#so i'd love to hear your thoughts on how this could go lmao
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Let It Happen (LH43) 2/3
Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader
WC: 17k
>PART ONE<
Turn me into something tragic, just for you I let it happen.
General Warnings: after the first part you're probably thinking how could there possibly be more snark? you're about to find out. same with idiotic shenanigans, they're not quite finished with those!! fluff, cursing, sexual references, and fade to black type smut!!
A/N: DON'T HATE ME FOR MAKING IT 3 PARTS I'M JUST AN ADHD GIRLY WHO CAN'T READ 30K IN ONE GO BUT APPARENTLY CAN WRITE IT??? part three will be tomorrow I pinky promise!! I was nervous about splitting this whole thing up bc I really did write a whole romcom lmao!! I know long fics aren't to everyone's taste but I know no way of life other than the art of yapping!! Sorry that this took a little longer than expected there were a couple of scenes I couldn't get right but I hope you guys like this half as much as you did the first part!! and again I'd love to hear any thoughts!! reading your messages and your reblogs and your tags made my month and ily a lot!! like I said, I promise part 3 will be tomorrow, I didn't want to force so much at you in comparison to the first part!!
“I’m bored.”
Luke hadn’t thought he would regret staying at home when he had told Jack he wasn’t feeling well enough to drive out to Detroit for the Zach Bryan concert - if anything, it was an effort to push him and Ellie a little closer. She took Luke’s place, roomed with Jack in their hotel and everything, and they seemed to be having the time of their lives in all the videos dispersed into the group chat. But that was all before he came downstairs, eyes on the pictures of the all-you-can-eat breakfast the group were partaking in before coming back, and opening the kitchen cupboards to see them bare, with a few protein bars and boxes of granola tossed in like they’d been ransacked for the apocalypse.
He’d had fun last night, though.
Even after the movie had ended, when the two of you had stayed up on the couch, talking about life - about hockey, about school, about his brothers, about your mom - if he’s honest, it had been the closest he had felt to another person that wasn’t one of his brothers in a really long time.
He really felt like you were connecting.
So much so that he’d retired to his bed for the first time all summer with a big, dopey grin on his face. Had laid awake scrolling through astrological compatibility after the two of you had drifted onto that topic after the movie finished, talking for maybe two hours before you had yawned so big he thought you might swallow him whole.
He had thought he knew you, before.
Had thought that those brief observations made from back in college, about your coffee preferences, your perfume collection, your taste in music, had painted a somewhat blurry picture of who you were - of all the things that blended together to formulate you - but he had been so wrong.
And he had laid in bed last night thinking much deeper about the girl who was laying only a couple rooms down the hall - a few walls away.
The girl who had come downstairs, bare feet padding softly into the kitchen, and had poured out two glasses of juice and handed one over to him without even asking.
“Hi Bored, I’m Luke,” he smiles as he accepts the drink from your hand, the expression deepening as you roll your eyes back at him, this time with a glimmer of fondness slipping through the surface of your facade.
You reach past him into the cupboard for the box of granola, and he grabs one of the protein bars before closing it, your bodies moving around each other in tandem like a well choreographed routine - easy and effortless in a way that calms whatever nerves he might have had around this new development in your relationship being one-sided.
You had never seemed uncomfortable in the house, or around the rest of the guys, but you had never been like this.
“I was thinking,” you drag out, voice sweet and alluring, like you even have to put it on to convince Luke of anything, “we could go out on the boat,” you glance back at him as you pour out your cereal, lashes fluttering to complete the act, “You have your license right?”
“Yeah,” he replies, settling himself down to lean at the kitchen island as you cross to the other side, taking one of the stools, “But I’m not really supposed to take it out on my own.”
You hum as if you’re thinking, crunching your food before asking, “Is that brotherly advice or is that the law?”
“Advice, I guess,” he shrugs, pushing forward ever so slightly onto his forearms, where he can feel the tense of his muscles, and can see the diversion of your attention.
“And you always do what your brothers tell you?”
When you tilt your head, the sun shining through the kitchen window reflects on your irises, making them sparkle, and he can see all the different hues in there, as if you’re using the elements to try hypnotise him into compliance.
You’re so pretty, you don’t even need the special effects.
“I’m a good boy,” he smiles teasingly, with a tilt of his own head, driven by infatuation and admiration, keeping your gaze and trying not to shudder visibly when your eyes drop to his lips.
“You wouldn’t be on your own, though,” you pout, “I’d be there. I was a lifeguard for the past three summers, you know.” Of course he knows. “I promise I’ll save you if you get thrown overboard.”
You don’t have to say the following sentiment that the two of you share - that if he were to be thrown overboard, it would undoubtedly be by your own hand.
“Yeah, you’d give me mouth to mouth?”
You scoff, leaning down onto your forearms and mirroring his position, careful not to knock your bowl. “Unfortunately for you, Hughes, they don’t advise the use of that method, anymore.”
“And you always do what people tell you?”
It’s one of his favourite things to do with you, he’s noticed - turn the tables, use your own wit against you. It gets him a reaction, every time. A rush of something real that washes over you, has you fixing your shoulders and biting back a smile.
Although you don’t bite this one back. Luke doesn’t think that you could, even if you tried. Your eyes even crinkle a little in the corners, and Luke doesn’t see the danger in it - too lost in the way they reflect the glorious sunshine back at him in dazzling sparkles - until one drops in a wink as you retort, “I’m a good girl.”
Touché.
He thinks his heart might have skipped a beat. He can all of a sudden feel every last crumb of the previous bite he took from his protein bar lodged in his throat, and he needs a drink, so he pushes himself up from the counter to try at least gain a height advantage over you, and forces down some gulps of his juice.
The look you’re giving him isn’t doing him any favours - the height difference working against him as your eyes look up to meet his, round and pleading despite the cunning genius he knows is buried within them.
“Fine,” he huffs, rolling his eyes as your smile grows wider, “But we need to be back before my brothers so I don’t get a lecture.”
“Yes!” You squeal, pushing up from the stool, “I knew you weren’t as boring as you seem!”
He frowns, despite knowing you’re just teasing him for this exact reaction, and watches as you clean up your bowl, discarding of the mushy granola and rinsing it out.
“I just need ten minutes to get ready and then we can go!”
“You have five.” He grumbles, watching as you rush out the room and listening for the stomp of your feet up the stairs.
He’s probably going to regret this.
—
The bikini had been your first strike - baby blue, the type that ties with strings around your neck and back - when you had come down the stairs, the slap of your slides echoing against the wood and diverting his attention from his phone to your emerging figure. Your t-shirt was clutched in your hand, your tote bag in the other, and he had just stood there, mouth agape, until you rolled your eyes and stormed straight past him, calling, “Thought we were on a time crunch, come on,” behind you.
Your second strike had been the way you had waited until you were on the boat to apply your sunscreen, sat next to Luke, who was trying to keep a steady hand on the wheel as he drove his way down to a clear spot further out on the lake. Luke who was biting his tongue from offering to help you, and could smell the sweet melon scent of the lotion as it sank into your skin.
And the third had been the way you had been smiling down at your phone, distracting him with the pretty curve of your lips as he steered over the water.
Three such minor infractions already had him regretting the decision to bring you out here alone.
“Who’s got you smiling like that?” He asks, trying not to sound as jealous as he feels at the thought of it being another guy.
“It’s Cole,” you tell him, eyes still on your phone.
“You and Cole text?” The boat jolts slightly as his hands tremble, and he diverts his attention to you.
“No, he’s got Ellie’s phone.” You type something back before turning the device to show him a selfie Cole had taken in the hotel lobby, Jack asleep on one of the benches in the background and Ellie posing in front of his sleeping figure.
“Why’s Cole texting from Ellie’s phone?” Luke asks, eyes back on the water as he steers the boat, long fingers curled around the wheel and muscles flexing.
“They’ve been hanging out,” you tell him, “They were together when we got back from the club the other night, he was in our room.”
“And you’re only just telling me this now, because?”
“Oh, my bad, control freak, didn’t realise you needed the whereabouts of everybody in the house,”
“Jack’s been off all week,” Luke mutters, remembering his brother’s reaction when he had told him he was staying at home instead of going to the concert. He had called him out on staying home just to be around you, saying he’d regret missing out on such a huge experience, like there won’t be a hundred other concerts in his lifetime, and that you wouldn’t even appreciate him doing it. “Making all these passive aggressive comments,”
“No way! Jack Hughes? Passive aggressive?” You gasp, shuffling in your seat to give him more of your attention, “What next, is he gonna start acting like the world revolves around him too?”
“Don’t get cute,” Luke rolls his eyes. It’s starting to make sense, him chewing his ear off like that - even though the two of you had literally caught him out on a date, if he feels like Ellie is moving on with his best friend, he’s bound to feel some sort of way about it. “If they were together when he came home from that date, maybe he saw them,”
“They were hardly getting it on with the door wide open, Luke, they were playing cards.” You scoff, “Plus, he has no right to be upset, he was literally on a date he told nobody about.”
“He gets in his head about stuff like this,” Luke reasons as he slows the boat, bringing it to a stop in the middle of the water so he can focus, “Talks himself in circles until it makes him so dizzy he does something stupid.”
“You think that’s what he’s doing?”
“I don’t know, I don’t like assuming the worst of my brother, though.”
“Alright, let’s say Jack is only being a dick because he thinks Ellie and Cole are hitting it off,” you stand up now that the boat is steady, kicking your slides off and ambling over to the benches at the back, out from under the cover of the roof. “What are we supposed to do about it, we can hardly keep them apart, keeping track of Jack and Ellie is hard enough without throwing Caufield into the mix. He's sneaky.”
“We’d only technically have to follow Ellie, still,” Luke says as he follows you to the back of the boat, thankful your back is to him when you start to push your skirt down your legs, and you can’t see the way his eyes go three times their usual size, he’s almost anticipating a swat to his chest for when you turn and notice. “They can still hang out, just not one-on-one, one of us could keep an eye on them, take it in turns.”
“That sounds an awful lot like hard work, Hughes,” you huff, taking a seat on the leather bench and stretching your legs out before lounging back, “Can’t your brother just grow a backbone and ask her out? It would save us both a lot of hassle.”
“I’m working on it,” he throws himself onto the bench opposite yours, thinking of all the times he’s tried to cut the conversation with his brother short by just telling him to grow a pair. “I guess you’re right, we can’t stop them being friends, it would be hypocritical.”
“Hypocritical?”
“Yeah, ‘cause we’re friends.”
“You think we’re friends?”
“You don’t?”
“We watch one movie together and now all of a sudden you think we’re besties?”
“I think we’re friends ‘cause you like my company, you wouldn’t have asked me to bring you out here if you didn’t like being around me.”
“That’s ‘cause you’re deluded.” You smile, pushing your sunglasses down from the top of your head to the bridge of your nose and relaxing back. “I like tanning and being on the water. You’re a glorified chauffeur at this point. Not a good one, either.”
“I got us out here no problems, didn’t I?”
“I had to hold on the whole way, you were throwing me around like a loose can in the trunk of your car.”
“Yeah, well the water was choppy,”
“A good workman never blames his tools, Hughes.” You smile over at him, and the innuendo makes his cheeks go hot. Definitely regretting bringing you out on the water with no escape about now.
“Did you really ask me to bring you out here just to lay out in the sun?” He leans forward with his elbows on his knees, watching as you angle your neck to face him.
“Is that a problem?”
“It is if you’re gonna be a grouch about me being here.”
“I thought you’d be all quiet and brooding like you usually are.”
“Me?” He laughs, “Quiet and brooding?” He doesn’t think anyone has ever used the word quiet to describe him in his life. He knows you can’t be serious - all you’ve done for weeks is blast him for getting on your nerves.
“I’ve literally seen you talk once before this summer.”
What the hell do you mean by that? You barely knew who he was that day he approached you in the club.
“That’s ‘cause you’d have to notice me to see me talk.”
“You’ve never talked to me.”
He did talk to you. Several times, in fact. That day outside your dorm with Ellie’s gift basket, a couple times in class - but they’re all insignificant, minor exchanges of words he would quite like to forget, if he’s honest. Mumbling and stuttering and, quite frankly, embarrassing, to say the least. A far cry from the confident man he’d like to think he has become. “Why would I talk to you?”
“That’s rude,” you pout, and he straightens up immediately.
“No, I just mean, like,” he waves his arms out in between the two of you, gesturing over and shaking his head. “You’re you. We were never really on the same level for me to be talking to you.”
You bring your glasses back onto the top of your head, pushing your hair out of your face and squinting against the sun to level him with a glare. “Aren’t you a big time athlete?”
“I am now. You wouldn’t have given me the time of day back then.”
“You never gave me a chance to.”
“You could have approached me.” He thinks you’re just biting back for argument’s sake, if he’s honest - there isn’t a chance in hell you ever spared a thought for talking to him or giving him the time of day. You barely even looked his way - and he definitely would have noticed.
“So could you.” You frown.
“I tried once.” He distinctly remembers the one time he did approach you, away from class and apart from the first time he met you, dialled up with liquid courage and driven by the way you were dressed as a sexy Patrick Bateman, and he finally felt like having the right conversation starter around his love for American Psycho might have helped him kick something off with you, or at least got you to acknowledge his existence. He would have even taken you calling him Lu again. “At a Halloween party in Freshman year. You blew me off. I barely got a word out before you were storming off.”
“When you were dressed as Scooby Doo?”
His lips part and close repeatedly like a fish bobbing it’s mouth, blinking slowly at you as he realised just what you even having that memory meant. “That’s a weird thing to remember for someone not interested.”
“A giant dork in a dog costume is a pretty hard thing to forget.” You grin satirically, “I never said I wasn’t interested, you just caught me at a bad time and never tried again,”
“You wanted me to try again?”
“I want you to be quiet. Aren’t you due a nap or something?”
“You can’t seriously tell me you asked me to bring you all the way out here just to lie out in the sun and do nothing,” he groans, watching you return back to your previous position, body bathing in the sunlight and sunglasses pushed back down onto your nose.
“What, did you think we were gonna play mermaids?” He can’t see the roll of your eyes anymore, but he knows when it happens by now, just from your tone of voice.
“You can do that back at the house, we have loungers out by the pool,”
“It’s not as peaceful as this.” You sigh, “Plus, the trees around the back block the sun this time of day. I’m getting pale cooped up in the club all week, I have catching up to do.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Lay back and relax,” you advise, nodding toward the bench he’s perched on the edge of, reaching your hand down into your tote and blindly tossing the bottle of sunscreen in his general direction, “You could use some sun, too. And if you’re a good boy, I’ll let you do my back later.”
Luke, surprisingly, folds - doing as he’s told and lounging back into the leather, and he begrudgingly thinks a little too much about how right you are. This is peaceful. The soft whoosh of water against the boat, clear blue skies, no yelling or arguing or people competing around him. Just you, and the sunshine, and the smell of melon-scented sun lotion seeping into his skin.
It isn’t long before he drifts off, his head resting on his folded arm, the heat of the sun warming him like a blanket, and the last thing he sees before his eyes close is your head turned his way, lips parted slightly as you sleep, yourself, skin glistening and your chest rising and falling in deep, steady breaths.
When his eyes open again, you’re sat up, holding your hair up with one hand and fanning yourself with the other.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, voice thick with sleep as he sits up, his skin peeling uncomfortably off the leather.
“I’m hot.” You whine, turning to him with a pout.
He scoffs, resisting the urge to say something corny like, I know you are, before he points out over the side of the boat. ��If you look to your right, there’s a large body of water you can cool down in.”
“I’m not getting in there!”
“Why not?”
“Lake monsters, for one,” you scoff, releasing your hair and he watches it fan out over your shoulders in soft waves.
“They’re only native to Scotland, I heard.” Luke stands, looking over the side and into the steady waters to gauge how safe it would be to go in without a vest. The water is still, he’s never had any problems in this part of the lake, and he’s confident the two of you could at least take a dip without there being any concerns - you were a lifeguard, after all, and he’s always been a strong swimmer.
“Aren’t there fish in here?” You ask, beside him now as you peer over the edge yourself.
“There’s actually a cool hack to check, do you want me to show you?”
You eye him sceptically but nod, anyway, and he holds his hand out to help you walk to the back of the boat, stepping down onto the stern where it’s easier to reach into the water.
You’re careful not to let him fall behind you, clearly cautious of the fact that he could push you in. Instead, he stands beside you, squats to reach down over the edge and run his fingers through the ripples that form. He stands back to full height and you squint to look up at him, the sun blaring from over his shoulder and reflecting off his sweat-slicked skin.
It makes your eyes sparkle again, and it’s almost enough to make him change his mind from what he’s about to do - only, before your powers of hypnosis can work on him for the second time in a matter of hours, he quickly grasps onto your hips and launches the two of you into the water.
He has the same misguided confidence he had when he squirted you with that hose - a burst of energy that he immediately succumbed to before he could think rationally about it, and it’s the same energy that forces deep and hearty laughter to rumble from his chest as you squeal on your way into the lake.
The two of you land with a big splash, and emerge simultaneously, you running your hands through your wet hair to push it back out of your face.
“What the hell did you do that for?”
“You said you were hot, I was trying to help!”
“You are so dead!” You exclaim, splashing him with a swat of your hand against the water.
“Oh, look, a fish!”
“Ew, no!” You yell, squirming forward to try and dodge it, unintentionally leaping right into Luke, the heat of his firm chest under your flattened palm, an arm curling over his shoulder to steady yourself.
His arms curl around your body by instinct, wrapping around your waist and holding you against him until you realise his trick, and your hands press on the top of his head until you’re pushing him under the surface with a yell of, “So dead!”
Laughter ripples out of him, from the pits of his stomach to the parting of his lips, and comes out in bubbles against your skin as you hold him down, your body thrashing to get away from his until you break free from his hold, and he rises back from under the water.
“Get back here, you’re not getting away with that!” He calls after you, launching himself forward to catch you.
“No,” you squeal, trying to gain momentum as you leap away, only for his arm to curl around your waist, pulling your squirming body back against him with a splash. “Let me go, you brute!”
“Tell me you’re having fun or you’re getting dunked,” he commands, lips beside your ear as your back is held flush to his chest, your skin still warm from the sun and smooth against his.
“You dunk me and I’ll leave your ass to the lake monsters,” you warn him, still squirming in his hold.
“Like you could drive the boat, you need me,” your body seems to still the lower his tone gets, succumbing to his hypnotising powers, and he can feel you square your shoulders against him.
“Yeah right,” even Luke can tell how much your denial is forced from the shiver down your spine, “Jack can do it, how hard could it be?”
“You’d really hijack the boat just to avoid admitting you like my company?” He asks as he lets you go, and you turn immediately in the water to face him. He tilts his head when your gazes meet across the water, and your eyes flicker between his as if trying to read him like a book.
“Today’s been nice,” you admit, with a dramatic roll of your eyes, “Last night, too. Not specific to your company. Just being away from everybody else."
“So that’s the key?” He dares to swim a little closer, just enough that you won’t notice him reducing the proximity between the two of you. “You wanna get me on my own?”
“You-,”
“Wish,” he finishes, your eyes meeting in a steady gaze despite the bobbing of your heads to stay afloat. He’d like to think it’s more than the water that has brought you back this close to him, legs kicking beneath the surface, his hands itching to hold back on your waist to help, “Yeah, I do.”
If he has managed to stay more or less in place while treading water, then it can’t be the current drifting you toward him, and you’re so close now that he could hold you, if his brain could just link to his hands to give them the courage to do so.
You like being alone with him - you’ve pretty much just admitted so - feel comfortable enough that you change your plans to fit him into them - just like you had last night - you wanted him to talk to you in college, you noticed him, even, enough to remember the fact that he never did.
There has to be some base level of interest there for you to be this close, in the first place. To move into his house, to agree to spend your summer in his company, to spending more time with him than he’s noticed you spending with your supposed best friend.
And just as he convinces himself of it, and his thoughts link to the movement of his hands underwater, inching closer to grip at your hips and pull you all the way toward him, a shrill ringing carries all the way from the boat to Luke’s ears, turning both of your attention back to the vehicle.
“Shit, that’s Jack’s ringtone.” He groans, “They’re probably back by now.”
The two of you swim back toward the boat, and he pulls himself up onto the stern before lending you a hand to get up, yourself.
There are a bunch of texts from his brother.
Where are you at?
Did the demon get you in your sleep?
Where’s the boat?
Please tell me you’re dumping her body and she’s not dumping yours.
You’re dead either way when you get back!
“Shit, we better get back,” he grumbles, rushing to the front of the boat to get it started again. Before you sit beside him, he feels the draping of a towel across his shoulders, and his heart thuds at the small smile you give him when his eyes meet yours.
“Sorry if I got you in trouble.”
“It’s fine,” he shrugs, nonchalant despite the rampant beating in his chest, and the thought of his brother chewing his ear off when the two of you get back. “You’re worth the headache.”
He winks, teasingly, and his eyes go back to the water before he gets the chance to see your cheeks flush. You’d probably just blame it on sunburn, anyway.
You don’t speak much on the drive back, but Luke can feel your eyes on him, can practically hear your mind whirring with a million thoughts - only because his is doing the same.
Why does he has to have a brother with the world’s worst timing?
He would have kissed you.
At least, he thinks he would have.
His hands were reaching out. He would have pulled you in by the hips, held you against him, raised so that your faces were finally level, and he would have made a move. He can feel it in his bones, still thrumming with almost-arrogance. A knowing, sure feeling that he can’t shake - one that tells him you would have kissed him back.
But he’ll never know, now.
When the two of you get back, Jack is waiting on the dock, and you gather your things before Luke helps you off the boat. He ushers you past his brother, knowing you’d be down to argue all afternoon, if necessary, but he can take this one on his own. He doesn’t want you hearing the sort of venom he knows his brother can spew out when he’s mad like this.
You brush past Jack on the edge of the dock, who thankfully waits until you’re back at the gate and out of earshot to start on Luke.
“What the hell are you doing? Have you lost your mind?”
“What, I’m not allowed to have fun when you’re not here?” Luke scoffs, rolling his eyes at his brother’s theatrics.
So he took the boat out, it’s really not that deep, he thinks. He’s an adult, he has his license, there really shouldn’t be a problem.
“I know you’ve seen Jennifer’s Body, you shouldn’t be out on the lake on your own with her,”
“Implying she’s a demonic serial killer might be a little over-dramatic, even for you,” Luke huffs as he starts to make his own way back.
“Trust me, it’s not.” Jack stops him with a hand gripping at his elbow. “Whatever trick she’s pulling on you, Luke, you need to wise up,”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“She isn’t interested,” Jack tells him, “She’s using you to pass the time until someone better falls into her lap, and you’re falling straight for it. Letting her convince you to stay behind and miss hanging with the rest of us, taking the boat out on your own, don’t you think it’s weird how she never had any interest in talking to you before it started benefitting her? Before you made it to the big leagues?”
Luke narrows his eyes at his brother, shoulders slumping as the words seem to weigh on them, like a heavy towel draped across to dry him and rub away all the affections you had blessed him with over the past 24 hours.
But it isn’t Jack’s words that are ringing around his head, this time. It’s yours.
You never talked to me.
You never gave me a chance.
You never tried again.
Maybe you did have some level of interest before. Maybe his intuitions earlier had been right. Maybe it’s still there.
“It’s none of your business, Jack,” he grumbles, not allowing him a second to rain on this parade. “You don’t even know her.”
“Don’t come crying to me when she breaks your heart, then.”
“Trust me, I won’t.”
If you’re thankful for any rule at the house, it’s the rule for knocking before you come into any bedroom. Quinn knocks most mornings to let you know breakfast is being prepared, or before he goes on a store run to ask if there’s anything you or Ellie need. Jack knocks for Ellie, and now Cole does too.
You can always tell when it’s Luke though.
Repeated and incessant, a constant rapping of knuckles against the wood until you answer, instead of any sort of pattern or rhythm.
“Can I come in?” He asks as soon as you open.
“No.” You tell him every time, but to no avail.
“Thanks,” He swerves into the space beside you, careful not to shove past as he makes his way into the bedroom. “We have a problem.”
“Yeah, they’re called boundaries, Hughes.” You scoff, slamming the door and following him. “You can’t just waltz in here like you own the place.”
“I do.” He frowns, “Own the place. This is my house."
“Your brothers own it, actually.”
“What are you, Michigan Census Bureau?” You mimic the words back to him, your face scrunched tight and your voice as whiney and annoying as it can go, and he pushes his hand in your face, just light enough to cover it and not actually smack you because he doesn’t have a death wish. “The problem. You have to focus,” he clicks his fingers in front of you, and you swat his hand away with a frown.
“Click at me like a dog again and I’ll bite your fingers off.” The look on your face is one he should probably fear, but there’s a nagging instinct he can’t fight to keep pushing your buttons. He doesn’t know where it comes from, but it feels wrong to ignore.
“Is that supposed to turn me on?”
“The problem, Luke, get on with it.”
“Right.” He sighs, throwing himself down on the bed, “I can’t find Cole and Ellie anywhere. I think he took her out.”
“What?” You reach forward and push at his shoulder, “You had one job, Hughes!”
It had been his turn to take watch, as the two of you had agreed the other day out on the water, but it was really starting to get tiring, having to play third wheel to a situation he really didn’t understand, and he needed a recess. Five minutes just to recuperate, he didn’t expect them to make a break for it so quick.
“I left to make a sandwich! I’m allowed to eat, you can’t expect me to starve it goes against my rights!”
“You’re such an idiot,” You scoff as you rush toward the closet to find something to wear, your plans of a self-care day now flushed down the toilet thanks to Luke’s insatiable appetite. “You couldn’t watch them for an hour without succumbing to malnutrition?”
“Why can’t you be on watch for once?”
“I was doing my nails,” You retort, wiggling your freshly painted fingernails in his face, crimson red to match your toes, and the colour Luke feels his cheeks turning at the sight of them. “Because thanks to someone the gel started lifting after spending my entire afternoon the other day with my hands in a soapy bucket.”
“You’re the one who took the detour to beat Jack home and got my car all dirty.”
“Whatever, turn around.” You’re already lifting your tank over your head before Luke gets the chance to comply, his mouth falling agape before he can control it at the sight of you stood in just your bra and pyjama shorts in front of him. The instruction only registers when your tank top hits him in the face, dropping into his lap so he can look up at your scowl and swivel in his place on the bed. “They’re probably at the mall, she was saying she wanted to go to the art supply store there.”
“So what, we’re gonna just bump into them? Won’t they think it’s weird we’re showing up there after we both said we were staying in today?” He tries not to look into the corner of the room, where he knows the mirror placed there will show him the reflection of you changing - although what’s the use in hiding anything, now? He’s already seen it.
He’s also seen you in your many different bikinis over the past few of weeks. Has been up close and personal, even, holding your body against his out in the lake.
But your bathing suits aren’t slightly sheer and frilly around the edges, and don’t push up on anything - not that they really need to.
But thinking about that isn’t gonna do him any favours.
Old men playing chess, animals in the shelter, getting slammed into the boards at high speeds - thinking of those should get his mind back on track.
“Nope, we’re gonna follow them.”
“I thought you said that spying on people is childish.”
“It is when you’re talking about lurking in bushes and hiding behind menus, Luke.”
When he sees you come around the front of the bed to grab your sneakers, he decides on his own terms he can turn back around, careful not to let his eyes linger too long on the expanse of your legs beneath the skirt you’ve now changed into.
If it wasn’t for the other afternoon spent working together to wash his car, or the evening spent watching movies, sharing a bottle of wine and indulging in those sticky face masks or the way you had quite literally drifted into his arms in the lake the other day, he would probably feel like a creeper for the way his one track mind has persisted. But, despite your efforts to convince him otherwise, he isn’t deluded.
There’s something brewing between the two of you.
It’s in the twitch of your lips that now follows every time you roll your eyes, and the magnetised force in which your eyes track him whenever he enters the room, where you had been entirely indifferent before - you’re warming up to him, he can sense it.
“So what’s the plan?”
“I wanna see what it is they keep running off together for,” you shrug as you braid your hair into pigtails in the mirror, your gaze flickering back to him, “Every time we interrupt them, they just keep sneaking back off again. Maybe if we find out what it is they’re doing, we’ll be better at keeping them away from doing it.”
“And how are we supposed to stay hidden?”
“Easy, we have to wear something we usually wouldn’t be caught dead in.”
“I’ve seen you in that exact outfit like twelve times.” He gestures with a lazy hand to the outfit you have on - white t-shirt, navy skirt, socks that go just above your ankles and the same pair of sneakers he must have seen you in every day the last year you were both in college together.
Not that he was paying that close attention.
“I know. Can I borrow that quarter zip you wore the other day? You know, the one that’s the colour of baby poop? Super hideous, really gross-,”
“Har har, real funny,” he whips the tank top he’s still, for whatever reason, clutching in his hands at you before throwing it onto the bed, and storming toward the door, calling out a, “Let’s go,” over his shoulder and not bothering to check if you’re coming when he starts to make his way downstairs - the echo of your giggling laughter following him down the hallway tells him as much.
—
“Are you sure she said the art supply store?”
Luke’s neck is starting to hurt from craning it above the shelves in search of Ellie’s curls, this being the second art store the two of you have checked. Somehow he’s the one looking out while you peruse the shop, now cooing at a section of crotchet animal kits and pointing them out until he mutters out some half-hearted cute, or nice.
“There aren’t many things I could have confused it for, Luke, unless you know of anything that rhymes with art supplies?” You pick up one of the kits, turning it to assess the difficulty by the pictures on the back before putting it back on the shelf.
“Maybe she said she had parts to buy?”
“Alright, smartass,” You scoff, shouldering past him to make your way toward the exit, clearly having no luck in finding them here. She definitely wouldn’t have parts to buy for anything, she’s hardly Fix-It Felix. “You can buy me lunch and we’ll see if she’s put anything on her story yet.”
“I’m starting to think they’re not even at the mall and you’ve lured me out of the house under false pretences for free food.” The diffidence he’s giving is entirely forced as he drags his feet behind you, following you out of the store. “If you wanted me to take you on a date, you could have just asked. It was probably the stop for a smoothie that had us missing them in the first place.”
You gasp, and before he has the opportunity to retort with something just as annoying, you grab his hand and tug him with you behind one of the giant plants that are beside the coffee stand, keeping a hold of him as you poke your head around the corner.
“There they are,” you whisper back, your fingers still clutching at his as he crowds into the same space to make sure he too is hidden behind the sprawling leaves.
“Oh so hiding behind bushes is alright if it’s your idea?”
“Shh,” you frown, your hand releasing his and pressing over his mouth, “They’ll hear you, Loud Mouth,” and his eyes follow the pointed finger on your other hand to where Ellie and Cole are walking together toward the store you and Luke just left - side by side, sodas in hand, smiling and laughing and nudging at each other.
In better circumstances, he’d be thinking about how he’s pressed to your back, bending to accommodate for the height difference, your head tilted to make room for his to lean in for a better look, and your hand still resting on his face, not really covering his mouth but more caressing his jaw in an absentminded fashion as you watch the two of them.
But all he can think about, disturbingly enough, is his brother - and how hurt he’d be to see what’s happening between his supposed best friends.
“We’re following them, right?” He asks lowly, his face not too far from yours, and when you turn your head to the side to look at him, he feels like your gaze is softer than usual when it takes in how hardened and dark his is.
“Definitely,” you agree, stepping away from him and turning to face him properly. “If you saw me out of the corner of your eye, you wouldn’t know it was me, right?”
Wrong, Luke thinks, but that’s only because he’d be able to pick you out of a line up in a pitch black room by now - blind folded, spun around a few times for good measure and facing the wrong way.
When he had found a Mets jersey on the rack in the Goodwill you had dragged him to in search of a disguise, and your words from earlier about not being caught dead in something had rang in his head, he had thought it was perfect. And then you had waltzed over with the same jersey, and your eyes had lit up.
“We can’t wear the same thing,” he frowned, unable to hold the weight of the expression for too long when he saw just how excited you were getting. “That’s hardly blending in."
“No, it’s perfect!” You exclaimed, “Ellie would never expect me to match anyone!”
He had thought the shirts were too much before you threw in the identical orange baseball caps you had found, and at that point he was cursing whatever scorned woman it was that dumped all her ex’s shit into the thrift store.
The two of you look cute in your matching gear, he can’t deny that, he just wishes you could have found something that made him feel a little less dirty, maybe Wolverine blue and yellow, if you were gonna dress up as a couple.
Luke doesn’t like how you still make his throat dry in Mets gear.
He reaches out to adjust the cap on your head, pulling the bill down to cast more of a shadow over your face, and combining that with the way your braids, the ones you said you’d never usually wear but seem to suit you anyway, come out the bottom of either side of the cap, he figures anyone else would have a hard time immediately placing you. “Probably not,” he shrugs, making sure to keep an eye on the apparent lovebirds still hovering in the entrance of the art store.
“Great.” You smile victoriously, “Put your arm around me.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” You scoff, “I’m hardly asking you to ravage me outside the Pretzel Peddler, Hughes, make haste,” you shoo him forward, taking control of the situation and forcing yourself under his arm as the two of you stumble back toward the art store.
Remaining incognito isn’t entirely hard when the two of you are moving as one, you stuffed under his arm and him able to hide his face in the top of your head if he thinks either Cole or Ellie are likely to see you.
Following them is easy, able to maintain a short enough distance that you can both eavesdrop on their minimal conversation, and there isn’t really a problem until they break apart.
Ellie goes toward the back of the store, Cole towards the front, and you whisper to Luke that it might be best for you to break apart, too - if you both follow one of them, the other is more likely to catch you - and so you drift after Cole, and he drifts after Ellie, and while the two of you can still see each other, there are a lot of unidentifiable hand gestures in place of where you can no longer talk. That is, until Cole heads further down the other end of the store, and you slip completely out of view.
It’s less fun, spying this way, watching as Ellie browses the shelves, looking over all the sketchbooks until she finds the right one - as if he hasn’t seen a stack of around 5 of them in their room back at the house - swerving so fast on her feet that Luke stumbles on his own to get away, rushing around the bend before she can see him.
When he rounds the corner of the aisle and sees you heading straight for him, eyes wide and step rushed, he rushes, too, tripping forward until the two of you collide, your stance thankfully much sturdier than his. You grab him by his shirt to make sure he’s steady on his feet before you pull him with you as you fall against the shelf behind you, standing on your tip toes and tugging him down to meet your lips with a surprised grunt.
What the fuck?
Your hands move up to cup at either side of his face, holding him in place as you angle to slot the bill of your cap to the side of his so they don’t bump and fall off, and he loses himself in the warmth of your kiss before he even realises that he’s halfway gone. Your hands cover both of your profiles, and Luke thinks that if you are caught, there’s no way for them to identify the two of you unless Ellie has the orange-red colour and long, supposedly almond - or so you had told him - shape of your nails memorised. Because who would pay such close attention to something like that?
A hand falls to your hip, another to your waist, and he’s teasing your back into an arch with his touch, only distantly hearing surprised exclamations of oh fuck, and sorry, from either side of the aisle.
He pays no mind to the sound of rushed, retreating footsteps, trying to press his tongue between your lips for a further taste of very berry smoothie and sugary balm that he can feel the stickiness of, that he wants his lips to be coated in forever.
He savours the seconds after, where you drag out the show just to make sure Ellie and Cole have actually disappeared, and he pushes his luck one more time, deepening the kiss until you pull away, your hands on his chest shoving purposefully.
“What was that for?” He asks, breathless and dazed as he takes in your appearance, lips swollen and wet by his doing, pupils dilated.
“PDA makes people uncomfortable, right?” you shrug, like it’s the most obvious explanation for the way you just kissed the life out of him. Like there was nothing else you possibly could have done to get out of that predicament. And his heart thumps as he remembers that those are his words, uttered in a tease way back in the restaurant at the club. “They were hardly gonna stick around and watch, I don’t have Caufield down as a voyeur.”
Luke watches as your eyes drop briefly to his lips, and he swears he sees the flicker of a smile twitch at the corners of your mouth. His fingers come up by instinct, pressing tentatively at the sticky residue that coats the outline of them.
“You tell anyone I did that and I’ll gut you like a fish, Hughes.”
He nods, still in a daze, if he’s honest, and stays in place while you nudge past him to follow in the direction where Ellie and Cole disappeared.
When he does finally come to, shaking his head to pull himself out of the way his brain is trying to relive the last few minutes, he follows, too - maybe less discreet in his movements, this time, in the hopes that another close call might just gain him another kiss, too.
You’d like to think you have good intuition when it comes to others and their actions. You can see straight through people, a shift in their expression, a twitch in their smile, a glint in their eye - it makes you protective of the people you surround yourself with, keeping only a close-knit group of friends, and keeping everyone else at arms length.
Friends who you know when they’re upset, or down, need someone around, or need space. It’s how you know Luke has been avoiding you all week, and how you know even more just to leave him to it.
Not that you’re friends.
It started with long days at the rink - not that you lament his training, but you know he hadn’t been that deep into his regimen so far this summer. Quinn had been the one to drop you off at the club that last couple of days, and Luke hadn’t joined the group when they had played a round of golf and stopped by the bar for some refreshments after.
You’ve seen him around the house still, usually shooting off to God-knows-where, eyes locking in the hall as he passes you like a ship in the night, until he shifts his gaze with an awkward smile.
If he wants to be childish about one stupid, meaningless kiss, you have no choice but to let him.
You’d hardly forced yourself on him. He could have pushed you off if he didn’t want it. Instead, he’d pulled you even closer, even tried to slip you some tongue! And it had kind of been his suggestion in the first place.
You wouldn’t be so bothered about it if you had something to do with Ellie gone for the next week - her little sister’s birthday taking precedent over your summer plans, and the family taking a trip out of state. You can’t even go out, trapped inside due to the unforeseen storm - and you hate thunder, it reminds you too much of all those tumultuous nights locked in your room, listening to your parents fighting, the wind and rain doing little to drown it all out.
But all you have is the house, and with the house comes the movies - the ones he had promised to watch with you.
You had both written down your top ten, yours in his notes, and his in yours, and the damn page has been haunting you every time you unlock your phone. And that’s how you’ve given in so easily. It has nothing to do with the fact you miss him - it’s just pure boredom and curiosity that has you watching Happy Gilmore on your own on a Friday night.
You don’t miss him.
That would be ridiculous.
Luke Hughes is annoying.
His taste of movies is annoying.
The fact that won’t talk to you is annoying.
“Hey, I thought we were gonna watch this together.”
Or not.
Luke leans against the doorway, possessing the kind of casual indifference that only a man could, frowning and pouting as if he’s not the sole reason you’re cooped up on your own watching a damn movie about golf of all things.
“Thought you were avoiding me,” you bite back, arms crossed over your chest and brows furrowed in frustration.
“Why would I be avoiding you?” He asks as he steps into the room and closes the door behind him, your eyes darting straight to long, slender fingers wrapped around the handle.
“Because you kissed me, and then all of a sudden started acting like I don’t exist to you.” You accuse with a pointed glare, figuring one of you has to have the guts to talk about it.
“Actually, you kissed me,” he smirks, perching himself on the edge of your bed, “And then told me in graphic detail you’d pretty much murder me if I ever spoke about it again, so I,” he frowns, “Didn’t.”
You can’t help but scowl at how stupid that sounds. He can’t seriously think you would murder him. If you were the murdering type in the first place, you’d have done it long ago. You even tell him as much.
“I don’t know, you had this scary look in your eye, kind of didn’t want to test that theory,” he shrugs, reaching in the pocket of his hoodie and throwing a bag over to you.
M&Ms. Your favourite.
“You gonna scoot over?” He asks, raising a brow and widening his eyes as if he’s pleading, as if you’ve been the one giving him the cold shoulder.
You roll your eyes and shuffle across the bed, making room for him beside you that he occupies way too quick, legs stretching out in front of him, all the way down the bed, as he gets comfortable.
You try to focus on the movie, as if you have any clue what’s been happening so far, anyway, but you can see him out of the corner of your eye, an arm tucked behind his head, his chest stretched out, and his jaw tensing as he chews on the candy he’s already stealing from you.
He’s had a haircut. Shorter on the sides, and it makes his face look a little more defined. Still curly - maybe even curlier - and softer than before, in a way that you’d want to run your hands through it, if you were a crazy person, of course.
And he smells good, too.
You’re starting to think this has been his plan all along - for distance to make your wretched heart grow fonder, or whatever - and you find yourself tensing your own jaw as you grind your teeth and try to tune back into whatever Adam Sandler is yapping about.
“I sort of was avoiding you,” he admits, and you can still see him out of the corner of your eye, looking down at you, now, although you don’t look back.
“I know.”
“I’m sorry,” he apologises, shifting a little to face you more, “I thought you might have felt weird about kissing me.”
“I didn’t.”
“Okay then.”
“Alright.”
“We can talk about it, if you want?” He suggests, and that’s finally when you look at him, with his lips twisted nervously and his brow raised, anticipating your response.
What’s there to even talk about? You kissed him as a distraction. He knows that. You know that.
“I’m good.” You tell him, a short, forced smile to ease the tension before he smiles back.
“I know something we can talk about,” he leans in, “Considering how little you care about this movie.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“How you had a big fat crush on me in college,” he smirks, eyes darting between yours, the flash from the tv screen highlighting all the different hues of blues and greens in his irises.
He’s not gonna catch you out, though.
“You’re delusional.” You tell him, your own eyes narrowing, almost like a defence mechanism. He seems to be quite good at reading you, and you’re not letting him in that easy.
“So you keep saying,” he pouts, pensively, “But then it’s you never talked to me, Luke, and I remember small random details about you, Luke!”
“I don’t sound like that,” you frown, taking slight offence to the squeaky voice he puts on, more than likely to distract you from the closing distance. He speaks again before you can realise you really should be putting more effort into denying such ridiculous accusations, before he completely slanders your good name.
“You’ve been avoiding me all week and I missed you, Luke-,”
You don’t know why your mouth is all of a sudden on his, but if you take a second to think about it, you’ll spiral out. His lips are soft, and your noses slot perfectly beside each other - no painful bumps or clumsy collisions. Just a plain, normal kiss between two people who tolerate each other. That’s all.
When you part, his eyes drift open softly, his lashes - infuriatingly long as they are - flutter open, and his irises glaze over as if he’s under a spell.
“That was-,”
“To shut you up,” you mutter, rolling your own eyes and forcing a scowl. “You were starting to give me a headache.”
He nods, that dumb look still in his eyes, and you feel your jaw clenching almost achingly at how it makes you feel.
“And I care very deeply about Gilmore’s happiness, so if you could cut it out with your yapping, I’d really appreciate it.”
“His name is Happy-,”
“I didn’t ask.”
When Luke is on the ice, most of the noise around him usually tunes itself out. Aside from the scrape of his skates, and the thudding of his heart, he can usually dial out the crowd, the chanting, the booing, the chirping, whatever it may be - all distractions to the end goal.
The one noise he never can ignore, though, is that of the goal horn, blearing throughout the arena, bouncing off of every corner until it hits him like a freight train, and he thinks they ring a little louder when it’s him that scores.
And with that horn, he can fine tune himself back into his surroundings. To shouts and cheers and applause, a sea of red and white jerseys jumping up, the Devils logo brandished across their chests, and his work being praised by the masses.
He somehow has the power to zero in on you, too. Arms raised, up a little in the stands, not too far that you’re just a speck, but not too close that you’d be a distraction.
A wide smile on your face, adoration in your eyes, and 43 on your arm.
“Luke!” Your lips read, drowned out by the crowd, but he can still make it out, calling out to him like you’re the only other person in the room. “C’mon, Luke!”
He smiles, as big as he ever has before, and points straight at you, dropping a wink like you could possibly catch it from out in the stands, and taking a bow.
“Hughes, you big lump, wake up!”
He groans as he’s shaken from his sleep, soft hands gripping at his arms and jolting him awake.
“What?” He doesn’t open his eyes, not yet, but he thinks it’s the weight of his furrowed eyebrows keeping them closed.
“I need a favour,” you whisper.
“No.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“It’s 2am. I don’t do favours before 9.”
“C’mon, please?” He opens one eye to your pleading face, and then another, when he catches the teary reflection of the moonlight in your eyes.
“What is it?” He straightens up, rubbing the sleep from his eyelids and straining to make the rest of you out in the dark.
“I need you to look at the window in my room, it’s whistling.”
“It’s just the storm, it gets like that when it’s windy,” he sighs, sinking back down a little into his pillows. He had thought you were in danger, or something.
“Can’t you fix it?” You plead, soft fingers still squeezing a little at his bicep, and his chest starts to feel heavy just from the tone of your voice - but it’s 2am. You had him up until midnight watching Wall-E, and he has a morning skate with his dad at 6am.
“Do I look like a handyman?” He huffs, also a little aggrieved at the fact you had disrupted his rather nice dream. “Just go to sleep and ignore it.”
“I can’t.” You whine, “I can’t sleep if there’s a storm, they freak me out. And I can’t ignore it when it’s literally screaming at me through a broken window. And I’m on my own in there, it’s scary.”
Luke presses his palm firm into the socket of his closed eyes, trying to rub away the exhaustion that is urging every fibre of his being to fall straight back asleep.
He can’t fix the window. It’s been like that for as long as him and his brothers have lived here - always the dud room left to whoever rocks up last to the house - and even if he could, he’s comfortable, and warm, and if his bare feet touch the cold, hardwood floor, he won’t be able to get himself to drift back off.
He sighs, shuffling beneath the sheets before grasping them and flipping them over, making room beside him and muttering a grumpy, demanding, “Get in.”
“Luke,” you whine, and he can see your pout even through his closed eyes - lips plump and plush and if he gets even a glimpse he’s going to start thinking about kissing them, again. “You’re really not gonna help me?”
“I don’t offer my super comfy bed up to just anybody,” he reasons, making a little more room, “C’mon, you can barely hear the rain in here, it’s this or the couch downstairs.”
“Can’t you take the couch and I take your comfy bed?”
Luke opens one eye to look at you, eyes glimmering nervously in the crack of moonlight that sneaks through the curtains, lip tugged between your teeth, and relents, immediately. “Do you want me to take the couch?”
He could probably go sleep in your bed, if you’re really that bothered. He doesn’t do too well with noises while he sleeps, but he will if he has to - if that’s what makes you feel better. But you had just said it was scary being alone, and he’s counting on that to make a case for himself to keep his super comfy bed in his whistle-less bedroom.
“No,” you grumble, shoving at his arm, “Move over a little more.”
He relents, making as much room as he can for you to crawl into his bed before he flips the sheets back over on top of you, waiting for you to get comfortable before he melts back into place.
His legs extending into yours is purely accidental, but he doesn’t move them when you don’t flinch away, taking a second to adjust his positioning until he realises something.
“You’re not wearing pants.”
“Neither are you.” You mumble back straight away, turning to face him, the bare skin of your calves brushing his as you move.
“It’s my bed,” he shrugs, his body on its side and his arm beneath his pillow, the space cramped now that you’re both squeezed in, and he’s trying to give you room, but he swears you have space on the other side. “I don’t wear pants to bed.”
“I don’t either.”
“What if there’s a fire?”
“I think I’d rather succumb to the flames than let your brothers see me in my panties.”
He just hums, sleepily, trying not to overthink how you wouldn’t mind him seeing you in them. He closes his eyes and tries to ignore the press of your skin to his.
“Do you want me to go put pants on, Luke, would that make you happy?”
“Don’t ask such a ridiculous question.” He huffs, sinking into his pillows and getting himself back into the right position to drop back off into a deep slumber. “Go to sleep.”
The soft patter of rain against the window lulls him, and he slowly feels you relax beside him, a few minutes of silence settling between the two of you - comforting and still - before you break it.
“Luke?” You whisper, this time barely audible, like you don’t even want to be heard - and it’s that thought that has him ignoring you, sleep clutching his eyes closed anyway, so close to drifting back off.
He feels your body shuffle against the mattress, still not enough to lure him back into full consciousness, but he’s aware enough to know your every move.
And he’d like to think he can predict them, imagining you shuffling to get comfy and hoping he’s too deep in his sleep to care if you nudge him while doing so.
But he could never predict the soft press of your lips to the corner of his mouth, and the gentle, almost non-existent muttering of a thank you against his skin.
He only lets himself smile when he can feel you settle back into the bed, body laid beside him, bare legs brushing against his under the sheets.
You are so welcome, he thinks, that soft smile curving into something much deeper as he succumbs to sleep, body melting into an oozy, gooey, consuming mess beside your own.
Luke should have known you’d get your own back on him for the whole avoiding thing.
The two of you had been sweet for a solid week, movie nights every other night, especially after you had shared his bed, you’d even made him lunch to come back to the day after. And he had started driving you to and from work, again.
And it’s the drive home from work one day that he sees something in you switch.
“It’s just gonna be a couple people, you’ll probably even know some of the girls from college.”
“It’s your house, Luke, you don’t have to explain your parties to me.” You shift your knees back to face the dash, where they had just been angled toward him, and you cross your arms against your chest.
“We can pick back up on movie night tomorrow, I don’t have any training all day so we can do a marathon, if you want.”
“Ellie’s back today, so I don’t know.”
He frowns, tightening his fingers around the wheel as he watches you retreat all of a sudden, like you’re annoyed with him, or something.
And then as soon as he pulls up outside the house, you’re climbing out of the car before he even has a chance to come around and open the door for you, storming up the driveway and disappearing inside.
He tries not to let it get to him. Tries to lose himself in the festivities of the night - a house party thrown on whim at the discovery that most of the brothers’ mutual friends were in town. He was excited to see his boys from Michigan, Ethan, Dylan, Luca and Jacob, who all climb out of Ethan’s truck with a 6-pack in hand, and crowd around Luke, embracing him with brotherly pats on his back and ushering him into the kitchen to partake in their pre game ritual - a round of shots to line their stomachs.
He still keeps a close eye on you once the party is underway. Watches you and Ellie, watches when Cole joins the two of you, and you laugh at whatever dumb jokes he’s trying to tell you. Watches your gaze flicker his way throughout the night, and leave just as quickly, and he has to shrug off the chirps of his friends when they notice, too.
He later watches you catch up with a couple of the girls coming from your sorority, and that’s around the time he loses you, lost in a round of beer pong that fills his bladder quicker than he could have anticipated.
He excuses himself up to his room, the music dying down the further upstairs he gets, and relieves himself with an inebriated bop of his head to whatever melody he can still hear blasting through the floorboards.
He zips his jeans back up, and ambles over to the sink, washing his hands under the faucet until the sound of his door opening has his heart falling into the pit of his stomach.
“Jesus,” he gasps, shutting off the water and turning to face where you’re stepping into the room and closing the door behind yourself. “You ever heard of knocking? What are you doing upstairs?”
“Was just checking you weren’t like jerking off in here or something,”
“What if I was, were you planning on watching?”
“Yeah, right,” you scoff, pulling a face to feign some sort of offence, but Luke watches as you fidget, tucking your hair behind your ears and shuffling on your feet.
“Like you’ve been watching me all night,” he smirks, tossing the towel he had used to dry his hands back onto the hook and taking a step into your space, backing you against the counter, your shoes no longer shuffling along the floor. It feels like it’s been days now that you’ve been off with him, even though it’s been a mere few hours, but in those hours, he’s had a lot of time to think about your relationship, or lack thereof. “Think I haven’t seen you? Can’t take those pretty eyes off of me, can you?”
He’d first noticed when you came downstairs with Ellie, earlier, pinned to her side and gossiping about something, no doubt catching up on her week away. You kept glancing his way, subtly at first, eyes darting over and shifting back just as quick to your best friend, faking interest and nodding along until you looked back over. Your efforts were more noticeable as the two of you moved around different corners of the room, interacting with different groups and still meeting eyes across the expanse of space between you and him.
His heart jumped every time.
And then Victoria had arrived, just before he had been recruited to play beer pong - an old hookup from his college days. She had always been more of a friend than anything else, and Luke had no interest in reigniting whatever dampened spark they once had, she has a boyfriend now, anyway, but when her hand grazed his arm, and he looked over to see your glare zeroed in on the exact spot she was touching him, he thought he’d have a little fun with it.
Nothing too extreme, a few loud laughs, a little longer spent with her than initially anticipated, but she had been more than happy to regale him with stories about her new relationship, so pretending to pay attention didn’t seem like such a bad idea if it was going to make you do something.
He had a sneaking suspicion as to what had turned your mood, earlier, and he was about to have fun testing his theory - that you had been jealous at the mere mention of other girls being at the house.
He didn’t think it would culminate in you following him all the way up to his room, confronting him in his bathroom with nobody else around, but he’s hardly mad about it, now.
“Shut up,” you scowl, but your tone is weak, and Luke knows he’s got you. Chin tilted up to meet his eyes in defiance, gaze locked on his as he moves closer, and he’s thankful, for the first time tonight, that the boys had forced him to take those shots when the party started.
He wouldn’t have the courage to challenge you like this, otherwise - an inebriated cockiness taking over, puffing out his chest and filling him with the same sort of misplaced bravado he’s been convincing himself to muster all week.
“You already know how to make me.” He mutters, lowly, the proximity of your face to his giving his tone a breathiness that he hopes comes across more seductive than slurred. His mind is stuck on that kiss from the other night, when he had apparently irritated you so much that you felt that was your only option.
You blink slow, eyes dropping to his lips, and before he can blink, himself, you close the distance.
This is different to before - incomparable to a kiss given just to hide your faces, one just to stop him from talking and another when you had thought he wasn’t conscious.
This is heated, and intentional, and intense.
Dainty fingers clutch at the front of his shirt, pinching slightly at his skin before taking a hold of the fabric, and there’s no possible way for you to play this off as something less.
Your lips are firm, slotted against his, and moving before he knows it - his tongue licking at the seams until they part, and you grant him access to the sweet taste of fruity liquor inside your mouth.
Large hands take residence on your hips, sliding daringly backward until he’s gripping at your ass, long fingers stretching down to trace the hem of your skirt, denim thick but not immune to his absentminded efforts to chase the feeling of more.
He’s expecting you to come to your senses, anticipating the grip of your hands to turn into a shove, and the sweetness of your taste to turn sour when you start to yell at him, fire in your eyes and venom on your tongue - but all he hears is you moaning into his mouth, all he feels is the press of your torso against his as your back arches into his touch, his fingertips grazing the top of your thigh as your skirt moves in his hold.
He’s greedy with the way he touches you after that, hands cupping, fingers kneading, nails scratching even just to leave his mark, and he barely notices yours slipping down, down, down until the cold press of your fingertips grazes his abdomen, stomach tensing at your touch.
He groans a little, his movements halting as you manage to distract him from his ministrations, using the leverage you have on his body to press and push until your lips part - swollen and wet with his spit.
His heart thuds in his chest, thump thump thump echoing in his head as he watches you - holds his breath and stares at you with his own lips parted, the taste of you lingering in a way he doesn’t want to swallow too soon.
He waits for your face to turn, for that hypnotised look in your eyes to turn into a glare, the distance between you bringing some much needed clarity - but the shift never comes.
Instead, you push yourself away from the counter, and he finds himself looking straight down as your hands make their way back to the hard ridges of his stomach.
“What are you doing?” He stutters as your fingers start to tickle lower.
“I wanna give you a hand.”
“Give me-,” he splutters, his own hand stopping yours in its tracks. “Am I dreaming right now? Is this a trick?”
“No,” you persist, pushing your hands despite his weak, half-hearted efforts to stop them. “You did me a favour, why can’t I do one back?”
“Because that’s not-,” He can’t believe he’s trying to turn this down, the lump in his throat protesting the words that try to come up. You just kissed him. You just let him hike your skirt up and push you against the bathroom counter, let his fingers go so far beyond the realm of reality that he thinks he’s still lost in a dream - and he can’t figure out why he’s even questioning it, anymore. “There’s a pretty big difference between me letting you sleep in my bed and you jerking me off,”
“It’s only a big deal if you make it one, Luke.” You shrug, pausing at the waistband of his pants. Every nerve from his ribs to his toes tingles, the teasing touch of the tips of your fingers sparking something unshakable within him. “Do you want me to help you out or not?”
“Are you high or something?”
“No,” you chuckle, meeting his eyes again - sparkling and beautiful, a hidden vulnerability flashing across them at the insistence of his hesitant rejection. “Are you? You’re really gonna turn me down to just jack yourself off in here on your own?”
“Please don’t call it that.” He pleads, the last thing he needs right now is any sort of reminder of his brother. Not when you have your hands on him. Not when you could conceivably get on your knees right before him. Not when his deepest darkest fantasies could play out after so many years of pining after you. “No.”
“No?”
“No.” He lets out a panicked stammer. “Not no. I meant no, like no to your question, not no period.”
“What?” You step back with a frustrated huff, taking your hands away, close enough still that he can reach out and grab them, holding them between the both of you.
“I want-,” Good lord, he wants a lot. He can still taste you on his tongue, still feel the press of your kiss on his own swollen lips, and his head is spinning so far out of control he doesn’t think he’ll be able to knock any sense back into it any time soon. “Are you sure?”
“Oh my God, Hughes, just pull your pants down and let’s get on with it.”
Luke pulls you in for one more kiss before he relinquishes all control, and hums and whines as you work his zipper down, the sound bouncing off the tiles and reverberating around his skull.
He doesn’t know how you can so easily go back to normal after.
He can’t understand how you could just lift yourself back onto your feet when the two of you were finished, adjust your skirt around your hips, and leave him alone in the bathroom, panting, flushed and barely coherent, all evidence of your tryst swallowed down like the moans you had forced him to suppress - all except the faint bruises on the lowest part of his stomach that you had sucked into his skin, the ones he hopes grow darker as the days go on, the ones he feels pulsing as he rejoins his friends in the kitchen.
He had once again promised not to utter a word to anyone - but it doesn’t stop the thousands of them that swirl around his brain after, the ones that linger there all through the night, resurface through the week, and etch themselves into the very core of his being.
Thousands of words in hundreds of languages, mixing to form romanticised poems he might never understand.
All he does understand, is that he’s so far gone for you now, it isn’t even funny.
Far gone is starting to seem like the understatement of the century.
Luke can’t get enough of being around you, and it’s so detached now from the two of you only ever hanging out to scheme about Jack and Ellie that he can’t even remember the last efforts you made to do anything about their relationship.
He’s now just focused on whatever relationship the two of you are building between yourselves.
Watching movies in his bed, comparing commentary on your favourites, asking for his opinion, and him asking for yours. And he likes how gentle you are with the things he loves. Movies are kind of his thing, and sharing them with someone else - sitting and watching them and waiting for some kind of reaction, good or bad - could be intimidating with anyone else.
But you’re so attentive. You ask questions, you remember things, and you try to understand why he might love a film, and try to see things from his perspective, rather than stamping your own opinion over his and ruling anything out.
You’re open-minded, even though you pretend not to be. You’d given Happy Gilmore a second chance, even, and Luke never had you pegged as the second chance type.
You talk a lot more to him on your drives to and from work - not that you didn’t talk before, but this is different, entirely. You have actual discussions, around more than just what’s happening at the house, or what’s happening at work.
The two of you talk about college, about your major, your plans for after school. You talk about hockey, about Jersey, about his friends and teammates back there, and the life he’s built away from the one you pretend you never knew.
And the way he feels about you starts to consume him in ways he never thought possible. In ways that make him sort of understand where Jack had been coming from all those years, when he’d never shut up about his feelings for Ellie, and how he thought about her all the time, and wanted to be with her 24/7.
It’s what has him hovering around at the club after he and Quinn had played a round of golf, waiting outside for Quinn to give the keys back for their caddy, and spotting you chatting to Cara at the side door to the restaurant.
He waves as soon as you see him, and his heart jumps when you immediately excuse yourself to skip over, a bright smile on your face that he never thought could be directed his way.
“Hey!” You greet him, cheerily, ponytail swaying behind you as you come to a stop in front of him.
“What time are you getting off?” He asks, foregoing any small talk and cutting straight to the chase.
“I’m on the lunch shift today, so 3,” you pout, checking the watch on your wrist that he knows reads just past 1. “You don’t have to wait around though, I can catch a ride from somebody else,”
“No, I’ll take you home.” He assures you, “I need to go to the mall, I’ve got to get a present for a baby shower, I was hoping you’d help me.”
“I don’t know how much help I’d be, babies give me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Yeah, same,” he chuckles, “Maybe we could grab dinner or something, instead?”
“I was gonna pick up a dress for the party next week, so maybe we could do that first?”
“And then dinner?” He asks, a hopeful raise of his eyebrows that is spurred on by the way you’re biting back a smile.
“Yes, Luke, then dinner.” You chuckle, beaming up at him when his face breaks out into a full-blown grin.
“Sick,” he replies, “Yeah, cool,” he nods as he watches you step away, amusement gleaming in your eyes, “I’ll be out here at 3.”
“I’ll see you then.”
Luke watches as you make your way back to the side door of the restaurant, meeting your eye when you look back at him and relishing in the way he can catch the flush of your cheeks all the way from the fountain.
He smiles to himself as he turns on one foot, light in his step and light in his head, nodding to the guy who is painting the railings leading up to the club foyer and swinging on his feet as he waits for his brother.
If he had a little less self-awareness, he thinks he could start leaping and swinging from the nearest lamp post like a scene straight out of Singing In The Rain.
He hasn’t felt elation like this in a long time.
He hadn’t uttered the word, exactly, but this is as close to a date as he might get, and his entire body is buzzing at the thought of it.
“Are you coming?” Quinn calls out as he descends the steps at the front of the club, keys in one hand and a water bottle in the other.
“Uhh,” Luke drags out as he not-so-subtly looks back to where you and Cara are talking by the side door. “I think I’m gonna check out the gym.”
“You know it’s just a bunch of old guys on machines in there, right? Plus, I thought we were going in the morning with the rest of the guys?”
“Right,” he mutters absentmindedly, “I meant the pool.”
“You hate indoor pools.”
“The sauna?”
“Your little crush is getting out of hand, huh?” Quinn chuckles, elbowing at Luke’s side to get his attention back.
“It’s not a crush.” Luke huffs, lips pouted as he tears his eyes away from you with great effort.
“I think we’re past the point of you denying it, Luke,” his older brother gestures to the wall Luke had been staring at when he came outside, “You’re literally watching paint dry to pass the time until she finishes work-,”
“No, I mean like I had a crush on her,” Luke sighs, “Before this summer, when I just thought she was pretty and hot and I could never pluck up the courage to do anything about it. It doesn’t feel like a crush anymore. Or maybe it does, I don’t know, I kinda feel like she’s crushing me, to be honest.”
He gives a nervous laugh when he says it, but it’s not enough to cover up the way he really feels - not when it comes to his big brother, who puts his keys back in his pocket just so he can spare a hand to reach out and pinch at Luke’s cheeks, teasing, “Lukey’s in love,” before he swats him away.
“Hardly,” he scoffs in denial, although he doesn’t really understand why he’s fighting the thought of it so hard.
It’s not exactly a preposterous idea. Love might be an overestimation - you haven’t exactly let him all the way in - but like seems like an understatement. Obsessed seems dramatic. Infatuated?
“I don’t know, I like spending time with her, like talking to her, is all,” he shrugs. He likes a lot more than that, but confiding in Quinn after how his last encounter with Jack about the whole thing had gone has his back up, a little. “I feel like she might like me too.”
It’s the first time he’s said it aloud to anyone else. He’s chirped you about it enough - taken note of the various shades of pink he can flush your cheeks when he does, darker and darker as the days go on - but he’s been abiding by your request of staying quiet about any of the specifics.
And it’s been hard. Oversharing is kind of his thing, usually, and keeping information from his brothers isn’t exactly something he loves doing, not when he’s been cursing Jack all summer for doing the same.
“Jack thinks she’s using me. He doesn’t like her.”
“Jack doesn’t like that he can’t beat her. Like he can fire a thousand shots at her and nothing goes in, he isn’t used to that.”
“Oh, but I am?” Luke scoffs, although he isn’t entirely sure if he is offended. “Are you calling me a loser?”
“No, Luke, I’m not calling you a loser.” He chuckles. “It’s like hockey, right, you and me, we chase people down. Don’t give in until we’re caught up and we can disarm someone. That isn’t Jack’s game. He’s usually the one being chased, you know? Usually the one ahead.”
“He’s not that bad on the other side of the blue line,” Luke scoffs, although he gets where his eldest brother is coming from. He hasn’t really thought about it in that context - that you and Jack don’t get along because you’re alike - but it makes sense now that he thinks about it.
“He’s not like you, though. You get some weird thrill out of going after people you have no business going after, you have since you were younger, taking down kids 4 or 5 years older than you and twice the size for fun. Makes sense you’d want someone so far out of your league.”
Luke looks back over to where you’re still stood with Cara, and just manages to catch your eye before you look away, pretending he hadn’t caught you. The smile erupts slowly onto his features, close-lipped and soft, but he feels the joy of it all throughout his body.
“I think I’m wearing her down.”
Stolen glances across whatever room the two of you happen to be in, smiles that you’ve only ever sent his way, feather-light but purposeful kisses on the corner of his mouth when you think he’s asleep, seeking him out in his bathroom after seeing him with someone else - yeah, he’s getting there.
“Good for you, Luke,” Quinn chuckles, patting his brother on the back, “As long as you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
He does. At least he thinks so.
You feel weird.
It’s the only word you can think to describe the mood you’ve been in for the past week.
Well, weird and off.
You can’t quite put your finger on it, either, but it’s throwing you off your game.
There had been a second the other day where you had thought you might have gotten to the bottom of things - when you’d come inside from sunbathing with Ellie and had found Luke in his room, packing a bag for his trip to Vegas for some award ceremony he and Quinn were nominated for.
Clarity had hit you like a brick to the head, panic swirling in your chest at the thought of him being gone for a whole week, but then he’d looked up from where he was perched on the ground, had given you a lopsided grin, and had ushered you over to help - and the speed in which you had started to feel normal again quickly diminished any thoughts of Luke being the cause of your weirdness.
But it has been hard to shake, even as unidentifiable as it may be, and the longer you feel this way, the worse it gets, bubbling up like anxiety that keeps your jaw tight, and your lips pressed together.
It culminates the night of the boys’ party - a celebration of Quinn and Luke’s nominations, and a good luck send-off of sorts that Jack had wanted to throw before they left.
You had started the night off fine - kind of attached at Luke’s hip, him muttering teasing remarks into your ear about you clinging to him ‘cause you’re gonna miss him when he’s gone, and catching up with a couple of the guys from Michigan. You might have even been having fun at one point, smiling into the red cup Luke had placed in your hand at the beginning of the night that you still hadn’t drained, as you watched him shoot pool and he kept smirking up at you as he leant over the table.
You shouldn’t be feeling anxious when he looks at you like that, but God, do you feel something.
And then your phone starts to buzz in your pocket, and assuming it’s Ellie, who, once again, is away with her family - this time in Europe for a couple of weeks - you pull it out.
But it isn’t Ellie.
It’s your dad.
And the heart that had been thudding in your chest at the mere capture of Luke’s attention just moments ago, is now dropping out of your ass.
It isn’t a call, thank God - you don’t think you could handle that, feeling the way you currently feel - but an email.
Your dad hasn’t called in a while. He rarely texts, either.
This is how it is, now. Emails and Facebook posts you happen to come across, like you’re some distant co-worker or an old family friend.
Not his only daughter. Not the kid he abandoned in search of a better life.
When you open it up, there’s no subject, no body either to the email, just an attachment.
A family photo, him, his new wife, and their two boys, stood in front of the Eiffel Tower, edited into a postcard that reads, Wish You Were Here!
And resentment bubbles within you.
I could have been, if you’d have invited me.
You shove your phone back into your pocket and do a quick glance around the room to check if anyone might have noticed the tears welling in your eyes, but you’re safe.
Luke’s attention is on the table, the rest of the boys’ attention is on him, and you slip away before he has the chance to meet your eye - to see straight through you in the way only he knows how, and make your way to the kitchen in the search of something stronger.
When you push your way through the door, whatever weird feeling that has been consuming you for the past week culminates into something bigger.
Something darker, and heavier, and angrier, like a tornado of emotions tearing through your very core, picking up every last bit of restraint on it’s way as your eyes narrow onto it’s next target.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Jack pulls back in a daze from the blonde who’s face he was just suctioned to, brows furrowed as his intoxicated gaze zeroes in on you.
He slurs out your name, glaring like he’s trying to get his eyes to focus before they roll dramatically, and he runs a hand through his messy hair.
“Jesus, what do you want?”
“Maybe for you to have some respect, or is that a little too much to ask?”
“Could you give us a minute?” He asks the girl in front of him, who scowls at you before walking off, shouldering past you to exit the kitchen as you stare Jack down. “Why are you being such a psycho?”
“I’m sick of you messing Ellie around, Hughes, I’m not gonna just stand around and let you play with her heart like she means nothing to you anymore.”
“She’s not even here,” he scoffs, “She won’t find out unless you tell her.”
“And you think I won’t? She’s my friend, Jack, we tell each other everything.”
“Yeah? She tell you how she’s into Cole?”
“No. Because she isn’t.” You’d cleared that up with her a while ago, asking her straight up if something was going on - and she had said no. She wouldn’t lie to you.
“Then why do I keep getting told that she is? Why is everyone seeing them out together all the time? Why is she texting him tonight and not me?”
“Maybe ‘cause you’re making it your mission to stick your tongue down other girls throats all the time. This entire summer, you’ve done nothing but avoid your feelings so much that maybe she thinks you’re not into her. Maybe you need to pull your head out of your ass and talk to her like a grown fucking adult and stop playing stupid games with her heart.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“And you should be fucking listening. If you keep messing her around, you’ll lose her for good,” you threaten, with a jab of a pointed finger into his chest.
Jack looks flushed, cheeks pink, lips puffy, eyes red-rimmed and hair a mess as he looks back at you - and it’s like he’s functioning in slow motion, you can practically see the cogs turning in his inebriated brain as he comes up with some way to jab back, some way to make you hurt the way the thought of Ellie leaving does to him, just to avoid admitting you’re right.
“What, like how you keep messing my brother around?”
“Excuse me?” You scoff, stepping back when he jabs a finger at you.
“You heard me,” he snarls, “Leading him on like some lovesick puppy while you couldn’t care less about him.”
“Is that what he said?”
“No, funnily enough he won’t even talk to me about you,” Jack’s glare sends a shiver down your spine, one that overrides the buzz of pride at him following your instruction - you know this level of animosity comes from the swirling of intoxication and frustration, he doesn’t actually hate you, the two of you have gotten on somewhat in the past couple of weeks, despite him making out otherwise, but this is different. This makes you feel small, like a speck of something fragile, ready to be stomped and crushed under his irate foot. And it’s not the kind of small you usually like. The kind of small where you compare yourself to the bigger picture. No, this hurts. Aches. Itches in a way that you need to relieve, immediately. “But I bet that’s your doing, because that’s how toxic you are, making it so he can’t even confide in his brother about his feelings. Feelings that you just want to stampede all over like they’re nothing. Break his heart like it’s some kind of sport.”
That isn’t true.
That’s not who you are.
That’s not what you’re doing, not what you want.
You know how it feels to have someone break your heart like that, you’d never do that to Luke.
“Go fuck yourself, Jack.” Is all you can mutter out in defence of yourself before you’re shouldering past him, barging through the uninterested crowd and stomping out of the kitchen.
You think it’s the need to feel bigger that has you poking your head into every room in search of him - the person who had ingrained the notion of needing to feel bigger to feel better to your memory - only able to find comfort in a mop of messy curls that sits on top of a head higher than the rest. It’s what has you grasping at his hand when you do find him outside on the deck, dragging him wordlessly - and thankfully enough, without protest - back through the rest of his house, and to his room before you push him down onto the bed, instructing him to move up and sit against the headboard before you straddle his lap.
You kiss away his questions, fingers clumsily working at the buttons of his shirt until you can tear it off, swallowing down his confusion into your own mouth as he shrinks into your advances.
When you start to grind down into him is when he gains back some level of consciousness, large hands grasping at your waist and pushing until your lips part with a loud smack. And you’re both breathless, panting against each others mouths as he tries to figure you out, looking up at you with a furrowed brow and swollen lips.
“What’s going on?” He asks, eyes darting around you in concern.
Concern that makes you feel larger than life - makes your chest expand and your heart swell and your lungs fill with so much air that you feel like you might float away. To have someone look at you like that, care about you like that, want you for more than what bare bones you’re offering to him, what everyone else wants you for, it makes you feel gigantic.
Like a hot air balloon, carried to far away lands by the flames of his affections.
And if they shut off, you’ll drop into oblivion. Breaking suddenly from the airy mechanics that keep you afloat, plunging at great speeds until you inevitably hit the earth with an almighty, painful splat.
You never did like falling.
“I want you.”
His face scrunches a little as he thinks - thinks a little too hard for someone who’s been pursuing you all summer - and before he can question it, you reach for the hem of your top, pulling it off until you’re left in just your lacy bra, your skirt riding up as your legs fall to either side of his hips.
It’s the most you’ve ever given him aside from being around him in your bikini and the one time you had changed and he hadn’t turned around quick enough, and before you can feel self conscious about it, you feel his eyes rake down the long expanse of your bare skin.
And the way he looks at you now makes you feel even bigger - a hunger in his eyes that tells you he could spend the rest of his time on earth working his way through every inch of you, savouring whatever parts of you that you’ll let him get a taste of, and he’ll never let you go.
“Please?” You’re already technically on your knees, what harm can begging do if it just makes him do something?
You don’t want to talk about it like you know he’s about to ask, don’t want to have to explain why you sought him out, why, for once, you didn’t care that people might see the two of you holding hands, you marching him to his bedroom and him following like exactly what Jack had said - a lovesick puppy.
You just want him. Want to feel bigger. Want to feel wanted.
Want to give in to the part of you that has been dying to fold to him all summer, to let him close that gap, to break down the barriers you’ve been desperately guarding.
He cranes his neck to press a sweet kiss to your lips - one lacking the intensity from before, but not the adoration he always manages to pack in there - the kind that twists at your gut until you can’t take it anymore.
“Please,” you whisper against his lips, kissing him again. “Give me something to hold onto when you’re gone.”
You figure if you use his own words against him - words uttered teasingly, but truthfully, earlier - he’ll give in.
The thought of losing this, of him leaving and finding something better, of distance being wedged between you for the first time all summer and finally giving him clarity, making him see you for what everyone else thinks you are.
Maybe if you give him what he really wants he’ll hold on a little longer.
It’s not like you don’t want it, too.
“You only had the one drink?” He asks, responding with fervour, the pressure of his kiss starting to build. “The one I got you?”
“Didn’t even finish it,” you kiss him again, “Stone cold sober,” and again, fingers trailing between you to work at the button on his jeans, “Want you now.”
“Yeah,” he lifts his hips and helps you pull his pants down, a clumsy shuffle to temporarily part while he wriggles them off, “Want you, too.” He mutters before leaning in to kiss at the corner of your mouth, “Wanted you for so long.”
There’s a voice inside that itches to tell him, I know, but it’s quickly shut up by another - a voice that’s louder, a voice you can’t ignore anymore when it comes to Luke.
A voice that tells you, you know nothing.
#luke hughes#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes imagine#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction#luke hughes fluff#*writing#pls don't hate me I swear on my life it will be tomorrow and you do have permission to kill me if not
116 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii I was wondering if you would write for TASM peter. Also would you write the smut ABC's for any characters because I haven't seen one for him and I'd love to see it (specifically from nwh for this)
PETER PARKER X MALE READER
This is my first time ever writing one of these!! Uhm so I’m still struggling with my mental health and stuff but I promised that I’ll be back before the 23rd so here I am!
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Very shocked but like in the goofy awkward way. He likes to cuddle and hold you close while smiling ear to ear. He likes to tell you his favorite things you did.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He likes his hands, to hold and grip you close and close with him. He likes your arms the way you hold him tightly and he likes seeing your arms flex, also your back.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He likes facials, both receiving and giving them. He’s let you shoot your cum on his face and especially when he wears his glasses.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He wouldn’t mind doing it somewhere publicly but safe. Like in the bathroom stall during school or alone at night in the park.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
None, the only experience he has was watching porn. Lmao.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary or mating press, anything that you two are close enough to make eye contact and to kiss.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
At first when you two just start out having sex he’ll let out nervous chuckles. But as you two get closer he’ll crack a joke here and there while moaning.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He’s not that wildly bushy but he is hairy, but it’s neat and sometimes trimmed. But on some occasion yes he is bushy.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Completely focused on you like he’s in a trance, nothing else crosses his mind only you. He wants to see you and be close with you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He jerks off pretty often, whenever you two are alone but too tired to have sex you’ll two will jerk one another off, maybe edging to.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He loves roleplaying, you or him could wear his Spider-Man suit while the other would be a fan or villain. Or other roleplays like jock and nerd.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
His or your room, or the living room on the couch. He can get off doing literally anywhere so
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Hearing you say his name, hearing his name roll off your tongue, he’ll already be ready for the next round it doesn’t matter who’s the top.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Someone watching or like being cucked. He would literally crash out because he thinks the thought of s someone watching is embarrassing but someone actually wanting to have sex with you makes him wanna commit.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He loves giving head, he’ll be under the table or blanket sucking you off until your dick literally can’t cum anynore.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Depends on the moment, when you two both are okay and happy he would fuck you or take it in a fast but deep pace but when you two aren’t okay he likes to take it slow as deep but very gentle.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He actually likes quickies, he would try to get off as fast as he could. You two probably do it moe often then most would.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He’s willingly to take risk and try out new things no matter how confusing or scary it’ll be. He has an ‘You only live once’ type of mindset.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Four maybe six, he can take a lot even if your extremely rough with him. But after a long and hard rough day of hero work maybe only one round.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He owns rope and such, it’s for either of you two be tied up he doesn’t really care. Sometimes he’d use his web slinger to tie you up onto something so it’s sturdy.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He likes to tease, he’ll give you flirty signals and winks and make innocent things like drinking water seem dirty.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He’s pretty loud, he whines and moans while he gasps a lot.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Whenever he’s super exhausted he would cockwarm you, you could softly thrust into him or not and just hold and cuddle him.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He’s one of those skinny guys with a expressive dick. He’s about 5’4 inches when he’s soft and an solid 8 in when he’s hard. He’s an real grower.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
He’s very horny, he’s not a pervert or anything but when your in the mood he’ll be in the mood to. He’s buzzing with easy arousal.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
It takes him a while to fall asleep because he’s just yapping about how much he likes having sex with you and such but when you two are finally getting quiet he’ll drift to sleep in your arms.
THE END
#x male reader#male reader#male reader insert#x male y/n#amab reader#x top male reader#x gn reader#x reader#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter Parker x male reader#spiderman x male reader#spiderman x reader#spiderman#tasm!peter x reader#tasm peter parker#marvel x male reader#marvel x reader#the bear club
432 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello hello!! congrats on 3k. i love your work so much so you deserve it!! ^_^
if it’s okay could i request luka from alien stage with miscommunication & high school au? ( ´ ▽ ` ) and if it’s okay could the reader be amab? thank you!!
congrats again!!ヽ(;▽;)ノ✨✨💖💖
“but we can’t take back all the words that we said!”
show: alien stage
character: luka
summary: you overhear luka tell his friends that he missed being in ‘the single league’.
warnings: g/n! reader, no pronouns used (i didn’t end up put any gender indications at all, i hope that’s okay!!), miscommunication, high school! au, hurt/comfort, angst/comfort, reader is very self-conscious, established relationship, popstar! luka, he’s nicer in this au LMAO
"are you kidding me?" luka laughs out from inside the classroom.
you recognised that sound from anywhere. it was lunch time and you had told your boyfriend that, as class president, you had to prepare some things for the upcoming school festival during lunch, so you wouldn't be able to eat with him. he was a bit whiney and teasing, but soon let you go. you thought he'd be with some of his friends from his choir class, but no; he was in the classroom with a few of his peers.
you stop before you enter to talk to him for a bit. you were wondering what he was doing here.
"i mean, it's a bit hard, isn't it?" someone says.
"i wouldn't say it's hard," luka sighs out, "it's just a bit of a hassle trying to work around other people."
you're even more curious now. you hold your clipboard to your chest and wait to hear more.
"do you ever miss it? being on your own?" another person asks.
you stop, even halting your breathing in case he would stop talking because you were there.
dating someone as popular as luka was hard, but it was worth it. he was such a handsome guy and had an even sweeter voice. it was hard not to fall for him. you felt lucky enough that he loved you too. he was always on tv or always in the studio, and he brought you along too. you wondered the same thing sometimes; did he miss not being in a relationship?
you weren't a jealous person, but you didn't enjoy luka having a partner in music videos or anything. you had told him such, and he told you that he could fix that. maybe he didn't like the hassle.
"oh, of course," he replies far more quicker than you'd like, "i'd much rather be a single idol. i could do whatever i want, but now… i always gotta’ think of others. such a pain…"
the others around him begin to ask questions about why, but you only stand still. hearing it for yourself only confirms it; luka didn't really want to be with you. it only made his life harder. you somehow always knew that.
he probably didn't want to be rude in fear that you might spread something around to everyone that he was a bad boyfriend and ruin his reputation. or maybe he was just bored.
after all, you weren’t a popstar like him. you were just another student.
“y/n, hey,” mizi and sua turn the corner to see you. the pink-haired girl holds out a pamphlet to you with a smile. “here, this is what we came up with for the concert. is it okay?”
you take it from her and try to ignore the tears threatening to spill. you don't care to stay and listen to more. instead, you turn around and walk away with the girls at your side. you couldn't let him know that you knew, not until you were ready.
after school, luka is waiting at your locker. he is leaning against the wall and scrolling on his phone with his bag on his shoulder. once you're close enough, he tucks his phone away and smiles.
"hey, pretty thing," he greets you as you put your books away, "how was your little presidential duty?"
"it was fine," you retort shortly as you pack up your things, "don't you have a recording today?"
"oh, uh, yeah," he says as he watches your face, "it's later though, i can walk you home."
"it's okay, luka, i need to do some things before i go home anyway," you state as you shut your locker. you look back to him and his pretty face that tilts at you. it takes everything in you to not show that you’re upset. “i’ll see you on monday.”
“hey, wait,” he grasps your wrist as you try to walk passed him. he’s a music sensation, he knows when people are upset and when people are angry with him. you have both of those looks on you. “what about…?”
you two are supposed to go out together on sunday. you had organised something this time — a nice picnic by the lake. the both of you were so excited for it. until now, that is.
“oh, right,” you sigh out. he freezes as you lean closer to him and press a kiss to his cheek. “have fun.”
with that, you slip out of his grasp and leave. luka doesn’t call out. maybe you were just not in the mood, or it slipped your mind and you would come to your senses later.
he texts you when he gets home, when he leaves two hours later for his recording session, and when he gets home. he even sends you photos of his dinner with him and his new band. you only heart the photo and reply dryly. you’ve never acted like this.
you just want to make it easier for him to break up with you. maybe if he realised how little you added to his amazing life then he’d finally agree to let you go.
saturday comes and goes, and finally sunday does too.
sweetheart
sorry, can’t come today, i have some things to organise before the school fest next week
luka stares down at the text with his other hand holding the picnic blanket. he stands outside his door in dismay. at this point, he’s had enough.
love
seriously? whatever.
there, you think, he’s finally done with you.
he's gotten annoyed with this change of pace. you weren't acting like yourself, and he hasn't had any good time to ask you about it properly. you just shrug it off and then leave.
he tries to think about what he did, if he did anything, and nothing comes to mind. maybe he forgot to pick something up for you? or maybe he made you miss an important meeting? he couldn't think of anything.
monday comes around and you’ve prepared yourself. you two haven’t spoken since sunday morning and you’ve found it a bit hard to do so.
luka is upset with you, and you feel unable to be enough for him. so you put your things away, attend homeroom and explain the plans for the festival that runs from wednesday to friday, and head off to help your peers.
“y/n,” a voice calls from the doorway. you glance up from painting something. luka stands there with crossed arms. “can i talk to you for a sec?”
you stand up and and follow him out to the school yard. everyone else is planning their things for the festival, so nobody would be out yet.
“okay, out with it,” he grumbles with furrowed brows, “what’s going on with us? you’ve been totally gone and i have no idea why. did something happen?”
you don’t say anything, despite what you want to say. and that makes luka a bit more upset.
“y/n, seriously. can you just talk to me? i really wanted to see you yesterday and…” he holds his breath as you continue to stare at the floor, “why are you being so distant? you act like you want nothing to do with me! and instead of talking to me, you just—”
“you’re the one who wants nothing to do with me,” you grumble out with a hot face. luka stops. “you and… you just want to be by yourself, you don’t want to be with me anymore, luka.”
“what are you talking about?” he questions, now even more confused.
“i heard you!” you say as you jab a finger into his chest, “you told your friends that you missed being single and—and you didn’t like having me around. so i… i just thought that if i stopped being around you so much, that you would break up with me. at least then it would make sense.”
you have tears pricking your eyes. luka is almost the same, simply by looking at you. he knows what you’re talking about.
“i know it’s impossible, but i sometimes wish you and i were the same,” you mumble out, “it’s hard for the both of us, i guess. i’m sorry.”
he lets out a small sigh to himself before a smile dawns on his lips. he pushes his hair back and tugs you closer, gently.
“c’mere,” he mutters out. you’re reluctant, but seeing him with a sorry smile makes you step forward and wrap your arms around his waist. he holds you around your shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of your head. “oh, you poor thing. that must’ve been holding you down all weekend.”
“luka…” you say against his shoulder as tears stain his blazer.
“i know, baby, i’m sorry,” he shushes you, “i didn’t know you were nearby when i said that, i confused you. i wasn’t talking about you, sweetheart. i was talking about how much i missed being a solo idol.”
you blink and slowly lift your head from him. with slightly puffy eyes and an embarrassed look on your face, you stare at him.
“solo idol?” you repeat.
he chuckles and reaches a hand up to brush away the tears from your cheek.
“yes, i was talking about music,” he states, “not you, my love. i’m sorry that i said it that way, i didn’t intend on making you feel that way. i would’ve never said something like that if i knew it would make you feel like this.”
you can’t even look at him anymore. you cover your face with your hands.
“ah, i’m so sorry, luka,” you mumble into your hands, “i made a big deal out of nothing.”
“it’s okay, i understand, sweet thing,” he replies to you, “you can make it up to me with that picnic date if you feel so inclined.”
you nod your head at him before luka begins pressing chaste kisses to your tear-stained cheeks.
“aw, look at you, my poor baby,” he says to you, “don’t ever think i’d say such a thing. you’re my favourite person in the world, okay? don’t want you thinking otherwise.”
you wipe away your tears and nod your head again with a smile. luka grins as well at your return of personality. he leans forward and finally presses a sweet kiss to your lips.
“now c’mon,” he says after he pulls away from you, “let’s skip the planning stuff and go get something to eat.”
“no, luka," you chuckle out as he tries to drag you away. he forgets that you take your job as class president seriously. "i need to talk to class c's representative about their event."
"ivan's such a bore," he groans, "hang out with me instead."
you have to pull him by his blazer back to his classroom as he sulks behind you. you were glad that things were back to normal, at least.
#。.゜*ლ3k#luka#luka x reader#alien stage luka#alien stage luka x reader#alien stage#alien stage x reader#alnst#alnst x reader#alnst luka#alnst luka x reader
949 notes
·
View notes
Text
dress
📖 she’s been his best friend since they were pre-teens; he was a rebellious, unrelenting, and aspiring racer, while she was a witty, energetic, and hopeful journalist. but after all these years, she can’t help but question whether they could be more- despite the challenges that come with her feelings.
💭 op!81 x fem!journalist, best friends to lovers (smau)
🎧 dress - taylor swift
🃏masterlist🃏
🥀 “say my name n everythin just stops. i don’t want u like a best friend. only bought this dress so u could take it off…” 🥀
ty for the love on my first smau ! here’s the next per the last poll’s fav choice :) warning: lots & lots of typos/underlying delulu cringe
Twitter
Instagram
ynuser posted a story 6s
Liked by landonorris, logansargeant, fbsfuser, and others
Replies
landonorris: solidarity queen ✊🏼
-> ynuser ✊🏼
oscarpiastri: u are actually insane
-> wow this is so nice of you.
-> such a great best friend .
-> an even better journalist.
-> ynuser anything to humble u while i am in this industry 🫶🏻
user: you are UNHINGED
logansargeant: careful yn, your favouritism is showing
-> ynuser: it's part of my contract. im the comedic relief of f1 journalism
-> logansargeant: but doesn't will buxton naturally do that
-> ynuser: now THIS convo could get me fired. shoo logan.
-> logansargeant LOLL
mclaren: just 'cause we love you, we'll let this slide
-> ynuser: 🫶🏻😸
fbsfuser: send my fuck you's to them both :D
-> ynuser: already on it 🫡
iMessages
Instagram
oscarpiastri
Tagged: landonorris, mclaren, ynuser
oscarpiastri great start to the season @mclaren 💪🏼
the same can't be said about a particular someone tho... betting someone should get fired.
📸: @ynuser
Liked by mclaren, landonorris, ynuser, and 609,993 others
View all 21,008 comments
landonorris i dont support bullying, but exceptions can be made if it's towards you
ynuser if karma doesn't get u first then either stroll or i will
-> user oh my GOD 💀
-> user shots fired LMAOOOO
-> oscarpiastri i'd rather karma than u and...
mclaren and we thought lando was our only pr liability
-> landonorris wait WHAT
-> oscarpiastri that's a bit too insulting towards me
-> ynuser this doesnt include me.... right?
fbsfuser boy if you don't take this down...
logansargeant oscar is this meant to be retribution for her story earlier?
-> oscarpiastri so what?
-> landonorris that's kinda overdramatic compared to what she posted wow
ynuser i would also like to say that this stanky man tried to go out for dinner right after his race 🤢
-> georgerussell scandalous 😨
-> carlossainz55 not very smooth of you oscar
-> alexalbon not smooth.
-> danielricciardo not smooth.
-> charlesleclerc not smooth.
-> maxverstappen1 not smooth.
-> fbsfuser i think, and hear me out, maybe you're in the wrong here oscar
-> ynuser and this is why we were both wearing masks on track
-> oscarpiastri too far. you've gone TOO far.
Instagram: 10/03-21/03
ynuser posted a story 10s
Liked by yukitsunoda0511, landonorris, georgerussell, and others
Replies
yukitsunoday0511: i will get you back one day.
-> ynuser: ngaww 😹
oscarpiastri: u are tho
-> ynuser: ik
->oscarpiastri: wait. are you?
danielricciardo: mind giving me an extra mic so i can do this when youre not with us?
-> ynuser check ur driver's room ;)
landonorris: how did he know 😨
-> ynuser: we been knew lan
oscarpiastri posted a story 7s
Liked by landonorris, logansargeant, fbsfuser, and others
Replies
ynuser: there's no way you pulled out a photo from when we were 13.
-> oscarpiastri: full on war. what are you gonna do about it?
-> ynuser: watch me
landonorris: u have to give this pic to me.
-> oscarpiastri: LMAO ty for joining my side
-> landonorris: no no, don't be mistaken. im against both of you.
-> oscarpiastri: mate what?
carlossainz55: u guys should just kiss already
-> oscarpiastri: carlos NO
mclaren: you're really trying to blackmail a journalist who has resources at her disposal? 😮
-> oscarpiastri: ...yes...
ynuser posted a story 3s
Liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly, alexalbon, and others
Replies
alexalbon: congrats on winning soldier
-> ynuser ✊🏼
oscarpiastri: HOW DO U HAVE THESE PHOTOS ALREADY
-> ynuser: i like how u still underestimate my job then suffer because of it :)
pierregasly: these go hard 🔥
landonorris: well at least it's not as embarrassing for me. but a HEADS UP WOULDVE BEEN NICE
-> ynuser: bro dont even try ik you've been saving bad pics of me from oscar -.-
mclaren: we hope u enjoyed the pics!
-> ynuser: i owe u guys one fr 🙏🏼
Round 3 (22/03-24/03): Australia
ynuser
Tagged: f1
ynuser round 3 in australia!!!! 🇦🇺🦘❤️ amazing to be back on home base, and even better to see danny ric and pastry fight it out for the podium! (actual, professional, and correct news coming from me on @f1 tv 🫡)
ossie ossie ossie! oi oi oi! get it? 'cause ossie is like aussie and... okay. i'll stop.
Liked by mclaren, fbsfuser, danielricciardo, and 611,805 others
View all 21,008 comments
mclaren ty for providing us with baby pastry pics 🫡
-> ynuser pleasure doing business with u 🫡🫡
-> oscarpiastri excuse ME
oscarpiastri haha. so funny. at least u have stand up comedy since journalism may not work out :)
-> ynuser so you admit im funny 😸
-> oscarpiastri don't flatter urself.
-> landonorris nah mate, that sounded like defeat
f1 this commentary is fine 👍🏻
-> user LMAOOOO
user danny ric placing in his home base is such a dream come true 😭
-> user yeah im glad it isnt just a dream anymore
user cutiessssss
-> user them driving around the circuit in a golf cart must've been chaotic
-> logansargeant u have no idea...
user she's hilarious ilysm
-> fbsfuser back off fam she's mine ✋🏼
-> user i need to know how she got this job cause it is THE dream fr
-> fbsfuser yeah it really is a wonder given how many lectures she slept thru...
-> ynuser OI
danielricciardo 🫶🏻
-> user CONGRATS HONEY BADGER!!!
user can oscar fight???
-> user girl what are u talking about they aint tgt
-> user they aren't???
-> user no bruh theyre just besties
user watch me at the next race rizzin her up
Twitter
iMessages
Instagram Messages
landonorris: yn
-> yn
-> yn
-> yn
ynuser: bruh WHAT
landonorris: it's important
ynuser: lando i don't have time to answer whether a new pair of pants make u look flat
-> go ask osc
landonorris: ok first of all: a good pair makes a huge difference.
-> and second, it's about osc
ynuser: did smth happen to him?????
landonorris: no, sorry
-> shouldn't have led with that
-> i sent u a post on twitter
-> but just, read carefully k?
Twitter
Instagram Messages
ynuser: oh
landonorris: u see it?
ynuser: yeah
landonorris: are u okay?
ynuser: yeah im just surprised
landonorris: so you didn't know about it either?
ynuser: obviously not
landnorris: im sorry yn :(
ynuser: why? it's not like he owes me anything lol
-> im happy he started dating again in fact
-> was getting worried lol
landonorris: u sure u good?
-> doesn't really sound like u are
ynuser: im fine
-> plus i need to stay professional. i still have a job and there are crazy fans and all
-> thanks anyways lan
landonorris: alright, im here to talk if u need
-> so is the rest of the grid tbh
❤️ Liked by ynuser
iMessage
Instagram: 03/04
ynuser
Tagged: urmumuser
ynuser a little break back home with the parents doesn't hurt 🌊
@f1's the best for letting me regenerate lost brain cells <3
Liked by f1, fbsfuser, racerbia, and 702,009 others
View all 53,197 comments
f1 we got ur back queen ✊🏼
-> user in the middle of all the drama, this could mean so many things...
-> user well im gonna take it as them sayin that theyre on the right ship :)
user ngl guys the distance rn is probably 'cause yn and osc so close, especially with osc dating brianna, like she probably did it out of respect for them. no one wants to be 'the girl he told me not to worry about' yk.
-> user allegedly dating*
-> user allegedly dating*
user omg the parallelism to brianna with the surfboards 😭
-> user we've truly reached peak delulu i love it
landonorris enjoy ur break from a grid of shitheads 💪🏼
-> carlossainz55 speak for urself
wbuxtonofficial how am i going to handle them without you 0.0
-> ynuser well, not to state the obvious, but drivers are just... humans.
-> georgerussell hilarious
racerbia gorgeous girl 🧡
fbsfuser take me with u 😔
Round 4 (05/04-07/04): Japan
mclaren
Tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris, vindiesel, and mrodofficial
mclaren A little surprise for our papaya boys as they come back from their Friday practices! 🤫 Here's to hoping we go fast and furious in the land of sakura 🌸
Liked by f1, ynuser, racerbia, and 851,092 others
View all 60,004 comments
user the lack of yn's interactions with the whole grid is actually making me glitch throughout this weekend. and it's only friday 💀💀
user omggggg van diesel and michelle rod!!!!!!
user they really be spoiling osc lolll
user it's so weird to see an interview without yn
iMessages
Instagram
mclaren
Tagged: oscarpiastri
mclaren H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y @oscarpiastri!
Our baby driver is 23 today, here in Japan! Drive well, birthday boy! 😎🌸
Liked by f1, fbsfuser, racerbia, and 905,874 others
View all 35,621 comments
user happy birthday ossie!!!
landonorris: our baby is growing up so fast
-> f1 we must shrink him.
user wow she must be pissed if she took her first annual leave during this totally coincidental time
-> user fr sis is fooling no one.
-> user this feels like such a bad omen omg 😭
-> user guys maybe our bestie yn just really needed a break... haha...
briannawood_ happy birthday osc ❤️
-> user oh my god
-> user she actually exists
-> user girl what are you doing here
-> user ayo???
alexalbon happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!
lilyhme HAPPY BIRTHDAY OSC
fbsfuer hbd
-> user oh-
ynuser
Tagged: oscarpiastri
ynuser to the one who vexes me, encourages me, n supports me sm, happy 23rd birthday. i've known you since your rebellious days, trying to prove to the rest of the world how your dream was worth fulfilling, and i'm grateful to have been with you to this very stage of your life. from re-watching cars and fast n furious for over a decade, to re-watching ur races and my interviews, know that i'll always be there, on or off track, no matter what. to the bane of my existence, from ur twin devil x
Liked by others
View all comments
user oh im gonna be sick is she the one who told f1 to invite vin diesel and michelle rod 😭💔
-> user u are spitting facts but in this case facts should not be facting because this is actually making me hyperventilate by all the drama rn
user no im sorry but why does this sound more like a goodbye than a hbd note
user yn trying to prove that she's actually a great write when she wants to be
-> user and SHE IS 😭😭😭
user the way she doesn't sound like herself AT ALL wtf is going on
user this sounds like a very strange way of resigning 💀
-> user YOU TAKE BACK WHAT U SAID RN
Comments on this post have been limited.
Twitter
Round 5 (19/04-21/04): China
ynuser
Tagged: f1
ynuser im back 😈 lovely weather here in china as we start round 5's quali day!! let's get back to it 💪🏼
Liked by others
View all comments
f1 she's back!
user oh my god i thought we were never gonna see her ever again
lewishamilton missed our fav presenter
-> georgerussell frfr!!
-> mclaren actually ☝🏼 she was and will always be OUR fav
fsfbuser welcome back gorgeous <3
user well... the good news is that she sounds normal again
-> user nah bruh im right here in the paddock and she looks nervous/twitchy af
user the besties obvie haven't made up yet 😪
-> user or maybe they never will...
oscarpiastri come on back over to our pit, you left before i finished changing ?
-> user oH WTF
-> user this shit is actually going to be the death of me
-> landonorris i thought we agreed that i'd call her? 🤨
-> charlesleclerc hush for a little while she's over at ours rn
-> user this is too funny
-> user is this a pr trick or some shit 'cause IT'S NOT FUNNY ANYMORE
Twitter
Instagram
oscarpiastri
Tagged: ynuser
oscarpiastri you are never escaping me ever again.
(forgive my impulsive actions tonight everyone, i swear im only ever like this around her)
Liked by landonorris, fbsfuser, ynuser, and 1,397,819 others
View all comments
francisca.cgomes SHUT THE FRONT DOOR. FINALLY.
-> lilymhe I KNOW RIGHT
-> pierregasly oscar can be so oblivious sometimes...
-> fbsfuser boy he was blind, deaf, and dumb for as long as i've known them. like pick a struggle??
-> landonorris i second this
logansargeant kinda giving serial killer vibes but u two are cute enough to forgive that
-> ynuser 🤪
-> maxverstappen1 i can finally go back to the garage in peace without u following me to talk my ear off
-> oscarpiastri u knew this whole time??
user i am going insane.
-> user maybe i hit the blunt too good this time...
-> user @landonorris and @fbsfuser u guys are the gods of all wingmen.
user oh thank god he wasn't actually dating brianna
-> user our queen and king can come back stronger and better now 😩
user your honour, nvm, my parents just got back tgt :D
ynuser 10 years, both of us having a nasty high school relationship each, and a rumour bomb that exploded from underneath me... i think i have every right to try and escape again.
-> oscarpiastri this was not funny when u first said it, and it will never be.
-> logansargeant ok but it kind of is
user my fav writer inspo is now my fav driver's wag MY HEART
landonorris thank god i dont need to listen to the both of you whining anymore
-> ynuser who said we're stopping 🤨
-> oscarpiastri you can't escape me either lando.
-> landonorris this is foul @mclaren i suggest you give me a raise for keeping ur other driver in check
-> f1 haha no.
mclaren thank god we don't have to whisper every time we see something suspicious now
-> redbullracing im ngl, same.
-> astonmartinf1 we once had to watch while they bantered with each other for 10 minutes 🧍🏻♀️
-> scuderiaferrari not that it's a competition, but they were always close to pecking each other whenever they were here
-> alexalbon wait why were they even in any of these garages??
-> mclaren ask oscar why he keeps following her...
user that interview was INSANE
-> user i don't think i've ever seen such a surreal confession oml
Twitter
a/n: lowkey cringey hehe. this was supposed to involve a wedding (for a mclaren engineer not oscyn loll) where they'd all be dressed up (you know... DRESS) but i reached the pics limit 💀 honestly i would've written this out as a one shot or smth but once i start i will never stop... and i have my ibdp math final 😭
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
By the fire
javier escuella x reader
summary: one calm evening you find javier — the newest addition to the gang — sitting alone by the campfire. despite the language barrier still being there, the man finds a way to charm you
wc: 1k
all pics taken from pinterest
♡this was requested!♡
a/n: the song is made up cus i couldn't find any existing song that fit, it's actually a poem i once wrote about a girl i had a crush on lmao this is happening sometime shortly after javier has joined the gang because i thought it'd be cute if y'all didn't know each other's language lol if you know spanish my bad just pretend you don't i guess, but i'd love to write latina reader sometime too
The gang has put up their camp somewhere in the state of Colorado. The day had been tiring, as it always is when you're moving, and everyone must have been wishing for the moment they can finally go to sleep. It didn't surprise you when before midnight everyone had already retreated to their tents or wherever they slept.
Everyone, except for one person. Your eyes caught a glimpse of a silhouette sitting by the scouting fire, away from the center of the camp. The night was dark, but judging by the guitar resting in his lap, you assumed it was Javier.
"You good?" You approached, sitting down next to him. Thankfully, you didn't have to sit on the bare ground, because Pearson had made those rugs of goat skin.
Javier looked up at you, his fingers momentarily stopping their movement on the strings. "Sí, sí, just... muy tired, you know?"
"Me too," you replied, leaning back and stretching your legs out, "me too..."
Javier made so much progress these past few months he's been running with the gang. The day Dutch had brought him into the camp, you wondered how did they even manage to communicate, maybe Dutch did speak some Spanish after all.
"And how are you..." you tried to search for a simple word, but none came easily, "adjusting? Adjusting as... how do you holding up, living with us?"
"Is good, más good than life on my own. Alone is no good. Here with you all I have food, place to sleep. And gente who care, I think."
"Of course we care," you smiled at him, "honestly, I can't imagine the gang without you and your music now."
His lips twitched with a playful smile. "I keep playing then?"
"Yes, please, I'd love to hear more."
"What you want to hear, querida?"
You paused, considering his question. Truth be told, you just loved to hear him play. It didn't matter what the song was about. Most of the time, you didn't even know since he sang in Spanish, so you would catch a few words at most.
So you gave him the choice. "You choose."
Javier's grin widened, and his eyes glistened with a brilliant idea. He adjusted the guitar in his lap, strumming a few notes before looking back at you.
"You know, in Mexico when a man has something to say... something from... el corazón," he placed a hand over his chest, "he sings."
"And what do you have to say, Javier?" You asked, feeling warmth cover you both from the fire, and from this tingling, warm feeling inside your chest.
But instead of answering your question, Javier started playing the guitar. Soft notes of the instrument filled your ears again, and you subconciously smiled wider, even allowing yourself to close your eyes for a moment.
And then, when you thought it can't get any better, Javier started singing. "¿Cómo puedo empezar a decir lo que siento, si mi corazón se detiene al escuchar tu nombre?"
[How can I start to say what I feel, if my heart stops when I hear your name?]
The melody was light, but you could feel he's singing about something that held big significance to him.
He continued, "Quiero perderme en las estrellas de tus ojos, y contigo no quiero esperar al amanecer."
[I want to get lost in the stars of your eyes, and with you I don't want to wait for the sunrise.]
You didn't understand every word, most of them you didn't understand, but the emotion behind them was overwhelming. Javier's words, whatever they meant, reached right into your chest, gently eveloping your heart.
"Dejemos que la luna nos muestre el camino, no hay prisa, solo el latido de nuestros corazones. Contigo, no necesito respuestas, porque tú eres la verdad que siempre he buscado."
[Let the moon show us the way, there is no hurry, only the beat of our hearts. With you, I don’t need answers, because you are the truth I have always looked for.]
The last note faded away, the night became quiet once again, and you opened your eyes, looking at Javier.
"What you think?" He asked.
You struggled to find words that could match the beauty of what he had just shared. "Javier, I..." you shook your head, smiling, "I think that, even if I didn't understand it, I felt it. In my el corazón."
Javier chuckled at your attempt at Spanish, "Maybe next time I teach you the meaning."
You smiled. "I'd like that."
For a while, neither of you said anything more. The quiet night wrapped around the two of you as Javier continued playing some notes on the guitar but none of them hitting you as hard as the song he sang just for you.
"By the way," he decided to speak again, "you don't add el after my. Is just mi corazón."
"Ah, I butchered it." You laughed with embarrassment, even though you knew he didn't correct you to be mean.
He found it very endearing. "No, no, is just... if you want to learn, you learn correct, sí?"
"Fine, fine," you took a deep breath, exaggerating your effort, "mi corazón." You nailed the pronounciation almost perfectly.
"Muy bien," he said, giving an approving nod, "now try gracias, Javier, tú eres el mejor."
You let out a fake groan of annoyance, having an idea what this phrase could mean. "Really?"
"What?" He raised his hands up in a mock innocence. "Is good practice!"
You rolled your eyes playfully but obliged. "Gracias, Javier. Tú eres el mejor."
"Perfecto! See? You learn fast." He applauded you for the effort, clearly very amused.
You sat there with Javier a little longer, the warmth of the fire spreading between you, but it was the warmth of his smile, his laugh, and his song that stayed with you long after you retreated to your tent.
#rdr2#rdr2 x reader#rdr2 community#rdr2 fanfic#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption 2 x reader#javier escuella#javier escuella x reader smut#javier escuella imagine#javier escuella fanfiction
135 notes
·
View notes
Text
Another Life
► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - photographer!wooyoung x fem!reader!Y/N x OT8Teez! (𝒶𝓈 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓈) ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 - fluff, friendship, unrequited love, slice of life, angst, plot twist, slow burn, friends to-strangers to-friends , moving on , happy ending (or is it?) ◄ ► 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - depression, anxiety ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 23.4K ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - someone who was afraid of getting out of their comfort zone and someone who was afraid of committing to anything and anyone is never a good combination. Would Wooyoung remain in your life if you confessed? If he left, what would you do? ◄
► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - Hello! This is my first fanfic, at least here on Tumblr! Cut me some slack I suppose lmao and let me know if I should continue. If so, let me know if you want to be added to my future taglist! Title from Motionless In White. ◄
I'm not God, but they're trying to kill me. This all-knowing desperation I've been feeling for quite sometime now, I mean.
I don't remember the last time I've felt this lonely. There were times where my emotions felt a little too much to handle, but not to the point that rendered me unable to want to feel alive. Today, the sadness drained through me rather than lingering outside my skin, traveling through every nerve, but to my surprise, it rather electrified me to want to do something.
That's good, right? And so I did.
"I'll be back at noon," I told my kind mother, passing through her to try and get to the door before I changed my mind.
"I'm glad you've been going out lately, honey. Let me know when you need anything, okay?" she beamed, quite pleased that I was trying to do something with my life rather than mope around in my room all day.
Oh, how clueless she was. The truth was, I didn't want to let her know about the consuming melancholy that my heart had been feeling.
Ever since I had decided to quit my job, nothing but bad luck has been coming my way. I know it was stupid, to just up and go just because I was unsatisfied with what I was doing, but truth be told, I was not happy anymore. I could never go on doing something I truly wasn't happy with.
But I was bored out of my mind, and most of all, I felt utterly useless and hopeless. It was dangerous - the path my thoughts were taking me. It's the road that led to my burnout, and the impatience this world had always given me.
"No point in trying to convince myself that things would be different," I mumbled to myself, sitting on the park bench nearby.
Click, click
I was so lost in thought that I didn't even notice that my feet took me to the park I always went to when I just wanted to be alone in my thoughts and think of my next move. I suppose I was always so discontented with my life that my body had subconsciously learned what to do on its own.
Click, click
No matter, I thought, I was the master of pushing it through. My path had been very foggy lately, anyway. I just have to be patient if the world can't do it for me so I can wait for it to clear up and show me the next adventure that lay ahead of me.
Click, click
I frowned, what in the hell is that clicking sound I keep hearing?
I pulled my cardigan close, as if doing so would stop the exposure I suddenly felt from being out in the open. I looked around, but there was nothing. There were parents with their children, dogs with their owners, coaches with their students, and ducks with their ponds.
"Miss? You dropped this---"
"Oh my God!" I squealed like cattle about to be slaughtered as I turned around to find the source of the sudden voice. I had always been jittery, you see.
I turned around, and the most handsome man I have ever seen in my life was behind me holding what seems to be my phone. I didn't even realize that I'd dropped it while I was busy spacing out in my thoughts.
His eyes were widened, directed at me. I guess I'm not the only jittery one here.
He had average length hair that swayed with the oncoming wind, but what set it apart was its bright red tone that was as vivid as the flowers that surrounded both of us. His lips were plump and raised into a charming smile and his steps had a bounce to them.
Oh God, be still, my beating heart. I blushed, the red tinge on my cheeks vibrant in contrast to my pale skin. I hope he can't hear how loud my heart is beating.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to shout at you," I was meeker than I usually was.
He saw the surprise register on my face before I could hide it. His smile becomes wider, I guess he gets this a lot, and the heat on my face gets warmer. If he wasn't good-looking before, he definitely was now.
"Don't worry about it, I didn't mean to scare you," he laughed, handing me my phone. I slowly took it, praying that my hands didn't shake too much.
I swallowed. Even his voice was pretty. It reminded me of soft marshmallows, so pillowy and comforting, so sweet and yet so rich at the same time. I mentally slap myself, I haven't gone out in days and the first thing I do is openly check out a guy who was nice enough to give me my phone back instead of running away with it?
My voluntary isolation sure did its number on me.
But then I saw it. There was something slinging across his shoulder - a bag. It donned a big camera that I knew for a fact was quite expensive. So that was the clicking sound I heard earlier, he was a photographer.
"Ah," he began, scratching the back of his head. "I was snapping pictures of you earlier with this." He gently pats the bag. "Would you like to see?"
"S-Sure," I agreed, hesitant.
"I'm not a creep, I promise," he panicked, animatedly defending himself by making a point to wave his hands in front of me. I giggled a little. He was cute. "I do this for a living, street photography I mean."
"I see. I, uh, sorry to disappoint you, Mr..?"
"Oh. I'm Wooyoung. And why are you sorry? I'm the one who took photos of you randomly," he tilted his head in confusion.
"It's not that," I paused, biting my lip, not knowing how to proceed. I don't miss the way his eyes follow the movement. "I haven't been myself lately, so I probably look unfit for your photography concept..."
I wasn't trying to fish for any sort of compliment. It was true, I did look and feel like shit, to put it simply. I haven't been taking care of myself lately - my clothes were wrinkly, my hair was a bird's nest, my eyes had no life in them, and my face has been splotchy with my dark circles and zit marks.
Unlike him. He was casual, but there was coordination with his outfits, and they looked impeccably new.
"On the contrary, Miss...?"
I laughed a bit. He was cute, and very playful at the same time. What a dangerous combination. His mouth curls into a good-natured smirk. "Y/N. Drop the 'miss', it makes me feel old."
It was his turn to laugh a bit. "On the contrary, Y/N, yours was the best photo I have taken this week."
My blush deepens immensely, more than I thought I was able to. I matched it with a small, shy smile as my eyes shone in a way that only genuine happiness and appreciation can bring.
I've always been like that. I wish I didn't get so flustered easily. In a flash, my cheeks are rosy and anyone can peek inside my emotions as I had pried my insides open so they watch for themselves.
"Somehow I don't believe that," I chuckled, mentally rolling my eyes.
"No, I'm serious, here," Wooyoung zips his bag open, brings out the expensive looking camera, and presses a button that brings it back to life. "I'll show you."
Wooyoung scoots closer to me, bringing the equipment near my face so I can see the screen. I was so embarrassed at how much I had the urge to sniff him.
He smelled so good - very musky, leathery but very clean at the same time. It gives me the image of a pure sophistication behind a light curtain that envelops you in warmth.
I let out a light gasp, complete surprise taking over the shyness I felt earlier.
There I was, staring out nowhere in particular at the bench I was brooding my bad mood off on. But it wasn't me that stole both of our attention, there was a beautiful wisteria tree I hadn't noticed before behind me.
It was beautiful. The way they cascaded into this marvelous tendrils of purple beauty blended with how forlorn my expression was; the longing, regret, and despondence clearly evident, like the slow descent of its lilac petals, way down they go.
To the naked eye, it looked like a depressed girl with a pretty tree in the background, but to me and Wooyoung, it was so much deeper than that. The photo held so much depth, because at the same time, there was relief in my features. The sadness was exquisite.
"You," I paused, swallowing to force the words out of my mouth. "You made me look human."
"What makes you think I didn't capture you because you were the most human looking in here?"
His smile was the prettiest thing I've seen in a while, prettier than the wisteria, and I can tell it was genuine. I could have melted in a puddle right there. His eyes sparkle like the night sky as he browses at each photo he had taken. He had the passion I lacked.
"Do you want copies of it?" Wooyoung inquired.
Did I want copies of it? Did I want to stare at myself and get reminded every time about how lonely my life currently was? I don't know, I wasn't the sentimental type. He senses my hesitation and frowns a bit.
He grabs a small piece of card and hands it to me. "Here's my card," he points at it. "That's the address, come swing by whenever you have the chance and I will give it to you, okay?"
I bit my lip apprehensively with a nod, pocketing the card in my cardigan. "Alright, I will think about it."
"I hope you do," he clicks his tongue, swiping it across his bottom lip. I stopped breathing for a second. "I wouldn't want to waste such a pretty photo."
I swallowed. "A-Ah, do I have to pay for it?"
"I guess you're going to have to find out, hmm?" he smirked, gently tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "There, much better."
I froze, not really knowing what to do. I sighed softly, I have been so deprived of touch because I poured all of my time on work. Well, at least what used to be my work.
Wooyoung juts his hand out, waiting for me to shake it. I grabbed his hand halfheartedly. "I hope we see each other again," he said.
After we said our goodbyes - him being bubbly to the very end as he walked away and me just nodding as I watched him go - I treaded my way home.
I took out the card he gave me earlier, which turned out to be a business card, I realized, and not just a personal card. Of course, Y/N, he just met you, why would he give you his personal details? As I inspected the card further, it brought me slight joy to know that his work place wasn't far from my house, just a couple of blocks away.
I was hesitant, truth be told, it was probably a one time encounter, most likely a business tactic to get someone to go into their studio and do business with them. I felt bad because Wooyoung seemed like a genuine person, but there was no way I was adding any sort of change in my current life right now, my mind was a mess as is.
With that, I crumpled up the card and threw it in the nearest bin.
I paused at the doorway, hesitating before anyone - Wooyoung - knew I was here. I knew I had to go in, and by God, I was nervous as hell. I just needed a few minutes to compose myself.
The curiosity had been eating away at me. It had been 2 weeks before deciding I would stop prancing around at it and just get it over with.
To hell with it, I thought, hastily putting on the most mediocre outfit I can get away with today. It wasn't meant to impress, a simple white tee paired with jeans and sneakers was enough to look decent and be comfortable at the same time.
Deep inside, maybe I just wanted to see the striking photographer again and hear his voice; to see his sparkling eyes that quickly held me in like a moth to a flame.
I stepped in and was immediately greeted by a myriad of photographs that were just placed where they were, the closest thing we get to a time capsule. I was immediately amazed by how versatile the photos were - all of them had their own stories to tell.
A photograph of an old, vintage clock caught my attention. I'm not very knowledgeable, but it was an antique, I was sure of it. It was made out of wood that probably looked sleek during its era.
Unconsciously, I touched the frame, like it would come back to life if I did. Then, I saw something at the bottom right of the frame. Taking a closer look, it was a series of small letters stamped on it.
J. WY/Budapest, Hungary/2023/Paradigm
I traced the embossed letters lightly with my fingertips. It was obvious that this one was Wooyoung's piece. He had a very particular style in his art, he tended to focus on the subjects and the corresponding backgrounds were something to compliment the subject, and not to supply added detail. It was very interesting.
"I can hear the gears in your head turning from where I am."
I was a deer in headlights once more with him. "You got a thing for sneaking up on me?" I teased.
There he was in his handsome glory leaning by the door with his arms crossed. "Maybe," he smirked coyly.
My heart went up to my throat when I realized that today, his hair slicked back today. I was able to see his face clearly, his beauty was insane. Heaven knows I would look like a wet chicken. He walks steadily towards me and stares fondly at the vintage watch photo.
"I went to Budapest with all of my friends, we all work in this studio together, for a vacation," he chuckled, reminiscing. "But I couldn't resist not taking the scenery for work. God, that place was beautiful..."
Just like you.
I cringed internally, turning my head a bit away from him so he couldn't see the grimace on my face. It wasn't a lie, he was beautiful, but I wasn't going to admit that to him, or anybody for that matter.
"I like them," I thoughtfully mumbled.
Wooyoung turns to look at me, and I tried very hard not to look at him back by pretending that I was inspecting the photo furthermore. There was not a lick of knowledge in my head about photography, I hope he doesn't notice that.
He stares for what seemed like forever, not blinking nor breathing, the effect was a slow burn waiting to incinerate the thin thread that bound us both. Although I wasn't looking straight at him, it was his lips that gave away that he knew that I knew what he was doing; he wasn't smiling, there was just a slight tilt on one corner.
"Do you, now?" he wondered, now full-on smirking.
"Yes," I affirmed. Was that rhetoric? Was I supposed to say no?
He audibly sighed, and I frowned. I know that sound, it was the sound of negative memories suddenly surging our minds, crashing in like a tidal wave, and my, once you start? They become very addicting, slowly consuming your thoughts until they become no more.
"You know, I never used to look at the photos I snap after I take 'em?" Wooyoung's smile was tinged with hurt, but more so of reminisce. "I just snap, snap, and then keep snapping and hope for the best outcome when San develops them in the back for me."
"Is that what you did when you stole those moments of mine a couple of weeks back?" I swallowed nervously, my body was already anxious and my brain is trying to catch up on it any moment now.
"No," he firmly articulated, so firmly my heart leapt to my throat and tightened it further.
Wooyoung gently grabs my chin, turning it towards himself so I can make eye contact with him. "Because I knew you wouldn't come back to me until a few days after. I saw it in your eyes."
To him? This was the second time he stole something from me. Instead of a photo, now it was the breath from my lungs. I am on fire, my skin was burning from his touch.
"Frankly, I wasn't expecting two weeks, that was longer than I anticipated," he chuckled lowly, his thumb caressing my cheek tenderly, and I let him. I was too frozen to protest.
"You knew all that even before you approached me that day? From that far?" I raised a brow. I was hesitant, but I was willing to play his game even though I knew he was probably bullshitting me.
"I'm a photographer, Y/N. It's my job to look through the windows of people's souls---"
"What do you want from me?"
Wooyoung lets go of my face, hands now in his pockets. He doesn't look a bit surprised, just a little concerned. "What do you mean?" he frowned, tilting his head to the side in wonder.
The paranoia in me had always been borderline terrified of not only trying new things, but also meeting new people in association. The underlying fear of deception from years and years of let down between family and friends has rendered me closed off of opening allowances to let myself experience new things and let people in.
"You act like we're friends, and we are not," I bit my lip, exasperated. "I don't like that."
"Are you saying that there are certain prerequisites to being friends with other people?" Wooyoung tuts, frowning deeper. "Everyone has to start from somewhere, no?"
He was right, I can admit that. I began to see how my self-deprecating thoughts had kept me all alone, and frankly, I was none the wiser on what it's like on the side.
"I'll tell you what, Y/N, how about I give you your photo and you can tell me what you're thinking over coffee, perhaps? I make a mean cup of coffee," Wooyoung suggested kindly, his eyes shining in anticipation for my response.
I frowned, shuffling my feet in anxiety. "What if people come inside your studio? And your friends?"
"Don't worry about that," he smiled, already taking a step towards the other room where he came from. "We actually don't open on the weekends. I just always came in because I was worried you would come looking for me when I wasn't here."
It was such a simple gesture, but it blew both my heart and my mind. My heart is so full right it could burst in any minute.
Wooyoung flashes me his million dollar smile, the one that made me want to see him again, and holds his hand out for me to grab. "Why are you hesitating?"
"I hesitate because I need to be sure because for the first time in a while, there are things that I do want, and the consequences of my errors would forever haunt me," I blurted uncontrollably, babbling before I could stop my mouth from speaking.
My mind began to work overload with anxiety but before I could act out on them, Wooyoung laughed out loud. His eyes crinkle upwards into the cutest crescents, and his beautiful lips stretched out with mirth.
His laughter reminded me of a fox, loud and boisterous, and I couldn't help but join in with him as he warmed my soul and made my day. "You're fine, come on," he urged me in between laughter.
More photos, albeit with unfinished frames, greeted me when I followed Wooyoung into what I can only assume was the kitchen. It was small, but it was nice and actually very functional. I sat into one of the sleek, modern stools and leaned towards the small kitchen island while Wooyoung went to town and made both of us coffee.
"Sugar?" he absentmindedly asked.
"H-Huh?" I was a deer in sudden headlights.
Wooyoung seemed to be confused too as we both looked at each other in bewilderment. Without warning, his face contorts into a laughing mess again, making me blush.
"I was asking if you wanted sugar in your coffee," he chuckled. "Although if you want me to call you sugar, that could be arranged too."
I blushed even deeper, awkwardly covering my face in embarrassment. I felt the tips of my ears heat up and I must have looked so stupid in front of him. "Stop," I groaned, my voice muffled by my hands.
And being the gentleman he was, he did actually stop teasing me.
But it was mainly because he had two steaming mugs of coffee carefully balanced with his two hands as he walked towards me. I mumbled a 'thanks' when I received mine.
"Now we can talk about why you're very sad," Wooyoung took a sip from his mug without breaking eye contact with me. I gulped.
My brows shot upwards in surprise and my eyes widened in apprehension at the same time. "How did you know I was sad?" I inquired, not sure on how to react.
Wooyoung smiled mischievously. "I just do," he winked.
Having no choice, and frankly having no one to talk to in general, I told him everything. I told him how I had quit my previous job because I was beginning to feel very unhappy with the toxicity that surrounded me and how suffocating it was to stay in a place where you weren't even wanted.
I told him how I was trying to look for another job, but the fear of trying a new one and not being sure if it was a good suit for me was a little daunting, so to speak.
He listened attentively to each word I said, not once interjecting to put his two cents in before I was done finishing, and only asking me some small questions for the sake of clarification.
It almost makes me want to cry at how attentive he was to me, even though this was only the second time we're meeting. The way his eyes bore into me while I poured my heart out, the way he would nod and acknowledge the things I would say, he was such a good listener.
I can't say I've had too many good friends in my life, though there have been a few close ones, they were not enough for me to say that they were good to me. Wooyoung seemed to be a rare gem, one that I would love to keep for myself.
"What if I told you I know a place where you can start working?"
"You do?" I was hopeful.
Wooyoung nodded. "But are you sure you're going to be okay going to work so soon again?"
My chest warms up with his words. "I have to do it," I sighed deeply. "Y-You were right, if I don't start now, then I won't start at all."
He smiles broadly. "That's a good outlook, I like that..."
He proceeded to tell me about the boutique down the street a couple of blocks away from his studio and they were looking for someone to keep tabs of sale and returned products. As it turned out, the owner was Wooyoung's very close friend and the boutique was where they get their clothes and props whenever they had a photoshoot going on.
"He's a nice guy and I'm positive he'll like you, just let me call him so I can pitch in a word for you, hmm?" Wooyoung pulled his phone out and was about to dial the number, but I interjected before he could do it.
"W-Wait, don't do it," I squeaked, holding my hands out to him to stop him from doing so.
"What's the matter?" Wooyoung's eyes softened at my panicked state and I almost felt bad. I barely knew this man and he probably thinks I'm so pathetic already. It was disheartening.
"You've helped me so much already, I'd feel bad if you did this for me," I admitted.
"And what exactly have I done for you?"
"Listening to me rant was a big thing for me, and you do make a mean coffee," I giggled, he smiles shyly. "And you gave me justice on the photo you took of me."
"Speaking of that," Wooyoung stood up from his stool. "Wait here."
He left to go back to the front entrance of the studio, and he came back immediately. "Here."
He nudged a square-shaped packaging in front of me. I took it and from touch, I knew it was a picture frame that he had wrapped so carefully and perfectly, there were no creases on the wrap. My heart was beating so fast and my fingers were shaking ever so slightly.
"Open it when you get home," he instructed. "And I'm going to call him, my friend I mean. If I'm helping you anyway, I might as well go all out on it."
"It's not a big deal," Wooyoung continued when I didn't respond, playfully flicking my forehead. "What are friends for?"
An explosive sensation boomed its way into my head all the way down to my chest, leaving a searing type of numbness in its trail. "Okay," I mumbled.
Unfortunately, I had to say goodbye to him because I told my mother I was only picking the picture frame up, I was not expecting to stay this long, so she was probably worried. Fortunately, Wooyoung understood and walked me out. We couldn't properly converse afterwards anyway because a client of his suddenly called out of the blue after he had dropped the call with his boutique owner friend.
We said our goodbyes and I speed walk all the way to my house with the carefully wrapped picture frame in my hands. There was an explosion in my brain - the good kind - and a surge of excitement that electrified my whole being. I could feel it in my bones.
This is the very time I have ever been excited with a mystery. I hated surprises growing up because I was scared I wouldn't like the surprise.
With no time to waste, I quickly locked myself in my room, taking all of my clothes off in a haste and replacing them with something more comfortable and nap worthy. I unwrapped the gift like an animal tearing its prey apart to find their treasure inside.
Tears found their way in my eyes. I had no words, the photo itself was beautiful, I had seen it before, but Wooyoung had left a small note taped on the frame for me to read when I opened it.
You're worth more than you think. Wanna hang out tomorrow, beautiful? I also make mean brownies ;)
I completely broke down, hysterically crying not from sadness, but from the joy of the events that have been happening to me. Maybe being his friend wasn't so bad after all.
"So you must be Y/N, correct?"
Having a direct connection like Wooyoung did wonders from my interview process and I was called exactly a week after he made the call.
"Y-Yes, I am," I did a deep 90 degree bow immediately, but not before the man's eyes widened a bit. "L/N Y/N, Sir. I'm very h-honoured to be chosen for this role."
Needless to say, I am a nervous wreck. Wooyoung conveniently forgot to tell me that this was no ordinary boutique. It's a very well known fashion brand that had the catchy 'started from the bottom, now we're here' origin story.
I opened my eyes, I didn't notice they were tightly shut before, when I felt hands nudging me to stand up straight. "It's okay," he laughed. "I don't bite, please stand up..."
This one was handsome as well. He had an edgier style to him that was unique to him and him only. Think bold, defiant, and unconventional. His blue hair added to that grunge aesthetic.
He cleared his throat before speaking. "Kim Hongjoong, owner, and your future boss," he grinned.
My face pales a bit. The Kim Hongjoong? The great mind behind the boutique NO1LIKEME? The one Wooyoung had casually called and got me in? What has my life become in a month?
"Scaring the new girl already, Joong?"
I turned around, and a taller man with dark hair and almond shaped eyes smiled lightly at me with his thick lips. I almost rolled my eyes, either I'm losing my mind, or Wooyoung, himself, and all of his friends are all damn attractive.
"Oh, this is her?" he pointed at me, to which Hongjoong nodded. "I see. Song Mingi, thank you for considering us."
Thank me? I scoffed internally, the co-founder of NO1LIKEME is thanking me for working with them? I suppose that was why they were successful.
Mingi excused himself to man the business while Hongjoong had toured me around the shop. It was a lot bigger on the inside than I had initially thought.
I couldn't help but become very excited as Hongjoong showed me how he personally designs most of their pieces without trying to mass produce the majority of their products, which was very respectable on his end because mass producing can downgrade their quality.
The brand that I only reached in my dreams is now my workplace. I have to thank Wooyoung personally when I see him again.
They needed someone to do inventory checks and match them with the accountancy department. Hongjoong has a big project coming soon to collaborate with an international brand and Mingi has to take over for now while he's abroad. Fair enough.
As we were about to go into his office to sit down and discuss further, I stopped in my tracks. The most gorgeous black, flared dress was hanging in one of the posts. It's very simple, but very versatile, not too long as it stopped above the knee, and the sheer bodice elevated it.
"You like it?" Hongjoong asked before I had the chance to feel the fabric.
"I love it, actually. I've never seen anything like it," I admitted.
He chuckled, plucking the dress from its hanger and handed it to me gently after he folded it in half. "Make sure it's well-loved, then, because it's yours now."
"W-What?" I spluttered, eyes wide open. "No, I was just admiring it, I can't possibly take it. C-Can I pay for it, at least?"
"Think of it as your first day perk," he shrugged. "And no offense, giving away one dress isn't going to make a dent in my business."
I blushed, embarrassed to the highest degree. I was just about to thank him profusely when Mingi suddenly popped his head by the door.
"They're here," was all he said before Hongjoong and I walked back into the main part of the shop.
And there he was - Wooyoung. He was in an engrossed conversation with Mingi along with another - surprise, surprise - handsome man. He had a manlier aura to him compared to the other three, which was an interesting mix to his feline features.
Wooyoung, as if sensing I was present, turned to my direction and the look in his eyes made my insides churn in excitement. His friends were all pretty, but none of them had an effect on him like he did.
"Hey Joong," Wooyoung greeted after approaching me and Hongjoong from across the boutique. He smiled even brighter as he ruffled my hair lightheartedly. "Are you taking care of my Y/N?"
I blushed beet red, lowering my gaze with a nervous laugh to avoid any sort of eye contact. He can't just say these things and not expect me to react! The cat-looking man Wooyoung was with smirks at me, clearly amused.
But maybe, it was just me putting more to it than I should. Wooyoung has been nothing but kind to me and I can't reciprocate that with anything other than gratefulness.
"Get the hell out of here," Hongjoong chided, rolling his eyes, but teasingly because his eyes were full of the same mischief, but they were gone when he turned to me. "My assistant, Jongho, will call you sometime this week so you can get started officially."
I stopped the urge to bow deeply again at him as he turned around to go back behind the shop and instead repeated multiple 'thank yous' at him to express my gratitude.
"Y/N, this is San, my long time friend and co-worker in the studio," Wooyoung introduced me to the other guy he was with when there were just the three of us left.
San smiles and his deep dimples pop out along with it. He nods in acknowledgement. "Very nice to meet you, Y/N, I personally loved that one photo of yours that Wooyoung took."
"He is a good taker," I shyly replied, blushing at the compliment, although I knew it wasn't directly referenced to me.
San snorted. "Yeah, that's the only thing he's good at."
"Hey!"
Wooyoung playfully swatted San's bulky arms in defense. We all had a small laugh before they both noticed the bag I was holding with the dress inside of it. I simply told both of them that Hongjoong had just given it to me after I admired it.
Behind the strict demeanor of being a boss, was the very generous and giving nature of Hongjoong, apparently. He had meant to give me something anyway simply because I was now friends with them, and also because Wooyoung spoke highly of me. I slightly felt bad because really, I would have been fine without it.
I should have thanked him more before he left.
"I would love to stay with you both and hang out," San glances at his phone to check the time. "But I have business to attend to. Where's Mingi?"
I pointed at some random door where I saw the latter enter earlier. I was about to leave since technically today wasn't my first day, just an introduction to the shop, and was about to basically run back to my house, when Wooyoung follows me out the door and slings his arms across my shoulders.
"Oh, you're leaving San?" I halted on my tracks, blushing profusely like some hormonal teenager that's never been touched by the opposite sex before.
"He was never meant to come," he chuckled. "I was about to fetch you and he decided he was going to come with me since he has to pick up some props from this gig we have next week."
My heart was pounding against my chest like a bird wanting to be out of its cage. He was so close to me, so close I could smell his breath, his body heat seeping into my subliminal thoughts.
This was an invasion, an unwanted intimacy. How have I lived without it for so long?
"Are you tired?" Wooyoung suddenly asked, breaking my thoughts apart and scattering them with the wind.
"N-No, not really. Why?"
He pulls me closer, my body plush against his. I wanted to melt. "Good," he grinned. "Let's go."
He starts to walk, but I plant my feet firmly on the ground. "Woah, wait, where are we going?"
"Would you say yes if I said I already reserved a spot to this brunch spot?"
I blinked owlishly at him. "No, I can't, I already ate before I called Mingi..."
The truth was, I was slightly ashamed to go. The last thing I wanted was to be treated like some sort of charity case.
Also the reason being, no matter how hard I try, I will think of this as a date.
Wooyoung pouts, his hold on me loosening a bit. "Pretty please? What, are you sick of me already because we hang out everyday now?"
My breath hitched, and I was this close to giving in, but I must prevail and resist those big, beautiful eyes that were holding me captive like a tight vice.
"Maybe next time---" I sheepishly began to say, but a prominent growl made both me and Wooyoung freeze.
I cursed under my breath in shame. My stomach had growled, begging to be fed, and had basically called me out on my lie.
"Yeah, you ate alright," Wooyoung sarcastically remarked.
The next thing I knew, Wooyoung had pretty much dragged me to this retro looking place. It was the opposite of intimate and warm, rather, it was very bright and lively, filled with colorful tables, a snack bar, and the entire wall was made to be a canvas for purposeful graffiti.
Immediately, we sat at the very end of all of the available tables and no time was wasted when we ordered something quick, yet filling for the both of us; a clubhouse sandwich for me and a cheeseburger for Wooyoung.
"This place is so nice, where'd you find it?" I was still mesmerized by the whole setup.
"Picked it out with you in mind," he smirked.
Instead of blushing like I usually do, I let out a genuine laugh. "Seriously," I shook my head playfully.
"I am serious," he expressed with a slight frown.
"Are you like this with all the people you meet?" I mused, curious on what he has to say.
"Like what?"
"You know, you are a very touchy-feely person, certainly very outgoing as well. Do you usually hang out with everyone like this?"
He paused, staring at me with a blank expression. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly drying up, my breath slowing down.
"Yes, I am," he articulated after a while. "I was born this way I suppose, I swear I don't purposely flirt with everybody I meet."
"Oh," I murmured.
My heart sank, it felt like concrete weighing it down. The high of being out with Wooyoung in one moment was cut down the next. Is this what heartbreak felt like?
A hand on top of mine fully enveloped it with warmth. "But you," Wooyoung's thumbs caressed my knuckles with a small smile. "You're different. I can't explain it, Y/N, I've been trying to reason with myself."
"What do you mean?" It was my turn to ask.
His hand squeezed mine, but I felt like my heart got squeezed instead. "Meeting you was unexpected, but I'm so sure it was written. You're very easy to talk to, and I feel like I'm someone and more. It's either you or I'm alone, do you understand what I'm getting at?"
Of course I do. There has not been a day where we haven't seen each other ever since I stepped foot in that studio.
"I do," I nodded my head, smiling purely at him. "I felt good with you in a way I haven't before with other people, Woo. Thank you for approaching me that day, I'm glad to be your...friend."
His eyes widen a bit and he freezes. "What?" I nervously asked. He giggled like a child with no worry, he was just happy.
"You called me 'Woo', I like it."
I nervously laughed, mumbling a little yeah. I didn't even notice.
Luckily for me, our food came in and swooped me out of an incoming awkward conversation, at least on my end.
I couldn't help but let out an endearing smile as I watched Wooyoung thank the waiter kindly and then drool at his cheeseburger. Everything about him was so captivating; he felt like a warm, cozy home.
For now, the glue keeping my heart together is strong. He deserved a good friend, and I will be that for him.
Wooyoung opened his mouth midair when he caught me staring at him. "Dig in, your food will get cold," he mused with concern.
I nod my head at him with a smile. I think he and I are going to be fine.
Approximately seven months have passed by since that fateful day. Passing each time with Wooyoung, in the most obscure of situations, made my heart yonder and sing in tunes I never knew were so melodious.
"You know what I've been thinking lately?" Wooyoung mumbled all of a sudden.
He was currently laying on my lap while I played with his hair with one hand and held a book near to my face with the other. "What were you thinking, Woo?"
Safe to say, we've gotten so close with each other, soaking into moments enveloped in warmth, and the happiness was the contentment I never knew I'd ever feel in this lifetime.
Chasing time next to him was my salvation; my heaven on earth.
"Do you have a goal in this life?"
I raised a brow at the sudden question, peeking at him from where I was. He was already staring at me from below, and my blushing cheeks never really got better.
"Too deep of a question this morning," I chuckled. "But what do you mean? Everyone has a goal in life, whether they know it or not."
"True, but what I meant to say is, have you ever had a list of things you wanted to do? Regardless of how weird they are or how unattainable, do you know what I'm trying to say?" Wooyoung, and he did, he was always so dramatic about it.
I gave him a hum before responding. "Are you having an existential crisis?"
"Maybe," he laughed in that contagious, fox-like laugh of his. "So do you?"
"I-I have this small bucket list from when I was like 10," I admitted, lifting my book to hide my face.
Suddenly, it was yanked from me and thrown across the room. My mouth hung in shock. "Wooyoung!"
"Pay attention to me," he pouted.
"What the hell are you? A baby?" I rolled my eyes so far back up my head I was surprised they didn't get stuck behind my head.
"Only if it's yours--ow!" I yanked his hair in warning before I exploded from all the constant flirting. Some things never change.
"Anyway," I paused a bit to think, but decided to just say what was on my mind in the end. "I want to go to Mars."
I held my breath, expecting to hear an obnoxious cackle from Wooyoung, but there was nothing. When I glanced down, there he was - waiting expectantly for me to continue.
"I've always wanted to see a rainbow at nighttime, and no, the Aurora Borealis doesn't count."
"Interesting," he whispered. "Keep going."
The way Wooyoung was looking at me with a soft expression, and I must have looked dumb - my eyes were dilated a bit, dazed, like my brain was having a short circuit.
"Last, I gulped. "I want to hold my breath for a minute straight."
He raised his brows in amusement. "I'm not good at doing it," I defended myself, slightly embarrassed. "The most I've done was 15 seconds."
Wooyoung didn't say anything, he just stared at me intently in the eye as if he was counting all the eyelashes I had attached. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. I frowned.
"What about you?" I softly asked. "Anything you'd like to do?"
It takes a solid minute for him to reply. "No, nothing in particular," he mumbled, his voice strained. "I don't like committing to something for a long time, you know that."
Indeed, I do. Once again, the shattering reality of how temporary all this was for the both of us was tearing me in two.
"There's just so much out there, you know?" Wooyoung continued. "So much to see, so much to feel, how can I just stay in one place?"
Wooyoung loved photography above anything else and was willing to spread his wings and venture out to find the perfect piece. He disliked committing his all in one place in case he had to leave one day.
I remember the exact night we talked about it, a rainy day in July where we got too sentimental. I felt like choking, but there was nothing I could do, for this man was not mine to begin with.
"You know I will support you in whatever you want to do," I forced a smile on my face even though my mouth was on fire and my tongue hurt from the lies.
Wooyoung, again, stared at me intently. I blushed deep red, it looked like he was gazing through my skin and peeking through the darkest, deepest parts of my soul. The heat from his hooded eyelids emanated conflicted emotions, and then I saw it die as quick as it came.
"I know."
His sudden playful smirk painting his beautiful face throws me for a whiplash. Whatever that was, never happened.
He whips his phone out and starts tinkering with it with a concentration that looks too good on him - his stupidly attractive arms get veinier when he's concentrating and his brows furrowed together.
"Mars, huh?" he muttered, smirking, still not looking up from his phone.
"Yes? Don't make fun of me," I frowned.
"I'm not," he retorted. I looked at him in disdain. "I'm really not, I swear!"
I chose not to reply. Typical Woyooung, but that's what makes him so damn loveable; he was just being himself.
A couple of minutes later, Wooyoung pockets his phone, stands up dramatically, and hovers over me. "Get dressed," he said. "We're going somewhere."
I blinked repeatedly at him, and some more. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"What's wrong with my outfit right now?" I gestured to my oversized shirt and leggings.
He snorted comically. "Trust me, you're gonna need more than that."
Wooyoung saw the hesitation in my eyes. He hated committing as much as I hated trying new things. He extends his hand in front of me.
"I've never led you astray, you know that," he whispered.
I nodded, taking his hand in mine. Even before he had asked, I was doomed anyway. How could I ever say no to him?
Turns out he was right - I did need the extra layers.
It was, indeed, very cold right now. Wooyoung and I were currently in line, a line so long that it reached the outside of the establishment, and it was where we currently were.
"Woo, are you sure about this?" I asked through gritted teeth. "It's too windy, I think my fingers will fall off soon."
As if on cue, he pulls me closer to him. "It shouldn't take too long," he mumbled. "You okay?"
I nodded, humming a reply back at him. As long as I'm with you, everything will be alright...
"I must say," I began. "I didn't take you to be the museum type of guy."
Yes, we were currently in line to get inside this museum I have never ever seen before even though I've lived in this city my whole life. Wooyoung got both of us last minute tickets. The place was currently jam packed, the line was endless from behind us.
"I'm not," he shrugged. "I want to show you something."
My mind went into overdrive when Wooyoung quickly glanced at me before he looked back at the pamphlet he was holding. It was only a split second, but it was enough for me to infer the anticipation he had for this.
It was contagious and the dread I felt ebbed away.
"History and geology are both at the far right, art is by your left, cartography is unfortunately out of service indefinitely, and science is just straight ahead..."
The monotonous, robotic voice from the speaker all over when we got inside could have instructed better, but it was definitely better than getting lost. This place was massive.
"Let's go," Wooyoung enthusiastically grabbed my hand as we explored all the things we passed by.
"Oh Woo, look at that!" I giggled uncontrollably and hastily pointed out what I saw.
It was a life sized wood carving of a wisteria tree - the most beautiful thing I have ever seen as of late. Wooyoung squeezed my hand as we both approached it, reveling at the detail of whoever was its creator.
"Reminds you of something, doesn't it?" he smirked.
"How can I forget how we met?" I playfully rolled my eyes.
He laughed out loud, causing some people to look our way, but we couldn't care less. "As much as I want to stay, there's somewhere else we have to be," he winked.
He led me to the direction he, then, wanted to go. The way he pulled me with him made my heart swell. At the very moment, I blocked all the sounds, the chatter, from the background and I could only see him.
Just when I felt like leading my heart somewhere else, he pulled it back towards him; a magnet I had no choice but to get attached to.
"W-Wooyoung?"
My eyes widened in disbelief when we stopped at something in particular. "I-Is this w-what I think it is?" I stuttered uncontrollably, gripping his hand tighter and tighter until he put his other hand on top of mine to stop me from shaking.
"Relax," he cooed. "And yes, it most certainly is."
Wooyoung had led me to the science section of the museum where there was a small room we could go inside - a planetarium. Today they just so happened to be exhibiting the planet Mars.
Wooyoung took me to Mars.
"Shall we go in?" Wooyoung gently guided me inside. My legs were weighted with lead, I couldn't do this on my own.
My breath came out in short intervals, my feelings overwhelming my sense of excitement muddled into a plate full of shock, confusion, and joy as I looked around the place with Wooyoung still holding my hand in his as if he knew I'd fall without him.
The whole room had a blue haze to it, the ceiling itself was a cool shade of midnight blue with little specks of white dots that were presumably the stars in the night sky.
They covered the whole blue like snowflakes, and they would twinkle, or rather, blink at us, watching what we would do next.
I turned to look at Wooyoung, and my tears started to fall on their own. There was panic in his eyes, but he pulled me into a quick hug, and I hugged him back just as tight.
We didn't say a word, just basking in our body heat together with the stars as our witness.
He kissed my forehead tenderly before pointing out to a distance. "Look."
I gasped rather dramatically - it was Mars itself!
Or at least, a really big ball that was probably made out of styrofoam and dyed into the shade of rust red that mimicked the real deal.
"Before we go there, wipe your tears, jelly bean. I want you to be happy today..."
But he wiped my own tears for me anyway. Oh Wooyoung, I thought with dread. How do you expect me to not selfishly wish for you to stay instead of finding your own dreams?
Instead of a repeating robot telling everybody Mars' information, luckily it was an actual person making a presentation, like that of a tour guide but this one instead explained the planet with so much depth and detail.
Wooyoung makes an exaggerated "ah!" sound when the lecturer explains that the reason why Mars was red was because of the oxidation happening in regolith, the soil on the said planet, and thus making it appear red.
"Does anybody know how many moons the planet Mars has?" the lecturer had questioned with a pleasant smile.
"Two!" a teenager from the crowd had answered.
"Correct! Does anybody know what they're called?"
The crowd made confused noises and everyone seemed to be stumped for answers. I looked around and nobody seemed to know what they were, and even Wooyoung mutters something about not knowing that even moons had names. I sighed, mentally preparing myself so I don't get nervous.
"Phobos and Deimos," I had managed to answer without stuttering.
The lecturer looked surprised, but happy nonetheless that at least someone in the crowd knew. "That is correct!"
"Nerd," Wooyoung snickered. I elbowed him, too happy to let his jokes get to me.
When it got too crowded, we both decided to leave the museum as a whole. One thing we both had in common was that after a while, the air got stuffy when there was too much going on in one place.
The bus ride home was silent, but comfortable, and in reality, we were both too tired to talk anyway. With an adrenaline of short-lived bravery, I leaned my head against Wooyoung's shoulder. I sighed in relief when he didn't push me away.
"Did you have fun?" he asked with genuine curiosity when we both reached my front door.
"Did you?" I asked back with an equal amount of curiosity.
He nodded enthusiastically. "Of course I did, why wouldn't I?"
"You really didn't have to do this---"
He put his finger against my lip, effectively shutting me up and shutting my brain off as well. "Why can't you just enjoy the things I do for you?"
Because I am slowly getting more and more delusional with every single second I spend more with you and I keep imagining of what we would be like a few months from now- am I going to be alone again or will you remain in my life---
I shook my head to rid myself of the nastiest thoughts that keep coming through my psyche, but along with those was another burst of blood rushing to my brain that makes me do the unthinkable.
"Woah, woah," Wooyoung voice out, amused that I was initiating skin contact first.
"Just shut up and let me hug you," I voiced out, but it came out muffled because my face was currently buried in his chest. "Thank you, Wooyoung, thank you very much, you have no idea what this means to me."
Wooyoung rocked me back and forth, healing my inner child. "I think I do," he whispered so softly I almost didn't hear him. "Just let it out..."
It was the first time he ever saw me cry willingly. The hands that patted my back provided me the solace I currently needed. They were gentle, soothing even. He had always been so patient with me, and those hands...
Of all the things my hands have held, the best by far was his.
I felt selfish, so damn selfish, for feeling this way. But it's okay, none of it matters at this moment.
Hey, ladybug. I don't think I'm able to make it in time today, or at all. Client is being finicky and all, I'm about to charge them extra for this. I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you soon, hmm?
- J. WY
I heaved a loud, disappointed sigh as I locked my phone before pocketing it. My frown deepens and my brows knit in today's unexpected turn of events.
"That Wooyoung?"
"Yeah, says he can't make it today. Something about a shitty client," I shrugged.
I had invited Wooyoung last week to my family's dinner reunion. My whole family had taken a liking to Wooyoung - who wouldn't? - and my brother had suggested I invite him. This year, we were at our Uncle Yeonjun's place.
"It's not the end of the world," my brother teased.
I snorted loudly. "That obvious, Yeo? You look more crestfallen than I do."
Yeosang laughs heartily, taking a sip at whatever concoction our mother made. "I mean, I've only known him longer than you," he joked.
It turned out that Woyooung was part of my brother's friend group, talk about coincidence. "Besides, you gotta cheer up before anyone notices," he added.
"Why?"
"Because you look like a lovesick puppy that got abandoned by its owner," he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "No offense to our cousins, but they can be do damn nosy, especially Soobin and Kai."
I knew that Yeosang was just trying to distract me from whatever I was feeling. As per his advice, I faked a smile just so nobody questions why I'm feeling so down.
Wooyoung was currently out of town and had been so busy with his job so we haven't really seen each other for a couple of days now, however we do call each other every night.
My train of thoughts were squashed when Yeosang elbows me gently. "Hey," he said with a soft smile. "You want to get us food so I take you home?"
If I were to write on a piece of paper of how much my older brother has done for me, the trees would cease to exist from all the paper and wood for all the pencils.
The night wasn't all that bad, Yeosang did everything in his power to distract me and even brought our cousins into it, not that they knew what was up. We took the party to the backyard, just singing, dancing, and fooling around like the young adults we were.
The little reunion was family, music, and food. It was simple, memorable, and destined to make me forget for a little.
The night had to end, and that meant I had to go home alone to my thoughts. My parents will stay overnight and Yeosang did not live with us anymore.
The jingle of the front door's keys only solidified the loneliness that awaited for me from behind it.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay? I can just drive early in the morning," Yeosang suggested as we both walked in the house and closed the door behind him.
"Yeo, I'm not a child anymore," I chuckled. "I appreciate it, but you should go, you have work tomorrow, yes?"
"Well, yes, but---"
"Then get your ass out of here."
Yeosang rolled his eyes at my teasing tone, but ended up laughing anyway. He pulled me in for a quick hug and pecked cheek. "Call me if you need anything."
He was gone within a minute, and once again, I was left alone with my despair. And what better way to shower these thoughts out?
But that made it worse. The involuntary shower thoughts were poison to my already weak mind.
I've conquered the art of being alone, and now that I had Wooyoung with me, it never really made things easier. My endless days filled with cold fire were quickly replaced with warm companionship...
I felt like an empty box without him. It was ridiculous, really, I knew this was wrong; a mistake I knew I wasn't supposed to feel.
I missed him.
Ding, ding, ding
I had just finished dressing up when I heard the doorbell ring. Confused, I slowly treaded my way downstairs. My parents weren't supposed to be home and Yeosang would have called beforehand if he forgot something.
The doorbell rings again, more hurriedly the second time. Screw it, I thought apprehensively. Yeosang is in charge of my obituary if I unfortunately pass away tonight...
With a deep breath, I swung the door open, my eyes tightly shut. Yeah, I know, serial killers would love me.
Silence. I knew somebody was in front of me, but they weren't saying anything. My mind caught up with the stupidity of my actions and I froze. Is this how I die?
"A-Are you okay?"
That squeaky voice, that sounds so familiar. I wanted to smack my head, I missed him so much, I was hearing him.
"Nice tits, Y/N."
My eyes shot open so fast that the light came in a bit faster than I expected to and I became a little dizzy. My brain buffers while my thoughts try to catch up. After I realized what I just heard, I took a closer look in front of me.
I let out a little gasp. "W-Woo?" I whimpered pathetically.
There he was, standing at my doorway, 9 o'clock in the evening. My heart lurched at the sight of him - so ethereal.
There was nothing specific to him that made him so stunning to me, maybe it was his iconic red hair, or maybe the way he looked at me right now would be close. They were intense, yet gentle. Polite, but not noble.
I blushed, wanting to cover up, but his eyes held me hostage. They trailed from my face, slowly down my neck, to my exposed cleavage, before bringing them back up again to look at me, the unmistakable hunger in those orbs very much present.
"Y/N," Wooyoung drawled out without breaking eye contact, sticking his tongue out to lick his bottom lip excruciatingly slow for my sanity. "Let me in."
A sudden wave of nausea hits me, rendering me weak in his mercy as I finally feel my brain melt in my head. What the hell.
His kissable lips pulled up slowly to a smirk, mischievous, and we were both released from that little cage of sin we almost trapped ourselves in.
Woooyoung laughs out loud. "You should have seen your face," he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.
My face reddens both in embarrassment and mild anger. Against my better judgment, I move to slam the door to his face. "You!" I hissed menacingly.
"Wait, wait!" he panicked, quickly stopping the door from completely closing by putting his boots in between. "I'm sorry! You just looked so far away, I couldn't help but tease you--"
"Not helping your case, Woo--"
"I traveled here in two hours from a place that would have taken three," he whined, grabbing my hand from the outside. "Please?"
I let out a very loud exaggerated sigh before I let go of the door. Besides, he might not look like it, but Wooyoung was built. He could have pushed the door forcefully if he really wanted to.
"Sorry," he giggled, hugging me from behind with his head resting on top of my head. "Turn around for me?"
I'm so ashamed of how weak I had become with him, but what can I say?
I buried my head on his chest, inhaling the scent that I missed so much - warm and clean - and everything hit me all at once.
He really was here with me. I was so happy that I almost felt sick and anxious. It comes off as a raging storm in my heart that was almost painful. The unbelievable sorrow I've gone through the last few days melted away in Wooyoung's blissful embrace.
"Did you drink tonight? How'd you get home?" he inquired after we pulled away.
"I did, and Yeosang took me home."
"Oh? Is he here? I didn't see his car outside."
I explained that Yeosang had to go back to his apartment because he had to work in the morning. He nodded intently, humming to himself.
"I have a surprise for you," he smiled, lifting the duffel bag he had bought with him. "How about you nap a bit while I prepare this?"
The next thing I knew, Wooyoung was already building a makeshift bed out of the couches we had in the living room so I could lay on them real quick.
The light pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the windows were the ones that woke me up. They have been falling steadily without fail before I opened my eyes.
I would have been content staying in the warmth of the blankets, to grab a mug of tea and feel the soothing coldness of the breeze hit my nose as I inhaled deeply.
But I had to find Wooyoung. It wouldn't be too difficult, I knew exactly where he was. He loved the rain, you see.
A tender smile creeped up on his face when he noticed me sitting beside him on one of the stools on our roofed backyard. "You're awake," was all he said.
"How long was I out?" I groggily asked, swallowing the aspirin tablets he handed out. "Thanks."
"Not too long," he handed me a tall glass of water. "Close to an hour and a half, maybe."
"You were working while I was napping?" I gestured to the setup he had in front of us. Various strips of undeveloped films were strewn all over along with a camera I did not recognize, and...a glass pyramid?
"Nice paperweight," I pointed at it, a little hurt that even though he came for me, his focus was still on his work.
Wooyoung chuckled lightly. "No work, not necessarily," he shook his head. "That's not a paperweight. Why don't you be a doll and pick it up for me?"
I could feel the tips of my ears warm up but I picked up the pyramid anyway. It was a lot lighter than I initially thought it would be.
I looked at Wooyoung in confusion when he suddenly pointed out to the moon. "See the small beam of light coming down?"
I nodded. Indeed, the moon seemed brighter today. It looked more beautiful than the stars that surrounded it. "That," he gestured to the triangular glass I was holding. "That is a prism, and I want you to put it where the moonlight is."
I frowned. "What?"
"If you're worried about the rain, you don't have to put it directly under it, just a small light would do," he bargained, chuckling at my confused face.
I did what he said, apprehensively stretching my hand out to put the so-called prism under the moonlight. I smiled a bit, I will admit, the combination of the rain and light hitting its surface made it look extremely breathtaking.
I tilted it slightly to catch the different angles since I realized each angle made it glow in different shades of lights. One flick of my wrist shone a colourful beam of light that landed on the ground.
"Wow," I breathed out. "That's beautiful, Wooyoung."
He smiled back. "Keep tilting."
Suddenly, an arc formed from the prism to the ground beneath me. I was in awe, this one had different colours to it. From red to yellow to purple, it shone clearly against the rain. I giggled, it reminded me of rainbows. If only it was daytime...
I gasped, dropping the prism on the ground with a loud clunk. My face was drained of blood as I turned sharply to Wooyoung with wide eyes. But he wasn't worried about my pale state. His smile shone brighter than any prism out there. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to take a photo of his charming smile.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he grinned, picking up the prism and tilting it himself against the rain and the light.
I've always wanted to see a rainbow at nighttime, and no, the Aurora Borealis doesn't count."
"Interesting," he whispered. "Keep going."
"You remembered, oh my God, you remembered..." I sniffled, burying my face in my hands.
"Why wouldn't I?" he smiled, pulling me in for a hug.
Wooyoung kissed my forehead delicately with great care and the look he gave me was something I will never forget.
We spent the next hour or so playing with different shapes of prisms that Wooyoung bought from where he went. The client he had earlier owned a glass manufacturing company and Wooyoung requested for these to be made as a form of payment.
This rainy day soaked all the memories we had made for both of us, providing us the soundtrack we deserved, and it was unlike any other. I laughed like I never laughed before at this crazy little daydream, wishing it would last forever.
And soon, I learned to love the rain like Wooyoung. There will never be a rainy day where I never not think of him ever again.
"You better make me look good or I won't give you pictures," he threatened playfully.
When the rain had stopped, we opted to take pictures as proof of this core memory. The unfamiliar camera I saw earlier turned out to be a self-developing one, the modern cameras that instantly printed out tiny polaroid pictures in less than fifteen seconds.
"You literally took the shittiest photos of me, you hypocrite," I rolled my eyes at him, trying my best to cover my eyes with the camera so he wouldn't see the tears that were threatening to fall from my eyes.
"They're mine to keep," Wooyoung stuck his tongue out at me. What a brat.
But he was my brat. The tears that were once the symbol of the everlasting happiness that Wooyoung had been willingly giving me, were now drowning me in the bottomless sorrow that embraced me in a sea of ice cold water.
I loved him.
If I ever cross my heart, if I ever lie or deny the heart that beated for him, then I'd hope to die.
I loved him when we both stared at that park's wisteria, I loved him when he laid in my arms until he fell asleep, I loved him when he told me he'd always be there for me, I loved him then, and I love him now.
"Do you want me to put the movie on?" I asked after we've both settled down, shivering a bit. I never realized how cold it was outside until both me and Wooyoung came back inside.
Wooyoung mumbled a soft hum of affirmation while he was busy in the kitchen reheating some food I had bought with Yeosang earlier. He wasn't even doing anything groundbreaking but he was still so devastatingly loveable in my eyes.
The movie was boring, or rather, my attention just wasn't geared towards it. All I could focus on was the intense, burning passion I had for my best friend. I shut my eyes closely, as if doing so will get rid of the plaguing thoughts.
I let out a small gasp when Wooyoung pulled me to him, his arms wrapped around my waist. "What's going on in that pretty little head?" he sluggishly asked, nudging his head in the crook of my neck.
I am about to explode. He has always been the cuddly kind, but now that I have finally admitted to myself how much I truly loved him, his touch burned me on the inside, electrifying every cell in my body in response to his tender touch.
"Nothing," I shrugged nonchalantly.
He chuckled, gripping my jaw lightly and turning my head towards his. I stopped breathing when I realized that he was closer than I thought. If I lean even an centimeter more, our lips would touch.
Wooyoung searches my face intently. "Don't lie to me."
I stare at him in the eye, not really knowing what to say. His hand was still on my jaw, but that was the last of my worries right now. I really want to tell him, I want to shout how much I loved him; how much he made me feel like I was everything when in reality I was nothing.
My mouth opens to say something, but immediately closes. In a moment of realization, Wooyoung's eyes widened a bit before his hand dropped from my jaw. There was a storm brewing in those beautiful eyes, and at this moment, I knew I was about to lose him.
"W-Wooyoung," I blurted out, full on panicking at this point.
"Don't look at me like that," he whispered, his voice breaking in the middle.
"What do you mean?" I sniffled, wanting to reach out and touch him, but stopped myself.
"You know what I mean."
A bitter sensation rose like bile up my throat. My heart isn't just broken, it was now a shadow of what it once was that was slowly fading away little by little.
He knows. Him knowing me like the back of his hand was a curse to a blessing, and not that blessing was a curse. He knows that I am in love with him, the last thing I ever wanted him to know.
"Let's finish the movie," I giggled, though it probably sounded fake.
I frowned when Wooyoung shut the TV off as a whole. "Y/N," he sounded stern. I stayed silent, not even looking him in the eye.
He sighed deeply. "I can give you anything, but not that," he stated, his arms still around my waist tightening a bit. "You're my best friend, I cannot lose you. Not like this."
My fear of loss was proof of my love for him. I loved him so much, I was willing to let him go.
I rolled my eyes playfully, forcing myself to look at him and grin widely, even though my tongue burned. "What are you saying? We'll be friends until the end of time," I laughed, lightheartedly elbowing him.
There was a passing look of hurt in his features, but it left as soon as it came. "Are you sure you're fine with this?" he squinted his eyes suspiciously at me.
"Of course," I snorted. "Maybe I'm just confused, but you know me Youngie, I'm tough."
He was still suspicious, but he laughed along with me anyway. "I know you are," he chortled, pinching my cheek really, really hard.
"Ow! You imp!" I grab his cheek to pinch it back just as hard, playing along with him.
We decided not to finish the movie and just rest for the night. As I lay back down on the makeshift bed Wooyoung made for me earlier, with him cuddling me from behind and pretty much spooning me, I let it all out.
Silent tears flowed down from my eyes and I had to put my knuckles in my mouth to prevent myself from making any sound. I can feel Woyooung's chest rising up and down against my back and that's how I knew he was sleeping, but I didn't want to risk waking him up.
My heart hurt so much, because I knew my love will never be reciprocated. Wooyoung loved his dreams too much to choose us, I knew that. I tried so damn hard to stop my growing feelings but to no avail. The voice that came out from me so naturally to tell him that I was fine, that what I felt for him was just a silly little crush, sounded so far away; it didn't even sound like me.
The attraction between us became an intangible broken thread and there was no way to reattach the fragments, though I know that I was the only one scattered and lost.
I knew we weren't going to last forever, but I wasn't expecting the beginning of the end to happen so soon.
A knock from my left snaps me out of my thoughts. It was Mingi tapping on my desk, his brow raised.
"Sorry," I sheepishly mumbled, trying to focus on the task at hand. Hongjoong already left for New York so it was just me and Mingi in the shop.
I couldn't concentrate, I kept glancing at my phone hoping Wooyoung would reply to my messages. Something was wrong, and I was very close to having a mental breakdown.
Woo? Are you busy? Wanna hang out at the new place later after work?
I kept telling myself that it was fine, he's busy, he's been in-demand lately because he truly was a talented photographer with a particular set of skills that were a rarity in such a condensed industry, but I couldn't help but feel like he's been very distant lately.
Wooyoung has been avoiding me and I don't know what to do.
To keep my insecurities in check, I've been going in the deepest pits of my mind to tolerate my thoughts and letting these negative feelings pass - so I can react appropriately and not go crazy over the things I had no control over.
Wooyoung? Is everything okay? You aren't responding...
Truth be told, I felt pathetic. I got so attached to Wooyoung that I forgot how I was before I met him - alone. It wasn't his fault, he doesn't owe me anything, it was me who let my heart chase a person who never even wanted to be found in the first place.
Another knock made me jump from my thoughts.
"Y/N," Mingi sighed, taking his glasses off and setting them down on his own desk. "Can I talk to you really quick?"
I bit my lip, nodding. Mingi had always been the type of boss that drew a line with everyone, except Hongjoong. He was strict, very intimidating, but it suited him, so I'm a bit nervous that he was calling me out.
"I'll be straight with you, yeah? Is it Wooyoung?" he asked out of genuine curiosity, his sharp eyes piercing through me.
I didn't respond, I couldn't, so I kept my head low. I heard Mingi sigh again. "Hey," he says softly. "This is off the record, okay? I won't tell Hongjoong, although I suspect he already knows anyway."
I looked up, frowning. "What do you mean?"
Mingi crossed his arms, leaning back against his chair a bit more relaxed. "I can't speak for him, but for me personally? I know Wooyoung more than you think I do. You just haven't seen us together because I've been so busy lately."
He was right. Mingi continued. "Look, it's a shame to see you like this. We really like you, you're hardworking, critical, smart, and whatnot..."
"T-Thank you, Mr. Song," I blurted out.
"Just Mingi," he brushed off. "What I'm trying to say is, save yourself for a man that isn't him. He won't choose you."
I already knew that, but hearing it didn't make it hurt less. Tears started to pool in the corners of my eyes. Mingi curses under his breath.
"Go home," he gestured out the door. "Take the day off."
"B-But we still have work left," I stuttered.
He gives me a small smile. "I'll manage. Go before I change my mind."
I suppose I was thankful about being sent home, it did help my nerves a bit. I've gotten home, showered, ate dinner, and did the most mundane things I could ever do, but Wooyoung never replied.
I woke up the next day, clutching my phone, muttering a little prayer in my head as if I would miraculously see his name pop up in my notifications, telling me good morning like he used to every single day.
The tears I've been holding off since yesterday ran down like waterfalls from my eyes. I missed him so much, and I've got nobody to blame but myself. I wished I kept it in, how much I loved him I mean. Maybe we would have been hanging out by now, laughing obnoxiously at nothing in particular.
Before I could stop myself, I dialed Wooyoung's number. The beating of my heart pounded along with the ringing tone against my ear. I was about to hang up, when I heard the familiar click of answer.
Hello?
I covered my mouth with my hand to prevent me from choking up. Oh, how I missed this voice.
"H-Hey, Woo, how are you doing?" I apprehensively asked.
I can't really talk right now, little dove, what do you want?
I was confused, my frown getting deeper. There was tension on the line, a tension so brittle it could snap in a moment, and if it doesn't, I might. He sounds like his normal self, but he sounds so rigid, his voice clipped.
"Nothing, I-I just wanted to hear your voice," I was so anxious at this point, especially when Wooyoung didn't say anything back for a moment.
I can feel the fear spreading throughout my chest. I let out a slow, controlled breath and attempted to loosen my body.
What? You called me for that? I have my own things to do, Y/N, you can't just call me for something so stupid.
I felt my heart bleed, twisting, turning, and rendering my insides tight. I don't respond, wide eyed, my heart in my throat. I needed him to tell me everything was going to be alright, to soothe me but instead he continued.
I'll call you when I have time, okay?
"B-But you said I can call you whenever I needed you," I whispered in the smallest voice I could muster.
I know what I said.
The tone of his voice, so cold and so upset, brought shivers down my spine. "I'm sorry," I whimpered. "I'm so lonely, I miss you. C-Can you come for a bit? O-Or I'll come if you cannot..."
I'll see.
And then he hung up, not bothering to wait for my response. Hot tears, ones he will never witness, were falling even faster than before and soaking my pillows. I felt the wetness of my skin and each drop killed my soul little by little.
What is happening? That wasn't the man I know, that wasn't the Wooyoung I have come to love over the past year.
Sharp knives dig into my heart even deeper, bringing more pain, making me cry out in the most desperate of as it keeps slicing over and over again. I was so lost at the torment my mind was putting me through.
When I was at my lowest, when others took what I could not afford to give, Wooyoung saved my life. The voice that once kept me alive was now the one that was slowly sucking every little bit of hope in my soul.
The first day was fine, I was able to rationalize with myself and not think of Wooyoung every second of the day.
The first week was a bit difficult, but I was still able to manage and get by day by day even though I can feel myself slowly slipping away.
The first month, I couldn't take it anymore. My parents noticed that I wasn't being myself lately, but they chose not to comment anything out of respect, but when I completely stopped eating and going out was when they began to worry significantly.
I understand that my best friend might never be able to give back all the love I have from him, but there is something much, much worse than hate or ignorance.
It was indifference. The night I had unintentionally confessed to him was the night everything between us started to blur.. He was cold, I wasn't expecting him to love me back, but abandoning me and acting like I don't exist or matter at all was turning all my loneliness into desperation.
Screw it. If he's not going to see me, then I'll go see him.
It wasn't too difficult to borrow the family car with the pretense of going out to enjoy myself. They didn't know Wooyoung was the source of my melancholy. I haven't had the heart to tell them because they really liked him.
"Woo?" I knocked on his apartment door, the door that used to excite me, now terrified me.
No response. I knew for a fact that he was inside and was ignoring the hell out of me because his lights were on - he always turned them off whenever he was going somewhere all the time. I was getting extremely annoyed at this point, and my anger had nowhere to dissipate.
"Jung Wooyoung, I know you're in there," I knocked frantically. "Open the freaking door."
When I still got no reply, I had no choice but to get the spare key he hid under his doormat. I could've done it earlier, I wasn't in the mood to be disrespected right now.
The moment I swung his door open, I saw him. He was just there, sitting on a chair with his arms crossed, staring me directly in the eye. I stood by his doorway, frozen, staring back at him.
"Woo--"
"Close the damn door and sit down," he sighed exasperatedly. The cold indifference in his eyes was killing me.
The atmosphere was completely tense, I didn't even know where to start. I used to love being in his apartment, but now I was itching to get out.
Then I saw it - the same duffle bag he bought the glass prism to give me a lunar rainbow now filled with all of his clothes.
"What the hell is this?" I gritted, not being able to hold back the anger I was feeling at the moment.
"What does it look like?" he glared, his jaw taut and clenched tight.
"Is this why you weren't talking to me?" I asked, my voice full of hurt. "How can you do this, Wooyoung? How could you do this to us?"
He scoffed. "There is no us, my princess," he mocked. It stung, I didn't know this Wooyoung, or was this his true nature all along?
"Then why am I still your princess, then?"
There was a second where his eyes morphed back into the man I loved, but before it even lasted, it went to this hostile stranger than got off on the hurt he was giving me. He avoided eye contact, opting to look down and stare at the floor tiles.
"Say something," I begged.
"I heard you," he snapped, as if I meant absolutely nothing to him.
Clearly, he wasn't expecting me to even confront him at all, and intended to push me far, far away as long as he possibly could.
That refusal to smile, to show me any warmth was his way of being antagonistic towards me.
His eyes stopped at mine, and the moment it laid on me, I knew that there was nothing left for me to salvage. This is really the end.
Tears flowed nonstop from my eyes and before I knew it, I was in front of him, aggressively hitting his chest using my fist with all my might, hoping he could feel all the pain he gave me.
"Stop it, Y/N," he hissed, trying to avoid my hits. But I didn't. All the anger and sadness were so intertwined that I didn't know which one prevailed.
"I said stop it!", he shouted. He grabbed my wrists painfully and held them against his chest. "You better stop, or so God help me, I will make you stop, and trust me, you do not want that."
Something akin to fear crept into my chest. I have never, ever heard him raise his voice before.
"Had I known that you were going to be the bane of my existence, I would have ignored you at the park back then!" I screeched at him, trying very hard to get my hands back by thrashing around.
"Had I known you were going to be like this, I wouldn't have taken a photo of you!" Wooyoung's grip got so tight that I literally felt no blood circulating towards my hand.
"You good for nothing ass, you're hurting me! Let me go!" I growled, but it came out as a whine.
"Not until you calm down!"
We went back and forth like that, arguing like little children. The fight between us was a destruction in the making, tearing us instead of bounding us together.
I swallowed the anger that threatened to spill out of me, and it grew in my chest as the person I loved did absolutely nothing to wipe the tears from my eyes. At least he was a bit surprised when I screamed a scream from deep within, and it terrified the both of us because it didn't even sound like me.
"How am I supposed to look at anyone else?" I cried, my head leaning on his chest out of exhaustion. "I don't want anyone else anymore because I will be afraid to trust."
"I'm sorry," was all he said. He didn't even want to wrap his arms around me and just let me hang in there.
"No, you're not," I cried even harder.
"Y/N, please, you're making this difficult for me," his voice breaks in the middle. I feel the intensity in his voice, a massive amount of emotion behind every word he spoke.
"And how do you think I feel, Wooyoung?"
"I understand, but--"
"This is how you are, full of excuses, full of shit!"
"Let me talk--"
"Why are you leaving me? Why are you--"
"Because I love you!"
I must've looked so shocked, so devastated, and so scared that Wooyoung, himself, started breaking down. We held each other as if it was our last, and at that moment, it was just the two of us against everything in this world.
Wooyoung held my face with his shaking hands, tears flowing down from his own eyes as he leaned his forehead against mine. That somehow made me cry harder. "I love you so much, goddamn it," he choked.
"But you're not going to stay," I whimpered against his criminal hold.
Though he felt so warm right now, I knew it wasn't going to last. I could get lost in his eyes right now because they felt like home as we both cried in each other's arms. After all the countless nights I wished he felt the same, this felt foreign.
He was an oasis in a barren desert and the best thing I could do was stare.
"You appearing in my life was never planned," he whispered. "I never expected to fall as deeply as I did with you, Y/N."
"If you feel the same, then why can't you stay with me?" I asked pitifully.
"I can't, baby, this wasn't supposed to happen," he took a deep breath. "I can't love you."
"You can't, or you won't?"
He didn't respond. That got him. I sighed.
"Woo, look at me?" I tilted his chin up very gently until he did. "Don't do this to us," I pleaded. "You're looking at me with clouded eyes right now, you know I see through your lies..."
Wooyoung doesn't reply, choosing to walk away from me to pace across the room in a fret. I watched him collect his mind apprehensively.
"If I can't have me, then no one can," he finally said.
I stared at him as my heart started slowly breaking once again. This incomprehensible pain was consuming me bit by bit, my heart was bleeding.
"I would regret it for the rest of my life if I don't chase the longest dream I've ever had," his eyes were laced in pain. "The photography world is waiting for me..."
"Is this why you didn't want anything or anyone tying you down to this place, Woo? You didn't want to commit because you might never want to leave?"
That was it. The way he looked at me told me everything I needed to know. I had lost him before I even had him, and I can only weep and let myself come to terms with the one that got away. So I cried, I cried as Wooyoung held me in his arms, rocking me back and forth like he used to when we spent time together.
"Hush now," he started crying with me. "I hate that it seems you were never enough." He hugged me tighter. "Because you are, you were more than enough."
"But I'm the one that should mean something! So help me understand," I sobbed harder in his arms, afraid to let him go because he might disappear if I do.
He wipes my tears away with his thumbs. "If one day we see each other again," he croaked. "However long that will take, we will try again for each other, okay?"
I shook my head like a crazed maniac, muttering no, no, no repeatedly. "Wooyoung," I wailed, holding onto his arms tightly. "P-Please don't leave me..."
I begged him over and over again like my life depended on it, and to be fair, I felt like I was going to die if he left me entirely. At this point I didn't care if I was going to be his second choice as long as he stayed.
"Y/N, please don't make this harder than it is," Wooyoung denied. "Go home, please I'm begging you. You're going to make me do something we'll both regret, please."
He was about to leave, but I held him back from behind, holding onto him as tight as I possibly could. "Stop it," he pleaded, trying to pry my arms off of him, but I held tighter, wailing harder.
"P-Please, please don't go," I bawled. "I'll do anything, I'll--"
"Stop it!"
His booming voice made me gasp, or maybe that was the sudden hold he had on my shoulders. The way his eyes darkened wasn't something I missed as his nails dug into my shoulders.
"Do not say that," he hissed, his dark eyes boring into me. "We are both in my room, alone. You know what that means, right?"
"So take me, Wooyoung."
Something changed in the air, and between the two of us right at this moment. Wooyoung's eyes widened a bit, his hold on my shoulders tightening , before he grimaced. "You don't know what you're saying," he laughed dryly.
I knew it was wrong, but right now I wanted nothing but to feel all of him. I will throw all the dignity I have right now, I don't care. The moment I begged him to stay, I'd lost it all, anyway.
"The notion of sin has never sat too well with me," Wooyoung gulped, his voice thick with lust.
"And leaving me does?" I blurted, my own eyes hazy with want.
Wooyoung shook his head fervently and sweat was beginning to form at his hairline. "Y/N, I am only a man, please don't make me do it..."
He buried his head in the crook of my neck, his breathing was so laboured and every time he took a breath, I felt everything on my skin. I mewled when I felt him pause, then lick the most sensitive part of my neck.
"Fuck, you smell and taste so good," Wooyoung growled.
Everything happened so fast. In a split second, his touch electrified every nerve in my body, the intoxication was instantaneous. He hurriedly grabbed my face and immediately put his lips on mine, like I was his air and he needed me to live.
His arms wrap around my back, and in one motion, our bodies collide. His hand was pulling and tugging my hair, muttering how soft they were in between kisses. I kiss him back with equal fervent, quickly opening my mouth so his tongue can explore. Our bodies fit together like we were made to do this.
He pulls away and we lock eyes for a moment, just enough to see that we were far too gone to stop, before we were back at it again, this time on his bed. The kiss we shared was of raw intensity, the groans he made behind his throat made every hair on my body stand up in attention.
"Baby," he groaned, his voice muffled because he was back to attacking my neck.
"Hmm?" was I could reply with, especially with how rough he was kneading my breasts from under my shirt.
"You held your breath for a minute straight while my tongue was in your throat."
I blushed deep. We were almost about to have sex and he still remembered that? I never thought his mouth would be this dirty.
We caressed each other's skin through the night, not getting enough of each other as we became one. His touches were exhilarating, whenever he laid his fingers on my skin tingles. Both of us move in sync, not taking our eyes off of each other.
There were no thoughts, and no focus - only lust and desire.
My back arches in anticipation from his light hands as he watches my reaction, feeling how my hands shook, watching my body tremble every time he used his fingers.
Whatever Wooyoung was doing, there was no stopping. Just his scent from above me was enough to incapacitate me. Every thrust he did was enough for me to fall deeper, and deeper for him and he never stopped until we were warm and snuggled after we were finished.
But nothing lasts forever - even guilty pleasures.
"Wooyoung?" I asked nobody in particular the moment I woke up, my voice sore from all the screaming the night prior.
I sat up, covering my body with the blanket that smelled so much like him, looking around to see if he was somewhere since he wasn't lying down beside me on his own bed, but no.
I didn't think much of it, maybe he just went to the bathroom to freshen up, but deep down my heart, I knew he had left.
There was something on the spot where Wooyoung was supposed to be - a piece of paper. I hesitantly picked up, realized it was a letter addressed to me, and opened its contents. Little dots of wetness dropped down the paper from every tear as I read on.
'To the one I'm letting go,
I'm sorry, Y/N. I am so, so sorry for everything I will put you through starting now. By the time you're reading this, I would have been long gone.
You will always be the most important person of my life, whether you believe it or not. You have absolutely no idea how wonderful and colourful you have made my life into for the past year and I always smile knowing that you'd be there to share my achievements with.
I knew I would develop feelings for you the moment I saw you in that park. God, you looked so beautiful. The fates were funny like that, because I wasn't even supposed to be at the park that day. My usual spot was unavailable that day.
Please be happy, do not forget your meals, study well so you can go into that college you've always wanted to, don't eat too many sweets because they make you hyper, be mindful of nuts in every food since you are allergic to them since I can't be there to check them for you anymore.
The gift of friendship as great as yours is something I will forever cherish in my heart, Y/N. Our little moments where we laughed and cried together still makes me happy to this day. You may have come into my life unexpectedly for what felt like a minute, but the mark you left will last us forever.
You're going to have to move on for me, and I will do the same, even if it hurts both of us, okay? I have to leave, it's either you or my dreams, and I know you have dreams of your own. This love will always hold us back.
However, if I see you again one day, I cannot guarantee that I will hold back because I am going to take you whether you like it or not and make you mine.
But for now? I cannot hate you, but I cannot love you either.
Yours, J. WY'
I hyperventilated, my hands shaking violently as I held the letter that might as well have been my death certificate.
I knew one way or another, this was going to happen and I was prepared for it so I wouldn't get hurt in the near future, but it hasn't fully hit me until now.
Long ago, I had forgotten how to scream because they were either ignored or criticized with cruelty, but the way I screamed my soul out broke my own heart. My grief came in waves, ebbing gradually at the ocean that needed to bleed from my eyes.
"Oh, Wooyoung," I cried his name out pitifully, holding the letter close to my heart. I knew I loved him, but the loss of him really solidified how strong it was. How was I supposed to survive the feeling of something so dear that got forcefully ripped away from me?
I must've wallowed in my despair and self-pity a little too much, that I forgot that there were clutters and footsteps outside of the room. They were the reason I woke up. Could it be..?
I half heartedly rubbed my tear-stained face with my hands to make the swelling go away before I dressed up decent enough to step out.
The footsteps stopped when I apprehensively opened the door, the creak of it echoing across the otherwise barren room.
My eyes widened and landed on two men who were both staring at me also wide-eyed the moment I opened my door, as if they were listening in on me suffering.
"Who the hell are you?!" I had meant for that to be threatening, but it came out as a pathetic squeak.
They both stepped back, surprised at the spunk I had even though it was clearly very early in the morning.
"We mean no harm, we promise," one of them said calmly. He reminded me of a bear, and the relaxed fit of his jeans that tucked his black tee made his form even bigger. "I'm Jongho, your brother and the two workaholics sent me..."
I raised my brow, he must be Hongjoong's assistant, the other workaholic was Mingi. Yeosang did also mention a best friend in passing. I raised a brow on the other one expecting him to talk.
He was tall, definitely taller than Mingi, and they kind of looked like each other, though this one reminded me of an overgrown puppy. He was very good-looking as well. He was lean, though there's definitely some bulk on him too.
He waves a set of keys in front of him. "I'm Yunho, San gave me the keys," he worriedly explained. "I was hoping you could explain. I made breakfast..."
The food was very good, but I didn't have the heart to tell Yunho that Wooyoung's cooking was the one I craved for. I gave them the letter Wooyoung had written for me as I filled them in on some details about what happened. They were Wooyoung's really close friends, so I didn't have to fill in too much details since they pretty much knew the majority of it.
"He never told you it was love at first sight," Yunho shook his head as he passed the letter for Jongho to read. "That bastard, I told him to stay away from you if he was just going to leave."
"We tried very hard to change his mind, believe me," Jongho sighed, taking a sip of the coffee I made him earlier. Both of his eyes shot up as he stared at me. "Though I suppose this is one of the reasons why he couldn't stay away."
That one struck a nerve. Wooyoung was the one who taught me how to make good coffee.
Yunho cleared his throat. "San doesn't know Wooyoung has left yet. If he found out, he would beat the shit out of him. San liked you a lot, he convinced Wooyoung the most to stay."
"And Hongjoong?"
"Hongjoong is, well, he is who he is. He just knows everything. He probably told Yeosang because he didn't have the heart to tell you."
Yunho's phone started ringing, it gave me a slight migraine because that thing was loud as hell. Yunho mutters a sheepish apology. "Hello?"
"Alright, which one of you soul-sucking bastards stole my keys?! What the hell is even happening?!"
That actually made me giggle. Now I know why these two were sent to check up on me - Yunho was very easy to get along with and Jongho was the rational one to balance things.
"Who is that?"
Yunho and Jongho took turns to fill San in on everything that went down, and I felt bad for him because that also meant that San lost a friend. His heartbroken questions were making tears in my eyes.
"Sannie," Jongho sighed. "This is why we took the keys, we didn't want you to find out this way."
"Where is he, then?" San's voice was tight.
"You don't know either?" Yunho asked in surprise.
"N-No, Y/N? Is she okay?"
That completely broke me. It was ironic that Wooyoung's friends, people I wasn't even that familiar with in the first place, were the ones more concerned about me. I bitterly let my tears out, with Jongho patting my back to comfort me.
I cried, and cried, and cried, and cried until I felt my voice grow weary with excessive use, not caring that these two strangers and a man on the phone heard me break down pitifully.
Forget about me, Wooyoung had also left the people who loved him as well - his friends. In that regard, he was extremely selfish because he knew that hurt he would give to everyone, but he chose to do what he did anyway.
And just like that, he was gone.
I lost track of time, I don't even remember the last time I actually cared to check.
Depression is a silly thing, something that I used to think never ended, but it does actually; you're going to feel it when you hit rock bottom.
"Have a good day everyone," I waved from the doorway of Mingi's office.
The whole gang was here, except for my brother because he lived far away. Still, Yeosang has made it his life's mission to be there for me whenever I gave him a hint that I needed him the most. I felt bad, but I had nobody to turn to.
"Y/N, wait."
I was about to leave, to ignore that call, but I couldn't. Yes?"
Hongjoong stared at me for a full minute without saying anything, before sighing. "Take care of yourself."
I forced a smile on my face. I was happy that everyone was looking out for me even though I just can't outwardly express it. I actually appreciate that none of them were treating me like a wounded puppy.
Hongjoong might not look like he cared too much, but I notice his sharp eyes watching me when he thinks I wasn't looking. Wooyoung was the opposite.
Yunho was very sweet, he would often bake me pastries since I mentioned in passing that I loved them and they brought me joy. Wooyoung used to do that a lot.
Mingi was another nonchalant one. He would often offer me a vacation alone somewhere with all expenses paid. I denied. Being alone will make me think of Wooyoung more.
San was the one that accompanied me the most when I didn't want to move at all. He would bring me food at least four times a week to make sure I was eating. Wooyoung used to feed me, himself, if I wasn't in the mood.
Jongho, being the mature one, made me realize that there were more reasons to live this life. Perhaps it was my parents, maybe my pet dog, or maybe just to find out what happens tomorrow. Wooyoung had a very similar outlook in life.
I was aimlessly walking around and I didn't even notice that I ended up on the bench I sat on, the same bench that had that beautiful wisteria tree. Only this time, there was no Wooyoung to take a candid photo of me.
"I guess I'm not the only one falling apart," I sighed, lightly touching the wilting petals of the once purple tree, now it was just a faded whitish lilac colour.
It was difficult to find happiness in the things that I used to like. I missed the way he hugged me, the sound of his voice, the tenderness in his actions. I missed the way he would whisper the corniest jokes against my ear and make me laugh, but most of all, I missed the way we used to be.
He was my first thought of the day, the light at the end of my tunnel. How must I separate these fantasies from reality? Would things be different if I didn't confess? Would he still be here?
The reality was that he has not had these fantasies, we did not build our dream together, so I have to let it go.
Even though he had left after the momentarily love we shared for one night, I can tell myself that at least I knew that he genuinely loved me at one point. My mind will be at peace because I wouldn't have to go manic wondering for the rest of my life if it was only me - I know now that we did truly mean something to each other.
We're so distracted by how things end, we usually forget how beautiful the beginning was.
It was a quote I heard somewhere. My love was a myth, but Wooyoung never believed in myths, and so that was both the start and end of our story. Some things are only real if you believe that they are.
A lone tear slipped away as I remembered how beautiful the wisteria was when we had first met. His absence will be the best part of me, I decided, so hopefully for the last time after a while, I weep again.
I will wait for him, no matter how long it took.
3.5 YEARS LATER
I sat in front of the vanity table in my hotel room, staring at myself from the big mirror wearing my white satin robe, it made my complexion pop into a champagne rose hue.
I made eye contact with the person looming behind me through the mirror. "Would you like me to tell them to adjust the makeup and your hair?" he asked me tenderly, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I figured you'd love a natural look so I made it happen."
"No, it's perfect, you always know what's best for me," I smiled widely, putting my hand on top of his gently. It was the truth, it managed to bring out me feminine side, and therefore, my self-confidence as well.
I was the happiest I've ever been today, especially because I was finally with the love of my life. He frowned a bit when I pulled him a bit closer to fix his slightly rumpled collar and hair.
"I like the blonde, my love," I ran my hand on it in a trickling motion so I wouldn't mess it up.
He smirks, grabbing my hand to kiss it. "Yeah? That's good, I was feeling tired of the red, plus I don't think it would be appropriate for today."
I chuckled a bit. I have always loved his style, it was so masculine but also so chic and sophisticated at the same time. He was already wearing the suit and tie I had chosen for him today.
I will miss the red hair though, I still remember feeling uneasy when I saw his red hair for the first time, but I have come to love it over time. This blonde was making me feel some type of way.
I took a glance at my wedding dress that was placed at the far corner of the room. The lace upon lace design was very cozy and snug against my curves and it made me feel like the most beautiful bride in the entire world.
"So what's the schedule, darling? Your photography session here alone or with your bridesmaids for now?" he glanced at his wristwatch.
"Alone for now," I hummed. "I want Joongie, Sannie, and Yeo in here right now. You should go check with Yuyu and Mangi if you need alterations, and oh, check with Jongbear if he's all set with the wedding songs later?"
Over the years, I have gotten so close with the gang and they've all become my bestest of friends. The journey wasn't easy, but at least I've gained seven other lifetime friends.
He chuckled, clicking his tongue in amusement. "Alright, but calm down," he plants a quick kiss on my lips. "As much as I love when you're in your thinking mode, I want you to relax for today."
"I can't help it, Seonghwa, I've never done this before," I pouted.
Seonghwa squeezed my hand lovingly. "I know, me neither, but I'll be with you through everything, okay? And don't worry about those three knuckleheads, they're on their way."
"I love you, Hwa."
"I love you more, darling."
As if on cue, there was a knock on the door and indeed, the three people I was expecting made their merry way towards me and Seonghwa.
"Well, well, well," Yeosang strutted towards me. "If it isn't my favourite sister."
"I'm your only sister," I rolled my eyes, making everybody laugh.
"Oh, Y/N, oh my goodness," Yeosang hugged me tightly. "Goddamn it, I shouldn't have gone here, you're going to make me cry."
"Shut up, Yeo, you're going to make me cry too," I choked, holding my tears back so I don't ruin my makeup. "I could barely hold myself when I saw Mom and Dad bawl their eyes out earlier."
It was like we were back in our childhood again where we supported each other whenever we got an achievement. We don't see each other much but our closeness never got less.
"I'm proud of you, you deserve this happiness," Yeosang smiled. "I'll see you out there, my back is hurting from Seonghwa glaring at my back for taking your time."
"I was not!"
"Some brother-in-law you are, Park Seonghwa!" Yeosang retorted.
We all laughed again, there's nothing better than having friends to celebrate your day with you. Yeosang left shortly and now I was with San and Hongjoong to check up on some things.
"The guests are coming in gradually," San lowered his glasses while he tapped away on his tablet. San was the one who arranged the beautiful venue of the outdoor garden where me and Seonghwa will marry as well as the food and invitations.
San moved away from photography a couple of years ago and started a business on coordinating events. "I reckon they'll all be here within two hours," he continued, but paused hesitantly. "There might be one seat vacant, I'm not sure he'll come..."
The air was a bit tense. I knew who he was talking about. "It's okay, Sannie, we have back up photographers in case he doesn't want to do it..."
Hongjoong cleared his throat loudly. "Congratulations," he grinned from the other side of the room.
"Thanks, Joongie, you're the best," I grinned back, thanking him for more than what I was referring to.
Hongjoong was the one who designed my wedding dress from scratch, and Mingi designed Seonghwa's. It was their first wedding haute couture and definitely not their last.
"Any adjustments you want me to make? I would ask you to try it on, but that's bad luck. " he joked. I shook my head no. "Alright. But I'm sure you'll look good. We're very happy for you, Y/N, we really are."
It felt great to hear it in general, especially on my wedding day, but it meant a lot coming from Hongjoong. All of them were brothers to me, but he was the eldest one.
"Seonghwa, if you think of hurting her," San cracked his knuckles. "You know what will happen."
"Yeah, yeah, sure San, you're scared shitless of killing bugs, let alone beat me up," Seonghwa rolled his eyes, making us all laugh our heads off because it was so true.
Mingi, Yunho, and Jongho also popped in after a while to say their congratulations. Yunho was in charge of hosting the reception, which came naturally for him since he has such an engaging personality.
"I'm so nervous, what if I stutter?" Yunho groaned. "Though I'm sure Jongho here is more nervous."
"A little," Jongho admitted. We were all surprised, he usually does very well on literally everything.
"Jjong, you're literally the best singer I've ever heard," I cheered him on.
"It's not that, this is different. This is your wedding we're talking about."
"That's true and all," Mingi chided in. "But I'm pretty sure Seonghwa is the most nervous out of everybody. Y/N, you gotta tell his ass to calm down, I couldn't even properly adjust his suit, for God's sake!"
We all turned our heads when the sound of another knock resounded through the room. We all looked at each other in confusion, Yeosang was the only one not in here and he would never knock before entering.
Yunho took the initiative to open the door, although apprehensively. He opened the door in an angle where we couldn't see who was outside, but he did, and when he did, he gasped loudly.
"What the fuck!" he shut the door loudly and leaned against it, pale white.
The room was silent, Yunho wasn't the type to curse in general. We all looked at him with very wide eyes and he stared back with his mouth agape.
"Yun, what the hell was that?" Mingi broke the silence, as calm as the ocean.
"I-I, uhm, I-I don't th-think," he stuttered.
"Oh, what the hell," Jongho rolled his eyes, walking towards Yunho and pushing him out rather roughly so he could open the door himself.
Jongho muttered a curse under his breath, before closing the door a bit gently this time, but he also had the same shocked expression on his face. This time I was freaking out, wedding jitters and all.
"Yah!" someone on the other side shouted, banging on the door.
"Open the damn door!" Seonghwa seethed, but quickly muttered a 'sorry' when I glared at him.
Both Yunho and Jongho opened the double doors at the same time, and the person entered. My mind had a small explosion, my heart beating twice the speed it should have, and the hairs all over my body stood up in the collective gasps we all had when we saw him.
He was someone I never thought I'd ever see again, someone I dearly missed even though we ended on a sour note, someone I couldn't wait for anymore even though I told myself I would.
"Wooyoung," I whispered, a bit teary eyed.
"Wooyoung," Seonghwa confirmed, but I could see how nervous he became.
"Wooyoung?" Mingi asked in surprise.
"Wooyoung!" Hongjoong laughed in disbelief. "Wooyoung," San growled, gritting his teeth.
"Oh hello there, Wooyoung," Yeosang suddenly entered the room. I can tell he was upset, especially because he patted Wooyoung's back in a "friendly" manner.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Wooyoung screamed his signature loud screech, but it was too late.
His squawks get louder as everyone, except me and Seonghwa, swarmed him aggressively, like a mob that threatened to end his existence. There were laughter mixed with complaints but overall, everybody seemed happy.
"You crazy son of a bitch, you have us worried, you never even called or texted!"
"Wow, you're uglier than before---ow!"
"Don't ever think of leaving again!"
"Come here, you monkey!"
I felt Seonghwa tense from behind me. I patted his arm, causing him to look at me. I frowned a bit, his eyes held anxiety and inferiority. I understood, the man I used to love was here.
"Alright, alright! Get off me, you airheaded buffoons!" Wooyoung shouted, trying to push everyone off, but ended up laughing hysterically with Mingi and Jongho.
Hongjoong only shook his head and rolled his eyes but I can tell he was happy. San grabbed his collar harshly and for a moment, we thought he was angry, but he ended up pulling Wooyoung into a bone crushing hug and Yunho had to pull him away to give him a hug of his own.
Yunho had always carried the burden of guilt for the past year, he kept saying that he could have stopped Wooyoung back then. Yeosang ruffled Wooyoung's hair roughly, something he did when he's overwhelmed on how to express his feelings.
"Have you guys seen, uhm--oh," Wooyoung began, but faltered when his eyes met mine., his smile dropping in slow motion. He didn't know I'd be here.
The air became tense all of a sudden. A sudden heartache filled my mind with dread, flashbacks of what happened years ago reminding me of the bond we made only for it to break. But even though it hurt, I was genuinely happy he was here, so I put a smile on my face.
He was shocked, his eyes going back to the same twinkle he had back then, but it quickly disappeared when Seonghwa cleared his throat, then I saw it disappear permanently.
"We, uh, we should leave you guys to talk," Seonghwa murmured.
"A-Are you sure, Hwa?" I hesitated, holding onto his arm to stop him from moving.
I wasn't the only one surprised when Seonghwa nodded lightheartedly. "Mhhm," he hummed. "Plus," he glanced at Wooyoung. "This is a long overdue conversation."
With that, everyone left the room, but not before Seonghwa shook Wooyoung's hand. My heart was filled with pride. "Nice to see you again, old friend," Seonghwa patted Wooyoung's shoulder gently. This is why I loved him, he trusted me wholeheartedly.
Seonghwa knew everything, from how Wooyoung met me, to how grateful I was for everything he's done for me, all the way to him leaving me. Seonghwa and Wooyoung and pretty much everyone used to be good friends but he had to move away when they were younger because of his parents' work. He cried for me, he cried for everything I've been through, and cried for how far I've become.
Wooyoung stood awkwardly from where he was after Seonghwa had left, and I didn't even know what to do either. I wasn't even sure if he was the same person he was before he left, three years was a long time. We were strangers to each other at this point because I definitely have changed.
"S-Sit, Wooyoung, please," I blurted, not looking him in the eye as I pointed at the sofa across from where I was.
I stared at him as he awkwardly did as he was told. The years have been bittersweet to him - he had become unbelievably handsome, but his eyes had lost that youth and spark to it.
He had more muscle to him, and his face had matured into this angular and chiseled appearance - his brows were more prominent, his cheekbones higher, and his jaws stronger. His hair was longer too, instead of the bright red I knew him for, he had this black and blonde layered on top of each other like an Oreo cookie.
"How are you doing, Y/N?" he softly asked. Even his voice got deeper, more booming, but it was still as calming as I remembered it to be.
"I'm good, I feel really happy," I genuinely replied. "I'm glad you're able to come despite your schedule."
"Of course," he sighed. "I'm surprised you still invited me."
"Why wouldn't I?" I whispered, all the hurt threatening to spill out from me. "B-But how have you been? Did you get what you wanted?"
I knew the answer to that question. Of course he did, Wooyoung was now a well-known photographer who was in-demand all over South Korea. He was basically a celebrity, but I still wanted to hear it come from his mouth.
Wooyoung smiled tightly. "Yes and no," he said cryptically.
"W-Why?"
Wooyoung stared at me for a minute, his eyes not giving away what he was feeling. My heart almost burst out of my ribcage. He tried so hard, but he was fiddling with his pants, a sign he was nervous.
We might be two different people now, but I still knew him like the back of my hand.
"So," he cleared his throat, finally looking away. "Seonghwa, huh?"
I hummed, letting him get away with the fact that he was changing the topic. "Yeah, we just clicked," I smiled shyly. "A couple of months after you left, Joong introduced us together..."
He nodded, choosing not to reply. It got awkward again after that, the silence filling the room in an uncomfortable manner. He was only a couple of feet away from me, but he felt like miles back. My heart cracked a little, maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
"I-I'm happy for you, Y/N, I really am," his voice cracked towards the end. "Congratulations on y-your...wedding."
I swallowed a huge lump on my throat when I saw Wooyoung look down, his hands on either side of his head, cradling it as I heard him sniffle. It felt like thunder to my ears, but I chose not to comment on it so as to not embarrass him.
"It was nice the first year, I felt like I was on top of the world with nothing tying or holding me back," he laughed bitterly. "But afterwards, I felt like shit. I had no family, no friends, no you. Letting you go was the biggest mistake of my life."
I stayed silent, afraid that if I opened my mouth, I would cry too. "I'm afraid now, little dove, I'm so afraid of doing things now because that one, single mistake cost me my whole life..."
I bit my lip hard, my heart breaking a little bit more for him. Oh, how the tables have turned, I used to be the one that always got scared of trying something, and it took me a while to fully commit to Seonghwa.
"I am so, so sorry, Y/N..."
I let Wooyoung pour his heart out, letting him sob silently on the sofa. I gripped my robe tightly, wanting to go to him like the old times, but I couldn't, not because I didn't want to, but because Wooyoung needed his moment. He wasn't only crying for the both of us, but for the suffering, the loneliness of being alone, and everything he went through to get the success he longed to have.
"I'm proud of you, Wooyoung, you did well. You did what you had to do back then, I can't fault you for that," I told him. "Yes, I was mad at you, I'm not going to deny that, but I forgave you a long time ago."
I finally let out all the things I've always wanted to tell him. "One day you were just gone, you couldn't even explain why. We were best friends, soulmates, or so I thought."
"What killed me the most was I felt like our journey together had just begun, and you had left too soon," my breath hitched. "You came, then you left, and you took parts of me I didn't know existed, as well as yours because I never had the chance to explore you."
He stayed silent, listening to me like he once did years ago. "To this day I still ask myself what happened, Wooyoung, what would life have been if you had stayed? What would it be like if we did things differently? For the longest time, I blamed you for leaving, and then myself for letting you go so willingly."
Wooyoung shook his head. "It's not your fault," he gulped. "I blamed myself for your cries that I pretended not to hear, for the anger that consumed me, I blame myself for not holding your hand tighter, for the tears I did not wipe away, and I blame myself for the loss of you."
He stares at me with his tear-stained eyes, not bothering to cover all the emotions he tried to hide earlier. He grinned bitterly at me, I knew how much it meant for anyone to tell him how proud they were of him.
He puts his palm over his chest, eyes closed. "If only you can feel how hard this heart beats for you," he whispered. "It's all for you, but would you be mad if I told you it's not as strong as it once was?"
I wanted to hold his hand once more like we used to do when we were still together, not as lovers, but as good friends, but I was frozen on my chair.
"Why would I be?" I tilted my head curiously, tutting at him lightheartedly to lift the mood in the room. "You underestimate me."
Finally, he smiled genuinely. "I can't help it," he chuckled. "The intensity is less, I can't repair all the hurt I gave you."
He paused, hesitating if he should say what he wanted to say, but he opened his mouth anyway. "You were my dream after all," he whispered begrudgingly. "I was blind not to see it."
That did it. The dread and burden I've been feeling was finally lifted off of me and I finally feel lighter than a feather.
The wounds he gave me were still there and they will heal slowly, but I can't deny my own heart right at this moment.
"Woo?" I smiled tightly. He looked at me expectantly, and it made my insides mushy. "My heart that beated for you will never stop either, so don't beat yourself up. I can never get rid of it."
He stared at me like I held the stars from the sky and offered it to him. In hindsight, I might as well have done it. He scoffed lightly. The insinuation was there, but that's all there is - that I still held him in my heart but it stops here.
"Don't be afraid to try new things, weren't you the one who always told me that? You miss the shots you don't take. If you don't want to make the same mistakes as you did with me, grab them while they're still there," I shrugged.
It was like nothing happened, as if we weren't separated for so long because of our circumstances. We finally caught up, laughed, giggled, gossiped like we used to before things got bad between us. I missed him so much, the way he would laugh like a dying fox, the way his eyes crinkled up, all of it.
We talked, we cried, the whole nine yards. The missing piece I didn't know was missing until now finally completed me. How have I lived that long without him?
"You got your wish now," Wooyoung jokes. "You finally have Mars once you marry Seonghwa."
Ah yes, Seonghwa helped me all throughout my journey. If it wasn't for him, I would have been a goner.
I scoffed, the nostalgia hitting me like a ton of bricks. "I can't believe you still remember that," I laughed. "I do have Hwa now, yes, but the planetarium will always be my first Mars."
Wooyoung smirked playfully. "It had better be. I hated it."
"What?" I threw a pillow at him jokingly. "Why did you take me then?"
"I guess you're going to have to find out, hmm?" he snickered.
He was about to throw a pillow at me too, but when he saw my solemn expression, he stopped.
This time the nostalgia hit us both. That was exactly what he said when I asked if I had to pay for the very first photo he took of me.
Instead of being sad, one look at each other and we burst out laughing, giggling, and guffawing like hyenas in the wild, not caring if anybody heard us and thought we were crazy.
"Y/N?" Wooyoung uttered endearingly. I hummed in response. "Can I hold your hand for the last time?"
I held my hands for him, and he grabbed it so gently I wanted to cry. They were warm, and he held on yet simultaneously set me free.
He brought my hands to his chest, looking like he wanted to kiss them, but he held back out of respect for Seonghwa. Instead of his lips, tears fell onto them.
"If there is another life," he whispered. "I hope I can meet you again and if not, I will find you until I cease to breathe."
His heartbeat was so steady, and I felt my body shake, and once more, my eyes filled with unshed tears and I cried for the both of us this time. He releases one of my hands and wipes my tears delicately.
"Please don't cry, not for me again," he croaked, trying his very best to stop his own tears. "I don't want you to ruin your makeup."
"It's okay, Seonghwa and his team did my makeup anyway," I sniffled. "I hope in the next life you're not going to hate that you need me."
"Never," he objected. "Even if we don't remember, my heart will know."
I swatted his arm playfully. I never meant to giggle a little at that, he had always been so poetic and so cheesy. I guess some things never change.
"Stay for the wedding and reception, please?" I fretted. "I want my best friend there. Mingi tailored a suit for you in case you came."
I was nervous, afraid that he would reject my plea because he might feel out of place. I sighed a breath of relief when I saw him beam.
"I'll be there," Wooyoung mused. "I owe you this at least, Y/N, and I am going to give you and Seonghwa the best photos you both will ever see."
I cheered internally, but my excitement tipped over the top and I couldn't help but outwardly show it. Wooyoung laughed and we finally pulled ourselves in a hug to seal the deal. It was enough to make up for all the years we spent apart because one touch entwined our souls.
I realized that the electric spark that once tickled my skin whenever Wooyoung touched me was still there, and it was as strong as I knew it to be, but they no longer burned.
More tears made their way on Wooyoung's shirt when I recognized that I had healed a long time ago. I had mourned my loss and woke up anew, and the passing time did wonders too.
"Did you feel that?" Wooyoung mumbled, and I knew he referred to that spark.
"Yes," I squeaked. "Yes, I did. But why did you lie?"
Wooyoung paused from rubbing soothing circles on my back. "What do you mean?"
"I can feel your heart. The intensity never lessened, Wooyoung, you lied."
He pulled away from me, his lips pursed as he held my face with his hands. "I have to," he admitted. "I can't ruin the happiness you have found for yourself."
There were no words that needed to be spoken. We had finally found the closure we both needed.
The rest of Ateez entered the room one by one and gave both of us a knowing look. Wooyoung and I both grinned at them and gave them a thumbs up, to which they cheered loudly.
"You good, darling?" Seonghwa kissed my forehead as the others whisked Wooyoung away with teasing tones so he could change his outfit.
"Thank you, Hwa, thank you so much," I gushed, melting at his solemn embrace.
Seonghwa had always been there for me, he was so loving and patient towards me, and most of all, Seonghwa had chosen me, and I chose him.
He had his work too, he was a makeup artist, and that required traveling a lot, but instead of leaving me like Wooyoung did, Seonghwa did everything in his power to take me with him so we could be together. He didn't give up on the love we shared.
Wooyoung and I still loved each other dearly, but we had chosen our paths a long, long time ago - he chose to leave, and I chose to move on with my life. Seonghwa had made me realize that if you really loved somebody, nothing will stop you.
I kissed my future husband tenderly on the lips, to which he returned with urgency. The love I felt for him was different from the love I had for Wooyoung, but it burned just as brighter, if not stronger.
It was the true love I had longed to have.
Seonghwa and I finally tied the knot. Our wedding was a celebration of our love and those who came to celebrate it with us. It was simple, pure and all I ever wanted.
"I, Park Seonghwa, promise to love you, L/N Y/N, and cherish you until my last breath, and even then, you have to make sure I'm dead because I will always come back to you," he vowed, making a couple of people laugh. "You came in at the right time of my life, and I promise that for as long as I am here, I will make you the happiest woman on Earth. I love you so, so much, my darling."
I couldn't even get the words out, tearing up profusely especially with how Seonghwa looked at me with such love. At this point I wasn't the only one sniffling.
"I, L/N Y/N, promise to love you, Park Seonghwa, and cherish you until--- wait, if you go, then I'll be lonely, so please don't go," I giggled along with our friends and family. "You are the reason I'm alive, and I cannot believe I am marrying the love of my life. I will be yours as you want me to, Hwa."
The moment the priest announced that Seonghwa can kiss the bride, everybody whooped and cheered loudly and I couldn't help but laugh in between my now husband's kiss. I could've sworn I saw Hongjoong shed a tear or two but San was too busy teasing the elder by cooing at him mockingly.
Yeosang almost protested when Seonghwa's kiss lasted a little too long, but Wooyoung had quickly covered his mouth and pulled him away while he flailed his arms comically.
The wedding reception was a beautiful garden party that oversaw the lake. We were all surrounded by the fragrant petals that amplified the romantic sunset that gave the sky a pretty tinge of pink and purple.
Yunho was a wonderful host despite the initial nervousness he held and there was never a dull moment, especially when Mingi had caught the flower bouquet I had thrown over my shoulder. The gentle giant's reddened face was definitely the highlight of the night.
Jongho's voice filled the entire reception, to which me and Seonghwa encouraged everybody to dance to the rhythm whether Jongho sang a passionate song for us or an upbeat jazzy tune that made all of us dance the night away. Of course in between, me and my now husband would kiss and everyone would hoot.
Just as our wedding and love were elegant and sweet, so was our wedding cake. Everybody dwindled down to eat and drink to their heart's content. My feet were killing me anyway so I chose to sit down at my spot at the front with Seonghwa.
"You really went all out with this, huh?" I teased him.
He laughed, his deep sending delicious shivers up my spine. "Heck yeah," he snorted. "This is a once in a lifetime thing, baby."
As we watched everyone enjoy the night with their friends and family, I saw Wooyoung bowing to this old man, a friend of my father's, with a huge smile on his face after giving him his calling card.
I was happy for him, it looks like he finally followed his heart and scored another deal after being scared of doing another one. I watched him take his phone out and call somebody giddily, and when he dropped the call, I laughed as I saw him punch the air in excitement.
It was as if he knew someone was watching him. Wooyoung looked back and we made eye contact for the last time as old lovers. There were no words between us, but a million things in our eyes as we finally let go of all the hurt.
He smiled at me, nodding once, and I did the same, smiling back at him softly, before he turned around and left the venue.
And just like that, he was gone.
#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez angst#wooyoung x reader#ateez x reader#ateez fic#ateez imagines#atz x reader#atz#wooyoung#wooyoung ateez#wooyoung x y/n#ateez ot8#ateez fluff#angst#fluff#slow burn#one shot#ateez oneshot#jung wooyoung#kpop#kpop fanfic#ateez one shot#ateez au#ateez wooyoung x reader#ateez wooyoung#plot twist#happy ending just not what you think it is
216 notes
·
View notes
Text
making a part two for my solomon birthmark fic because i was already tempted and 1 (one) person agreed with me lol. shoutout to my birthmark twin @mahi-does-obey-me. i know i said i'd post something else today but the temptation was too great. i worked on this instead of doing my data analysis for my lab lmao <3
part of this was partially inspired by me actually missing a couple birthmarks on myself because I just forgot, or didn’t know they were there until like yesterday lol. just like before, leans suggestive (more so than part 1 i think) but it's very cute. this is probably the raunchiest i'll be getting for a while lol. i feel like i really cooked with this
faded scar
"I don't know about you, but I'm starving." Solomon stretched his arms high above his head. His muscles gleaned with sweat, highlighting his surprisingly toned torso. He scooted to the edge of his bed, and swung his legs onto the ground.
"Can it wait just a few more minutes?" Despite being tired, you sat up and leaned against his back. You threw one arm over his shoulder, and the other was braced against him.
"It can. We can just order in instead." He reached for his D.D.D.
"You were planning on cooking?" You raised an eyebrow.
"I thought it would be cute to present you with a home cooked meal. Because I love you."
"That's alright. You do enough already." You laughed at that thought. You were glad he was deterred from cooking so easily today. You'd like your house to not be set on fire today.
"What do you want for dinner?" You peaked over his shoulder at his screen.
"Can we get Italian please? From my favorite place?" You fluttered your eyelashes at him when he glanced over at you. It worked every time, although you knew you didn't need that extra convincing.
"Of course, my love." He'd do anything you asked him, regardless if that was ordering your favorite food, or abandon the exchange program. It was funny how that worked; a demon started this in order to bring the three realms closer, and as a result, he just brought two humans together that could pose a real threat to what he'd created.
'You're the best!" You pressed a kiss on the back of his neck. He already knew exactly what you wanted, so no more words needed to be said. You studied his back profile. It was littered with countless old scars and pact markings. It clearly displayed the long life he'd lived.
“Sorry about these.” You traced your fingers over the angry red scratches on his back that were beginning to puff up.
“I’ll wear them like the badges of honor they are.” Solomon chuckled.
"You can't do that! The others are going to see." The idea of everyone seeing the marks and connecting the dots mortified you.
"That's not what you said when you gave those to me." He remarked. You smacked his back in response.
"Solomon!" You squealed.
"I can't promise anything." He held the hand that was dangling over his shoulder and kissed it. "Food will be here in about half an hour." He set his phone back down, but he didn't move. He let out a deep breath, and relaxed his back muscles. You watched as the tension left his body.
Neither of you spoke, and instead, you charted each and every mark on his back with your finger. In this searching, you found a line of birthmark down his back. It wasn't very neat, but it followed a pattern, starting at the base of his neck and ending at his hips. Maybe it was a result of all of the magic he'd done over the years, since you'd gathered he didn't know he had them.
"You didn't tell me you had so many birthmarks on your back." As you drew a line from the first to the last mark, a shudder wracked through his entire body.
"And you didn't tell me you had a birthmark on the front of your shoulder, and under your lip." You could hear the smile in his voice.
"I do?" You placed your head on his shoulder, to which he gently thumbed the spot where it must've been.
"How'd you notice that?" You reached up to touch the spot for yourself, not sure what you were expecting to feel.
"The same way you noticed mine. I did a lot of staring at your face for little while." Solomon admitted.
"You stared a lot of other placed too." You playfully rolled your eyes. You went back to staring at his back. You could only think of doing one thing to return the favor of what he'd done for you.
Carefully, starting at his neck, you kissed each and every birthmark, making sure to linger just long enough to make him itch for more. He let out a shaky breath, and seemed like he was suppressing another shudder. You giggled, but didn't stop. "Just remember, food will be here soon." You reminded him of the order he'd placed.
"You're the worst." He sharply inhaled.
"Love you too, baby." You played with the wisps of hairs at the nape of his neck. He squeezed your free hand a couple times, but made no move to stop you. Once you'd made it to the last birthmark, you lingered for a moment, letting your breath fan out over his lower back.
Solomon let out a gasp of what you could only describe as frustration. He threw his legs back up onto the bed, and laid down on his back, yanking the covers over himself. You stifled laughter and draped yourself over his torso. He gave you a peck where he'd pointed out your new birthmark, before letting you settle into him. He checked his D.D.D. quickly for the time.
"We still have twenty more minutes before food gets here." He let you know.
"So that means we have nineteen more minutes of cuddling." You hummed.
"We have fifteen more minutes of cuddling. I need time to put clothes on, dear." You grumbled at his response. You didn't verbally answer, but you knew you could get your nineteen minutes of cuddling whether he liked it or not.
The activities of the day had begun to catch up to you, and you felt your eyelids begin to droop. A couple times, you felt yourself falling asleep, and shook yourself awake, much to Solomon's amusement. You weren't sure how much time had passed before he spoke to you again.
“I think love is being by your side.”
“Huh?” You mumbled, already half asleep.
“When we first met, you ask me what I thought love was. I never answered you.”
“You’re adorable.” You planted a kiss on his neck, since your face was already buried in it.
You were glad you’d chosen him.
#gn reader#drabble#obey me#obey me!#obey me x reader#obey me shall we date#obey me solomon#omswd#obey me! shall we date#obey me! shall we date?
108 notes
·
View notes
Text
take it out on me - h.m.
a/n: hi! i'm trying to get back into writing longer stuff that's not in headcanon format so let's see how that goes (also this was a requested prompt and 🫣🥵)
warnings: smut (18+), dirty talk, slight nipple play? minor overstimulation? hope is stressed :(, but not for long lmao, i accidentally deleted this whole thing and had to write it again, so sorry for any mistakes :(
hope's stress-filled lifestyle was getting to her, and she knew it.
being both a full time student and monster hunter wasn't exactly the easiest thing, but she thought she would be able to handle it with ease.
that was, until, malivore decided to bombard the salvatore school with creatures during the week of final exams.
hope was constantly getting pulled away from her studies by alaric, and although she knew she was protecting herself and those she loved, she couldn't help but be annoyed.
performing well in school had always been important to hope, and not being able to prepare had her brain in shambles.
when hope finally does get to sit down to study, she just can't focus. she has too many things to think about, and she just can't seem to organize herself.
closing her book in dismay, she throws herself onto her bed and stares at the ceiling.
she decides that if she's not going to be studying, she might as well have company. picking up her phone for the first time in what feels like hours, she sends a text to her girlfriend.
exams are stressing me out and i think i'd feel better with you here.
hope stares blankly for a few minutes, awaiting a response, until she hears the door to her bedroom open.
"hey beautiful," y/n says, plopping down on the bed next to hope.
"couldn't even get a text back?" hope teases, giving y/n a quick peck on the lips.
"i was a little busy running over here."
hope can't help but laugh, admiring the girl in front of her. she was wearing an oversized sweatshirt and joggers that made her look undeniably adorable.
when y/n speaks again, there's concern in her voice.
"so, stressed about your exams, huh?"
"i just can't focus on reading my textbooks. dr. saltzman has me running around what feels like the whole world, and i'm just exhausted."
y/n's heart twinges hearing the pain in hope's voice. she rests her hand on her girlfriend's leg, hoping to provide some comfort.
"he relies on you too much. i know you're like, a powerful force and he's just an old man, but..."
before y/n can finish her sentence, hope is laughing harder than she has in days.
"you always know how to make me feel better," hope smiles, looking into y/n's eyes.
"actually, speaking of that," y/n pauses. "i had an idea."
y/n stands up, never breaking eye contact with hope. hope stares up at her, confusion in her eyes, but her questions are answered when y/n takes her hoodie off, her joggers following shortly after.
hope is speechless when she sees her girlfriend in a set of deep red lace. the color compliments y/n's skin perfectly, the material extenuating hope's favorite parts of her.
"god, y/n," hope chokes out. "what's this all about?"
"i thought i could, help with the stress," y/n seduces, wrapping her legs around hope's waist and resting her hand on her girlfriend's face. "maybe you could take it out on me, huh?"
the second y/n finishes speaking, hope pulls her into a passionate kiss, y/n's hands still resting on her face.
"i knew you'd like this surprise," y/n teases in between kisses.
"you're so beautiful," hope responds, holding y/n's waist tightly.
"take it off, hope."
without another word, hope makes quick work of taking off y/n's lace bra and underwear, throwing them across her bedroom before doing the same to her own.
unable to help herself, hope cups y/n's chest, running her fingers lightly across her nipples. y/n lets out a guttural moan, her fingers in hope's hair.
"fuck, hope," y/n slurs before giving hope a gentle push, encouraging her to lay on her back.
"i'm gonna fuck you until you can't think of anything else but me, nevermind stress about anything," y/n whispers, lightly kissing hope's neck.
y/n continues kissing down hope's body until she lands at her inner thighs, peppering them in soft pecks.
"please, don't tease y/n. need this so bad," hope whimpers, trying to raise her hips enough to ride y/n's face.
"oh i know you need this, hope. you're so wet for me already," y/n coos, just barely running her finger up hope's pussy.
"please baby, want it so bad," hope moans, her desperation growing by the second.
"want what, pretty girl? you gotta tell me what you want, or i can't give it to you." y/n knows that bringing hope to the brink of insanity makes the entire experience more gratifying.
"i need you to eat me out, y/n," hope begs.
satisfied by hope's response, y/n's tongue finally makes contact with her, sending hope into a state of ecstacy immediately.
hope feels like she can't contain herself, not even attempting to keep her voice down. she pulls y/n closer by her hair, unable to get enough of her.
hope's moans only motivate y/n, her pace quickening with every noise out of hope's mouth.
"can't be stressed if you're busy cumming on my face, pretty girl," y/n teases, hearing hope only get louder at the sound of her words.
"you just, you feel so good y/n," hope writhes as she speaks, her voice shaking.
y/n is relentless, not wasting a second. she knows how badly hope needs this. how badly hope needs her.
luckily for hope, the feeling was mutual.
y/n was in awe of the way hope looked under her, the desperation and need vibrant in her eyes.
without hesitation, y/n thrusts a finger into hope, earning a near-scream from her girlfriend.
"oh god y/n, more," she whines, trying to coax the girl into adding another finger.
when she does, the combination of y/n's fingers and mouth are almost too much for hope, sensitivity coursing through her body.
"need to cum baby, can't take any more," hope whines, struggling to form a full sentence.
"then cum for me, beautiful. let it all out," y/n talks hope through her orgasm, enjoying every second of her reaction.
hope somewhat collapses, her legs lightly shaking and her cheeks flushed.
"i don't think i'm stressed anymore," hope laughs, y/n soon joining her.
"always here to help."
#hope mikaelson#hope mikaelson x reader#wlw#legacies#legacies x reader#hope mikaelson x fem reader#the originals x reader#hope mikaelson x fem! reader#hope mikaelson headcanons#hope mikaelson smut#hope mikaelson imagine#hope mikaelson fic
600 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lovestruck
masterlist
pairing: draco malfoy x female reader
warnings: fluff, some harassment-ish, protective draco, drinking, cursing
summary: while at one of slytherin's parties, a boy was making you uncomfortable, so draco comes to help
a/n: i'm so bad at coming up with ideas so leave requests if you have any lmao
song: slow down - chase atlantic
Music was blasting, light beams were moving around the room, and it smelt of alcohol. All the students were dancing or drinking.
You usually don't go to events like this, but after much convincing from your friends, you reluctantly agreed.
You were in a dress that hugged you well, showing off your beautiful figure.
You had some light makeup and your hair done with the help of your friend.
While dancing, you excused yourself to grab a drink in hopes of loosening you up.
While getting your drink, you felt a presence a bit too close for your comfort. You turn your head and look to see an older boy watching you, lust clear in his gaze.
"Hello," you greet him with hesitant eyes.
"Hi, I'm Alexander- but you can call me Alex," he introduces himself with a grin.
"Oh, I'm y/n"
"I know, I've seen you around school," he says while he places an arm on your waist.
You look at his hand on you and back up at him.
"Um, I better get back to you my friends, I told them I'd only been a minute, excuse me," you let out a nervous laugh and try to step back.
"Oh really? I was hoping I could dance with you," he tightens his grip on you.
Unbeknownst to you, your close friend Draco has been watching the scene unfold. His face has had clear disdain on his face and he was tempted to go punch the guy.
He always looked out for you, at first he thought it was because you are the only one who can truly tolerate him. Seeing as he grew up, he wasn't familiar with the emotions he felt. However, over time he realized it was because he had feelings for you. Not that he ever told you, in fear of ruining your friendship.
He saw how uncomfortable you looked, and when he saw the boy lean closer to your face, he got up and went over you.
"Come on, pretty girl. I can show you a good time," he winked.
"No thanks, I should really-"
"How about just for a little-"
"Y/n! Hello, darling. I've been looking all over for you," you hear Draco's voice as he wraps an arm around you. Alexander drops the hand that was on your waist and looks at him.
Draco mumbles in your ear he'll handle the boy. You relax under his arm and smile at him, finding so much comfort from his presence.
"And who are you?" Draco asks, looking at the guy with a scorn face.
"Alexander Fenrin," he stares at Draco's arm around you.
"Hm, well, my girlfriend and I were just about to go to bed," Draco starts to pull you away.
Draco looked back and muttered a few curses to make sure he wouldn't touch another female again.
Once you went upstairs and into his room you let out a sigh of relief.
"Oh, Draco, thank you so much," you hugged him.
"No need for thanks, love, he was a dick," he kissed the top of your head.
"I'm sorry for taking you away from the party. I was trying to handle it myself, I told him no and-"
"Never apologize to me, I would choose to be with you over a party anyday"
"I would too," you blush.
"He didn't hurt you at all did he," he looked all over you with worried eyes.
"It was just my hip, but I'm okay," you assure him.
"Asshole," he mutters.
"So... girlfriend huh?" you wiggle your eyebrows at him. His ears and cheeks turn a light shade of red.
"I- um- I- w- was-"
"I'm only joking, Draco," you giggle.
"It's not funny"
"Just a bit. It's an honor to be the first person to make the Draco Malfoy a stuttering mess," you bow.
"Mhm," he rolls his eyes.
He looks you up and down, the outfit you are wearing has many things running through his mind that should definitely not be.
The curtains were open so the only light was the moonlight coming through the window. He took in your beautiful face and your features, memorizing everything about you.
"Why do you look at me like that," you mutter, avoiding eye contact.
"Like what?"
"Like you're lovestruck," you whisper as he steps closer to you, only a few inches away.
"That's because I am"
#nina writes 🤭💗#draco fluff#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy fluff#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco malfoy oneshot#draco malfoy#harry potter#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#slytherin#soft draco malfoy#love struck#draco x you#draco x reader#hogwarts#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
I know you don’t rewrite arcs until they’re done, but I love hearing about your early ideas while I brood over how badly this arc has let me down. Do you have any like super vague ideas about Splashtail’s motivations yet? He’s like a way worse Hawkfrost in my mind, because they’re both very young cats who Are Just Evil. But Hawkfrost had a genuinely interesting backstory that the Erin’s simply fumbled, meanwhile Splashtail is a cartoonishly evil atheist. I feel nothing towards him, he’s not intimidating or interesting or even funny. Save me Bonefall save me (if I got something wrong please ignore it, these books are so disappointing my brain is making me forget them to protect itself.)
If it helps at all, I'm staying sane with the observation that Hawkfrost is a high charisma character making critical failure rolls, while Splashtail is a cringefail loser with no stats rolling nat20s. He becomes 50% more sufferable when you imagine a long, pungent pause after anything he says, broken only by the sound of an offscreen player tossing some dice. When the silence is broken, it's whatever NPC has been charmed speaking in the beleaguered voice of the dungeon master.
SO my early thoughts are shaping up to be that I'd like to do a slightly more serious version of that.
BB!Splashtail is the Clan equivalent of a 19-year-old, desperate for more power and respect in his society. In terms of his stats, he's promising but not outstanding. A decent fighter, a competent leader. Even in terms of lineage; his father is Sneezecloud, a respected trader and negotiator, but his mother is Havenpelt. An ex-rogue who has sworn to live by the ways of RiverClan.
Curlfeather is the one with the plans. She's the one with vision. Daughter of Reedwhisker, grandchild of Mistystar, with grand leaders like Bluestar, Oakheart, and Crookedstar in her past, greatness runs in her blood. Scandal, too-- but for some reason it's acceptable that her great-grandparents were codebreaking traitors.
Splashtail hates Curlfeather, but he can't get anywhere unless he tries to be her. He steals HER plans. He acts like SHE does. Manages to snatch power from her paws, and then has no idea what to do with it.
I'm thinking that I want his reign to be going smoothly at first, actually, going from a bit of a bossy jerk, to trying to enact Curlfeather's ambitions by launching fights and doing it badly, to active tyranny as he tries to keep control over RiverClan. Depending on how Star goes, I might have Berryheart make some kind of move to seize power over him.
At the core of how I see him though, is that Splashtail has no plan. His ideology leans Thistle Law... in a sort of dumbass 4Channer kind of way. He talks a big game about the glory of battle, but folds fast when his enemy can punch back. The only person he could successfully manipulate was a traumatized child. He will bring back pureblooded glory to the Clan, except his personal family of course
As for the Evil Atheism stuff... lol. Lmao, even. Not needed. If I need to make him a more powerful and serious danger, it's not going to come from the fact he's godless. If being an atheist gave you super murder powers, Bill Nye would have used them to obliterate half of the US government by now.
Depending on how the last book of ASC goes,
The Harelight kill is probably going to get changed to Hallowflight. Harelight watches his dad die, and Splashstar is drenched in the blood of one of RiverClan's most famous heroes. No turning back after that.
On that note I'd also make the fight longer and bloodier. A butchery of an execution showcasing Splashtail fighting like a beast and Hallowflight like a trained warrior.
I REAALLY want to make Splashtail's death a drowning. Curlfeather, demon she is now, finishes him off by dragging him under. To protect her daughter. They will have to do something VERY satisfying for me to not do this.
162 notes
·
View notes
Text
An Honest Mistake
Sanji x Reader
I am such a slut for character A catches character B partially or fully unclothed by accident.
Also I don't hate Zoro, I just wanted to write him in a way that was concurrent with Sanji's little bitch attitude. This is 100% written with anime Sanji in mind, love that pathetic wet cat of a man
Bro this turned into something...Reader is MEAN in this lmao, but tbh I really don't blame her.
Warnings: fem!reader, walking in on accident, mean!reader, sub!sanji, bro I would call this dubcon...Sanji reciprocates tho, unprotected p in v (bro, safe sex)
Word Count: 2,600-ish
The sun was high in the sky, the birds were singing, and the Going Merry was moving languidly through the sea. What a perfect day.
Sanji had to piss. The blonde pacing back and forth before the bathroom door.
"Zoro, fuck this I'm coming in." Sanji threatened, banging repeatedly on the door.
The mosshead snapped back at him through the thick wood, voice hindered by the barrier. "Wanna see my dick that bad, shitty waiter?"
Sanji bristled with anger, kicking the door. If he was lucky, Zoro would startle, slip in the shower, and break his neck. While the idea was lovely, he wouldn't let that asshole have the last word. "No one wants to see that carrot stick excuse for a dick. I have to piss. I'll be back in five minutes, if you aren't done, I don't care, I'm coming in."
He stalked off before the swordsman could snark back. Sanji felt antsy, he had to piss bad. Curse that green-haired bastard, of course he'd be taking the world's longest shower. He could probably fucking drain all of the East Blue with how long he's taking, Sanji thought bitterly.
What Sanji failed to notice in his stewing, was how Zoro had promptly finished his shower, muttering as he left the bathroom, towel low on his hip.
-------
You practically moaned with relief as the hot water cascaded down your naked body. After an early morning of small repairs to the ship, you were sweaty and sore. You smiled in relief, massaging shampoo into your scalp. Gods this was perfection. It seemed showering was the only time you got by yourself on this ship. You washed your body, happily lathering yourself in a particularly pleasant soap you'd picked up at the last island. You began humming to yourself, really working the lather in.
After truly savouring the experience, you were done. You turned the water off, shivering from the lack of hot water. You pulled the flimsy curtain back, stretching out to grab your towel. You didn't even know why you bothered with the curtain, it was practically transparent. The towel rod was just out of reach. Fuck, who decided to put the towel rack so far out of the way anyway?
BANG!
You froze in fear. An angry voice ringing through the door. Was that Sanji? What the fuck?
------
When Sanji circled back, he could still hear the water running. He growled in anger. Now Zoro was just taking the piss. He rapped at the door as a courtesy. No answer. Oh now this asshole was just mocking him.
He heard the water shut off. He kicked the door, trying to provoke a response. When no answer rewarded him, he got serious. Fine, he smirked, formulating a plan. Sanji would teach him to stop being such an asshole. He'd drag the swordsman out of that bathroom himself.
Steeling his resolve, he flung the door open, stalking into the bathroom, steam caressing his face. He began lecturing, pointing for emphasis.
"Now listen here you bastard, I told you I'd come in here and now I'm gonna kick you out my-"
That was not Zoro.
Sanji froze as he took in your nude body, soaking wet. He could see your heaving breasts, nipples hard from the cold air. He felt his heart stop. You squealed, slapping a hand over your privates before he could see, catching only a glimpse of the patch of hair covering you. The action pushed your breasts together. Sanji wanted to move, really he did, but he felt frozen by the view. With your other hand you desperately tried to cover your body with the shower curtain. Realistically, it did nothing. Sanji's mouth going dry at the sight. He tried to tear his eyes away from your nude form, but it was mesmerising him. You said something, but Sanji couldn't hear you over the sound of his heart pumping, blood rushing to his cock.
"Can you at least close the fucking door you creep?"
Oh. Fuck. The door was still open. Dumbly, Sanji turned around and shut the door. You groaned. Sanji throbbed.
"I was kind of hoping you'd LEAVE."
That seemed to snap him out of it.
"I am so sorry." He apologised loudly, he heard you scoff behind him. "No, really, I'm sorry!"
"If you're so sorry, get the fuck out." You spat. He felt his cock throb at your harsh tone.
"I can't." He hated how small his voice sounded. "I can't move right now."
You growled. As if he could feel the vibrations himself, Sanji bit back a moan. "Fine! I'm going to grab my towel. If you peek, I will fucking kill you."
He heard shuffling behind him. He stiffened. Eyes forward, eyes forward, he repeated like a mantra. His eyes traced the grain of the word. Anything to take his mind off the fact that you were naked, dripping wet, and within arm's reach. His eyes spied your clothing to his right, just folded on the toilet seat, waiting to be changed into. He gulped.
"Fine." You huffed. "I'm decent. Mind telling me why the fuck you burst in here?"
"Uh, I- Well-" Sanji stuttered. He heard you tsk at him.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you Sanji."
Sanji froze. "I-I can't do that (name)."
"I don't care how fucking hard you are you pervert. Look at me when you're speaking to me."
Sanji whimpered. Absolutely mortified, he clasped his hands together, covering his erection from your view. Even now he was throbbing from the humiliation. With a whine, he turned to face you.
Oh. You looked pissed. Breathtakingly gorgeous, but pissed. He tried desperately to keep his eyes on your face. You quirked a brow at him, arms crossed over your chest, both to keep your towel close to you, and to express your disappointment. Sanji shuddered.
"I'll ask you again. Why did you think it was acceptable to burst in on a woman bathing?"
He cringed. "I- You see- Zoro."
"Oh you were planning to catch Zoro showering, I see now." You snarked. Gods, did you have any idea how hot you were when you were mean? Sanji took a deep breath.
"I had to go. Zoro had been in the shower for ages. When I came back and the shower was still going...I thought it was still him."
"You must have had to go bad. Poor baby." You mused. "Go on then."
"What?!"
"Go on, if you have to piss so bad, go now. The toilet's free after all."
Sanji flushed a dark red. "I-I can't."
"Guess you didn't have to go so bad then?"
Sanji felt tears prick his eyes. He understood you were upset, but this was just too much. And yet.... that perverted part of his brain was screaming out at the treatment, begging you for something, anything.
"I can't!" He whined dropped his eyes to the floor, voice becoming a whisper. "I'm too hard."
He heard you sigh. There was no way Sanji could ever meet your eyes now. "You're lucky you're cute."
Sanji short circuited.
"What?"
You laughed, he dared to look at you, seeing you regarding him with lidded eyes and a lopsided grin. "I said you're lucky you're cute. If you were anyone else I'd have kicked your ass."
"You're not mad?"
"Honey." You stalled for emphasis, grin unwavering. "I am fucking furious. However, I believe you. It seems like something you'd do. Alright...Show me then."
Sanji flushed, his ears burning from embarrassment. You clicked your tongue. "You saw mine, only fair I see yours."
He quickly looked at you again, thinking of how he could get out of it. Your grin was still there, but there really was a softness apparent. Wait? Were you enjoying this? You winked at him.
Oh. Oh he got it now.
Sanji nodded. Removing his hands. You whistled lowly. He still felt embarrassed, but there was that lingering reminder that you were enjoying this just as he was. His hand fiddled with the fastening, the drag of the zipper leaving him hissing. He pushed his trousers to pool at his ankles. Sanji faltered, but one look into how hungrily your eyes devoured him, he continued. His cock was evident through his underwear, the hard bulge standing proudly. He blushed.
Hooking his thumbs into his waistband, dragging the underwear down slowly, just in case he needed to back out quickly. His cock caught on the fabric, but with a bit of resistance the fabric slipped, tucking under his balls. His cock slapped lewdly against his stomach, the noise reverberating through the small room. Sanji cringed at the sound. But you, you honest to gods moaned. He tampered down the humiliation, further pushing the underwear down to meet his pants.
It took buckets of courage, but he flicked his eyes up to meet yours, gasping at what he saw. You were biting your lip, staring at his cock hungrily.
"Want me to help you Sanji?"
Sanji didn't think he could respond faster, whining out a hurried "Please."
"Get on the toilet seat then."
Sanji looked at you confused. You rolled your eyes.
"I just had a hot shower, I'm not standing up to fuck you. Sit down please."
Sanji squeaked at your vulgarity, moving quickly to get in position. He kicked himself out of the pooled fabric. He moved your clothing to rest on the bathroom cabinet.
The toilet lid was cold. Incredibly cold on his balls, and he shivered. You laughed sincerely.
"Your jacket and shirt, Sanji."
Oh! Right. He'd forgotten about that. At a speed that honestly made you giggle, he divulged his jacket. Fingers nimbly undoing his shirt. As he reached for his tie, you stopped him.
"Uh uh. That stays on." Sanji whimpered.
Once he was naked, save for his shoes, socks, and tie, you whistled appreciatively. He felt mortified at the realisation his shoes were still on, somehow making him feel more naked. He met your lust-filled eyes.
"Well don't you look good enough to eat handsome. Hope you don't mind if I take a seat?"
You dropped the towel, momentarily stunning the man. Sanji's eyes darted around, evident he was trying to commit you to memory. You laughed. Once you reached him, your leant down, gripping his knees with your hands. Sanji's eyes scrunched shut at the feeling of you touching him, his cock jumping appreciatively. Perversely, you spread Sanji's thighs, relishing in his undignified squeal. Sanji opened his eyes, seeing you spit in your hand, wicked eyes meeting his.
Sanji let out a cry of relief when your hand wrapped around his cock, spreading thick precum down his shaft. You squeezed him, grinning when he whined. You pumped him a few times before removing your hand, leaving the blonde to whimper and plead. He shut up when you hovered over his lap, fingers playing with his tie.
"Here we go. Time to reward you for being such a good boy."
You lined him up with your entrance, his tip just touching. He stopped you.
"W-wait! What about you?"
You laughed, eyes sparkling. "Sanji I am soaked. You don't realise just how sexy you look right now."
With a moan you sunk down on the man. His girth stretched you deliciously. Unceremoniously, you bottomed out. Sanji whined, trying desperately to keep his hips still. After a few seconds of adjusting you began a hurried pace. Sanji would have doubled over from the speed were you not holding him up. His eyes rolled back. Gods, the way your tits dragged along his chest, or the way your cunt squeezed him deliciously. Fuck, he was delirious with pleasure.
He tried to keep quiet, really he did. But the way you were fucking him, clearly in charge, was killing him. Moans tumbled from his mouth. You laughed, pulling him into a wet kiss. You swallowed his moans, picking up your pace. The wet slapping that reverberated throughout the bathroom should embarrass the both of you, and yet you two were too lost in pleasure to care. You groaned into his mouth, retreating you tongue to suck his bottom lip into your mouth.
One hand snuck up to grab his tie, fisting it in your hand and pulling it tight. Sanji broke your kiss to whine keenly, before diving back in. You pulled back, leaning down to suck at his neck. Sanji squealed, hips stuttering.
Oh. He was close.
Your grip on his tie never faulted, instead you pulled harder, yanking him so your lips met his ear.
"Cum for me pretty boy, cum like the dirty pervert you are."
Sanji's hands clamped on your hips so hard it left marks. He began rutting up into you ruthlessly, pride swelling in him at the delicious moan you made. You whined, kissing him below the ear.
"Fuck I'm so close. C'mon baby, cum in me, want it bad."
Sanji's vision exploded into white, his voice raising embarrassingly high as he came. Watching the way his face scrunched up sent you over the edge, and he felt you clench around him like you'd never let him go. The two of you rode through your orgasms, kissing each other hungrily.
The two of you came down from your highs, panting wildly, and staring into each other's eyes.
You caught your breath, as Sanji caught his. Sanji was flushed, sweat coating him. You on the other hand were blushing a bright red, shyness setting in.
"Was that okay?" You asked. Sanji laughed, crushing you against him, burying his face in your chest. You laughed.
"Perfect." He mumbled from his hiding place. Sanji stared up at you. "Sorry for bursting in on you."
You smiled down at him, expression filled with love. "Nah, m'glad it was you. Sorry for using your humiliation kink against you."
Sanji whined. "I do not have a humiliation kink."
"With what I just saw? I beg to differ." You played with his tie, eyes soft. "Love you, you big softie."
"And I love you, my sexy dominatrix."
You laughed, pulling the blonde in for another kiss. "Really do love you. Please don't think I hate you, or that I meant that stuff...well, maybe I meant it a little. I...you're capable of being treated softly Sanji, and I do intend to do just that. Even if you do make me want to throttle you sometimes.."
Fuck he was grateful he had burst in on you, if he could get you treating him like that one minute, and this soft the next.
With a combined groan you pulled yourself off him. Sanji cringing at his soft cock dragging through your walls. You began cleaning him up with your towel, cleaning yourself as you went. Sanji raised a brow.
"Gotta wash it anyway. Now get dressed and get out. I'll get dressed and leave later. Don't want anyone to be suspicious." You paused. "Well, anyone who didn't hear you."
Sanji laughed. Fuck, he guessed he really did love you. You gestured with your hands for him to shoo, swatting lightly at his ass he gathered his clothes. Perhaps he wouldn't knock next time either. He stiffened, causing you to regard him with a raised brow.
"You okay sweetheart?"
"I still have to piss."
#sanji x reader#black leg sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji x reader#one piece x reader#smut#i have POTS so my ass would DIE if i had sex upright after a hot shower lmao#like GIRL i can hardly stay upright after a shower
616 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Encounter of Two Flames | React | Spoilers
HOW WE DOIN' LOVELIES? We've got ourselves a Gehenna eventtttt<3 Why not have one during the anniversary of WHB launching? Satan was our first and he's here to tell us his story.
I for one feel like it's nice getting know "young" Satan and seeing this new sprite of his.
I waited for compile the first four days together because making a post for each damn day was becoming tedious lol. Sure it's good for spreading out screenshots but my adhd is k i l l i n g me.
Let's get started tho yeah?
"As they always do"....
Like good fucking lord Gehenna is always being attacked. I've said this once and I'll say it again like the angels really have fucking beef with Satan it seems. They barely touch the other parts of Hell.
Cameo from the bae, thank you for letting us know your thoughts boo. ʃƪ˘ﻬ˘) ♡´
So anyways Gehenna is under fire for a different reason today, it is none other than Sitri that's burning up the entire place and even his sprite is just nothing but blue fire.
In science class ya'll, we remember that blue flames are actually hotter than the orange ones. So I can imagine it's a good thing that Solomon or MC weren't here cause yeah they would of been instantly vaporized.
But all the devils are trying to put the fire out, can't cause water ofc won't help here.
I imagine Sitri's fire is more of a energy/essence sourced fire though so ofc it can't be extinguished by "normal" methods.
AND THEN HERE COMES THE BOO BEAR.
Young Satan is peak I swear. He's spunky, full of life, catty, I feel he's easily annoyed more, and just got that "it" factor. Not to say the older him is drained and used up, but definitely more mature.
So he goes to his demonic monster form, which as far as we've seen he's the only one that has a form like that. I'd like to assume the others do too but don't have to use it as often or at all.
cough we should have a h-scene with monster demon satan cough
So....why did Sitri burn up Gehenna??
Well it turns out that Sitri wasn't necessarily doing this on purpose.
Normally, our blue haired mr perfect shoes has everything together. Here he doesn't. Phew....Sitri I know something ain't right when your room is as messy as Paimon's (canon stuff that Paimon doesn't keep his room clean lmao)
Like? even Sitri's appearance is all kinds of fucked. Dry cracked lips, fucked up hair, like our baby is not doing well ya'll.
Andddd Belialllllll the bae <3 comes to visit. Jjyu and his loud mouthed self..
What kills me is that Sitri literally was like "I didn't hear you."
WHAT?
And then we find out through Belial writing it down because he didn't want Jjyu making shit worse (good call) that it wasn't Sitri's fault that the recent battle went all wrong and a lot of devils were killed in the process.
Sitri feels responsible for their deaths and is spiraling right now overthinking the past and thinking how it could have been better.
I feel sorry for him, because there was a time in my life where I would do the same and basically be so deep in my regret and guilt I neglected my health, my surroundings, my friendships...pretty much everything. It wasn't a good time so I know what Sitri is going through.
We even hear him mention that Zagan was badly injured (Astaroth too)
Jjyu shut the hell up omg lmaooooo
(him in response to Sitri explaining that Zagan could barely speak he was hurt so badly) Belial glares at him for that btw lmao
Satan also got injured it seems so it sounds like this battle went really bad.
Sitri even asks to be alone, and well Belial gets it and leaves promptly. I really like seeing Belial be more interactive this go around because we barely get that from the Gehenna devils in the main story and the last event in Gehenna was mostly just Minhyeok and Ppyong.
This gives me an insight as to how Belial is in personality, and really aside from Jjyu, he's really just chill and seems very pleasant to be around in general. I wish we could see what his eyes look like. It would change me forever.
So we're at the meeting that happens a few days later and well Sitri is still in a sullen mood. Since Zagan and Astaroth are out of commission, Amy was invited to come.
Oh so it seems Amy is going to be popping up since we got introduced. That's pretty nifty.
And Leraye is definitely worried about Sitri, wondering if he's sleeping, eating, and his condition has gotten worse. I imagine Sitri hasn't sleep in days since the event.
Paimon tries to lighten the mood but bless his heart it doesn't work when...
Amy starts going off about Sitri ordering him and his men to go east, and well that was the wrong call this time. I see it as a simple miscalculation but in the heat of war...perhaps things like this can't just be mistakes. lives are at stake, and devils aren't being re-produced anymore. Their extinction is literally inevitable during these battles.
Even if it weren't, lives were still lost and Amy takes this personally because it was HIS men who were affected the most.
I guess this seemed like the "best" time to bring up why Amy hates Sitri so much but it's like???? "because he looks like a girl?"
I'm just going to take this as Amy just not liking how elegant Sitri is with everything and how it compares to his rough and rash behavior. I don't think he truly would care if anyone looks more feminine.
And well because Amy started some shit, Sitri took a piece of paper, spat in it and threw it at Amy. So naturally...here we are.
Now a couple things about this scene...Zagan is present...and then there's a random devil there which this a private meeting for the nobles so why????
idk....let's just keep going lol
So Amy goes on to further berate Sitri and saying that he's aware that him and his subordinates have to follow orders once they get them from the center, so if the orders were better thought out his men wouldn't of died.
Sitri tells him why doesn't he kill him then since it was as if he did it himself and Amy is all like ????
And here we see more of their banter dynamic and it's almost as if Amy literally just holds back and only fights with words. Sitri physically maims and does things to him just as we saw in the previous event.
He even broke his wrist here like damn. And came in like-
Like good lord Sitri chill
And then Sitri starts to smack the shit out of him and cuss him out some more and Paimon stops the fight because Amy is literally about to give him a concussion at this point. Paimon invited Amy because he felt it would be good to go over the battle with him there but he realizes all it did was make things worse.
Leraye goes to even try and talk with Sitri to see if he's taking care of himself and well, obviously he's not. He's still focused on the battle and his mistakes.
A few days later happens and Sitri is front and center because Amy pretty much said he isn't listening to him anymore and doing what he thinks is best.
And Sitri isn't doing so hot in battle either. He's shooting without a plan or strategy, other devils are just standing around. Yes angel's are dying but he's just...doing whatever and hasn't had proper sleep or anything.
He's such a mess Satan had to come in and kick his ass in the middle of battle and set him straight.
So it's safe to say that Satan doesn't like tasteless and useless anger. There has to be a purpose for your anger and for him to thrive on it and he just ain't diggin' it from Sitri at the moment.
Oh boy...I don't have a good feeling about that.
So we go back to the time when Gehenna was up in flames. We have Leraye snippin' and doin' his thing and Ppyong helping with bringing over bullets. They then notice Sitri on the battlefield and he seems to be killing every single angel accurately but....our boy Leraye knows best.
He tells Ppyong to STOP Sitri because this isn't a planned attack, he is literally killing everyone that gets in his range. Doesn't matter if it's angel or devil.
Sitri is literally so damn tired he can't even notice or care anymore and is just going at it.
And that's when everyone notices the flames at the same time. They are erupting from Sitri's body.
Belial even uses his hoarse voice to call out to Sitri and we know that's serious.
And sorry like I know that Sitri is in a bad place and bad spot rn but he looks so pretty here. The blue and pink contrasts are definitely a Sitri signature look.
But yeah that fire is way too hot for anyone to do anything. Even Leraye is told that he can't help. So Ppyong runs off to find Amy to help.
Leraye does attempt though, but it's no use, and Paimon had to come and save him. (they're so cute I love them)
And ya'll it was THREE damn days that fires were going and THREE days that Sitri was like that just in the middle of the square. Also...damn why did it take three days for Ppyong to go find Amy? (he explains later that the teleportation talisman just couldn't keep up with Amy)
But the Gehenna bois are all going over how they don't blame Sitri, they blame themselves for letting him hold that weight of being responsible for everything that happens. It's that weight that led to his current state and now things were worse off for everyone but they feared most for Sitri's life and well-being.
But Amy finally shows up and well his attempts to help the situation were hopeful at first...but sadly...
Amy gets stabbed in the stomach with one of the iron maiden spikes...which at this point are surrounding Sitri like vines to protect him. This raw power is actually quite impressive if it weren't ya know killing everyone around him in a blind haze.
I wonder if he was able to tap into that while training in Hades?
But...yeah I was rooting for Amy to bring him back here because you know frenemies and stuff like that (or for those who ship them only Amy can bring him back)
BUT Satan comes to the rescue!
Poor Amy, I swear he's always gettin' tossed around and shit lol
Also as many times Amy has been slashed and punctured in the stomach you would assume he'd never recover from that.
But we have something important here that I'd like to talk about for a minute that Satan reveals...
He mentions that Sitri is dealing with depression and that he must have gotten it from him. If we remember from his info card he is the embodiment of depression in Hell. He is depression. So his right hand devil that's always around him? Yeah eventually he's gonna get bit by the bug.
And I like that Satan isn't the typical representation of depression either. He always seems upbeat, active, and doing everything and anything. But as we have seen in the main story he has emotional wounds that haven't healed and he wonders if they will. He was speaking of the loss of Solomon, but I'm sure there's more to it than that which existed way before he even met him.
Now we see that Sitri is literally not taking care of himself, wallowing, self destructing, that's what most folks usually see and demonize when folks are going through IRL depression. They never seem to pay attention to the person who has it all together because why would they have depression? they're doing fine right?
n o p e.
So here we are...knowing the source. And why Satan has decided to be the one to save Sitri. And well since he can't do that as himself he has to transform to his monster form to do it.
I'd just like to bring up that he's so damn cute here. The jokester.
But it seems that Satan doesn't take his monster form often. We've seen it first when he met Solomon to test him, we see it when he fights Mammon that one time in one of the comics iirc, and we see it now.
I wonder when was the first time he ever had to use his monster form?
But either way, he carries Sitri out of the flames, and even though Sitri is still on fucking fire burning on his back Satan can handle it. Even Astaroth is concerned and comes to see if Satan is okay.
Satan starts traveling somewhere..."where memories flicker" to go put out the fire though, and everyone is following him.
Satan keeps mentioning that Sitri kept a promise to him that he wouldn't die. And I think we will get to the root of that soon.
And that's when we go to a F L A S H B A C K
ALRIGHT TIMELINE SHIT TAHNK
So...with this bit of info this is what I've gathered-
-Satan, Belphie, Mammon, and Leviathan all were already here before Lucifer was
-Gehenna was not in existence yet, but Tartaros and Hades were
-This possibly happened around the same time that Mammon was trapped (or after)
S T O P fueling my damn SHIP (and by stop I mean keep doing it.)
So apparently in a land assuming early Gehenna there were rumors of a beautiful beast, and Satan was like "oh levi??? :D" but clearly not him lol
I just think it's funny that his first thought was Leviathan. (he'd be like yeah think of me first you idiot)
AND WE SEE EARLY RED LUMPLINGSSSSSSSSSSS
the babiessssssssssss
They must have been before Ppyong because I don't see him here. So hopefully we get to see when Ppyong arrived!!
So what Satan is doing right now is traveling with these three going to find what this beast is and if he can find his right hand devil in order to help him build his kingdom.
Coming of age story it seems...lol
Now this background made me be like oh....it's a pond literally full of rank ass blood.
Now i'm gonna gross ya'll out, but every time I see things like this I think of how period blood smells when it's been sitting on a pad for too long or in the trashcan with other bloody pads and it just smells really bad like tissue and blood because that's what it is....
But yeah I scrunched my nose because I'm like Hell is not the place for me and my nose I'd literally wish for sense of smell to vanish.
one of the red lumps throws up and well I don't blame him...lol
nice to know that he says that to basically everyone and everything even in his past lol
BUT it seems tomorrow we're going to see who it is he's calling out to, my guess is it's probably Sitri because well...the story IS about them meeting after all.
There we have it ya'll, day one through four! I think for the rest of the days I'm just going to do two days at a time for each post I make instead of waiting four days because phew this was lot of catching up and writing lol
I'm realllyyyy feelin' Satan's look here btw. I've mentioned that already but Imma do it again lol
But overall so far I think I'm learning a lot about Sitri in a way I'd like to know more about Bael or Foras tbh since they are the right hand devils. I know we had a Niflheim event that showed Beleth, but I want to know what it is he did to fall to Hell and what that scar around his neck is about. And for those who didn't get Beel's bathcard we do get some of Bael's lore in there but only a crumb.
But alas...possibly may or may not get this but we'll see...
ANYWAYS thanks for reading and see ya'll on the next react ^^
#whb#what in hell is bad#whb event#whb screenshots#whb satan#whb sitri#whb gehenna bois❤️#jazewhbreacts🖤
64 notes
·
View notes
Note
What I can't get my head around is, why didn't Dominus Ambus tell Rewind that he was secretly a turbofox? Like, that's your conjunx, presumably the person you trust most in the whole universe, and you won't even share your secret with him? IDK if you've already done an analysis post on this but if you haven't I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Okay, so. Putting aside any non-diagetic explanations entirely for a moment (that is, my suspicion that the concept was conceived of some way into the comic's run and just proved a really good way to explain Rewind not recognising the Pet once it was settled on)… in-universe explanations, let's go.
Something I do wanna point out here is a thing I rarely see mentioned: in my opinion, Minimus does not act as though Rewind doesn't know. I think he expects that Rewind does, which is honestly sort of wild? In DotL, Minimus isn't like 'oh shit, now you know I guess' when he's making remarks about Dominus being even more insecure about his height than Minimus is (irreducible style), or whatever. I… guess you could argue he thinks Rewind has inferred it logically (Minimus has revealed he was wearing an armour > Minimus and Dominus are spark twins > therefore…) but tbh, he's just. SO casual about it. I absolutely feel like Minimus assumed Dominus had told Rewind! Which. THEY WERE MARRIED LMAO. IT'S A REASONABLE… ASSUMPTION……..
Which definitely suggests there's no reason externally that is all that compelling for Dominus to not have done so. If there was, presumably Minimus would have anticipated it! Realistically, if Dominus couldn't trust Rewind to keep it secret for the sake of public access and ease, why the hell were they married. (Anyway, Rewind is in a far more precarious situation than Dominus is, when they meet; Rewind isn't able to hide and is formally subject to being classified as 'disposable'. I mean!) That's definitely not compelling.
Personally I think the easiest way to reconcile it is to think that Dominus had a personal hangup around his alt, and genuinely wanted people not to know this about him- because he himself was personally ashamed of it, no matter how much effort he put into public work that seems to contradict that. This actually reconciles something else, I think. Why would the sentience test Dominus seemingly designed in part or full be so biased against beastformers? He is one! What! But if that's something he was unable to get over the way he e.g. was able to overcome prejudice of the kind Rewind was facing, it perhaps makes sense to think of it as a kind of 'harder when it's personal' thing. Right? Internal feelings of self-loathing are sometimes paradoxically the more difficult kind to unlearn, compared to changing how you think about other people. Hell, maybe Dominus convinced himself wearing an armour 24/7 meant he wasn't one any more. Maybe he didn't tell Rewind because as far as he was concerned, that was no longer true.
I think this would potentially be interesting in terms of adding actual characterization to Dominus against which you can a) effectively compare and contrast Minimus (since a looot of what we know about Dominus is more or less 'he was made in a lab to induce an inferority complex in Minimus', lmao) and b) open up avenues to question the very idealized view Rewind has of their marriage that don't necessarily require leaning into the trope of 'he was an Evil Liar All Along on purpose!!!', which adds a lot of interesting stuff to that element of Rewind's arc that I'm sad canon never really managed to deliver completely, IMO.
I have actually thought about Dominus in relation to both Minimus and Rewind a LOOOOOT haha. He's such a cipher in the comic; a huge motivating character for two otherwise-unconnected leads AND a cornerstone of our introduction to the Functionist Universe… and yet a character we know very little about the thought processes or feelings of. He's like a void of a character you can reconstruct by looking at what surrounds him. It's very fun to me.
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
Alright. I've been talking about writing a meta about Charles and jealousy for a while, so here it is. It's a mess. I tried to make it more concise than it was, if you can believe that.
Be forewarned, below the cut we'll be diving into some canon compliant content like Charles' home life. Please, please, please note that now is the time to leave if you are not in a good space to read about those.
Okay. First I want to establish a few things before I get to analyzing the scenes, because I think it is important that we have empathy for Charles here. This might be a bit of a long preamble, but if you could stay with me I'd appreciate it. I promise I am going somewhere with all of this.
I think a lot of us have been told, perhaps by a parent or a friend, that jealousy is unbecoming or bad. Think about it. I know growing up that is a message I heard frequently even though I saw adults exhibit it. This was actually pretty confusing to try and work out. Anyway, now with this almost puritanical obsession with good pure and healthy relationships in media, it's gotten worse. We're told any human flaw we have is something we have to fix or we are not deserving of love. Yes, including jealousy.
Only if that's the case, Charles is fighting uphill here. Here's why:
For reference 41:30 -42:00 in episode 4 is the flashback that The Night Nurse shows Charles of his home. If we unpack this we can learn a lot of things, but there are two that I would like two draw your attention to today:
Charles' dad clearly isn't someone Charles could form a secure attachment to. He seems to only be acknowledging Charles when he's angry, and only acknowledging him in a very violent manner. He's also not really communicating with him, and expecting Charles to know what he's upset about I guess? Truly, this man is terrifying. He knows his family is afraid of him, and he knows they'll scramble to try and fix whatever his issue is.
Charles' mom doesn't intervene. Now, I do not want to hear any vile junk in my notes. She's a battered woman and has probably been in the same position that Charles has, considering Charles himself is worried about her once he is dead. He's worried enough that he checks in on her every week. It makes it all the more heartbreaking that Charles is the one who has taken it upon himself to try and "make it better" (although this is not uncommon among kids who grow up in abusive households, alarmingly).
It definitely drives home that there is a clear hierarchy in the home (everyone tries to please the most volatile person), and you're at the bottom of the pyramid. Even if it's just because you and everyone else in the household is too terrified to do anything about the most abusive person's behavior, you still feel the weight of never being put first. You will never be put first, because how could you be? "You never made it better than you died" (via The Night Nurse) holds a crushing amount of meaning here.
Alright. Now we have established that Charles had some messed up stuff happen at home. Let's take that a step further. Adverse childhood experiences can lead to a variety of attachment styles that are not secure and... you guessed it, jealousy can get thrown in the mix. (This link leads to an abstract of a very interesting research article. If you request the full test directly from the researcher they will provide it for free, but it takes time. The basic idea here is that if kids aren’t able to form secure attachments to their parents, then they will struggle to feel secure in their relationships as they grow up. Sometimes that can manifest as jealousy).
Still with me after all of that? You are god's strongest soldier, lmao. Now let's get into the good stuff.
Charles dies, but there in the attic he meets Edwin. Charles chooses Edwin over the blue light without a second thought. He comforted him when he was dying, and that tenderness is foreign for Charles. The choice is an easy one.
He enjoyed it, and he enjoys Edwin. Edwin, in turn, turns out to be is someone who unequivocally, continuously, puts Charles first. He also does something really important- Charles seeks reassurance, and Edwin gives it ("You ever think, what if Death did catch us? She'd force us to go to the afterlife and split up" Charles asks. "I will make sure that never happens" Edwin answers, all while they're hanging on the side of their office). This is one of the first things we learn about them in the pilot. Charles knows he can count on Edwin. This wasn't something he had from anyone in life.
So things go fine for Charles for a long while. Edwin hasn't given him any reason to feel insecure in all that time it seems. He’s done a great job making Charles feel safe. Charles even feels secure enough that it is his idea to try and integrate Crystal into the agency, although Edwin clearly hates it. Crystal isn’t a threat to his friendship with Edwin, so it would appear Charles still feels reasonably secure in their relationship at this point.
Charles even explains or excuses a lot of Edwin's reactions to try and smooth things over. He tries to mediate between them during their first plan to rescue Becky from Esther's house the best he can. He allows Edwin to have a leg of the case with just the two of them, but he tries to frame it as protecting Crystal.
But then it's Edwin's turn to shake up the foundation that their relationship is built on.
Edwin had a lot of issues to attend to this season, and he tried to deal with most of them alone. Most of the problems Edwin had to handle put definite distance between him and Charles- how couldn't they? He was being hit on, which was a very new experience for him. He probably didn't even know how to talk about that at first, as evidenced by his description of the CK speaking closely to his ear (oh sweet summer child). He also learned about his feelings for the first time, which Monty had to finish spelling out for him.
This all, however, is where we see a shift in the dynamic. It's significant.
Edwin uses magic on a cat and has to go and meet with the Cat King. Whoops. 🙃 Charles slides easily into his role as a protector, but… Edwin stops him.
Honestly, Edwin had a good reason to do this. He pointed out that cat scratches can cause serious harm to ghosts, and they were surrounded. As endearing as this was, this wouldn’t have been an easy fight. They can just talk this out, right? He gets whisked away for a few minutes to do that (and then winds up opening a bigger can of worms).
From Charles’ perspective though, Edwin doesn’t allow him to help him, and then vanishes for a long period of time. Then he absolutely won’t tell him anything about it when he does come back. Charles knew Edwin was a little mad at him in the pilot, but they were still communicating for the most part. The secrecy is a shift, and it’s not one he’s coping well with. He tries a few different ways to reconnect.
First he tries gentle. He just asks what happened from a place of concern. This might have worked actually, only I’m not even sure Edwin knows how to fully describe what happened during their encounter. He rushes through a description, and Charles still feels like something is missing. He doesn’t like that someone else has a secret with Edwin— for thirty years they’ve been connected. This feels frightening to him, and Edwin doesn’t seem particularly worried that they’re not on the same page.
He tries to pick the conversation back up later when they’re searching for the dandelion shrine, but Edwin doesn’t give any additional information. So he slides back into his role of being a protector again and defends him against the ambient skeletons, because at least he can protect him from that easily. For a moment, things almost seem normal again, but this resurfaces in a later case.
Edwin meets with CK again in episode 4. Charles is still raw after the events of the Devlin House, and now he’s just pissed. He’s hurting, and Edwin is still keeping this weird secret. They end up bickering back and forth. The bickering tells us something interesting about Charles’ concerns.
Charles: What did he want? He didn't whisk you away again? Got that bracelet off?
Edwin: I'd be back at the office right now if the bracelet was off. He wanted to know if I counted the cats, and my guess was unsatisfactory.
Charles: Thinks he can come and go... He can't show up in the middle of cases. Did you tell him that?
Edwin: Matter of fact, I did.
Charles: Can't believe you didn't tell us. I've had enough of secrets about that wankеr.
Edwin: Why are you getting so angry?
What stands out to me here is Charles is upset about a few things: he hates that Edwin is getting taken away from him by a being they can’t control (a logical fear, considering they’re running from death together). He hates that this is happening in the middle of case time that is supposed to be for him and Edwin (and their friends, who Charles trusts). He is still really upset that Edwin has a secret with someone else (I really don’t think he’d be bothered if the secret was with him).
That’s why he’s upset. Charles isn’t feeling secure. He doesn’t feel like their relationship is on good footing right now. Whether or not he knows how to phrase that or ask for support is a different question.
Onto Monty (sorry these are a bit out of order— I put them by character for this part).
Charles wasn’t aware of Monty. This probably already bothered him a little, considering the mystery surrounding the cat king, but he tried to be a good sport. Monty wasn’t outwardly threatening. He came with gifts. He seemed friendly. Charles tried to match that… only to get snubbed. Ouch.
Charles likes to claim he’s aces with other people, but he ultimately died because his friends turned on him and killed him the second he stood up for what was important to him. I think peer relationships are a particularly sticky situation for him. I think he knew how to fit in the same way he knew how not to rock the boat in a volatile home. With Edwin it was different though— Edwin just liked him. Edwin was special.
But of course yet another boy their age doesn’t like him (probably a little upsetting, considering how he died). The only thing that’s confusing to him here is he didn’t really do anything wrong— he was polite. He followed along with all the little niceties people do, even when they don’t want to. Maybe this wouldn’t have bothered him so much in another situation, but now Edwin is wrapped up with him instead of Charles. He's picked him instead (in Charles' mind).
He can’t even shake this when Monty isn’t there.
Charles tries to get Edwin's attention... and fails. so he begins to have a conversation with himself. Perhaps he was trying to make Edwin laugh. Perhaps he was trying something over the top. Still, he fails. Ultimately, he goes the broken record route and asks him the same question a couple of times.
This moment probably really hurt- there's actually no reason for Edwin to be ignoring him, in Charles' mind anyway. They're alone together. Usually they'd be talking or bantering or at least Charles would be able to get Edwin's attention. It's just that he can't, because now Edwin is stuck on that fucking book from that fucking bloke who blew him off earlier.
This was probably a little activating for Charles. Even if he didn't completely put together why it upset him, Edwin putting someone who just treated him poorly right in front of his face first is a dim reflection of what he went through in his home. Now, I am not saying Monty is anywhere near that level of bad- he's a literal cream puff. He could not kill them when his life depended on it.
What I am saying, though, that Charles perceives a subtle threat here. He's also not sure what to do with it, because he never overcame that hurtle in life. No one else ever put him first, and he never figured out how to fix that. Edwin kind of just centered Charles automatically when they met. Now he's not doing that anymore and it’s jarring and uncomfortable for him. He’s feeling this loss of stability, on top of the fact that Edwin still won’t tell him what’s going on with the CK.
"...try not to forget that we're trying to leave" is what Charles comes up with after that exchange. Edwin makes an attempt to console him finally and offers to talk, but Charles shuts it down and tells him it's that he wants to leave town. They start on a case after that.
(Note that I did this a little out of order for organization’s sake— some of their CK arguing happened during the case they went on next).
Charles does finally catch a break here. In spite of all of this, he’s missing something very important: Edwin has feelings for him. That’s probably the most pressing issue that’s gone unspoken between them.
So Edwin dresses nicely, catches Charles attention, and finally tries to initiate a conversation. Charles seems relieved.
He does assume Edwin is just trying to come out by telling him about his time with Monty, before the teethface incident. Charles isn’t bothered, since Monty isn’t really in the picture anymore as far as he’s concerned. Things are fine, it’s just the two of them again and Edwin likes boys. Wait…
... Fuck. Forgot about the Cat King.
He resorts to threatening the CK. I know lots of people have lots of different theories on this, but consider this perspective also: Monty is no longer a threat. He’s abstract. He’s a memory. The Cat King is still very real and is a thing that can come between them, has done so, and has successfully taken Edwin from him. And as accepting as Charles was trying to be in that moment, he just can't handle that (from the perspective of this meta).
Anyway, this is all interrupted by their foray into hell. Charles does rescue Edwin, Edwin confesses, and honestly I feel like that just needs to be a different thing entirely but I did type a little bit about how I think Charles interpreted all of that here.
They return. Charles is processing Edwin's confession on the roof. This whole scene mystifies me a little because yes, he didn't seem to know exactly what to say to Edwin's confession in hell (I think he did not want to ruin it by saying the wrong thing). The more rewatches I go through the more... satisfied he looks to me? He might be processing, but also he might be a little giddy that Edwin has feelings for him specifically. I'm still trying to figure out how to read this one because the lines seemed rushed but the microexpressions say so much.
Then he starts blatantly flirting with Edwin. Honestly Charles, what the fuck?(afffectionate) Truly I’m still trying to work out if he’s just testing out how Edwin reacts or if he is working through his own feelings here, but I really want more of this in S2.
That’s about all the thoughts I think I can organize on this for now without it getting obscenely long (it already is pretty long for a half baked idea that turned into a meta). Thank you for reading 🖤
#Charles Rowland#meta#dead boy detectives#cw domestic violence#canon event Charles' home life#payneland#meta is slanted that way#I can no longer think of how to revise this so here it is#Jealous Charles Rowland#My posts#Fixed some small typos because some of this was done at 3 am whoops
99 notes
·
View notes
Text
AND WE'RE BACK. My cancerous thyroid might have briefly cucked me, but now I'm about to cuck every goddamn semi-incestuous couple in this house. Isn't that right, Baby?
-CAWK CAWK
Exactly! Baby here is a parrot that Meadow rolled the want for and I was like sure, what problems could a parrot possibly cause?
-OPEN THIS DOOR. SOMEONE OPEN THIS DOOR FOR ME. OPEN IT RIGHT NOW OPEN IT OPEN IT
Um it should open automatically for you wtf?
-OPEN THE DOOR, MAMMAL TRASH, THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING
Ok Baby seriously why won't the doors open for you?
-I DON'T KNOW BUT I WILL STAY HERE AND PREVENT EVERYONE FROM GOING TO CLASS BECAUSE THEY'RE TOO STUPID TO USE THE OTHER DOOR
Alright then, clearly there's only one solution to this..
Perfection.
-Um, what happened to the door?
-IT ASKED TOO MANY STUPID QUESTIONS. OUT OF THE WAY, HUMMIE SCUM
Well, Baby was clearly a much needed addition to this house. Now, to the main event: an end to the Year of Sin!
NOP, NEVERMIND, SPOKE TOO SOON, MUST DO THIS INSTEAD. We invite Good Witch over for Spice and she asks to bring a friend and it's FUCKING MALCOLM. LMAO. I simply have to, I can't resist-
-Well well well, if it isn't the famous Malcolm Landgraab IV, the finest intergenerational concubine the world has ever seen!
-Huh?
-You were too much of a straggot to date my father, but I know you won't be able to resist the charms of the much better looking son!
-What?
-God, the conversation is just crackling with sexual tension!
-So, Malc, I believe we should make out. Thoughts?
-Where are those fucking butterflies coming from?
-Your stomach? ;)
No, they're from the Good Witch, my bad y'all.
After many, MANY hours of talking, Malcolm finally accepts a lame wolf whistle-
-but our efforts are interrupted by Felina returning from class. WILL YOU GIVE IT A FUCKING REST FOR ONE DAY
-NEVER
-Sorry kid, but if Malcolm Landgraab is to ever consider bisexuality, it will be for someone who can beat up his own sister.
Wtf kinda rule is that you freak?? You know what, just gtfo-
-NO. Stay here, Malcolm, I'd like to hear stories about you and great-great grandma Victoria!
-Oh wow, now that was a real woman. She could hold her liquor, she could whore around, she could beat up anyone.. No man could ask for anyone more feminine!
You are so right, Malcolm, the only one to ever do it better was Long John Silver!
Ok seriously Barth is there a plan here, why are we wasting valuable time on platonic interactions with this loser?
-I just have a feeling true love will prevail!
What are you even talking about-
UM PWND @ ME WTF. ACR DOES IT AGAIN WITH LITERAL NEGATIVE CHEMISTRY LOL
OH FUCK YES TWO BIRDS WITH ONE STONE. Two Babies with one stone if you will!
-HOW DARE YOU CHEAT ON ME, YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD
Ya ok GROSS but finally we can put this behind us, 1 down, 200 more to go. Cyan go back to your other cousin-lover while you still can because I'm breaking you up too!
-Don't have to tell me twice!
Ugh.
-Hmmm...
What now, Barth.
-Nothing, I just keep forgetting I actually have two eyes.
Ya, you and me both.
-But now that I possess peripheral vision, I see there's so much to be done in this house.
You have set yourself on fire multiple times, please stop with the household tasks, that's why we have a butler.
-But he never actually does anything!
Yes well, his main job is to answer the door and we no longer have one, but it's still money well spent.
-WELL I WILL FIX THE DISHWASHER OR DIE TRYING
-BARTH NO I STILL LOVE YOU
-FUCK YOU SUNSET, YOU BROKE MY HEART BY SLEEPING WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND. HE'S NOT EVEN RELATED TO YOU
Barth no offense but I think I'm ready for your next electrocution to take you out.
-As am I!
-And I!
-GETTING SLAPPED MULTIPLE TIMES A DAY IS STARTING TO AFFECT MY MENTAL HEALTH HOW DO I MAKE IT STOP
You could stop being Satan incarnate?
-No, there has to be a better way!
-How about I sleep with the boyfriend of the only cousin in this house who doesn't already hate me?
Yes, absolutely, and please take another crack at fixing the dishwasher when you're done.
89 notes
·
View notes
Note
Just saw your latest take on Keigo/Hawks and normalcy and it sounded legit ngl- probably one of the realest take on a character I've seen in a while so I wanted to ask something regarding the same character again.
How would Keigo/Hawks be with a quirkless s/o? (i have a s/i story and have some ideas to work with- but wanted to hear someone else's thoughts on it too)
I didn't want to go too fanon and just say yes - I know it's kind of shitty to think he'd never have that but I wanted to be honest about it. TT but, I'm glad you liked it, I really appreciate that.
I can't even do a tldr here lmao so. this one is actually shorter than the rest, for the simple fact i don't think there would be TOO much of a difference.
Okay, so - a point that was made in my last one can also stand here: he's going to find himself struggling to balancing his life with someone who has no quirk. It might sound silly to those not analyzing a character down to it's atoms but having a quirkless s/o means they can't go out on missions with him, which equals less time with them if he's busy. It's definitely not something he sees as a bad thing, just means when he gets back, his s/o is going to get a lot more attention.
Hawks would already be protective of his s/o and even more so if they have no quirk. He doesn't think they're helpless or anything but he feels like it's his duty to make sure they're safe.
In a society that values quirks on such a high level, he knows they may face challenges and whatnot that he thinks kind of sucks but he's going to support them in whatever they're doing. He would want to shield them from any type of prejudice they may face. Depending on his s/o, this could absolutely lead to a few arguments.
But, I feel like there wouldn't be much of a difference in how he treated his s/o. He'd still be the loving, protective loser he is. And if it came down to them being upset about it, he'd be more than happy to make sure his s/o knew they were loved, capable, and valued whether they had a quirk or not.
If they didn't have a quirk.. would he show them off? Most people write Hawks with a personality that screams over confident and egotistic, so I think most people would say he would - but, from my pov and thought process, I think he'd keep them as far from the public eye as possible. He would never be ashamed of someone he loved but he'd feel like letting the world know them and their rs would just put them in danger? Or, maybe I am overthinking this detail.
Now, there is one thing I've always been conflicted about when it comes to Hawks and his s/o and it's something I'm kind of hoping to get some other opinions on?
If his s/o had a quirk and was known, I feel like it would be impossible to keep their rs private.
I can say one thing without hesitancy: one of his feathers would be with his s/o at all times.
( + 👉👈 anon, if you feel like, idk, messaging me and telling me more about this story, i'd be happy to talk and learn about your pov of everything. )
#mha#mha x reader#mha scenarios#hawks#hawks x reader#hawks scenarios#keigo#keigo takami x reader#keigo takami#bnha
87 notes
·
View notes