#usually i used to be the change i wanted to see in the world but i want my muses to be romanced for a change u know
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You've changed, man. I don't know what it is but some time in the past six months your shitposting got a bitter edge to it. Sure you could blame the political climate or world events on it but...I dunno. I used to scroll your blog to momentarily escape the hardships of today but now it feels like even you're not a safe place any more. I wish you luck on your journeys onwards but I'm sorry to say I cannot travel with you any more. Be well, puki, and I hope whatever troubles you passes.
Escapism is important and I try to offer that to a degree, but ultimately, I am a person. I experience hardships, I empathize with the worsening conditions of my world. As long as I care about things external to myself, I will subtlety, or blatantly express them in some way in my blog, which I’ve done for years, not merely 6 months.
Unbeknownst to you, these concerns are often the inspiration for some of my most beloved posts.
You’re free to leave of course, if my 1 serious post out of every 30 fucks your day up that badly, then please, feel free! - I simply don’t see my blog as escapist fluff, it never has been, even if that is often the outcome. My page has always been about my interests, and I just so happen to enjoy making people laugh.
I see it more as a fun place to hang out and express the feelings I feel inclined to express, most of which are fun and goofy, some of which are not. I love our little playful back-and-forths, and I enjoy seeing your insights, even if some of you are fucking stupid as shit. Sometimes I just like using you guys as little guinea pigs, testing my odd expressions out on you, and sitting back and seeing the outcome.
Ultimately, I try to balance balance 3 things on my page:
Comedy, as you know - I like making jokes, I like testing them out on people. Even if they suck, I like writing them regardless. Sometimes I sit back after writing something I know objectively sucks, hit send, and watch as everyone tells me how much it sucks. It brings me joy.
A desire for money - because if not, I wouldn't be able to make posts half as often as I do (ie, shirt sales, promoting my music, etc) - Sometimes that anxiety for money also bleeds into my posts, it has for years; and I hold back from being even more desperate about money than I feel I should be sometimes.
And the point you brought up: The occasional comment on something real that matters to me. - Over the past 3 years, if not longer, I’ve made a few uncharacteristically-serious statements on things like Covid, Gaza, The Presidency, hell, even the indigenous people of Australia... and more.
Why do I feel inclined to discuss these things? Because I want to. My page has always been about what I want. Fortunately for you, what I usually want to do is to make you laugh! But sometimes I wish to express other feelings, because I have a platform that allows my voice to travel further than that of others!
For those angry at all the qualms I don't bring up, try to understand my balancing act, as someone who understands your desire for escapism, and the comfort that it brings you. If the veil falls, remember, we are of like-company - - and maybe, this veil was only ever in your head to begin with.
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Through your colours
Author: bvidzsoo
Pairing: artist!Kim Hongjoong x barista!reader
੭ Warning: recreational drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, swearing ੭ Word count: 11k ੭ Rating: nc-17 ੭ Genre: fluff, angst-ish, slice of life, strangers to lovers, a hint of simp Joong? post university setting ੭ Summary: A broke barista and a broke artist meet in a student infested dingy pub, what do they have in common? The desire to make something great of themselves, to live a fulfilled life. But first impressions can go wrong, deterring people from each other. You're probably lucky that's not how your story with Hongjoong goes, though.
A/N: Hello, hello, my lovelies! I present you another story that was supposed to be a drabble but instead turned into...a smaller oneshot?? I consider anything that's below 15k a drabble because my oneshots just go over 20k all the time, save me! This idea came on a random whim while my pinterest suggested three photos lol, and it took me some time to write it, but it's here at last. Your feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you thought of this little story, and I hope you enjoy it! divider
Gustav Klimt had once, sometime during the nineteenth century, stated that, “Art is a line around your thoughts”. This could be interpreted many ways, of course, but for an artist it was just as plain and simple as Mr Klimt had said. Whatever was on your mind, you could give it life by putting it on a piece of paper by the brush of ink and feather against the parchment, or by the swift twist of one’s wrist as their brush coloured their canvas. Art comes in many forms, many thoughts, and many interpretations. After all, everyone relates to it based by their own experiences, based on the emotions they feel and have felt before…and overall, their capacity of seeing beyond what’s shoved in front of their eyes. Maybe that’s why Hongjoong would stare at a painting or picture for hours on end without growing tired. He liked to see everything, he wanted to understand every stroke of brush, or why the lightning fell in that specific way on the item in the picture. Hongjoong wanted to feel the same emotions the author of the creation had felt while creating their piece. It helped him draw inspiration, expand his horizons towards new possibilities. Hongjoong liked new challenges as long as they were about his art. In life, he preferred the steady and sure lifestyle, the one that was predictable enough that it wouldn’t send him into an existential crisis over the smallest inconvenience.
Hongjoong needed order in his life since his art was all over the place, judged by many and often misunderstood. He didn’t paint just for the fun of it, sure, there were passion projects he started on a whim without much of a goal in mind, and usually those were well received by his professors, by his colleagues. But whenever Hongjoong wanted to say something through his art, he’d get scrutinized for it. He yet had to find that one person that saw beyond what others called a mess. He’s never thrived for attention or validation, but it had gotten lonely after a while when he realised nobody really understood him. He felt like he was the odd one even in a crowd full of odd people. He’d always been different, more open-minded and receptive to the changes in the world, and he’d always been judged for it. Here, instead of being frowned upon due to his character, he was sometimes ignored because his art was either dull or not good enough. Nobody seemed to understand that art is relative and subjective, that whatever lay on the canvas made by Hongjoong was his and would always be. That he had dipped his brush into a touch of colour from his soul, displaying it for the world to see on the once blank canvas. He became vulnerable for them and yet nobody had appreciated it yet. And so, Hongjoong got used to not being seen for his art, but for who he was.
Quirky with questionable fashion taste to many, bold because he wasn’t afraid to try out new styles—much like with his paintings—and intimidating because no matter how many times he tried out something new, he’d instantly make it his, owning whatever concept he had in mind. Hongjoong knew not everyone was against him out there, but it was easy to fall hostage to such thoughts when he was alone. It would make sense for an artist to have a mind clouded by questions and rarely answers, a mind that worked too fast and yet never good enough. Doubts and fears pulling one down, Hongjoong loved expressing it through his paintings, his hand nothing but a guide to the brush clutched tightly between his fingers, calling out to him even when he chose to step away. Hongjoong was in it for life, and he wondered whether the weeping willow tree by the river bank in his framed painting was a premonition for how his life would look like.
The bar was busy like every other night in this student-infested town. It wasn’t even a surprise anymore, you should have known better than to wear your boots with high heels. There were no seconds to waste and even less time for breaks between preparing drinks, cleaning the bar, and running around the room to clean the tables too. Nobody wanted their hands sticky because someone had previously spilt their drink, and you were more than ready to clock out for the night. The only problem was, however, that you still had three hours left of your shift. You sighed as you averted your eyes from the clock, realising you hadn’t started preparing the drink the drunk college student had asked for on the other side of the bar. His eyes were glossy and he was swaying in his spot, you debated filling his cup with water rather than Vodka, but you couldn’t risk getting a complaint since your boss was a stinky little fucker. Your hands worked fast, and years spent doing this kind of work were showing as you did a few tricks, hoping you’d get a nice tip. You doubted the college guy would leave a huge tip, if anything at all, but at least you tried. It was all about trying in places like this one. Trying to stay calm when a customer was rude, trying to remain sane when night after night the DJ played the same playlist for the drunken students, trying to smile and hide the fact that you hated when these frat boys flirted with you. And also try and hide the fact that you were fed up with people, and needed at least a month away from civilisation.
But if one wanted to achieve something in life, one had to work for it to happen since it wouldn’t fall from the sky. Going abroad and starting a new life over there wasn’t for free, and it especially wouldn’t happen overnight. You were well aware of that, that’s why you were working day and night, taking up shifts that were probably too long to be healthy. But the dream you had in mind demanded such sacrifices, and if it meant working hard right now for a comfortable life in the future, you were willing to spend your nights sleepless and surrounded by annoying college students. You had been like them once, after all, but that was a few years ago, and since then, the harsh reality has awoken you. What was the purpose of a degree you couldn’t do anything with? Yeah, you could’ve laughed at yourself, but then it would soon turn into hysterical crying and you weren’t strong enough to deal with such emotions. You’ve cried enough, it was time you took action now. You sighed as another rush of bodies crowded the bar, asking for shots and long cocktails. You weren’t a fancy place by any means, but you served the usual sweet cocktails that could be found in every other place. Your hands worked fast as you catered to everyone’s likes, your coworker, Hanni, was somewhere lost between the students as she had gone to clean up the tables. And even in your rush, it seemed like you couldn’t satisfy everyone. It shouldn’t have phased you, but you’ve had a rough day today.
“Hey, babe, think you could work those hands faster, maybe?” You ignored the question and smiled as a group of girls paid for their pink cocktails, leaving a bigger tip than most men would. You felt grateful and felt your smile turn genuine when the tallest in the group winked at you before they became part of the rowdy crowd again. Then, you could face your impatient customer. He didn’t look like a student, way too old to be in a crowd filled with students, but who were you to judge? Some people go to college at a later age, maybe he wanted to get the full student experience. Although, you doubted a thirty-year-old had anything in common with young adults on the brink of maturing, if they managed to mature during their upper-level study days.
“What can I get for you?” Your voice was raised since the music was booming, and unfortunately, you also had to lean over the counter to hear the man better. For some reason, that made the man smirk as he leaned forward as well, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat. You ignored it as your teeth ground together, you’ve seen men like him before, he wasn’t the first to act like this and you knew he wouldn’t be the last one either.
“How about…you, sugar?” Your expression didn’t budge as his smirk became shit eating as if he had accomplished anything by saying that. You waited, without blinking or reacting to what he’s said, hoping he’d catch on that he wasn’t hilarious nor flirty.
“Don’t we all wish to have a piece of the pretty barista?” That managed to throw you off as your head whipped to the side, eyebrows furrowing as you just now noticed the newcomer. He was…well, something else for sure. He wore no casual or ordinary clothes, nothing you could compare to the annoying frat boys or just the other dudes with a regular fashion sense. His hair was dark but it looked a little fried, as if it had been bleached already one too many times before. His white blouse was loose and tucked in at the waist, his black pants wide and reaching below his ankles. A thick belt was secured around the guy’s petit waist, and if you looked harder, you swore you could see a dark blue bow tied to it. His brown vest seemed to elevate the outfit even more, the pleated brown choker sitting at the base of his throat with a few other silver chains, a ruby pendant hitting his pecks as he was leaning against the counter lazily. His hip was jutted out and his painted nails tapped against the side of his head, cat-like eyes blinking slowly as he watched you. The hat he wore looked something like you’ve only seen in Peaky Blinders, and for a second, you almost chuckled. He looked peculiar but not in a negative sense, it’s just that you haven’t seen someone like him stumble inside the pub before. He didn’t seem to belong with the crowd and that would’ve been something you’d appreciate on any other day than today.
“I don’t think we were talking to you, no?” The cocky man in front of you raised a mocking eyebrow at the other guy, and you rolled your eyes for a second. But before you could answer, the other guy did for you.
“You threatened my game is better than yours?” The artsy-looking guy asked with a chuckle, his tone was more on the higher side, and you found yourself not irked by it too much. But you weren’t here to have men measure their cocks by who can get the barista’s phone number faster, so you interrupted them before they could piss you off even more.
“Listen, fellas, I don’t have all night. What do you want?” Your tone was sharp, straight to the point, and shut down all attempts at flirting as the man in front of you scoffed, shooting a dirty look at the peculiar-looking one. You tilted your head as the older man finally faced you, trying to downplay his irritation as he plastered on a charming smile again. It made your jaw tick again, but you said nothing more.
“Do you have whiskey?” You were already reaching for the bottle of Whiskey before the man was finished talking, your other hand grabbing a glass as Hanni finally returned to the bar, her tray filled with dirty glasses.
“I’ll just wash these and come help.” She said as she passed by you and you nodded, filling the man’s glass with ice and whiskey, not too much but not too little either. Who even drinks Whiskey in a place like this one? But you didn’t care as long as he’d be out of your hair, so you placed the glass on the counter, but before you could tell the guy how much it was, he had already slid a bill on the counter, sauntering away. You grabbed it and pushed it into your fanny pack, taking a step back to take a deep breath. You could do this, Hanni was back and maybe you could ask her to cover for you for five minutes. A bathroom break was allowed at any time, after all. Your small moment, however, was interrupted by a scoff. You blinked your eyes open and looked towards where the sound came from, eyes narrowing when you realised the other guy was still lingering around.
“What a pig, he didn’t even tip you.” You had to agree with his slurred words but instead walked over with an impassive expression. You weren’t here to be nice or to make friends, and you never failed to make it clear to your customers. These entitled dudes thought they could get your number and get in your pants with just a few—fake—nice words, you could confidently say you hated them all and that they made you wish you never again encountered their species. But alas, that wouldn’t happen tonight, so you headed over to the pompous guy, raising an eyebrow. He was intriguing, you couldn’t deny that, but you also knew not to mingle with guys who frequented the pub. So, even if one sparked your interest, at the end of the day, you’d still walk home alone and relish in the quiet of your room.
“What can I get for you?” You tried to keep your tone level as your hip pressed into the counter, feet aching now even more. You were ready to chuck your damn boots at the wall and call it a night, but as Hanni flashed you her typical sweet smile, you knew you couldn’t leave her alone in the wolf's den. She was too sweet and too naïve, smiling and laughing along to the shitty jokes of the frat boys who were eyeing her up with little regard for the fact that she was visibly uncomfortable.
“Something sweet like you.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, telling yourself to keep your cool. He wasn’t saying anything offensive, unlike many other men, he just kept calling you sweet and pretty. That could be considered even nice, but not tonight.
“The menu is literally behind me, you can choose anything from it.” You pointed a finger behind yourself, where you knew the menu was hung high on the wall so that everyone could see it. The peculiar guy just gave you a look of confusion before looking past you, blinking his eyes lazily once again. You tapped your fingers against the counter, waiting for his choice, glad that you could take a breather now that nobody was crowding to get their drinks refilled. Hanni whizzed past you when she noticed a smaller group of girls approaching, her smile reaching her ears and already talking to them, beckoning them closer. Hanni was an excellent barista, she kept her customers entertained and always engaged with them…unlike you, but that’s why your duo worked so well. You were the stoic one and she was the sunshine, but you were both quick on your feet so your boss couldn’t complain.
“Uh, I’ll take a Cosmopolitan.” The guy finally decided and you quirked an eyebrow, grabbing the shaker.
“That’s not sweet.” It was unlike you to make conversation, but the words were on the tip of your tongue so you couldn’t ignore them. The guy chuckled, letting his elbows rest on the counter as he placed his chin in his palms. Your eyes raised for a second to look at him, and you were taken aback by how cute he looked. But as he blinked slowly again, a small smile spreading onto his lips as he watched you, you quickly focused your attention on his Cosmo.
“I know, I was just trying to make you feel better.” He sighed, tracing a manicured finger against the dirty counter. You had to clean that too. As you grabbed some olive to stash on a toothpick, you followed his finger with your eyes and noticed the two silver and shiny rings on his finger, his nail done a neon yellow with a black smiley face painted on top of it.
“What do you even know…” You scoffed to yourself, placing the martini glass on the counter for the guy to take. He was still looking at you, his eyes hazy, and you allowed yourself to take in his features. He had a petite and sharp nose, pretty and well-fitting with his sharp jawline and otherwise intimidating eyes if it wasn’t for the smile in them. His lips were more plump than thin with a pretty Cupid’s bow, slightly pouty as he gave you a small frown.
“Well, I bet you don’t plan on wasting your life away here.” The way he spoke had an airy feel to it, as if he wasn’t really thinking before speaking, “And by the looks of it, it seems as if your degree didn’t take you too far as of now, which is not a big deal, people change their minds all the time.”
Your eyebrows furrowed as the guy reached for his Cosmo, your fingers brushing together since you hadn’t retracted your hand yet. You ignored how warm his fingers felt, the softness of them as they lightly brushed against yours, “It’s just sad to see talented people waste their lives away in places like this one, you know? I mean, we all go to college to make something of ourselves, but then we end up in a dimly lit and smelly bar, selling alcohol to entitled pricks, forced to listen to their attempts at flirting, or them berating us for ‘not’ doing our job. Sure, it’s honest work, but at the end of the day, when you walk home after an ungodly long shift, you still hate yourself, so…”
Something in you broke at his last sentence, making you gulp hard. You still hate yourself, the guy had said with the most easy-going expression on his face, a slight smile pulling at his lips as he continued to blink lazily at you. What did he even know when he was clearly wearing designer clothes to a pub where alcohol could be spilt on you, among many other things? Who was he to assume you couldn’t do anything with your degree, rubbing it in your face that he knew people ended up like this when he clearly came from a rich background with all those accessories on him, his tone airy and almost mocking. Your jaw clenched again as you realised you had tears in your eyes, and your hand came down harshly on the counter as the guy slipped a bill towards you, way over the price of his damn Cosmopolitan.
“Go fuck yourself.” You snapped as you threw the change back at him, watching his expression fall, his eyebrows raising comically high. You didn’t sit around to listen to him trying to get your attention again, you brushed past Hanni and leaned down to tell her that you needed five minutes. She gave you a worried look before nodding, letting you head to the bathroom as a few tears spilt down your cheeks. Today was complete shit, you couldn’t wait to get home and ignore all the responsibilities and problems you had. You were doing this for a better future, this was just a small fragment of your life, and it wouldn’t last forever. At least you really hoped so.
You released a long sigh as the cool air hit your face, eyes stinging from the sudden coldness as the red backdoor slammed shut behind you. Hanni and you kept telling your boss to change the hinges, but he had more important things to take care of, of course. Stepping aside so that the door wouldn’t slam into your back if any staff member decided to come outside at this moment, you leaned against the cold wall, pushing your hands into your pockets. You didn’t bother grabbing your jacket, although you should have given the fact that your skin was now covered in goosebumps, teeth slightly chattering. It was always a whiplash coming outside from that parched pub, having to forcefully push through the bodies too busy to notice your approaching form. It was another busy night, the weekend was approaching so the students were coming in waves that the pub could barely house. You’ve been telling your boss that you should put a capacity limit, but he wouldn’t make as much money like that as he was making now, so of course, he said no. He was a greedy monster and he didn’t even try to hide it.
Just as you closed your eyes, you heard a loud tsk followed by a hiss, and your head jerked to the side, your eyes widening. You hadn’t realised there was someone else here with you, too taken by your own thoughts of wondering what you’d cook for dinner…if you make it home at a decent hour, which was looking less and less likely to be. With your eyes narrowed and head turned, you tried to find the source where the sound had come from, eyebrows furrowing when you noticed someone crouched down right by the door, their head lowered over their knees. It wasn’t your business what anyone was doing, really, but if a client was feeling unwell and would need assistance, you’d feel guilty if you just walked away without a word. So, sighing to yourself, you pushed off the wall and took a few steps to approach the person, eyes taking in the black messy curls on the top of his head. The person had a baby mullet growing out, framing his pale nape. You cleared your throat and reached down, gently poking at the guy’s shoulder.
“Hey, you good?” You asked unsure, eyebrows furrowing when the guy grunted only. Tilting your head, you realised he was shielding his left hand, his right thumb trying to roll the sparkwheel of his lighter, but to no avail.
“Yeah, this bloody thing won’t work.” The guy groaned, shaking his lighter as he tilted his head back, a hand-rolled cigarette hanging between his lips. Your eyes widened as you realised the face was familiar, having seen him just yesterday. The guy’s eyes looked innocent as they rounded, recognition flashing in his too. You gulped and straightened up, your expression slightly hardening as the guy’s harsh words from yesterday rang through your ears. He seemed pretty fine to you, but before you could step aside and go back inside, he spoke up.
“Hi there, pretty barista.” He then grinned, a lazy pull of his cherry-red lips, his tone easy. You didn’t expect him to be so easy-going after what you had said to him, but it almost looked like the guy wasn’t bothered by you cursing him out…maybe he really wasn’t, “You on a break?”
You crossed your arms in front of your chest, watching as he struggled to get his lighter to work. You had one in your pocket, but you found a bit of satisfaction in watching him struggle. Maybe if he asked whether you had one, you’d let him use yours. But people who didn’t ask wouldn’t get help, that’s what your father taught you, at least.
“Obviously.” You muttered matter of fact as the guy hummed, grinning wickedly when the lighter finally sparked to life, allowing him to light his cigarette. You watched as the flame danced in front of his face, making his dark eyes appear amber-like, sharper from this angle. You realised, alarmed, that you were appreciating his looks so you quickly stopped, looking away as the guy puffed out a whiff of smoke.
“You want some?” The guy asked, reaching his hand toward you as you eyed the cigarette, its smell hitting you. It was too herbal to be a normal cigarette, you belatedly realised as you watched the guy take another hit of his joint.
“What’s in it?” You decided to ask, just to make sure. If you were wrong and it was a regular cigarette, maybe you’d accept a smoke. You didn’t usually smoke but you were still tired from yesterday’s shift, and something that could loosen your nerves would be highly appreciated.
“Good stuff.” The guy grinned, giggling even a little, and the sound almost put a smile on your lips, but you caught yourself in time and instead shook your head, pushing your hands into your pockets again.
“I’m working, so, no.” The guy just hummed as he looked up at you again, taking a drag of his joint as you gulped and everted your eyes. It felt like he was gazing right through you and into your soul as your eyes had met, and given the fact that you were still butt-hurt over what he had said to you yesterday, you refused to look at him too long…you’d only admire his beauty, either way. He wore a fuzzy yellow and pink sweater today, his brown dress pants looking way too thin for this weather, but the guy didn’t seem to mind. His nails stood out with their unique design, and he wore fewer rings today but more earrings than yesterday.
“Hey, yesterday…what I said at the bar, I didn’t mean to berate you.” The guy gulped, his eyebrows furrowing as you looked back at him, slightly taken aback to see such sincerity on his face. You’ve never met someone so easily readable before, “My intention wasn’t to hurt you, I was smoked out too so I was just running my mouth, I do that when I’m high, sorry…”
A beat of silence passed as the two of you shared an apprehensive look, making you bite your bottom lip. You cleared your throat and at last averted your eyes, kicking a few pebbles towards the guy without meaning to, “Right, I shouldn’t have cursed you out either…I’m sorry too, I guess.”
The guy hummed, a smile slowly appearing on his lips before he took another drag of his cigarette, his eyes boring into yours again, “I’m glad the pretty barista doesn’t hate my guts anymore.”
You have no idea what took over you, but your cheeks were suddenly flushing as if you had been noticed by your crush for the first time, your skin prickling. You weren’t one to care about the compliments your clients gave since most of them were only trying to get in your pants, but this guy seemed to be genuine. He didn’t try to hit on you, he was just calling you pretty, and it was getting to you. You hummed and turned towards the door, hand reaching out for the knob when suddenly the guy spoke again, “Humans are easily susceptible, you know? We judge without knowing first, and we rarely apologise and recognise our mistakes. I hate people like that, rude people for no reason too. I don’t stand for all that bullshit, so I’m glad you told me to fuck myself instead of smiling at me like you do with all the other assholes. I appreciate your hard work, we all have to make due somehow and you aren’t less for working in this pub, pretty barista.”
There he was again, making your chest feel heavy as you huffed, a sarcastic smile pulling at your lips. Once again, what did he know about you? Maybe you loved this damned job, maybe being a barista in a shitty pub has been your lifelong dream. You almost scoffed at yourself, eyes narrowing as the guy took more drags of his joint, seemingly waiting for an answer that you didn’t exactly want to give. But you didn’t want him to have the last word, much like yesterday, so you plastered on a sarcastic smirk, “There you go again, blabbering your mouth when you’re smoked out.”
You didn’t expect the guy to start laughing loudly, his head falling back as it landed against the wall, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You didn’t mean to gape, but he was beautiful and painfully honest, it was refreshing in a world full of fakeness. He was an intriguing person, and you would’ve allowed yourself to become interested in him if only you had met in a different setting. With a hum and lingering eyes, you pushed the door open as the guy nodded at you in goodbye once he realised you were leaving for good. And with a faster beating heart, you willed yourself to focus on the few hours that you still had of your shift.
It’s been quite a while since you had the chance to wake up at the crack of dawn without feeling tired, or without having to rush in for an early shift. Through hard work, you had earned these two days of break, and while you wished you had been given a full week, you made sure to utilise these two days wisely. You had always been an early bird, wishing to wake with the sun, opening your windows to hear the song of the birds, but it was too cold for them to hunker down in front of your window today. You didn’t mind, you’d take a stroll after your breakfast and check out the new art store that’s opened not too far from your apartment. You’ve heard great things about it, the prices seemed to be reasonable, and it had an adjoint bookstore and a coffee shop as well. A quick check on the internet showed you just how cozy it was, so you thought you could buy a book from your to read list and settle down in the coffee shop. It sounded like a great plan to destress and forget for a bit about work and all the idiots that kept you up at night, quite literally.
Your scarf was thick as you buried your nose into it, trying to keep it warm from the cold chill of the early morning. The city was awake with you, orange sun rising on the horizon and blinding you as you were walking towards it, you couldn’t help but smile. It warmed your cheeks and body, feeling the sun on your skin during cold season always felt like a blessing, you would always relish in it as much as you could because you knew it wouldn’t last for long. You exhaled as your eyes remained squinted, watching the people around you as you walked towards your destination. Kids were rushing to school, parents by their sides guiding them, and traffic was as crazy as ever, impatient drivers honking and disturbing the little peace everyone had. You paid it no mind and felt thankful that you were able to wake up so early instead of just going to bed, all tired and wishing for your boss to fire you. But if he did fire you, you would be in trouble, so you didn’t actually wish for that to happen. And suddenly as you turned the corner, the guy’s words from the bar managed to ring through your ears once again. Working at the pub was just as much of an honest job as it would’ve been working anywhere else.
You sighed, realising you were thinking about him again. You’ve been doing this a lot lately, letting your mind wander to his peculiar fashion sense and even more peculiar way of thinking. He seemed almost raw with his words and thoughts, unafraid to say them to your face. It was refreshing and intriguing, but you couldn’t let yourself be sidetracked right now. You had a purpose, and that was working until you had enough money to move away. If somehow a guy came into the picture right now, you felt like that would mess up all your plans and vision of the future. Under no circumstance would you stay here, but you knew your heart would betray you and try to keep you here for longer, with your lover. You didn’t even want to think of the guy as a potential love interest, you didn’t even know each other, so you shoved these thoughts to the back of your mind as you reached the art store, eyes widening at its exterior.
You haven’t seen anything quite like it before, the windows reached from ceiling to floor, a clear view of what was going on inside. There was a spiral staircase that led to the higher level which was littered with bookcases and low hanging retro chandeliers, bean bags spaced out on the floor as people sat around with books in their hands. To the right was the coffee shop with a separate entrance if you were only here for coffee, but you could also enter through the art store. And the art store was gorgeous as you made your way inside, the double doors opening easily. A sweet scent hit your nostrils as you walked further inside, your eyes wide as you took in the whole place. Paintings were hung on the walls, blank canvas placed underneath as many shelves housed all kinds of art supplies. The clerks were all smiley and they welcomed you warmly once they noticed your arrival. Maybe you could find a nicer workplace, something like this one. The workload seemed less strenuous and the people that came here to shop were less rowdy and rude. As much as you loved admiring the fine arts, you didn’t have the talent for drawing or painting, you could mess up even something as simple as a cloud. It was embarrassing, but arts have never been your forte, so you headed for the staircase to look for the book you had on your mind.
Navigating around the many shelves seemed a bit intimidating at first, but then you noticed they were sectioned on different genres, the tags hanging low from the ceiling with an arrow pointing towards the section to help you out. You smiled to yourself as you unrolled your scarf from around your neck, the warmth of the store helping your frozen fingers as you turned down a corner, two tall bookshelves on your sides. At the end of the row sat a younger girl with a manga in her hand, another one pressed to her lips as she seemed to be giggling. You felt yourself smile as you came near her, looking at the titles of the books. Asking for a clerk to help you find the book you were looking for would’ve helped enormously, but you found yourself wanting to stroll around in the warmth, fingers grazing the spines of the books. The girl giggled just a bit louder and blushed when you glanced her way. This wasn’t a library, so she wasn’t disturbing anyone, but she was still mindful of those around her. You turned the corner once again, finding the High Fantasy section, having made your research beforehand, you knew you were in the right place. It took a bit more cruising down the row to finally find the book you were looking for, and you grinned when you found it, taking it off the shelf.
You thought about strolling around the store more just to discover it further, maybe they had cheap trinkets you could buy. You even thought about paying a visit the coffee shop as well, maybe they had one of your favourite patisserie delicacies. You wouldn’t turn down something sweet right now, you didn’t have a sweet tooth necessarily, but there were days when your cravings got the better of you. With that in mind, you headed back the way you had come, sneaking another glance at the younger girl as she gasped, manga now clutched tightly in both of her hands. You chuckled before you rounded the corner, now back on the main aisle that led to the spiral staircase. You noticed that most people who were inside the store looked to be college students, their outfits mismatched colours and patterns, hair coloured something vibrant as most of them had piercings you never even thought possible before. You really liked their style and found yourself staring at them, blushing when a girl caught you and raised an eyebrow before she smiled. You nodded your head and hurried down the stairs, flustered and a little embarrassed. They oddly reminded you of the guy from the bar, you thought he’d somehow fit right in with the people inside the store. It looked something he’d enjoy, not that you knew anything about him besides that he smoked weed, wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, and had a nice sense of fashion.
You were looking at the hard cover of your book as you got to the base of the staircase, taken by the pretty illustration and completely unaware that someone was headed straight towards you, just as taken by items in his hands as you were by your book. The collision could’ve been avoided if you both had been paying attention to where you were going, but alas, you gasped loudly as you felt a hard body collide into yours, items spilling loudly onto the floor. Your head shoot up, eyes wide as you looked at the equally startled man and—wait, it was the same guy from the bar! You gulped, suddenly feeling nervous as your cheeks burned, but the guy hadn’t noticed you yet as he had crouched down to collect his items off the floor. You felt bad and hoped the expensive palette on the ground hadn’t been broken, so you crouched down too and reached for it to inspect it. The guy still hadn’t quite noticed that it was you out of all people, but as you reached for the same brush, his head raised sharply. Your smile was apologetic as the guy’s eyes widened, recognition flashing on his face. This was the third time you met this week, the sheer coincidence of meeting outside the pub was a bit jarring…especially since you’ve been just thinking about him.
“Pretty barista from the pub!” He motioned towards you then chuckled, letting you pick up the brush. Your book was placed on the ground next to you so your hands were free to help.
“Hi,” Your voice came out a lot shier than you had intended it to be, and you chewed on your bottom lip awkwardly, “Sorry about this, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“Don’t worry,” The guy chuckled, scooping up the small canvases, “I wasn’t either. If it makes you feel better, it was both of our faults.”
You hummed and grabbed the last item off the floor, standing at the same time as the guy. His arms were filled with his items, and you wondered if you handed over the four in your hands how he’d be able to carry everything. Despite the cold weather outside, he was underdressed. He wore a simple turtleneck with a brown knitted vest over it, long flowy plants and mismatched tennis shoes. As you both stepped aside from the staircase to make way for others, you cleared your throat and averted your eyes once you realised you were staring again. But you hadn’t seen him wearing glasses before, and with the curly strands falling over his forehead, he didn’t only look handsome but cute as well.
“What brings you here?” The guy made conversation as you tried to figure out how to hand him his items without making him drop them all again, “I say this without meaning to be rude, but you seem like the last person who’d be interested in art.”
You huffed, not bothered by his honesty, “While that statement is incorrect, I’m not here due to the art section of the store. I was looking for a book.”
“Right!” He exclaimed, glancing down at his own chest, “Oh, sorry, you can hand me those, I can carry them!”
“Are you sure?” You asked as he nodded enthusiastically, so you complied. You stepped closer to place the other four items in his arms, watching as he clinched the smaller canvas underneath his chin to keep it from falling. You would’ve laughed and offered to help until he got himself a bag or something, but the guy looked pretty content like this. Like it wasn’t his first time doing this…
“Are you collecting them?” The guy’s incomplete question left you raising a confused eyebrow at him, “Sorry, I saw you’re buying The Hobbit. It’s a pretty famous reprint, the covers are gorgeous, my best friend is collecting them so I assumed you are too.”
You glanced down at the book in your hand and bit your bottom lip, trying to brush off your embarrassment. Why were you feeling like this all of a sudden? It made no sense, but you didn’t want to leave a bad impression on the guy…even though his perception of you might already be fucked since this wasn’t your first time meeting.
“I’ve, uh, so, uhm, I have a to read list for books I’ve never read while growing up, so now I have a little tradition that I buy a book from the list each month and read it.” You spoke quickly, avoiding eye contact as the guy listened to your ramble. His intake of breath was sharp and you chanced a glance at his face, finding his eyes wide and his mouth rounded.
“Wait. Are you saying you haven’t read The Hobbit before?!” He sounded incredulous and alarmed, and your cheeks grew hot once again, actually managing to sour your mood a bit. Not having read the book didn’t make you less by any means, but you had a feeling this guy was well-versed in literature, so it felt like a jab and even a subtle scrutinising.
“Yeah, not everyone likes reading while growing up…” Your tone grew cold and voice snappish as you continued to avoid eye contact, looking towards the front desk so that maybe the guy would get the hint that you were done with this conversation. But it didn’t actually surprise you that he continued speaking without noticing you didn’t want to keep conversing anymore.
“That’s totally cool, my brother hated comic books growing up and now he’s obsessed with them.” The guy chuckled, expression innocent and tone genuinely excited, “I think you’ll love the book, it’s filled with adventure and otherworldly creatures. It’s a nice step back from our grim reality, I feel like you need that right now.”
Okay, there he was assuming again that he could just…psychoanalyse you or whatever, “Can you stop doing that? I’m not a painting you can interpret to your liking.”
The guy blinked, face going blank before his cheeks flushed, his gaze averted now from yours, “I…have I been doing it all this time?”
“Ever since we’ve met.” Your answer was sharp and quick and the guy blushed even more.
“Oh, sorry, I just…I’ll stop doing that,” Then he smiled awkwardly and held eye contact with you, “I’m Hongjoong, by the way, I don’t remember introducing myself.”
Because he hadn’t. You repeated his name in your head, finding yourself liking the sound of it, it seemed like a fitting name for him. You hummed, extending your hand.
“I’m Y/N.” But you and Hongjoong glanced down at your extended hand and then his occupied ones at the same time, chuckles leaving your mouths as he seemed flustered.
“I’m shake your hand the next time we see other.”
“If there will be a next time.”
“I quite like the pub you work at, pretty barista.” You cleared your throat and avoided looking at him because as corny as it was, it kind of made your heart flutter. What was happening? The chiming of the doorbell reminded you that it was time you left and took care of other errands you had in your schedule, but before you could say goodbye to Hongjoong, he asked a question that took you off guard, “Wanna grab a cup of coffee with me?”
Then he turned sideways, nodding towards the adjoined café, and you hesitated for a second. You could actually slip in a little time to have coffee with him, but you felt reluctant. You had met him at the pub, after all, and you still couldn’t decide what type of person he was. Of course, he was handsome, and so far, has showed a good character, but there were little moments when he somehow managed to ruin everything with his words. And he was still a complete stranger, so, listening to your rational mind, you slowly shook your head.
“I don’t like coffee, but thanks!” Your smile was easy, Hongjoong’s face morphed into something knowing as he hummed with a nod.
“Sure, I’m glad I caught you here.” Then, as you were about to take off, he added, “The pretty barista now has a name, I can say my morning was successful.”
You tried to huff and look irked, but the blush betrayed you. You just shook your head before heading for the front desk, “Goodbye, Hongjoong.”
“See ya!” His smile was radiant as he turned around and headed for the café instead, and you realised he was underdressed because he had come from the coffee shop, his things already there. And with Hongjoong on your mind, you followed his distinctive walk as he sauntered over to his table with an elegancy yet swagger you hadn’t seen before.
Now, a week ago you probably would have said no to a preposition that involved you following home a complete stranger whose name you had known for a maximum of four days, but tonight had been literal shit and you were on the verge of tears when Hongjoong had sauntered over to the bar, his Chesire like smile blinding. You had one more hour left of your shift and you’d be clocking out, not even staying behind to help Hani clean up. Your cramps were terrible and a guy who hit on you for the whole night had spilt his drink on your favourite blouse, calling you a bitch as well for shunning him away, so, when you saw Hongjoong approach the bar with mischief in his eyes, you were ready to scream at him and tell him to get lost. Except that you didn’t do all that because his question completely threw you off guard.
“Y/N, do you like art?” He had a rolled-up joint resting at his ear, his hair pulled to the side and clipped back with colourful hair clips. Your laugh that bubbled past your lips sounded incredulous and tired, but you nodded.
“I do, do you want something to drink?” Hongjoong shook his head, leaning across the bar despite it being wet from spilt alcohol.
“When does your shift end?”
“In an hour.”
“Wanna see some of my art?” Then Hongjoong grinned, looking proud of himself, “I’m a painter.”
Something came over you and didn’t even let you ponder over your decision, “Do you have weed?”
The answer was obvious as you glanced at the joint and Hongjoong laughed, tilting his head in a way that sharpened his features under the neon lights of the pub.
“Obviously, got some on me right now. Want some?” Not while you were working, afterwards, however, you were free to do whatever.
“After my shift, yeah.”
“Cool, I’ll meet you in the back. See ya.”
And that’s how you ended up at Hongjoong’s apartment, not even ten minutes away from the pub. Your feet ached and your cramps were so bad you felt like doubling over and emptying your already empty stomach, but you tried to hold yourself together in front of Hongjoong. There was a nervous flutter in your chest as you had followed him up the steel staircase, the building old and dodgy. However, the second you walked inside his studio apartment, it felt like you had entered a different realm. He was the true definition of an artist, you came to realise, with canvas strewn around the apartment, most finished but some blank, oil paint tainting the wooden floor and even the walls. The colours were neutral, beige with a slip of sage green here and there, the curtains sheer and pulled to the side as Hongjoong hurried over to the windows to push them open. There was an earthy smell in the air mixed with something sweet like vanilla, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the cosiness of Hongjoong’s studio. You recognised a few prints on the walls, they were the paintings of well-known painters who no longer lived, and the décor Hongjoong had used was rather vintage than modern. His huge wardrobe was open, and he pushed the door closed with little care as he picked up a hoodie off the floor. You were surprised he even owned one of those.
You flinched when it collided against your head, confused as to why he had thrown it at you. Hongjoong chuckled as he shrugged his coat off, trying to tidy his messy bed but quickly giving up when he realised you didn’t look like you cared. Truthfully, your apartment wasn’t in a better shape, the dishes in the sink had been there for three days and your bathroom was in dire need of a deep clean.
“We can’t smoke weed with closed windows, so it’ll get colder.” Hongjoong suddenly explained, shrugging on a cardigan that looked very soft, “Wear my hoodie, it’ll keep you warm.”
You hummed, glancing down at it before you stepped out of your shoes, shrugging your jacket off and wearing the hoodie. Its scent was sweet but potent with something musky, and you blushed as your nose buried into its fabric, drinking in its soft material.
“Make yourself feel at home!” Hongjoong grinned, walking over to the small kitchen section to grab two cups, “Do you want tea?”
You shook your head as you walked towards the small bean bag, pushing it with your leg to try and get it more gathered together. And then, just as you were about to sink into the chair, you heard a faint sound come from the kitchen. You turned your head and were met with a small black creature blinking at you in wonder.
“You have a cat?” You asked in surprise, staring back at the little pet. Hongjoong chuckled, looking down at his pet as the electric kettle started whistling.
“Is it so surprising? I found him near a dumpster a few years ago, he’s been by my side ever since.” You couldn’t help but gaze at Hongjoong with admiration as he spoke, pouring hot water into his cup for the tea, “His name is Woo ‘cuz he reminds me of my friend. They are both rascals and really loud.”
As if on cue, the cat meowed loudly and you chuckled, finally easing yourself into the bean bag. Your lower back protested and your spine cracked as you allowed yourself to lean back, arching your back. You could’ve cried at the relief, thankful to finally be off your feet. You couldn’t wait for the weed, it would dull your cramps and help you ease up after the day you’ve had. You were probably in dire need of a shower since you smelled like alcohol, but you didn’t feel comfortable showering at a guy’s place you barely knew. Which, now that you thought more about it, realisation started setting in. You weren’t too smart for following Hongjoong home, but he had never creeped you out, so you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt tonight. You stared at the cat as Hongjoong mixed honey into his berry-flavoured tea, the warm mist hogging up his glasses. The cat, still at Hongjoong’s side, stared back at you and then slowly walked towards you, its head tilted in wonder. You smiled at it and let it smell your fingers, taking you off guard when it unceremoniously climbed into your lap, starting to make biscuits against your lower abdomen.
“Ah, of course, you’re already in the lap of the pretty barista.” Hongjoong mused with an amused smile on his lips, “You take after Wooyoung more than one would think.”
You had no idea who this Wooyoung guy was, but it sounded like he was a flirt if Hongjoong wasn’t bluffing.
“I like your apartment,” You blurted out as you started petting the cat, smiling down at it when it started purring, “It’s got character, much like you.”
“That’s the first time you said something completely honest to me.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at Hongjoong, the joint from his ear now gone as he grabbed some matches to light it up. You didn’t think that was true, but you didn’t say anything as Hongjoong came nearer, sitting down on the floor across from you. You looked at him as he took a long whiff of his joint, then extended his arm for you to take the weed. It’s been quite a while since you smoked any, you knew it would hit you faster, but you hoped it wasn’t too strong or you’d become sick. You took a careful drag of it as Woo settled into a slumber in your lap, and the earthy taste of it made you grimace. But you kept the smoke in your lungs for a bit before exhaling, taking another drag as Hongjoong watched you with a lazy smile. He looked so…handsome. You’ve had a few days to yourself to think about Hongjoong after your encounter in the art store, and you realised you were attracted to him. It was mostly physical since you liked his looks, but his brutally honest character also had you intrigued even if you’d get offended at times by what he was saying.
“I find it hilarious that you decided to come home with me after you declined to have coffee.” Your eyes met Hongjoong’s quickly just as you were about to hand over the joint, “Do you really don’t drink coffee? Or did you just want to get rid of me that day?”
“I…” You licked your lips as Hongjoong took the joint from you, grinning as he took a long drag once again, “Both, actually. I just…I don’t know you well enough and we’ve also met at the pub, I don’t like meddling with clients. Those frat boys are horny and only want to sleep with me.”
“Good thing I’m not a frat boy then, right, Woo?” Hongjoong grinned and ruffled the slumbering cat’s fur, looking back at you with an understanding look, “I’ll be done with my master’s degree in just a few months.”
You hummed, picking at the sleeve of Hongjoong’s hoodie before you saw the joint handed to you again, “And after that? What do you plan on doing?”
Suddenly, Hongjoong had a pensive look on his face as he leaned back on his arms, staring up at the ceiling. You took shorter drags of the joint now but kept the smoke in your lungs until it started burning.
“I want to travel the world, visit art galleries and drink a lot of expensive wine.” That didn’t sound bad at all, Hongjoong continued before you could tell him, “It’s hard breaking into the industry as a painter even though some realtors have already approached me to buy my paintings and put them on display.”
“And? What did you say to them?” You felt genuinely curious, the cat sighed loudly in your lap and Hongjoong looked at you two, reaching out for the joint. Your fingertips brushed together and Hongjoong’s hands felt too cold, but you didn’t comment on it.
“I turned them down,” Hongjoong smiled, but it looked almost sad before he shrugged, taking a drag, “I don’t want just anyone owning my creations. I want someone who understands what’s on that canvas to contact me, I want someone who genuinely loves art and isn’t just doing it for the money. It’s hard to find people like that nowadays, but I’m willing to wait as long as it takes…even if that makes me broke.”
Hongjoong scoffed out a chuckle, sounding bitter by the end of his sentence. For someone who was so good at reading others and commenting on their lives, Hongjoong seemed to be having his own demons he had to fight. You hummed, closing your eyes for a second as you felt your muscles ease up, your cramps less torturous. You were glad the weed was slowly kicking in, your cramps would’ve had you crying if not.
“So how do you plan on travelling if you have no money?” Maybe the question was insensitive, but you were curious. Hongjoong didn’t take offence as he smiled, looking at you with sparkling eyes.
“There are art courses all around the world, I might sign up for one and leave, never look back…”
“Do you hate it here?” The question tumbled past your lips before you could stop yourself, “Because I don’t.”
Hongjoong didn’t look surprised as he nodded, handing back the joint so you could finish it. Three drags and it would be gone, so you took your time savouring it.
“It’s not the worst, but I don’t see much of a future for myself here.” So, Hongjoong was just like you then, “When are you leaving?”
“How did you know?” You sounded shocked as Hongjoong shrugged, averting his eyes.
“You and I are rather similar, you just fail to see it, Y/N.” Well, maybe he was right, maybe he wasn’t. You couldn’t read Hongjoong as well as he could read you, you needed more time to feel out his character.
“Six months and I’m out of here, never to come back if life’s kind to me.” Your voice was quiet as you didn’t look at Hongjoong, smoke wafting through your lips as you finished the joint. Hongjoong hummed, a low and warm sound, as he reached for the stud to take it from you. Your fingers brushed together once again, and you looked at Hongjoong when he held your wrist.
“You’re stronger than you think, you’ll make it big out there, Y/N, have more faith in yourself.” You found yourself smiling now, head a little hazy as you nodded, finding it easier to believe whatever Hongjoong told you.
“You’re the artist between the two of us, you’re the one supposed to make it big.” Hongjoong chuckled and stood, headed for the kitchen.
“Can’t we both make it big?” He raised an eyebrow as he threw the stud away, turning around to face you. You hummed, not entirely agreeing with him, but you decided to nod. Then, Hongjoong turned towards where his bed was and grinned, “You’re here to see some art, no?”
“Right, I almost forgot about that.” Hongjoong chuckled, then beckoned you over. You grabbed the cat in your lap and pressed a kiss against its small head, placing it on the bean bag in your spot. Your feet felt light as you headed towards Hongjoong, who had sauntered over to the desk pressed up against the wall underneath the open windows. He turned the small lamp on, and suddenly you were looking at small canvases filled with colour and abstract shapes. Somehow they looked like an organised mess, even in the overflowing swirl of colours, you managed to find a pattern that seemed to never end like a loop. You turned your head to look at Hongjoong, and suddenly you realised his art was a perfect reflection of who he was.
“I can tell you made these.” Perhaps phrasing it like that was offensive, but Hongjoong only looked curious. He hummed, raising an eyebrow.
“How come?” His voice was quiet, curious.
“I can see you in these.” You pointed at the canvas with orange and yellow as the more prominent colours, circling a deep blue that looked almost black, “The blue is you at your core, dark and perhaps scared of the world. And then all that orange and yellow? I think that’s how you see the world, how you wish it treated you, hoping it would lighten all that darkness that looms over you all the time. And this one? I wonder if it was a coincidence you hid so many infinity symbols in the background, this burgundy is gorgeous, by the way. I think everyone is afraid of disappearing without leaving a trace of themselves in this fucked up world, and I actually…I admire you for being so honest and straightforward, very few people are like you.”
Hongjoong’s eyebrows were furrowed the longer you spoke, but he remained silent as you smiled, looking down at the white canvas, unfinished but with light blue swirls creating the illusion of a clear sky, “I wonder what this will turn into. So far, it reminds me of serenity, of the calm before a storm. Life’s like that too, don’t you think? It’s quiet and gentle, and then it turns into a scary thing that can destroy us if we let it.”
Hongjoong just gulped, his eyes clouded but his heart racing. He was positive no one had been able to interpret his art for what it was before, and he wondered how much of him you could see through his eyes if you could read so well what the trail of his brush had left on a blank canvas. It made him feel seen like never before, not even his biggest supporter, Wooyoung, could see beyond Hongjoong’s intentions when he sat down to paint, to tell the world his pain and rage, yearning for someone to just finally see him.
“You’re…” Hongjoong gulped, his throat feeling dry as you smiled at him, curious if you’d been right, “You are a person I should cherish more from now on.”
Your eyebrows raised in surprise, your heart skipping a beat once again. What did he mean by saying that? You wanted to ask, but Hongjoong stepped closer, his tone breathy as he spoke up again, “‘Whoever wants to know something about me – as an artist which alone is significant – they should look attentively at my pictures and there seek to recognize what I am and what I want’…that’s what Gustav Klimt once said. And so far, you are the only person who’s managed to do that.”
Your mouth gaped open, and you both heard Woo stretch and meow loudly, his soft footsteps loud as he walked towards Hongjoong’s bed, jumping up and finding a new spot to sleep. You didn’t know what to say back to that, but you felt your heart race as your cheeks flushed, shy all of a sudden. Hongjoong was looking at you with a softness no man has looked at you with, it was a bit hard to take it all in without freaking yourself out that this wasn’t real, that it was just the weed, or that maybe Hongjoong wasn’t as genuine as his expression showed.
“Y/N,” You didn’t flinch when his hand wrapped around your wrist, his tone still soft, “I think you already know that I find you pretty, and I…I might have gone to that dingy pub for so long just to see you, actually.”
Those words had your heart racing even wilder as you looked up, finding Hongjoong’s face closer to yours as his eyes now bore into yours, “I should���ve been more specific when I asked you to have coffee with me. I meant to ask you out on a date, but I panicked because I knew I had slightly upset you, but…”
He gulped nervously and you felt so curious to hear what more he had to say, perhaps a smile would encourage him, so that’s what you did, offered him a small friendly smile. He released a breath and cleared his throat, his hand slipping from your wrist to your hand, “Can I kiss you?”
If this was anyone else but Hongjoong, your answer would have been an instant no. But the longer you looked into his eyes, the more excited and giddy you felt, so you just nodded your head and licked your lips, trying to ignore the deep flush of your cheeks. Hongjoong chuckled, suddenly looking shy, but he started leaning in, his eyes fluttering closed just as your lips met. It was careful, it was sweet and it made your heart roar as you stepped just a bit closer, your noses brushing together as your lips moved slowly and carefully, mostly just testing out the waters. Hongjoong’s lips were soft and sweet, and surprisingly didn’t taste like weed but like peaches. You wondered if he used any sort of lip balm to have them taste like that. His hand settled on your cheek and he gently caressed your cheekbone with his thumb, making your heart roar once again. It’s been long since someone had treated you with such gentleness, and you told yourself to remain level-headed, but it would be just so easy to fall in love with Hongjoong. You couldn’t help but smile as you two pulled apart, Hongjoong tried to hide his own grin as he sucked his lips together, but his eyes gave him away. You chuckled and he giggled, and suddenly you felt the urge to pull him into a hug.
“So,” He cleared his throat as he let his arms rest around your torso loosely, “If you don’t like coffee, what do you like?”
“Delicious cakes.” You didn’t hesitate to answer and Hongjoong chuckled, patting your head.
“Well then, would you like to go on a delicious cake-hunting date with me?” You closed your eyes to contain your excitement, but the weed had not only eased your muscles but your always worrying mind as well.
“Yes!” You didn’t mean to squeal, but it was hard not to when Hongjoong startled giggling sweetly once again, nodding his head.
“Good, I’ll make sure we find the best spots in the city then.”
And perhaps not just in the city, but also in foreign countries while you attended Hongjoong’s art expositions, an expensive bottle of wine waiting for the two of you back at the hotel.
੭ Masterlist ੭
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Oblivion ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝˚.⋆⋆˙⟡ — Luigi Mangione x Oblivious!Reader ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ CWs: Reader is violently oblivious like so clueless . Corny Flirting . Neurodivergence in Luigi . Slight angst ? ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ I played w the fourth wall a bit lol
What is she doing to me, man?
I mean, wait wait wait—! Before you switch, just listen to me for a second, okay? I’ve been trying to get with this girl I love for the past three years, and she hasn’t even acknowledged any of my attempts!
If she weren’t into me, I'd expect her to at least bring it up later, right? Ask me to clarify, say she doesn’t see me like that, or god forbid say it makes her feel uncomfortable.
But you haven’t! Every time I make a flirty comment, you just giggle and say I’m too kind! I’ve never once thought I was bad at flirting, but are my lines just not hitting like they used to?
Even now, as I’m walking you home, you’ve got your arm wrapped around mine while I talk about a robotics competition I did when I was fifteen that ultimately changed the course of my life and sparked a permanent interest in computer science. But all that seemed to travel through Luigi’s mind was whether or not you liked him back!
You nodded, hanging onto his every word as the hard rubber soles of your pink Jordan dunks step-step-stepped on the thick and heavy slabs of concrete. He seemed to really like telling you about his interests and achievements— not that you didn’t want to hear about them— but you just wondered why he seemed to love talking about academics so much around you.
But anyway, that’s beside the point. You and Luigi have been great friends for around four years now, and things were just amazing!
He bought you little candles, cute room decor, candy, new shoes, pretty rings, necklaces with your initials, and your favorite flowers all wrapped up in pink parchment! He was the best guy friend a girl could ask for, really, but that was a part of the problem.
He was so amazing in ways that other men in your life had never even come close to being before. From remembering little things about your interests to all the many dollars he had spent on spools of plastic for his 3D printer, gifting you elaborate custom-made plastic trinkets and “forever flowers,” as he liked to call them.
He was smart, funny, witty, and left your mind melting in his wake every time he graced your mornings with a random Starbucks order for you to try. Now perfect is high praise, because everyone has their flaws, but if you had to use the word for anybody it’d be him.
There was no way in the world Luigi had his eyes set on you when there were thousands, hell, millions of women out there that could perfectly complete his complex puzzle of a mind. You weren’t dumb or dull by any means, but there were just better options for your best friend.
It’s fine, really. Not sentimental at all, no no really.
“What are you doing this weekend, by the way?” Luigi asked, his voice cutting through the amalgamation of crazed screams in your mind.
You thought, your lips pursed together in a lopsided pout as you flipped through the mental pages of your planner, each page containing some sort of mental note or red ink until you reached this weekend. Free on Saturday, but only after ten in the morning.
“I’m free this Saturday, but I have to drop a friend from college off at the airport. She’s moving to Kansas, so I should be free any time after, like, ten to ten-thirty. Why?” You asked, your attention suddenly being grabbed by a community garden just up ahead full of pretty pink peonies and daffodils.
He watched as your eyes locked onto the garden and its floral inhabitants. He smiled his usual boyish grin, letting go of your arm momentarily to jog over to the garden before you got a chance to even process what he was doing.
“Luigi—? Luigi, what are you doing!?” You called, standing up on your tip-toes and calling out to him right in the middle of Twenty-fifth Street.
You saw him duck down, his cocoa brown curls disappearing amongst the plant life and greenery. You crossed your arms, waiting for him on the sidewalk like a puppy owner would wait for their eager little Maltese or Pomeranian to return from their burst of energy.
When that familiar face emerged again, he advanced towards you with a handful of freshly plucked flowers. He placed them in your hand with a particularly girly giggle, gently brushing his fingers across the general petals like he wanted to get a feel for their genetic material.
When he was done fluffing up each bloom, he gently placed a hand at the small of your back in a silent urge for you to keep walking.
“I’m not sure if that was illegal or not, we should probably start walking,” he beamed, a light pink dusting the apples of his cheeks as he felt you lace your arm around his firm one again. “But yeah, uh…what was I saying…Oh, right, I wanted to ask if you wanted to spend the day with me at my house. We’d have to go grocery shopping but it sounds fun…in theory.”
You nodded, an amused chuckle leaving your lips as you scurried down the street with Luigi. By now you neared your humble little home, sandwiched in between two other townhouses composed of bricks of vermilion.
“Yeah, sure! Why not. I’m not paying for groceries though,” you joked, reaching in your sweater pocket for your keys.
“You don’t pay for anything, girl…” he chuckled, his brows furrowing together with amusement.
“Well, you don’t let me!” You giggled, patting yourself down from head to toe before you sighed from the depths of your lungs. You left your keys on the kitchen counter.
“I done left my damn keys in the house,” you huffed, shaking your head as if you were disappointed with your laggy mind.
“That’s fine, I have mine,” Luigi added, reaching in his back pocket and pulling out a set of keys attached to a matte-black key fob, a LittleBigPlanet charm, a little heart charm you gave him two years back, and a Ben & Jerry’s discount pendant.
He plucked the only silver key from the jingly set, gently twisting your front door open with a flick of his wrist and a click of the bottom lock.
“Lock your top lock,” he reminded with no real bite in his tone. He raised his brow slightly, a look of feigned disapproval as you giggled back up at him.
“My hero!” You chirped, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders and pretending to swoon over his large muscles. “What would I ever do without you!”
“Stop it,” he chuckled, his sharp canines glimmering in the early afternoon sunlight as your feet hit the ground again. “Get in your house, go.”
You laughed, squishing his muscles one more time before he manually removed your hand from his bicep and turned you around, giving you a playful smack on the behind that sent you yelping into giggles in the doorframe.
“Bye, Luigi,” you mused, leaning against the white archway of your home with a satisfied and impish smile. He chuckled along with you, clipping his keys on his jeans belt loop as he leaned on the opposite side of the door frame.
“Goodbye, culona,” he chuckled, gently pulling your front door closed. “Lock your top lock!”
You smiled, locking both your top and bottom locks following Luigi’s gentle reminder to make sure you’re completely safe when home alone. Once you were sure your door was properly locked, you kicked off your shoes and raced upstairs to your warm and inviting bed.
You stared at the many Polaroids on your white walls; some of them from college or high school, most of them stemming from your solo trips or memories with Luigi. From jumping off of cliffs in Thailand to stuffing each other inside ridiculously small spaces to see how far the other's bones could bend before giving clear warnings of discomfort.
He was the best friend you’ve ever had in a long long time, and you didn’t want to be stupid and jeopardize that. So rather than perusing any sort of connection with Luigi— as tantalizing and coveted as he was.
You sighed, the air rushing in through your nostrils and drying up your mouth as you exhaled. As the tasteless carbon left your lungs, the bitter flavor of unrequited love bit your tongue, the iron taste of heartbreak bringing you back to your sad little senses.
But it’s fine…he’s still around, and after a while, the feelings will gradually fade into sparkles of humor that you’ll be able to sprinkle into daily conversations. A mere powder amongst the storm of dust you would ultimately face later in life— something to laugh about later, and nothing more.
But for now, that wasn’t the main concern. Your goal of the hour was to get your outside clothes off your bed, take a shower, and catch up on some new shows you had been meaning to watch for a while now.
You slipped out of your jeans and top, unclasping the sharp and satanic teeth of your bra and flinging it somewhere around your room before donning a nice soft sweater and shorts. The gentle fleece kissed your skin, bathing you in endless amounts of comfort compared to the cheap polyester-printed textile of some SHEIN shirt you had put on earlier.
You spent the rest of your afternoon through the late evening doing house chores. Folding laundry, doing dishes, sweeping the living room, cleaning yours, and finally getting around to organizing your dresser.
When the house radiated Pine Sol and the scent of Yankee Candle’s Soft Blanket, you took a deep sigh before deciding to take a scalding everything shower that would leave your vision impaired for the next hour. Shave, exfoliate, wash, deep condition, rinse, wash, rinse.
And just like you assumed you would, you stumbled out of the shower lightheaded and dehydrated after battling the demons of self-care. Your baby hairs clung to your forehead, a hot and humid reminder of the war you had won as you wobbled out of the bathroom to slather on some warm vanilla lotion.
You lathered the silky oils across your limbs and soft stomach, sliding on a matching set of blue and white pajamas before settling down at your vanity to do your skincare. No sooner than you sat down, your phone began to ring and chime with your set ringtone for Luigi.
You propped your phone up against the mirror, answering his slightly untimely call as you dabbed gentle amounts of your Curology on your face. “Hey, Lui!”
“Hi pretty,” he sighed, drowsiness evident in his tone.
His face was partially buried in his plush-looking pillow, a singular eye fought to stay open so he could see you on FaceTime. He watched as you slathered your skin shiny with products, serums, eye patches, and deep-moisturizing creams as you smiled at his little comment.
“I literally look like raggedy-Ann and you’re still calling me pretty. You’re too kind,” you chuckled, placing two green brightening eye patches under your eyes. “What’s up?”
“You do…not look raggedy, trust me,” he murmured, a sound that bridged between a scoff and a short chuckle from the front of his tongue. “But I didn’t want anything, I just missed you.”
“Luigi, you just saw me like…five hours ago!” you giggled, checking the time on your metallic alarm clock. “You’re literally gonna see me again in, like, twelve hours.”
“Yeah but I miss you” he frowned, sitting up so his back rested against the black wooden frame of his headboard. “You’ve been gone way too long.”
“Luigi you’re being a baby” you chuckled, placing all your cosmetics, cleansers, and containers in their respective places before grabbing your phone off the vanity and crossing the short distance to your bed.
“See, why are you being mean to me? I call you to say how much I love and miss you and you kick me to the streets?” He joked, his words enunciated by a quirk of his bushy brow.
“I’m not kicking you to the streets, I’m pointing out that you’re being a clingy little pissrat,” you teased, widening your eyes at the camera in faux shock.
“Pissrat is crazy…” he chuckled, a low sigh that drawled from the back of his throat and left his mouth a little drier than before.
You chattered back and forth on FaceTime until about four in the morning, and soon, the daunting revelation that you’d have to be up and out of bed to drive over thirty minutes to the airport and back washed over your brain like cold rainfall. You groaned, throwing your head back in near-violent regret before you exhaled from your nose.
“Are you okay? Hello?” Luigi asked, his brows furrowing together as an expression of slight fear and confusion donned his face. In an effort to placate you, he waved a single hand up and down at the camera in a little “calm down” motion.
“I’m fine, I just didn’t realize it was like…four in the morning. I have to be up in like two hours,” you whined, your eyes screwing shut as you accepted the somnolent fate that awaited you in just a few hours.
“Then get some sleep! Cuz then I have to deal with you in the morning, and you’re gonna be all cranky and irritated, then I’m gonna have to leave you outside…” he sighed, running a hand over his face to mimic genuine distress.
“So charming,” you huffed, flipping him off as your face buried itself into your pillows.
“I charm you every day, you just don’t know it,” he smiled, rolling his eyes in the most disgustingly flamboyant way his muscles could muster. It almost made you gag, both literally and metaphorically.
“Ew, sassy sergeant…” you huffed, flipping him off before blowing air kisses at the camera. “Goodnight!! I’ll see you in like…a couple of hours”
“Goodnight, pretty” he yawned, waving at the camera as his head leaned back against his headboard, the tanned column of his neck on full display.
You chuckled, taking a very obvious FaceTime photo before hanging up and giggling into your pillow. His face was so gorgeous— deep dark cosmos and stardust swam through his eyes, swirling with adoration that could kill you if you got too close.
And when your eyes fluttered shut you dreamed about him and his gentle chivalry. If gallantry was dead, then Luigi would be the very spark of electricity that rose from the ashes.
Sculpted by the clay-sodden hands of a helpless god, desperate to create one last reminder of courtliness in the dawn of decadency. Luigi, the ever-iridescent emerald buried deep in the sediment that aged and preserved his quality, birthing the emerald of Venus— a manifestation of her saintly love.
The slow pattern of your gentle breathing filled the room and slumber soothed the lingering anxiety that sneered and taunted your conscious. In the land of dreams and painless drift, there was nothing that could disturb your mind.
Except for an alarm clock.
The noise was loud, piercing, and obnoxious as your eyes just barely rose, a slow and undead hand reached out for your phone to press the big orange stop button on your phone. With a heavy and half-dead sigh, you arose from your cozy little coffin of a bed and stalked your way to your bathroom to get ready for the morning.
Hot shower, toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, edge brush, and a little bit of warm vanilla perfume were all it took to jumpstart your morning. You grabbed your keys and tossed on some pretty pale blue jeans and a brown zip-up hoodie over a white crop top before you wiggled out the door and headed to your car.
In just a couple of hours, your best friend would be pushing you around a cold supermarket while your limbs dangled out of a near-filthy shopping trolley as you mindlessly knocked things off the shelf that would come crashing on top of you.
The casual intimacy of it was almost domestic— it was like shopping with your life-long partner. The few times you had shopped with him before had usually ended up with you eating ingredients with him on his couch while he word vomited about the nutritional value of the different kinds of snacks you had bought.
But you focused on the now, helping your cousin load her bags into your trunk right after you pulled into her driveway. When you finished, you dusted your hands off on your thighs and shut the trunk with a heavy thud before checking your phone after ignoring it ever since you silenced your alarm.
mario💚
‘ Good morning <3 Have fun driving your cousin. Tell her I said hi! Btw I think we’re gonna go to Whole Foods. ‘
You giggled to yourself, hearting the message before shoving your phone into your back pocket to climb in the front seat.
“Ooh, who got you smiling like that? Is it Luigi?” She asked, poking at your shoulder with a giddy grin.
“Chill, chill…Maybe,” you chuckled, pulling back out of the driveway a little messier than you would have liked to admit.
“Aw shit…we’re gonna crash and we ain’t even make it on the road yet. Lord take us, on her soul we ready,” She teased, throwing her hands halfway up in faux prayer.
“I should’ve left you in the house, on YOUR soul,” you fired back, a half-hidden smirk clawing its way to your face as you set your GPS.
“Didn’t you go to one of those fuck ass frat parties with him a couple years ago?” She asked, pulling out her mascara wand from her purse and touching up her lashes.
“Yeah, it was lowkey trash…like there was no personal space and music was shit. But I was really drunk so it got better,” you nodded, tossing on the radio to hopefully divert her attention from your best friend to something different.
“Man, if y'all don’t get married already,” she huffed, slamming the black mascara closed like the idea of your unattached state irritated her— skin-deep.
“He’s definitely not into me, but go off,” you chuckled, shaking your head at the childish fable she just proposed.
She stared at you, sharp from the corners of her eyes before a small scoff pushed past her lips. “A’ight, girl, whatever you say…”
The rest of the ride was spent jabbering about different topics before it was time to say your goodbyes, watching her disappear behind the glassy doors of the airport. After you confirmed that she had gotten situated inside, you took some time to text Luigi back.
“good morning ! :) omw rn just dropped her off. She says hey”
- Loved by Mario💚
You spent roughly forty-five minutes in your car, driving all the way from the airport over to Luigi’s with your music at a comfortable volume. You barely even had time to pull into a parking spot before the front door slowly came open to reveal your best friend twirling his keys around his pointer finger.
He waved, his sculpted arm flailing with excitement as you pulled up next to his house. You waved back, eagerly scrambling out of the car with a huge grin.
“Lu!” You beamed, jogging over to where he stood on his front porch and giving him a rather grand hug.
“Hi, pretty,” he squeaked, his strong arms wrapping around the small of your back and squeezing you into oblivion. Your sneakers dangled above the pavement, a shocked little chuckle rushing from your lips before he sat you back down on the ground.
“Alright, let’s go to Whole Foods, you can pick out some stuff too. I’ll pay” he smiled, making his way to his car with a very jolly pep in his step.
“I’ve never seen a man so excited about groceries,” you murmured, giggling at his little wiggly walk.
“No, I’m just really excited to see the most beautiful woman in the world,” he smiled, opening the passenger door for you with a boyish glint in his eye.
“Oh stop, I’m not paying for your groceries, Luigi,” you chuckled, giving him a shy smile before climbing into the passenger seat.
“No, that’s not what— oh you’re so…” he chuckled before closing your door oh so gently.
I mean, it wasn’t like his flirting was any type of concealed. He was trying everything! Italian nicknames, food, chivalry, casual compliments, everything!
But you just…didn’t notice. Sigh.
The ride to the grocery store was full of giggles, friendly flirting, and little side remarks about Luigi’s shitty driving skills— those for which he blamed your presence.
“I can’t help it! You keep laughing, and it’s making the car swerve. Siren song…all your fault,” he tutted, shaking his head in faux disapproval.
“I don’t know man…I think you just can’t drive. Might be because you’re Italian,” you joked.
“Okay racism, go off girl!” He beamed, snapping a very homosexual finger with a little face you could only categorize as flamboyant ferocity.
“Mamma Mia!” You sighed, shaking your head in feigned resignation.
“I will crash this car, don’t play with me,” he teased.
“Shocked you haven’t already,” you sighed.
When you reached Whole Foods, you practically bolted out of the car as you charged to find a big shopping trolley that you’d make Luigi push you around in. You hopped over the thin metal bars, the cart clattering underneath you as you boarded it with near-lethal aggression.
“See, look. Crashing carts and all you did was sit down. Lord, take her, she’s ready,” he joked, his hands wrapping around the handle and pushing you into the store as you shifted your limbs to accommodate for the tiny space.
He pushed you through each aisle, letting you lean over and sweep things into the trolley with little regard for what you were even picking. Mango ice cream, tortilla chips, some fancy goat's cheese, pocky, and a bunch of cherry turnovers with golden brown puff pastry.
The various snacks and ingredients began to pile on top of you, your midriff and bust while Luigi read off his little grocery list on his phone. He paused, looking down at you before giggling quietly, bonking your head with a blue box of fettuccine.
“Alright, that’s enough,” he giggled, pinching the bridge of your nose with his middle knuckles on his pointer and middle finger. “I think we got everything…I see you got yourself some snacks…” he mused, his eyes widening slightly.
“I had a moment,” you said, clutching a brown bag of lime tortilla chips that crinkled and crunched under the pressure from your arms.
“I see” he chuckled, pushing you over to check out and ringing everything up— freeing you from your crunchy cage of various kinds of sustenance.
He paid for your things, positioning the four reusable tote bags next to you in the cart as close as he could without squishing you to death. It was more of a task than it would seem, considering the cart was barely big enough to fit all of your being.
But for you, he made it work.
“Alright, let’s go do stupid shit at the house. I think we can try and make like…a vegan cake,” he murmured, rolling you out of the supermarket with an unserious smile.
“Vegan cake? Nah, you were right earlier. Lord, it’s my time, I’m ready,” you sighed, throwing your arms out in feigned disappointment.
“Stop it, vegan food is good for the body and brain,” he murmured, raising a brow at your innocent hatred for his idea of vegan baked goods.
“The only thing that goes into a cake that’s vegan is the flour…yeah nah. We can make vegan parfaits though. Or just eat carrots. Or just not eat?” You smiled.
“Actually, what did you eat today?” He asked, stopping the trolley in front of the car And unloading the bags into the trunk.
“Actually I didn’t eat anything yet,” you hummed, the realization just now setting in as you dangled your calves out of the little cart.
He paused, staring at you with a raised brow like you had just spewed a line of blasphemy. He closed the trunk with a heavy thunk and shook his head before scooping you out of the trolley.
“Yeah, no, that’s not an option…” he chuckled, placing you in front of the passenger seat and pulling open the door for you once again.
You giggled, getting as cozy as you wanted, even propping your heels up on the dashboard. When Luigi found his way to the driver's seat after shutting your door, he tossed a bag containing a cherry turnover at your head with one command.
“Eat. You’re hurting my goddess. You know what that’s called? Blasphemy. Shame on you, depriving a god like that…” he smirked, the engine of his lovely white Toyota Corolla. “How’s your cousin by the way?”
“Oh she’s doing great,” you said in between bites, being extra careful to not get crumbs in Luigi’s car— as eating was something he barely allowed inside of his precious vehicular baby.
“She was a little annoying today though. She said we should get married, but I thought that was weird because we obviously aren’t like that,” you chuckled. “I think she thinks you’re like…in love with me.”
He sighed, long and heavy from the depths of his lungs, his forehead resting on the black and slightly worn leather of the steering wheel as his hands gripped its top. You expected him to be annoyed for you, to pop his head back up and say something that would refute the claim with an uncomfortable chuckle.
“Alright, come on,” he groaned, his head now gently hitting against the steering wheel before he turned to look at you again with furrowed brows and a clenched jaw.
“Am I not your type? Am I too clingy? What is it, love,” he sighed. Wait what? Is he acting…? What is he talking about right now?
“Wait what…Luigi, what are you talking about?” You asked, slowly wrapping up your cherry-tasting pastry back in its plastic.
“Hi! Hello! Look at me, please,” he said, putting the car back in park and cupping your face in his hands. He looked like he was at his breaking point, the blows and slams you had taken to his fragile little heart unknowingly beginning to show on the map of his Sicilian features.
“I love you. So so much. Like, I’ve been trying to throw hints since like twenty-nineteen. I am VERY in love with you, stay with me, now,” he enunciated slowly, letting you mirror his body language as you nodded slowly.
“As we speak I’m letting you eat in my car, knowing it makes my skin crawl! I have a key to your house! You have a key to mine! My call log is literally just you…What is it, please just tell me. Are you not into me? Are you genuinely unaware…?” He whispered, his eyes dangerously close to crossing like he was in physical pain from saying this out loud.
“Oh my god, I had no idea…” You gasped, wrapping both of your hands over Luigi’s wrists, your thumbs flitting over his carpal bones with the gentleness of a newborn swan with their eyes freshly open to perceive the colors around them.
He sighed, a self-pitying chuckle tumbling from his lips before he began squishing and pinching your cheeks. You weren’t sure if it was to self-soothe, or if this was his alternative for shaking you senseless.
“Okay…This is me formally asking. May I have the honor of being your boyfriend?” He asked, a tired smile on his face as he gave you a half-nod.
“Of course, Lu,” you laughed, kissing the tip of his nose with a bright smile.
“Oh thank fuck, I was gonna cry,” he sighed, kissing your squished-up cheeks before settling back in the driver's seat.
And after he pulled out of the driveway of Whole Foods, his cheeks tinted cherry with a fine dusting at the tip of his nose, he could rest easy knowing that he was finally out of the friendzone.
Ignorance is bliss, and you were one blissful woman.
Taglist is coming <3
#luigi mangione x reader#luigi mangione thoughts#luigi mangione x you#luigi mangione fanfiction#luigi mangione fanfic#luigi mangione x y/n#luigi mangione fluff#luigi mangione x yn#luigi mangione imagine
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A Pair of Plushies
Pairing: Sylus x Fem|Reader
Summary: I got this cute interaction playing the claw machine and it just screamed Sylus wanting to make two of MC. AKA, Sylus wants to be a girl dad.
Content warnings: Adult language. Breeding kink. P in v. Porn with feelings. Pregnancy fic. Tooth rotting fluff!
Length: 9500
It is strange how such profound changes in your life can come from the most mundane of instances. You were having a pretty normal day, you had just gotten off of work and were relaxing with your boyfriend at the arcade. Sylus was braving the afternoon to come out and see you. Your schedules were pretty different since he was awake almost exclusively during the night and you worked during the day.
But you were together today and were at one of the claw machines trying to get even more plushies. You had accumulated an impressive collection but there were always more that you wanted. Today you were at the machine giving Sylus directions to help him get the hearty hearts plushie.
The plushie fell into the bin and you clapped happily as he retrieved it and handed it to you.
“Two little cuties together are definitely twice as adorable!” you said, holding the little heart plushie to your chest.
Sylus shook his head. “Aren’t you tired of seeing something that looks exactly the same?”
“Never! That’s what makes it cute. Just imagine waking up to two little plushies right beside you--” You paused, noticing the way Sylus’s gaze focused. “Why are you suddenly staring at me?”
He smirked. “I’m looking at the mirror behind you. Having two of you wouldn’t be too bad, actually.”
You rolled your eyes, thinking that he had meant that in some salacious way and turned back to the machine. The rest of your afternoon passed, after you left the arcade you stopped by a cafe for drinks and you noticed Sylus was still staring at you much in the same way he was back at the arcade.
You were used to Sylus staring at you but there was something off about it. Usually when he stared it was because he had something dirty on his mind. It usually meant the second you were alone he would be crowding you against the nearest flat surface. But you didn’t get that from him today. He looked almost wistful, a small serene smile on his face.
You gave his leg a tap under the table. “What are you so smiley about?” you asked. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No. Just thinking about something.” he leaned back in his chair, giving you one more complete glance over and nodded. “Yes. I think that will do very well.”
“What are you talking about? Do I get to know?”
He only smiled. “Remember when you told me to imagine waking up to two of the same plushies every morning?”
“Yeah…I think I see where this is going.” Either this was going to be a sex in front of a mirror request or possibly a desire for more plushies. You had a feeling you knew which one he was referring to though. “And I will say I am open to it.”
His eyes widened slightly. “Really? I only just decided to ask and you’re already on board?”
“It’s not like it’s that big a request. I feel like I’ve done far stranger things, especially with you.” you shrugged.
“Not a big request? And what exactly have you done that is stranger?”
“Well I’m not going to talk about that in a cafe.” you said. “Isn’t this something that should wait to be discussed at home?”
“We can, of course. If that would make you most comfortable.” he was grinning even wider, “There is a lot more to discuss about it that we are going to need to get into.”
“How much more could there possibly be?” He was being very intense about a mirror kink.
“A lot more. Like when you want to start trying, what kind of doctor do you want to go to, how is living arrangements going to work? Are you moving in or were you going to be adamant about keeping your own apartment? Do you want us to get married first--”
“Whoa! Whoa! WHOA!” you held up your hands. “What in the world are you talking about? What does any of that have to do with this?”
Sylus paused, his brow furrowing. “Sweetie, what do you think I’m talking about?”
“I mean, I thought you were talking about--you know--” you leaned in closer, your voice a whisper so not to be overheard by anyone else “having sex in front of a mirror? Two of me. That kind of thing.”
Sylus snorted, his shoulders shaking slightly as he held in a laugh. “What? What’s so funny? What were you actually talking about?”
“Oh my beloved,” he sighed, taking your hand over the table. “When I said two of you I meant a mini-you.”
“A mini-me? Like a doll? Why would you--” it finally dawned on you what he meant. Your face heated as embarrassment flooded in. “Oh. I see. A mini-me.”
“Finally get there, did you?” he cocked his head at you. “So, what do you think?”
“I mean…” you didn’t know how to respond. “Just to make sure I’m not misinterpreting again. You are talking about…”
“Getting you pregnant and starting a family. Yes.” Sylus nodded.
“Got it.”
“Now that you know what I was asking you don’t seemed at all enthused about it.”
“I mean, I don’t know how to respond to that out of the blue. It came on so suddenly and while I would like to be a mother one day I guess I didn’t expect it to get brought up quite like this. Usually when people decide to have kids it’s something they do after they get married. We’ve only been dating for a little over a year now. Are you sure you want to have a kid with me? God forbid we break up one day we’re still going to have an entire person connecting us.”
“Bold of you to assume I’d ever let us break up.” Sylus said. “I’m afraid you are stuck with me, sweetie.”
“And bold of you to say we’re stuck together when you haven’t put a ring on it.”
“Do you want me to? I will. We can go down to the jewelry store and buy a ring right now. Depending on how big of a ceremony you want we can be married by the end of the day. Then again, if we do get married I’d like to make a spectacle out of it complete with you in a pretty white dress I get to tear off after the reception.”
“Sylus!” you hissed, hiding your face behind your hands. He always talked so brazenly with you about his desires. It flustered you to no end when they were just carnal desires but this sudden need of his to marry and impregnate you was a thousand times worse. You could barely look at him. Everything he said was too open. Too honest. It made you self conscious thinking about how sincere and direct he was being.
“What? Is it embarrassing to love you? Is it embarrassing to let you know exactly what I picture for us? Since meeting you, this has been what I’ve dreamt of one day having. And today, when you mentioned two of something I realized I didn’t want to wait any longer. I want that life with you. Say you want that life with me too.”
“I…I…” everything screamed in you that this was moving too fast. You did love him but marriage? A child? You didn’t even live together and he was proposing things with a much bigger commitment right now!
Sylus could see you fumbling for an answer and sighed, the light in his eyes dimming a bit. “It’s a lot to ask all at once. I see that. Take all the time you need to respond.”
Wow. Okay.
You finished at the cafe and you started making your way back to your apartment with Sylus. The ride back was quiet. You were thinking about a lot. You knew that you definitely loved Sylus and the idea of marrying him and having a family with him one day was something you wanted. His offer didn’t scare you for that reason. You were in this relationship for the long haul. It was the fact that it all just got put out there so quickly.
Usually when girls get proposed to they can sometimes see it coming. Their partner tells them to go get their nails done, they plan a really romantic date out of nowhere, you get to dress up in something super pretty and nice. All of it to make sure the moment is a picturesque as possible. Sylus dropping that he wants to get you pregnant and then basically proposing in the middle of a cafe after you confused his wants for mirror sex was not how you would have ever imagined this happening!
It was a lot to take in. And maybe you should have been more scared by the idea. But the longer you sat with the question you realized you already knew the answer. You wanted to spend your life with Sylus. You wanted to create a life with him, both metaphorically and literally. It was daunting to think about but it didn’t scare you.
You pulled up to your apartment and you invited Sylus up. Once you got inside you kicked off your shoes and pulled Sylus closer, pushing yourself to your toes to loop your arms around his neck and kiss him. He didn’t miss a beat and kissed you back softly.
“Yes.” you said when you pulled back.
“Yes?” he repeated. Eyes searching your face, “Tell me what you are saying yes to, sweetie.” his grip on you got a little tighter.
“I want to marry you.” you smiled brightly, “And I want to start a family with you.”
A small breath of relief left him and he rested his forehead against yours. “You had better mean that.”
“I do.”
“Perfect.” he closed the distance to kiss you. You melted into his embrace as he kissed you over and over. The moment you ran out of breath and pulled back to breathe he was pulling you in again. Your knees were losing their ability to keep you standing and Sylus placed his hands on your ass and hauled you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Care to start trying now?” he asked. You were still standing in the living room but he was waiting to point you towards the bedroom.
“You want to start right now?” you asked, breathless.
“Why not?”
Maybe it was the emotion of the afternoon or maybe you were hormonal but you ended up nodding. “Okay.”
He started turning towards the bedroom. “Say it, sweetie. What do you want?”
Your face heated again. “I want to start a family with you. I want you to put a baby in me, Sylus. And I want to do it now.”
He carried you back to the bedroom and laid you down on the bed. Considering everything you knew about Sylus and past experience in the bedroom you expected something hard and feral. You had just told him to put a baby in you. You thought that he was going to tear your clothes off and bend you into a mating press for the rest of the night. You were surprised when he stepped back and slowly started peeling out of his clothes.
You started to take off your own clothes but Sylus stopped you. “Let me do that, sweetie.” he pulled the shirt off over your head. You watched as he carefully helped strip you out of your clothes, pressing small kisses to each new inch of skin that was revealed.
“You’re so beautiful.” he whispered, staring at your naked form. “I can’t wait to see you pregnant. Can’t wait to see you swell up with our kid.” he ran a hand along your stomach. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me today, sweetie. Happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”
“Sylus…” you reached out to cup his face. “I love you. I love you so much.”
He bent closer to kiss you again. “I love you too.”
While maintaining the kiss his hand slid between your legs and started playing with your pussy. He teased your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. He swallowed your moans the moment they left your lips. Instinctually your hips moved up into his touch. He used the heel of his hand to hold your hips down.
“Stay slow, kitten. I want to savor this.” he murmured against your lips.
He pushed a finger into your heat, drawing more sweet moans out of you as he began to help stretch and prepare your body.
Knowing that you were currently having sex with the intention of getting pregnant was surreal. It felt like any other encounter you had but pleasure was not the only goal. You were going to create a life together. A whole new person, one made up of a little of you and a little of him was going to be in the world. And then you just had that new person for the rest of your lives. You’d be parents. You were going to be in charge of raising a kid.
How was raising a kid even going to work with your lives? Sylus was the leader of Onychinus and lived in the N109 zone. He wasn’t going to leave but you also didn’t want your kid to be deprived of Linkon blue skies and a normal life. There was so much more for you to think about that you hadn’t considered.
“I would love to know where your mind has gone when I have a hand between your legs, kitten.” Sylus said, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“Sorry. I was just thinking about how we are going to raise this kid once they’re born.” you said.
“We haven’t even attempted to get you pregnant and you’re worrying about that already?” Sylus scoffed. “At least I know you’re not thinking of backing out if you’re thinking about all of that.”
“I can’t help it. I want our kid to have the best life but also a normal one. Do you think they can have that in the N109 zone?” you asked.
“For our child, I’ll make anything possible.” he cupped your cheek. “Now, do you want to start?”
You nodded. “Yes. Please.”
Sylus smiled and kissed you again. He withdrew his hand and lined himself up with your pussy before slowly pushing in. Twin breaths of satisfaction left you as he sunk in. He stayed close to you, his body pressed on top of yours as his hips rolled against yours. It was such an even and steady unhurried pace. You couldn’t believe it took you till now to realize that he wasn’t just having sex with the intention of getting you pregnant, he was making love to you.
He wanted this first act of you two coming together to make a baby to be done with love, not just lust. No matter what interaction past this got you pregnant, this was your first honest attempt and it was done with nothing short of unending love and adoration.
“Can’t wait to get you pregnant,” Sylus panted as he steadily drove into you. “I’m going to lock us away and fuck you every day until I know you’re knocked up. Fuck, I want to put a baby in you. I want to knock you up so damn bad, kitten.” his pace got a little faster as the need for release drew closer.
“Sylus! Please!” your nails scratched into his back. “I want you to. I want you to knock me up. Please!”
“Fuck kitten!” he groaned, biting into your shoulder. “You’re gonna be so damn pretty all big with my kid. Gonna fuck a baby into you and then I’m gonna put another one in you and another. I want to have as many babies with you as I can get!”
Good god above. How many kids did this man expect you to pop out?
“You’re gonna be such a good mom to our kids.” he lathered hot wet kisses along your throat. “And I’m gonna make you my wife. Our whole lives are ahead of us, and we’re gonna spend them together just like this. Happy, in love, and fucking each other senseless.”
“Yes! Please Sylus! I want it! I want it all!” your legs were locked tight around his hips, wanting to keep him as close to you as humanly possible.
“Come for me, sweetie. I want you to come when I get you pregnant.” he pressed a finger to your clit, rubbing it furiously to help get you there.
“Sylus!” you moaned, nails digging into his back as you came. Blinding little white dots danced before your vision as you came. A buzzing warmth vibrated from the tips of your toes to the ends of your hair. Sylus gave one final thrust into you and stilled as he came inside you, breathing heavily and moaning your name.
You loosened your grip on him and rubbed your hands along his back. “Sylus…” your head was foggy in the aftermath.
“Right here, sweetie.” he pressed a kiss to your temple. “How do you feel?”
You smiled, pulling him down for a proper kiss. “Amazing. I think we actually made a baby today.”
“I hope so.” he touched your stomach. “But, it can never hurt to be thorough.”
“You are insatiable.” you rolled your eyes.
“Only because it is you, beloved.” He pulled out and laid down next to you, one of his hands still resting on your stomach. “I already can’t wait to meet our little one.”
~~~
The next month was filled with nothing but you and Sylus having sex so you could get pregnant. It didn’t really matter that you were sure you had gotten pregnant that first day you started trying, Sylus wanted to make sure your pregnancy was a certainty. He also loved the excuse of locking you up all for himself.
You hadn’t told anyone about your plans yet. No one outside of you and Sylus even knew that you were trying to have a kid. Except maybe Luke and Keiran but that was because Sylus had already set them on the task of baby proofing the mansion. He never said baby proof but suddenly telling the twins to do stuff like sand down table edges to not be sharp and put covers on unused electric outlets was a bit of a tip off.
After a month of constant sex though you decided to go out and buy a pregnancy test. You weren’t feeling any symptoms yet but you were too impatient to find out if it had happened yet or not. You had bought an assortment and took them home. After a long time in the bathroom and what felt like an even longer wait you had the results.
Positive. All of the tests in their own way said the same thing. You were pregnant.
You were pregnant!
Oh god you were pregnant. It was actually happening. It wasn’t just a fun little roleplay in the bedroom. It was real. There was an actual life growing inside of you.
You immediately grabbed your phone to tell Sylus then put it away. This was an in-person announcement. You sped over to the N109 zone as fast as you could and pulled up to the mansion. You knew at this early an hour Sylus would still be asleep but you couldn’t wait.
Luke and Kieran were in the living room moving a bunch of breakable objects to higher shelves. “Hey there, what are you doing here so early? Boss man is still asleep.” they said.
“I know but I have something important to tell him.”
“Oh thank god,” Luke sighed, “Does this mean we can hang out here when you both are here again? We don’t have to keep ourselves busy outside while you’re going at it?”
“I knew you two knew what was going on.”
“It was fairly obvious. Do you think boss man would be having us redecorate like this just for the fun of it?” Kieran said. “Congratulations though.”
“Thanks. But remember, if Sylus asks you two don’t know a damn thing. I told him first, got it?”
“Yes ma’am.” they gave little salutes and you skipped down the hall to Sylus’s room.
You opened his door and found him asleep as the twins had said. There was too much excitement in your body. You closed the door behind you and sprinted for the bed, throwing yourself across Sylus’s lap. He woke with a start, automatically grabbing you before realizing that it was you and not any kind of threat. He let out a sigh and rested his head back against the headboard.
“Sweetie, I was sleeping.”
“I know. But I figured you would want to know that I was pregnant as soon as possible.”
His eyes snapped open again, staring at you. “Repeat that for me.”
“I’m pregnant. I took a bunch of tests and they all came up positive.” you took his hand and placed it over your stomach. “We’re having a baby.”
He rolled you under him and kissed you then pulled up your shirt and kissed your stomach. “Sylus!” you laughed, his kiss tickling you slightly.
“It’s actually happening,” he murmured, resting his head on your stomach. “We’re actually going to have a child in a few months.”
“Yep.” you ran your hands through his hair. “I’m a little scared but mostly excited.”
“I cannot wait to meet you, little one.” he spoke to your stomach. “Don’t worry, you have a wonderful mama who’s going to make sure you grow into a healthy baby and daddy is going to be here to make sure she has anything she wants.”
“Anything I want? Really?”
“You’re doing something incredible. Of course I would do anything for you.” he looked up at you. “I just have one favor to ask in return.”
“A bigger favor than grow an entire human?”
“Move in.” he said. “I don’t want to miss a moment of this. Move in with me, please.”
“But what about all my stuff and my apartment? I can’t just break my lease.”
“I’ll take care of your apartment and we have more than enough room for all of your stuff.” Sylus assured you. “What do you say?”
“I mean, it had to happen sometime.” you shrugged with a smile.
And so you moved in with Sylus. He sent the twins to your house to pack up and move your things out. It was strange to just pick up and move but it was also strange to just in an instant decide you were going to become a wife and mother with the leader of Onychinus as your husband and father of your child.
Moving in when you did turned out to be a good move because soon after everything had been moved over the pregnancy symptoms started up in earnest. You were tired, your boobs hurt, you learned morning sickness was something that hit at every hour of the damn day and not just mornings as the name suggested. In a word, it was miserable.
Thankfully Sylus was very attentive to your needs, rubbing your back and making sure you had water to drink after you threw up, making sure you wouldn’t be disturbed whenever you needed a nap, and massaging the aches out of your body. He had told you to go on maternity leave but considering you were only in the first trimester of your pregnancy you didn’t see the need to take off of work just yet. However, you did need to let them know that you were now expecting.
That brought on a lot of questions from your co-workers as to how far along you were and who the father was. At this point everyone kind of knew that you had something going on with Sylus, or they knew him as “Skye” the fruit seller. Some were shocked but others were excited and looked forward to being able to throw you a baby shower.
It was a lot going on. Your body was changing, you moved, everyone at work was looking at you differently now, it felt like a lot to navigate and the stress was tarting to get to you. One day you had called off of work because you were just too damn tired to do anything. Your body ached all over, you woke up crying because you missed hearing birds in the morning, Sylus’s shampoo smell was making you gag, and you had a sudden craving for the most artery clogging cheesy corn dogs you could find.
You were lying in bed, curled in a tight ball quietly sniffling. Sylus had tried to comfort you but you snapped at him and now he was gone. You missed him even if he smelled bad. You wanted him back. You rolled to your other side and stared at the bedroom door. “Sylus?” you called out. “Are you out there?”
The door opened but you were disappointed to see the twins and not Sylus. “Hi, boss man stepped out a while ago to pick something up. He’ll be back soon.”
“He didn’t tell me he was leaving.” you muttered, fresh tears brimming in your eyes. “Why didn’t he tell me? He always tells me when he needs to go.”
“Uh…” the twins looked at each other, not knowing what to do. “Can we get you anything? Boss man told us to get you anything you needed.”
“I want Sylus.” you shimmied under the covers, hiding yourself from view so they couldn’t see you break down.
You could still hear the twins outside talking. “You have to call him.”
“Me? Why do I have to be the one to call him and tell him his baby mama is having an emotional breakdown cause he left?”
“You think I want to do that?”
“Rock paper scissors for it.”
“No. Just call him.”
“You call him!”
“Both of you get the fuck out!” you snapped from under the covers.
“Sorry!” they shut the door and disappeared. You felt a little peck at your head and groaned, rolling away from Mephisto. You had forgotten that damn bird was still here. He landed on your shoulder and pecked you again.
“Go away! Leave me alone!” you tried to swat him away.
“He’s just trying to get your attention, sweetie.” You heard Sylus’s voice. You bolted upright, scaring Mephisto off of you. You looked around but saw no sign of Sylus. That’s when you realized his voice was coming out of Mephisto.
“Mephisto can take calls now?”
“Think of him more like a baby monitor.” Sylus said. “He alerted me that you weren’t doing well and wanted me home. Don’t worry, I’m pulling back up to the house now.”
“Where did you go?”
“I went to pick up some food for my tired and hungry girlfriend.” he said. “Be with you in a second.”
You waited a minute and sure enough Sylus walked in with a large take out bag in his hands. It smelled heavenly. “Miss me?”
You nodded, holding out your arms. He set the food down and collected you in a hug. “Sorry I didn’t mention I was leaving. You didn’t seem keen to see me and I thought I’d be back before you wanted me again.”
“I was fine…” you muttered, embarrassed by how needy you were being.
“It’s fine that you weren’t. I like that you want me around.” he kissed the top of your head. “Do you still want cheesy corn dogs? I bought a lot from that one food truck you love.”
“Oh my god, yes!” you were salivating already.
Sylus handed you the bag full of hot and fresh cheesy corn dogs. You scarfed down three in record time, the cheese and carbs hitting in a way that made you moan as you ate. “Can I eat just these for the rest of my life?”
“Oh, I think you may end up craving something new in a week so we’ll see how long it lasts. But for now you can have whatever it is you want.”
You wiped some of the grease from your mouth. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier.”
“It’s alright.” he bent his head closer. “Is this a better shampoo? I showered again to wash it out.”
“You didn’t need to do that.”
“You didn’t like the smell of the last one so I got unscented shampoo and used that instead. I also put in an order for some birds that we can keep nearby so you can hear them sing in the mornings like you’re used to.”
“Oh my god, Sylus.” you rolled your eyes. “You didn’t need to buy an entire aviary of birds. You could have just put bird songs as an alarm or something. Buying actual birds to keep in the house is crazy.”
“I like to think they can also keep Mephisto company.” Sylus shrugged. “The house could use some more cheer anyway.”
“My collection of plushies didn’t already do that?”
“This is your home now as well as mine. Whatever you want it to be, we will have it made. Gut the entire house and remake it as your own if you wish. I’ll only ask that I keep the vault as it is now.”
“I’m not gonna gut the entire house.” you leaned against him. “Well, maybe one room. We still need to figure out where we’re going to put the nursery.”
“Ah, I’ve actually already thought of that.” he stood up. “Care to come take a look?”
You took his hand and he led you a little bit down the hall. One of the rooms that you knew had just been a guest room had been cleared out of everything and the walls repainted to a blank white. “I was waiting for you to mention the nursery so you could pick out whatever furniture you wanted to decorate it with. I also didn’t know if you wanted to wait until we knew the gender to go shopping so I’ve been putting it off. But we have this room and it’s not too far from us so we’ll always be close by when they need tending.”
You looked around the blank room, “It’s perfect.”
Soon enough it was time for your first ultrasound. You were excited and a little nervous. This was the first time you were going to actually see your baby. And despite Sylus saying that the doctor’s in the N109 zone were just as good as any Linkon doctor you insisted on going to Linkon for your appointments.
You laid back on the exam bed and rolled up your shirt to expose your stomach. At this point in your pregnancy they said you’d be able to see the baby, hear their heartbeat, but gender would still be a few weeks away. The cold jelly was applied and the technician moved the wand around for a moment before finding the baby.
“And there they are.” the technician turned the screen to you to see. On the screen was a blurry little blob in the shape of a bean. Your baby.
You gripped Sylus’s hand tighter, tears gathering in your eyes. “That’s our baby.” you said breathlessly. “Oh wow, there really is a baby in there.”
“Yes there is.” the technician laughed. “Feels a lot more real now, huh?”
“Yeah.” you let Sylus wipe the tears from your eyes. “Oh wow. I didn’t think I’d get this emotional.”
“It’s perfectly normal, especially for first time moms.” the technician said. “How are we feeling, dad?”
“They’re perfect.” Sylus said.
“About as perfectly healthy as an eight week old bean could be--oh.” the technician paused and moved the wand around some more. “Well then, hello to you too.”
“What? What is it?” you asked.
“Your baby has a roommate in there.” the technician pointed out on the screen. “Baby one, and just over here, baby two.”
“Baby two?” your mouth dropped open. “I’m having twins?”
“Looks like it. Congratulations! Since you are carrying twins there are some more details to go over for multiple fetus pregnancies.”
“Uh huh…” you turned to Sylus. “Twins. We’re having twins.”
Sylus’s smile threatened to split his face in half. “This is amazing.”
“Of course you’re excited, you don’t have to push out two babies at once.” you continued to stare at the screen. “Oh my god.”
After the initial shock wore off the technician found the heartbeat for you and that was when the emotions of the day started to bubble over. You started sobbing hearing those steady little thumps over the monitor. Two strong healthy heartbeats for two tiny little beans. When you looked over at Sylus you saw that he was crying too. You hadn’t expected him to get so emotional over this as well but it was comforting in a way. He was just as excited for this as you, probably more excited honestly.
You got your due date from the doctor and your follow up appointment made and a copy of the ultrasound picture before leaving. In about seven more months you were going to have not one but two babies. Sylus was over the moon. The second you returned home he had put the pictures in a scrapbook he had bought to catalog your pregnancy and happily announced to the twins that they were not going to be the only twins in your life anymore. Luke and Keiran were ecstatic hearing the news that you were having twins and gave you huge hugs.
Time kept moving ever forward and you were growing larger and larger as the babies grew with you. You were officially into the second trimester and you looked it. Carrying twins made what would have already been a big pregnancy belly even bigger. It was also at this time that you learned what exactly you were carrying. You had debated keeping the gender of the babies a surprise but knew you were too impatient for that.
Girls. You were carrying twin baby girls.
“Guess you really are getting a mini-me, huh?” you said when the doctor announced the gender to you.
“Not just a mini-you. A pair of mini-yous.” Sylus said, his smile brighter than the sun as he stared at the screen. “What was it you had said a couple months ago at the arcade? ‘Two little cuties together are definitely twice as adorable.’ I believe it was.”
“Yeah, I think that was it.” you sighed. “I didn’t think when I said that it would lead to us actually having two little cuties though.”
“Winning that plushie was the best thing that could have happened that day. It led to all this.” he kissed you soundly. “
Sylus had already been a little over protective of you when you were just carrying one baby but now that he knew you were growing twins he was getting to be a little overbearing. He wanted you to rest as much as you could and to just focus on growing the twins but you were getting bored just sitting around all day.
Eventually you were able to convince Sylus to let you go out shopping for furniture for the nursery. He was more than happy to take you to the most expensive baby store in the city and told you to ignore price on everything and just get whatever you wanted. You rolled your eyes but didn’t try to fight him on it. You wanted the best for your babies after all. You certainly weren’t going to say no to a very nice but stupidly expensive recliner to put in the nursery either. You had a feeling you were going to be in it a lot and you wanted it to be as comfy as possible.
It was as you were looking at cradles, debating whether to get connecting ones for the twins or not that you felt something in your stomach. It was strange and you weren’t sure what you felt until it happened again. It was little and fluttery and you realized with a start that the babies were moving! You could feel them moving!
You paused, a hand over your swollen stomach as you let yourself focus on the fluttering inside.
Sylus noticed you stop and immediately concern etched into his face. “Something wrong? Are you feeling sick? Do we need to go home?”
“No. Nothing’s wrong.” you assured him with an easy smile. “I just felt the babies move for the first time and it caught me off guard.”
“They’re moving?” Sylus gasped, touching a hand to your stomach.
“I don’t know if you can feel them from the outside yet.” you told him. “But they are definitely kicking around a lot in there from what I can feel. It feels really fluttery, like I have actual butterflies in my tummy.”
“Our little butterflies growing in their cocoon.” he said, rubbing your stomach affectionately. “Make sure you grow even stronger girls, daddy wants to be able to feel you kick too.”
“Not too strong, I don’t want them bruising my insides or each other.”
“A little sibling rivalry is good but yes, keep in mind not to hurt your mother when you move around my little butterflies.” he said.
You smiled, your eye catching a spinning mobile. The charms on the mobile were colorful butterflies that spun around while a soft lullaby played. “I think I have an idea on what kind of theme to make the nursery now.”
By the end of the week Sylus had the nursery walls painted to resemble a beautiful flowering garden. The furniture you had picked out was being assembled by the twins and arranged around the room per your instructions. You had even gotten the ceiling painted to resemble a brilliant blue sky with fluffy white clouds in various fun shapes. It didn’t matter if the N109 zone wasn’t like Linkon, your kids could have a beautiful blue sky and garden from the comfort of their room.
It was all coming together so perfectly. With each passing day the house was looking more like a home safe for babies to crawl around in and you were one day closer to being parents.
You were lying in beed one evening as you entered your third trimester. Sylus was next to you talking to the twins since they decided to stay awake all evening and not let you get any sleep. Seems they were taking after their father’s nocturnal habits.
“And remember girls, your mother is going to say that I can’t sing but you need to know that she is wrong. I am a perfectly capable singer and she’s just jealous, that’s why she doesn’t take me out to karaoke anymore.”
“Don’t listen to him girls, he is actually tone deaf.”
“Stop contradicting me in front of the children.”
“Stop lying to them then.”
“I’m not lying.”
“You are tone deaf though. It’s actually kind of amazing.”
Sylus frowned, whisper conspiratorially with your stomach. “I’m going to let her think she’s won but in truth you two know the truth. Daddy can sing.”
You gave Sylus a nudge with your foot. “Be glad it takes too much energy to sit up so I can’t properly chastise you.”
“If it keeps you here in bed where I know I can keep an eye on you and the kids then I will plenty glad of it.” Sylus scooted back up the bed next to you. “Getting close now, how are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling like I’m about ready to pop. I think if I plug my nose and you blow into my mouth the girls will just pop out of me. Can we test it?”
“I think it’s best to let them pass organically but I can accommodate part of your request.” he leaned forward and kissed you.
“Sylus, can I ask you something?”
“Anything?”
“If my body doesn’t snap back to what it was like from before the twins, will you still think I’m beautiful?”
His brow furrowed. “How dare you think I would think you were less beautiful for anything. I don’t care what your body looks like, kitten. Right now you are the most beautiful I have ever seen you. Your body is swollen with our children. You practically glow from the inside out. And after you have the kids you will still be the most gorgeous woman in all of creation. Never doubt that. In fact,” he whistled to Mephisto and the mechanical bird flew off to grab something out of a drawer and came back to deposit it in Sylus’s hand. “I think now is the perfect time to give you this.”
He held out a small velvet box to you. You opened it to find the most beautiful ring you had ever seen inside. “Is this…?”
“I meant what I said, beloved. You are the most beautiful and amazing woman that has ever been. You fill every day of my life with joy and light and music. From the moment I met you I knew that I wanted you to not only be my wife but the mother of my children. Now that our kids are nearly born I think it is about time I make this official as well.” he took the ring out, “Will you marry me and be my wife?”
“Yes. Of course I will!” you nodded, tears in your eyes.
He slipped the ring on your finger and kissed you again. “You make me the happiest I have ever been every single day.” he murmured against your lips. “After the girls are born we can start wedding planning?”
“You don’t want to get married before they come?” you asked.
“We can, but I’d like it if we could have them in the wedding pictures. Not that I wouldn’t love to see you as a pregnant bride but I think having them dressed as little flower girls would be far cuter. What do you think?”
“I think I like that idea.” you looked down at your stomach. “Hear that girls? After you’re born you get to be flower girls in mommy and daddy’s wedding.”
The girls had finally stopped kicking around for the night so you didn’t get any kind of answer back. But at least you could go to bed now. You looked at the ring on your finger and looked back at Sylus. “I love you, my fiance.”
“Fiance,” he tested the word on his tongue, “I like the sound of that. And in a couple months after the girls are born and we’ve had time to settle into parent life I’ll be able to call you wife.”
“Fiance. Wife. Mother. I’m collecting a lot of new names.”
“That reminds me,” Sylus said, “We still haven’t talked about what we are going to name the twins.”
“Oh fucking hell…”
~~~
Sylus was away. He had a business deal that he needed to go see and no matter how much he tried to get them to do it remotely the seller refused adamantly that it could only be done in person. This was a problem for Sylus in many ways, the first and biggest being that you were now three days past your due date and he was very anxious about being apart from you.
He was about to cancel the whole thing but you had assured him that if the twins hadn’t popped out already the chances they were going to come during the twenty four hours he wasn’t home wasn’t going to happen. So with much nagging from your part, and a little honesty about needing some time alone to relax without his hovering, he left.
That was the first mistake. The second mistake was deciding to take a trip over to Linkon without anyone there to assist you. You were in the supermarket looking at snacks when you felt a powerful and painful cramp that made you drop the bag of chips you were holding.
“Oh no. Oh no no no no no no no no no!” Was that a contraction? Please no! You couldn’t go into labor while Sylus was gone!
Maybe it was just Braxton Hicks contractions. There was no way the babies were coming right after you assured Sylus that there was no way it was going to happen while he was gone. No way!
You tried to bend over and pick up the chips but your belly wouldn’t let you so you just kinda left them there on the ground and grabbed a fresh bag from the shelf. You were standing in the checkout line when another contraction hit, just as intense as the last. Shit!
“Ma’am, are you alright?” the friendly cashier asked.
“Oh, I’m fine. I think.” you breathed through the pain. “But I may be having contractions.”
“Oh dear, do you need us to call an ambulance?”
“No. No, I’m sure it’s fine. Thank you though.” you grabbed your groceries and took them out to the car.
You sat down inside the car and cursed. These were not Braxton Hicks. They were too powerful to be fake. You were actually going into labor. You were going to give birth today. And Sylus wasn’t fucking here!
“Oh he is going to kill me.” you started the car. You were only a short distance from the hospital so it didn’t make sense to call for an ambulance or anything like that.
As you were driving over you got another contraction. The time between them felt like they got a lot shorter. You cursed and hit the call button on the car. “Call Sylus.” you said.
There was a single ring before Sylus picked up. “Hello sweetie, what are--”
“The babies are coming.” you cut him off.
“Are you serious?” his light tone immediately sobered up.
“Yes. I started having contractions and I’m on my way to the hospital now.”
“Okay. I’m leaving now I’ll be there as soon as possible.” you heard someone in the background say something followed by a single gun shot. “Tell Luke and Kieran to get you there safely and--”
“Actually I’m driving myself. I left Luke and Keiran back at the mansion.” you winced.
“You--” he sighed. “Right. Fine. Be careful. I’ll be there soon. Try not to give birth until I get there.”
“I’ll do my best. Sorry for making you leave. If I hadn’t insisted--”
“You thought you had more time before the babies were coming. It’s alright, kitten. I’ll see you soon, I love you.”
“Love you too.” you hung up as you pulled into the hospital.
You were immediately taken back to a room and changed into a hospital gown. Thankfully the doctor said that you were still a ways off from being ready to deliver so Sylus had time to get over but it didn’t make the experience any less frustrating. You were in pain, you were alone, and you were also really hungry but the doctor said you couldn’t have anything other than like ice chips since you were birthing twins.
You were laid up in bed, your water had broken an hour ago and your body was getting steadily closer to being ready to deliver. The doctor had just checked how far you were dilated and you were still not at the ten centimeters you needed to be but you were getting close.
“Girls, you gotta listen to mommy.” you told your stomach, “You have to wait until your dad gets here to come out, alright? Please just hold on until your dad gets here. Please. He’ll be heartbroken if he misses this.”
Just as you were saying that the door to your room burst open and Sylus scanned the room before his eyes landed on you. “It hasn’t happened yet, has it? I didn’t miss it.” he asked.
“No. You’re just in time.” relieved tears started streaming down your face. Sylus came up and kissed you.
“Sorry for taking so long, I got here as fast as I could. Are you alright?”
“Outside of the fact that my body is preparing to push two babies out of my vagina, I’m doing pretty good now that you’re here.” you pressed your sweaty face to his arm. “Can you clean up first though? You’re kinda covered in blood.”
“Shit.” he cursed and went to the bathroom to wash the spatter of blood off of him.
The labor was long and painful but with Sylus by your side it made the pain bearable. You were glad he was so strong considering anyone lesser may have had their hand broken by how hard you were squeezing. It was the greatest joy and relief when the screams of babies filled the air in the delivery room.
“And there they are, two perfectly healthy baby girls.” the doctor and nurses wiped them off and Sylus cut the umbilical cords. Once the babies were clean they handed them off to you. Their cries quieted down in your arms.
“Hi babies,” you sniffed, trying to catch your breath. “You are the most precious things in all of creation.”
“They are absolutely perfect.” Sylus stroked one of their downy heads. Tears were falling from his eyes. You rarely ever saw Sylus cry but the birth of your daughters was a more than worthwhile excuse to let go. You yourself had been crying since you started pushing.
“The new little loves of my life,” Sylus said, bending closer to kiss the babies and you on top of your heads. “You will want for nothing.”
“Don’t go spoiling them rotten already, they literally just came out of me.”
“I can’t help it. They are my little princesses, they deserve to be treated as such.” he turned to you, “And you did such a good job, sweetie. How are you feeling?”
“Exhausted, but happy.” you nuzzled your face against one of the twin’s heads. “We’re parents now.”
“That we are. Now we can plan the wedding and get started on having even more kids.”
“For goodness sake, the babies aren’t even an hour old yet and you’re already talking about pumping me full of more? Give me some time to breathe at least.”
“Right. I know.” he sighed, taking one of the twins into his arms. “This has been the best day of my life and all I want is for it to keep going on forever.”
“But now the best part comes, taking them home.”
~~~
The first couple of weeks were the most chaotic with the new babies in the house. The day you brought them home you introduced them to Luke and Kieran who started bawling over them. It was actually really sweet. Sylus had even introduced Mephisto to the babies.
“These two are your number one priority from now on, Mephisto.” he had told the bird. “Watch them like a hawk.”
Mephisto squawked indignantly at being compared to another bird but followed diligently when you took the twins back to the nursery.
One evening you woke up in the middle of the night. Ever since the twins had been born your sleep schedule had been messed up and getting through the entire night in one go was hard. You sat up and noticed that Sylus wasn’t in bed. That wasn’t so strange since he did a lot of business at night but he had said he was refraining from deals and auctions until the babies were a bit older.
So where was he?
You got up and shuffled down the hall. Sure enough, he was in the nursery laid back in the recliner, both the babies fast asleep on his chest.
You waved at him and he gave a small nod of his head to show he saw you. You crept closer, careful not to make any noise. “Were they fussing?” you whispered as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake the girls.
“A little.” he whispered back. “But I sang them a lullaby and they went right back to sleep.”
The fact that Sylus’s tone deaf lullabies actually worked to soothe the girls back to sleep was baffling and infuriating. “You need some help getting them back in the crib?”
“No. They’re fine just like this. I’ll move them back to the crib when I’m sure they’re not going to wake up again.” he said.
“Meaning you just want to stay cuddling with them.”
“Also yes.”
“Well, I’m going to go abc to bed. Don’t stay in here all night, okay?”
“I won’t.” he said but you knew it was a lie. He’d move in here just to be that much closer to them every hour of the day.
~~~
As time passed and the twins grew life evened out. There were many late nights soothing their cries and days spent changing dirty diapers and teaching them how to sit up and crawl. Sylus spent as much time with them as he possibly could. It almost made you jealous seeing how absolutely obsessed he was with your daughters. But seeing him taking care of and playing with them only made your heart swell with affection. He was such a good dad.
Right now Sylus wasn’t around though. Right now, the girls sat with you in your bridal suite, dressed in their little flower girl dresses while you got dressed in your wedding gown.
“So, girls, how do I look?” you turned to the twins who burbled and tugged on their little tulle skirts. “Lyra, Opal, please. Can you look at mommy?” Typical of six month old babies, they continued to ignore you.
“Alright, time for first look with daddy. You girls ready?” you asked the twins. They kinda just looked around, not really understanding anything you were saying but they weren’t fussing or crying so you took it as a win. “Great! Let’s go show him how pretty we all look.”
You placed the twins in the little wagon that had been decorated to match the wedding decor and pulled them behind you out of the suite.
The photographer was going to do your first look first and then bring in the girls. You saw Sylus at the end of the hallway, haloed by afternoon light and wearing a crisp handsome suit. His hands were behind his back, fidgeting slightly as he waited. You could see him tense up when he heard you approaching.
You deliberately slowed your steps just to tease him a little more before tapping his shoulder. He turned around, tears already misting his eyes as he took you in. “You look…breathtaking. I actually get to marry this angelic woman?”
“You look very handsome as well. The suit is crisp.” you smoothed out his tie.
“Can I kiss you or would that ruin your makeup?”
“If it smudges I’ll fix it.” you wrapped your arms around him as he kissed you passionately. You pulled back with wide matching smiles. “You want to see the girls?”
“Yes. Where are our little princesses?” his eyes lighted even more.
You turned around and motioned for the staff to wheel your babies over. “Oh there are the rest of my girls.” Sylus said, stooping down and hoisting either child on his hips. “You look so pretty in your little dresses. My precious little flowers.”
“Look at the little booties they have on. Isn’t that the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?” you wiggled one of their feet to their tiny sparkly shoes.
“They look every bit as beautiful and perfect as their mother.” he kissed both their heads. “To think, that after today I not only get to wake up to these two every morning but next to my wife as well.”
You stood there, watching your soon to be husband coo and fawn over your daughters as they giggled and tugged on their father’s expensive new suit. This was everything you had ever dreamt of having. It wasn’t a dream though. It was real. This beautiful life you were living was all yours. You glanced down in the wagon and saw a pair of hearts plushie that you had won at a claw machine over a year ago nestled inside. It had been wore down by the twins in recent months but seeing it, even with its stains and slightly misshapen stuffing filled you with joy.
You looked back at Sylus and the girls. Even all this time later you could remember what brought on this beautiful life. Two little cuties together are definitely twice as adorable. And you knew it was true.
“Ready to go get married?” you asked Sylus, taking one of the girls from him.
He smiled, taking your free hand. “As ready as I have ever been.”
#love and deepspace#lads sylus#lads mc#sylus x reader#sylus x mc#this is my most self indulgent fic ever!#I literally had to force myself to write an ending and not just let it continue on forever
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DARK SIDE OF THE MOON ♡
pairing: redk!clark kent x fem!reader x soulless!sam winchester
summary: your boyfriend sam has been acting strange lately. good thing your other boyfriend clark is willing to help you figure out what's going on with him. unfortunately for you, he doesn't get very far before he starts acting weird too.
cw: nsfw (18+), au, smut, mild dubcon, threesome, p in v, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, facefucking, overstimulation, praise/degradation, hints of asphyxiation kink
a/n: comm for my wife @fearcvlt. thank you to the anon who infected us with the sam-clark disease 🙏 also i know sam doesn't lose his soul till season 6 but it's my fic so this is early seasons sam. don't like it kiss me about it.
Sam has been acting weird lately.
You’re not sure what it is. You can’t pinpoint an exact detail about him that’s shifted. From the surface, he looks the same. He still dresses the same. His voice sounds the same. His hands and mouth feel the same. It drives you crazy, not being able to narrow down what you mean. What you know has changed.
Because while the alterations are imperceptible, you know they’re real. All of that stuff hasn’t changed on a technical level, but to you, his girlfriend, someone who knows his very being like the palm of your own hand, it’s not the same.
Physically, he’s your Sam. The one you’ve been with since your second semester of college. His dark brown hair hangs too close to his eyes like always. The warmth in his hands radiates with regularity as they coast across your and Clark’s bodies. His words reach your ears in the soft, calculated manner you’ve come to expect from him.
But you swear on everything you have in this world, on both your lovers’ lives, that all of this comes with a new note of unfamiliarity.
While his appearance hasn’t changed, the way his eyes land upon your face has. His gaze feels cold. It nearly stings when it connects with your own. You may recognize his touch, but he’s rougher now. He doesn’t handle you like a cherished doll, nor does he explore Clark with his usual reverence. Instead he tugs and he grabs. His fingers dig into flesh harder than ever before. Scratches and bruises litter the two of you after a night spent together. And while his voice rings out just like it did when you met him in your first criminal justice class all those years ago, the tender embellishments in his sentences have vanished. Vacant silences lie where sweetheart and honey used to appear.
You sound like a lunatic describing it.
“Can’t you just talk to him?” you plead with Clark for the third time this week. You attempt persuasion by flaunting your puppy eyes at him, but he just shakes his head.
He stands before the full length mirror in the corner of your bedroom while pulling on his shirt. The hazy morning light shines through the nearby window onto his physique, highlighting the contours of muscle decorating his abdomen before they’re covered up by the scarlet sweater he chooses to wear today.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, baby,” he responds, gazing at you through the reflection.
You boost yourself off your mattress where you’d been sprawled out. Approaching him from behind, you snake your arms around his waist and press your cheek to his firm back. He doesn’t have to face you to know the pout that’s taken residence on your lips.
“Well, I can’t think of everything,” you huff, “Just maybe see if something’s wrong. Like maybe we did something and we don’t know-”
“You’re overthinking,” he cuts in while fastening his belt into place.
“You don’t know that because you’ve never actually asked. Maybe he feels like he can’t tell us what’s bothering him for some reason. Or it could be like a guy thing. He blows me off whenever I try to help, so maybe he’ll be more comfortable with just you,” you insist.
He sighs and shakes his head again, reaching for the brush nearby. Clark’s hair rarely ever falls out of place. The only moments you can recall seeing him disheveled are those when he lays in bed with you and Sam, nude body coated in a light sweat and pressed against each of yours. Yet he tends to his black tresses more often than you take care of your own hair.
“It’s not a guy thing,” he chuckles, “He just doesn’t wanna talk about whatever’s going on in his head. You know how he gets sometimes. I’m sure he’ll bounce back soon.”
“But it’s been like over a month. Ever since he went on that trip with his brother, he’s been weird,” you continue, squeezing him as if that would somehow convince him of your point.
“You know his childhood is a sore spot. Maybe being around him brought up some bad memories,” he offers and shrugs.
“But he would have told us about that,” you refute.
You release Clark from your hold as he turns around, his outfit all ready for the day. As you look up at him, your eyes remain full of concern for the absent part of your trio. Your present boyfriend smirks at the worried expression before cupping your cheeks and planting a soft kiss on your lips.
“It’s gonna be ok, babe. He’ll be ok,” he murmurs.
You nod. “Just if you get the chance… please talk to him,” you try once more.
“I will,” he agrees. His hands fall to your waist where they knead the flesh lightly.“Try not to worry too much today, alright? We got that party tonight. You’re gonna look all pretty, we’re gonna have fun, and everything’s gonna be fine.”
He kisses you once more before walking towards the bedroom door. You nod in response to his words and force your shoulders to relax. The mention of his work party you were all going to attend later helps a little to distract you. At the very least it gives you something else to think about for the time being.
Before he heads out, you blow him a kiss like you always do. He pretends to catch it, flashing those fangs of his in a lazy grin.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he says before finally leaving your view.
Despite your assurance to Clark, you spend much of the day thinking about Sam and possible causes for his perpetually sour mood. Unfortunately, you can’t think of anything that seems like a realistic possibility.
While your anxiety wants you to blame yourself, you really don’t believe something you did is responsible. And he had gone on that trip with his brother a month ago, but they’d been going on their ‘hunting trips’ pretty regularly for the last two years. He never got like this afterwards. Even when his brother annoyed him, he’d just vent about it to the two of you before letting it go.
You try to reason that law school might be getting more stressful. All of his free time not allocated to you and Clark, or to his brother in the Impala, goes to textbooks. He spends hours poring over notes and articles and journals. Maybe that’s it. You try to convince yourself it could be. At least until he and Clark come home for the night with hopefully a more concrete answer.
As the day shifts into evening, you busy yourself with getting ready for the party tonight. It wasn’t anything too fancy. Just some gathering the paper Clark now worked at was throwing. As a new hire, he was one of the employees being celebrated, warranting your and Sam’s invitations.
It’s around six-thirty when you finally hear the front door open. Two pairs of shoes shuffle in. Good. That means Clark met him on campus or Sam drove over to Clark's job after his last class. There would be plenty of time to talk over the course of the distance between your shared house and either of those locations.
You put your earrings back down on the dresser and approach the door, straining your ears in hopes of scoping out any tense silences or relieved chatter. In the kitchen, you can hear the fridge open and then close. A sigh. You narrow your eyes. Was it a sigh of tiredness from work or frustration at the other man? The words that follow answer your question.
“She’s just worried about you,” Clark says. You bite your lip, sensing this may not be going well.
“Yeah, I know. She doesn’t do a great job of disguising that,” Sam responds.
“Then just talk to her. It’s only still a problem because you’re being cagey.”
“I’m being cagey because there’s nothing to talk about. She’s looking for something that isn’t there, insisting-”
You step through the doorway and head towards the sound of their voices. Barefoot and with the zipper on your dress only halfway pulled, you enter the room to join them. Sam finishes his sentence as both his and Clark’s eyes set on you.
“Hi,” you interrupt weakly.
The taller of the two rolls his eyes while your other boyfriend raises his brows in acknowledgement before taking another sip of his drink.
“I just… heard you both talking and thought I should come in here…” you continue. It’s only been a few seconds, but already, it’s starting to feel like you should have waited for them to come to you.
You walk a couple more paces into the space, finding yourself standing equidistant from both your lovers. Your gaze alternates between them before focusing on Sam.
“I know I’m probably worrying over nothing. And I know you said nothing is wrong,” you say, keeping your tone as neutral as you can, “You just seem different. And maybe nothing is actively wrong, but I just want you to know if something happened or like if you’re thinking about something differently that me and Clark-”
“You’ll what? What will you both do?” he asks, “I don’t know what you want from me. Do you want me to make up some problem that doesn’t exist so you can feel accomplished when you fix it?”
“No,” you answer right away, hurt infecting your features.
“Then what?”
“I don’t know…” you say. Your resolve wilts away with each second his harsh eyes stare at you.
“Just stop then. Stop asking me to give you a reason, stop talking about me behind my back, just stop,” he rants, “Did you ever consider you might be projecting? That maybe something is different with you that you don’t want to accept.”
“What?” you ask. Your pained expression infuses with a bout of confusion.
“Think about it. Me and Clark, we know what we’re doing everyday. I’m going to school, he’s going to work. We have our plans in place. You? What are you doing? Ever since you graduated last year, you’ve been floundering, bouncing from idea to idea. Maybe you’re the one who’s fallen off the tracks, but you can’t admit it,” he accuses.
Your eyes widen. That statement cuts you deep, through multiple layers. It is the truth in a sense, but to have it thrown in your face by someone who supposedly cares about you hurts worse than you would have anticipated.
“That’s not true,” you deny.
“Yes it is, and you know it. You wanna blame me for how you’re feeling. You’re losing control of your own life so you want to find something you can fix,” he continues.
“Sam, stop,” Clark interjects on your behalf.
You just stand there, feeling even more lost than you had earlier. He was acting different. You were sure of it. But now you also feel like he maybe has a point. What if he is acting the exact same, and you’re the one losing your grip? Clark hasn’t been as concerned as you, and maybe that’s for a reason.
“What?” Sam says, his eyes flitting towards your other boyfriend, “She’s allowed to talk about me, but I can’t defend myself?”
“You’re not defending yourself, you’re attacking her,” Clark responds before sighing. He puts his drink down and walks closer to the both of you. “Both of you just need to take a second and calm down.”
In the pause that follows, the pain Sam’s words caused doesn’t subside. The throb only emanates from deeper inside your chest. You glance up at your darker-haired boyfriend before turning to the one you could barely recognize.
“I’m not trying to make you defend yourself. I really just feel like something’s been up with you lately. But if you say there isn’t, then there isn’t, and I won’t mention it again,” you finally say.
“There isn’t,” he tells you without more than a second of consideration.
Awkward quiet settles for more than a pause now. You’re not sure if you can just act normal after that, but you don’t want to create more tension by hightailing it to the bedroom. Both of them seem to go with the former. Clark meanders his way back to the counter while Sam turns and digs through his bag for something.
You decide it might be best to follow along. Swiveling on your heel, you walk away from the kitchen and down the hall towards your shared bedroom to finish getting ready. The silence no longer feels calm; it weighs down on you, pressing hard enough to crack.
As you dust powder across your cheek bones and eyelids, you force your breaths to remain even. You swallow hard to prevent your eyes from watering. The mascara wand coats your lashes with black that will stream down your skin if you shed any tears. For a final touch, you spread some sticky gloss over your lips, watching in the mirror how they shine with the glittery substance.
When your face is painted to your liking, you pull on a pair of tights under the crimson fabric of your dress and then sit on the edge of your bed to slip on your shoes. While fumbling with the one on your left foot, you hear another person enter the room.
Your pupils dart towards the door to find Clark there with a sheepish smile.
“Hey,” he starts gently, “You almost ready?”
You just nod, not really in a chatty mood.
He returns the gesture and comes closer, approaching as if you’re a wounded animal.
“You look really beautiful, baby,” he compliments.
“Thanks.”
“Here. Let me help,” he offers and crouches before you.
He takes your leg between his large hands, rubbing up and down over the smoothness of your tights for a moment. His fingers then fall to the sleek strap causing you hassle. He pushes the little piece of material through the metal clasp. Despite the size of his digits, they move with nimble precision.
“He didn’t mean that stuff he said,” he tells you, voice quiet enough that it wouldn’t leave the bedroom.
“Then why didn’t he come in here?” you ask. Your voice quivers a little bit. You know Clark hears it from the way his big, blue eyes lift to connect with your own.
“He’s just being pissy right now. But I know he didn’t mean it, alright? Neither of us think you’re off track, but even if you were, it’s not the end of the world. You still have time to figure things out. We love you either way,” he says, patting your leg.
Almost as an extra gesture of reassurance, he plants a soft kiss on your kneecap. It’s intended to be innocent. Something wholesome to let you feel the pure love he’s trying to pour into you with his words. But you can’t help but feel a flicker of desire in your belly. The sight of it only serves to remind you of how he does that when he’s spreading your legs apart and kissing up your inner thighs to somewhere much more intimate.
“He’ll come around. For the record, he is acting different. It’s not just you,” he reassures, reaching up to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger.
The look in your eyes has softened from one of hurt to something more tender. You nod in response, and he smiles.
“That’s my girl. Don’t look so sad anymore. I wanna show off how beautiful you are tonight. Can’t do that if you don’t let anyone see that pretty smile,” he praises.
Your face lifts with the expression he describes. It only increases the curve of his own lips. He rewards you with a small peck. When he pulls away, you can see a splotch of lip gloss on his cupid’s bow. It’s tempting to try and wipe it away with another kiss, but instead you take the more effective route and swipe your thumb across the skin.
“Ready?” he asks and reaches for your hand as he rises to his feet again.
You clasp your smaller fingers around his and stand up. “Almost. Zip me up?” you say and turn to show him the semi-closed fabric.
He chuckles fingers finding the zipper and adjusting it for you with ease. “Always.”
You stand with your back pressed against the wall, drink in hand, eyes surveilling the room. It’s only around nine o’clock, but you’re more than ready to go home. You keep a smile on your face for Clark’s sake, not wanting to look miserable around the people he has to see on a daily basis.
The party isn’t even horrible. It’s just fine. The ritzy hotel dining room they rented out is fine. The music playing at a reasonable volume in the background is fine. The food is fine. The drinks are fine. The smalltalk is fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. It’s all fine.
Including you. You’re fine too. Not at all upset about earlier. The car ride here had been dead silent. No apology from Sam. Not even a word of acknowledgement. But that’s ok! You could deal with it.
Once the three of you had arrived and made your way inside, you introduced yourselves like you always did, clear enough to convey that you were all a package deal but vague enough to not draw the ire of less open-minded people. From there, you let Clark tell some stories about the both of you. You made sure to laugh at all his jokes, smile at him with the most adoring eyes, and sing his praises to any person who wanted to hear them.
After a while of that, he turned you both loose. You first grabbed some appetizers and a drink and then landed where you are now. Sam had trailed close behind you even though he still wasn’t saying anything.
He’s beside you against the wall. His shoulder leans against it, his body angled towards yours. You can feel his eyes drifting along your figure, but you don’t give in to the temptation of a response.
“You gonna freeze me out all night?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Do you plan on apologizing at all?” you ask, passive aggression lacing in every word.
He exhales a laugh and reaches for your face. His fingers guide your head, forcing you to look at him.
“Is that what you need, baby?” he mocks, “You need me to say sorry?”
You scowl and try to look away, but his digits dig into your skin. He keeps you right where he wants you. Leaning in close to you, his breath fans across your neck.
“Would it really make you feel better if I said I didn’t mean it? Would it really change anything about how you feel? I don’t think so,” he murmurs, “I think you’d like it more if I kissed it better.”
The low tone of voice combined with his proximity fires up that warmth in your tummy you felt earlier. You try to suppress it and maintain your glare.
“What are you doing?” you ask with annoyance, craning your neck for some space.
“What? I thought you’d wanna make up,” he says.
“I- It’s not that. We’re at a party for Clark’s work. It’s not like we’re high schoolers who can just go find some closet to make out,” you huff, “Plus, you definitely are acting different now. You’re always the explainer, and Clark is always the one who wants to kiss things better.”
That brings a small smirk to his face. “We can’t? Or we shouldn’t?” he teases. He moves in again, the tip of his nose brushing your cheek. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have been a little different lately. But why is that a bad thing? I feel great.”
“Yeah, but it’s not great when you’re being mean all the time now…”
“Mean? Or direct?” he asks, “I’ve never said anything to hurt you. Even when you think I’m being mean, I’m only speaking without sugar coating because I know you can take it. And I know that sometimes you need to hear it. You’re strong. Just as smart as me and Clark. You just need a little push sometimes.”
Your heart beats quicker in your chest. His words are one thing, but the way his rich eyes peer into yours are another. His thumb drags back and forth across your bottom lip now, almost as if coaxing some form of a response.
“It’s still mean even if you don’t intend it that way. It still hurts,” you say. Even if your face can’t move, your eyes fall. “I miss the you who wasn’t so sharp all the time.”
You soften your words, hoping to break the tough exterior that had shielded him for the last month. Though you see no change in his expression. No shift in his gaze.
“You’ll have to learn to love this one just as much then,” he replies.
It stings. The words slice like a blade. He doesn’t care about the falter on your face though. He ducks in, kissing along your jaw to your earlobe. A small gasp leaves you at the soft, wet touches. You squirm in place, nearly spilling your drink as the liquid sloshes within the confines of the glass.
“I can show you how. Just gotta let me,” he whispers. His hand falls from your face to your neck, wrapping it in a seductive embrace.
Your eyes flutter, and for a split second, you want to give in. His lips on your skin feel like traces of heaven. The soft words he speaks hit your ears like gentle caresses lulling you into compliance. But then you remember where you are and who you're here for.
“Sam, stop,” you whimper.
But he doesn’t pull back. He doesn’t just stay in place either. His hand tightens around your throat. It digs in a little, pressing you against the wall. You can still breathe just fine, but the threat of air loss is right there, teasing you just barely.
Your eyes widen now. Sam had never been so aggressive in the bedroom before, let alone in public.
“We’re here for Clark. You’re gonna embarrass him,” you remind.
“He’s a big boy. He can handle it,” he breathes.
Before you can squeak out any more words of protest, a large hand is curling over Sam’s shoulder and tugging him back. Clark looks at him with a raised brow before his focus shifts to you.
“I guess you two made up?” he asks.
You open your mouth to clarify with some version of what actually happened, but Sam cuts you off. “Something like that.”
He takes you by the wrist, spinning so that he’s against the wall while you’re in front of him with your back against his chest. His chin rests atop your head as his hands rub your arms. Clark looks on, almost suspicious at the complete flip in attitudes.
“So how much longer do we have to be here? They’ve already played ‘Mr. Brightside’ like three times. This thing’s gotta be winding down soon, and I’m pretty eager to get back so we can make up some more,” Sam says.
“Not too much longer,” Clark says, the words slow and edged with uncertainty, “I’ll start saying goodbyes.”
You nod gratefully, your appreciation shining through even without words. Sam smirk prevails on his face yet again.
“Sounds good. Just don’t take too long or we might have to get a head start without you,” he says. His tone indicates he’s teasing, but with how he’s acting, you wouldn’t put it past him to try something like that.
“I won’t. Just give me a few,” Clark responds simply before drifting back into the crowd to say bye to the important people.
He keeps his word and only takes a few minutes. If he had taken any longer, you aren’t confident you would have noticed. You feel like you have whiplash from the way Sam has latched himself onto your body. Earlier he spoke like he couldn’t stand you, but now he clings to you like he’d be willing to bend you over one of the nearby folding tables and bring some real excitement to this party.
You try brushing him off, redirecting his hands to places that wouldn’t earn you side eyes from your boyfriend’s colleagues. He’s not interested though. Every few seconds it feels like he’s nuzzling into your neck or smoothing his hands over your sides.
“Sam, quit it,” you whisper.
“Why? I don’t need Clark’s hearing to know how fast your heart is going. I know you like it,” he purrs.
The best you can hope for is guiding him to the exit and letting Clark meet you there. When the man in question finally does make his way in your direction, you can see a bit of frustration on his face. Annoyance gleams from his eyes as they sweep over how Sam holds you like a territorial dog with a chew toy.
You want to apologize. You hate when Clark isn’t happy with you, and you really don’t want to end the day having fought with both of them. But before you could get any words of remorse out, Sam’s already leading you through the front door. He keeps a tight grip on your wrist, now allowing you even an inch to pull away.
Clark follows along. His hand lands on the small of your back. The faint touch grounds you a little, but before it can have any real effect, Sam’s yanking you closer, nearly causing you to stumble over the steps that lead you three into the parking lot.
The confusion that permeates your mind has now spread to Clark’s face and replaces his prior irritation.
“What’s gotten into you?” he asks, trailing behind in broad strides.
“What do you mean?” Sam laughs. He turns around, holding you close again once in range of the car. “You got the keys?”
Even though he does in fact have them, Clark makes no move to fetch the small metal keys from his pocket.
“No, seriously. What’s going on with you? One minute you’re ready to bite her head off for worrying about you, and now you wanna jump her bones in the middle of a parking garage?” he says, not letting up.
“I can’t win with you two. She doesn’t like it when I’m being serious, you don’t like it when I’m not. What’s a guy supposed to do, huh?” he says.
“It’s not like that, and you know it,” Clark challenges, “You have been acting weird lately. I let you deny it because I know what it’s like having to keep something to yourself. But pretending like it isn’t happening does nothing, especially when it’s affecting us.”
You stand there with Sam’s arm over your shoulders, looking back and forth between them. It’s not even an argument yet, but with a few wrong words, it would have no issue transforming into one.
“Please. You didn’t care how it affected me and her when you kept your secrets for years. So spare me a lecture,” Sam dismisses, “I don’t have some great secret. People just change over time.”
“Not so rapidly!” Clark fires back, “You went away for one weekend, and a different person came back.”
“I’m still me,” he says, “If you have such a problem with the person you think I’m becoming then maybe I’m not the only one we should be evaluating. Maybe something’s changing between all of us.”
You look at Clark with pure worry now. He hasn’t outright said it, but these words border on the worst potential outcome. Reaching for his hand that dangles off your shoulder, you give it a squeeze and gaze up at him.
His attention shifts to you. He smiles at the nervousness written all over your features.
“Don’t look so scared, baby. We’re not gonna break up. Unless that’s what you two think would be best,” he says. It’s almost a threat. He puts the power in your hands, but it’s not by choice. He’s not offering it to you. He’s forcing it between your palms and pushing your fingers to close around it.
“No,” you respond instantly.
“You know that’s not what I meant,” Clark backs down, his voice dropping a bit.
“Then what did you mean?” Sam asks.
“I just want to know why. Why are you acting like this now? You used to be the reserved one. The one who was always careful about everything. You kept me and her on track. Now, you’re in there acting like a high schooler and making me look like an idiot, being all over her like that.”
“All over her?” he repeats with a chuckle. His arm slithers off your shoulders, leaving your skin exposed to the chilled night air. He takes a few steps towards your other boyfriend. “You jealous, Clark? Because as soon as we got home, you know I’d be all over you too.”
He scoffs and looks away. Truly, you doubt jealousy had been the root of Clark’s discomfort. You would’ve been irritated too if they started getting handsy in front of people you wanted to make a good impression on. But it was hard to not get flustered when confronted so directly. When Sam stalked forward like that.
The brunette slides to Clark’s side and maneuvers himself behind him. His hands flatten against his muscular biceps, rubbing the skin softly through his suit jacket. You watch as his lips brush the shell of Clark’s ear in the same way they had to yours.
“C’mon. You know I don’t play favorites,” he coos.
Your darker-haired lover has his eyes fixated on the car beside you three. You knew the feelings coursing through him right now. The same ones that swirled within you fifteen minutes ago.
Sam’s long fingers move South on Clark’s arms. The tips coast over his elbows and along his forearms before getting to his wrists. You know the exact sensation. Like little lines of fire being drawn across your limbs. Similar to you, Clark goes to resist. He just has the actual strength to carry it out.
He pushes Sam’s hands off and looks over his shoulder. “We’re gonna talk about it. You can’t keep avoiding it and expecting us to just go along with this forever,” he says.
Sam smirks at the assertion. He lets Clark move him away. You notice one of his hands slip into his pocket, but before the act can even register, it’s back out and reaching for your other boyfriend’s wrist again.
“We will talk about it. But not tonight,” he says.
The beginning of a disagreement begins to leave Clark’s lips. But the hand that had reached for his cuts his statement short when it flexes and spreads a thin band over his wrist. Clark looks down at it while you observe with confusion. But then you see a sparkle of red.
Your pupils dart back to Clark’s face. You watch as his eyes flicker with that same ruby color. His shoulders rise, and his chest puffs out with innate pride. He doesn’t have that sweet, lopsided grin; now his lips look sinister and menacing as they curl. You don’t even have to ask what it is. You recognize that look. You know the effects of red kryptonite.
“You’re such an asshole!” you explode at Sam. You step towards him, practically shoving Clark behind you. “Why would you do that?! You know he hates that stuff!”
Your arm swings forward, smacking at his chest. He just laughs and dodges your weak blows. “Calm down. He’ll be fine. I just wanted to help him unwind for the night,” he says.
You go for another strike, aiming for his bicep this time instead. Before your limb can connect, two strong arms have looped around your waist and tugged you back against a firm body.
“He’s right,” Clark chimes in. His chin hooks over your shoulder as he nuzzles into your neck, planting kisses there that make you squirm. “I was letting you get me all wound up. Just needed to take the edge off.”
Without responding, your hands fly to his wrist, desperate to get the bracelet off for him. You’d only seen Clark under the influence of this stuff once before. You really weren’t eager to relive the experience.
But he’s quicker than you. He slides his arm away and spins you around to face him in the process. No longer does your boyfriend have his usual look that likens him to a carefree puppy. Now you stare into the eyes of a wolf.
“Clark-” you start and grab for his wrist again.
He laughs and lifts his arm in the air, dangling his hand a foot over his own head. Much too high for you to reach. Still, you jump and try to pull it down by his elbow.
“That’s not my name you know,” he teases.
You stop jumping and glare at him. “I’m not calling you Kal,” you say flatly, “Give me that. You’re not yourself when that stuff is on you.”
“I’m more myself like this than I am any other time,” he disagrees.
Sam comes up behind you and places his hands on your hips. “Come on. Don’t spoil the fun before it’s really started, babe,” he taunts.
“Get off,” you shoo and shoot him a harsh look as well.
None of your efforts have the intended effect though. Nothing you do intimidates either of your boyfriends whose frames dwarf your own against the side of the car.
“So angry,” Sam mocks. He ducks in and kisses your cheek while Clark grabs your chin and makes you look at him again.
“We just gotta find something that calms you down. You need to let loose sometimes. You’re always so worked up and high strung,” Clark says. He strokes your jaw as Sam brings his mouth down to your throat. He starts laying kisses there, the affection more intense than it had been inside the hotel.
His soft lips glide across your sensitive skin. He licks your pulse, scrapes his teeth over the thumping artery. Your breath hitches. They both can hear it. You know that from how Clark’s smile grows that much more smug.
“You know it feels good,” he coos. He leans in, teasing you with the idea of a kiss. His mouth hovers not even an inch from your own. The warmth of his breath puffs against your skin. With the slightest move the two of you would be touching.
“I can feel how bad you want it,” he murmurs, “So why not give in?”
“It’s not like you could get away anyways,” Sam whispers.
And you know it’s true. You can’t do anything they don’t want, especially not something Clark doesn’t want. They’re bigger and stronger. With Clark’s heightened senses, there’s no hope of hiding either. You know the smart decision here is to give in. To give in and then wait for an opportunity to get that bracelet off him.
However, you can’t even say this is a choice based solely in logic or survival instinct. You want Clark’s lips on yours. You crave more touches from them both. While your rational mind hates these versions of the two of them, your body doesn’t care. Your skin breaks out into chills while your heart rate speeds up all the same.
“You’re gonna regret all of this later,” you whisper to Clark, letting your eyes fall to his plush lips.
“Maybe. But I’m not worried about that. I’m living right now,” he responds.
He closes the gap between the two of you. A soft moan creeps up your throat, escaping against his mouth. You feel him smirk. The sound encourages him to deepen the kiss.
Sam presses closer behind you. He pulls your ass flush against his pelvis and kisses your neck some more. It’s like a flurry all around you. If any of Clark’s coworkers were leaving the party now, this sight would only add to the embarrassment Sam and you caused earlier.
None of you are thinking about that though. You’re completely wrapped up with each other. Your hands have found their way into the dark locks on either side of you. The left one grips Clark’s while your right extends back and tugs on Sam. Heavy breaths blow against your face from multiple angles. Large palms grope at the different curves of your body.
Clark reaches down into his pocket. His fingers fish around for a few moments before pulling out the small set of keys Sam asked about earlier. He pulls off your lips and tugs you to his chest away from Sam.
“You drive,” he says simply, sliding the metallic object into the other man’s hand.
Sam huffs out a laugh. “Seems like you’re more eager than me now.”
He doesn’t resist or argue though. Instead, he taps the unlock button and slides around the back of the car to head to the driver’s side. At the same time, Clark opens the door to the backseat and ushers you in with a pat to your ass.
“You had a taste of her in there. Now it’s my turn,” he grins.
The drive home was a quick one.
It felt like a right turn, a left turn, and then the car slowing as Sam parked it in the driveway. Clark had made good on his words. He took his turn with you. The entire time his hand was up your skirt, his fingers beneath the thin cotton of your panties, drawing little whiny moans from you.
When the vehicle finally came to a full stop, Sam cleared his throat to alert you and Clark. They spoke back and forth a bit, but their specific words eluded you. Before your mind could come down from the high Clark was working you into, they were hauling you inside.
Clothes came off along the way to the bedroom. Clark’s jacket pooled on the floor in the entryway. Your red dress decorated the bannister. Sam’s belt hung around the bedroom door knob.
Now they have you spread before them on the bed. Your panties have abandoned you like the rest of your outfit. You lie bare for their eyes. At the foot of the mattress, they finish undressing themselves. Sam’s in the lead, his fist already stroking his cock while he stares down at you. Beside him, Clark finishes shimmying off his trousers.
“Think it’s my turn again,” Sam says before getting on the bed with you. He takes hold of one of your ankles, pulling the limb aside to spread your legs.
“We can share now. I’m not feeling too patient,” Clark adds. He follows right along with the other man’s movements.
Grabbing your other leg, he pushes it farther away from the other as he crawls towards you. They both descend upon you in sync. With their broad frames, it’s a tight fit, but they manage to both position themselves at the junction of your thighs.
Clark looks to Sam with a big smile across his face. “More fun when we do it together anyways.”
Sam hums in acknowledgement. He stares into those round, blue eyes for a moment more before rotating them to focus on your glistening center. You’re thoroughly slick from Clark’s fingers in the car and all the attention they lavished on you in the parking garage. Two of his digits spread you open. They both gaze at your drippy entrance, your poor swollen clit.
“You don’t even need a warm up tonight, sweetheart. You’re soaked from a few touches,” Sam mocks.
“It was more than a few,” you whimper in defense of yourself.
“Either way… be grateful we’re so nice, willing to give you all this extra attention,” he continues.
“Yeah, especially when you were being so bratty earlier. Talking back, carrying on,” Clark adds.
You whine softly and squirm your hips in an attempt to speed along the teasing. Even with your pouty denial, you know how bad you want them. These words only add to that needy sensation in your belly.
“So desperate,” Sam croons in a low voice.
Luckily for you, Clark doesn’t say anything back. He must have been honest about feeling impatient because instead he just leans in and connects his mouth with your cunt. A sigh bursts from your lips and you tilt your head back against the pillows.
He boosts your thigh over his shoulder and holds it like some sort of handle. His lips kiss your clit a few times, mashing the little bud with their delicate, smooth surface. He then sticks his tongue out and drags it through your arousal. The tip of it sweeps up over your velvety folds and swirls around your button.
Your back arches off the bed. Sam grabs your thigh closest to him and takes it on his shoulder as Clark had done. He turns his head, trailing some kisses over your inner thigh. They start innocent enough, chaste pecks at the most. But as they get closer to your center where Clark is, they grow sloppier. You feel his tongue gliding around in figure eights before his lips engulf the saliva-traced flesh.
When he finally reaches your pussy, you whine loudly. Your eyes flutter, and your heels dig into their backs. They keep you pinned in place, not allowing you to squirm too much or to buck your hips in excitement.
“Good girl,” Clark breathes in a husky tone before sucking on your pulsing clit.
A sharp squeal comes from you. Your toes and fingers curl at the sensation. In the meantime below, Sam prods at your leaky hole with his tongue. At first, he uses broad strokes. He flattens the muscle against your desire-soaked entrance, lapping without shame or hesitance. You moan appreciatively, nice and shameless just how you know they like.
More juices seep out of you as they work you up. That combined with their spit has you thoroughly soaked between your legs. It doesn’t bother them in the slightest. You can see the shimmer of your essence on Clark’s jaw. His eyes are shut, his features relaxed as he showers your tender nub with attention. Sam’s head nods as he licks. It bobs lazily, his nose occasionally bumping Clark’s jaw. He also sports a peaceful expression. It’s the first one on him you’ve seen on him in weeks. He isn’t annoyed or tense or bitter. He’s just lost in the bliss of how good you taste.
Soon, fingers start to get involved. Sam brings his long, slender digits up to slither their way inside of you. He moves his lips North to get more room for them. Clark moves ever so slightly to accommodate him but not by too much. He’s close enough that his nose can still brush against his skin. Close enough that he still feels the occasional swipe of his tongue against his own.
You feel release boiling in the pit of your stomach. Sparkling bursts of ecstasy fizzle from there through all your limbs.
“You gonna cum, baby?” Sam rasps. He pumps his fingers in and out faster, curling them against your clenching walls.
“Mhm,” you force out. Your eyes screw shut while you nod, your head wagging rapidly.
“Go ahead, honey. Cum for us. Show us how good you feel,” Clark hums. He flicks his tongue at your clit just as quickly as your head moves above.
In a matter of seconds, you shriek. Your thighs quiver against the sides of their heads. You roll your hips into the pleasure while clutching at the sheets. Sam’s fingers dig harder into the malleable flesh of your leg. Clark latches his lips onto your bundle of nerves and works you through the high.
At the point where you would normally start to come down, they still haven’t let up. Sam’s fingers don’t recede any. They stay snug in your cunt while Clark continues to make out with your center. You whine. Your hips now buck with the purpose of getting them off. The motion doesn’t achieve that though. They stay right where they are.
“Clark-” you squeal for the main offender. Your eyes roll back and ragged pants of air puff from your lungs. You grab at the two mops of hair between your legs. “Sam...” you whimper with desperation.
Your pleas go unanswered at first. Clark chuckles while Sam grins against your leg. The latter continues to thrust his hand between your thighs.
“What’s the matter?” Sam croons, his brown eyes gazing up at you.
Words tangle up into a needy whine. You bite your lip to suppress the noise before attempting to reply with the sentiment you know they anticipate.
“It’s too much. Too sensitive,” you mewl.
As expected, they only look at you with patronizing smiles.
“Too much?” Clark repeats mockingly, “It’s not too much. You can take it. Can’t she, Sam?”
“She can take it,” the man to his left affirms before redirecting his words at you, “You know you can, baby. You know you like it. You just can’t help yourself. You always need something to whine about.”
“I do not! Ah-” you say, cut off by your own moan.
It’s the feeling of one of Clark’s thick fingers joining the couple of Sam’s that are already inside you. Your toes curl at the minor stretch you feel. It’s nothing compared to the times you’ve taken both of them at once, but still, it brings slight discomfort.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” Clark praises as you lose yourself to the moans.
They both duck back in and work with their mouths again. The tips of their tongues brush against one another as they lap at you. Clark moves in impossibly closer, angling his mouth slightly to the left. It leaves him more open to Sam. It gives him easier access to the other man as well.
Sam knows it’s on purpose. This isn’t coincidental positioning. Clark can be just as needy as you. He just has an aversion to acting so openly pathetic about it, especially with red kryptonite on him.
His head drifts a little more inward, bringing their mouths even closer together. Sam doesn’t hesitate before taking the leap. He tilts himself towards Clark. His tongue slides out against your cunt, but this time it makes full contact with the other man who moans at the warm, wet caress and reciprocates in full.
Your head pops up at the needy sound leaving his throat. You watch with lust-lidded eyes as their tongues tangle with each other against your folds. Their mouths are still touching your skin. The focus has just become split, flowing to all three points of your triad.
It helps to ease the sting of overstimulation that had been nipping at you. You’re able to actually make the descent back to a normal state of arousal. Reaching towards them, you lazily stroke Sam’s hair. You brush his bangs back from his warm forehead before swapping over to Clark and combing your fingers through his tresses that have become damp with sparse drops of sweat.
As they feel your touch, they become more focused on each other. It’s as if more subconscious parts of their minds understand you’ve been attended to. You’ve been sated. You’re not going to get up and leave, so it’s ok to play with each other a bit.
Sam’s the one to deepen the exchange. He draws his fingers that had gone still from the warmth of your cunt. They land on Clark’s shoulder, sliding up to the nape of his neck to pull him closer. Your other boyfriend doesn’t need to be told twice. He moves in for more, his nose bumping against Sam’s. Their breaths grow louder. You can hear every desperate inhale.
A low hum reverberates from Sam’s throat as Clark pushes him back on the bed. He kisses with the same overeager tenacity of a pup desperate for attention from its master.
Sam crumples on his shoulder, letting his back rest against the blankets beneath the three of you. You rise on your elbows and sit up, readjusting your legs. Your eyes trail over their nude bodies. They catch on the way Clark ruts himself against the crevice between Sam’s hip and the mattress. Sam’s flushed length stands stiff between their bodies, oozing the first beads of pre despite being untouched for the most part.
You’re only left neglected for a few seconds more. Sam manages to guide Clark’s lips down onto his neck. He then tilts his head back and reaches for your wrist.
“Don’t think we forgot about you,” he says with a small tug.
You follow along with the direction and scoot closer. Clark’s still got his mouth attached to Sam’s neck, kissing and licking at the curve of his throat. The recipient of the touches sighs at the dull sense of bliss it brings. Clark grinds himself harder against the bed, letting out a strangled moan before lifting his head.
His eyes are drooping with desire too now. The blown out pupils flit from Sam to you.
“We couldn’t forget about you, baby,” he adds, his mind seemingly just catching up with the words your other lover said.
Grabbing you by your waist, he drags you over Sam’s body and gets you flat on the mattress under him. You can feel the heat of his length against your thigh. Sam sits up beside you and strokes your cheek with two of his long fingers. He studies you for a few moments, looking at you with such intensity. Even in the heat of the moment though, you know he’s different. His normal reverence is absent. There’s hardly any affection in his gaze. It feels empty in a sense. As if his actions are guided by pure carnal need.
“I’ll let you have her pussy, Clark. Think her and I need to make up with something closer,” he says as his thumb pulls your mouth open by pressing on your bottom lip.
The plan receives no argument from Clark. It probably would have had he been the one resigned to your mouth, but he had no protests about getting to fuck you.
“Sounds good to me,” he grins and moves to kneel between your thighs. He tugs you closer by your hips, getting you in the position he wants. “You ready, princess? This won’t be too much for you?”
It’s not said with genuine concern. You’re sure the result would be the same regardless of if you nodded or shook your head. His tip is already nudging at your hole, more than ready to be inside.
You feel his cock sink in and split you open in time with Sam pushing his thumb further into your mouth. A moan bubbles up from you before you close your lips around the digit and suck. You shut your eyes too, allowing the physical sensations to overtake you.
Clark works himself in inch-by-inch. To your surprise, he doesn’t jerk himself all the way in, but he doesn’t go slow either. His desire rolls off him in waves. It’s only a matter of seconds before his tip is kissing your cervix and the thin patch of dark hair above his cock is pressed to your pelvis.
Sam pushes down on your tongue with his thumb. You continue sucking. Having it there soothes you in a way. It staves off any remnants of overstimulation, gives you something to focus on besides the thick cock stretching you apart.
But then he removes it. You whine. Moments after it leaves you, Clark draws his hips back and then slams in again. Now he’s set on picking up the pace. You don’t get a break. He doesn’t take a while to figure out a rhythm. He pounds back and forth, already settling into the one he likes.
Sam is rising up next to your head too. Before you realize what’s happening, he’s tapping the head of his dick on the seam of your lips. Your eyes lift to his face, which looks down at you with a condescending smirk.
“Open up, baby,” he purrs.
Obediently, your lips part. He thrusts himself inside with the same force Clark used on your cunt. You screw your eyes shut to try and repress the urge to gag. He chuckles up above, though it sounds distant to your ears. Being full of them on both ends spreads your senses thin. They try to keep up with everything happening, but they can really only catch the most intense pieces. Everything else blurs into a flurry around you. Clark’s needy grunts, Sam’s satisfied hum, the wet squelches coming from your core. All of it mixes together into a hazy bluster.
Sam’s cock drags over your tongue. It’s much heavier than his thumb. Warmer too. You suck on it all the same. You don’t use too much force or bob your head more than necessary. Even if his personality had been different as of late, you know what affects him on a physical level no matter what. You swipe your tongue over that specific vein and press up on the sensitive ridge that makes him buck. He hisses as you’re able to get him going with only a few small maneuvers.
“Fuck, you’re good at that,” he grunts. His hands land on either side of your head and hold you in place. “It’s much better when you’re using your mouth for this instead of all that worrying.”
As he grips your skull and begins rocking his hips back and forth, Clark rabbits himself harder into you. His fingers dig into you with such force, you’re sure you can feel the bruises forming on your skin. Normally, Clark was more conscious of his strength. He made sure to never pull too hard or hold too tightly. But when that little red stone sits strapped around his wrist, all concern for those kinds of things leaves his mind. All he cares about right now is the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock.
“She’s so fucking tight. Like more than usual. Thinks she likes us better like this,” Clark moans as he continues fucking into you with fast, needy strokes.
“Yeah? That true?” Sam huffs. He thrusts forward and drags your head all the way down on his cock.
In place of an answer, you gag. One set of your fingers claws at the bedding while your other clutches one of his thighs. He holds you in place for a moment. You can’t breathe. Your heart pounds with panic while your pussy squeezes extra tight around Clark. You hear him whimper at the sensation. It sounds far away, fading almost.
You blink slowly. Your head jerks a little. It’s not a conscious choice. Just the natural survival instinct that drives you to fight for air. You don’t receive it at first. Sam keeps your throat full for a few seconds more before pulling out and allowing you to suck in a breath.
You cough at the sudden influx of oxygen. A few droplets of spit spew forward and flank his v-line. He pets your head, stroking you in a way that seems almost caring.
“Such a good girl,” he praises, “You didn’t even move that much. Kept nice and still like you’re supposed to.”
“Of course. She knows just how to take us,” Clark agrees.
“I guess that’s true,” Sam says, thumbing at your cheek before sliding his cock between your lips again.
He’s not as forceful this time. You don’t stop breathing as you suck and lick at him. He keeps his thrusts pretty shallow. One of his hands rests on the top of your head, maintaining contact without grabbing you.
Simultaneously, Clark’s cock throbs inside you. It aches with the urge to spill. His balls that slap against your ass feel tight, more than ready to drain into you.
Sam can tell he’s close from how hard he’s panting. He doesn’t say anything, just watches. His eyes linger on Clark’s hips as they lose rhythm. They buck against you, sputtering as the rush of release creeps up on him. Sam can feel it approaching for him too. He tilts his head back and lets his eyes fall shut. His hand stays firm on the top of your head, using its position for leverage to start thrusting with a little more fervor again.
You whine around his cock. The faint vibrations only serve to coax Sam farther along. Things feel more blurry for you than it does for either of them. While they feel the clear signs of their impending orgasms, yours arrives suddenly. It explodes within you, snapping like a taut rubber band. Your body twitches and spasms. You feel the urge to arch your back and buck your hips, but you’re stationary for the most part between them.
Clark cums after you. He bursts with a sharp groan. His hips slap against your ass, jerking you upward. He maintains the same firm grip he’s had the whole time. You feel the thick, warm ropes flood you in a few spurts. It feels good, relaxing in a way to know the end is near.
Then your attention is swept up by the man occupying your mouth. Another hiss zips through his lips before you feel the sticky heat of his spend hit the back of your throat. You swallow every drop. It’s not like you have much of a choice. He doesn’t pull out or give you any room to do anything else but accept it.
He holds himself there as his length twitches and then softens. When the pleasure has reached its zenith, he finally begins to slip himself out. A thin string of saliva hangs from your lips and the head before he falls from his knees and sits beside you. He watches as Clark slides out too. Unlike the man by your upper half, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he collapses on top of you.
His body heat seeps into you, his weight crushing your smaller frame. He nips at your neck. “See? It’s so much more fun when you’re not so tense, baby,” he breathes.
“Mhm,” you hum and let your eyes shut.
Sam sinks down next to the pair of you in bed. He doesn’t speak for a couple minutes. Wordlessly, he observes the way Clark holds you beneath him.
“You are much cuter when you’re tuckered out like this,” he says, his voice low and quiet.
You tilt your head against his shoulder and keep your eyes shut, a gesture to show that you’re trying to doze off. Your main hope is that they’ll follow suit. Luckily that seems to be the case as they remain quiet. You hear Sam’s breath even out beside you. Clark stays still on top of you, pressing a lazy kiss to your skin every so often, but it’s not long before you can feel those puffs of air become deeper and more steady.
Once you feel semi-confident they’re both asleep, only then do you open your eyes. As carefully as you can, you shift slightly and reach for Clark’s arm. You keep your movements slow so as to not wake either one of them. When you have his muscular limb held up enough, you hook your fingers around that bracelet and pull. With a little force, it pops free. You don’t know if it’s real or imagined, but you swear you feel his muscles relax.
From your spot on the bed, you toss it towards the closet. The farther it is from Clark the better. You suppose you should probably try to hide from Sam, but for some reason, you don’t feel like he’s set on using it again. Getting it off was pretty easy. Maybe he planned on you doing exactly this from the moment he slid that thing onto your other boyfriend.
Either way, you shut your eyes. You won’t let yourself sleep, but you can at least rest for right now. You and Clark could deal with Sam later. With one of them back to normal, you could figure out how to do the same for the other.
#au: sam & clark 🤸♀️#sam winchester x reader#clark kent x reader#sam winchester smut#clark kent smut#spn smut#spn x reader#smallville x reader
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The answer to legend’s eye color would be ‘yes’ (four conspiracy theorized too much and completely missed the obvious answer)
I heard the argument about legend's eye color
But that gave me a hilarious idea
Fanfic prompt :
Legend's eye color changes depending on magic circumstances
It is red if there is prominent dark magic actually surrounding him (lorule , dark world , twilight realm , etc)
It is blue when he is in an area with a lot of light magic because it is strong enough to nullify or repress the effects of dark magic (sacred realm, fairy fountain near a light guardian)
And violet when both magic sources are around but prone to changing depending on how much of what magic is around ( Hyrule kingdom by default)
And green when he is near a water source or actually wet because the mermaid curse is pretty green looking in the oracle game and even more prone to changing
And depending upon who he is close to it also gets influenced (like with Hyrule he has blue eyes or violet, with twilight because of the twilight shard red eyes or violet , with sky blue eyes again, with warriors, time and wind violet eyes and if it is raining he has green eyes)
So image what sort of reaction four would have if he sees legend's eye colors rotate that way (green, red , violet and blue)
He freaked the hell out because legend mentioned that he retrieved the four sword once
And he very inconspicuously (it was not inconspicuous no matter how much Vio is in denial about it) tries to conspiracy theorist through it
But it is barely noticeable that they stay consistent because how the chain is close together anyway if you don’t search for it
Like he will have violet eyes then twilight would run up and they go red and sky and hyrule join as well so now they are blue and then he takes a sip of water and they go green then twilight moves away a bit and they go back to violet or blue
And if they fight monsters they are usually red or violet
This made four think that legend's colors are different from his in temperament
Legend's red obviously seems more like a fighter than four's (that kinda annoyed blue that his color rarely shows up in battle but when Hyrule and legend are being cuddly guess what , blue is there )
Legend's violet is way to social in comparison to four's (and much more snarky as well but that is just because he always has violet eyes when he and warriors interact , hyrule and sky tend to leave them to their teasing)
And legend's green seems to badly be around for anything but a meal or a break (soup is their only kind off meals so obviously his eyes turn green over water heavy stuff and also them messing around in rivers)
And how fast legend seem to change from one to another color is really worrying to four because that must be exhausting and confusing to pass around control this often without stopping once for an actual duration of time
And he tries to teach legend how to use the four sword but he having heavy trauma keeps pushing away lessons (I still decades later never recovered from the fight against the dark colors it is genuinely harder to beat then ganon )
So four tries to even harder
(While completely missing the fact that legend in fact cannot use the four sword (as it is pretty much useless in link to the past) nor has he ever used it)
Four tries so aggressively to bond with his probably successor that it makes twilight’s desperate attempts to connect with time look like nothing
He wants to fix this mess of a four sword user as soon as he can but legend actually has to trust him with the four sword stuff (which legend obviously wants to take to his grave for entirely different reasons because damn he killed the little guy and four seems to know that and it makes him feel horrible that four actually is such a nice person , why must he be so insistent on knowing what happened to the four sword)
So they dance around each other so aggressively that even wild and twilight find it impossible (a real pot , kettle situation they are totally not Better)
#linked universe#lu legend#lu wind#lu time#lu warriors#lu four#lu sky#lu wild#lu hyrule#lu twilight#lu colors#lu red#lu blue#lu green#lu vio#four swords palace#palace of the four sword#link to the past#four is definitely going to have an aneurysm#over the truth#but for entirely different reasons than getting killed#four is more afraid that the blade split legend improperly because it is in horrendous condition#then the getting murdered part#misunderstandings
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Gravity Falls: What Did You Do? Ch. 2
Summary: "Sixer... what did you do?"
“Nine Lives Lee”, a rare Stanley Pines who ended up on the other side of the portal instead of his brother, literally falls into “The Better World”, the dimension that many versions of Stanford Pines tend to be jealous of and hold over Lee’s head as ‘proof’ that everyone would have been better off if he’d just done what his brother asked him.
The Ford of this dimension, however, isn’t quite what he seems. And neither is his version of Stanley.
Rating: T+
Warnings: Language, violence, medical related gore, and mentions of graphic violence. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here.
Disclaimer: Reverse Portal Stan "Nine Lives Lee" is owned by @urdadsceilingfan
This version of the Better World AU is owned by @mother-ofthe-universedraws
First - Next
Ch.2
Dimension-GB1100.
Yes, Lee had heard about it
It was known more commonly as “The Better World.”
Throughout the decades, Lee had met several versions of his brother, but fewer versions of himself. In most cases, it seemed, Stanford Pines was the one who ended up pushed through the portal, not Stanley Pines.
These meetings with alternate versions of his brother usually didn’t go well. The first ten years of separation in his own dimension had taught Lee that his twin could hold onto a grudge, and the following near-thirty years in the multiverse taught him that it was impossible for his twin to let go of a grudge.
Almost every version of Ford that he’s met projects their own feelings of frustration, anger, and resentment onto Lee himself, despite only being a variant of their Stanley, and not their original twin. They also conveniently looked past the fact that Lee was pushed through the portal by his Ford, underhandedly muttering under their breath that that must have been Lee’s fault too since he’s the Stanley of his dimension.
Lee was not above frustration or resentment himself - the first decade or so in particular was difficult as hope that his brother would do something to bring him back was dissipating and Lee had to come to the grim conclusion that he was on his own (not that it was a new concept to him, but nonetheless a painful pill to swallow). But it’s almost been three decades, he isn’t mad at his brother anymore. He just wants to see him again! His real brother, not bitter multiverse-weary versions of him.
“Name.” Dr. McGucket, the Fiddleford of Dimension-GB1100, asked him from across the table, taking Lee out of his thoughts. A sane McGucket this time, and he held a clipboard in hand as he questioned Lee.
Ford stood in the corner, leaning on his cane with his other hand hooked over his elbow. He was pretending to look away, but sneaking glances over at Lee every now and then, in an anxious way, almost like Lee might disappear or become uncooperative if he looks away for too long.
It was strange that Ford would be here for this interview, according to the other versions of Ford who’d come to this dimension “Dr. Pines” wasn’t one to give his dimensional variants the time of day.
“Lee.” He replied dryly
“Full name?” McGucket looked up from his clipboard.
“Lee.” He repeated, with emphasis. Whether it was the streets on Earth in his home dimension, or the streets amongst the vast multiverse, using your real, full name was dangerous. It was asking for trouble it was asking for-
“You…” Ford spoke up in the corner, his voice still rusty and seeming to sound older than they actually were “you used to go by ‘Stan’.”
-asking for vulnerability. You can’t be vulnerable and survive, you didn’t have that luxury anymore. Lee hasn’t had that luxury since he was seventeen years old.
Lee squinted his eyes slightly at him past his cracked, blocky glasses “Things change.” He replied, feeling the flickering embers of resentment and despair in his gut. He stomped those embers out quickly; this wasn’t his brother, he reminded himself. “I changed.”
Lee hadn’t gone by Stan in a long time, not since he came to the multiverse. Something about Ford - his Ford - telling him to leave with his journal and be as far away as possible from him, and then pushing him through a portal that did just that, something about that had snapped something in Lee all those years ago.
He wouldn’t let himself be defined by that shared suffix ever again, Ford already made it clear he wanted nothing to do with him, he could keep it.
“What’s your Dimension’s name?” Dr. McGucket interrupted the short exchange between the other two men.
“Dimension-CF9L.” Lee replied.
“Your designation is St– Lee-CF9L?” McGucket deduced, quickly correcting himself. At least he respected his preferences, and didn’t deadname him the same way so many versions of Stanford did.
“Ya got it.” Lee nodded half-heartedly.
Each dimension vibrated at their own frequency - and anything from that dimension, be it an object or a person, vibrated at that same frequency. No matter what dimension you were currently in, or how long you’d been away fron your dimension of origin, you were always going to be permanently set to that frequency.
That’s how universes were named, and designations for multiversal vagabonds like him were made. How Lee knew that his dimension was Dimension-CF9L even though he hadn’t stepped foot in it since half of his life ago.
Knowing the frequency of your dimension wasn’t enough to find home, though. Of course it wasn’t, it’s never that easy. You need to know the frequency, and the grid position. And grid positions on a multi-dimensional scale weren’t as simple as latitude and longitude like it was when he was on Earth (his own Earth); there were four ‘major’ coordinates, and two ‘minor’ coordinates. You couldn’t chart a course on a flat map when it came to dimensional travel, you needed an interactive 3D map.
Lee was fairly good at navigating dimensional grid coordinates– much better than he ever did with flat map grids; it was surprising, considering a lifetime ago when he dreamed of sailing the seas, he’d struggled with reading maps, but he had someone who was willing to to navigate those maps and charts. Or, he thought he had someone.
“Are you trying to imprison me?” Lee asked McGucket, while also glancing at Ford, who was the big boss of this institute according to, quite smugly, other Fords. “Ya definitely lookin’ at me like I’m about to jump ship.”
“You’re not a prisoner, Lee.” McGucket replied flatly. Even the rare sane versions of Fiddleford McGucket were anxious, so seeing one so collected was throwing Lee for a bit of a loop when it came to reading this one. “This is a necessary interview and quarantine.”
“Quarantine, huh? I don’t remember being sick, or agreein’ to stay here.”
“I can tell just by looking at it that your portal gun is low on charges. You’ll be needing more portal fluid soon, or you’ll be trapped where you are two jumps from now.” McGucket challenged, and quirked a white eyebrow at him.
Well damn, engineering genius got him there.
Ford spoke up, his words coming out surprisingly quick “We’d be happy to help you, Stanley, if you’d just-.”
“Lee.” He practically spat his reaffirment that time. He hated how Fords did that. They always disregarded what he said, especially when it came to his preferred name. And none of them ever bothered to-.
“Lee, we’d be happy to help you get the necessary resources for your portal gun.” Ford continued, and Lee blinked in surprise at him.
This was certainly new, most versions of his brother stubbornly refused to call him anything aside from what they wished. This was the first time one had actually listened to him.
Lee would almost find it sentimental if he wasn’t too busy finding it suspicious as Hell.
Ford had paused to see if Lee would respond, and continued to speak when he did not. “If you give us a list of materials we should be able to retrieve them for you, I only ask that you stay in quarantine while we do so.”
“Mhmm…” Lee replied, narrowing his eyes at this alternate version of his twin.
Most versions of Ford were on the thinner side compared to him, but it’d always been that way with Lee and his original twin so that wasn’t surprising, but this Ford was skinny. That was why in the dark he’d initially assumed he was McGucket.
Compared to all of these dimension hopping variants Lee had met, with their straight backed posture and confidence that bordered on smugness, this Ford looked very much frail. He even seemed a bit older with how little he weighed, with the way he was slightly hunched over his cane, and the eyebags that had eyebags.
This Ford was… hollow. It was hard to explain, but it was unsettling to Lee, and woke up something protective within him, something he hadn’t felt since he was a teenager and felt the need to protect his own brother. Is this what his real brother was like now, back in their original dimension? Older than his years, faded and weary?
“If you’ll wait here, we’ll get the necessary preparations.” McGucket picked up where his co worker left off, he also pulled a piece of paper and a pen from his clipboard and slid both items over to the other side of the interrogation table with Lee. “Write down the components of your portal fluid. We’ll be back with you shortly, if you’ll just stay patient.”
Lee kept his arms crossed and didn’t say anything, he just nodded quickly. They’d already confiscated most of his gear, including his weapons, so he wasn’t in a position to negotiate.
McGucket nodded back and walked towards the door, using his lanyard keycard on a scanner to open it. The door - which was made of some kind of interactive, projected hardlight, turned from red to blue, and McGucket was able to walk right through it.
Ford lingered for a bit before following, noticeably slower than his fellow researcher. Lee didn’t need to turn his head to know that he kept glancing at him, though.
“Take a picture, Stanford.” Lee said flatly, boredly. “It’ll last longer.” Ford didn’t respond, he only somehow deflated even further, before scanning his own lanyard ID and leaving the interrogation room.
---
“‘Back with you shortly’- my ass.” Lee muttered to himself out loud. After having been waiting there for at least two hours. Hard to tell when they swiped his watch.
He weighed his options. He could just keep waiting here, but the antsiness and anxiety was only making him more paranoid the longer he waited.
He knew that this was par for the course - other Fords had explained that they had been held here too, to avoid contact with their alternative self. It was a known phenomenom that if you make physical contact with an parallel version of yourself while either of you is in your home dimension, that dimension will collapse.
Rick had confirmed this to him, and explained further that he and his many alternate selves didn’t have to worry about this phenomenon because of an after effect of their own portal fluid ‘distorted’ enough of their dimensional frequency to prevent a ‘crash-out’. Stan’s portal gun utilized a different fluid though, and it didn’t have the same effect on him.
The way Lee came so close to collapsing that swamp dimension when he almost got into a physical altercation with the frog version of himself, ‘Mr. Ponds’...
But, he’d heard about this dimension enough times to know its vague history. The Ford of this dimension had sent his twin brother away with his first journal decades ago. That was the kicker of this dimension, and what every Ford variant who had been here liked to hold over Lee’s head like a noose.
Everything would have been better for everyone if you would have just listened to me, Stanley.
I'm giving you a chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life and you won't even listen!
They never brought up Lee’s parallel self from this dimension, but knowing Ford they either didn’t ask because they assumed he was fine (they always assumed that about their own twin, after all), or he just wasn’t in Ford’s life at all and they never saw him.
Gambling man Lee was, he was betting on the latter. Ford didn’t have his twin in his life and he was going to use that to his advantage. He didn’t have a dimensional collapse to worry about.
Thankfully, when the nerds and their goons had confiscated his gear, they did leave him with something they’d assumed wasn’t important.
He had a thin gold chain around his neck and on that chain was a very old-fashioned looking key, looking like it was made of iron and thick enough to think it was just a decoration or, if being generous, it could open a lock the size of a softball.
But looks were often deceiving.
Guards did their arounds around this cell, doing a rough square around this wing of the building every fifteen minutes. Lee couldn’t see them, because the hard light door was opaque, but it wasn’t an effective barrier to sound, and judging from the footstep pattern Lee had been mentally keeping track of, there were only ever two guards together at one time. Two guards he could deal with, but if he got his timing just right, he could avoid the guards entirely.
He heard the steps fade in, then come close to the door, and then begin fading, and he made his move.
Taking the key off of his chain, Lee walked up to the hardlight door and pressed the large, pronged key to the scanner box.
There was a confirmation sound from the box, and the door turned from red to blue, allowing Lee to slip out finally.
The key may have looked like it was archaic and medieval, but it was one of Lee’s most sophisticated pieces of tech; The Space President’s Key. It opened any advanced sci-fi lock, the only drawback being that it didn’t work on traditional locks. He’d won it in a poker game a few years back in Dimension-HG42; it turned out that his opponent, Something Beeblebrox something, was the president of that galaxy.
Slipping the key back onto his chain, Lee followed the direction that the guards were going, matching his steps to their cadence to avoid detection. If they were guarding him, it stood to reason they also guarding his gear.
Rounding a corner, he found a door labelled ‘Misc Storage’. His Space Presidents Key couldn’t help him here, because it was a traditional lock that needed a traditional key. But this was no problem for Lee either.
Pushing the hand on his prosthetic all of the way back, he opened up the compartment space where he kept many small tools; these were mostly to maintain his prosthetic, but also his weapons, and even a small repair kit for his glasses frame (can’t do anything about the crack down the left lens, though).
A pick and a small screwdriver were all he needed to get through the locked door, which he silently closed behind himself.
The walls were lined with built-in drawers, reminding him of a post office. He could at least narrow down his search to the ones that would be big enough to hold his gear.
Many of these were civered in dust, so confiscation wasn’t something they did too often. There was one large cubby drawer however, that looked as though someone had tried to brush the dust off of it, but half-assed it leaving large, obvious hand trails.
Bingo.
Lee had echoic memory. He could remember things he heard, he could take the things he heard and make realistic and accurate deductions based on what he heard, but that didn’t mean his hearing was sensitive. Lee was still an old man who had to get one of his eardrums replaced with a sci-fi implant last year to avoid having to use a hearing aid.
But it was still strange when he didn’t hear the door open, and the footsteps that approached him so silently.
“Hello?”
Lee whipped around in an instant and pointed his blaster at the offending source of the words; only to almost drop it at what he was seeing.
A kid, no older than fifteen, yelped in surprise at the sight of a gun pointed in his direction and stumbled backwards with his hands up. Or, shoulders up, really; he was on elbow crutches.
How had he managed to move so silently with those?
“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” The kid stammered with a strong, familiar, Jersey accent. Lee instantly put his blaster back into it’s proper holster.
“I won’t- yeesh, kid, ya trying to give me a heart attack or somethin’?” Lee chided, and the kid had a still worried, but sheepish look on his face. How had he managed to move so silently? Especially with crutches. Was Lee just losing his touch?
A kid being there wasn’t the thing that was making Lee feel like his brain had tilted. It was how he looked. With his braces, top heavy build, glasses, acne, and greaser-style slicked back hair, it was like looking into a window to the past.
“I know I’m not supposed to meet you guys but I just had to at least once!” The kid prattled, and even his voice was like hearing himself from that age.
Lee felt his heart both twist and flutter - the Ford of this dimension must have had a kid. It was reasonable the kid could look like him, since they were identical twins.
Did his own brother, back in their dimension, become a father in Lee’s absense? Like their older brother Sherman? God, it’d been so long Sherman’s son could be a father himself now too.
“You should get back to your dad, kiddo.” Lee told him, trying to keep his voice soft. It wasn’t a tone he was used to using, he wasn’t usually around kids.
“My pa? He’s…” The kid shifted uncomfortably “Well, you’re one of the other versions of Sixer, right? You’re him from a different world? I didn’t think ol’ poindexter could look this cool!”
Did he really think that Lee was - well, he supposed that looking past his prosthetic arm and the difference in weight, he was still mostly identical to Ford. Even if they were from different dimensions, they were still twins.
…Who called their dad by a nickname like that? Was this not Ford’s kid? Was he another son or even a grandson of Shermies?
Or… could this even be his own son? As in, the son of his alternate of this dimension? Was his parallel self still close enough with Ford to let his kid stay with him?
“That’s a really cool arm!” The kid continued, not picking up the confusion or the thoughtful look on Lee’s face that he’s sure he was poorly concealing. “Does it shoot out rocket fists or-?”
“STANLEY!” They both bristled as they heard Ford’s deep, rusty voice shouting down the hallway, a distinctive series of clicks from his cane and his soles indicating that he was rushing over.
The man slammed the door opened and his eyes trained onto the two figures in front of him, as if he couldn’t decide who to berate.
“Stanley, get away from him this instant!”
Lee was about to retort that he wasn’t going to or planning on hurting the kid when-
“M’ sorry Sixer… I was just curious, ya know?” The kid answered, just as sheepisj as earlier, as he bunched his shoulders up closer to his head and walked over to Ford, who swifly grabbed at both sides of his arms right under his crutches and pulled him back until he was behind him. And now Ford stood between Lee and the kid, as if shielding him from something.
From Lee?
Lee blinked, eyebrows furled together as he tried to put all of these pieces together, until he asked “Ford, who is that?”
Ford hesitated for a moment, and it looked like the kid behind him was about to answer for him, but a pointed look from the man in front of him shut him up.
“...This is Stanley, my brother.” He explained, slightly strained.
…Huh?
“What?” Lee asked out loud, looking between the kid and Ford “There’s no way he’s your twin!”
“He is!” Ford insisted, still shuffling in a way to prevent Lee from getting a closer look at ‘Stanley’ “When we were very young, he was… injured, very gravely. And put into suspended animation. It was only a few short years ago we were able to take him out of it.”
Lee has met alternate versions of himself before.
Both inside and outside of dimensions.
It’s hard to explain what it’s like to meet at alternate - but it does make the ‘frequency crash out’ that Rick was talking about, the thing that made entire dimensions collapse, make sense.
Even though it takes physical contact to initiate the collapse, just being within a certain distance of an alternate caused you to feel a certain way.
Like there’s a static on your skin thay was always there, and you’re only just now starting to feel it because it’s trying to pull you closer to a very similar static that isn’t exactly the same but too similar to ignore.
Lee looked at Stanley, and there wasn’t that crawling, static pull. And even as Ford continued with his explanation, Lee only had one thought.
‘That isn’t me.’
To be continued…
---
NOTES
Dimension-CF9L (RP Stan's dimension). That’s because this version of reverse portal Stan “Nine Lives Lee” is (or at least heavily inspired by) the Reverse!Portal AU from tumblr user urdadsceilingfan or Ceiling Fan “Ceil”, with 9L referring to Lee’s nickname, he learned his dimensions name and that’s at least part of how he got his infamous nickname. At least in this fanfic.
Lee’s description how the position if a dimension is measured by four major coordinates and two minor coordinates, it’s a reference to how the Milky Way Galaxy allegedly has four major spiral arms, and two less spiral arms or ‘spurs’. This is basically just me BSing how a persons Dimensions name could be known but they still wouldn’t be able to find it.
When Lee internally narrates that he was very skilled with the interactive 3D maps needed for dimensional travel, when he’d struggled with flat paper maps when he was younger, this is a hint towards Lee having a different way of learning and different learning needs. A lot of people have theorized that Stan might have had some sort of learning problem, like ADHD or dyslexia. Lee here is hinting that he struggles reading and learning things that are second dimensional and non-interactive, while having a talent for understanding things when presented to him in a three dimensional format. He was always smart, he just had different learning needs that the education system did not or could not accommodate for. This is also another parallel with Bill Cipher, who was a two dimensional being in the second dimension, but did not fit in because he could see into and interact with the third.
“Faded and weary” is a term pulled from the song “Into the Nothing” by Breaking Benjamin.
Mr. Ponds is a one-off character from Amphibia who is a clear nod to / reference to Grunkle Stan.
The Space Presidents Key is a direct parallel to The Presidents Key from canon.
President Beeblebrox refers to Zaphod Beeblebrox from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The dimension, HG42, gets the letters of its name from “Hitchhikers Guide”, while 42 is “the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, The Universe, and Everything” in the story.
#what did you do?#nine lives lee#reverse portal au#the better world#better world au#stanley pines#stan pines#grunkle stan#stanford pines#ford pines#grunkle ford#fiddleford hadron mcgucket#fiddleford mcgucket#old man mcgucket#gravity falls au#gravity falls#fanfic#fanfiction#cross posted on ao3
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Passenger Princess| Yang Jeogin
.ᐟPAIRING: Yang Jeongin x f!reader
.ᐟSYNOPSIS: As they drive through the city in a car, the protagonist gives in to the attraction she feels for him. (Second part of dirty little secret)
.ᐟWARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and weed; suggestive content
.ᐟWORDCOUNTER: 1,1k (1146)
The wind hit my face, messing up my hair and sending it into shapeless waves, blowing from side to side.
The city lights flashed by like camera flashes, bright and flickering thanks to the high speed of the car.
Sin city was a witness to what he and I had—what was supposed to stay as a little secret, the city knew it all. The city of sin knew I’d die for you, baby. Do you know that?
The upper half of my body was hanging out of the car’s open window, my arms stretched wide, feeling the cool air brush against my warm skin as laughter escaped my mouth.
“Sit, pretty. It’s dangerous” he said from inside the car, touching my leg to get my attention to what he was saying.
I climbed back into the car, smoothing my hair with my hands and manicured nails, still letting out small giggles.
I looked over at my beloved driver with a smile. He returned it, his dimples carving into his smooth cheeks.
“I can sit pretty” I replied, running one hand through his soft, now-copper hair, stroking it gently from the top down to his nape.
Each stroke seemed to tickle him. Every time my hand brushed against the back of his neck or near his ear, a shiver ran through his body.
He had bleached his hair a few weeks ago in a moment of impulsiveness, spurred by a weed high. He had called me around 1 a.m., asking for my help—a favor that was rewarded hours later in his bed. A night I’d like to experience again.
Sitting on his famous leather seats, which stuck to my bare legs thanks to the dress I was wearing, I could see the bright lights reflecting in his eyes, filled with unspoken emotions.
After that night at the bar, when I should’ve drawn a line, walked away, or ended it all, here I was again—falling for his charms.
Once again, driving through the city in his car late at night, hoping no one would bother us. Escaping a reality we couldn’t change—a reality where what we had had to stay a secret.
His hand, cold from the rings he wore, sliding up and down my thigh, pulled me out of my thoughts. I turned my gaze back to him. In that moment, I wasn’t sure if the lights around us blurred because of the speed we were going or because of the alcohol in my system.
“You’re my favorite fantasy, you know that?” His unexpected words made my heart race, pumping more blood than usual, sending some to my cheeks and tinting them pink.
Could you hear my heartbeat? If he asked, I could lie and say it was because he was speeding. I didn’t want to admit he turned my world upside down—but he probably already knew that.
Saying it out loud would only complicate things further, and I hoped I could keep my mouth shut for at least a little while longer. For once in my life, I prayed the alcohol wouldn’t betray me.
Where were we headed? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care because anywhere he take me, I would go.
“Don’t you know I’d die for you?” The words slipped from my lips, my senses too numb to hold them back.
Resting my head against the leather seat, I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed far more in control than I was at that moment, but my words clearly affected him.
The hand on my thigh now squeezed a little tighter. His eyes stayed focused on the road, but his jaw was tense, as if he were holding back the words he really wanted to say.
He turned his head slightly toward me, his dark eyes reflecting a mix of uncertainty and resolve. “Why are you telling me this now?” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.
Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes, sending my body lurching forward and then back into the seat. Quickly glancing at the street to see the reason behind his sudden braking. I noticed the red light.
Without even thinking—with what little brainpower I still had—I slid from my seat onto his, straddling him with my legs on either side of his muscular ones.
His eyes, wide with surprise, were locked on my legs, as if trying to make sense of the sudden situation. Meanwhile, my hands went to his neck, leaving gentle caresses.
“Say you’re all mine, Innie. Touch me under streetlights” I whispered, my voice nothing more than a hushed murmur filled with longing.
His breath hitched, and his hands, which had been tensely gripping the wheel, slowly moved toward my thighs. The glow of the streetlights illuminated his eyes, where a storm of emotions swirled.
“You know what you’re doing to me, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice hoarse and thick with restrained desire. You couldn’t help but smile slightly, enjoying the vulnerability in his tone.
Carefully, his fingers glided up my thighs, stopping just short of where the electricity between us became unbearable.
“Say it again” he said, his eyes fixed on your lips as if he needed to hear the words to believe the moment was real.
“Only because I know you want it too” I replied, our lips nearly brushing, heightening the tension between us. “Touch me under the streetlights.”
The distance between us disappeared in a breath as his lips finally found mine—a perfect mix of softness and urgency that seemed to stop time.
His hands, once hesitant, now moved with certainty, tracing a path up your thighs until they held you securely. The world outside blurred, the only sound the synchronized beating of your hearts.
Can you feel my heartbeat?
The traffic light changed, bathing the car’s interior in a green glow, but neither of you moved. After all, at this hour, no one else was driving.
And I could die here and now, in his arms, in a car filled with groans and gasps escaping both our lips.
His hands roaming over my bare legs, occasionally stopping on my ass to squeeze it possessively. My hands tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, causing groans to escape from his plump lips, now swollen from our sudden kissing session.
I began moving my hips slowly over his hard member, earning deep, melodic moans from him. His hands now guided my hips, making the movements even more pleasurable for both of us.
My feelings and desires, now more exposed than ever and clearly reciprocated, hoped they’d no longer have to be hidden from the world.
I had fallen completely for Jeongin’s charms from the very first moment, and no one could ever deny it.
From this night forward, I could say I’d officially become his passenger princess.
.ᐟA/n: le dedico esta segunda parte a Jaz castor que desde que salió el primer fic de Jeongin (que en ningún momento estaba planeado que continuara) me pidió una segunda parte y acá está, disfrútalo corazón!
#stray kids#skz#skz fanfic#skz x reader#skz yang jeongin#yang jeongin x reader#yang jeongin smut#yang jeongin#skz jeongin#stray kids jeongin#stray kids i.n#stray kids yang jeongin#i.n x reader#i.n stray kids#i.n smut#skz i.n#jeongin x reader#jeongin stray kids#Spotify
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How I added "instant translation" to the non-english text on my fic: a very easy 3 step guide
Hello!
I recently posted a Wolfstar fanfic called Instance of Happenstance and received a lot of compliments on a small piece of code I used. Both @marigold-hills and @leavesthatarebrown suggested I share how I did it, so here I am, finally explaining it in a Tumblr post!
Before diving into the details, I want to clarify that I didn't write this code myself.
Initially, I tried following this tutorial, but I stumbled upon a better solution in the comments of that post. The code on the tutorial itself does work, but a) it's harder to use and b) it doesn't work as well if you're planing to have multiple paragraphs that you need to show the translation on the same fic.
The solution someone presented on the comments, however, is very simple and easy to use for as many paragraphs as you need, but the explanation there wasn’t too clear, so I decided to expand on it to make it easier for others to implement.
All credit to Ao3 users La_Temperaza (who wrote the orginal post) and Nikkie2571 (who posted this code on the comments).
What Does This Code Do?
This code adds an interactive feature to your fanfic, allowing readers to hover over a specific paragraph (or tap on it if they’re on mobile) to instantly change the text to something else — also set by you.
While this can be used for various purposes, I think it's particularly useful to display instant translations of non-English dialogue/text directly in the story. The code offers a much smoother alternative to the clunky “see end notes for translation” thing—which, let's be honest, can be a pain for readers, especially in long chapters.
For example, in instance of happenstance, Sirius discovers an old journal written entirely in French. I wanted to maintain the sense of mystery and intrigue that would be lost if I simply said the journal was in French, but wrote the text in English.
This solution let me keep the best of both worlds—retaining the authenticity and the immersion of the French, while still making the story easy to follow for the readers.
Now, I know this sounds complicated, but I assure you, it's not!
Down bellow is a quick, 3 steps tutorial on how to do it. I hope this is helpful! (:
(I'm doing this on the computer, if you're doing it on mobile, the layout of the website might be different from my printscreens)
Step 1 - Create The Work Skin
I'm gonna go right to the point here, but if you want to know about Work Skins in detail, I suggest this Ao3 Article.
On your Ao3 Dashboard, click on the fourth link on the sidebar, which is "Skins".
Then, on the page that opens up, click on "My Work Skins"
Then, on the top of the page, select "Create Work Skin"
Now, you'll see the form to create your skin, which looks like this:
Leave the "Type" as "Work Skin". On the Title, you can give any name you want to your skin, but I suggest you choose the same title as your fic or something like "instant translation", so you'll know what it's about later.
You don't have to worry about any of the other fields, except for the CSS one, where you should copy and paste exactly what I'll put bellow:
#workskin .change_on_hover:not(:hover) .on, #workskin .change_on_hover:hover .off { display: none; }
So, now, you'll have something like this...
... and you just have to click "save" on the bottom of the page, and this step is done.
Step 2 - Apply the Skin you created to your fic
For a new work, click on "New Work" as usual. If it's a fic you're already posting, you can add this as well, just click the "Edit" button.
Now, on the form of your fic, on the "Associations" tab, right under the menu where you select the language of your fic, you'll see a "select a work skin" option.
On this field, you should select the workskin you just created on the previous step, searching by the name you gave it on the "Title" field.
Step 3 - Insert the text
The code we're gonna use is this one:
<p class="change_on_hover"> <span class="off"> paragraph in foreing language </span> <span class="on"> paragraph in english </span> </p>
If you have no idea what this means, hold my hand, we're gonna get through it together!
First, copy your fic’s text into the AO3 text box as you normally would. Then, switch the text box to HTML mode so you can see the underlying code.
Now, scroll down until you find the paragraph you want to translate. After pasting, it will likely look something like this:
Note how each paragraph in HTML starts with <p> and ends with </p>. These tags indicate where a paragraph begins and ends.
Our goal is to modify that first <p> tag so it tells the browser, “Hey, this paragraph is different from those other ones. It should change when hovered over or clicked.”
To do this, we’ll change <p> to <p class="change_on_hover">. This marks the paragraph as special—one that should switch text when interacted with.
Now note how instead of having a single paragraph, we need two versions of the text:
In blue, the original (non-English) text, which will be shown by default.
In red, the translated (English) text, which will appear when the reader hovers over or clicks on it.
For the original text, wrap it inside a <span class="off"> tag, ending with </span> like this:
<span class="off"> insert here the whole text of the paragraph in the foreign language </span>
For the translated text, wrap it inside a <span class="on"> tag, also ending with </span>. This will replace the original text when hovered over or clicked:
<span class="off"> insert here the whole text of the paragraph in english </span>
And don't forget to end the whole thing again with </p>
Again, here's how it looks on my fic:
With the paragraphs that come before and after the translated text, just leave them as they are. They should still start with <p> and end with </p>. No changes needed!
You can use this method for as many paragraphs as you want, whether in the same chapter or across different chapters. As long as the Work Skin is active, the effect will work seamlessly throughout your fic.
#fanfiction#ao3#ao3 work skins#work skins#translation on text#ao3 fanfic#ao3 coding#tutorial#step by step#fanfic#wolfstar#marauders
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🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
mysterious draft #34, way more than five lines, as usual xD
Alfred had stared at the toasts -goat cheese, honey, walnuts- with barely restrained despair, before containing his expression, and walking out of the kitchen with a half-hearted excuse. Leslie hated that. The stiff upper lip, Englishman routine always made her want to shake the man, just to get any emotion, any prove that he was as red blooded as the rest of them, out of him. She looked at Bruce for an explanation, and was surprised when she received one. "That was... Jason's special days breakfast. They usually made it together." Leslie grimaced. Time-shifting was a relatively recent development; so far, the few times they'd observed it, it always centered a young Jason, and at the beginning, any distress was easily curved by saying the boy was at school. Once, Leslie asked him -through quite a few intermediaries-, to come for a visit, see if that helped. Jason had begrudgingly accepted, under the condition that he'd only see Alfred, and Leslie herself when he was there. He'd walked into the house with the curiosity of a newcomer, looking at it for all the world as if he'd never stepped a foot in. It only hit Leslie that technically, he hadn't: the manor had been rebuilt after the earthquake, and she had simply gotten used to all the changes, year after year. Jason hadn't. On his way to Alfred's bedroom, he'd stopped in the middle of the hallway, and a chuckle escaped his lips as he stared at an empty piece of wall. He had spent a few hours with Alfred. Despite the patience he displayed, Leslie found herself disturbed at the sight of a man with a size that could engulf Alfred, with muscles that could lift him and carry him far, far away, calmly speak to him about homework and extracurricular school activities, and left them alone after the first thirty minutes. When she walked a pensive Jason out, she told him "I think... his brain wants to return to that time. Those memories, when you were still living here, before..." The words floated around them, a heavy presence whenever Jason was near. But like the rest of them, she couldn't quite bring herself to speak them. Jason hummed. "I have a different theory." "Oh?" "It's not about me, not really. It's never about me. He misses who Bruce was before my murder." He smiled, acerbic. "But unlike me, that man is never, ever coming back."
#i REALLY need to polish this but i just focused on finishing the draft today ✌️#replies#artemis tag#ty!#dc#dc comics#dc thoughts#my wips#writing woes#talking to the void#my thoughts#jason todd#leslie thompkins#alfred pennyworth#bruce wayne#bat clan
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empty words
hwang hyunjin x fem!reader
synopsis: you thought you’d tell him about the pregnancy with excitement, but his cold rejection shatters your hopes. Now, with everything crumbling, you must figure out how to move forward.
warnings: asshole!!! hyunjin, pregnancy/pregnant mentions, huge argument & just overall really angsty.
wc: 1338
You sat on the edge of the bed, the test still warm in your hands, its small white stick almost mocking you as it proved everything you'd been afraid to admit. Positive. You knew it deep down, didn't you? The nausea, exhaustion, and little, subtle changes in your body. But seeing it in black and white made you feel as if the world had stopped. Your heart raced in your chest, a deafening thrum that overshadowed everything else. You'd imagined this moment numerous times before, but none of them matched the crushing sense of terror and uncertainty that gripped you right now.
What were you going to do? You didn't even know where to start. You'd hoped to start a family with him someday. Hyunjin. You imagined him holding the test, his face beaming with excitement, making plans and talking about everything you two could do to prepare. But now that you saw the reality of the situation, you're afraid.
How would he react? Would he be happy? Or would he be disappointed? Will he panic and push you away? Your mind swirled with questions, each one more pressing than the previous. You thought that, whatever happened, the two of you would be able to handle it together. You've always been able to handle things right? But now, with the test in your hand, everything seemed uncertain, as though a single word from him could shatter everything.
You shook your head, trying to focus. You couldn’t let this news get to you before you even told him. He’d be home soon, and you needed to figure out how to tell him.
You hid the test in the drawer and closed it, trying to push it to the back of your mind. Dinner. You should focus on dinner. You still had some time, so maybe you could make something nice, something that would ease the tension. You wanted everything to be perfect when he walked through the door, so you could tell him with some semblance of normality, of calmness. He would be okay, wouldn’t he?
But when the door clicked open, it was anything but normal. The usual excitement you felt when you heard his footsteps in the hallway was gone. It was like the air had changed, a heaviness settling between you before he even entered the room. He didn’t greet you with the usual teasing smile, didn’t ask about your day or tell you how much he missed you. Instead, he walked in, his face drawn, tight with something you couldn’t place. The warmth you were used to was completely absent.
"Hey, love, how was your day?" you asked, a little too cheerfully, hoping he would smile and make everything feel okay again.
He didn’t. Instead, he just grunted, his gaze flicking toward you briefly before he turned away, walking past you without saying a word.
"Do you want to have dinner now?" you asked, trying to fill the silence, trying to make things feel normal, even though everything in you screamed that nothing was normal. "I was thinking about making something, maybe pasta or—"
He scoffed, cutting you off. "You didn’t make anything?" His voice was sharp, colder than you’d ever heard it.
The words hit you like a blow in the face. You got so preoccupied with thinking about whether or not to take the test, swirling fear and anticipation, that you had entirely forgotten about dinner. You felt an overwhelming sense of shame come over you, yet it was nothing compared to how his words made you feel. You instantly looked down at the floor, avoiding his eyes, wishing you could just break down the tension in the air.
"I forgot," you confessed slowly, your voice small.
His expression darkened. Without saying anything, he turned toward the kitchen, his footsteps heavy and irritating. "I'll make something for myself," he murmured under his breath, turning away from you to begin gather food from the refrigerator. You stood there for a moment, watching him walk with displeasure with each stride.
Something within you stirred. Something was not right. You hadn't seen him this off in a long time. "Hyunjin, are you okay?" You tried again, your voice softer this time, and stepped closer to him, your heart racing in your chest. "You’re been acting distant... Is everything alright?
He didn’t turn around, but you saw his jaw tighten. His hands moved faster, the sounds of him grabbing pots and pans harsh against the stillness. Then, he scoffed again, this time louder, more frustrated. "I’m tired of everything," he muttered, not looking at you, his voice low but heavy with frustration.
"What?" You didn’t know if you had heard him correctly. Your breath caught in your throat as your chest tightened, a wave of dread flooding over you. You took a step closer. "What did you say?"
Hyunjin turned to face you then, his eyes cold, a deep frown etched on his face. "I said I’m tired of you. Tired of this. Tired of everything. The relationship. Everything about it. It’s been building up, and I just… I don’t know anymore." His voice was sharp, cutting through you like a knife. The words hit you harder than you had imagined.
Your legs went weak, but you held yourself upright, willing your body to stay steady. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, like you were afraid that if you spoke too loudly, the fragile piece of reality you were holding onto would shatter.
"Hyunjin, you’re not making sense. This isn’t… you."
His gaze turned even colder, and he looked at you like you were a stranger. "I’m suffocated," he spat. "I can’t do this anymore. I can’t breathe when I’m with you. Everything feels like it’s just… weighing me down. I’m done."
The words struck you like a stab to the chest. Your breath caught, and the world around you started spinning. You wanted to scream, ask why, and beg him to stay. You couldn't lose him like way. But the hurt in his eyes and the finality in his tone told you it was already over. You swallowed hard, tears welling up in your eyes, but you held them back. Not yet.
"Hyunjin…" you muttered, struggling to maintain your voice. "What are you saying?" "You want us to break up?" He nodded, without a trace of emotion on his face. "Yes," he responded, almost coldly. "I don't want this anymore. You can keep everything, the apartment, all the stuff; I don't care. I just need out. I need to be alone."
A heavy silence hung between you, the weight of his words settling like a thick fog around you. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, to make this make sense, but the words wouldn’t come.
You can’t leave. You can’t do this to me.
But instead, you just choked on your breath, the sting of tears becoming unbearable.
"You want to leave," you whispered quietly, the finality of your words making your throat ache. "Then go." You did not want to show him how much he was hurting you just yet. You didn't want him to see the brokenness in your eyes. Hyunjin didn't hesitate. He grabbed his jacket and keys and proceeded toward the door without saying anything.
The slam of the door as he left rang around the room like a bullet punctured the air. You slumped to the floor, your body trembling, tears finally spilling freely as you held your stomach, your hand reflexively pressing against the growing life inside you.
The sobs wracked through you, each one pulling at your chest as you sat alone. You had pictured a future where the two of you were making a life together, but it seemed so far away. You'd never felt so small and alone.
"Why?" you cried into the emptiness.
And then, as your hand rested over your belly, you whispered, through your tears, "I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to do this alone."
//
#stray kids imagines#stray kids x you#skz imagines#stray kids x reader#skz x y/n#stray kids fanfic#stray kids scenarios#kpop x reader#kpop imagines#kpop angst#kpop fanfic#stray kids angst#stray kids reactions#stray kids hyunjin#hyunjin angst#hwang hyunjin fanfic#hwang hyunjin imagines#hwang hyunjin x you#hyunjin imagines#skz angst#skz hyunjin#skz x you#skz x reader#stray kids x y/n#hyunjin x you#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin
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Hey I was re-reading the pages of your shattered unity comic AND IM LOVING IT SO MUCH AUGHHHH
Maybe I’m reading it all wrong, but I love how the power dynamics are changed between this and other MegOp universes
Usually Megatron may be stronger, but he’s usually on equal or lesser footing to Optimus in some way
But in your comic? He holds all the cards, he can get everything he wants… and we see he’s an evil bastard with how he uses that power
Meanwhile Orion is fighting an uphill battle, trying to hold his ideals firm even as Megatron tries to break him down and tempt him away. It really captures the cores of these characters even if they’re in a different dynamic!
It’s just so goooooooood….
And even if I’m wrong in my current interpretation (we’re only three pages in after all lol) the art and dialogue are just… so damn good.
thank you!! and Technically they both own equal territories, and power, but the main differences in their power dynamic is Orion doesn’t wish to start a full on war with Megatron, He doesn’t want to cause unnecessary death and destruction.
Megatron gets a sense of this, he knows Orion has extremely strong opinions when it comes to the preservation of life, and even though they are one equal footing he uses this to his advantage to scare Orion into thinking he is on better footing and it works.
not because he is stronger, but because he is always presenting himself with as much power as he can muster, He’s very good at making people believe he’s capable of so much more destruction then he is.
And since They’ve never gotten to know each other before this, Orion wouldn’t be able to distinguish if he’s bluffing or not, I mean, come on- if your past idol- the guy who inspired the very notion of ruling with peace and equality suddenly starting making heads roll, I’d be shitting my pants to be in the same room with him.
Orion is terrified of the fact that the guy he’s co-running the planet with, might destroy not only the chance at new found freedom, but half the freaking planet as well-
and why wouldn’t he believe him? Megatron’s resume when it comes to violence decisions and actions is quite impressive after all.
so it basically boils down to this-
two political leaders who play the worlds most fucked up game of chicken- one of them is farming aura points and other is dealing with the actual responsibilities of leadership and being responsible for so many lives.
both are equally strong in their own ways, both in battle and metal chess and both are equally determined to win the game of chicken.
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Hello! I hope youre well! How would the jofoes react to the realisation of being in love? Also if its not too much could you add PB Dios reaction as well? He's my favorite!
Yes totally! I love PB Dio too, part 1 is iconic. thank you for requesting and here are the headcannons!
Jojo villains realizing they're in love HCs
Dio Brando PB
Initial Reaction: Dio is utterly taken aback. For someone who’s always been in control of his emotions, the concept of love feels like a disruption- an unexpected, inconvenient distraction.
Thoughts: Love? A weakness? Or something that can be used to my advantage?
His ego tells him that he doesn’t need anyone, but there's a tug in his chest when he’s around you. He begins to notice how your presence makes him feel some type of way he’s never experienced before.
Evolution: Dio becomes possessive, more than a little obsessive. He’ll convince himself that he owns you, but his feelings are real. If he sees you with someone else, the irritation he feels is nothing short of explosive.
Action: While he’ll never openly admit it, his need for you will grow both emotionally and physically. He’ll start manipulating situations to keep you close, often in subtle ways, ensuring you see him as the one who can provide everything you need.
Kars
Initial Reaction: Kars is initially confused. He’s never cared for emotional attachments beyond the other pillar men, believing that love is a primitive feeling that doesn’t align with his perfect vision of himself and the world.
Thoughts: I never needed love... I don’t need anyone. But why does my mind keep returning to this…human?
He’ll resist the feelings at first, viewing them as an imperfection and a flaw. But with time, he finds himself drawn to you, fascinated by your existence.
Evolution: Kars doesn’t fully understand love, but he’ll never admit it. Instead, he views you as a necessary partner in his grand plan, yet it doesn’t change the fact that his feelings for you are genuine. He might not say it, but his actions, the way he’ll protect you, pamper you, and make sure no harm comes your way, will show that he cares more deeply than he’s willing to admit.
Action: His love manifests in a cold, pragmatic way. he doesn’t need your affection, but he’ll demand your loyalty. Kars will keep you close, not because he’s insecure, but because you’ve become a part of his vision, a necessary part of his empire.
Wamuu
Initial Reaction: Wamuu, being of a more honorable and warrior like mindset, finds love to be an obligation, a responsibility that some hold in their hearts but not him, at least until now. When he realizes he’s fallen for you, he is overwhelmed by the feeling of protecting and cherishing you.
Thoughts: This... this is different. I have never felt this urge to protect anyone with my entire being aside from my masters.
He’s a bit confused at first, unsure how to navigate the feeling of wanting someone’s safety as much as his own.
Evolution: He grows to accept it- a deep, loyal love that isn’t possessive, but moreso built on a foundation of respect and strength. His love for you is a quiet, enduring force.
Action: Wamuu will express his love through actions rather than words, always striving to protect and fight by your side. His loyalty to you would be unshakable- if you’re in danger, so is he.
Esidisi
Initial Reaction: Esidisi is initially frustrated by the realization. He’s all about passion and power, but the feeling of love feels softer than his usual feelings, and he’s not sure what to make of it.
Thoughts: I... am in love with this human. How is this possible?
He’ll see love more like an overwhelming, all consuming force, one he can’t fight against. He wants to possess you, but in a way that is deeply rooted in a need to keep you safe and close.
Evolution: Esidisi grows to revel in the feeling. Love becomes an addiction for him, a source of power and strength. He becomes more obsessed, willing to do anything to maintain your affection and devotion.
Action: His love would be intense and slightly overbearing, but never cruel. He’ll spoil you with everything he can offer, while simultaneously warning others that you’re his. Anyone who threatens you will suffer his wrath.
Kira
Initial Reaction: Kira doesn’t know how to handle this. He’s a perfectionist, and love feels messy, untidy. He doesn’t want to lose control, and love seems to demand it.
Thoughts: Why does this person make me feel this way? I don’t need this...
The realization comes slowly, creeping up on him when he notices how his thoughts always return to you. He might try to deny it at first.
Evolution: As much as he tries to control it, Kira becomes obsessed. His love is possessive and suffocating, hidden under the guise of politeness. He doesn’t know how to express it. His love for you will be something more dangerous than anyone realizes.
Action: Kira would try to keep you close, doing small things for you, like buying you gifts and making sure you're always safe, all while making sure not to get too close. His love is twisted, with an underlying need to make you feel like you belong to him. For your sake, he tries to keep his other violent urges at bay.
Diavolo
Initial Reaction: Diavolo would never admit to being in love. He’s obsessed with control and the concept of fate, and love doesn’t fit into his perfect, planned world.
Thoughts: Ridiculous. I am the ruler of this world, and yet... why are my thoughts plagued by this person?
He struggles to accept this weakness, dismissing it at first. But over time, it eats away at him.
Evolution: Diavolo would try to suppress it, but his need for you would grow, and his obsession would turn darker and more desperate.
Action: He’d want to keep you close, ensuring no one else can have you. His love is possessive and manipulative, he’d control everything, from your actions to the people around you, all to maintain his hold on you.
Doppio
Initial Reaction: Doppio is different from Diavolo in many ways. He’s more open to emotions but still caught off guard.
Thoughts: I love this person… Oh, no. What do I do now?
Doppio’s reaction is more pure, filled with excitement and confusion. He wants to express his feelings, but he’s unsure how to proceed without screwing things up. Especially considering not only his job and lifestyle, but his other half.
Evolution: He grows to enjoy this newfound love, feeling elated but still unsure. He’s not as manipulative as Diavolo, but his desire to have you sometimes gets the better of him and he may be a little.
Action: Doppio would be all about taking care of you, always trying to please you and make you feel special. His love is earnest, though he might not always know how to keep it from being too overbearing.
Enrico Pucci
Initial Reaction: Pucci, being a deeply religious man, feels conflicted at first. Love is supposed to be pure, but this feeling is all consuming, and he’s unsure how to reconcile it with his sense of fate.
Thoughts: This... is destiny? The Lord’s will? Or is it a weakness?
His sense of devotion to you intensifies, but it’s tangled with his mission- he might see this love as a stepping stone for his mission.
Evolution: Pucci slowly accepts that love is part of his purpose. He believes it’s all connected to his larger goal, and with that acceptance, his feelings for you grow.
Action: He would express his love through actions more than words, ensuring you’re always safe and cared for. At the same time, his focus on the divine means that your love, in his mind, must be fated: a powerful, unshakable force.
Funny Valentine
Initial Reaction: Funny Valentine views personal attachments as secondary to his greater goal of protecting and elevating his beloved America. When he begins to realize he's in love, his first instinct is to deny it, love is a distraction that could cloud his judgment. His duty must come first.
Thoughts: My… interest in this person…purely cursory…yes, that’s all.
However, Valentine is an intelligent man, and the more time he spends around you, the harder it becomes to ignore the warmth in his chest and the protective instinct rising within him.
Evolution: Valentine has a deeply traditional view of love and courtship. He believes in honor, respect, and chivalry, but these values are always tempered by his pragmatic nature. If he accepts that he's in love, he approaches it in a dignified manner, polite gestures, formal declarations, and acts of service.
Action: He would not allow his love to interfere with his goals but would integrate you into his life as someone to protect and cherish. He's not particularly demonstrative in public, but in private moments, he's affectionate. He enjoys quiet, meaningful moments, like holding your hand while discussing literature or politics.
Diego Brando
Initial Reaction: Diego initially reacts with frustration, seeing love as a weakness and a hindrance to his goals.
Thoughts: What is this? I need to focus on winning. Why does my heart palpitate when they’re around?
He tries to dismiss it, but his obsession with you grows. His ego makes him reluctant to admit it, but he can’t escape the pull you have on him.
Evolution: Diego’s feelings for you become a blend of love and obsession. He’s not afraid to show his desire and possessiveness, though he still tries to maintain control.
Action: He will push you to his side, always ensuring you are his, even if it means manipulating situations to keep you close. His love is passionate but driven by a need for you to belong to him.
#jojo's bizarre adventure#diavolo#dio brando#dio#doppio#enrico pucci#funny valentine#kars#kira#kira yoshikage#diego brando#dio brando headcannons#dio x reader#diavolo headcannons#diavolo x reader#kars x reader#kars headcannons#yoshikage kira x reader#wamuu#wamuu x reader#esidisi#esidisi x reader#vinegar doppio x reader#funny valentine x reader#pucci x reader#pucci headcannons#jjba doppio#jjba headcanons#jjba x reader#diego brando x reader
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Veilguard spoilers btw (cut it just in case)
The soul isn't really a spirit, though they do sometimes call it a spirit. I think more so because the soul is the "spirit" of a mortal being, whereas a spirit is a being of the Fade. Spirits cannot create things on their own, they exist because mortals exist and that gives them purpose/identity in return- if possible unreliable narration on the faith with the Maker is to be believed. But it is also supported in why the Fade looks the way it does, and behaves the way it does. Since it is separate from the mortal world, it can only be shaped by mortals through dreams, emotions, etc. This is kinda how magic in DA works too, but that's another tangent.
A spirit is a reflection usually of an emotion or idea. Weaker spirits are wisps and aren't more than just impulses, and stronger spirits can be of locations (genius loci).
A soul is the essence of a living being. What makes a person a person, I suppose.
I can't remember where the conversation is from but to further support the above, someone (Emmrich...?) talks about a soul and a spirit being two different things as well. That a mage would never confuse the two.
Rolling back to my Lichdom being a process of turning a soul into a spirit.
The idea started with the statement of a soul once it has left the body is gone completely. If the soul stays in the body, it can be them coming back to life but the logistics of that seems to be equivalent to how revival works in real life. Nevarran's believe that once the soul leaves the body it travels through the Fade and displaces a spirit, which is why they leave the bodies and prepare them for spirits to possess. Only a spirit can enter the body of the deceased. Canonically, Liches are a nightmare unless you apply the spirit concept to them.
Emmrich, as we can observe, does not change as a person. He is truly him, and yet there is still subtle differences. He sees a lot more of the Fade, his magic's signature has changed (Neve's comment). There's not really any major hints except that he seems a little more emotional, and a lot less able to hide those emotions. My only resource on this is the difference between the argument scenes and the after-Fade-prison romance scene.
So... Since a mortal's soul cannot return to the body once it has left (and it's inferred that Emmrich's soul very likely left the body given the language used to describe the event before and after) and considering Emmrich's now closer relationship to the Fade and Spirits... I concluded that Emmrich is now more spirit-like.
This was also my "I want to fix a probable plot hole" that the game may be retconning the Cardinal Rules of Magic that the devs followed for the other games.
Finally, life is finite. A truly great healer may bring someone back from the very precipice of death, when breath and heartbeat have ceased but the spirit still clings to life. But once the spirit has fled the body, it cannot be recalled. That is no failing of your skills or power, it is simple reality.
Here "spirit" is being used for both soul and spirit alike. Once a spirit is removed from the body it has been placed in, it returns to the Fade in a similar manner that a soul does. Thus also why Manfred cannot be revived. The fact that he can be is almost equally lore breaking, but it's been established at least that a strong spirit may survive being ethered as long as they are remembered...? idk that side of things still confuses me.
Is Lichdom a transcendence of the soul into a complex spirit?
Because the need for so many rituals and final sifting of the soul/judgement makes sense if someone were trying to change their person into such a being.
Thematically it fits too, contrasting sharply with the Evanuris going from spirit to person...
I know there's probably not enough information on this to say for sure, but I'm rolling with this for headcanon now.
#emmrich volkarin#datv#dragon age the veilguard#datv spoilers#dragon age the veilgaurd spoilers#emmrich lich#lichdom#lich lords#lich emmrich#long post
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When will the day come that someone from my muse lists gets their face peppered in kisses :staring to the sea:
#;ooc#ooc#WISHLIST FRFRFR#usually i used to be the change i wanted to see in the world but i want my muses to be romanced for a change u know#cheekie kisses are soooo cute too 😭😭😭✊#or lemme write my muses be obsessed with someone thats the good shit too ☝️☝️🤝✨🙏#anyways that aside; did u know that Moriarty is really the first servant from the ruler class that actually uses a ruler?#m.oriarty beloved....#;dl#;delete later#this is part of my plot to talk about m.oriarty#and while we are at it;; o.dysseus#have u seen him?? :proceeds to show him for the seventh time this week:
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this was meant to be a funny post, but then it got deep imao
not a relationship person, but i believe in their beliefs
#me when i lie#it always comes round to june and i’m always single and it’s quite honestly homophobic#imaooooo nah it’s not that deep i’m just coming on my period hehe x#literally keep saying the same thing about relationships#like i shouldn’t get into one just because i’m lonely#and rush things and completely blow up my life on impulse#but i don’t know any other way#need to learn to take it slow and *actually* take it slow#because the last time i “took it slow’’ it all went wrong#basically i want a relationship at some point but when all your relationships are the same#it really gets to you#and i keep thinking about (redacted) and how much i fucked it all up#but also like would we really have worked out?#if i’d actually believed everything she said would we be okay?#do i not have a life? or am i not allowing myself to have a life?#bc literally i think i’ve gotten so used to being on the floor that i’ve forgotten how to get up#and like if i really tried i could actually get what i want#and i know that sounds obvious but like bear with me#i’ve basically shoved myself into a deep dark hole and covered myself up with dirt and then forgotten i can dig myself out#i *can* be with someone seriously#like yeah it’s uncomfortable and scary and it means facing up to certain things that make my stomach hurt but i will never have a life if i#don’t do these things#i can’t allow myself to basically get pushed back into the closet#i can’t allow myself to be infantilised and treated like shit all the time#like even if i’m surviving purely via spite for a while it’s better than the alternative#instead of constantly talking about the same thing and how nothing ever changes i should actually change it#again obvious but i’m usually miles behind bc my brain… isn’t great is probably the kindest way i could put that#and that’s okay. like it’s hard but it’s okay#even if i’m living out my teenage years and doing the things i’d wished i’d done then at 25+ that’s fine#there’s a whole fucking world outside my bedroom door so maybe i should go actually see it?
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