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niningtori · 1 month ago

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the way we were before | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: you've been in love with beomgyu for as long as you've known him. deep down, you've always thought that he loved you, too; so when he tells you that he's engaged to another woman, you decide to break it all off after a nasty fight in which he shows you just how little you mean to him. a life-ending accident seems to put your feelings to rest, for good. just when you think it's all over, however, you awaken to a time before everything fell apart; and you're determined not to repeat the same mistakes. it's just that beomgyu can't seem to let you go.

genre: ANGST (literally so much angst it's not even funny), romance, second chance!au, rebirth!au, she falls first but he falls harder, possessive!beomgyu

warnings: mcd (and rebirth), somewhat graphic depictions of death/a corpse, suicidal thoughts, you can interpret a scene at the end as somewhat suggestive but not really

word count: 12.7k

notes: this work contains a lot of angst... and that's coming from ME. this might be too sad to the point of being corny but luckily i was born on the cob. don't be mean to me tho i'm going thru it rn. feedback also means the world 2 me <3

some things are a matter of course. for example, when you were initially paired with beomgyu for a project in your senior year of college, it was a matter of course to fall in love with him. supporting him morally and emotionally while he struggled throughout the rest of the year and well into his adult career? well, that was a matter of course, too. being with him every day, spending every spare second you had with the intention to make him happy, and giving up any concept of self-preservation in exchange for even a morsel of his affection? the answer doesn’t even need to be said. through it all, you’ve suspected that all of the intimacy that you’ve nurtured will inevitably end up with you two being together, of course.

you haven’t done any of it for the outcome. truly, you haven't. you make him happy simply because it makes you happy just to see him shine. he’s always been such a bright, sunny boy, and it’s always been enough just to be the one who helps maintain his true personality. it absolutely kills you to see him hurting, so it isn’t unusual to drop everything, be it work or social events, just to give him advice, give him comfort, or even just give him company. while he certainly doesn't show his affection towards you as profusely as you do to him, you know he cares about you. you can see it in the way he notices the little things about you, and in the way he listens to you with full attentiveness, even when you have nothing particularly interesting to tell him. when everyone talks over you, he tells you that he wants to hear what you have to say. and that’s enough.

with all of this in mind, you jump at his invitation to hang out at his apartment. he’s been a little distracted lately, cancelling plans together for reasons unknown. it’s been odd, to be sure, but you know he’ll tell you whatever’s been bothering him soon enough. he always does. you greet him with takeout from his favorite restaurant in tow as a surprise, and he takes it with that smile you love so damn much. he looks a little nervous, but happy, mostly, and you don’t have to wait for very long before he clears his throat and announces that he has something important to tell you.

you try not to get your hopes up, but who can blame you for feeling a hint of anticipation? maybe he’ll finally confess his feelings to you. maybe that’s why he’s been a little weird. naturally, since your mind is racing so much with romantic hypotheticals, of course it comes as a shock to you that he simply says, “i’m getting married.”

beomgyu, notorious for never even having the time nor interest to date around, is not only dating, but engaged. your jaw drops when he tells you that it all happened so quickly, he doesn’t even know how it unfolded. all he knows is that once he met her, a whirlwind romance swept him up, and just a few months have been more than enough for him to know that she’s the one. in fact, as he so fondly declares, he knew it from the very first moment he saw her at the dinner between the company you two work for and her own. the one where you were his “date”. you knew that it wasn’t a real proclamation of love or affection for him to ask you to accompany him, but you can’t say that you weren’t beaming with pride and validation at you being his natural choice. when you arrived at the dinner, you remember some of your coworkers jokingly whispering to you to just make it official already. you spent the night mostly by his side, looking up at him in admiration and love. as it turns out, the time you spent fawning over him was equally spent with him falling in love at first sight with another woman. you weren’t even apart for very long, but apparently he met her when you two broke apart to mingle.

it’s a kick in the chest, to put it bluntly. you feel the wind being knocked out of your lungs, and you’re struggling to breathe. the first time you caught a glimpse of him, you knew that any attempts to stop yourself from falling in love with him were hopeless. his smile, his charm, his playfulness immediately had you enraptured. you’ve always, always known that he didn't have a similar experience with you, but you just assumed that he simply isn’t the type to be caught up in such childish romanticism. you've always loved him outwardly and persistently, and you've shown him that in every single way you possibly know how. you dared to hope that maybe he was just the type to quietly reciprocate. obviously, with how emphatically he’s professing his love for another woman, you were very, very wrong.

“what's the matter? aren't you happy for me?” you struggle to answer, but he continues as if he doesn’t notice. “you know, i was thinking you could be, like, my best man. i've seen people do it these days—you'd pretty much be my best woman. i really want you to do it. there's no one else i can think of to—well, actually, there's soobin, but you’re my—”

“beomgyu,” you sharply interrupt, wetness pooling in your waterlines. beomgyu may be a little emotionally slow, but he’s not stupid. you know he knows that you've had feelings for him since forever ago. while it hurts, the fact of them being unrequited isn't what really gets you; it’s the fact that he doesn’t have the decency to just tell the truth. he took advantage of your love for him, always calling for you when he needed you, without ever really doing the same for you. “what… what about us?”

“what about us? you’re my best friend, and i want you to be part of my wedding,” he says smoothly, but you level him with a watery stare. as if realization finally dawns on him, he replies in a way you sincerely did not anticipate.

“c’mon, you know i don’t see you like that,” he chuckles with a wave of his hand, and you really would’ve rathered him say literally anything else. you’d prefer it if he had just punched you in the stomach, actually, because that would feel considerably better than this… this humiliation. you’re silent for a moment before you feel the tears you’ve been struggling to keep in cascade down your face. to his credit, he has the decency to look uncomfortable, and his playful smile drops. before he can reply, however, you speak again.

“you knew how i felt about you this whole fucking time, you were just too much of a coward to be honest with me,“ you declare. “if… if you had just told me, i would’ve understood. i-i would've—you didn't have to do it this way.”

“listen, i’m sorry that you’re hurt, but i really didn’t mean—”

“are you really sorry that i’m hurt, or are you sorry that i showed you i’m hurt?” you cut in. “beomgyu, you don’t care about how i feel, just as long as you don’t have to be the one to deal with it.”

“i’m—you're being unfair. i didn't want to hurt your feelings, i just wanted us to stay friends. what's so bad about that? don't you want that?” he seems genuinely puzzled, as if he can't wrap his head around why you'd ever be indignant at the fact that he stayed friends with you mainly for his own comfort.

“jesus christ, beomgyu! a real friend would never do this. you kept me around so i’d keep helping you with work, with life, with what the fuck ever. why can't you just be honest, after all this time? just don’t lie,” you spit.

“i'm not lying! you've helped me a lot, and i'm grateful for that, but you can't expect me to just owe you my feelings,” he snaps.

“that's not what this is about, and you know it,” you tremblingly reply, dignity cut right to the bone.

“seriously? that's exactly what this is about. you're the altruistic angel who does nothing wrong, and i'm just a fucking scumbag who takes advantage of you, right? well, i'm sorry, but it's not my fault that you're acting so goddamn crazy over something so stupid.” your eyes burn with an intensity so great, it feels like they're being seared out of your skull. in this moment, you realize that he will never, ever respect you enough to consider you worthy of being leveled with. he doesn't think you're even worth the time. you're his silly, lovesick best friend who's absolutely delusional to the point of being laughable for suggesting that he actually take you seriously, for once. and that revelation breaks you like nothing else.

you won’t do this anymore. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, and you don’t.

“i never want to see you again,” you sob, and while it may seem juvenile to say, you truly mean it. before you can hear beomgyu reply, you dash out of the building and to your car.

everything is a blur when you peel out of the parking lot and onto the road. your eyes are pouring out thick, hot tears, and you try your best to swipe them away as soon as they come, but it’s difficult when they’re seemingly endless. you don’t even attempt to hold in your sobs—they’re far too deep and frequent for that. if someone were to glance at you through their window, they’d think you were absolutely insane. and maybe you are, you don’t know. maybe you’re insane for thinking that things could’ve ever been any different. maybe you were just imagining everything that seemed like confirmation that he loved you back. maybe it was all a delusion because you wanted it so fucking badly. and maybe that’s your fault.

but did he really have to crush you like this? he knew you were in in love with him. he knew you were waiting for him. he knew what he meant to you. why couldn’t he have just been honest instead of stringing you along? to ask for him to return your feelings would’ve been too much, you've always understood that to be the case; but even to the bitter end, he’ll call you crazy before he tells you the truth.

you try to keep yourself focused, but everything’s a blur with your eyes bleary with a film of tears. you have half a mind to just pull over and have a meltdown on the side of the road, but before you can do that, you hear your phone ringing. you pick it up in a frenzy, silently hoping that it’s beomgyu with an apology, but the number is unknown. you don’t even have time to feel disappointed before you look up and see that you’re barrelling past a red light. in a panic, you realize that you’re about to crash headfirst into another car. you swerve your steering wheel as hard as you can, seemingly avoiding danger, but the sight of a tree coming closer and closer into your vision paralyzes you with fear. you try to brake, but you’re going too quickly for it to be of any use.

the collision is bone-shattering in the literal sense. you’d think you’d feel adrenaline alone in such a situation, but you can feel pain bursting out of every cell of your body as you still after being thrown back and forth in your seat. every organ, every bone, feels like it’s just been crushed, and not for the first time today, you’re struggling to breathe.

as you slip out of consciousness, one immovable thought resounds in your head: i wish i'd never met him.

the sound of your alarm ringing pulls you out of the darkness. your eyes shoot open and you sit straight up in pure shock. while you pant—just trying to catch your breath—you grab your chest, clutching at your shirt as you feel your heart drumming erratically. did you survive? you scramble out of your bed and look in the mirror. there’s nothing on your face. no fresh wounds, bruises, no scars from what just happened. that can’t be right. you know you were torn up from the collision, and there’s no earthly way you came out of it unscathed. was it a dream? it can’t be; you can still feel the phantom of pain on every inch of you, even when there’s no indication of any material harm. you remember every second you spent before and after wrapping yourself around that tree. does that mean you’re dead? are you in the afterlife?

that doesn’t seem right, either. you don’t know much about what the afterlife is supposed to be like, if there’s even one at all, but this feels too real and familiar. you reach for your phone, with its alarm still blaring, and as you hit snooze, you notice the date. it’s just a few months before… before everything happened. did you go back in time? is that even possible? you try to reconcile yourself with that fact for a long, long time. so long, in fact, that you don't even realize you're supposed to be heading to work until it's five minutes after you're supposed to be there.

as if on cue, your phone rings with your boss’ contact displayed on the screen.

“hello,” he says as casually as anyone ever can. this just solidifies the idea that your accident must never have happened, because if it had, he certainly wouldn’t be greeting you as if it’s just another day.

“h-hey,” you attempt to reply, and your voice is so choked and thick with emotion, he can hear how badly you’re struggling to speak at all.

“is everything alright?” he asks, concern laced in his tone. that’s enough to make you break, and before you can stop it, you’re outright sobbing into the phone.

“i’m—i just—i don’t think i can come in today.” you fumble for an excuse, but it’s difficult to think straight as you feel your mind breaking down. “i, um, i—”

“hey, it’s okay. you can take the day off, alright? don’t worry about anything, just focus on feeling better.” his words, so comforting in nature, do nothing but make you cry even harder. it feels nice to be cared for like this. if you had the coherence to think so, you’d wonder how baffled he must be at your behavior. luckily, you’re far too gone to care. you think you end up stammering out something similar to a thank you, but you’re not quite sure. either way, the call ends, and you collapse onto your bed. you curl yourself up and tuck your knees to your chest as you grip yourself as tightly as you can. this is real. you’ve gone back. thank god, you’ve gone back.

you cry and cry until no more tears will come out, and while you try to keep yourself awake as the hours pass by, the relief you feel coalesces with the enticing nature of your soft bed, so you can't help but drift off. it’s different from the way you drifted off mere hours ago. it’s a lot warmer and kinder, and you're so, so fucking tired, you don’t even want to fight it anymore.

a knock on your door wakes you from your sleep. it’s a good thing, too, because you were having a nightmare. rejection, devastation, primal fear, mind-numbing pain, then total darkness repeated incessantly in your head for hours on end. you swipe away your tears, but they continue to flow as you practically drag yourself to your door. you’re so disoriented, you don’t even think to check to see who it is before opening it. what a mistake that turns out to be.

“hey! whoa—are you okay?” he asks, and who else could it be besides beomgyu? your heart pounds in your chest, and even more tears stream down your face as you let out a sob. his mouth contorts into a frown. his face, previously so endearing to you, makes you feel absolutely repulsed. you lost everything for the figure standing before you, and he has the nerve to ask you if you’re okay. a fire is ignited in your stomach, and you feel yourself on the precipice of carnal rage. while you’re trying to suppress that feeling, he speaks again.

“i heard you called in, so i thought i’d check on you. do you have a fever?” he questions, reaching out his hand to check your forehead for abnormal warmth. without even thinking about it, you smack his hand away.

“don’t touch me,” you all but growl, but beomgyu is undeterred.

“what’s the matter? i don’t care if you get me sick; i could use the time off,” he teases with a grin, but your face remains twisted up in pure anger.

“get out,” you mumble between clenched teeth.

“what?” he asks, and it's unclear if that's because he's confused, or because he simply didn't hear you. either way, you don't care.

“get out,” you repeat, louder this time, but not lacking any of the previous anger. your erratic behavior is enough to finally irritate beomgyu.

“fine, whatever. forget i even bothered,” he scoffs as he stalks out of the door. you slam it behind him before falling to the floor. this is your chance. you came back too late to avoid ever meeting him again, but it’s still good enough for you. from now on, you two will live completely separate lives spent being nothing to each other. owing nothing to each other. again, you find yourself sobbing in relief.

when you return to work the next day, the first thing you do is head to your boss’ office. he looks relieved to see you for a moment before he notices the envelope in your hand. with the way his smile drops, you know he immediately knows what it is.

“what’s that?” he asks, though the tension in the air is more than enough confirmation that he has no doubts about what the letter reads.

“my resignation,” you tell him.

“may i ask what this is about?” he probes. no, he can’t, because even if you told him, he’d never believe you.

“i just don’t think this position is right for me,” you deadpan, and the look on his face shows that he doesn’t really buy it.

“you’ve worked so hard for so long, and you want to give up now?” he has a point. your company is on the brink of a major deal with another company, which will result in a financial breakthrough like none other, if successful. as fate would have it, said company is the one in which beomgyu’s future wife works, and the dinner where the two of them met is the celebratory party for such success. you’d laugh at the circumstances if you could. “whatever the issue is, we can work it out. just don’t leave before we do this. we need you, and even if you want to leave after we close the deal, you’ll still be rewarded for everything you’ve done. don’t you want to see that happen?” you do. you really, really do. you’ve given so much of yourself for this opportunity, and you really want to see it work out. you guess, in a way, you already have seen it; but if you leave now, that’ll never happen. this particular project needs you to get off of its feet.

but can you really stand to see beomgyu for a second longer? have his mere presence fuck with your head? is it even worth it? you’re about to declare that it most certainly is not, but you stop yourself. the money will be good for you to start a new life. maybe you’ll move buildings, maybe even to a new city, maybe across the country, who knows? you’ll be more than comfortable with this potential payout, and then you can start a new life somewhere where you know nobody, and nobody knows you.

“i want a new partner, at least,” you counter, and his face morphs into a grimace. he’s undoubtedly confused at your sudden aversion towards beomgyu, but he doesn't mention it to you.

“that’ll be difficult. i need you both for this to work.” you’re about to flatout deny him, but he continues. “if you can just make it through this, i promise that you can go wherever you want to go, and i’ll even give you a bonus for your trouble. deal?” you purse your lips as you mull it over. if you can suffer through being partners with beomgyu, your move will be considerably easier. still, you’re undecided before you have an epiphany: in just a few months, beomgyu will meet his future wife and fall head over heels in love with her. all you have to do is ignore him until then, and he’ll inevitably leave you alone once he meets her. so what if beomgyu’s here? you don’t want to care about him anymore. and once everything’s settled, you’ll pack your life away and start somewhere without the bad memories.

“okay,” you reply, and his face breaks out into a grin.

beomgyu is very visibly ruffled today, which you would immediately notice if you just spared him a glance, but you do no such thing. your lack of attention towards him serves to only rile him up even further. he wants to be stubborn—act out until you apologize to him, but once he realizes you have no intention of doing so, he finally relents and approaches you.

“hey,” he says coolly, still a little annoyed, but prepared to forgive you. you look up at him blankly, and he’s unsettled by just how empty your eyes look, so he nervously asks you, “are you… are you feeling better?” you look at him as if he just spouted the most asinine question of all time, and for the first time ever, he feels small under your gaze. he shifts awkwardly on his feet before you break the silence.

“i’m fine,” you tell him. he waits for you to ask him how he is, but the words never come. in fact, you turn away and bury your nose in your work as if he’s not standing there, waiting dumbly for you to respond as you usually would. well, whatever. you’ll have to talk to him, eventually. especially since you two are working on such a big project.

you don’t really talk to him, though, aside from what’s absolutely necessary. for most of the day, you silently slide papers over to him without even deigning to look at him while you do it. when you do have to speak to him, your words are cold and detached, as if even speaking to him is a chore. it’s like you’re looking past him, almost. like you don’t even really see him, and he’s never felt as unsettled by a gaze in his life.

at lunch, you quietly remain at your desk instead of joining beomgyu like you usually would, and you can't quite bring yourself to eat. you just feel sick by this entire situation, and while you know you need food to survive, you’re sure you’ll vomit if you try to eat anything.

beomgyu, on his part, leaves you alone, though he desperately wants to try to get you to eat with him. he won’t admit it, but he’s actually afraid that you’ll reject him again. he doesn't know why, but the thought of you doing so slashes at his heart. this is a mystery to him. he shouldn’t really care if you reject him or not, since he’s been quietly rejecting you for years, but he can’t help it. still, as he watches you space out at your desk, he tries to will himself to bear the brunt of a possible denial before a coworker he recognizes approaches you.

you don’t even notice mingi walking up to you, so you jump in surprise when he greets you. you’re pretty familiar with him, but you’re not particularly close, so you’re a bit surprised by his arrival.

“can i sit with you?” he asks, grinning as he asks it. you nod in response, and he grins even wider before he pulls up a chair and seats himself in front of you.

“are you going to eat?” he questions, and you shake your head.

“not hungry,” you reply. he frowns.

“you still need to eat. you need energy, especially since you’re working so hard.” you’re actually a little sheepish because of his words. so he’s noticed how hard you’ve been working? it feels nice to be appreciated. is he worried about you?

“i’ll eat later,” you lie. he seems a bit reluctant, but he eventually nods.

“make sure you eat, okay? i’ll—i’ll text you and make sure you have. is that alright?” you’re stunned for a few seconds before agreeing, and he ends up sliding you his phone so you can put your number in it.

beomgyu watches it all from his desk, and he feels a sense of loss. is it because you’re directing your attention elsewhere? that has to be it, right? it can't be any deeper than that, but somewhere nearly unreachable inside of him, he feels an unfamiliar sensation scratching at his heart, begging him to acknowledge it. but he shakes away the thought. you’re acting really weird, but that’s okay. you love him, and you’ll get back to normal really soon.

that’s what he tells himself, but you remain as cold as ever throughout the rest of the week. you don’t look at him with those adoring eyes, and you don’t even crack a smile at his attempted jokes. he feels like he's going insane, as if he's on the brink of understanding something really important, but he can't quite make it there.

it all comes to a head when beomgyu shows up late back from grabbing lunch. he's done this a million times before, and he's always been greeted by your insistence that his tardiness isn't a big deal. in spite of the tension between you two, he still assumes that you'll be as forgiving as ever.

“hey, sorry i'm late. i got caught up with eating and didn't realize how late it was getting,” he says casually. he searches your face for any traces of leniency, for the indulgence you used to give him, but there is none. only anger, and maybe even something like regret, though he can't quite understand the latter.

“don't be late again. we don't have time for this,” you say coldly before sticking your nose back into your computer, effectively ignoring anything else beomgyu could say to placate you.

you two work late into the night. beomgyu gets so caught up in his work, too afraid to draw your ire again, but when he realizes he hasn't heard any noise coming from you in a while, he peers over to see you staring blankly at the wall. your face seems expressionless, but your eyes are what horrifies him. dead, empty, hopeless. “a-are you okay?”

the sound of his voice does nothing to break you out of your trance, however. in fact, it seems to have triggered something in you, decimated a dam that was already leaking. your eyes still look blank as tears begin to leak out of your eyes. they fall slowly at first, then incessantly. it's hard to reconcile the steady stream with the way your face remains completely devoid of emotion.

tentatively, he places a hand on your shoulder. suddenly, you're jolted awake, eyes now looking as composed and indifferent as ever.

“are you okay? w-what's wrong?” he asks anxiously,

you hurriedly wipe away your tears before you say, “nothing. just thinking about something.” you redirect your attention to your work, just trying to fully shake the way you were just locked into the memory of you dying alone.

“what could you possibly be thinking about to make you look like that?” he asks concernedly, his voice unintentionally rising in frustration. your eyes harden before you turn to him.

“none of your business,” you say firmly. before he can say anything, you're packing up your things. “i'm going to call it a night and go home.”

“wait! talk to me! what's been bothering you so much lately? you've been weird for a while now, so just tell me what's going on with you. i'm here. i'm listening,” he says as gently as he can.

“you're here? you're listening?” you sneer. “i'm so honored that you finally give a fuck about how i'm feeling,” you say sarcastically. he frowns at your words.

“what are you talking about? i'm always here for you,” he says, and he looks so genuine, it makes you even angrier. he sincerely thinks he's telling the truth. so fucking clueless and selfish.

“are you? do you think offering up your ear once in a blue moon makes you an altruistic angel or something?” you know he can't understand that you're throwing his own words back in his face, because he can't even remember saying them, but you don't care. it just feels too damn vindicating to stop yourself. “beomgyu, you're only as available to me as is convenient to you. you'd never put yourself out of your way to comfort me. meanwhile, i've always been ‘here’ and ‘listening’ at your will. i don't need your pity, and i certainly don't want it.” he's stunned into silence. you're absolutely correct, he realizes with a sinking feeling. before he can formulate the words to defend himself, you pack up your things and leave the office.

in the following weeks, you realize that mingi is… nice. really, really nice. you’re not used to prospective romantic partners actually seeming to like you, so the feeling is foreign, but not unwelcome. do you have feelings for him outside of appreciation? well, not really. in the back of your mind, you honestly doubt that you’re even capable of having feelings for other people anymore, but you try not to think about it too much. if you seriously search for an answer, you fear you won’t like what you find.

mingi is diligent, though, and you like that about him. now that you’ve made it clear that you’re not involved with beomgyu (and never want to be), he’s pulling out all the stops to charm you. lunches you would previously spend with beomgyu are now spent laughing with mingi. in the same way, downtime at work, which would normally entail catching up with beomgyu and maybe helping with a few of his assignments, are now reserved for chats with mingi. as beomgyu watches you two giggle with your heads together, he wonders what you two could possibly be talking about to ever be that funny. his jaw ticks in irritation at the scene. most notably, though, is the fact that instead of spending your off days with him, you flatout reject him with no explanation. not even with a perfunctory “sorry”. he doesn't have to wonder what you’ve been doing when he hears your coworkers gossiping about how you're always hanging out with mingi.

beomgyu feels you slipping away, and it brings a sense of panic he’s never known before. but why? he shouldn't care about your romantic endeavors. granted, you haven’t had one during the entire time that you've known him, but it’s only natural that he supports you as your best friend. best friend. does that term even apply to him anymore? he wants to insist that it does, but as the weeks turn into months, your disgust for him becomes clearer and clearer. as he sits across from you and mingi at an after-work dinner with your department, he watches as mingi flirtatiously whispers into your ear. when some of your coworkers tease the two of you about it, he realizes with sickening certainty that he doesn't just want to be your best friend, he wants to be the one who sits next to you. he wants to be the one your coworkers joke about being your boyfriend, and he wants them to be right about it. the time you two have spent apart has shown him that he can't imagine anyone else occupying the space beside you. with an overwhelming sense of clarity, beomgyu realizes that this feeling, so deep and all-consuming, is love.

how could he not love you? regardless of everything you've done for him, you're still so perfect to him, for him. he finds himself appreciating things he previously took for granted. you're beautiful, caring, funny, and smart. he loves your smile, your laugh, your company. he loves the way you look when you're focused, the way you look so innocent when you sleep. you're the first person he wants to tell any time something happens, good or bad. you're the face he wants to wake up to in the morning. you're the only person he trusts to be his partner for the rest of his life. and now, it's clear that he can't just let you go without a fight.

as everyone begins to leave the restaurant one by one, he follows you out into the parking lot, determined to make his feelings known. even if you don't reciprocate them anymore, he's willing to put in the effort to make you love him again. and even if you don't… even if you can't… the desire to simply be next to you supersedes the need to be loved back.

you don't realize that beomgyu is trailing after you until you get to your car. he calls out your name as you're about to pull the door handle. with a sigh, you turn around.

“what is it?” you ask flatly.

“are you serious about mingi?” he asks firmly, but he already knows that you are not. the way you look at mingi is laughable compared to the way you looked at beomgyu before your sudden change in behavior.

“yep,” you say.

“no, you're not. i can tell,” he argues with conviction.

“oh, and you know me so fucking well, huh?” you snark.

“i do,” he tells you, stepping closer. “i know you, and i know you don't really like him. not really.” damn. he caught you.

“just because i don’t like him now, doesn't mean i can’t like him later,” you insist.

“so what? you’re just going to string him along while hoping you’ll like him someday? are you just going to spend the rest of your life never really caring about anyone? you can't live like that.” his words leave no room for argument, but you’ll be damned before you don't at least try.

“you’re right, i shouldn’t lead him on, but what’s it matter to you? even if it doesn't work out with him, maybe i’ll meet somebody who i can tolerate, and who can tolerate me. i don’t think i need anything more than that.” beomgyu flinches at your bizarre words, but he's already reconciled with the idea that even if you don't want him anymore, he'll still take whatever you want to give him with a smile on his face.

“then what about me? i… i can be that person.” he's so nervous, you can tell that it took all of his courage to say that. but who cares?

“you can’t,” you argue.

“why not?”

“that would mean i’d have to be able to tolerate you, and i don’t want to do that.” not anymore.

“why are you acting like this? you’re acting like i’m so fucking horrible, but you used to lo—” he stops himself, but you both know he was going to bring up the love you had for him. “i just want to know what changed.”

“i did. i changed.”

“but why? i mean, i didn’t realize it before, and i know i wasn’t always the best, but i’ve always had feelings for y—”

“don’t even bother finishing that sentence. you don't like me at all,” you sneer, “you just don’t like seeing me move on.” this makes him pause, and even you don’t have the heart to pretend like you can’t see the hurt in his eyes.

“why can’t you ever just believe me?” he asks quietly. “i’m telling you i love you, but you don’t even care. i’m saying that it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but you’re acting like… like i'm disgusting to you.” he looks like he's about to cry, and it makes you all the more frustrated.

“you don’t understand,” you reply in between clenched teeth.

“then help me understand. i just want to know why. i just want to know how to fix it. how can i bring you back?”

“you can't. look, i’m—” and you’re about to apologize, but you just can’t make yourself do it. “you’ll get it really, really soon. you won’t even remember feeling this way, i can promise you that, and you’ll forget all about me.”

“what are you talking about?” he says exasperatedly. beomgyu may not have always been the best of friends towards you, but he can recognize when you’re holding yourself back. “what aren't you telling me?” you purse your lips in response.

“nothing. there's no point in saying anything, because you wouldn't understand even if you tried. you wouldn't remember—fuck, never mind. just let it go, beomgyu. i have.” but he can't just let it go. this whole fucking thing as an enigma to him. but your words are… odd. what do you mean he wouldn't remember? there's nothing to remember, no matter how much he tries. before he can respond, you get into your car and drive away.

“c’mon, you know i don’t see you like that,” beomgyu tells you, forcing an awkward laugh. your expression immediately crumbles, and he begins to shift uncomfortably when he realizes that he must’ve said the wrong thing. your silence is deafening, ringing in his ears, but he still tries to maintain a smile. maybe you’ll lighten up. maybe you’ll go back to the way you were before. maybe you’ll even crack at smile at this ridiculous situation when you realize that he’s right in his assumption that you’re just being emotional. your feelings for him can only go so deep, right? you can go back to being friends after this, just the way he likes it.

his smile is wiped clean off of his face when your eyes redden and well up in pure, unadulterated hurt. hurt he’s never seen before. he fumbles for the right words, but before he can find them, you break the suffocating silence.

“you knew how i felt about you this whole fucking time, you were just too much of a coward to be honest with me. if… if you had just told me, i would’ve understood. i-i would've—you didn't have to do it this way.” any delusions beomgyu has that you’ll just let this go are promptly flushed away at your biting tone. jesus christ. you’re right, and he knows it. he flounders for a response, but nothing he can possibly say could really be enough.

he spends the duration of the argument mainly trying to defend himself. honestly? he doesn't want to remember everything you two say, but he knows he's being nasty in an effort to keep himself from reconciling with the fact that he is, indeed, a coward. he knows he’s never been the greatest friend to you, though he’s always justified it by recalling the times where he did do thoughtful things for you. when you tell him that your resentment isn’t about the fact that he doesn't feel the same way, but because of the fact that he won’t own up to his actions, he feels a stab to his pride. before he can stop himself, he lashes out.

“i never want to see you again,” you choke out between sobs, and he feels a piercing pain shoot through his body, all the way down to his bones. you don’t mean that. there’s no way you mean that. you care about him. you love him, and even if he doesn't feel quite the same way, he loves you, too. but one look at your resolute face is enough to tell him that you mean it. he wills himself to say something—anything—but you rush out of the door before he can quite muster up the courage to speak.

he stands in a stunned silence for longer than he could ever rightfully justify, but a call from an unfamiliar number eventually pulls him out of his daze. usually, he’d reject it and chalk it up to spam, but something tells him that he should—needs to—answer it. with shaky hands, he accepts the call.

“h-hello?”

the response mostly sounds rather clinical in nature, really. there’s a perfunctory greeting before the monotone voice detachedly states that there’s been an accident, and he will need to come to the coroner’s office to accurately identify the corpse, which had been declared deceased at the scene. as it turns out, he was your first emergency contact.

“we are deeply, deeply sorry.” the final words are the only ones that seem to hold any hint of an emotion in them, but beomgyu is too preoccupied to hear it. in a daze, he gets in his car and makes his way to the coroner’s office. hoping, praying, needing for this to be a bad dream. as he comes to find out, it is not.

beomgyu’s head whips up in horror, and he’s panting like mad in between whimpers. tears incessantly pour out of his eyes, wetting his flushed cheeks. was it all a dream? there’s no way; it was too real to be a dream. he was there—he lived it. no, no, no…

“beomgyu?” a voice says, somewhat breaking him out of his panic. his bleary eyes snap up to the doorway to see you standing there, your eyebrows knit with concern and confusion. you two have been working late again, awkwardly alone together once more after his confession. you saw that he had fallen asleep, but he looked so tired, you couldn't bring yourself to wake him up. “are… are you okay?” he's absolutely frozen as you tentatively approach him, pausing a bit uncertainly before approaching him to get a closer look. he grabs you and tugs you towards him, wrapping his arms around you in an almost bruising grip. he nuzzles his wet face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent in between shudders.

“beomgyu, are you sick? did you have a bad dream?” you ask. his heart would flutter at your concern, concern you haven’t shown him for so long, in any other context; but as it is, he’s far too distraught to appreciate it.

“i… i remember,” he croaks, trying to get even closer to you, as if doing so is the only way to keep you safe. you’d like to break out of his embrace, but he’s so distraught while you’re so off-guard, you don’t do it just yet.

“remember what? something about the project? we can—”

“no. i’m—i remember… i remember losing you.” he can’t quite bring himself to be any clearer, but you seem to understand him, anyway. you stiffen in his arms before prying him off of you. he fumbles for you, just to touch you again, but you push him away. you exert very little force, but it’s firm and unrelenting.

“oh,” you reply, looking a little lost, but mostly just cold. he's basically wailing now, but he tries his best to answer.

“i’m so, so fucking sorry. i didn’t—”

“what, you didn’t mean to? you’re sorry? maybe so, but does it matter?” you cut in, almost snarling. now that he remembers, all of the feelings, all of the resentment you’ve kept bottled up come tumbling out of your mouth. “what's the point in telling me this now, after everything? you’re not sorry, beomgyu. you only care because i’m—because i was gone. i don’t want to hear about your regrets; they’re worthless to me.” he recoils as if you just punched him. his eyes turn even redder than they were before, too, and he’s silent at your words.

he wants to tell you that you’re wrong, because he really is sorry, but can he truthfully say that he’d realize his feelings if you didn’t… go? he can’t. for all he knows, he’d have rejected you forever. he's so ashamed, he'd rather die than feel this way. even so, he wants to attempt to explain himself; you deserve that much. before he can reply, however, you rise and stalk towards the doorway. it’s reminiscent of the way you left when everything happened, and he desperately tries to follow you, grabbing your arm before you can make it out the door.

“don’t touch me. don’t you ever touch me,” you seethe, ripping yourself out of his grip as if the mere feeling of his hands on you burns through your skin, and he staggers backwards. he keeps his arm somewhat outstretched, though. just in case you change your mind.

“don’t leave like this. i-i don’t want you to get hurt.” not again.

“what’s it matter to you?” you sneer. “you didn’t care before, so i won’t waste my life on you ever again.” his eyes widen in terror, and tears fall even more profusely than they already were. you begin to leave, but to your regret—and to his anguish, the angriest part of you forces you to turn around and face him again.

“do you want to know what my last thought was?” you ask, face mostly blank besides the slight traces of disdain in your eyes, and he’s too terrified to move or even speak at all. he knows whatever you say will be something that breaks him, so he tries to shrink himself to be as small as possible; subconsciously praying that doing so will make him disappear in the face of your anger. still, your eyes remain locked on his face—narrowing in on him regardless of his efforts. “it was of you, actually. i was wishing i’d never met you.” he visibly flinches as he gasps sharply, feeling like you just knocked the air out of his lungs. he feels like he can’t breathe. it would have felt better if you had just ripped his heart out of his chest, because as it is, it’s aching so badly, he wishes you had.

his lips tremble, and he looks like he’s just heard the worst news of his life. and he has. you hate him that much? you regret all of the time you had together to the point of wishing it had never happened? he’s never, ever regretted a moment he’s spent with you, but he guesses your company has always been better than his. how could it not be? you’ve always given him more than he could ever reasonably ask for, and even if you hadn’t, you’re still a much better person than he is. better to the extent of making him realize just how unworthy he is.

he lets you leave, but his anxiety makes him frantically pace about the room. he tugs at his hair, willing himself to calm down, but he just can’t. after a few minutes, he texts you and asks if you made it home. to his relief, it says that you’ve read the message, so he knows you must be okay. still, you don’t respond.

the deal is tied up exceptionally smoothly; you’ve done it before, after all, so that comes as no surprise. on the night of the celebratory dinner, you take mingi as your date. you’ve already told him that you don’t see things panning out, but he actually takes it really well. maybe telling him that you’re planning on moving helped smooth things over. still, he insists that you accompany him to the dinner, just as friends. you oblige.

it’s mostly the same as you remember. you spend the night mixing with your coworkers for the last time, and it’s bittersweet. they don’t know that this will be the last time you see them, as your two weeks before resignation have already passed in secret, and you’ll spend the next few weeks just packing and finding a new place to stay far, far away from here. it’s freeing, in a way.

at some point, your manager announces that he’ll be making a toast, and the room quiets as everyone’s attention is placed on him.

“firstly, i’d like to celebrate the success of this collaboration. everyone has worked hard to make everything come to fruition. secondly, i’d like to recognize two of the people who made this possible.” he specially thanks you and beomgyu, which is normal, but the unexpected happens when he voices his regret that you’ll be resigning.

your coworkers look at you in shock, but one person in particular is especially stunned. beomgyu. your manager probably thanks employees of the other company, too, but he doesn’t hear it. other voices, other people, are drowned out by the buzzing in his ears. you’re leaving, and it's all because of him.

he tries to drown his feelings in alcohol, stomach burning with every round, but the regret never seems to numb. the room seems to be spinning, and he looks visibly ill. eventually, a familiar figure takes a seat next to him. ah. his previous fiancée.

“hey,” she says, somewhat coyly. he doesn't respond. “wow, are you okay? you look a little green. how are you getting home?” again, he doesn't respond. she actually appears to be embarrassed, but she tries one more time.

“i actually—i came over here because you're really… cute. if you don't have a way home, i can take you. i won't try anything on you, but i can't just let you go home alone. and maybe, you know, when you're sober, we can—”

“beat it,” he snaps. he knows it’s not her fault, and that she hasn’t done anything, but he still can’t help his resentment, even when it should all be directed towards himself. but his recognition of his unfairness isn’t enough for him to care. she blinks in surprise and embarrassment, rising from her seat in defeat.

beomgyu continues to drink until he’s on the verge of passing out, putting his face in his hands. he draws attention from everyone, but he doesn’t have the mind to care. people try to approach him, but he flatly rejects everyone who attempts to offer their help in order to ensure that he gets home safely.

“should you… should you take him home?” mingi asks. it’s obvious who he’s referring to.

“it’s not my problem,” you reply, a bit more curtly than you intended.

“you’re right, it’s not. but you’re the only one he’ll listen to, and i think you know that.” mingi argues. you sigh. he’s right. as much as you want to blame beomgyu for everything, you’ve come to realize that after the conversation—more like confrontation—you two had, you’re not angry anymore. it was hard to see in the moment, but you’ve begun to question your merciless stance towards him. isn’t it partially your fault that things turned out the way they did? he didn't make you check your phone that day, so isn’t it unfair to completely blame him for everything?

with this in mind, you approach him. he initially bats you away, assuming you’re just another one of his coworkers, but your voice pulls him out of his drunken stupor.

“c’mon. i’ll take you home.” his head whips up in surprise, and he almost thinks you’re joking, but your face is completely serious.

“o-okay,” he replies, sounding extremely docile. you don’t respond, but you begin to walk ahead of him as you head to the exit. he’s having a hard time even following you as he clumsily staggers through the crowd, following you like a lost puppy. hesitantly, he reaches out for your hand, though the fear of you telling him not to touch you remains. you turn back to see his fingers hesitantly outstretched to your hand, and with a look of resignation, you let him grab it as you lead him out.

the ride to his home is a silent one. beomgyu rests his head upon the cold window as he stares at the scenery outside. he doesn’t really take anything in, far too dazed to appreciate the view, but he looks, anyway.

when you enter his apartment, begrudgingly letting him lean on you for support, you take him to his bedroom. he plops down onto his bed in an unnaturally clumsy manner.

“th-thanks for taking me home,” he says meekly.

“mm,” you reply, no inflection of emotion in your tone, getting ready to leave and head to your apartment.

“w-wait! can you… can you stay here tonight?” you look at him doubtfully, but before you can resolutely deny him, he begins to retch. with widened eyes, you pull him up and drag him to his bathroom. he hunches over the toilet and lets everything go. he’s trembling after he’s finished, and you clean him up as best as you can. he melts into your touch as you gently wipe his face. you’re not soothing him with your words like you would’ve a few months ago, but your care, no matter how unwilling you seem to give it, is something he revels in. he brushes his teeth, but he keeps his eyes on your pensive reflection in the mirror. after he's finished, you speak.

“i’ll stay,” you tell him.

“w-what?” he questions, eyes watery.

“i’ll stay for tonight. i’ll take the couch. i just don’t want to leave you when you’re feeling like this. it’s dangerous.”

“n-no! you can stay in the guest room.”

“i need to be able to hear you if something happens,” you argue.

“th-then i’ll sleep on the couch. i don’t want you to—”

“beomgyu, you need to properly rest. if you don’t sleep in your room, i’ll leave.” his face crumbles before he acquiesces with a strained nod.

“good,” you say with a ghost of a smile at his blind obedience, but he's too drunk to notice it. if he had, he would’ve clung to it like a man drowning.

“thank you,” he solemnly whispers.

“goodnight, beomgyu.”

“goodnight,” he says, and you rifle through his drawer for some clothes before heading to his living room and changing. you pull out spare blankets from his linen closet before sliding onto his couch.

you sleep rather peacefully, but beomgyu has no such luck. instead, he's pulled into a dream—one he comes to realize is a memory.

when beomgyu arrives at the coroner’s office, there is a moment, albeit brief, that he sickly hopes that it’s literally anyone else in the world, but when he sees you—body mangled nearly beyond recognition—he realizes that there is no such mercy. apparently, you didn't even die on impact, but by the time somebody reached you, you were already gone. he doesn't want to imagine how you must've felt, being alone in your last moments, but he feels like he should. against the warnings of the coroner and surrounding police officers, he demands for your face to be uncovered. he can surely identify you based on frame and clothing alone, but for reasons he doesn’t dare to dwell on, he feels like he just has to see. he just has to be sure. he just has to know what he did to you.

and he does come to know it. to his eternal regret, he begins to know it at that moment, and consequently, every moment after. as it turns out, they suspect that you were looking at your phone before you swerved off of the road. he doesn’t know how, but he’s instinctively sure that it’s because you were waiting on his call. one resounding thought thrums incessantly in his head: it’s all his fault, all his fault, all his fault.

your face is bloody, barely even showing any of the underlying skin, and marred from shattered glass. he swallows thickly as he reaches out to touch you, running his hands over the gashes on your face as softly as he can as to avoid hurting you, and he can’t help but wonder if it’s at all possible for him to tend to your wounds. he would go over single one, softly patching you up back to normal; but you're already cold to the touch, and though you definitely can’t feel anything, his mind imagines how much it must hurt to have him caress the gaping wounds on your face. he snatches back his hand, as if his touch is poison to you.

“s-sorry, i’m really sorry!” he panickedly exclaims. “i-i won’t—i didn’t mean to hurt you.” he’s unsure if he means that in the current physical or the previous emotional sense, but does that really matter? he already has. besides, you can’t feel anything anymore. all of your muscles are relaxed, leaving you devoid of any expression as your eyes hollowly stare up at the ceiling. for a moment, he wishes the hurt he saw in them a mere hour ago was still there. anything would be better than the current blankness of your features.

the blankness remains, however, even after all of the makeup and superficial repairs done to make you look like you’re only peacefully asleep. to him, you just look dead, no matter how badly he wishes the former were the case. as much as he wants to speak at your funeral, he does not. he doesn't deserve the dignity to speak, much less to properly mourn you. not after what he said to you. not when everything that's happened is all his fault.

the breakup with his girlfriend—or fiancée—is more bothersome than he can handle. in between her pleas and attempts to reason, all he can do is coolly recite the constant refrain: “i’m sorry, i just don’t want to be with you.” she tells him he’s just grieving, that he’ll get over it with time, and she wants to support him while he does it; but he montonously repeats his words as if they're the only ones he knows. in her anger and desperation, she tells him he’s making a mistake, and that he’s just feeling guilty because of your unrequited love, which ultimately proves itself to be the categorically worst thing to say. he finally explodes, telling her that she was the mistake, that he doesn't know what he ever saw in her that even closely compares to you, and he'd take every moment with her back if he could. she's the biggest regret of his life, which previously felt like it had only just begun, but now feels like it stretches far beyond what he can tolerate.

in the days, weeks, months that follow, he struggles to understand how something so unjust could occur. it doesn't make sense. really, it just doesn't make sense. eventually, even his initially patient friends grow weary of his neurotic harping upon how unfair it is, how sudden and wrong it all is. he should be punished. you shouldn’t have had to be the one to suffer, but you were. what kind of justice is that? what kind of universe allows something so cruel to happen right under its nose?

when everyone finally tells him that it’s time to move on and let go, he resorts to speaking to the only person who can’t argue back. you. he visits you every day, bringing you gifts on christmas and your birthday, and even just when he sees something he think you'd like. in a way, they’re almost like sacrifices to you to atone for what he did. his contrition. he spends many of his visits by raving like a man gone mad at a stone slab. he likes to think that you’re agreeing with him, that you see the unfairness for what it is. he’s realized that he loves you, has always loved you, but he was too self-absorbed to notice. as hypocritical as it is, he’s only noticed after you… left, and he’s more disgusted by himself than he ever thought possible. still, he thinks you deserve to know. you deserve for him to be brave and tell the truth, but who cares? what’s the use of only recognizing it after everything he’s done?

he apologizes to you while crying about how much he misses you. he tries to tell you about other things, too. about the things he thinks you would’ve liked to hear. about current events he decides you’d find funny or interesting, about life updates on your friends that you’d want to know, about how a new album has been released by an artist you really liked, and that he can't quite bring himself to listen to it yet. he’ll definitely listen, though, someday. he’ll give you his opinions after describing each track in great detail, once he’s able to bear it, that is. you always look(ed) forward to their releases, so it’s the least he can do to repay his debt to you.

but if you owe someone a debt as deep as their life, how can you repay that debt when they’re no longer here to collect it? if he really thinks about it, there are a lot of things he owes you. he owes you the years you spent caring about him when he couldn’t be bothered to reciprocate a fraction of the same courtesy. he owes you every thoughtful action, every encouraging word you wasted on him. he owes you the time you dedicated to make sure he always felt seen, felt understood, felt loved. yes, he owes you a lot of things—too many to properly account for, actually. and now, he even owes you your life. his debt is so heavy, he crumbles under it every day, squirming pathetically beneath the crushing weight of it all like an insect. the worst part is: he owes you more than you ever asked him for. all you wanted in return was honesty, but it appears that even that was too much to ask from him.

he wishes you were here to punish him, to scorn him for being such a fucking bastard. yell at him, hit him, kill him. anything would be fine—he’d tolerate it all—just as long as you were still here. he’d be perfectly content with your hatred, he’d revel in it, even; but he supposes that he doesn’t even deserve that much. as it is, your silence is the most punishment he can receive, but that doesn't feel like it's even close to enough. he finds himself praying for mercy, for some bizarre, cosmic event to put him out of his misery once and for all. he indulges in the idea that if he plays his cards right, if he begs and pleads enough, he’ll find you again. such a notion is initially enough to placate him, but it is to his horror when he realizes that he’s more afraid of that than anything else. what if he finds you, and you tell him, “i never want to see you again,” just like before? such a terrifying outcome is enough to keep him from snuffing out his own light with his own two hands for good. he’d rather live as if he were dead than hear those words again.

so he does. he lives like that for years, decades, until death mercifully takes him. he lives quietly and utterly alone. no wife, no children, and hardly any friends. if your life was robbed from you by his actions, then it’s only right that he lives as if his own were robbed from him, too. it’s the least he can do to atone for what he’s done. what keeps him up at night, though, is the possibility that it’s just not enough. if you do meet him again, what will you say? will you still tell him that you don't want to see him? that the lifetime he spent regretting everything he's ever done pales in comparison to the price you paid for caring about him? as the darkness overcomes him, however, he realizes that you deigning to say anything at all to him is better than your unbearable silence. his final thought before he's swallowed whole is: please, just let me see you one more time.

beomgyu awakens in a cold sweat, panting heavily as he struggles to understand where he is. is he still alive? that can’t be right—he clearly felt himself slipping away. but what if he can’t die? what if that’s his punishment? the thought alone is enough to elicit a guttural, “no, no, no!” out of him as he realizes that his nightmare is not yet over, and may very well never be. tears pour down his face as he wails like a child.

“beomgyu?” you say as you walk through the doorway, looking somewhat sleepy and disheveled in clothes he subconsciously registers as his own. when he looks at you, he's relieved, but the regret he feels is what overwhelms him.

“oh, god. i'm—it's all my fault.”

“what?” you ask, still a bit disoriented from just waking up, seeing as how it's still the middle of the night.

“it's all my fault. it's all my fucking fault. i did that to you.” suddenly, you realize what he’s saying, and your heart clenches at his words.

“beomgyu, no. i was distracted. i didn’t see—”

“you were distracted because of me. you thought i was calling you, i just know it. you were there because of me. because i’m a fucking coward who couldn't just tell you the truth.” you don’t know what to say. did he really blame himself for everything? even after all of this time? before you can answer, he speaks again.

“i saw—you just looked so small. i've never—i didn't even think anyone could bleed that much. you were so cold, a-and your face was—”

“hey, hey, hey, stop it,” you say firmly, but gently, “you're not—”

“they said you died at the scene, all… all alone. and i know i was the one who did that. if i had just listened to you, if i had just been honest with you, you would've been alright. but i called you crazy. i said you were being stupid. w-why did i say that? what did i do it for?”

“look at me,” you say firmly, which makes his unfocused eyes zero in on you. “listen, listen to me. it's not your fault, okay? i used to feel like it was, but now i understand that you were scared. i know you couldn't control how you felt about her, and you were right about you not owing me your feelings. you could've been honest, but that doesn't mean you killed me.”

“no, i did it. i did it. i did that to you. if i had just—”

“gyu,” you sigh, and his heart can’t help but stutter at the nickname you haven’t called him in months. “i’m telling you it’s not your fault. i used to blame it all on you, and i was wrong for doing that. but you get it now, right? you're supposed to be with her. you love her.”

“no, no, no! i don't. i really don't,” he desperately exclaims, trying to convince you in the only way he knows how.

“maybe not yet,” you concede, “but you will. once you get to know her, you'll want to spend the rest of your life with her. that's how it's supposed to be, just like before.”

“there is no before,” he cuts in pleadingly. “i lived and died alone, just like i deserved. i just—i love you so much, i couldn't stand to let you go.” you frown at his words—they make you actually feel guilty. even so, you guess that it's time to let the purgatory you find yourselves in go. besides, maybe he needs an apology to finally put it all to rest.

“i'm sorry that—” his heart drops to his stomach. please don’t say it. he’s begging you not to say it. not to someone as unworthy and filthy as him.

“don't. please, please, don't apologize to m—”

“—i made you feel that way. even when i hated you, i never wanted you to live like that; but you can't mistake guilt for… something else. maybe this is another chance to get it right. you can be with her guilt-free, and i can live without regrets.”

“no, i-i didn’t break up with her because of guilt! i did it because i realized that if it’s not you, i don’t want it to be anyone else. it can’t be anyone else.”

“you don’t know that,” you sigh. “you think you feel that way, but you’re just sad that things ended how they did.”

“you’re wrong!” he exclaims. “i didn’t realize it—i was too stupid to realize it. and i know it’s disgusting of me, but i only… i only understood it after i lost you. i-i’m sorry i didn’t realize it before, but please don’t tell me how i feel. i spent every day wishing i would just fucking die so i could see you again. i just couldn’t stand living without you. that’s not normal—that’s not how friends feel, no matter how guilty they are. i just wanted to die.” you purse your lips at his words as you feel dread pooling in your stomach. at least when you died, you didn’t suffer for long, but he suffered for the rest of his life. in the same way, you didn’t want him to hurt himself, no matter how angry you were.

beomgyu has begun to hyperventilate, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you—too afraid that you’ll disappear if he does. he’s probably having a panic attack as tears stream down his face, and he ruthlessly tugs at his hair in pure distress. all he can do is repeat that it's all his fault and how sorry he is, and any lingering resentment you may feel dissipates like smoke at his absolutely shattered state. it seems like he really can't live without you, so are you sure you can abandon him like this? you don't think so. although it may not be right, you still think that it's worth a shot. you don't think he has the capacity to hurt you ever again, and you realize that even after everything, you don't think you can love somebody the way that you love him. so, you're willing to let him try again.

“hey, hey. stop it,” you coax, seating yourself on his bed. but he can’t stop it, he physically can’t. he’s whimpering now, like a wild beast with a mortal wound. you don’t hesitate to take him into your arms, holding him tightly as you shush him. “shh, it’s okay, i’m here. don’t cry. i’m here, and i won’t leave again. i promise. just breathe, in… then out. that’s it, just like that. good job.”

eventually, his breath begins to even out, though his body is still racked with shudders. you’re here. you’re okay. you promised that you won’t leave him, and you always keep your word when it comes to him. he finally feels like he can breathe, and even though he’s in so much pain, he still wishes this moment will never end. he wishes he could stay in your arms forever, never letting you leave his side. always staying where he can reach you.

“better?” you ask, pulling away to get a good look at him, but he shakily grips your sleeve in sheer desperation. he just has to be touching you, somehow. he forces himself to nod.

“good,” you say, eyes soft and lips slightly upturned in relief. he almost loses it again at the sight of your smile, no matter how small. he never thought he’d see it directed towards him again in this life or the next. “do you want to start over?”

“s-start over?” he asks. he doesn't dare to let himself hope that you mean what he thinks you mean.

“start over,” you nod. “we can try again, okay?”

“oh, p-please,” he begs. he’s so pathetic. he doesn’t deserve your mercy, but he supposes he’s too selfish to reject it. you look at him for a long, long time with soft eyes. you’re not angry anymore—he’s suffered more than enough, and you finally believe that he loves you just as much as you love him, and maybe even a little more than that.

“you promise you won't hurt me again?”

“i promise. i swear to god—”

without a second thought, you gently cup his face in your hands, which makes his words catch in his throat. his eyes widen as you lean in while pulling him towards you. when your lips meet, he’s electrified to his bones. he melts into the kiss, whimpering slightly at the feeling of your lips against his. when you break apart, you rest his forehead on his own, closing your eyes as he stares at you before he does the same. he clutches the hand you have on his face and grazes his thumb over it as he lets out a contented sigh. nobody has ever made him feel this way before, and if he could go back to the first day he met you, he’d tie you to him immediately.

“thank you, thank you so much,” he whispers. with a smile, you press your lips against his again. he falls into the feeling just as easily as the first time, and you push him down before continuing to go even deeper. before completely giving in.

you spend the night loving and being loved in a way that you never thought you could. you feel cherished to a degree you previously considered impossible. beomgyu reveres you as if you’re his god, and he shows you as much with how loving and gentle he is. when you’re finished, panting heavily against each other, he holds his hand against your cheek as he stares at you in awe.

“i missed you so much. i love you so much. i promise that nobody will ever love you as much as i do. i promise that nobody will ever treat you as well as i will. just don’t leave me, okay?” and when the time comes, even if you do leave first, he’ll be sure to follow you. he won't let you be alone ever again. but he definitely can’t tell you that, or else you’d yell at him for not caring about his life enough.

“okay,” you tell him with a sleepy smile, and he beams before kissing your forehead and letting you drift off. he stares at your peaceful face, resolving to always give you what you want, no matter what it costs him. even if it kills him, he'll gladly do whatever it takes to ensure that you're happier with him than you could ever be with anyone else. he'll prove to you how much he loves you, and he'll pay back the debt he owes you a million times over. you'll see. he’ll marry you, start a new life with you, and chain himself to you forever; which may sound selfish, but he’ll make up for his willfulness by being everything you could ever want and need. and finally, before he joins you to sleep, he thanks the universe for having mercy on him—for letting him see you again.

notes pt. 2: ... so? LMAOOOOO i hope this was worth the wait bc this work was so hard for me to get through it was making me so sad to write it. anyway, love yew. please don't be mean to me tho like if u don't like it just close your eyes n scroll 🙏

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#niningtori #the way we were before #txt angst #beomgyu angst #txt ff #beomgyu ff #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fic #txt fic #txt x reader #txt x you #beomgyu x you #txt x y/n #beomgyu x y/n

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anifever · 9 months ago

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Dating Darry Curtis HC’s ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Darrel “Darry” Curtis x Fem!Reader

୨୧ : What I think dating ‘Superman’ would include

A/N : I’ve been busy but school’s out now so hopefully I can work on requests 💔. Also ily Jake Gyllenhaal but they should’ve never remade Roadhouse..

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🕊️ ˚₊‧⁺˖

୨ I hate to say it (not really), but you’re like a married couple

୨ The gang calls you mom and dad as a joke

୨ You guys are so sitting on a porch with wind chimes and birds chirping in the bg and the warmth of the sun hitting your skin coded

୨ You’re so disgustingly in love and it makes everyone sick

୨ I feel like bcs of how he’s portrayed and the responsibilities/stress he takes on from the entire gang, it makes him seem way older than he is

୨ That’s also probably due to Patrick Swayze being 31 instead of 20 while filming and also being 15 years older than C Thomas Howell irl instead of the 6 year age gap their characters actually had…

୨ Anyways, you help him actually act more his age

୨ You convince him to go out more, etc

୨ Everyone’s happy to see him let loose once in a while

୨ Like you guys mess around when you bake/cook together by throwing flour at each other and giggling omg I’m vomiting

୨ You guys are sometimes (very rarely) even spotted at Buck’s together and Dallas has to do a double take

୨ You also bribe the boys to give you guys or just him in general some alone time LMAO

୨ You absolutely slow dance in the kitchen. Idc.

୨ He’s the type to call you “a real treat” when you dress up or do something nice for him

୨ Going shopping together and him walking around with his lil’ glasses reading the grocery list while you push the cart

୨ Sitting in his lap while he reads the newspaper ohahahwbrbrbnrne

୨ You guys definitely met early on; slow burn

୨ You were SO ‘So High School’ by Taylor Swift when you were a little bit younger

୨ Been in the works of writing a ff abt that..

୨ FINALLY officially asked you out senior year for prom and you’ve been together since, even though you guys were in love way before that

୨ You definitely have to get in between his and Pony’s fights a lot

୨ Soda comes to you for advice, no matter what it is- he thinks it’s refreshing to have someone new to talk to rather than constant arguing, yada yada

୨ Dallas either flirts with you to piss Darry off or he has a relationship with you like he did with Mrs. Curtis. No in between.

୨ The type of man to give you foot massages

୨ On the contrary, you also massage his shoulders

୨ Johnny probably had a tiny crush on you when you first met him years back, but it went away when you guys started dating

୨ Went away to an extent at least..

୨ Him standing between your legs while you’re sat on the sink shaving his face for him GODODODODID

୨ He says “honey, I’m home” unironically

୨ He’s able to pick you up pretty easily no matter your weight

୨ He does it a lot and it’s mainly to show off LMAO

୨ You guys play checkers together and genuinely enjoy it which doesn’t help your mom/dad allegations

୨ EXTREMELY good at calming you down whether it’s a panic attack, etc

୨ He might lose his temper a lot on his brothers, but he never does it with you

୨ If he ever does accidentally snap at you, he apologizes to no end

୨ He’s touching you whenever he can; a hand on your waist, around your shoulder, keeping you on his lap, a finger in your belt loop, etc

୨ Speaking of belt loops, you pulling him in by the loops or his belt buckle to kiss him⁉️⁉️⁉️ I’m losing it

୨ Whenever any sort of errand needs to be run, he either forces Pony/Soda to do it, or makes you come with him alone

୨ He buys you flowers whenever he has the extra money ☹️

୨ Has his moms wedding ring kept someplace safe to give to you one day

୨ On another note, she loved you so much before she passed

୨ She was also constantly teasing him about you two when you guys were younger

୨ If he’s exhausted from work and flops onto the couch with you, don’t expect to be getting up anytime soon

୨ Back to the ‘him going out more’ point- you guys go to rodeos together whenever he knows Pony is being watched by someone else

୨ Calming lil’ picnics together by a lake

୨ He unfortunately will have to cancel plans a good amount because of work-related stuff, but you completely understand

୨ He’s pretty stubborn about letting you help with money, but he gives in sometimes

୨ You leave him cute notes in the lunch that he takes to work <\\3

୨ He for sure keeps a hand on your thigh or knee while driving

୨ There’s no doubt in my mind you’d grow old together

୨ He’s thankful for you in so many ways and is glad you’re able to help his life feel normal again and like an actual 20 year-old

#darry curtis x reader #darrel curtis #darry curtis #darrel curtis x reader #darry curtis x you #darrel curtis x you #the outsiders #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders x you #the outsiders darry #darry curtis imagine #darrel curtis imagine #outsiders x reader #outsiders #curtis gang #patrick swayze #curtis gang x reader

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irisintheafterglow · 1 month ago

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satoru got his big break with the library desk employee. so what? university!suguru lost the bet, sure, but for some reason his interest in you didn't leave his mind. he'd known his best friend was crushing hard since the first time they'd entered the library and the pretty student smiled at satoru from behind the front desk.

i think i'm in love. suguru, hunched over a chemistry textbook, glances at satoru from the corner of his eye.

it's literally their job to make you feel welcome, genius.

but what if they, like, truly love me? he's dumbfounded by his friend's rose-colored delusion.

you're a doofus.

he continues thinking about it long after the study session concludes (a one sided session, since satoru insisted how he could woo the front desk assistant for the next two hours) and follows his normal routine of heading to the rec center to blow off some steam. he barely thinks twice about scanning the barcode on his phone at the entrance gates when the hairs on the back of his neck stand stick-straight. someone is watching him.

he scans the lobby and finds a pair of eyes across the floor, halfway hidden by a large counter for the member services desk. the eyes disappear before he can register who exactly was staring and you hope he didn't spot you as you duck behind the safety of the counter. suguru narrows his eyes but doesn't think twice about it.

the following week is when he makes the bet and hatches his plan to get satoru to shut up and take some of his money in the process. it felt like an easy victory: suguru knew he wasn't terrible looking, and you must've been interested considering how much you stared at him. he wasn't big on the school's dating scene and reserved his limited energy for whatever makeouts he found at his frat house's parties; to him, winning your naive affection would be a piece of cake. all he had to do was get your number and satoru's money would be his. simple enough, is what he thought.

but for the life of him, he could not catch you.

since the day he caught you staring, he noticed every time he entered the gym that you were looking and would duck away before he could so much as blink. at first, he lingered and waited for you to pop back up from behind the counter, but ended that strategy when he was asked if he was loitering on the property. the one time he approached the counter, you had conveniently disappeared to throw the intramural jerseys into the dryer...for the ten minutes he was waiting around for you to return. again, he was accused of loitering and forced to move on.

any progress with the rec worker? satoru whispered as he browsed for an interesting-enough looking book that he can make up small-talk over. he picks up a random one, something about technological advancements in ancient china, and tucks it under his arm.

i wish, suguru lamented. it's like they know i see them and are purposefully avoiding me so they don't have to talk to me.

i told you, i'd give you 'worst resting bitch face' if we could choose senior superlatives in high school, satoru reminds him with a thoughtful expression. also, you're in a frat! frat guys' reputation on campus isn't exactly the cleanest.

you're saying i need to look nicer? he examines his hoodie decorated with large iron-on patches of his frat's greek letters. it didn't look too dirty, he'd run it in the wash just last sunday...

i'm saying you need to look friendlier and less like a fuckboy.

oh. makes sense.

that's rich coming from you, suguru counters without acknowledging that maybe his friend was right. if he was going to woo you and hopefully knock down satoru's ego a few notches, he needed to be a little less...frat-like?

wordlessly taking the advice, he skips the loud philanthropy week shirt and opts for a plain muscle tee for his next gym session. black shirt and grey sweatpants shouldn't be too arrogant, right? he even practices his smile in the toothpaste-stained bathroom mirror until it's warm enough to save the titanic from the iceberg. tying his hair back so you can see all of his friendly face, he doesn't give you a moment to duck away when he steps through the doors at exactly 5:30pm.

he turns his head as soon as he steps into the air conditioning.

you're already staring.

he stares right back for a moment before pulling the corners of his mouth up ever so slightly, just like he practiced.

you gasp slightly and he thinks today is the day that you finally let him approach you.

unfortunately, his clothes, hair, face, and smile are enough to induce a nosebleed.

fuck!

by the time he rushes to the counter, eyes wide with panic, you've already shuffled away into the back and another worker informs him of your bloody-faced status. a little coyly than to go unnoticed, he notes to himself, but accepts his loss anyway and plans how to try again the next day.

after two weeks of putting on his plainest clothes, tying his cleanest hairdos, practicing his warmest smiles, and hurrying his fastest steps to get to the counter, suguru is absolutely ashamed to report that he's made zero progress.

interestingly enough, other girls at the gym had started to notice his changes in behavior and wardrobe, but he couldn't muster any energy to return their flirtations as they brush their fingers against his exposed biceps. all he could think about is you, and the way your eyes seem to sparkle when he meets them from across the lobby. he's snuck glances at the pens you abandon when you escape, the stickers on your water bottle, and the way you wear a special button on your uniform shirt every friday. you seem to always have a granola bar wrapper lingering on the desk, the same flavor each day but changing every week. he was learning so much about you without ever uttering a word, and it was killing him.

when satoru announces triumphantly that he finally got a date with the library attendant, suguru doesn't even blink. with his lack of progress, it was only a matter of time before his plan ultimately backfired and satoru was the true, smug winner of the bet. still, despite the earnings paid and the yapping continued, suguru wanted to talk to you. he wanted to learn about your interests, your goals, your life. he wanted to solve your mystery that he'd unknowingly forced himself into, and he'd be damned if he didn't at least get your name before the semester ended.

after months of waiting for you to talk to him, he swallows his pride and goes to the gym half an hour early.

"hi," he says carefully while you finish up whatever was on your computer screen.

"hi there, how can i help y--" when you finally meet his eyes, your practiced smile drops into pure shock and you take several moments to snap your face back into place. "i...um...how can i--oh!" you whirl around to your nearest coworker at a whiplash-causing speed, rambling quickly about how you forgot to inflate the volleyballs for the playoffs or some bullshit. thankfully, your coworker just blinks at you and then says that they can take care of it, patting your shoulder reassuringly and giving suguru a knowing look. before he knows it, it's you and him, just the moment he's been waiting for, and he has no idea what to say.

"i'm sorry that i--"

"i was wondering if you--"

you both tumble over your words at the same time and he chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. his bicep flexes with the motion and he catches your eyes rake it over. fearful of another nosebleed, he drops his arm abruptly and blurts out whatever words he can before you can scurry away.

"get dinner with me."

"i-i'm sorry?"

"i was wondering if you wanted to, you know," he shrugs sheepishly and is suddenly glad that none of his friends are there to tease his embarrassment, "get dinner sometime."

"you want to go on a date with me," you echo in disbelief. he nods slowly like any sudden movement would frighten you. "but...but why?"

"i think you're really pretty," he replies simply.

"but i've been hiding from you for the past--"

"two months, one week, and four days," he finishes for you before he can think about what he's saying. "i mean, not that i'm counting." your face finally breaks its shell of surprise and you burst out laughing. suguru thinks it's the best sound he's ever had the privilege of experiencing.

"so, just to be clear," you confirm when you've caught your breath. "i've been avoiding talking to you because seeing you look so good gives me nose bleeds. and now you want to get dinner with me?"

"i can bring copious amounts of tissues just in case, but yes." his expression becomes gravely serious, like he was giving you a request on his death bed. "please, say yes."

if it meant seeing how brightly you smiled when you finally murmur a yes, he would go through the entire bet with satoru three times over.

here u go @damb-it <3 hope you like it - sincerely, a library guest services attendant

#suguru x reader #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #geto fluff #suguru fluff #jjk fluff

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baddiewiththebook · 1 year ago

Text

ONE OF THE BOYS

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n originally a one-shot, but I couldn’t help myself and wrote some more!

Part 1 [Part 2]

-> <-

Your heart sinks into the deepest pits of your chest. The tiny inconspicuous hole where no one would ever look. Your spirit lies under the earth, while Eddie lies bricks instead of dirt across your corpse. A quite violent death you have taken on.

“Are you still with us?” Gareth waves a hand in front of your face. Grease slips between his fingers from his two day old burger that your school pretends was freshly slapped on a grill that morning.

You squirm. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Eddie says you could come to practice,” he throws his hand up. “You’re one of the boys!”

Right.

Like someone had thrown water across your face, you slide theatrically to the floor in a puddle of you. Theatrically speaking - of course.

The lunchroom chatter dies in the back of your head like you just did a moment ago. You excuse yourself from the group, while claiming that you have forgotten your exam in the next class period and you should really put in at least a few moments of study time.

Your few moments are actually spent stowing yourself away in the ladies room.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe he asked you out!” A girl squeals. “What are you going to wear? Tell me everything!”

You had stopped your self doubting and your eternally ill fading romantic imaginations you came up with while you stare at the dull gaze in your eye behind the dirty spotted bathroom mirror. You should focus on your studies anyway. Failing your senior year of high school, again, was not on your list of to-do's.

Then again, the two girls gossiping were very pretty. You took notes. Hair full and down to her chest in length. The kind of hair Texas wishes they had. Cheeks were plump, and dusted pink with some powder of sorts. Full lips covered in sweet strawberry gloss. You can smell their gloss from just a sink away. That, or perhaps that was their perfume. Sweet and feminine.

“I'm sorry,” one of them notices you staring, while she applies a thick coat of her lip-gloss. 'Strawberry Dream' is what the little label on the tube reads. “Are we being loud?”

“No, no,” you shake your head.

“Okay,” she sings awkwardly, before continuing the conversation her friend had started. “Anyway, Josie, I think we should go shopping for a new outfit. Oh! I - so - need a new gloss. Something sexy!”

“Sexy?” You accidentally slip the words, before you could stop yourself.

The girl cocks her head. “Do you usually eavesdrop?”

Not that they weren’t talking in front of her.

“My bad,” you tug at the ends of your t-shirt. “Erm- you’re trying to impress this boy?”

“Yes,” she says simply. “Do you have some sort of advice?”

Looking you up and down, she spots the stains from your lunch at your chest. Trying not to snort and jeer at your expense, she waits for you to respond. Her cocky tight lipped smile says enough.

“Actually,” you reply. “I- Why don’t you try being yourself? He clearly likes you to ask you out, so maybe you could tone it down?”

“Tone it down?” She frowns. “Like you? Tell me er- girl of some sort- how many dates have you gotten with that fresh out of bed look you wear every single day. You look like a shy boy. Yeah, I see you around. You’re small like a shrimp. You need to be shark in these waters or your going to get your head bitten off. Put on a bra. A low cut top. And, maybe some blush to hide that dead corpse face you wear-,”

“It’s my skin-,”

“When you get a date, then you get an opinion. Got it?”

“Got it,” you zip your lips. What a bitch.

-> <-

Practice, as the group of men slamming poorly synchronized chords together, is held at Gareth’s garage promptly after school. You did not participate in the noise, but rather you sit in a lawn chair onlooking. Fanning yourself with your hands, sweat glistens across your skin like armor.

Your friends finish their set. Eyes on you, you cheer for their noise that will surely draw eyes from the neighborhood. Someone will be by soon to tell the boys to quiet their racket, and to perhaps indulge themselves in a new activity like reading a book. The Book, perhaps.

“You’re getting better,” you propose promisingly.

Eddie nudges your shoulder with a fist on his way to the cooler to grab a cold soda. You pretend like your heart didn’t just stop inside of your chest.

“I told you, guys,” Eddie has been raving to his band mates (and occasional D&D players) that you, his B.F.F., wasn’t going to ruin practice. That just because you might have a new rack and hips hidden underneath this t-shirt wasn’t going to change any dynamic within the group.

They all agreed about this while staring at your ever growing chest and hips. You cover your chest again, before speaking out of turn.

“Are you ever going to preform these songs?” You ask the group.

Eddie’s plush lips touch the bottle his soda came in. Condensation from the glass dripped across his chin and down his neck to the exposed flesh of his chest.

And, they were so worried about you “developing.” Here you are, eyeballing your best friend like you haven’t ever seen him before. Suddenly, you woke up one morning and you were obsessed with him!

It isn’t like that at all. You didn’t know when you began having feelings for your best friend. Somewhere between living next to each other in the trailer park. Sneaking out after your curfew to splash in Lovers Lake (Eddie’s favorite way to wash off his worries). And, the times you tripped over your own clumsiness when Eddie was the first to rescue you. You might have just fallen into his eyes you stared at them so long. Maybe- maybe that’s when something changed.

No more boys and girls - there are men and women. High school changes us - all of us. There’s science behind it all, you suppose. You took health courses, but no scientific explanation could bring you to figure out how you were completely enamored by your best friend.

Your best friend, who is sweating underneath the heat of the garage. Finding himself without options, he strips his shirt.

“Hold this for me,” he says like there’s no issue. Because there was no issue for him, you’re alone in your feelings. Classic.

“Sure,” you fold his shirt up in your lap, while resisting the urge to inhale his scent like a trained dog trying to find a missing person. Or, like an addict getting their fix for the first time in days.

“And, yes,” Eddie announces, before slamming down a new chord. “Come watch us at the Hideout!”

“Really?!”

“Sure,” Gareth speaks for his friend. “If you want.”

“I’ll come,” you ask, “What time?”

“We’ll start setting up around six in the evening, but we’re not set to play until seven,” Eddie explains to you. “Friday.”

You nod. “I’ll be there!”

“Oh, Eddie!” Gareth grabs his attention. “You gonna bring Roxie?”

Roxie Martin? Now, she’s a hot pair of tits in a mini skirt. Full scarlet lips, Rockin’ Roxie, as some people called her, was a She Devil in human skin. Sinking her teeth into her pray, she poisons them with feminine venom. She doesn’t even have to sing them a tune, for men will follow her into the depths of the vast blue ocean without question.

Some just thought she was a slut in heels, though.

Whatever story floats.

Eddie strums a sour note.

“Dude, I’m just teasing,” his friend snickers.

Eddie scolds his friend, then the group of boys begin to slam on their instruments some more.

You sat there for hours watching Eddie slobber over his guitar. Sweat glistened down across his skin. His fingers striking each chord by heart as he did every night. Touching the strings expertly with the tips of his cherry red fingers. He begun feeling sore towards the end of the night, and the guys agree that it would probably be a good opportunity to turn in for the night.

Practice would resume tomorrow.

And you were forever and eternally frustrated.

-> <-

“Robin,” you slouched over the clear candy bowl labeled ‘Free.’ “I need to be a girl.”

Robin jabs away at the keypad of the store computer that is clearly frozen. While she might be renting out videos to people, Robin’s shit with technology.

That gave her more time to ignore her responsibilities, however, and acknowledges to your moping. With an arched brow, she sucks in her lips and she lets them go with a loud pop.

“You are a girl,” she states the obvious, while appearing to look down at your chest. “Or- so I think.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you stuff more candy into your mouth like a starved squirrel just coming out from hibernation. Squirrels hibernate, don’t they? Whatever.

“What ever could you possibly mean?” She props herself up onto her elbows.

There was a time when you were a child that a mean boy kicked dirt on you at the playground. Swooping in like your knight in shining armor, Eddie came to you to brush the dirt from your clothes and to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Feeling outcasted, Eddie surrounded himself in the weaker kids. The kids that enjoy recess sitting on the brick wall of their school, or close by the door to wait for your teachers to let you back inside.

You read books with him during quiet reading because he didn’t know how to keep the letters from mixing together. Eddie would apologize for his hair being frizzy, and all over the place. You thought he was funny looking like that.

Sometimes you wish you could go back to the good old days where your heart didn’t sing in your chest whenever your childhood best friend was near. You wish the aching in your bones would sooth itself instead of feeling fuzzy every time Eddie greeted you at a whisper from behind. That his strong hand touching you like a doll would become friendly again, and less like you want to shove him against the lockers to kiss his pretty face.

You knew better.

Yet, here you are.

Say it had something to do with what happened yesterday. Roxie’s sexy. You want her sexy. Not her. But, just the sexy. And, whoever was in the bathroom was right. You’re much more than a baggy t-shirt and a pair of denim on your legs. You grew up during the summer, and so what if you want to show off a bit. You earned your assets.

“I can’t tell you,” you put out there for Robin to read. “You’ll blab to Steve, and Steve will tell- doesn’t matter.”

You wait for her to speak, but Robin never does. She blinks at you.

“There’s this boy-,”

“A boy?!” Her voice echoes against the furthest most walls.

You wave your hands. “Robin!”

“Go on!”

“I just - I want to grow up a little.”

The jangle of the front door opening broke their conversation apart. There was nothing elegant about Eddie Munson. He slammed his jacket into the stand of desperately rentable tapes. The display wobbled. Swiveled. And, slammed into the floor. The video tapes splattered.

“Dude!” Robin huffs. “I just put those up!”

Eddie scrambles to rescue the mess. “My bad, Robs. You know? You might not want to put these right in front of the walkway. ‘Could get knocked over - see?”

Robin knew Eddie from class. Smart mouth guy with a lot to say about literature. He held a lot in his head, but once he got to a piece of paper, he could just go.

“The usual, Eddie?”

Oh, and he also rented out the same tape once a week for the past three weeks. It was a Rated R film that had a single one minute scene of a nude woman on top of a man she was suffocating. Not with her boobs- with his belt.

Robin snaps back into reality.

“Eh, looking for something new,” he fixed the display, before joining the girls at the register. “Suggestions?”

Robin slams her palm against the monitor. “Stupid thing is still frozen. Oh! Did you hear your little pal has a crush on a boy?”

“Robin!” You cringe. Turning into the wallpaper sounds really nice right about now. Hell, you’ll fix that computer if it gets Robin off the topic of you.

Anyone, she can blab to anyone, but Eddie. Where was Steve when you needed him? Oh, you are so screwed!

“What? It’s just Eddie!”

Just Eddie - yeah, Robin, that’s the problem.

“A crush? On who?” Eddie scoffs out loud.

Your jaw goes agape. “Are you saying I can’t have a crush on someone?”

“No, I just- you’re one of the guys!”

“She can’t be one of the guys forever,” Robin defends you. Perhaps she saw you twitch. “She’s a girl underneath those stains.”

You brush your dirty t-shirt.

“Robin-,”

“What? Whoever this boy is, he’s shit out of luck if he doesn’t see what we all see,” your friend continues.

Eddie teeters his balance back and forth on each foot.

“I’m going to go look for a movie,” he says.

Robin ignores him shuffling into the isles. “I’m just saying if he doesn’t like you back that is his loss. Right?”

You peak around for any sight of Eddie. His frizzy mane is locked onto a movie in the farthest isle.

“Oh my god,” Robin follows your gaze. “Oh my god! This is big- no, huge- I can’t believe before my eyes your friends to lovers trope-,”

“Robin! Hush!” You whisper at a much louder volume than you anticipate.

Yet, here comes Eddie back to the counter without a film in hand. Robin shoots you a glance that screams that she’s about to burst like a toddler who has to pee, but they can’t get their overalls off.

“Can’t find anything?” Robin intertwined her fingers in front of her.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Eddie sighs.

The sound that came from Robin’s lips could have been the earth splitting in two, and trying to suck her in or the angels above calling her back to heaven. She’s a bit eccentric.

Oh, God, you think she’s plotting.

“Actually,” she settles. “I have a film back here that we haven’t set out on shelves yet.”

“Is it a romance?” He guesses purely based on the actors gazing longingly on the front cover. “Robin, I don’t do romance.”

“Obviously,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “Anyway, this is a mystery. Hm? You know? Like clues and shit.”

“Clues and shit?”

“Maybe,” you signal ‘no’ to Robin, but she blatantly ignores you, “you two can watch it together. Hm? Solve the mystery, before the show ends? Let me know what you think!”

“Robin-,” Eddie begins, but Robin is already scanning the tape to rent out.

“It’ll be fun!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll see you around six for a movie night like old times?”

You mask your embarrassment. Nodding in a set agreement, Eddie left with the film still eyeing the cover like it had just insulted him.

“How could you do that?” You shame her.

Robin shrugs her shoulders, while dancing behind the counter like a relationship fairy.

“Oh! You’ll need something to wear by then!” She shouts to her coworker. “Steve! I’m not feeling well! Will you be okay for the rest of the day?!”

“Ah ha,” Steve appears like he’s been waiting for permission to enter the conversation. “You’re not leaving me here by myself!”

“What was that? I can’t hear you,” she points to her ear, as she’s setting her jacket over her shoulders. “Ear ache.”

“Robin!”

“Huh? Oh, thank you!” She shuffles herself and you out the front door.

Warm air meets you outside. Although you wished to take off another layer, you felt practically naked as is. Cotton blend shirts were thick in these spring days. The same could be said for your denim jeans.

“Won’t he be mad?” You ask.

Robin snorts. “Steve? No.”

No explanation given - no explanation necessary. Robin and Steve were like a pair of siblings at most times. Although, knowing Steve had a thing for Robin at some point made the analogy much creepier than it should have been.

You drive yourself and Robin back to your home where your family was not. They’re out of town for the whole week doing an anniversary trip. Figuring your of the age to take care of yourself, they’ve left you by yourself with only the responsibility of keeping the home clean.

“What are we looking for?” You sit on your made bed hugging one of your pillows to your chest, while Robin riffles through your closet.

Robin shoves another dress across the hanger to the disapproved pile. Her grunts and sighs are discouraging as is, but rather her blatant disregard that you like some of those clothes is hurting even more. Or, maybe you like those clothes. You haven’t gone shopping in a while.

“Do you own anything that isn’t from Forever 40?” She jokes heartily.

You tilt your head to one side. “I like my clothes.”

“Well, we don’t have time for shopping,” she scans around your room for something. Jostling your clean laundry, your papers across your desk and the drawers under them - she finally lets out an, “Ah, ha!”

You groan. “Are you going to clean your mess?”

Clearly ignoring you, Robin holds up a sharpened pair of scissors like a magic wand. Holding one of your plain shirts in the air, she begins slicing away at every angle.

“Hey!” You protest.

She pauses. “Right, put it on.”

“Rob, that’s my favorite shirt!”

“I’ll buy you another one,” she shoves your head through the hole, and continues sniping at the edges. Fondling your chest, she measures where the top of your breast lies. “Hey! Your the first woman to let me touch their boobs. Congrats!”

You laugh at this. “Robin, as your friend, you can touch my boobs any time you need a fix.”

“Don’t tease me with a good time,” she jokes back. With one more snip, she steps away from you. “You have any skirts? No, of course you don’t. Jeans will have to do.”

You couldn’t hear Robin’s tangent. In the standing mirror hung on your wall, you saw someone new. Surely, she moves when you move. Her chest bounces while she breathes. That tan from the summer on the beach is touching her skin in a most devilish manor. You hold your chin a bit higher seeing what a few snips from craft scissors will do.

“Makeup!” Robin insists.

Pink rouge presses into your cheekbones. Those cheekbones you earned from your grandmother. That’s always the compliment your mother spoke. And, mascara coated thickly across your eyelashes. Your lashes are rather short, but with that black mascara you were seeing yourself glow with confidence.

Lip gloss that tasted like honey-

“In case you’re kissing any boys tonight,” she clicks the tube together with the wand. “My dear, you’re ready.”

You take a spin in the mirror.

“I hardly recognize myself,” you touch your hair.

Robin slaps your hand away. “Don’t mess that up, before Eddie gets here. Oh! And, look at the time, I should go.”

You’re left by yourself for another hour. Twiddling your thumbs, and checking your makeup by the minute. Eventually, you pop popcorn in the microwave and place the bowl in the center of the coffee table in the living room. You twist the bowl around, so you can’t see the chip on the side from when you dropped the bowl a few years ago.

Tapping your foot against the plush carpet beneath your feet, you travel between worlds where you feel ridiculous for dressing up like this, but you also feel hot.

Denim cuts at your waist, and you begin to doubt wearing jeans instead of pajamas. You never wore jeans after you got home. Eddie will surely know what’s up.

You have no time to change your mind because the doorbell rings through the quiet house. Stillness - as if moving would threaten your life somehow. Then, again, the doorbell sings.

You drag the sweat from your hands onto the back of your jeans. Jeans that you should have changed to shorts. He’ll see right through your ruse!

You settle your nerves with one more glance over in the mirror in your little entryway. When you open the front door, Eddie’s tickling the lavender your mom set out on the front porch last week.

“What? Your shirt go through a lawnmower?” Was the first thing he says.

You knew it.

“Erm-,”

“I brought the movie, and beer,” he held up the movie and a six pack he snaked off of his uncle. “Come on, I’m freezing out here.”

Eddie doesn’t ask where anything is. He’s been here so many times before, birthdays, holidays and any time your mother has just come back from the supermarket with “the good snacks.”

You knew each other for some time, which is probably why he’s never going to see you as someone other than his best friend. Why would you think about that? You had a shot, right?

“I popped popcorn,” you pointed in the living room.

“Sick,” he drops down into your couch. “We can go ahead and start the movie - the guys will be here soon.”

“The guys?” You blurt.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “Like old times?”

“Right,” the light in your eye fades, and you just hope Eddie can’t sense the hesitance in your tone.

In the next hour, your quiet date night that had been set up by your overly optimistic friend, swirls in the direction that it is always meant to be. You squish into the couch arm rest, while Gareth battles Eddie over the movie choice. Although, this time the boys came to an agreement that this was not an action movie like Robin promised Eddie earlier.

“Where’s the gore?!” Gareth flings popcorn at the television screen. “Throw her off the ledge!”

“You want to see an innocent woman flung to her death?” You snap at him.

A piece of popcorn drops from Gareth’s mouth, and into his awaiting lap. You didn’t come to raising your tone with the boys unless something truly bothers you. Clearly, by the tightness in your chest, some of the anger spills over the edge. Quite like the woman dangling the man’s waist.

“Never mind,” you stand. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”

Taking the bowl from Eddie, you stow away in the comfort of your kitchen. Before your mother left for her trip, a folded note stacked on the island told you to not bring anyone over. But, if you are going to have boys over, she asks that you use protection. She has a wild imagination if she thinks her daughter has a sex life.

She must have passed this onto you. You toss yourself at someone, who obviously holds no similar feelings as you do. This whole night was a bust. Your eyes itch from the mascara. Your lips bled from when you chewed on them like they’re your last meal. At least the color matches with your lip gloss that you reapplied many times in the bathroom when you need a break from the crowd in your living room. And, you can’t feel your waist anymore. Tingling below the belt - and for all the wrong reasons.

“You okay?” Gareth’s voice startles you.

You spin around, and he’s there standing where the carpet meets the linoleum.

A yell from the living room suggests something mortifying must have happened in the film like the boy finally kissing the girl, or perhaps saying something romantic.

“Yeah,” you blink. “Just- making more popcorn.”

Gareth doesn’t say anything about the popcorn bags sitting on the counter next to him, but the room reads itself. You scamper over to the bag, before ripping the plastic and the bag apart by accident sending kernels across the floor. Gareth meets you at the floor below.

“Shit,” you sniff. “I’ll get the broom.”

“Hey,” he grabs your arm, before you can run off again. “What’s going on?”

You sit next to the mess on the floor letting out a gust of air from your lungs that you’ve been holding onto for dear life.

“It’s stupid,” you tell him.

Gareth moves a piece of your hair from in front of your face. “What?”

You look at him for the first time. Between you two, you didn’t have to say a word he didn’t already know. Because while you’re chasing Eddie, Gareth’s warm heart is following after you. You’re blind to him before.

“Eddie’s not going to like me back, is he?” You whisper at an almost inaudible volume. Dabbing at your eye, you wipe the single tear threatening to break the damn.

Gareth sits next to you with his arms wrapped around his knees.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I think he just hasn’t woken up yet. He does talk about you a lot when your not around.”

“Really?”

“You scare him,” Gareth lets out a breathy laugh. “In a good way. He- he’s never had someone to rely on in his life besides his uncle. And, if what Eddie says is true, you’ll never truly change to please anyone. You’re loyal, and your funny. You’re beyond beautiful. The Goddesses shrivel in your light-.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“Okay, I might have added that last part,” he admits. “But, you never know if you don’t try.”

You reach out for his hand. “Thank you, Gareth.”

He squeezes your hand. “Anytime.”

You say. “And I- I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Erm- you know.”

“I guess I do,” he looks away. “I’ll be fine.”

You toss a popcorn kernel Gareth’s direction hoping to lighten the mood. Gareth snorts and tosses one back.

“We should clean up,” you tell him.

Gareth agrees. “Oh, and - when I said you don’t change, I meant it.”

You pull at your half shirt. “Yeah, I don’t think this is me. Everyone just kept telling me to stop dressing like a boy.”

“Trust me,” Gareth suggests. “You do not look like a boy.”

“Oh, shut up,” you gather yourself on your own two feet. “I don’t know - I kind of like the look, but maybe tone it down a bit?”

“I’ll get the broom,” Gareth says leaving your question unanswered. "Oh, and I promise to keep myself and the guys out of your way the next time Eddie suggests we all have a 'movie night'" at your house."

"You caught onto that?"

"It's a classic move," he sweeps. "I can't say I wasn't going to try it on you some day."

"Well, I'm sorry that it won’t work out between us," you assure him.

"I'll survive," he won’t really look at you now, only at the task at hand. "Besides, I know how great of a guy Eddie is. If you do go out with him, there’s no hard feelings."

Gareth sweeps every last kernel from the floor, then uses the dust pan to scoop them up and finally tosses them into the bin. By the time he's done scoping out every inch of your floor, you're done popping a new bag of popcorn.

The movie night continues without a hitch (aside from the merciless damning of the film coming from each of the boys in your home). Your eye on the one man, who could never look at you the way you do him. But, you don't know that for sure.

Because, as soon as you look away, Eddie's full attention is on you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson preference #angst

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junosswans · 1 year ago

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FMA sketches by Ace Attorney's character designer, Iwamoto Tatsuro

For the past week, Iwamoto-san has been posting sketches of FMA characters on his twitter as a part of his daily sketching challenge and they are absolutely BEAUTIFUL.

I really want to share his art over here and also translate his posts for you all because I think his commentaries are quite insightful for people who are interested in character design!

[Those who know their AA lore would recognize him as who voiced Edgeworth (Mitsurugi) in the games :3]

Anyways, below are his FMA sketches he's shared on twitter so far! (Contains: Ed, Hughes, Kimblee, Mustang, Breda) You can click on the dates to see their original post. I will add to this post if he shares any more sketches, it seems that he has been on an FMA roll xD

###

25/11/2023

If you draw your favourite things out you will know them better! So, this is Edward Elric from #FullmetalAlchemist.

Even if you have decided on the pose you want to draw, it is better to sketch out these three first:

the moment before the pose is struck

the pose itself

the moment after the pose is struck

then decide which image works better for your art. I learned this from a really great senior of mine, and it is very solid advice.

###

29/11/2023 (Translator's note: I decided to move this one to the top because it is my favourite. No I don't accept criticism.)

I have been drawing Ed's automail again.

I like it when the machine part has a distinctly different silhouette compared to the human body, so I added some original ideas to the design.

What design should I draw next? Perhaps I should draw the military uniform?

# (combined two posts because they’re the progression of the same piece.) #

26/11/2023

Again, it is the time of "drawing your favourite things to know them better!"

It feels so good to draw such great characters...

27/11/2023

My Photoshop has been crashing for mysterious reasons the whole morning, and I tried to troubleshoot in the afternoon and it was a PAIN. Computers are really difficuuuuuuuult--

###

28/11/2023

Iwamoto-style drawing Masterclass: Bonus!

It is the "Give the leather and metal items a bit of flare/shine to immediately make the drawing look more complete"-jutsu!

###

30/11/2023

I wanted the clothes to give off an oversized, loose impression.

Canon Hughes didn't seem to be wearing a shirt underneath... hmm.

03/12/2023

I am beginning to understand the structure of the military uniform better...

Realising the butt flap/cape didn’t actually connect to the upper jacket is a shocker to me.

###

03/12/2023

A continuation of yesterday's sketch

...or so I thought, until I realized how King Bradley and Kimblee during the Ishval war had a different overcoat design, in which they actually wore a single long coat instead of a separated upper and bottom set.

###

04/12/2023

When his clothes were unbuttoned, there was something that looked like an additional button on his right chest... I wonder if it could be fastened from the back?

(Translator's note: sorry, I have no idea what button he's referring to here lol)

###

05/12/2023

I like how each character's personality was expressed through the way they dress. Contrary to his appearance, this person was very intelligent, which makes him such a great character.

#Lia translates #tweet translation #fma #fullmetal alchemist #fmab #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #Fma translation #edward elric #roy mustang #solf j. kimblee #heymans breda #maes hughes #iwamoto tatsuro #ace attorney

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lqveharrington · 1 year ago

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Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

PROLOGUE (masterlist for series)

summary: You and Coriolanus Snow having been dating, but your father disapproves of it, leading to an Ultimatum. Will the deal be secured? Or will the 10th Annual Hunger Games ruin it all?

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: (proof read once !!) mentions of death, you and Coriolanus being oblivious, fluff, twinge of jealousy, angst, italics are flashbacks, (let me know if i missed any !!)

word count: 2k +

a/n: it’s been too long since i’ve written something. let’s hope this series does well :)

You and Coriolanus were given an ultimatum. Well, more like Coriolanus was given an ultimatum.

Ever since you were born, your father and mother wanted the best for you. Especially your father. Being born in a family belonging to the Capitol, you were already lucky, in a way. You were essentially being given everything on a silver platter. However, you were always in an optimistic mindset, even when the first Rebellion started. Your mother was the one keeping your family happy and looking on the bright side, but when she died during the Rebellion, your father completely shut the world out, including his own daughter. When the world returned to a sort of functionality, the first Hunger Games started up. As an eight-year-old with no mother, you relied on yourself and the help your father hired around the manor. Heading to school, you walked with your caretaker and occasionally the Snows joined you.

Your family used to be close with the Snow family. You remember them coming over for dinner parties and playing with their only son, Coriolanus Snow. It wasn’t until your father heard about what happened to them in the war he left them behind as the Capitol built up again. You, of course, always stood by the Snows. You visited them as much as possible growing up and when you reached Academy, you and Coriolanus became closer than ever.

“What are you doing, Coryo?” You ask, chin propped on his shoulder.

He smiled at you, “I’m trying to write my paper for English, but you are so distracting.”

You frown jokingly, “Sucks for you, I finished mine already.”

“Nice to know.” He murmured as he scribbled down a few more sentences.

You watched him for a bit before getting up, walking out of his room to find his cousin. You were always interested in her amazing skill for clothing, but another thing was on your mind at the moment.

“Tigris?” You call out, finding her sitting at the table at the front. She hummed in response, carefully hand sewing a beautiful dress. “I need advice.”

“About?”

“Well…” You take a seat across from her. “You’re a senior, right?”

“Mhm.” She pulled her dress up, looking a bit closer. You watch her focus shift from the dress to you after she placed her materials down. “What’s up?”

“You’ve like, you know… Dated someone… Right?”

“Where are we going with this conversation?” Tigris rested her head in her hands, watching your face redden. “Maybe I know where this is going. Do you like him?”

You flushed and looked down at the table. “Him who?”

“Don’t be scared, Y/N. What am I going to do? Tell my stubborn cousin? He won’t believe a word I say the second I mention your name.” Tigris spoke with an airy voice.

“Well—”

Coriolanus walked in, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I finished my paper, it didn’t take long.”

“Hey, Coryo.” Tigris smiled with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Hi?”

“Did you know that your lovely little flower, here, likes—“

“Tigris!” You glare at the seventeen-year-old. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“Oops.” She stood, wiping her dress from invisible dirt. “But, you know, out of curiosity… Coryo, do you like someone at school?”

Pink dusted his cheeks as he glanced down at you before looking at his cousin. “No.”

She squinted her eyes at him, “No?”

He shook his head, refusing to meet yours or Tigris’ eyes. She hummed and got close to both of you.

“My advice, ask them out before someone else does.”

As you both got older with the passing time, your crush on him intensified and vice versa. Tigris always asked if either one of you asked the other out, but you both always said no. On your sixteenth birthday, he asked you to be his girlfriend, which was during your third year in the Academy. Around that time, you became better acquainted with those in your class. Coryo would get jealous, but ever so subtly. Even if that meant leaving mid conversation with another one of your friends just to talk to you.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N!” Sejanus nudged your shoulder, handing you a small present.

“Thank you, Sej.” You take the gift and lightly put it in your bag. “I’ll open it later, I have a—“

“Hey, beautiful. Can I steal you?” Coriolanus appeared by your left, nodding at Sejanus.

“Coryo, I was just talking too—“

“No no, go ahead. I just wanted to give you your present.” Sejanus smiled.

“If you say so. I’ll talk to you later!” You call out to him, letting Coryo link your hands together. “I was busy.” You gave a joking pout.

“Yeah, well, I needed your attention.” He pulled you away, near the few cherry trees remaining at the Capitol. His tone sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine, but you pushed the thought away as he sat you down on a concrete bench.

“Okay, what is it?” You cross your arms and legs, looking up at him. “I promised my father I’d come straight home today.”

Coriolanus dug through his bag before handing you a small, rectangular box. You carefully took it from his hands, pulling at the small bow. You gasped at the contents of the box, a silver necklace with a rose pendant hanging at its center.

“Coryo… It’s gorgeous.” You gently took the necklace out of its container, taking a closer look. “How did you…?”

“I may or may not have found some odd jobs around the poorer parts to get money for this.” He shrugged.

You clutch the necklace in your right hand and give him the brightest smile you could muster. “I love it. I really do… Help me put it on?”

He took the necklace from your hand and unclasped it, adjusting it to your liking.

“You didn’t need to get this for me, you know? I like our usual birthday hang outs.” You say, feeling the cold from his hands emit onto your neck.

“I wanted to.” He clasped the necklace back together, bringing his head near your own. “You deserve the world.”

You turn your head, face millimeters away from his own. Your eyes flicker down to his lips before back to his piercing blue eyes which had done the same. Coriolanus held your face with his left hand, rubbing your cheek.

“Can I?” He whispered to you, earning a nod.

He pulled you close to him, planting a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled into the kiss, placing your hand on his chest.

Quickly running out of air, you parted from him, eyes fluttering open to see him. You looked at his lips and lightly laughed, rubbing your thumb on his bottom lip.

“Have I got something?” He asks, voice slightly breathy.

You hum, “Just a bit of my lipstick on your lips, nothing major.”

He rolls his eyes and pulls you into another kiss, this time, his free hand was on your waist. You made a sound of surprise before melting into the kiss as well, messing with the fabric in his suit.

“Be my girlfriend.” He says in between kisses as you ended up on his lap. “Please.”

“Of course.” You separated yourself from him, taking heavy breaths. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend, Coriolanus Snow.”

“Then I’ll gladly be your boyfriend, Y/N Lovett.” He placed one last kiss on your lips. “Now, how much lipstick is on my face?”

“A lot.” You giggle, resting your forehead against his.

Over the next few months, you told Grandma’am and Tigris that you started dating. Both were happy, but Tigris especially. She would ask about your dates and occasionally made you dresses for them.

Yet, when your father found out about you dating Coriolanus, he simply disapproved. He hated the idea that you were dating someone from a family with no money, no more power to their name. Of course, no one else knew that except Dean Highbottom and your family.

Everyday was the same battle with your father. He always commented on your behavior after learning you were with the young Snow and refused to accept the fact that you two were dating without any benefits for his own family name.

Therefore, the ultimatum was created.

“You must tell Tigris to stop making me dresses.” You fiddle with the bow on the strap.

“Do you not like them?” He squeezes your hand, the warm breeze of the summer hitting the both of you.

You shake your head, “No! No, I love them. But I don’t think she should be spending all these resources on me. I offer to pay, but she won’t—“

“You don’t need to pay. You never do.” He stops your pace, looking into your eyes.

“Coryo…” You sigh, looking around you. Deeming it was safe, you continued. “You and I both know she shouldn’t be making these for me without pay. I should at least help pay for some of the—“

“Hey hey, look at me.” Coriolanus took your face with both of his hands. “You don’t have to pay for us at all. Don’t worry about it.”

“But—“

“Get your hands off my daughter, Snow.” Your father demanded as he came out of the manor, both you and Coryo jumping at the man’s voice.

‘Sorry.’ You mouthed to your boyfriend, forgetting you were walking back to your home.

Your father clicked his tongue, “Come inside, we haven’t got all day.”

You hurry your steps to the porch of the manor, your father waiting for who knows what.

“You too, Mr Snow.” He beckoned the platinum blond over. “I doubt you don’t want to hear this conversation involving my daughter and your… Relationship.”

Your steps faltered at his words but you followed the butler into the living area, supposedly where your father wanted to discuss something. You sat on the lovers sofa as Coriolanus walked in with your father second. You gave a subtle gesture for him to sit next to you. Coryo took long strides to sit by you, still leaving a good amount of room because of your father.

“Tea?” He asked the both of you as the help walked in with a tray.

“Thank you, Em.” You take a cup of tea from her, setting it to the side.

“No, thank you.” Coriolanus waved her off a bit, hands kept to himself.

“Right.” Your father sat up straight on the couch opposite of you both. “About your relationship.”

A few beats pass.

“You both are comfortable with one another and that’s fine. But, Mr. Snow, you really aren't of any value to us at the moment.”

Your hand flexes at your side, suddenly angered by your father’s poor choice of words.

“Maybe, before the Rebellion, yes. But now, the Snows are nothing but rags disguised as designer material.”

“Is there a point to this, father?” Your eyes bore into his.

“Ah, yes. You see, I wouldn’t mind your relationship with my daughter at all if you were to somehow make your way back up. Let’s say, winning the Plinth prize. You win, I allow you to date my daughter. You lose, well, she’ll be arranged to marry another who will benefit the Lovett name.” Your father spoke with such a demeaning manner.

“Father, that’s not—“

“I’ll do it.” Coryo cuts you off, earning a wide eyed look from you. “I agree to those terms, sir.”

“Very well. May the odds be in your favor, Mr. Snow.” He got up, taking his leave. “Oh, and Y/N?”

You look at your father, a permanent scowl on your face.

“I advise you to look for other suitors before I pick for you.”

Your father finally left the two of you, your eyes snapping to the blond next to you.

“Coriolanus Snow. Are you out of your mind? Where has your brain gone?” You smack his chest in between every word before getting stopped by the male. “Let go of me!”

“You know I only agreed to it because I can do it. You know that.” He loosens his grip on your wrists. “I have healthy grades, I never miss a class.”

Your eyes gloss over, “You better win that Plinth Prize, Coryo.”

Coryo cradles your head with his hands, kissing the top of your head. “I’m not losing you. I never will.”

From that day onwards, it was a constant battle for him to be the best out of the best at Academy.

After all, Snow always lands on top.

(ask for taglist in comments or dm !!)

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seniormatchsite · 5 months ago

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meet senior singles on our site

#date #love #mature woman #onlinedating #relationship #beautiful mature #dating #oldermen #relationship advice #senior care

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nadvs · 9 months ago

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Blurb where reader and Rafe are friends but they are secretly in love with each other and they go swimming in the lake during moonlight and they end up kissing

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

content warning drug and alcohol use

You always knew that there was more to Rafe Cameron than people thought.

He had a reputation for being reckless and arrogant, but there was something about him that made you think he wasn’t as simple as the gossip made him out to be.

The summer after high school graduation was when he finally got up the courage to speak to you. He’d seen you around school and at parties. It was hard not to notice you.

He’d spent most of senior year wondering how the hell to talk to you. And the longer he delayed approaching you, the more he psyched himself out.

Finally, one night, Rafe saw you standing alone and looking bored at a house party. He chugged the rest of his beer, crossed the room, and jokingly asked if you knew that parties are supposed to be fun.

You spent the rest of the night talking, your conversation flowing so effortlessly that before you knew it, the sun was coming up. Rafe wanted to kiss you, but you left so quickly that he lost his chance.

The next time you saw each other at a party, you both got so high that you decided to run out to the beach and lie in the sand under the stars. All you did was talk - about how fast life was going by, about your plans for the future, about what life beyond the island you both grew up on could be like.

Eventually, the conversation trickled to insecurities. Why the hell you were so easy to talk to, Rafe didn’t know, but he opened up about what he hated about himself. You did the same. And neither of you agreed with the negative things you had to say about yourselves.

He wanted to kiss you, but again, he couldn’t find the right opportunity. Later on, he even resorted to bringing up other girls to you just to see if you’d be jealous. You didn’t seem fazed at all.

He was obviously just a friend to you. The tightness in his chest once he realized this was more painful than he was prepared for.

Once Rafe started asking you for dating advice, it was clear he didn’t return your feelings. You pretended to be okay with it until you eventually were.

You dealt with it because your assumption was right; he wasn’t what everyone said he was. He had a depth to him that he hid behind layers of phony self-importance. If what you had with him was purely platonic, you’d take it.

In August, one of your mutual friends planned a getaway at their family’s lakehouse over one of the last weekends of the summer.

The finality of the season ending, the knowledge that everyone will soon be going their separate ways, is an unwelcome presence wedging its way into the humid air.

You’re sitting around the bonfire with everyone on Saturday night, wood crackling and crickets chirping over overlapping conversations.

After months of friendship, Rafe thought it’d get easier to accept your lack of feelings for him. But as he watches the flames cast shadows on your pretty face, he realizes he’d rather take the hit of your rejection than the agony of never knowing if you feel something, too.

Once your friends start to retire to their rooms, Rafe waits for an opportunity to get you alone. You’re at the bottom of the stone steps leading back up to the house when his warm hand cups yours.

“Let’s swim,” he says into the warm night air.

“Are you serious?” you laugh, looking up at the moon, a crescent in the black sky.

“Don’t tell me you forgot how to have fun again,” Rafe jeers, referencing the first thing he ever said to you.

“Rude,” you say, nudging his shoulder. “I know how to have fun.”

“Then come on.” He tilts his head towards the large lake behind him.

“God,” you sigh with a roll of your eyes. But you step past him, walking towards the water, glancing back at him. “What, were you bluffing or are we actually doing this, Cameron?”

Rafe smirks to himself and follows you.

You strip down to your bra and underwear and plunge into the cold water, swimming up to the surface and shuddering from the cold.

He’s standing on the dock, boxers only, hands on his hips as he looks down at you. It gives you a moment to take in his broad frame and taut muscles in the moonlight. Being friends with him is especially hard in these moments.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” he teases, dimples deep in his cheeks.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mutter, treading water. Rafe laughs and ruffles his hair. “Wuss.”

He is a wuss, but not for the reason you think. He’s been nothing but cowardly, keeping how he feels from you for so long.

Rafe dives into the frigid water. It’s a shock to his system as he bobs up beside you, his body breaking out in goosebumps.

“Fuck,” he shudders.

“It’s painful, right?” you say, matching his laughs. “What a stupid idea.”

Rafe gazes at you, eyes dropping to your bright smile.

He’s quiet for so long that you worry you hurt his feelings. You remember him telling you that he’s insecure about his intelligence. Your heart twists with pain.

“I’m messing with you,” you say. “Sorry. It wasn’t stupid. You’re not stupid.”

This - the opinion you have of him, the way you emphasize that a joke is just a joke after he gets quiet like this - is what made Rafe fall for you. Shit. This isn’t just a crush. He’s falling for you.

“Something’s off,” you say.

“Huh?” His heart is hammering.

“You haven’t insulted me back,” you reply. “You feeling okay?”

You put a hand on Rafe’s forehead, pretending to take his temperature, and the feeling makes his stomach flip. You retreat and break contact.

“What?” you laugh after he doesn’t respond. You gaze at the water droplets scattered over his handsome face as you rock together in the cold water.

“Remember when we got shit-faced on the beach?” he asks.

You think back how loudly the waves crashed on the shore that night as you lay in the sand with Rafe, gazing at his profile while you talked about anything and everything. It was your second time hanging out. And it was unforgettable.

“Yeah,” you say.

“I don’t…” Rafe looks to the side, eyeing the cabins on the far edge of the lake, yellow lights peeking through rectangular windows. “I don’t talk with anybody like that.”

Your throat suddenly goes dry. Rafe is not one to get touchy-feely. It must be the nostalgia of the summer ending that’s making him so sentimental.

“Me, neither,” you respond honestly.

“Be honest with me,” Rafe says. The sound of water ebbing as you float together hums beneath you.

“I always am.”

“Was there…” He breathes out a nervous chuckle. “Did you ever think we’d be more than friends?”

“What?” you say, unsure you heard him right.

Rafe gazes at you through heavy-lidded eyes. The shock in your tone sends a pang of disappointment through his body.

He realizes if he continues to wait for the right time to kiss you, it’ll never come. He can’t keep waiting.

Your heart thrums as he drifts closer to you, eyes darting to your mouth. He cups your cheek and you’re in disbelief that this is happening.

“I said,” he murmurs quietly, “did you think we’d be more than friends?”

“No,” you respond. He stills. “I mean - I hoped. But I didn’t think that you…”

“You hoped?” he says. The sanguinity in his deep voice is soft, but it’s there. You know it’s there.

You nod, your eyes locked on his.

“Say it,” he tells you.

“I hoped we’d be more,” you admit. “But you were…”

“What was I?” he asks, shifting closer, his nose nudging against yours. You realize your breaths are shallow.

“You were asking me about other girls, Rafe.” His lips are inches away from yours, the anticipation twisting inside of you.

He hates himself for playing games. He lost a whole summer with you because he was too gutless to risk rejection. And he refuses to waste any more time.

Rafe’s warm lips press against yours. His touch is so much gentler than you expected. But this is what Rafe does. He surprises you, again and again.

You part your lips, deepening the kiss, head numb from the sensation he’s giving you. You’ve imagined this, daydreamed about it. But you never thought it’d be a reality.

Every time you looked at him from across the room or laughed with him or shared innocent touches, he was longing for you, too. It makes your head spin.

When you pull apart, you stare with anticipative expressions, as if you’re expecting the other to say this was a mistake.

But neither of you do. You smile and he smiles back, his thumb rubbing over your cheekbone.

“You were the girl I wanted,” he rasps.

“Were?” you say, unable to ignore the opportunity to mess with him.

Rafe huffs a laugh, his tongue jutting under his cheek.

“Are,” he corrects himself.

You take the initiative to kiss him this time and his heart buzzes. His friendship with you was a collection of hopeful maybes, but now he’s certain. He’s sure you feel the same way. And he’s not wasting another minute hiding his feelings for you.

#THIS IS SUCH A CUTE PROMPT #blurb #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron and y/n #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fic

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honey-milk-depresso · 2 years ago

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“He wonders…” TWST boys dreaming about their crush (Heartslabyul)

Ace Trappola

Ace would never admit it to you that he actually fell for you. And hard. Most of the time he just tried to cover it up by teasing you a lot. In reality, Ace can’t help but constantly dream about you all the time. And he hates it.

The thought of your laughter and smile while he drones out makes him dazed and hypnotised while in the middle of class, before he’s snapped back to reality by the teacher sharply calling for his name with a stone cold glare to wake him up.

When he’s in his basketball match and you suddenly pop up in his head in a pretty outfit while asking him out on a date, his lips subconsciously pouting a little while his cheeks darkened in red shade by just a tad bit, eyes clearly not focus… and he gets hit straight in the face by the ball.

He went to the infirmary for that one, since Floyd threw it to his face a bit to hard and it gave him a nosebleed. Ace hates it that you came to the infirmary to see him, with a worried look and nagged at him things that ring out white noise to him as he starts to dream of you again while you’re here.

The effect you have on him is very clear to Ace, that you are bold enough to run rent-free in his head almost everyday and not spare him an ounce of mercy. You’re the one teasing him all the time. That’s so unfair, as if he’s in a game he has no chance of winning.

His cheeks slowly turn red again, and he looks away. “Excuse me? Are you even listening to me? I said be careful next time!” You grabbed his face by cupping his cheeks and turning him towards you. “I was seriously worried you broke your nose!”

His dreamy thoughts of you raced in his head once more. You’ll be the death of him until he could finally utter out his confession. <3

Deuce Spade

The moment he fell for you, his teenage hormones didn’t help him even try to repress it. Once he dreamed about you, he really dreamed about you.

From how he dreamt about you on a date with him on a motorbike, or the both of you having a picnic together, to dreaming of you in a white dress… n-no wait, t-that’s too early- w-wha- “WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!” He shouted in the middle of the hallway while walking to class, suddenly embarrassed he yelled that while other students were around.

Every time he dreams of you, he makes it obvious that he is, unintentionally. Deuce would look dazed and almost vulnerable, cheeks flushed slightly pink, and most importantly, smiling stupidly to himself as his cheeks rest on his hands. Of course, Ace would take advantage of this to scare him while in this state, but even then would Ace start to get bored of it. Because he’s still not making a move.

He wants to tell you his little (very much an understatement) crush on you… but when you really face him he suddenly goes quiet and talks about everything but his confession. Not only that, he knows he dreams about you, and Deuce feels rather guilty for doing so and can’t overcome his shyness because of it.

As a result, Deuce came to his seniors for advice and all of them said the same thing: it’s better out of your system now than later. His dreams of you became more and more frequent, where he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to pursue a romantic relationship with you. “Deuce?”

Deuce blinked, suddenly realising he was with you in PE Class and he’s just sitting down looking aimlessly. “Come on, silly. Don’t doze off in the middle of class,” you smiled. He blushed, he was dreaming of you again. It’s now or never for his dreams to become reality… <3

Trey Clover

It’s not easy knowing if he’s dreaming or not, and he rarely does anyways. He doesn’t even know how could ever dream something so sappy and romantic… until he does.

Trey would only realise he ever has a crush on you the moment he realises he spent 5 minutes thinking about you without realising he was. He dreamt about how you two would bake together, smear frosting and batter on each other, laughing together as he hugs you from behind…

…Ah. He definitely has a crush on you. As much as Trey want to deny it, the thoughts of you loving him in a way that most definitely wouldn’t be classed as “just friends” is something he can’t reject either. So he sort of just… accepts the fact he does indeed have a crush on you.

Trey ultimately treats you the same: your kind upperclassman you can always come asking for his help. It’s just that he makes himself more obvious that he wants the relationship to bloom into something more, and open up parts of him you that he doesn’t often show. He can be a mischievous little guy if you really ask for it~ ofc he is I hate him Argh *kisses him* >://

When his dreams of you frolicking in a field of daisies while smiling warmly at each other with loving eyes makes him really embarrass, and it’s something Cater definitely teases him about because it’s just so sappy, he still wonders. And he wonders if you dreamt of him in similar situations. Not in a creepy way but… he’s be really happy if you do, he hopes you do. Because that way, he knows that perhaps his feelings are being reciprocated.

When the time is right, when the both of you are alone in the kitchen, when you two are fooling around with oblivious joy, to not care about what anyone says about the two of you teasing each other with frosting and toppings… he would tell you… tell you tha-

“Trey? Are you gonna tell me the recipe on what we’re baking today?” You giggled, snapping him out of his thoughts. Huh… his own dream had come true. Now it’s only a matter of time, just when it’s right. “Oh! Of course. I have a little surprise for you afterwards, I hope it makes you happy.” <3

Cater Diamond

He shamelessly dreams of the both of you on dates, taking couple selfies together, and so much more. The only thing is that Cater doesn’t tell anyone that, although Trey pretty much has a hunch of who he’s thinking about when he sighs dreamily with a love stricken smile.

Cater dreams very fondly over each selfie you took with him, dreaming that one of those selfies would have you kissing his cheek, or the other way around whichever you prefer. Every flirt he sends your way back then was always platonic, and you knew. But now, it seems that he desperately hopes you do pick up that there’s something slightly different.

He dreams you picked up on his flirts and just kiss him on the spot, he dreams you fell in love the moment he fell for you too, he dreams that one day the both of you could live together… wait- JFKSKDJF OKAY WOW- HE WENT THAT FAR HUH-

Cater smiled sheepishly to himself, blushing furiously as the sudden realisation hits him that his feelings for you has grown beyond just a crush. Like a… super crush…crush. Yeah, that’s it. That’s gotta be trending.

Trey shakes his head as he listens to Cater ranting about how stupid he is for realising (and as if Trey would have DEFINITELY immediately know he had a crush on anyone I wish it was me-/hj )and tells him he should really try to tell you since you’re not really picking up on any signs he throws in. “It’s either you do or you don’t Cater,” Trey’s words would always ring in his head.

If only he could skip pass the whole confession anxiety and cut straight into the acceptance of being in a romantic relationship. If only he could… “It’s either you do or you don’t, Ca-”

“Cater?” “Gah!” The poor boy being startled by you, causing you to flinch. “I-is there something wrong?” “Wrong? Me?? Pshhh, nah, never!” “…you’re not a very good liar right now.” He sighs, suddenly feeling his cheeks burning hot. It’s either you do or you don’t…

“Well, maybe one thing’s on my mind…” <3

Riddle Rosehearts

He dreams about you the moment he fell for you, but the latter feels quite guilty about it. He knows what he’s thinking are romantic fantasies but why does he dream of such when he shouldn’t? When you two clearly establish that you two were only friends?

His dreams of you at a tea party where your hands covered his, or how the two of you play croquet alone with one another, or how the two of you kiss under the rose shelter… no. He shouldn’t… Riddle believes that his thoughts were unacceptable, especially when you two are friends. And you think you two were only friends, right? Then he can’t.

Unfortunately his dreams turned him to spending less time with you, so that he’d stop dreaming of you in such way. Of course, it didn’t work. He dreamt of you more frequently than before, and sometimes even nightmares of you leaving from him for good. He knew deep down he wanted you to stay, but why such dreams?

“Well it’s pretty normal to feel some romantic feelings for your friend. I mean I had a crush on someone when I was a kid, of course, backfired hard and we moved on.” “Trey, that doesn’t sound like a good example.” “Aha… well, I wasn’t serious about it since I wasn’t thinking serious, but if you really are serious about those dreams you have of them, Riddle, you should just tell them. You never know, maybe they feel the same way about you, too.”

The boy pondered for a while. “You feel the same way”… what if you do? And yet again he dreams again. He made it his plan, to apologise to you and explain why he did so, and tell you he’s come to accept his feelings and confess. Simple, practical and straightforward. He just hopes you think it’s genuine, because he really is.

He’s thought of the scenario over and over again, smiling softly to himself about how you’d nod your head and throw yourself at him to hug Riddle, and- “R-Riddle..?” He perked his head up with a startled look. You were right in front of him, suddenly bumping into you. “Er… how are you?” You smiled sadly, and he remembered how he had secluded you from himself. “W-wait, y/n I… I’m sorry…” “A-about what?” With his cheeks tinted pink, he took a deep breath… <3

Reblogs help!^^

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icbgwy · 1 month ago

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the way things go ꕥ riki nishimura

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⎯‎⎯‎⎯⠀⠀⠀⠀⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀es oh es

y/n ! ( igtso ) 読み手

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀matsuzaki y/n, leader of sos and riki’s ex childhood friend who he cut off during the summer before their second year of junior high. she’s very indifferent to the whole situation, not looking back on the past as there’s nothing to change what she claim to be the inevitable. never tried to initiate a conversation with riki when around jake or minji. constantly being annoyed but jihoon and soyeon, occasionally jake but deep down she thinks his flirty banter is amusing.

[name] not y/n ( idgafsolider ) 読み手

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀matsuzaki y/n, her private account where she rants about her life and talks shit, will most likely get jumped if anything she said was leaked. the only three followers are her close friends— sunoo, sunghoon and shota. drops the mask of indifference and makes it known she’s a deeply emotional person to her friends, who never bring it up out of respect and to save her from future embarrassment and regret.

sunoo ( ksnwo ) 김선우

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀kim sunoo, y/n’s biggest fan and instigator. loves gossip, runs to y/n whenever he hears something he wasn’t supposed to or whenever someone tells him a juicy secret. he’s very popular among the student body for his sassy and outspoken personality but still sticks close to y/n. he’s very animated when around his friends, comically dramatic and expressive. others around think y/n and sunoo are dating due to how physically affectionate he is with her, but in reality they both were the first people they came out to.

sunghoon ! ( parksung ) 박성훈

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀park sunghoon, the last person to join y/n’s small circle of friends. he’s very protective of not only y/n but sunoo and shota as well as he’s considered to be the only “normal” one out of the four. he’s very wary of riki which most people chalk to up as sunghoon being riki’s rival in popularity and girls but in reality it’s due to riki’s past treatment towards y/n. dated y/n for two weeks then they realized how weird it was.

shota ( hksoul ) 白翔太

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀haku shota, only one out of the three to also be friends with riki before he switched up. y/n is his closest friend, he’s either seen by himself or next to her. prefers to keep to himself due to the language barrier. y/n’s smoking buddy as they both claim weed makes them better dancers and more sociable. tries to follow the student handbook but his autistic ass can’t help but end up in detention along side y/n who hates wearing her female school uniform.

s.o.s. ( es.oh.es ) エスオーエス

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀sos, a hip hop dance group created by y/n and shota beginning their first year of high school. the group was made due to the mandatory rule that all students must be part of a school club. sunoo, shota and y/n take it seriously as it’s something they love doing, sunghoon acts like the manager but in reality is a ghost member as every club must have a minimum of four members. it’s a win for everyone, the three get to keep their small club while sunghoon isn’t forced to participate as he’s extremely busy with his ice skating.

ִ ࣪ 𖦹 物事の進み方 ָ ࣪ ׅ

prev . masterlist . next

notes: long ass introductions but anyways im trying cook right now just be patient please plus comment! i love seeing feedback and thoughts, i want to build a community!

summary: at the start of his senior year, riki nishimura notices that everything feels off—his basketball skills are slipping, and his usual charm with girls has vanished. desperate for answers, he follows his co-captain heeseung's joking advice and visits a local shaman. she reveals the source of his bad luck: major karmic debt. to regain his balance, riki must make amends for his broken and abandoned childhood friendship with the one girl who truly knew him, y/n matsuzaki.

tag list ( open ): @tasnemluvs @elegancefr @jiiyen @skepvids @enhypenlovre @mylettterstoyou @delirioastral @who-tf-soddhi @aespaqq @nat123c @nodoubtily @right-person-wrong-time @beijinkaoya @awhrin @ami-soph

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atzhrts · 1 month ago

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hello i love your work sm!! i’m new to this requesting thing but could i request a ricky x idol reader au? i could totally see them meeting through another chinese idol like chenle (like the china line groupchat!) thank you so much!

— mochi

hii!! tysm!! (i have no idea if nct dream was at mama 2024 but for this plot they were!)

　　　　⠀˖　⠀˙⠀　｡ idol!ricky x idol!reader ⠀˖　⠀˙⠀　｡　⠀

you just recently debuted, mama 2024 being your groups first big schedule. needless to say you were incredibly nervous until you ran into two of your fellow idol seniors. you knew of them but you didn’t know you’d get to know them so early into your carier but it turns out chenle is quite the chatterbox. the both of them made you feel incredible comfortable during such an eventful night and you were extremely grateful. however you only managed to catch chenles number as he was the only actually sitting close to your group during the event, ricky having already left once you got to his groups seat.

and ricky thought you were so gorgeous from the first time he saw you and he could’ve actually screamed when he realised he never got your number or any way to get in contact with you. so he swallowed his pride and asked chenle if he could forward your number, not without being teased of course

the two them texted every night, ricky wishing you luck before every single performance even the once you didn’t tell him about and congratulating you on your first win, sending flowers to your dorm “congrats pretty im proud of you “. you telling him how good he did after each tour stop and listening to him rant about his company.

sends you flowers every opportunity he gets, he loves your reaction to it even if its just over text most of the times. would also send you one with a little note saying “be my partner?” (but he’d also ask you face to face at a nice picnic date )

values your fashion advice so much and vice versa. whenever you spend another late night talking about what you like and what would suit him best he mentally takes notes to bring it up to his stylist. telling them that someone close to him whose opinion he really values told him he would look good in this and that and if they could do that for his next outfit.

the two of you incorporate pieces of each others outfit in your own, ricky wears you favorite ring on his necklace and you get to wear his earrings.

whenever you have a concert in a chinese speaking country he would teach you some good sentences, looking at you like you put the stars in the sky when he hears you speak his mother tongue.

you’d never pay for dinner, like you would physically have to fight him to get his card away

takes you on so man picnic dates during the evenings, watching the sunset together and later gazing at the stars. kissing when you see a shooting star and telling each other you wished to spend the rest of your life with each other

he sometimes plays your groups songs in the back of his lives acting like he doesn’t see all the comments about a y/n x ricky interaction.

the fans then proceed to make little compilations of all of your interactions, ricky looking at you lovingly during a tiktok challenge, you mouthing their lyrics during one of their award performances, the two of you coincidentally making the same pose for fans and giggling with each other once you find out, you looking away shyly whenever ricky meets your eyes.

definitely post memes about the two of you like „the bad bitch i pulled by being a cutie patootie“

#anon <3 #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone scenarios #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone x you #zb1 soft hours #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 x reader #zb1 x you #zb1 x y/n #shen ricky imagines #shen ricky x reader #shen ricky scenarios

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miryum · 6 months ago

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"Negotiation"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

“L/n,” Wayne rapped his fist on Y/n’s desk urgently. “There was a botched B&E at a jewellery store on Benbrock that just turned into a hostage situation.” He sighed and said, “they want you to be the negotiator.”

Y/n gasped and let out a strangled noise of excitement. “Oh my God, my prayers have finally been answered!”

“You pray for a hostage situation?” Jason asked incredulously.

“Yes, I did.” Y/n turned to him, serious as stone. “Every single day.”

Jason frowned, more concerned for the hostages after they heard Y/n’s jokes than Y/n herself. He knew she could handle herself. ”I don't understand. Why isn't ESU handling this?”

“Apparently, the hostage-taker asked for Y/n by name.” Wayne raised a brow and stared down at his detective like she had an answer.

“Oh, it's getting even cooler!” Y/n hummed and contemplated, “man, I wonder who it is. Maybe it's the sister of someone I put away for life. Ooh! Or the identical twin of someone I put away for life. Ooh! Or the fraternal twin of-”

Captain Wayne cut off her tangent. “L/n! Just get down there! And take Drake with you.”

“You got it!” Y/n beamed and jumped up. “Yep, yep, yep.” She turned to Tim who had come to stand next to her. “How do I look? Police-y enough?” She waved him off before he could answer. “It doesn't matter. Let's go negotiate!”

When Tim and Y/n got the the jewellery store, the block was closed off and police cars were surrounding the building, sirens going on and off periodically. Y/n waltzed up to the area and pronounced, “don’t panic, everyone, I'm here.” An officer beckoned her over and Y/n introduced herself. “I'm Y/n L/n, the negotiator.”

The man stared at her, unimpressed. “So you're Y/n L/n?”

“The negotiator, yes. And… who are you?”

“Arnold Flass, ESU. This was my crime scene before you bozos got here.”

Tim sipped on his coffee before noting, “nice to meet you too, Arnold.”

“I've spent ten years as a negotiator and you just took my first hostage situation,” Arnold exclaimed. “All I've done up until now is talk jumpers off of rooftops.”

“Well, that must be satisfying in its own way, right?” Y/n offered. Tim walked off to talk to a more senior, professional officer.

Arnold scoffed. “Yeah, really satisfying saving a crazy person's life. Here's a little advice: I don't like you.”

“Not so much advice as a hurtful statement based on limited interaction,” Y/n muttered.

“He wants to talk to you,” Tim came back and motioned to Y/n.

Arnold rolled his eyes and ripped the label off his vest. He handed it to Y/n begrudgingly. “Get the hell in there.”

“Oh, it says ‘negotiator’ on it.” Y/n happily put it on and weaved through the crowd of officers and bystanders. She took a bullhorn from a cop and called into it, “this is Y/n L/n. I am unarmed and I'm approaching the building.” The door swung open ominously and Y/n glanced back at Tim. He gave her a nod of encouragement. “You wanted to talk to me?” Y/n stepped into the jewellery store, peeking around the corner.

“Keep those hands in the air,” a voice commanded. Then, in a lighter tone, the voice joked, “and wave 'em like you just don't care.”

“What?” Y/n’s brows furrowed, confused.

The hostage-taker finally came into view. “I'm just messing with you, L/n.” Roy Harper grinned. “Put your hands down, give me a hug, darling.”

“Roy!”

“Okay, so are we gonna talk about it?” Steph slipped into the seat next to Jason and leaned on his desk.

“Nope.”

“Todd, you frustrate me,” Damian said. Steph blinked at him, not realising he was listening in.

Jason’s chest clenched. “There is nothing we need to talk about.”

“I disagree,” Damian muttered.

“Listen,” Jason turned away from his computer and Steph knew that it was about to get real. “I just went out on another date with Rose. She’s a lovely girl and I was thinking of taking it to the next step. I’m planning on asking her to be my official girlfriend tomorrow night.”

Steph shook her head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work. You see, my big plan in life is to push you and Y/n together so you can all be happy and possibly make even cuter babies.”

Jason blushed and swallowed thickly. “I’m not interested in L/n.”

Damian scoffed. “Brown, we have a lie detector at the precinct, correct?”

Steph grinned, eyes lighting up with mischief. “Hey…. Richard!” she called to Dick. “Wanna have a little fun?” Dick looked up, beaming impishly.

“I gotta admit, man,” Roy said, shrugging. “I thought you'd be more happy to see me. Why’re you being so weird?”

“Oh, I don't know.” Y/n pursed her lips together. “I didn't sleep well last night, so I’m just tired. Oh, and also, this is a hostage situation!”

“Wow!” Roy sucked in a dramatic breath. “It's like that.”

“Yes, it's like that. What the hell, man? You called me, remember? You promised me that you wouldn’t do anything to wind up in jail!” Y/n referenced the time when Roy called her in the middle of the night to promise to stop his life as a criminal.

“I didn’t! I work at Tiffany and Co. now.” He rested a proud hand on his chest. ”I sell luxury jewels to the rich and famous and I do it legally. Last week I sold a sapphire necklace to the dude who played Johnny in Hotel Transylvania.”

“You met Johnny?” Y/n exclaimed. “Was he cool? Does he actually like vampires in real life? Wait- no.” She caught herself. “We’re not chatting right now. You have three hostages.”

“You mean Pam and the two Bobs?” Roy looked at the three people on the floor, rope loosely tied around their wrists. “They’re not hostages. I prefer to call them ‘collateral friendships.’ I gave them each one hundred bucks out of my own pocket.”

One of the Bobs spoke up. “Thanks again, Roy.”

The other Bob nodded his head in agreement. “You’re the man, Roy.”

Pam stuttered, “a-actually, I'd rather not be a hostage.”

“Pam hasn't come around to me yet.” Roy shrugged. “Tell her I'm a nice person, Y/n.”

“I'm so sorry,” Y/n said to Pam.

“Officer, are you friends with this criminal?” Pam asked, aghast.

Y/n’s nose scrunched up. “Not really…”

However, Roy replied at the same time, “absolutely, best friends.”

“It's a layered relationship, Pam,” Y/n defended.

“Best friends,” Roy corrected.

”Harper,” Y/n hissed, pulling him towards the door. “What is going on, dude?”

“This isn't my fault, darling!” Roy protested. “Two years ago before I went straight, I stole a big ruby from a drug dealer: Jack Napier.”

“Oh, no, Roy.” Y/n groaned. ”He's a bad guy.”

Roy whined, “I know! When I realised it was his jewel, I torched the briefcase it was in along with the drugs that were in there! Who the hell puts drugs and rubies in the same briefcase?!”

“Oh, no, Roy,” Y/n groaned in the same pitch as before. ”Briefcase drugs?”

“Millions of dollars of them! Napier just found out it was me. Said I had to do a job for him to pay off my debt.”

“But did you tell him you went straight? Did you tell him about Johnny?” Y/n asked desperately.

“I did. He said he didn’t watch Hotel Transylvania.”

“Oh, this guy is the worst.”

“I know.” Roy’s voice turned desperate and low. “L/n, he said he's gonna kill Lian if I don't do this job.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. “He can't do that. I won’t let him do that. The GCPD can help you guys. We can put you in witness protection!”

Roy shook his head. “I can’t mess up my daughter’s life ‘cause of my mistakes. That's why I'm here stealing this big ‘ole bag of rubies; to make up for the one I stole. Y/n, you know how dangerous this guy can be.” He took a breath. “I need you to help me save my daughter.”

“How can I help?” Y/n responded immediately.

“Easy. I have a plan that's good for everyone. All I need is for you to-”

“-let him go so he can arrange a drop with Napier.” Y/n explained Roy’s plan to Tim. “We arrest Napier, save Lian, Roy turns himself in, and why is that amazing, Tim?”

“Napier’s a huge crime boss,” Tim answered.

“Aaaand what else?”

“GCPD's been trying to get Napier for years.”

“And?”

“That's it.”

“Yeah, it is.” Y/n said, “so, since we all agree, I'll go tell Roy the plan is on.” She swung around to go back inside, but Arnold stopped her.

“No, we don't all agree. He's trapped and frantic. Everything he told you is a lie.”

“Why do you say he's lying?” Y/n asked.

Arnold frowned. “That's all negotiating is. Two liars lie until one liar stands too close to the window and gets shot in the head.”

Y/n scoffed loudly. “That can't be all negotiating is!” She noticed Tim’s head lolling to the side. “Timmy, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but have some more coffee.”

“It absolutely is. Now, get in there and coax him to a window.” Arnold pressed a button on his walkie talkie. “Snipers to one. The window plan is on. I repeat: The window plan is on.”

“No, no, no, no, no!” Y/n cried and tugged the walkie talkie away from Arnold. “Snipers to zero! Snipers take a nap. The nap plan is on. It's nap time, snipers!”

A couple minutes later, Y/n regretfully told Roy, “ESU won't take your deal. They think you're lying.”

“I'm not lying!” Roy gasped dramatically, offended. “I don't wanna be a criminal. I love my life as an average citizen. I voted for the first time this year! It was huge. Lian helped me fill in the little boxes. She chose Ed Breakfast for school board.”

“Who?”

“I don't know,” Roy muttered. “He had a funny name. He deserves a shot.”

“That's exactly why I voted for Stacy Ladle! Anyway, I'm sorry, but they're not cutting a deal.”

“So that's it?” Roy sighed. “I gotta turn myself in and let Napier kill Lian? You’ll take care of her, right?”

Y/n’s heart broke and she could feel a plan formulating in her mind. “Actually… there might be another way.”

“Alright, Todd.” Dick strutted in front of Jason. “We’re gonna do this one time and one time only. Do you have feelings for Y/n?”

“Are you shitting me?” Jason’s head fell into his hands. He was strapped to a lie detector test that Steph was currently monitoring. “We’re actually doing this?”

“Yep!” Dick said. “We have to know. Now, let’s go over the evidence.”

Damian wheeled in a large cork-board which was covered in index cards, push pins, and signature red string. The index cards said things like: ‘Halloween incident,’ ‘Valentine’s Day nicknames,’ ‘1000 pushups blanket,’ ‘googly eyes,’ ‘lack of dates,’ and more.

As Jason read over the cards, his face slowly got more and more red. Dick gleefully snapped a polaroid picture of Jason’s current face and secured it to the board, adding it as another factor of evidence.

Roy shouted from the doorway of the jewellery store. “I've taken your negotiator hostage! If you come in here, I will shoot her.”

Y/n wailed, “just do whatever he says! My life is in his hands! Please!”

Roy slammed the door behind them and then broke out in giggles. “That was so much fun!”

“Oh, man, you sounded really scary.” Y/n exhaled.

“No, no, it was all you. The tremble in your voice sold it. ‘Just do whatever he says.’” Roy mimicked Y/n’s panicked voice

“I mean, I just made that up. Ah, I was so in the moment.” Y/n silently praised herself on her acting skills.

“Darling, seriously? You are a great hostage,” Roy complimented.

“Aw, thanks, Harper. You're a great hostage-taker.”

Outside, Arnold was talking to Tim, lamenting, “I can't believe L/n got taken hostage. The good news is… I'm now the negotiator. Finally!” He slapped another marker labelled ‘negotiator’ on.

“Congratulations,” Tim said dryly.

“I've been waiting for this moment for so long!” Arnold exclaimed.

Roy’s voice from the bullhorn cut him off. “I'm ready to negotiate. But I'll only talk to Tim Drake.”

“That's me, Arnold.” Tim ripped Arnold’s label off and placed it on himself.

“Oh, come on!”

“Welcome, my man!” Roy waved to Tim when the latter entered the store. “I don’t think we’ve met before, have we? I’m Y/n’s bestie. I’m a hugger; bring it in.” He walked over to Tim with open arms.

Tim, however, yanked on one of those arms and looped it over Roy’s head, effectively holding him in place. “Roy Harper, you're under arrest.”

“Holy fuck, Tim’s strong?” Y/n mumbled. “But he’s so lanky and only runs on coffee. Wait, Tim, stop.”

“What's going on?” Tim grunted as he tried to place cuffs on Roy.

“Look, this is not really a hostage situation. I mean, Pam and the two Bobs are definitely being held against their will, but not for much longer.”

Roy spoke up, trying to be helpful. “Y/n’s helping me take down Napier.”

“We can't do it without you,” Y/n pleaded.

“Seriously, L/n?” Tim scoffed. “Isn’t this the guy that you and Cass tried to take down? The one you did a thousand push ups for?”

“You did a thousand push ups for me?” Roy cooed.

“Not important.”

“This is like that story my dad told me as a little kid. He used to quiz me on fables from different cultures.” Tim said, finally releasing Roy. “You're the frog and he's a scorpion. You're gonna help him across the river. In the end, he'll sting you. And then you'll both drown.”

“Geez, that's dark.” Y/n grimaced.

“Yeah, I’d never tell Lian that story,” Roy said.

“My parents didn't read to me at all,” Y/n commented. “I just watched cartoons ’till I fell asleep. Do you think that our childhoods shape the adults we become?” She hummed thoughtfully.

“They do,” Roy and Tim said at the same time.

“And cartoons shaped you into a naive little frog,” Tim said.

“Okay, first off,” Y/n held up a finger. “Little frogs are adorable, and second, he's not that kind of scorpion anymore.”

“I'm a changed bug,” Roy said.

“Actually, scorpions are arthropods.” Tim and Y/n spoke together. Tim looked at her, surprised. “What?” She shrugged. “I listened to the documentary you made us watch. Tim, I know he used to be a criminal and has fooled me in the past, and yes, he is currently engaged in criminal activity.”

“Innocent until proven guilty,” Roy reminded Tim. “But yes, I technically am robbing the store.”

“But, Tim, his daughter is in danger and we have to help her. He agreed to turn himself in when this is all over. Right, Roy?” Y/n scrutinised him.

“I promise.”

Tim sighed. “Cass warned me about him. But okay. What do you need from me?”

“We have an airtight plan.” Roy grinned. He poked the bullhorn out of the door and shouted, ”all we demand is pizza!”

“I’m in a relationship with Rose,” Jason insisted.

“You’re not answering the question!” Dick exclaimed, growing more frustrated.

“That’s because the question is stupid and doesn’t need to be answered!”

“Todd, you must have lost half your brain if you think you’re fooling us.” Damian didn’t look impressed.

“Jason,” Steph exhaled. “By not answering the question, you’re answering the question.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t make sense.” Jason shot back lamely.

“It’s okay to have feelings for L/n.” Steph said, oddly calmly. “You’re not admitting defeat.”

“No, I’m aware, but just…” he sighed heavily and stared down at the table. “What if she doesn’t like me back?”

Steph slowly shut off the computer and the lie detector. Damian had a rare look of sympathy glazing over his eyes. “But she does,” Dick said softly. “She’s told all of us herself. Right, guys?” he asked his friends.

“If I had a nickel…” Steph smiled and huffed, trailing off.

“She’s interrupted many movie nights with tangents of you,” Damian frowned at the fact. He had yet to finish The Gladiator because of Y/n.

“We'll be safe here,” Roy directed Y/n towards a small, neon-lit shop. Tim had provided them a distraction long enough for Roy and Y/n to sneak away. Tim said he would meet with them later. “I know the owner. He'd never turn me in.”

“Yeah,” Y/n nodded along knowingly. “I have the same relationship with the guy who runs this laser tag place I love. I- I mean, gun range.”

Roy chuckled. “L/n, why’re you lying to me, huh? I love laser tag! We gotta go sometime, darling.” He led her inside the place and to a back room which had a large screen and a karaoke machine plugged in and ready to go.

Y/n beamed. “I was hoping you'd say that. Alright, let's text Napier and set up the drop.”

“Okay, yeah. ‘Got the diamonds. Let's meet.’” He clicked his phone and the message was sent. “Done.”

“Okay, now we wait.” She clicked her tongue and hummed. “You know, it’s kinda weird, sitting silently in a private karaoke room, not singing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “But we're on a mission, so, you know, we gotta stay focused.”

“True, true, true, true, true, true.”

“So I wake in the morning and I step outside and I TAKE a deep breath and I GET! REAL! HIGH! And I scream at the top of my lungs ‘WHAT’S GOIN’ ON?’” Roy sang in a falsetto as Y/n accompanied him in a lower tone.

In the middle of the song, Roy’s phone dinged and he paused the song. “Ugh. It’s Napier.”

Y/n pouted in disappointment. “Yeah….”

“The drop is set for 5:00 p.m.” Roy informed her.

“Let's do this.”

“Totally. Although…” Roy shot Y/n a knowing look. “That is an hour and a half from now.”

“And the drop point is actually pretty close to here,” Y/n added.

“So..."

“DANCING QUEEN! YOUNG AND SWEET! ONLY SEVENTEEN OOOOOOOH…”

Tim walked into the room and slowly sipped on his coffee, looking more tired than ever.

“I feel more sympathy for our perps now.” Jason ripped the lie detector off himself.

“Can you please just admit that at some point, past or present, you’ve had feelings for Y/n L/n?” Dick begged. They had spent over three hours in the interrogation room, grilling Jason on his feelings and not getting any work done.

“If it makes you let me go, then yes.”

“I’ll take it!” Steph cried. “It’s close enough!”

“I still say I could’ve made fine use out of a pair of pliers.” Damian glared at Jason. Jason couldn’t help but shudder under his stare.

“Torture me all you want,” Jason said. “But I don’t like Y/n like that. She’s like a sister to me. We’ve worked together for over four years. I don’t love her romantically.”

If he had still been connected to the lie detector, its lines would’ve jumped widely.

Steph said quietly, “just know this: to remember is to love.”

Roy explained the plan to Tim and Y/n in the parking lot where Napier would meet them. “First, a jeweller will come out and inspect the rubies. Then, when he gives the okay, Napier will come and get them.”

“And then I'll take him down.” Y/n cracked her knuckles dramatically.

“Here we go,” Roy mumbled as an expensive car pulled up and a thin man got out. Harper, Drake, and L/n got out of Y/n’s old car and Roy greeted, “What's up, dude? Did anybody ever tell you that you look like the most interesting man in the world? You get that a lot?” After an awkward silence, Roy inhaled sharply. “Geez, I get it. We're not friends.”

The thin man held out his hand and Roy placed the sack of small rubies in it. The man inspected a random ruby and then nodded. Another man got out of the car and Roy said, “There he is. Napier! What's up, Mr. Napier? How’re you doing?” Napier’s car pulled away to give them some privacy.

“Shut up.” Napier licked his lips. “Give me the rubies.”

A new voice shouted from the other end of the parking lot. “L/N!”

Y/n cringed. “No, no, no, not now.”

Arnold yelled out, “I tracked your phone, idiot. I knew you were working with this criminal! You were gonna double cross us!”

Y/n’s head whipped back to Napier, but he was already running down the street, phone pressed to his ear, likely calling his driver.

Arnold gasped. “That's Napier. Harper wasn’t lying. Well, we gotta arrest him!” Arnold grabbed Y/n’s vest and pulled her back.

“Y/n, he's running!” Tim cried, already in pursuit of Napier.

“Lemme go!” Y/n tried to yank away.

“Only if I get the collar and one hundred percent of the credit.” Arnold growled.

“Are you negotiating right now?”

“Always.”

“Okay, that was actually a really cool line. Deal. Let’s do it.” She pointed harshly at Roy. “Stay. Here.”

“Okay.” Roy shrugged.

Y/n and Arnold ran off after Napier, catching up to Tim. “GCPD!” Tim shouted. “Stop and put your hands in the air!” Napier continued running and Tim groaned. “Why don’t they ever listen?”

“Drake,” Y/n swerved towards another street. “I’ll block him off!”

“Not without me, you won’t!” Arnold changed direction and sprinted after Y/n.

Napier’s eyes grew wide when he saw Y/n and Arnold appear ahead of him. He glanced over his shoulder and when he saw Tim, still in pursuit, he cried out in frustration. Y/n tackled him to the ground and threw handcuffs on him. After she was done Mirandizing him, she apologised to Arnold. “Sorry I ran out on you at the jewellery store. But I couldn't let this guy get away.”

“Look, I'm fine with it.” Arnold said. “Arresting Napier’s gonna get me a promotion and at the end of the day, that's what this is all about.”

Y/n squinted at him. “Right, that and getting a major drug lord off the streets.”

“Yeah, right. I don't care about that.”

Y/n stared at him, wide-eyed before brushing him off. “Whatever. Let's bring in Roy Harper.” She left Napier with Tim and ran back to the parking lot. Finding it empty, she cried, “Oh, fucking hell! Where is he? Roy? Roy?!”

Arnold saddled up behind her. “Don't worry. We'll get him. At least we have Napier and the rubies.”

Y/n simply shouted, “Roy!”

“Why are you still calling for him?”

“ROY!”

Arnold realised, “oh my God, he has the rubies, doesn't he?”

“Roy!” Y/n quickly composed her wits and muttered to herself, “I'm sure Harper didn't run off with the rubies. I bet he's looking for me right now. You know what, I bet he's worried that I’m in trouble!” She frantically pulled out her phone. “I'll just call him and put his mind at ease.”

Arnold raised a brow. “Lady, he's already gone.” He placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder and Y/n pushed him off, giving him an icy glare. “He's not gonna picking up.” Y/n’s jaw clenched at Arnold’s words.

Suddenly, Roy’s voice filtered through her phone and she breathed a sigh of relief. “What's up, L/n?”

“Ha!” Y/n pointed a victorious finger at Arnold. “He did pick up. In your-”

“This is goodbye forever,” Roy cut her off.

“No!” Y/n stomped her foot. “I can't believe you deceived me. I can't believe you used my love for Lian against me.”

“I love that you love her.”

“Of course I do! She’s the living embodiment of the reminder that childhood innocence never dies.”

“Amen,” he agreed. “But, I wasn't lying though. Napier was gonna hurt her and you saved her life. Buuuut then I was all alone with the rubies and next thing I know, I'm hotwiring a car and driving away.

”But I thought you liked being a good citizen? You voted Ed Breakfast for school board!” Y/n whined.

“And he immediately had a sex scandal.” Roy reminded her. “It was very disillusioning.”

“Understandable. Our democracy is crumbling. But, Roy, this is not what we’re talking about. They could take my badge!”

“Tim was right.” Roy smiled faintly. “I'm a scorpion. I thought you knew me better by now. I'm sorry I can't be the man you want me to be.”

“Damn it, stop being so romantic.” Y/n choked on her words and begged, “now turn around and come back to me, you fool?” The line clicked and she called, “hello? Hello? He's gone…. He broke my heart.” Tim walked up behind her as her lip quivered theatrically. She turned towards her fellow detective and hugged him tightly. “Now you tell me everything's gonna be okay, Timmy boy!”

“Everything's gonna be okay,” Tim reassured monotonously.

“You don't know that, Tim!”

“I just got off the phone with the brass,” Captain Wayne said to Y/n. “It doesn't look good. They're still trying to decide on a punishment for your actions.”

Y/n sniffed and asked meekly, “Did you tell them I feel so bad I have a tummy ache?”

“I did. They were unaffected.”

“Are you sure it’s not cramps?” Jason pushed a box of chocolate towards his coworker. “It is your time of the month.”

Y/n grimaced in disgust. “It’s creepy that you know that.”

“Not really,” Tim said. “You, Steph, and Cass have all synced up. We all know when to have desserts in our desks.”

“I think even Kori is synced up to you guys,” Dick added. “Somehow.”

“So no.” Damian spoke up. “In this instance, Todd isn’t creepy.”

Y/n looked up at Wayne as if to ask his opinion on this matter. All he said is, “I have no comment to add in this conversation. Back to the topic at hand, the brass said they could’ve justified your tactics if you'd gotten Napier and the rubies, but as things stand, there are no rubies.” He sighed and said, “you're looking at a suspension, maybe worse. Unless you can track down Harper and recover those rubies.”

“Can they wait twelve months?” Y/n asked hopefully. “I usually run into him about once a year.” Her eyes caught on something on her desk. “Wait a minute. What doth we have here?”

Y/n walked into the karaoke place and looked around hesitantly. “I've got this coupon for a private room?”

“Yep,” a worker said. “Right this way. We already have a song cued up for you.”

The screen blinked on as soon as the worker left the room and a large picture of Roy Harper with Lian on his hip showed up.

Y/n shook her head and muttered, “Harper.”

“What's up, L/n?” the recording asked happily. “Thank you so much for coming. So, I thought about it and I think I did you dirty. I never meant to cause you any trouble.”

“Yeah, well, you caused me a lot.” Y/n kicked at something at her feet.

Roy chuckled and said, “you're talking to a pre-recorded video, but it's cool. I know what you're saying. I hear you in my heart,” he said emphatically.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “What am I doing here?” she asked herself.

“I feel the same way,” the recorded Roy placed a hand to his heart. “You’re my best friend too.” He nodded thoughtfully and said, “look, I'm not coming back. We started a new life here in San Diego.” He jostled Lian who was giggling on his hip.

Y/n shook her head, grinning. “It’s stupid telling me where you are.”

“Come on, darling, I’m not in damn San Diego.” Roy laughed loudly. “Everybody knows that place sucks! But, I got you a little something as a going away gift. It's on the table next to you.”

Y/n opened the small velvet sack and gasped. “The rubies. Yes! I- I can’t believe you actually brought them back…”

“The rubies!” Roy cried from the screen.

Y/n let out a lighthearted laugh. “Yeah, you mistimed that one.”

“No, you're the best. Look, even though I am a scorpion, I will never drown your adorable little frog ass. So that's all I gotta say.” He glanced down at Lian who was smiling happily, staring at something in the distance. “I'm sure I'll see you again at some point,” Roy said, his eyes softening. “But for now, that coupon you got there, that's for a full hour in a private room. So…”

“Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia, let me go! BeeLZEbub has a devil put aside for meeee… for meeee! For meEEEEEEEEEE!” Lian sang along as Roy and Y/n banged their heads to the music.

#title of your sex tape #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc x reader #dcu #detectives au #b99 #b99/dcu #slow burn

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