting into whatever fragile hope you had left. 

you started to lock your trailer door in the mornings, sitting in the too quiet space with your heart pounding in your chest. your stylist team exchanged concerned looks behind your back, their hands moving a little more gently through your hair, as if they could sense the storm you were holding in.

the pain gnawed at you, raw and relentless. how could you be so stupid? you thought. of course this was how it would end. he was josh washington, the son of a hollywood icon, used to getting whatever he wanted. he could have anyone, and you’d been foolish enough to think you were different. that you were something more than a temporary distraction.

you were angry, but mostly at yourself. angry for letting your guard down, for believing that the way he treated you meant something real. it hurt in a way you hadn’t expected, a dull ache that pulsed through your chest every time you saw him across the room.

and when you did see him, he looked just as lost. his usual bright smile had dimmed, replaced with a soft, uncertain look that he reserved only for you, like he didn’t quite know what he’d done wrong but was desperate to fix it. you tried to avoid his eyes, but it was impossible. they always found you, pleading silently for you to come back, to talk to him, to let him in.

but you couldn’t. not now. not when you were convinced it had all been a lie.

on the final day of shooting, you pulled away from your friends as they gathered for one last photo, your throat tight with the effort of holding back tears. you forced yourself to look up, and there he was, standing across the room, watching you. the look on his face broke you a little more. a mixture of confusion, sadness, and something you couldn’t quite place, something that made you want to run to him and pull him close, even now.

he tried to give you a small, sad smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. it was like he was holding out an olive branch, unsure if you’d take it. your heart twisted painfully, the urge to just say screw it almost overwhelming.

you debated for a second, the weight of it all crashing down on you. then, you managed the briefest of smiles, a tiny, strained thing that faded almost as soon as it appeared. it was all you could give him. and when you turned to leave, there was a tug, a pull from you to him.

the door closed behind you, and you didn’t look back.

a year passed, and life moved on. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. you stayed in touch with the friends you’d made on set, the group chat still active. but it wasn’t the same, not without him.

you’d started to make a name for yourself in the industry, your social media blowing up when the announcement came that you’d be starring in a new film. the feedback was overwhelmingly positive, fans excited to see you. it should’ve felt like a triumph, something to celebrate, but every time you saw the comments or got a congratulatory message, there was a hollow ache you couldn’t shake. 

you tried to fill the void with dates. new people, new places. but none of them went past the first dinner or drinks. you laughed and made small talk, but it always felt forced, like you were going through the motions. you kept telling yourself it was because you were busy, too focused on your career to make time for anything serious.

but that wasn’t the truth, and you knew it. you missed him. you missed josh. the way he’d made you feel, the way you clicked from the very first moment. it was something you’d never had before and hadn’t found since, and it haunted you more than you wanted to admit. you hated how you left things, but the thought of facing him, of looking him in the eyes and seeing what hurt you caused. it terrified you.

you sighed, leaning back in the vanity chair as your makeup artist lined your lips with whatever product she was using. it felt good to be back in the routine of it all. you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the comfortable rhythm of the brushes, the gentle hum of conversation around you.

your playlist played quietly in the background, filling the silence with a mix of your favourite songs. and then, it shifted to something different, a song that made your chest tighten painfully. 

the one that used to play in his car, the one he’d sing along to, off-key and grinning as he’d turn up the volume just to make you laugh. you opened your eyes, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

the smile you’d been wearing slipped away, replaced by something softer, sadder. the makeup artist paused, noticing the change in your expression.

“you okay?” she asked gently, her hand hovering near your shoulder.

you forced a small, tight smile. “yeah,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m fine.”

but as the song played on, you realised just how untrue that was. you weren’t fine, and you hadn’t been since the moment you walked away from him.

there wasn’t time to dwell on it, not when the makeup artist was stepping back to admire her work, giving you a final nod of approval before you were whisked away to get dressed. you were guided behind a privacy screen where a small army of stylists and assistants waited with your gown. 

it was a process, the kind that required several hands, gentle tugs and tucks, and lots of patience. you held your arms up as they shimmied the dress up your body, the fabric whispering against your skin as it slid into place. it was stunning. a custom made one, of course. 

the bodice was sleek, hugging your curves in deep, midnight blue satin that seemed to shimmer under the light. it had a delicate sweetheart neckline, showing just the right amount of collarbone, and thin, elegant straps that wrapped around your shoulders.

as they adjusted the fit, you glanced down at the intricate beadwork that trailed from your waist, cascading into the full skirt like a waterfall of tiny, sparkling stars. the gown flowed out into a subtle train behind you, the kind that made you feel like you were gliding when you walked. it was a dress designed to make a statement, to turn heads and capture attention the second you stepped into the room.

but as they fluffed the layers and pinned a few final details, your mind drifted back to him. would he be there tonight? you hadn’t asked, too afraid of the answer. if he was there, would he even look at you? did he hate you now for leaving the way you did? and did you even want to see him, knowing it would bring back everything you’d tried so hard to bury?

the stylists stepped back, murmuring their approval, and you turned to face the mirror. for a moment, you barely recognized yourself. you looked beautiful, powerful even, like you belonged in the spotlight that was awaiting you.

you smoothed your hands over the satin fabric, taking a steadying breath. it was showtime. whatever happened tonight, whoever you might see, you needed to keep your head high.

“ready?” one of the assistants asked, offering you a bright smile as they held the door open.

you nodded, forcing a confident smile as you stepped out into the hall. “ready as i’ll ever be.” 

but as you made your way to the venue, the sound of your own heartbeat seemed to drown out everything else, a constant, pounding reminder that no matter how you looked on the outside, you were far from ready.

the second your heels touched the pavement, you were met with an explosion of blinding lights. flashes erupted from every angle, the paparazzi swarming you, desperate for the next big story. voices overlapped in a chaotic frenzy:

“look here! over your shoulder! who are you wearing tonight?”

you forced a smile, dazzling but rehearsed, turning slightly to give them a better angle as you adjusted the skirt of your gown. the cameras loved it, loved you. you could almost hear the clicks getting faster, the flashes coming quicker, and you knew by the looks on their faces that the photos would be everywhere tomorrow.

but your eyes weren’t on them; they were searching the crowd, scanning the sea of faces. you caught sight of your castmates just inside the venue, a familiar group gathered together in the warm light, posing for photos of their own. you watched as they laughed, their smiles wide and genuine. for a moment, you felt a pang of longing, you missed them, missed the easy camaraderie you’d once had.

you took a deep breath, lifting your chin a little higher as you made your way towards the entrance. the red carpet felt like it stretched on forever, every step heavy with the weight of anticipation. you could feel the eyes on you, not just from the photographers but from the crowd gathered behind the barriers. fans calling your name, reaching out with pens and posters. you waved, gave them that same bright smile, even as your stomach twisted into a knot.

you made your way over to the fans lined up along the barricade, the shouts of your name cutting through the noise. you couldn’t help but smile as you leaned in, reaching for the first outstretched poster.

“can you sign this?” a girl asked breathlessly, her eyes wide with excitement.

“of course,” you said warmly, scribbling your signature across the glossy paper before handing it back. you moved down the line, taking your time with each person, pausing to hold their hands and answer their rapid fire questions as best you could.

“what’s your favourite scene in the new movie?” someone yelled.

“can’t spoil it for you!” you teased, giving them a playful wink. “but you’ll love it, i promise.”

you paused when you saw a young teen, her cheeks wet with tears, clutching a phone case with your face on it. you knelt down a little, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with a gentle thumb.

“hey, you alright?” you asked softly, giving her a reassuring smile.

she nodded quickly, wiping her face with her sleeve. “i just… i can’t believe i’m meeting you.”

your heart melted a little at that. “well, i’m so glad you’re here,” you said sincerely. “you’re amazing. don’t forget that, okay?”

you hugged her quickly, the crowd erupting in cheers around you. when you pulled back, she was beaming, and it made the exhaustion you’d felt all day fade away. you moved on, taking selfies with everyone who asked, laughing and chatting. it was honestly one of the best parts of your night.

you took a deep breath, flashing one last smile at the crowd before stepping back. the fans waved and shouted their goodbyes, their faces lit up with joy, and you couldn’t help but feel the same joy in your own chest.

the red carpet felt endless beneath your feet, stretching out in front of you like a vivid trail leading you toward a thousand cameras, all flashing at once. it was chaos, but the good kind. the kind where you could almost feel the excitement buzzing in the air, like a collective anticipation. 

the energy of the crowd was contagious, and you couldn’t help but smile, soaking in the moment as you made your way down the carpet, exchanging waves and greetings with familiar faces. it was all about the premiere, of course, but for you, it felt more like a reunion of sorts. a chance to reconnect with old friends and colleagues you hadn’t seen in a while.

you hadn’t gone more than a few steps when a voice broke through the noise.

“look at you! killing it out here!” 

before you even had time to react, a warm hug pulled you in. ryan. a guy you’d worked with on a previous project, was grinning at you with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. he stepped back to give you a once over, then mock pouted. 

“you’re out here making me look like an amateur. you should’ve warned me.”

you chuckled, adjusting the hem of your dress as if it were the most dramatic thing in the world. “not true. you’re just not bringing enough sparkle to the table,” you teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

he raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down. “i’m just trying to keep up. but i gotta say– mission accomplished. you’re stealing the spotlight tonight.”

the photographer’s call broke through the banter, and with a flash of the cameras, you both struck a pose. you leaned in slightly, offering your best smiles as the clicking of the cameras. you could hear the photographer giving a quiet “perfect!” before they moved on to catch the next moment.

you gave him a quick wave and moved on, weaving through the throng of excited actors and industry folk, all basking in the glamour of the night. there was something intoxicating about it – the shared joy, the excitement, the way everyone seemed to be feeding off each other’s energy.

a few steps down, you spotted someone you didn’t know well but had met at industry events before. a woman whose laugh was as big as her personality. she waved as she caught sight of you, and before you could even offer a word of greeting, you were pulled into a warm, tight hug. 

“is this your first premiere?” she asked, her voice bright with curiosity.

you smiled, shrugging a little. “no, but i’m still kinda freaking out. there’s just something about the flashing lights that makes me feel a little claustrophobic,” you admitted with a laugh.

she grinned, understanding exactly what you meant. “it’s like being in a fishbowl for a night, right? everyone’s looking at you, but you’ve got to own it. let’s have some fun with it!”

the cameras around you both clicked as you posed together, flashes going off so quickly you could hardly keep up. there was no rush, no pressure. just laughter and the easy chemistry that made you feel at home in the chaos. after a few more shots, you thanked her and kept moving.

the next few minutes blurred together, more poses with more familiar faces. a guy you’d met once at a party last year, a rising star in a rom com who was just starting to get their break through, a selfie with someone who had appeared in an indie film you adored. 

it felt like an effortless stream of interactions, as if you were just hanging out with friends instead of being on a giant event.

but then, you noticed something. as you made your way down the carpet, the crowd around you seemed to dissipate. you didn’t know if it was your own sense of space or just the natural ebb of the event, but suddenly you found yourself alone. there was no one nearby, no familiar faces laughing or posing for pictures. just the sharp clicking of cameras and the hum of voices from the crowd. 

the realisation hit you like a wave, and with it came the creeping tide of anxiety. your heart began to beat a little faster, the flashing lights growing brighter, the eyes of the photographers turning into an overwhelming pressure. it wasn’t just the cameras. it was the sheer number of people, all of them looking at you, all of them waiting for something, expecting something. 

you tried to steady your breath, forcing yourself to smile through the nervous tightness that was starting to crawl up your chest. but it wasn’t working. the world seemed to be closing in, the noise around you getting louder, more suffocating. 

and just when you felt like you might lose it, a hand settled firmly on your waist. before you could process what was happening, you were gently spun into someone.

your hands landed against the solid expanse of their chest, you looked up, you met josh’s eyes, his face soft with concern, a quiet understanding in his gaze.

"hey,” he said, his voice low, cutting through the madness. “you okay?”

the world slowed. his presence was the grounding force you needed, the anchor that pulled you back from the edge of panic. you inhaled deeply, feeling your heart rate slowly return to normal, the suffocating weight of the moment lifting. 

“yeah...” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “i think i am now.”

you both turned back to the cameras, the bright flashes momentarily blinding you, but josh’s presence beside you grounded you. his hand, warm and firm around yours, tugged you gently, guiding you into a slow spin. the world around you seemed to slow as you turned, the cacophony of the red carpet fading into the background. 

“isn’t she so beautiful, ladies and gents?” josh’s voice rang out, effortlessly confident, the words slipping out like a natural compliment, as though it was the simplest truth in the world. 

all that was heard were cheers and whistles surrounding you.

you couldn’t help but laugh.  a genuine, startled laugh, the kind that bubbled up from deep inside you. the sound echoed around you, and it felt like the air cleared for just a moment, like the weight of the night lifted. you stumbled slightly, your feet shifting against the plush carpet, and found yourself falling back against him. 

his arms caught you instinctively, pulling you close. the warmth of his chest against your back, the steady pressure of his hand on your waist. you glanced up, meeting his gaze, and suddenly the world didn’t seem so big, it didn't feel so overwhelming. 

but josh’s eyes, dark and intent, told you everything without a single word. there was something there. something unspoken, a silent intensity that left you breathless. it was in the way he looked at you, the way his lips quirked into a small, almost shy smile, and the way his thumb traced slow circles on your skin. his hand never left you, his touch steady, grounding you in the middle of the chaos.

you could feel the pull between you, magnetic, undeniable. the longing was palpable, the unspoken words that hovered between you both. it wasn’t just the physical closeness, the way your bodies fit together so naturally, or the way his hands held you with such ease. it was the way his eyes never strayed from yours, like he was trying to convey everything that words couldn’t. 

in that moment, it was clear — everything you both needed was right here, in the quiet tension between a glance and a breath.

and for a fleeting second, you almost forgot about the cameras, the lights, the flashes. you almost forgot about everything and just stayed in that space, just the two of you, with the unsaid words hanging in the air.

it wasn’t long before you two made your way into the theater.

you followed josh inside. the world outside had momentarily faded away as the two of you found your seats, the lights dimming around you. the film was about to start, but there was no denying the tension between you.

as the opening credits rolled, you tried to focus on the screen, your own face staring back at you larger than life. it was surreal, seeing yourself up there, but despite the excitement, there was something else that kept drawing your attention away. josh. 

you could feel his presence beside you, warm and steady. his leg brushed against yours, sending a small jolt through you. the whole theater could’ve been empty, and you still would’ve been hyper aware of him. 

the movie played on, but you couldn't quite get lost in it. your heart raced, every subtle movement from josh had you second guessing your focus. his hand was now dangerously close to yours, just a few inches away. with every frame, your breath caught a little more, the anticipation mounting. 

ever so slowly, josh’s fingers inched toward yours. you held your breath, hoping it wouldn’t be too obvious. but as he grazed the back of your hand, a little shiver ran through you. you turned your palm up ever so slightly, just enough for him to get the hint. 

his fingers brushed against yours again, this time lingering for just a moment. your heart hammered in your chest, and you couldn't help the sly grin that tugged at the corner of your mouth. his eyes flicked over to you, a mischievous glint in them, before his hand fully settled in yours, fingers intertwining. 

you both glanced at each other, and for a moment, the world outside of that theater vanished. the film could have been playing a thousand scenes, and neither of you would have noticed. the only thing that mattered was the warmth of josh’s hand in yours, the way he squeezed it gently.

by the time the credits rolled and the lights came up, you both were still sitting close, your hands now very obviously intertwined. there was a satisfied, playful grin on both your faces, a mutual understanding of what had just happened between you, and neither of you could stop the little spark of joy that flickered in your chest. 

the crowd outside the theater had thinned, and there were only a few straggling onlookers left. the lack of paparazzi made the air feel lighter, more intimate. the flashing cameras, the constant eyes on you, had disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived, leaving only the steady presence of josh by your side. his hand was still firmly wrapped around yours, and though the world seemed to fall away, you couldn't help but feel the weight of all the whispered glances from the few people still lingering around.

you snuck a glance at him, and he caught it, his eyes meeting yours with a playful smile. you both walked in silence toward the exit, but the tension between you was thick. it wasn’t just the excitement from the night, or the high of seeing yourself on the big screen, it was something else. something you couldn’t quite name yet, but you felt it every time his fingers brushed against yours.

once you reached the parking lot, you turned to him. "do you want to come back to my place?" the words felt sudden, but they were honest. he raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips, but he didn’t hesitate.

"yeah, i'd like that," he said softly, his hand tightening around yours as you made your way to his car.

the drive was quiet but not uncomfortable. the radio hummed quietly in the background, but it was his presence that consumed your attention. every so often, you'd catch his eyes glancing at you, his face softening with a tenderness that made you feel both a little breathless. 

when you reached your apartment, he pulled up to the curb and parked, smoothly shifting into neutral. before you could reach for the door handle, he was already there, opening it for you. his fingers curled around the edge of the door. he offered you his hand, helping you out. it was such a casual thing, but it still managed to pull a smile out of you, the kind that you had to look away to hide.

he walked alongside you to your front door, his presence warm against the cool night air. he waited patiently, a step behind as you fished your keys from your bag. you could feel his eyes on you, attentive but soft, like he was memorising this small moment. the lock clicked, and you pushed the door open, stepping inside and feeling the rush of warmth against your skin.

he stepped inside, his focus shifting to the family photos on the walls as he moved with unhurried steps. the silence felt heavy now, filled only by the click of your heels across the floor as you set your handbag on the counter. you could hear the quiet scuff of his shoes as he followed, moving closer, the distance between you shrinking with every breath.

josh stood in front of you, his eyes softening as he took in the tension on your face. he could see it. the way your brows furrowed slightly, the way your lips were pressed together. the worry was evident, and it made him feel an unfamiliar ache in his chest. 

"hey," he said, his voice low and gentle, "what’s going on? you’ve been quiet ever since we got here." he took a small step closer, his eyes never leaving yours as if he was waiting for you to say something, anything. 

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat, trapped somewhere between confusion and guilt. what could you say? how could you explain the mess inside your head, the things that had been eating away at you for the past year?

you felt his presence growing stronger, like he was waiting for you to reach out, but you couldn’t. you didn’t know how to bridge the distance that had built up between you, even if it was only in your own heart. 

“i– i don’t know how to say this.” your voice cracked slightly, betraying the emotions you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel until now. 

josh tilted his head, concern deepening in his eyes. “you don’t have to explain anything if you’re not ready, but i'm here to listen if you are.” 

his words, that small gesture of understanding, only made the pressure in your chest tighten. the last year had been filled with silence, each day spent wondering if you’d made the wrong choice. and now, standing before him, feeling the warmth of his presence, you were finally forced to confront the truth. 

was it worth it to trust someone else's words over his?

“olivia said... she said some things about you. about us,” you began, your throat tight as you struggled to find the words. “i let her get into my head. and i chose to believe them. since i've seen past tabloids of you, and i just... i don’t know. it made me think maybe i was just another girl to you, josh. that i was nothing special.” the words were difficult to choke out, like each one took something from you.

you took a shaky breath, your voice thick with the emotion you’d been holding back for so long. “i know i should have talked to you, josh. i should’ve just asked you if it was true, if i was just another girl in a long line of flings. but i couldn’t bring myself to do it.” you looked down, your gaze fixed on the floor as you admitted the hardest part. “i was terrified. i was scared that if i asked, on the off chance that it was true, it would hurt even worse than believing the lie.”

josh’s expression shattered, he’d just realised how deep the wound went. he moved even closer, his hands sliding up to gently cradle your face, forcing you to look at him. “god, i hate that you felt that way,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “you should never have had to doubt us. i should’ve made sure you knew how much you meant to me. i’m so sorry.”

your chest tightened, a fresh wave of tears spilling over as you finally let yourself lean into his touch, the warmth of his palms grounding you in the moment. it was like he was trying to hold all the broken pieces of you together, the way his thumbs gently stroked your cheeks.

“i didn’t know,” you whispered, your voice raw. “i didn’t know if it was real, or if i was just something temporary for you.”

“it’s real,” josh said urgently, his forehead pressing against yours. “it’s always been real with you. and i should’ve done more to show you that. i’m here now, and i’m not letting go again.”

“i should’ve trusted you,” you whispered, the guilt bubbling to the surface. "but the way she said it, the way it all just seemed to line up... i thought maybe she was right. i thought maybe you were just... playing around." you swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “i didn’t know what to think anymore. and i pushed you away.”

josh’s hands slid to your shoulders, his grip gentle but firm. “i get why you felt that way, but i’m not like that. i never have been with you.” his voice dropped, becoming more vulnerable. “i’ve been falling for you this whole time. and i know i messed up.

i didn’t fight hard enough for us when i should’ve.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i should’ve told you how i felt. i shouldn’t have let you think i was anything like those guys. i’m not.”

you stood there, trying to process everything he was saying, the rawness in his words hitting you. the walls you had built around yourself started to crack, the defences you’d spent a year erecting finally starting to crumble in the face of his honesty. 

“i don’t want to be just another fling, josh,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “i need to know i mean something to you.”

“you do,” he said, his voice almost pleading now. “you mean everything to me.” his hands slid down your arms, holding onto you with a desperate kind of tenderness. “i’ve been stupid, letting this distance grow between us. i never stopped caring about you. and i’m sorry for not saying it sooner. i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this way.” 

the air between you was thick, almost stifling, as if every unsaid word hung there, waiting. your chest rose and fell, breaths coming a little faster than they should. he looked at you, searching your face like he was trying to find the right thing to say, but couldn’t.

for a second, you just stood there, both caught in that in between place, uncertain, but wanting more than you were willing to admit. you could see the way his gaze flickered, the way his hands hovered by his sides, like he was debating whether to reach for you.

you took the leap first, stepping into him and pressing your lips to his. the kiss was simple but real, like a question and an answer all at once. he exhaled against your mouth, almost a sigh of relief, and his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, like he’d been waiting for this as long as you had.

when you pulled back, the tension melted away, replaced by something softer, almost gentle. he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a quiet laugh, almost like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “i’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered.

you smiled, feeling the weight of everything you’d been carrying start to lift. “me too,” you admitted. “but no more excuses, okay?”

he nodded, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “no more excuses,” he promised.

and with that, you kissed him again, letting yourself fall into it.

trusting that this time, you’d both make it count.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[phoenixblaze1412]

Helloo, may I request dad dottore with a teenage daughter reader who accidently gets in contact with a gro0mer but feels way too scared to block him bc he knows already a lil bit too much abt the reader

(I'm literally dying srs😰)

Ah, I'm sorry anon please don't die😭..

The buzzing of your phone screen illuminated the dimly lit room. You stared at the name flashing across the screen—Jack.

A knot tightened in your stomach. You didn't want to answer, but ignoring him never ended well. Your fingers trembled as you hesitated, contemplating whether you should pretend to be asleep.

Another buzz. A message.

Jack: "Hey, sweetheart. Still up? Missed our chat today. Are you avoiding me? :("

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words press down on you. Jack was persistent. Too persistent. At first, it was innocent enough—just some guy you met online, friendly and charming. But as time went on, his messages became... different.

Jack: "You’re so special to me, you know that? No one understands you like I do. We should meet soon. I could take care of you."

Your heart pounded in your chest. He already knew too much—your school, the places you liked to go, your friends' names. You hadn’t told him directly, but he had his ways. The thought of blocking him terrified you. What if he got angry? What if he found you? The anxiety twisted your stomach until you felt sick.

From down the hall, you heard the faint sounds of movement—your father, Zandik whereas others know him as Dottore, working late as usual. The man you once feared as a child had become your greatest source of comfort. You hesitated before standing up, gripping your phone tightly as you padded down the hall.

“Dad?” you called out softly, pushing the door to his study open.

Zandik looked up from his work, his sharp crimson eyes softening slightly when he saw you. “What is it?” he asked, his voice void of impatience.

You shuffled inside, feeling the weight of your secret pressing against your chest. You didn’t want to burden him, but you also didn’t know what to do anymore.

“…There’s something I need to tell you.”

Zandik listened in silence as you explained, your words shaky as you recounted the past few months. His expression darkened with every word. By the time you finished, his jaw was clenched, and an eerie calm had settled over him.

“Show me the messages,” he said, voice cold, measured.

You hesitated but handed him your phone. He scrolled through the messages, his expression unreadable, but you could feel the fury radiating from him.

“This man,” he murmured, eyes flickering back up to meet yours. “He’s been manipulating you.”

“I-I didn’t mean for it to happen,” you whispered, shame creeping into your voice. “I thought he was just being nice at first—”

Zandik placed a hand on your shoulder, cutting off your self-blame immediately. “This isn’t your fault,” he stated firmly. “Predators like him prey on vulnerability. He will not hurt you.”

The weight of his words was comforting, but deep down, you knew that when Zandik said he will not hurt you, it meant something much darker.

“…What are you going to do?” you asked hesitantly.

Your father smiled, but there was no warmth in it. Only something cold. Calculated. Dangerous.

“Leave that to me.”

The next few days were unnervingly quiet. Jack’s messages continued, but Zandik had instructed you not to respond. Instead, he was doing something behind the scenes—something you weren’t privy to.

Then, one evening, your phone buzzed with a notification.

Jack: "Hey, something weird’s going on. Some guy's been asking about me. Do you know anything about this?"

Your breath hitched. You read the message again, your stomach twisting into knots.

“Dad…” you muttered, gripping your phone.

Zandik looked up from across the dinner table, his expression unreadable as he sipped his wine. “Yes?”

“…Jack just messaged me. He’s scared.”

A smirk curled at Zandik’s lips. “Good.”

You shivered. He wasn’t just doing background checks. He was hunting.

The next time Jack contacted you, it wasn’t through text—it was a desperate phone call.

You hesitated before answering, your heart pounding in your chest. “H-Hello?”

Jack’s voice was frantic. “You have to tell me if you said something to someone. This—this guy—he knows everything about me. He sent me pictures. My house, my job, my car—”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What…?”

“I don’t know who he is, but he’s dangerous. I—”

Click.

The call ended abruptly.

You stared at your phone in shock before slowly turning to your father, who was leaning back in his chair, watching you with amusement.

“…What did you do?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, resting his chin against his hand. “I simply had a chat with him.”

“A chat?”

Zandik’s smirk widened. “Yes. He won’t be bothering you anymore.”

You wanted to press for more details, but a part of you wasn’t sure you wanted to know.

And then, a new message appeared on your screen.

Jack: “Forget I ever existed. I’m sorry. Please don’t let him find me again.”

Your blood ran cold.

Jack was gone.

Your father had made sure of it.

That night, as you curled up in bed, a knock sounded at your door before it creaked open slightly. Zandik stepped inside, his usual air of intimidation softened slightly.

“You’re safe now,” he murmured.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you whispered, “Thank you.”

His lips curled into something almost affectionate as he reached out, brushing a hand over your head. “Sleep well, my dear. No one will ever hurt you while I’m here.”

[cameronspecial]

Let Me See It, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

Summary: Rafe never wants Y/N to not be able to do something she wants because of her financial situation.

A/N: This video is the inspiration.

Masterlist

Everyone knows Rafe Cameron is packing in his pants and his bank account. So Y/N isn’t blind to the money her now-boyfriend has. What is surprising to her once she starts dating the Cameron man is his complete willingness to give large amounts of his money to her. Not that she asks, he randomly sends her the money and will refuse to take it back whenever she tries to return it to him. He literally threatened once to stop eating if she didn’t take the money. However, it doesn’t stop her from trying to impede him from giving her the money. Rafe always finds a way though. Y/N is lying in his bed, reading a book for class while he is in the shower. Her phone on his bedside table buzzes every few minutes with a new notification and although she is annoyed by the sound, she is too lazy to turn it on Do Not Disturb. The sound of the continual stream of water coming from the shower head stops and out comes Rafe with only a towel around his waist. The drops of water slowly running down his smooth abs pull her attention from the page. Rafe catches her gaze and smirks to himself. The vibration from her phone causes wrinkles to form between his eyebrows. He raises a finger to point at the technology, “Let me see it, Angel. Please.” 

She doesn’t question his request. She has nothing to hide and she trusts he doesn’t have any malicious intent with wanting to see it. He probably wants to put it on DND or check the time. Y/N hands it over with her eyes returning to her book. With her phone in his hands, Rafe can now see who is blowing up his girlfriend’s phone. It’s her study group, which is comprised mostly of other male students. For some, this fact would bring jealousy to their partner, but Rafe feels secure in his relationship with Y/N and it also helps to know the reason why there aren’t a lot of women in the group is because Y/N’s other female friends are busy with work. What does get his emotions going is the actual messages of the group chat. 

Dinner at Greenleaf later tonight? One of the members of the group chat texts and it is followed by agreement from the other members. Rafe’s eyes find the blue bubble belonging to his girlfriend’s response. Sorry guys, I can’t. I have to start budgeting with tuition for next semester coming up. This breaks Rafe’s heart that his angel can’t go out with her friends because she needs to save money. Not being able to do something he wants to do because of money is something foreign to Rafe and he is determined to make sure Y/N doesn’t have to choose between what she wants to do and what she can afford. He grabs his phone from his desk, opening his bank app immediately. He sends an e-transfer to her and once he knows the text notification has gone through, he places her phone on her stomach. His hand yanks her book out of her hand. He tilts his head toward his dresser, where she keeps some spare clothes. “Get ready, you are going out to eat.” He struggles to not invite himself to the dinner, but he knows that it is healthy for them to have lives outside of their relationship. One of her eyebrows raised, “What are you talking about? I thought Topper wanted to try this recipe he found on TikTok.”

“He does. You aren’t going to be here for it because you are going to Greenleaf with the others.”

“Oh, Rafe, I already told them I couldn’t go. I have to start saving for tuition.”

“Check your phone,” he orders, flicking his chin to the phone on her stomach. She opens her phone to find the notification and shakes her head, “You have to stop sending me money, Rafe. I know how to budget and I can take care of myself.” “I know you can take care of yourself, Angel. But it’s not like you aren’t taking care of yourself if you take it. So put the money in your account and start getting ready before you are late,” he says, finally deciding it is time to get his own clothes on. She sighs and does as he orders. Her eyes widen at the number she sees. This is the largest sum of money he has ever sent her. “Rafe, ten thousand dollars! I’m not going to spend that much on dinner,” she argues, already making it her mission to send back ninety-nine percent of it. He shrugs, “It’s fine. Get whatever you want and you can pay for everyone else’s bill too. I also might have to get you to get me something in case Topper decides to go off-book with the recipe.” “Even if I got all that, it still wouldn’t break a thousand,” she persists. He takes her phone out of her hand and points at her clothes, “Don’t worry about it, Angel. Start getting ready. You don’t have to use all the money for dinner tonight. I’m only making sure you have enough money in case you need stuff for school or home or something.” 

Upon seeing the time, Y/N ceases the small argument and begins to change. She kisses Rafe once she has her clothes on, heading out the door with the exchange of I love yous. Y/N may have agreed to take the money and knows he wants her to spend it on her, yet it won’t stop her from getting the new ring she knows he has been eyeing for a while now. Just because Rafe’s love language is gift-giving, it doesn’t mean she can’t give something right back to him.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[spideysbruh]

Far Away

warnings- phone sex, masturbation, dirty talk, cursing. if i forgot anything let me know!

~~~~

Y/n and Timothée have a pretty healthy sex life. They have sex at least once a week, and that's not including oral (that's probably once a day… at least) 

So when Timothėe is away filming and Y/n is also away working, they get a little agitated.

Y/n just got to Los Angeles, and Timmy is still going to be away for another few weeks, they haven't seen each other in two months.

That's two months without each other, with nothing but their hands to keep them satisfied.

Y/n is in an Airbnb for the night, since she has a meeting tomorrow with her producer. She sighs as she lays on the bed and looks for a movie to watch before she goes to sleep.

She sees ‘Little Women’ and chuckles at that, deciding to play it. It is a good movie, it’s just a coincidence that her boyfriend is in it.

When Timothée pops up on the screen, she snaps a picture and sends it to him with the message- i miss you.

She sighs and locks her phone, he’s halfway across the world right now and probably in the midst of filming right now. He’s not responding any time soon.

But even with the time zones, they still talk every day, no matter how short the conversations are. There have been days where all they texted each other was ‘love you’ or a picture of something that they found funny.

Y/n keeps smiling whenever Laurie does something that she recognizes, her heart aching due to missing him. Towards the end of the movie, her phone dings, even with it being on do not disturb. Only one person does that to her, Timothée. She hums and checks the notification. He responded.

Maud’dib 🧡- stop. I don’t wanna cry right now :(

She laughs and reacts with ��haha’ to his message, replying- how’s it going over there?

He responds immediately

Maud’dib 🧡- good. missing you. on lunch right now for two hours. missing you. almost done, few more weeks left. did i mention that i miss you???

She giggles and her thumb hovers over the facetime button but she decides against it, he’s around other people, it’d probably be rude. She instead replies- i thought you didn’t wanna cry ? 😕

Maud’dib 🧡- ahhhhhhh 

She snorts at that, then another message pops up. 

Maud’dib 🧡- wyd right now?

She types- literally nothing. watching you yearn for Amy March rn.

Maud’dib 🧡- well now i’m yearning for you…

Her heart skips at that, it’s been so long. She’s masturbated, but it just wasn’t the same without him. She responds- hmmmmm you need help?

Maud’dib 🧡- fuck yes.

A Facetime from him pops up immediately and she quickly answers it, “Babyyyyy I miss you.” he whines, his face incredibly close to the camera as he pouts. 

“I miss you more, baby.” She replies.

“I haven’t touched myself in weeks.” He sighs. 

“Me either! I’ve tried, but it’s just not good enough.”

“We need each other, huh?” He smugly asks, smirking at her through the camera. She giggles and nods, sitting up in her bed. 

“I’m alone in my trailer, thinking about you… all of you.” The camera is moving around as he presumably unbuttons his pants.

She shoves her hand into her pants, sliding her finger between her folds, “Yeah? What about me?”

He hums, “How beautiful you look when you’re under me, bent over in front of me... and especially on top of me. Your pretty tits sit so perfectly right in front of my face.” He moans, spitting into his hand and then moving it off camera again.

“Fuck, Timmy. I miss how deep your fingers get inside of me.” She groans as she pushes two of her fingers inside her pussy.

He chuckles breathily, “All that guitar practice also helped… show me, baby.” the pet name makes her wetter, making it easier for her fingers to slide in and out.

She whines and pulls down her pants to below her knees before flipping the camera, showing her fingers in her leaking pussy.

His eyes roll back at the sight, “God fucking damn it, baby. You're gonna kill me. I miss that sweet little pussy so much.” 

She clenches around her fingers at his words, trying to imitate the way he curls his fingers inside of her. “Let me see you.” He simply says, which makes her moan.

She brushes against her g spot and whines as she flips the camera back to her, “Fuck, Timmy. Show me what you're doing.”

He flips his camera, his dick in his hand as he slides it up and down, also trying to replicate the way y/n usually does it. “I wish I was inside you so bad, babygirl. You're so fucking tight and warm. Always so wet for me.” He says through his moans, Y/ns hand speeds up along with his hand.

“God, I'm so fucking wet for you, my boy. I wish it was you inside me right now.” She whines as she rubs her clit, Timothée flips the camera back to his face, the camera shaking as he strokes his cock.

“Keep going, baby. I'm so close, fuck it's been so long.” He moans.

“I wish you were with me right now, Timothée. Leaving hickeys all over me and fucking me so hard I'm sore the next day.” They moan in unison as their hands get even faster.

“You're so fucking sexy, y/n/n. I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you the second I get home I swear to god.” He says through his heavy breaths.

“I can't wait.” She moans, “You have no idea how badly I need to cum around your cock, baby.”

“Yeah? I think about cumming on you every fucking day. You always look so pretty with my cum on your tummy. You're a fucking work of art.” He moans, “I'm gonna cum.”

“Me too.” She whines, “I wish I was there to lick it all up.” 

He groans at her words, “Say my name when you cum, babygirl.” 

She rubs her clit faster and cums while moaning his name, which throws him over the edge.

“Y/nnn.” He moans, his eyes shutting as his hand slows down, "God, we've gotta do that more often."

She hums, "We really do."

He looks off camera, “Fuck, I came all over my laptop.”

Y/n giggles as she pulls her fingers out, “We've all been there.” he laughs and shakes his head.

“I'm gonna cum all over you when I get home.” He promises, she can only see his forehead as he reaches for a tissue.

She blushes and licks her fingers, Timothées eyes come back into frame and widen at that, “You're naughty.” 

She blinks innocently at him, “What? I've gotta clean up, too.” She shrugs and lays back down.

He huffs, “That's too much. Officially too much, you're too fucking sexy. How did I get so lucky?” 

She giggles and admires him through the screen, “I wonder the same thing about you all the time.”

“You wonder how I got so lucky?”

She laughs, “Shut the fuck up.” he grins and his whole face comes back in frame.

“Ugh, I miss you bullying me so much.” He sighs, resting his head on his fist.

“Well, three more weeks and it's back to normal.” She giggles, turning to lay on her side, he smiles at her. “Can you stay on with me until I fall asleep?” She softly asks.

He nods, “Of course, my love. I'll just run some lines, okay? Quietly, I swear.” 

She smiles and sleepily nods, “Okay, baby.”

She sees him grab his script and smiles before shutting her eyes. Timothée admires her on his screen before turning back to his script, making notes here and there.

He stays on with her until he has to get back to filming, whispering a quick “Love you” to her before hanging up.

Y/n wakes up early the next day and sees that their facetime was a little over an hour and a half long, making her heart swell.

She sees a text from him, from right after the call ended.

Maud’dib 🧡- had to get back to set, my sweet girl. love you.

*

[escelia]

DP x DC PROMPT/FIC

Gotham Portal

(If you get the notif for this post like 2 days ago, no you didn't! I wasn't done yet! You were imagining things!)

Where the story takes place in Gotham instead of Amity Park, the Fentons having moved before the construction and testing of the Ghost portal due to the high saturation of ectoplasm in Gotham. So, Danny's accident ALSO happens in Gotham, except he has no support system at all.

Enter the Bats stage left!

Danny couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. His parents had uprooted their whole life to move to Gotham. They said they'd need all the ambient ectoplasm there for when they built their portal. Jazz had been thrilled! After all, Arkham was a shining beacon of mentally ill people, and Jazz was like a psychology moth to a flame; it would be the perfect place for her internship after college.

His parents had wasted no time assembling the portal from their blueprints in the basement of the run-down apartment building they'd bought outright just on the edge of Crime Alley, complete with the Ops Center parked right on top. They'd gutted the place and completely redone it before they moved in. (Danny had no idea when they accomplished that. Maybe they'd been planning it for a while and only thought to tell their children two weeks before moving day.) He was genuinely surprised the local vigilantes hadn't stopped by yet to ask questions.

But anyway, back to how he was royally screwed! He'd just wanted a cool picture for Sam and Tucker now that he'd moved away. His parents weren't home (they'd gone back to the hardware store after their last test), Jazz had stayed after school to try and butter up her new teachers by running a study group, and he'd been alone. He'd even followed all the safety precautions his parents had told him about! He'd put on the hazmat suit and tried not to touch anything. But he'd tripped.

Through the whirling of green and the static buzzing in his ears, he remembered screaming, though he hadn't recognized it as his own. Every nerve in his body was on fire, and he just wanted it to stop. Stop, please stop, why won't someone save me, please!

He woke up to the smell of burning flesh, but he woke up. He was okay! Disoriented, a little disgusted by the smell and throat a little raw, but okay!

At least he'd thought so at first.

He'd begun to... change colors? And float, he floated sometimes, too. But the most irritating of all was that he would go through things. Forks and glasses slipping, quite literally, right through his fingers.

He hadn't told his parents. He'd been fine, after all. A little shaken up, but they'd been so excited he'd gotten the portal to work, who was he to put a damper on the mood when he was fine?

That brought him to now, staring at the mirror in the school bathroom in horror. He'd fought his first real ghost that morning around breakfast. He'd kept it together fairly well, in his opinion. Got through three whole classes before making an excuse to the teacher, slipping off into the blessedly empty restroom.

He'd been getting better and better at controlling his form, and he transformed in front of the mirror, taking stock of his appearance.

Odd colored hair: check.

Bright glowing eyes: check.

Floaty hair: check.

Could walk through walls, disappear, and fly: check.

He raised his finger to his pulse point and felt... nothing.

"I died," he whispered to himself in shock. "I... died," he repeated, this time in despair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian Wayne was not usually one to keep tabs on his classmates. They weren't his friends, therefore he saw no point. However, the new kid, Daniel Fenton, had begun to act strange.

When Daniel Fenton enrolled in Gotham Academy it hadn't been anything special. He'd started the year a little last due to his family moving, but families moved for all sorts of reasons. He hadn't tried to immediately make friends with Damian like so many others had, much to his relief. But he hadn't tried to make friends with anyone else, either. Maybe he liked to be alone? It really wasn't his business.

But then the boy started getting skittish and clumsy. Clumsier than he had been when he started school. He'd developed a miniscule tremor in his left hand, so he'd probably sustained an injury. He began dropping things in Chemistry. So often, in fact, that he'd been banned from doing practical labs and was instead assigned extra book work.

If Damian had been anyone else, if he hadn't been raised by assassins or had his night work as Robin, he wouldn't have noticed. He wouldn't have followed Fenton to the bathroom under the guise of needing to see the school nurse for a headache. Perhaps if he were anyone else, Fenton might have noticed him following.

There was an alarming flash of light as Damian peered carefully around the corner. Fenton had changed forms. Something had happened to him.

"I died," he heard him say. Damian thought he was being dramatic until he watched him raise his fingers to his pulse point. His glowing eyes dilated in panic, and he repeated himself. He watched as his classmate, looking fragile and lost, curled in on himself floating in the air, and sobbed.

Damian didn't confront him that day. He watched, waited, and researched. He found the research of Dr's Fenton on ghosts and ectoplasm, most of which he was skeptical of up until actual ghosts started to torment them during patrols.

Ghosts were real, it appeared.

He also concluded that their findings on ectoplasmic entities being non-sentient and inherently malevolent was incorrect, having met the ghost of a little girl caught up in a rouge attack that killed her and her family.

Damian watched Daniel Fenton for about a week while he ditched class in a poorly hidden effort to fight and contain the ghosts that he and his family were having such a hard time dealing with. His father was even nearly considering contacting John Constantine, which was never his ideal solution. Damian had been rolling an idea around in his head for a while and he decided now would be the time to bring it up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner at the manor was more of a full table than Damian had expected. Not everyone was there, Jason's relationship with them was still a bit strained, so he was not in attendance, and neither was Stephanie. But Duke was home, and Dick was actually there early for patrol later. Tim was there, and so was Cass, so almost everyone.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat politely. "Father, I wish to recruit a new member."

The chatter around the room came to a halt, the clatter of silverware ceasing.

"What exactly do you mean, chum?" Bruce asked carefully.

"I have a classmate I believe would be a valuable asset in light of our trouble with ghosts recently. However, he has no training or support, so I'm asking for your assistance."

"Did... demon brat make a friend?" Tim asked bewildered and a little bit terrified.

"Tt. No, I've never even spoken to him." Damian rolled his eyes. "My classmate, Daniel Fenton, transferred to Gotham Academy about a month ago and started acting strange soon after. He came to school with a tremor and a Lichtenberg figure you can just barely see starting on his left hand and traveling up his arm. I believed he'd been in an accident, and my suspicions were proven when I saw him use meta abilities to ditch class and fight a ghost in the courtyard of the school. From my observations, they are newly acquired, but he has decent instincts and an inclination toward heroism. I believe it would be safer for everyone involved if we approached him first."

"What?" Tim muttered. Dick was smiling gently at him, though, as if he were doing something he was proud of.

"Do his parents know?" Duke asked. Damian scoffed.

"I highly doubt it."

"Wait, Fenton as in the ectobiologists?" Bruce asked. The ex-assassin nodded.

"And considering their research is not reflected in our own interactions with ghosts thus far, I do not believe we should tell them."

"Not safe?" Cass signed. Her brother shook his head.

"The abilities I've observed resemble that of a ghost. He even has an alternate ghostly form."

The implication that they'd be endangering him hung heavy in the air. They'd all seen the Fentons' research. It mostly consisted of theoretical analysis and blatant biases with a long list of proposed experiments they'd run if they ever caught one. They'd all agreed that the Fenton ghost hunters were not a viable option for their ghost problem, especially after seeing how they drove, which in itself nearly put them on the Bat's rogue list.

"We've been meaning to investigate the Fentons properly anyways," Dick pointed out.

Bruce attempted to massage a headache out of his temples. The stuff his kids stumbled into, really. But Damian was right. If his classmate was a new meta with no support, it was only a matter of time before the rogues zeroed in on him, and since his family lived there, he couldn't tell the kid to leave.

"I'm not saying yes just yet, but talk to him. Find out any more that you can."

"Of course, Father."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny finally felt like he was getting the hang of his ghost powers. He was pleasantly surprised, and also mildly horrified, that his parents' inventions actually worked on the ghosts he was now beginning to fight regularly. His favorite was by far the thermos, which did no ghost mutilating whatsoever.

He discovered he had a ghost sense and enhanced hearing and vision, which was cool and all, but now he could hear all the shitty things his classmates said about him behind his back. Which, rude! He didn't even talk to them, what did they have to be shitty about?

He also noticed that one of them, Damian Wayne, had been watching him. From what Danny had heard, Damian was the richest kid in school, a Wayne. Son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, to be exact. And his attitude reflected that. His standoffish, holier than thou rich guy attitude made Dash and Paulina look like they lived below the poverty line. Apparently, he generally didn't talk to anyone at school unless it pertained to class, so Danny saw no point in introducing himself.

That made it extra weird that Damian was following him.

It was right after lunch when a hiccup had a cold breath tumbling from his lips. He raised his hand and asked his teacher if he could use the restroom. He made his way to the bathroom on the other side of the building this time, hoping it would be too out of the way for Damian to follow. But soft rustling of his classmate's school uniform gave him away, no matter how imperceptible his footsteps were.

When he entered the restroom, he made his way to the sink instead, splashing some cold water on his face as Damian walked in behind him loudly as if announcing his presence.

"I know what you've been doing," he said confidently, crossing his arms and standing in front of the door so Danny couldn't leave.

"Oh, hey! Damian, right? I'm in most of your classes, but I don't think I've ever introduced myself. I'm-"

"Daniel Fenton, I know. You've been fighting ghosts." Damian had to give him at least a little credit; he'd become a great actor over the last week. Though, that probably had a lot to do with the fact that he probably didn't feel safe at home anymore.

"My parents are ghost hunters, but I don't think shooting a ghost in the face with a lipstick laser then running for my life counts as 'fighting ghosts'."

"Tt. You are lying."

"Dude, what are-?" Danny cut himself off when his words came with another misty breath. Crap! He'd taken too long!

The ghost of the day, an ugly, mutated, bird looking thing with claws at the ends of its wings and a full set of dangerous, pointed teeth, phased through the door behind Damian, poised to strike.

Without warning, Danny grabbed Damian's wrist and whipped him out of the way, throwing himself between the two. A green shield formed in front of him just as the bird slashed at them with one of its wings.

"Well, that's new," he said startled as the bird geared up for another attack.

Danny groaned at his miserable luck before throwing caution to the wind and transforming. He'd just have to force friendship upon one Damian Wayne in an attempt to keep him from telling anyone about his whole magical girl transformation. He tried to activate his shield again, but when nothing happened, he was flung across the room into the wall. God, this was embarrassing.

The next time the ghost tried to attack him, Damian yanked him aside in a dodge and bolted out of the bathroom with Danny in tow. He was dragged through the winding halls to one of the side exits of the school. In costume or not, Damian's priority was luring the ghost away from the other students.

"Hey, so uh, you won't say anything about this," he gestured wildly to himself, "will you?"

"Tt. Of course not, but I believe you have more important concerns at the moment."

“Right!” Danny patted at the sides of his hazmat suit. “Crap, I left my thermos in my locker!” He dodged another attack and retaliated with an ectoblast, trying to keep the ghost's attention off of Damian as much as possible.

"Your lunch? Really?" Damian shouted. Dang, Danny must have been doing a decent job if Damian had the spare time and attention to be exasperated with him.

"No! It's a containment device! Besides, ghosts are basically soup anyway!"

"Distract it," Damian instructed, "I'll retrieve the device." The boy took off. Danny had to wonder how he even knew where his locker was. The ghost tried to follow him, but Danny shot another blast at it.

"Hey ugly, auditioning to be one of Gotham's Birds? Sorry, but you don't really look the part." He had no idea if the creature could even understand him, but the way it turned to him and lunged again suggested it had done the trick. This time, his shield did work!

Danny could have cried tears of joy at finally having some consistency with it. The next few minutes of the fight felt like an eternity while he dodged and shot ectoblasts at it. The creature wasn't really that strong, and it didn't seem to have super dangerous abilities like some of the other ghosts he'd fought like Skulker or Technus. It ended up being a great opportunity to practice his new shield ability, actually. But he knew the longer he took, the more danger his classmates would be in.

The bird ghost slammed into his shield with a particularly vicious strike, slamming him into the ground and creating a small crater.

"Note to self, remember intangibility," Danny groaned.

In that moment he noticed a door opening on the school building. It was Damian! He was finally back with thermos in hand! Unfortunately, the other ghost noticed too.

"Oh no you don't!" Danny yelled, latching onto one of its feet as it tried to fly toward his classmate. He dug his fingers in hard and sunk into the ground partway to anchor himself.

"Big green button by the lid then the button immediately below it!"

Damian wasted no time popping the lid open and sucking the ghost into the device, the lid closing with a quiet pop. He had to admit, though the design was questionable, it was sturdy, light, and very clearly effective. He wondered if he could get away with sneaking off with this one to have drake examine later.

"That was some incredible timing, thanks." The ghostly form of his classmate floated over to him, taking the thermos from his hand. Damian did not pout.

"We should probably get out of here before the Fenton's show up." He could already hear the screech of tires and his dad's voice over the megaphone tearing through the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Don't worry honey, we'll catch that nasty ghost boy next time," Jack Fenton comforted his wife. True to form, the Fenton's had arrived to the scene late, and most of the damage to the school yard had been from their vehicle crashing into things upon their arrival. Parents had been called and classes ended for the day, which was how one Bruce Wayne found himself at Gotham Academy trying to help the teachers talk the two down from storming and searching the school.

His son was standing off to the side with one of his classmates. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, lanky frame; Bruce could have mistaken the child for one of his own, but looking between the hulking man in front of him and the kid standing next to Damian, the resemblance was obvious. That had to be Daniel Fenton, the meta his son had told him about. Which meant he'd been the one to deal with the ghost before anyone else had gotten there. The classmate Damian had suggested they recruit for his safety.

"Danno, did you see where that spook went? When I get my hands on him, I'll rip him apart molecule by molecule for even thinking of attacking your school!" Bruce saw Daniel's breath hitch with fear.

"Sorry, no. I was coming back from the bathroom when I saw him fighting another ghost through the window. I was scared so I hid," he lied, gripping his left wrist while he spoke.

Bruce was impressed. The boy's fear was real, and he used that to his advantage to really sell the lie to his parents. His heart ached for him. He couldn't imagine seeing any of his boys looking at him like that, with such fear and distrust.

"That's okay sweetie, we'll get him next time. We're just happy you're alright. Let's get you home," his mother comforted, though Bruce knew it wasn't very comforting at all.

"Yeah, we'll teach you to use the Fenton Bazooka," well that was horrifying, "that way next time you can just blast him!" Danny wanted literally anything else.

"Actually," Damian interrupted politely. "We were assigned a project in class earlier on the history of Gotham. As Daniel is relatively new to town, I offered to assist him with the assignment. Father, would it be acceptable for him to join us for dinner?"

Bruce would have been incredibly surprised his son was inviting someone over for dinner if he didn't see exactly what he was doing. Daniel wasn't safe at home. And he clearly wasn't comfortable with the way his parents spoke of the 'ghost boy'. If his defeated expression was anything to go by, it hadn't been the first time they'd said something like that, nor would it be the last.

"What do you think, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton? We'd love if Daniel could join us for dinner."

"Please, call us Maddie and Jack. That sounds wonderful Mr..."

"Wayne. Bruce Wayne, I'm Damian's father," he introduced. If the two recognized the name, they didn't show it. It worked out rather well in his favor.

"Mr. Wayne. If its not too much trouble, that would be wonderful. It's about time he made a new friend, he's been sulking since the move. Now, we have a ghost to catch!" Maddie planted a kiss on Danny's forehead, leaning her blaster on her shoulder as her and her husband made their way back to the homemade assault vehicle parked haphazardly on the lawn of the school.

"Be sure to call us if you plan on staying the night! We'll let Jazz know she doesn't have to worry about dinner for you! We love you, have fun sweetie!"

"Are they always like that?" Damian asked after the two had pulled away. How had those two even gotten their driver's license? It was truly abysmal, he dreaded the thought of anyone getting into a vehicle with them. And then there was the speed in which they'd dumped their son into their laps, even suggesting they'd be okay with him not coming home that night.

"They mean well, but yeah," Danny replied, heaving a sad and defeated sigh. "Thank you, by the way. For inviting me over, even if you didn't mean it. They can be a bit much."

"Clearly," Damian mused back.

Bruce watched the two interact and felt pride well up in his chest. Meeting the Fenton parents just once was enough to convince him that their son needed help, maybe even their daughter too. That Damian had taken the initiative to bring this to his attention, that he had stood up for Danny and offered his home as a sanctuary for him, made him so incredibly proud as a father. He wasn't as prickly with Danny the way he was with other people, even his own siblings. That was a very good thing indeed, considering it was looking more and more likely this would end with another adoption.

Maybe Clark was right, he did have an adoption problem.

[dragonsgf]

➵ 𓊆ᴍʏ sᴛᴀʀ𓊇

stalker Xavier au!

possessive behavior, obsession, jealousy,  a little spicy

[ #LoveandDeepspace #Xavier ]

Chapter 1

Xavier has always been a good friend to you. He was kind and polite, and he didn’t talk much, but the both of you always managed to keep the conversation going. Besides being colleagues at the Hunters Association, you two were also neighbors, so you spent a lot of time together, which, consequently, formed a closer bond between you and him.

You’ve considered Xavier one of your best friends for a while now. You started to talk more when you were on missions together, and a couple of months later, you were planning movie nights and picnics on days the color of the sky was bluer than his eyes. Since his apartment was directly above yours, you would visit each other almost every day to play video games or order takeout. Sometimes, Xavier would fall asleep on your couch while you two watched a movie, but he looked so peaceful when dreaming that you could never muster the courage to wake him up. You’ve talked to him once about it, saying that he didn’t have to leave and that he could stay the night, so that you two could have breakfast together in the morning.

“It’s ok, I can always come downstairs to have breakfast with you anyway,” Xavier responded mid-yawn. You didn’t want to insist too much because, for some reason, he didn’t feel comfortable staying the night. Once, you even asked him if your sofa was too uncomfortable to sleep on, but it was all in vain.

You two became so close that you gave each other the spare keys to your apartments in case of an emergency or if you just wanted to hang out: no one else had a spare key to your home, so this meant a lot to you. To be honest, you were glad Xavier was the one with it. You trusted him with your life - quite literally, since you were each other's partners in missions and he had saved you multiple times from a Wanderer that got too close.

You knew he would never betray your trust.

Since you’ve been doing extra hours that week, Captain Jenna let you go home earlier that day, and as you were walking home, you came across a civilian whom you had saved from a Wanderers’ attack a few weeks back: he was fully recovered now and seemed to be in good health. As you were walking, he stopped to greet you and thank you for saving him and his wife. It was nothing but a normal exchange of words with this stranger, whose name you didn’t even know. You must have been talking to him for no more than five minutes when suddenly your phone vibrated.

“Are U on Ur way home now? Its nice outside, we can chill on the balcony and enjoy the sun until dinner :)”

It was a text from Xavier. Odd. You hadn’t told him you were getting off work early. Your plan had been to swing by the bakery beneath your apartment, pick up a few snacks, and surprise him with a little impromptu picnic once you got home. You were sure of that - you hadn’t said a word to him about it. You pushed aside the confusion bubbling up and chalked it up to a possibility: maybe he’d heard something from Nero, Simone, or Tara. Though that in itself felt unlikely - Xavier never spent time with anyone from the association besides you. But maybe he was finally starting to open up… stepping out of his shell a little. Right?

When you got to your apartment complex, you texted Xavier saying that you’ll just take a quick shower, and when you were done, you would go immediately upstairs and meet him so you two could hang out. Before you got into the shower, you checked your phone. No response from Xavier, but beneath your text bubble you could see the word “read”. Xavier always replied to your texts, even just to say a simple “ok”, but maybe he was busy and couldn’t reply right now. 

At least, he knew you were home. 

After drying yourself and putting on clean clothes, you checked your phone again: no notifications from Xavier. As you opened the door of your bathroom, you heard commotion coming from your kitchen. The rattle of plates and cups could be heard, along with very soft footsteps, as if a 6-foot bunny was walking around the apartment. Your hunter’s gun wasn’t around: seriously, who takes a gun with them when showering? You looked around. What could be used to protect yourself? 

As you stepped outside the bathroom, holding your hairdryer like a baseball bat, you tiptoed your way to the corner that would lead to the kitchen. You smelled something. Was the intruder eating the food you just bought? Your mind was running in circles, but you had no time to spare. As you turned the corner, ready to attack whoever was in your house if needed, you immediately stopped as you saw a blonde-haired man moving the food from your kitchen counter to your balcony.

“Xavier?”

He stopped mid-step. Startled, your dear neighbor was in your house holding a tray with all the food you got with both of his hands. 

“Hi, sorry. I wanted to prepare a surprise for you.” 

He said, in a nervous laugh, a light red color tinting his ears. 

“I saw you arriving from my balcony before receiving your text. And you looked so exhausted, I wanted to do something special. I just thought I could be faster than you.”

“How did you know I brought food with me? You can’t see the bakery from your balcony.”

“You didn’t send me the text right away as you got here, so I figured you had something up your sleeve.”

He said, slowly making his way to your balcony to put down the tray.

All the worries left your body as you took a deep breath. It was just Xavier wanting to do something nice for you, and you couldn’t even get mad at him for scaring you when he had the most adorable, shy expression on his face. All you could do was let out a light giggle as you looked at him, since you caught him red-handed. 

Xavier was always very thoughtful with you, and you couldn’t help but notice the special attention he gave only to you. Maybe it was because you two were partners or neighbors. Whatever it was, you enjoyed it more than you liked to admit. 

You helped Xavier move the rest of the food and drinks to the balcony, as well as some pillows and blankets. After a day of work, this was all you needed (and wanted): a peaceful end to your day with someone you could just let your guard down.

Chapter 2

Since that day you encountered the civilian you had saved, you could feel a lingering presence everywhere you went. No, that’s a lie. You’ve felt this presence before, just not as regularly as you felt it now. It was starting to make you feel paranoid.

“It’s just the lack of sleep, calm down. Plus, you have your hunter’s gun; nothing can hurt you.”

This was what you told yourself. For weeks now, that’s what you kept repeating in your head on your way to work and back home, except on the days Xavier was with you. You felt safe around him, and maybe that feeling was just in your head because every time you were with Xavier, you didn’t feel the shadow creeping in the distance. But on the days you were walking alone, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. It’s not that you felt better at home, if you thought about it. Recently, you started to receive random letters mixed with the rest of your mail. These were short and printed out, and put inside a blank envelope. Yes, blank because neither your address nor the sender’s were ever on these.

The first one you got, you thought it was a prank. “Ill never let U go” was written on it. You found it weird, but with no idea of who it was from, all you could do was ignore it. Then, there was a second blank envelope in your mailbox three days later. It read: “Ive searched for U for so long, and I have finally found U, my star.” Alright, now this one made you feel unsettled. What did this mean? Who could have been searching for you?

“My star?”

You said out loud, surprised by how loud your voice sounded in the deep silence that was your apartment. Again, you decided to ignore it, but this time you kept this letter in a drawer. Something about it didn’t seem right, and you had a gut feeling you should keep hold of it, just in case. Several days had now passed, and you had the drawer filled with these anonymous letters. You told yourself you would look into these, but lately, you just didn’t have the time; the past few weeks, you were either fighting Wanderers or sleeping. 

It was a Tuesday morning when you arrived at the association, breathless. Lately, you started walking faster whenever you were alone, not that you meant to. You barely noticed the quickened pace until you reached your destination. It was pure instinct now. By this point, everyone at work had noticed how you always showed up with your lungs gasping for air. Still, you always had an excuse ready - your alarm didn’t go off, the subway was late, something or other. Thankfully, your coworkers had stopped asking. You were running out of believable lies.

It was a boring day at the association: there were no missions, just a pile of reports on top of your desk that you had been procrastinating on filing out for weeks. As you got to your seat, fanning your face with your hands as the sweat from almost running to work streamed down your face, you noticed a huge bouquet of blue Forget-Me-Not flowers. You stopped, alarmed, as you looked around the office.

“It was already here when I arrived, it looks like someone has a secret admirer!”

Nero said with a teasing tone in his voice. You shifted your gaze from him to the flowers, eyes wide open and mouth agape. Although you were sweating, you felt a chill run down your spine. You tried to say something, but you were still trying to catch your breath. There was a card attached to this unexpected gift.

“To my star. I hope U won’t ever forget me.”

“My star? Again?” you murmured. There was no signature. You flipped the card, but nothing, just the name of the flower shop. The handwriting didn’t tell you anything about who this could be from, but you recognized the writing style. Hesitant, you put the card inside your bag.

You nodded your head, trying to shake off your anxiety. 

“It’s from a civilian I saved a while ago. I ran into him the other day, he and his wife just want to thank me.”

You said, forcing a smile and trying to calm your trembling hands. Even if it was that man, you couldn’t deal with gossip at the moment about you having a secret admirer, you were already as stressed as one can be, and you needed to focus on today’s tasks. Plus, the man was married, you wouldn’t feed into this if it truly was him. But you knew it wasn’t him. You had no evidence, you just knew.

You stretched in your office chair as it was already lunchtime without you realizing it.  Although you had spent the whole morning sitting down filling out reports, your whole body was sore, as if you had just spent the last four hours fighting Wanderers.

You glanced out the window - the weather was beautiful that day, clear and inviting - so you decided to have lunch in the park near the association. Once there, you settled onto a bench, waiting for Tara to join you. Children darted across the grass in bursts of laughter, dogs chased each other in wide circles, and elderly couples basked in the warmth of the sun, hands intertwined and soft smiles. If only you could stay there all day, soaking in the peace, without a single care in the world.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of spring. As you opened your eyes, your heart almost jumped out of your chest. You could’ve sworn that you had just seen someone hiding behind a tree a couple of feet away from you: it was as fast as lightning, but you did see a tall, muscled figure moving. You swallowed your saliva; it was at this moment that you noticed how dry your mouth had gotten. Until now, you had managed to forget about all the nonsense that had been happening. You tried to ignore what you just saw, or what you thought you saw. But your eyes were fixated on the tree, waiting for any movement. Whoever it was had to step away and leave, right? 

But you were growing impatient. Without breaking eye contact with your target, you rose to your feet and slowly made your way toward the tree. You were exhausted - tense, on edge - but you needed to know. You had to prove to yourself that you weren’t imagining things. Steadying your breath, you stepped around the trunk, bracing yourself for whatever - or whoever - was waiting on the other side.

“Hey! Thank you for waiting for me. I was not expecting to take so long, but I reeaaallyy needed to finish my report on last week’s mission. Is everything ok?”

You looked behind you, Tara was walking in your direction, waving at you. No, not now. You turned around again, but there was nothing, or you should say no one, behind the tree. In disbelief, you almost lost your balance, making Tara reach for you. 

“Hey Tara. Sorry for the weird question, but on your way here, did you see someone behind this tree?”

Still grabbing your arm to keep you in place, Tara looked at you as if you had asked her if the sky was blue or if the grass was green.

“Uhhh, no. I didn’t see anyone. Why? Did you plan to meet with someone here?”

Chapter 3

Tara was the only one you’d confided in about the shadow that had been following you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your other friends - Xavier, for instance - but Tara had been the one to reach out. One day, she simply asked what was really going on. She mentioned how she, like everyone else, had noticed the deepening bags under your eyes. They all had - it was hard not to. Some of your peers even joked about it. But Tara saw more. She sensed it wasn’t just exhaustion or work stress. She knew something else was wrong. Thus, one day while the two of you were hanging out in your apartment, just the two of you, you told her everything. 

You opened up to her about the unease that had been gnawing at you - the constant feeling of being watched. How every time you got home, you compulsively checked that the front door, balcony, and windows were locked, sometimes more than once. You spoke of the sleepless nights, how your body tossed and turned as much as your restless mind. You told Tara about the anonymous letters that had started to show up, the bouquets delivered to your workplace like clockwork each week, and the strange morning ritual: how an employee from the bakery downstairs would hand you a coffee just before you left for work, always with the same message - someone had ordered it for you, a gift.

“And believe me, I’ve asked countless times if the employees know who this person is, and they always give me the same answer: this random person puts an envelope in the bakery’s mailbox with the order’s name and money inside saying to give it to the “hunter lady that leaves for work at seven forty in the morning”. Once, I asked one of the girls who works there if she could show me the letter if they still had it, but that didn’t do anything because it was a printed-out letter. She told me every letter was the same, I guess the person just prints out the same thing over and over again. And it has to be the same person who keeps sending me the letters and the bouquets because look at this.”

You got up, went to your room, and took out all the letters from your drawer as well as the stack of florist cards that always accompanied the Forget-Me-Nots. You held out both stacks of papers you had now in your hands. Then, from inside your bag, you took the letter that the employee in the coffee shop gave you this morning. You showed your friend who sat next to you how, although you couldn’t get any clues from the handwriting itself, they had to be from the same person by the way some words were spelled.

“See how they spell 'you' the same way? And how they never use any apostrophes? Plus, they call me ‘their star’. None of these help me figure out who this person is because almost everyone writes like this when they’re texting a friend, and no one ever called me ‘star’ before.

At first, I didn’t think much about the letters, but I kept asking myself why they didn’t even have my address written down. And then I figured it out. They don’t need to write down the address because this person puts them directly in my mailbox.”

You could feel yourself getting more agitated. You didn’t know what to do. A sense of claustrophobia was starting to become part of your day-to-day life by constantly feeling like you’re being watched. It wasn’t just paranoia anymore - it was persistent, like a shadow that never quite left, no matter how many lights you turned on. Every creak of the floorboards, every flicker in your peripheral vision, sent your heart racing. Even silence felt loud, oppressive. Your own home had begun to feel like a cage, the walls somehow closer than they used to be. You kept catching yourself glancing over your shoulder, expecting to see something there… but there never was. Just the chilling certainty that something - or someone - was always a step behind.

 Nothing was making sense. Who wants to get to you? Who was willing to give you this much attention? The dedication was commendable - unsettling, even. It wasn’t just a prank or some passing obsession. Everything had been calculated. Methodical. Someone had invested their time, effort, and precision. And for what? 

After an hour or so of throwing theories at each other, you and Tara decided it was best to talk to someone at the association who could help you decipher this mystery. Maybe they could see something in the letters that you two didn’t. Despite it all, Tara made sure you knew you had her support and that you would get to the bottom of this.

She left, and you were now alone in your apartment. At least, you should feel that you were alone. You were in the place where you should feel the safest. Nothing can hurt you inside your own home, right?

You were about the go check if you had locked the front door when the doorbell rang.

*Ding* 

Chapter 4

This startled you, and you hated how much it startled you. You were a hunter, and not just any random hunter; you were part of the Unicorn sector, who were rigorously selected by Captain Jenna and other higher-ups. Plus, you had been awarded as “hunter of the year” just a few months ago. You couldn’t let something as minuscule as a doorbell affect you this easily. That just couldn’t happen.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to glance at the peephole, but when you did, there was no one outside. How was there no one on the other side of your apartment door? The doorbell doesn’t ring by itself, and you were sure you heard it. 

As you were about to turn, suddenly two hands grabbed you. It was so fast you almost tripped, but a tight embrace held you in place. You felt one arm wrapped around your waist, the other around your chest. Whoever it was, was pressing your body against theirs. You could feel every heartbeat, every inhale and every exhale this person took. Your hunter’s instincts kicked in, you pushed them forward, making them flip over you, but instead of making them fall onto the ground, they landed on their feet. You were about to kick them when they blocked your movement, grabbing your foot. Raising their eyes at you, you finally saw who it was.

“Xavier?”

Your eyes must have been deceiving you. What was Xavier doing in your apartment? Wait, how was Xavier in your apartment if every door and window were locked?

He raised his hands, his big blue eyes looking at you as innocent as ever. 

“You didn’t answer your texts, I was worried about you.”

You knew that wasn’t the reason, or at least, the main reason why he was there.

“Explain yourself, Xavier. That reply won’t do.”

You had your wrists raised, ready to attack whenever. Your mind was running in circles, you were still trying to catch your breath, even if you had barely moved. Your heart was beating faster than ever before, a rush of adrenaline running through your veins. But Xavier was faster, before you realized he was behind you again, this time pressing you even tighter against himself, you could feel every inch of his body by how close you two were. You tried to get yourself free, fighting with all the strength you had, but to no avail. Xavier spun you around, pinning you against the wall. He grabbed both of your wrists, holding them above your head, one of his knees keeping you in place. Stuck between him and the wall, his forehead was against yours, your breaths mixing together. He was panting, his breath unstable, but, at the same time, Xavier looked as calm as ever. 

“Please behave. No need to attack me. Aren’t we supposed to be partners?”

He wasn’t looking at you, but you could see how his soft blue eyes, which you always compared to the clear blue skies of a warm spring day, the eyes that always looked at you like you were brighter than all the stars in the universe, were now looking at you with the hunger of a starving ocean where waves fight with the wind, a fight with no winners. 

Xavier looked at you like you were his next meal, like a famished carnivorous animal who’s been starving for months, days on end, looking for something to satiate his needs. But there was only one thing that could satisfy him. You.

Chapter 5

You and Xavier stayed in that position for a while, neither of you dared to move. You could feel the heat coming from his body, radiating in waves that made it hard to focus on anything else. The sweat running down his neck caught your eye, a single bead tracing the sharp line of his jaw before disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. His whole body was tense, muscles coiled beneath his skin like he was holding something back - barely using any force on you, yet every inch of him vibrating with restrained energy. 

“Xavier, what’s going on?”

Your voice was shaking, just as your whole body. Seeing Xavier like this was definitely something new - intense, unsettling, and something else you didn’t want to name just yet. His gaze flicked to yours, dark and unreadable, and it held you there. Not aggressively. Not even deliberately. Just… completely. Like he’d stepped into your space and taken the air with him. 

You could hear your own pulse now - fast, loud in your ears - and still, neither of you moved. It was like the moment itself had thickened, pulled tight around the edges. There was a current between you, humming quietly under the surface, electric and confusing. You weren’t sure if he was about to walk away or pull you closer. And honestly, you weren’t sure which would be more enticing. 

Amid the chaos of a million thoughts racing through both your minds, you laughed. It started as a small, involuntary giggle - something you’d been desperately trying to suppress since the moment Xavier first pulled you into him. But once it slipped out, there was no stopping it. The tension broke like a dam. You were laughing so hard that tears welled in your eyes, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. And every time you glanced at Xavier, his wide-eyed, bewildered expression frozen in a perfect mix of shock and concern, it only set you off again. It was absurd. It was cathartic. And for the first time in a while, it felt like relief. When you finally got a hold of yourself, a flicker of red poison could be seen in your eyes when looking at him, a smirk on your lips as the perfect accessory.

“Oh, please, Xavier. You really didn’t think I knew it was you from the beginning? You were so obvious with everything, I knew you wanted me to find out. I knew you felt a thrill inside you just thinking about it. That’s why I dragged it for so long, I wanted to make you wait. I wanted you desperate. And you fell right into my trap.”

Now it was Xavier who had agitation in his eyes. He stared at you as if your confession had short-circuited something in him, like he couldn’t quite process what you had just said. And seeing him like that - stunned, caught off guard - brought you a quiet simmering satisfaction. This was the moment you’d been waiting for.

Yes, he had been meticulous. Calculated. Always two steps ahead. But not as much as you. 

You’d known from the moment he appeared in your apartment, carefully arranging your balcony picnic, that something was off. You could feel it - the way everything was too deliberate, how he had the answers to your questions on the tip of his tongue, as if he had rehearsed them. You knew he’d been waiting. Watching. You knew he had been waiting for you to leave work, that he saw you talking to that civilian. That was why he texted, urging you to come home. You could almost picture it: the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers hovered over his phone, how he must have almost ran to you and pushed you away from that man who dared speak to you, look at you. You knew the reason he didn’t reply to the text you sent when you got home was because he was too impatient even to waste a second replying to it when he could just go and see you, be with you. 

Xavier never handled jealousy well. You noticed it every time - how his mood soured when another man spoke to you, how his eyes tracked you with an intensity that bordered on possessiveness. He could try to mask it with charm, with quiet restraint, but the truth always leaked through the cracks. And you knew, eventually, he would break. And he had.

You loved teasing Xavier. That’s all it was - or at least, that’s what you told yourself. There was something about his possessiveness that lit a spark in you, something that made your skin hum with anticipation. No one had ever been this clingy, this attentive, this obsessed - and you adored every second of it. That’s why you kept the letters. The cards that came with the flowers. Little mementos of his desperation. That’s why you kept accepting the coffee deliveries from the bakery downstairs, always smiling as you told the employees, “It’s from my friend Xavier,” just so the girls wouldn’t ask too many questions.

It was all part of the game. Like the drinks you planned with colleagues from the association - not because you craved the company, but because you wanted an excuse. A reason to flirt a little too much with some random guy, just enough to set Xavier off. You lived for that look on his face, the one that flared just before he’d drag you away and insist you “go home”. 

You knew exactly how to push his buttons. That’s why every time you and Xavier watched a movie on your days off, you’d pretend to fall asleep - just so you could rest your head on his shoulder. Every time, without fail, you’d feel the subtle shift in his body, the way he tensed, the way something in him quite literally grew from even the softest, most innocent contact. You always had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from giggling. 

God, it was adorable - how hard he tried to hide it. How impossible it was for him to pretend he didn’t feel exactly what you knew he did. 

Now that you were really looking at him, you had him exactly where you wanted - stunned and speechless. His grip on your wrists had loosened but you stayed in place, knowing exactly what that sight did to him. Your smirk was still in place. Even you couldn’t hide your satisfaction anymore, and the heat pooling between your legs was becoming impossible to ignore. Patience was running thin. 

“So…how does it feel to have the light shine on you, my star?”

[elohelaye]

“He did WHAT???”

college au

(written for fem reader but can be interpreted as whatever)

Atticus thinks you can do better

A/N: SHOUTOUT TO MY FRIEND THAT FIXXED MY GRAMMAR ISSUES ILY -

Atticus has a knack for finding patterns. Specifically, patterns involving you. One of these involves you and your "boyfriend" (a title that Atticus continues to resent along with the man) where you would come home from a date, beaming from ear to ear, then after 18 hours you would be obsessively checking your phone for a notification. It seems your boyfriend has you wrapped around his finger, showering you with just enough love to keep you around before ghosting you for up to a week.

“He should have replied by now…” you bite your nails, looking anxiously at the screen of your phone while tapping idly. Though Atticus hated him, he also hates your worrying.

“Do you have his location?”

“No, we trust each other!”

“….Awfully convenient for him…” he mutters, his head resting on the table’s cool surface, matching your own displeasure

The phone buzzed, lifting only one of the two’s spirits…

he’s busy rn girlie attached: 2 images 1 videos

Immediately both went slack jawed. Atticus took initiative and threw the phone toward the couch, not wanting you to see the picture his eyes caught a glimpse at when grabbing the phone. “That’s disgusting!”

“Why would anyone do that???”

“How could he do that to you???”

Atticus kept spewing phrases of disbelief and hovering around you while you stood there in shock.

He’s busy.

He’s. Busy.

Your body felt like it wasn’t yours, a chill creeping in with the feeling of nausea as your tongue grew heavy.

How long had he been cheating?

Why had he cheated?

Was it something you did?

Something you didn’t?

Something you should’ve done?

Atticus is still going on and on “- and that’s why he was never good enough for you in the first place! Look at you! You’re so- so smart and amazing and perfect and he looks like he’s a rat on the subway! You should have a guy that cares for you and doesn’t take you for granted!” he sat your shell-shocked self down at your desk as you question everything that you believed your relationship was. “But why would he-?” you try to speak but Atticus quickly interrupt you by putting a finger on your lips.

“Shhhhh don’t speak. You’re going through a very difficult time right now. I’ll restore your honor, as your roommate.” He talks to you like you’re a scared animal. His eyes are shining with a certain mischievous glimmer. “He won’t even know what hit em…I’ve been watching tae kwon do videos on TikTok….it’ll be a flawless victory!” he takes his finger off your lips to show his stances and kicks.

“…..Atticus you’re gonna be pounded. He literally benches thrice your weight.”

“No! He won’t even get to lay a finger on me!” And with that, Atticus storms off to teach your ex a thing or two.

…He’s cooked. He knows he’s cooked. But his ego is too inflated with the thought of being your knight in shining armor.

-

Atticus called you approximately 10 minutes after he “talked” with your ex. He was breathing heavily into the phones speaker and seemed to be running.

“BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING I WAS ABLE TO MAKE HIM BLEED- CAN YOU- CAN YOU UH- HE’S FAST- DAMN- CAN YOU OPEN THE DOOR???” Atticus pleads, sounding increasingly more scared with every word. You jump off your bed and open the door just in time for Atticus to run in and slam the door, heaving. Looking through the peephole, you see your angry bull of an ex with a bloody nose and bruised temple. He pounds the door in anger before storming away. Atticus is still wheezing on the floor, and you get a look at him. He has bruises all over his face, his lips are bleeding, and he’s hunched over grimacing.

You sit down in front of him, his watery eyes tugging at your heartstrings. “….Did your arm always bend like that?” You reach out to touch it but hesitate, not wanting to hurt him more.

Atticus lifted his arm and it dangled unnaturally “No, but at least I can’t feel it.” He tried to move it a bit before wincing.

“…..We’re getting you to the ER”

-

bonus!!!!

-

lol this was silly and fun

[collapsedglasshouses]

THIRTY MINUTES || Vinny Mauro x f!Reader

SUMMARY: A failed Valentine's Day and the will to be honest brought Y/n and Vinny together that evening.

WARNINGS: FLUFF, FLUFF, FLUFF, unrealistic cliché scenario, mentions of y/n's job, lmk if i missed something

A/N: This idea shot into my head while I was on the train on Valentine's Day, literally on my way to the MIW concert. I know this is corny but I really love it. Let me know what you think and enjoy!

MASTERLIST

The neon glow of the vending machine cast long shadows across the cold concrete of the train station platform, adding an almost eerie beauty to the empty space. It was late on Valentine’s Day, and the air was sharp with the kind of chill that sank straight to the bone - a cruel reminder that love and loneliness often walked hand in hand.

Y/n sat alone on a run-down metal bench, shoulders hunched, fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of her dress. The dress that, just hours ago, had symbolized a night filled with romance. Now, under the hum of the station lights, it only served as a cruel contrast to the empty seat beside her. In her trembling grip, she held a single red rose. Its petals were beginning to wilt, curling inward as if they, too, had given up on the evening.

She kept glancing at her phone, eyes rimmed red from the effort of holding back tears. Every vibration sent a jolt of hope through her chest—maybe an apology, an explanation, something. But each time she checked, disappointment struck like a fresh wound. Nothing. Not a single message. The only thing greeting her was the notification that her train home had been delayed. It almost felt like fate itself was working against her.

A few paces away, the sound of heavy, unhurried footsteps disrupted the stillness. The person walking toward the bench wasn’t dressed for Valentine’s Day, or any special occasion at all, really—faded band hoodie, distressed black jeans, and a pair of worn-out Vans. He ran a hand through his hair, sending red-dyed strands falling back into his face before sighing. His train was delayed. All of them were.

Vinny’s gaze swept across the platform until it landed on her. There was no recognition, but something flickered between them—an unspoken understanding. Two people, both let down by the promises of the evening. Without hesitation, he walked over and sat down beside her on the bench.

“Rough night?” he asked, his voice calm but tinged with the kind of empathy that only came from experience.

Y/n turned to him, momentarily startled, then found herself smirking despite the ache in her chest. “Something like that.”

The overhead display flickered, announcing yet another delay. The earliest train arriving in 30 minutes. Vinny let out a dry chuckle. “I’m guessing you weren’t exactly met with roses and candlelight tonight?”

She snorted. “What gave it away?” Then, after a beat, she sighed. “I was supposed to have this perfect Valentine’s dinner. Instead, I got stood up. The waitress gave me this out of pity.” She held up the rose with a humorless chuckle. “What about you? What disaster landed you here?”

Vinny exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Had a big gig with my band tonight. A solid venue, a chance to make an impression—but everything that could go wrong did. Sound system failed, the whole energy tanked, and then, as if that wasn’t enough, my ex showed up. With her new guy.”

Y/n winced. “Oof. That’s rough.”

“Tell me about it.” He leaned back against the bench. “Total mayhem.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was the kind of quiet that comes when two people understand each other without needing to say much.

A cold breeze swept across the platform, making Y/n shiver. Vinny noticed immediately and, without a word, peeled off his hoodie, draping it over her shoulders.

She blinked up at him. “You really don’t have to—”

“Chivalry isn’t dead, you know? Can’t let you get dumped and be cold.” His smirk was playful, but there was genuine warmth behind it.

Y/n pulled the hoodie tighter around herself. It smelled like faded perfume.

“So,” Vinny started, tilting his head. “When you’re not getting ditched at train stations, what do you do?”

She laughed softly. “I work at a small publishing house. I help authors find their voice.”

Vinny considered that. “Sounds meaningful.”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “Other times, I wonder if I’m just watching other people live their stories while waiting for mine to start.”

He nodded slowly, as if the thought resonated deeper than expected. “That’s actually… kinda relatable. I mean, every time I play a gig, it feels like I’m trying to tell a story. But sometimes, I wonder if it’s just noise.”

Y/n tilted her head. “It’s not just noise. Even if it’s messy, it’s real.”

Vinny smiled at her, and something shifted between them. A quiet understanding. A shared feeling of being a little lost.

Then, she hesitated before blurting, “Can we do something stupid?”

Vinny raised a brow. “Stupid?”

“We have twenty minutes before our trains come. Let’s pretend we’re on a speed dating session. But instead of finding a date, we just… spill our guts. Every raw thought, every fear. No filters. Then, we part ways and never talk again.”

Vinny let out a surprised laugh. “Sounds more like speed therapy.” He studied her for a second before shrugging. “Fuck it. What do we have to lose?”

Y/n let out a breath, hugging his hoodie tighter. "Great, I’ll start. I’m scared—scared of getting too comfortable, of waiting forever for something better. I’m terrified that if I let someone in, I’ll end up alone again. I mean, look at me. Letting someone in kind of brought me here."

Vinny huffed, running a hand through his hair. "I know exactly what you mean. I’m scared of letting people see the real me. On stage, I’m that confident, high-energy guy, but when the lights go off… I worry that if someone really sees me, all they’ll notice are the cracks."

Y/n’s heart clenched. "Exactly. It feels like I’m always playing it safe, hiding behind the idea that something better is just around the corner. But sometimes, I wonder if I’m just too afraid to actually live my own story. You know?"

Vinny nodded, looking down at his hands. "I totally get that. Every time I’m behind the drums, I’m shouting out who I am. But then, once I’m off stage, I worry it’s all just noise. What if none of it really matters?"

Y/n leaned forward, eyes searching his. "YES! I help people find their voice at work, but sometimes I feel like I’ve lost mine. Like I’m just waiting for my story to start, but it never does because I’m too scared to take the lead."

Vinny let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. "You know, I’ve been running so long, chasing the next gig or the next thrill, that sometimes I forget what it means to just be still. It’s like I’m afraid that if I let someone in, I’ll lose the only thing that makes me feel alive—this constant rush of performing."

Y/n’s voice dropped to a whisper. "But isn’t it weird? I feel like in these quiet, messy moments, we’re actually alive. I mean, look at us - spilling our guts in a train station on Valentine’s night."

Vinny smiled, a real, unguarded smile. "It is kind of wild. I never expected to get this deep with someone tonight. But now that we’re here… I feel like I’m finally dropping the act. I don’t want to hide."

Y/n swallowed hard. "I’m with you. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay when I’m really not. Sometimes I’m so afraid of being vulnerable that I forget how much it might actually help me."

Vinny studied her for a moment, something shifting in his expression. "Exactly. It’s scary to let someone see you at your worst. But what if, by showing all our mess, we end up finding something real? Something worth holding onto?"

Y/n met his gaze, her heartbeat picking up. "I want that. I want to feel something real—even if it’s messy. I’m done waiting around for some perfect moment that never comes."

Vinny exhaled slowly. "Me too. I’m not just tired of the endless gigs and applause. Don’t get me wrong I appreciate every single person coming out to support us, but I’m tired of being alone. I want someone to see me, scars and all, and still stick around."

Y/n’s voice softened. "I get that. I’ve been so scared of not being enough that I hide behind my fears. But here, with you, I feel like I can be honest. Like I can really be seen."

Vinny’s voice was low, steady. "I’ve always believed the real magic happens when you drop all the pretenses. And tonight, to be completely honest with you, you’re making me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time."

Y/n blinked a couple of times, while she looked into his eyes. She knew exactly what he was talking about. She felt the exact same way.

Then, a distant train announcement cut through the moment. Vinny glanced at the tracks. “That’s mine.”

Y/n’s stomach twisted. She hadn’t expected to feel this… drawn to him. “Yeah,” she said softly. “It is.”

He slowly got up from the place beside her. “I'm Vinny, by the way.”

“Y/n.” She muttered as he slowly walked away.

She watched him step towards the train that had just come to a stop. 

Her heart ached and even though she didn’t believe it, every piece of her screamed that it was fate to meet this guy.

The sound of sliding doors and distant footsteps filled the air. In that charged moment, Y/n’s heart pounded in defiance. 

Without thinking, she dropped the rose to the floor as she called out, “Vinny!” 

Time seemed to slow as he saw her sprinting toward the door he’d just walked through, their eyes locking in a way that drowned out everything else. And then, before he could even process it, she was there—closing the space between them, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that was both soft and urgent, like she was fighting against the inevitable goodbye.

I wasn't hesitant. It wasn’t cautious. It was real - tender and desperate and full of everything they had just shared. For those few stolen seconds, nothing else mattered. Just them. Just this. 

Vinny’s arms tightened around her, holding them steady as the world moved on around them. When they parted, a smirk formed on Vinny’s face and he murmured, “So much for our deal.”

“Screw the deal,” Y/n shot back, her voice steady—but the look in her eyes said everything. Before Vinny could say a word, she grabbed his face and kissed him, hard.

This wasn’t some soft, hesitant moment. This was real. Fierce. Like she was trying to make up for every second they’d wasted. Her fingers curled against his jaw, pulling him in, and he met her just as hungrily. His arms wrapped around her, one hand gripping her waist, the other sliding into her hair like he was afraid to let go.

Everything else—commuters, train doors, the world itself—just disappeared. It was just them, tangled up in something too big to name. Her lips parted just enough, the taste of her sending his pulse into overdrive. He could feel her breath mix with his, warm and uneven, as if she was as caught up in this as he was.

When they finally pulled back, foreheads touching, the train doors started to close. But instead of letting go, she just held on tighter—until, at the very last second, she made her choice.

In a final rush of boldness, as the doors were about to shut, she stepped onto Vinny’s train, choosing the unknown over a lonely goodbye.

TAGLIST:@measuredingold @cncohshit @circle-with-me @jilliemiw86 @justeli6 @sitkowski @exitwoundsx

[macheriezz]

“when will you ever choose me ?” (pt01)

> university au , (secret) admirer!junhui

> genre : angst (?) , fluff , slice of life

> synopsis : you’ve been best friends with him since childhood . he knows everything about you and you know everything about him . except for the fact that he literally loves you till death and is your secret admirer . but it seems like no matter how hard he tries — you just see him as your best friend .

reader is afab !

wc : 569

at first , it started out all as small little gifts once every week . you’d get chocolates of your favourite brand , cookies , your favourite cherry-flavoured smoothie from the university cafe and handwritten letters .

then you started getting bracelets , hairpins , cat keychains and handwritten letters every friday .

“oh another smoothie today ! i was so thirsty haha” you said as you put your laptop and bags down . you sat beside your best friend , junhui who has been with you since you guys were 07 years old . he knew everything about you , you knew everything about him . except for the fact that he has loved you since you guys were 13 . “your admirer must know you really well huh” he replied as you took a sip of the smoothie . just as you guys were chatting about life , your phone suddenly buzzed a notification .

“who’s that from ?” jun asked as you checked your phone . ‘wanna get lunch later ? you promised me yesterday about it’ . It was from seungcheol , the senior that you have been crushing on since the first day you stepped foot into this university . he was the first person to approach you and junhui when the both of you were super lost and let’s just say , you immediately fell for him .

junhui looked your happy expression , the way your lips curled up into a smile once you read the message . he was glad you were happy , but what about him ? “aaaaaa i’m so sorry i can’t have lunch with your best friends today TT” you apologised as you told jun you would follow him for lunch today . jun just nodded his head , hiding the pain as he told you it was okay and teased you saying “well then you need to follow me tomorrow!! promise me please ?” everytime jun does this , the way he puppy eyes you makes you immediately fall for it and makes you say yes automatically .

as your lectures were coming to an end before lunch , you started getting super happy and started yapping to junhui about cheol . every word you said made his heart shatter by bits , but it didn’t matter much to him as seeing you smile was much more important . i mean you wouldn’t fall for your best friend whom was technically also your childhood friend . it sounded too wrong , and jun knew his feelings towards you were wrong .

“bye junnie ill see you tomorrow !!” you said as you started packing and walking towards the place you and seungcheol decided to meet up at . jun just waved good bye and the moment he turned his back , the fake smile dropped and he started looking down at the floor while walking towards the cafe he was gonna meet up with soonyoung , wonwoo and minghao at . he turned on his phone and started going through his photo gallery , looking at old pictures of the both of you when you were still kids . he wishes that he could’ve paused time and go back to when everything between the both of you weren’t so one sided . he knew giving you gifts like a ‘secret admirer’ wasn’t the best choice .