#but hes a whole ass person who never got brought back to life

[bloobharry]

How’s your head? H.S

She never thought she’d be into something like this.

Something which reduced her to such a filthy, whiney mess.

That too from her best friend.

Or,

Harry is Y/N’s best friend, and he just wants the best for her.

Content warning: mature content.

Word count: 3.8K

When Y/N told Harry she wanted to hang out with him Friday afternoon, she didn’t quite think it would end up like this.

The original plan was to essentially do nothing all night. After a long, tiring week at work, nothing satisfied Y/N more than lazing around on her couch and snacking on all the chocolate sitting in her pantry she had been fantasising about having while at her desk. It was always nice to have someone do these things with you, though, where both parties could lie in silence, munch on snacks and glue their eyes to the television to forget everything that happened in the past workdays.

Y/N quickly realised Harry was the perfect person for this. He didn’t have much going on for him either so there was no reason why he would turn down a night of gorging Y/N’s pantry and flopping over her hunched body on the sofa so they could watch whatever show she was recently obsessing over.

And that was how the night started.

Harry came over at about 7, with a pizza for takeaway and a large soda, and claimed the furthest right corner of the couch, snuggled up with Y/N’s cat Lola. While Lola took her time sniffing Harry’s fingers and tentatively licking his knuckles, Y/N warmed up some popcorn and ruffled Harry’s hair as she walked past him to her spot on the other end of the sofa. “Heeeeeey,” he began, a furrow in his brows, “you can’t just do that. I put a lot of work into making it look this good.” Y/N rolled her eyes, “if it looks like that after all the work I’m afraid you’re not doing enough, Harry.” He didn’t say anything, only scoffed and shoved her legs slightly from where she had swung them on his lap, “you need to pull that stick out of your ass. Let off some steam or something.”

“Right and do you want to volunteer as my punching bag?” She retorted. She wasn’t really trying to be mean, a teasing grin on her lips when he feigned offence once more, “that’s not what I meant. There are other ways to release tension, you know,” he said.

“Harry, if you want me to drop-kick you, just say i—“

“What I want is for you to go out and get a good dicking so you can stop being such a menace to me.”

“I’m not being a menace, this is just how I am. I thought you’d know that by now.” Y/N’s eyes widen, looking at him like she can’t believe he hadn’t realised her quip-y and teasing comments have been entirely satire. “Menace or not, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been on edge lately and could go for an orgasm not brought to you by your vibrator.”

“Harry!”

”What? I’m just saying,” he said through a smirk. Y/N’s eyes narrow at his dishevelled sight, his hair just touching his collarbones and his black sweater swallowing him whole. “My orgasms are perfectly fine, thank you. And my vibrator does a very good job at helping me ‘let off steam’.”

He sighs, almost mockingly. “When’s the last time you got laid?”

“Why would I tell you?”

”Because I’m your friend. I promise I’m just trying to help,” he says sincerely. The dim lighting of the living room made his eyes sparkle and Y/N avoided eye contact by fiddling with her fingers.

God, there was just something about the fucker that made a person want to spill every secret before his jade gaze. “I dunno. Maybe five, six months?”

“Jesus Christ Y/N, what the fuck? Weren’t you seeing Daniel like 3 weeks ago?” His voice goes up a few octaves, looking at her all bewildered. “It’s Danny,” she corrected him, “and I stopped texting him a while back. He was a bore in real life and quite frankly, a bore in bed.” Danny was one of Y/N’s coworkers' brothers who she had tried setting her up with, and Y/N did have some fun with him at first. It was always nice having someone to flirt with back and forth and get compliments from every now and then but he just never scratched that itch for Y/N. She ended up ghosting him 2 dates in and she knows that's a dick move, but really a second more of listening to him go on and on about his mum and how much his new PC game cost would make Y/N want to gauge out her own eyeballs with a dinner fork.

“Did he ever get you off?” Harry asked. Y/N was incredibly appalled, not appreciating his prying hands all over her sex life. Or lack thereof. “No and that’s none of your business anyway, jeez.”

“There you go again, snapping at me. You know if you’ll ask me nicely I’ll stop.” He sat up against the arm rest, fingers grazing her bare leg from when he pulled it back on his lap. Y/N knew she could ask him to stop asking her all these questions and he would, but was it really a conversation with her if she wasn’t being at least a little bit hard to read?

Besides, maybe it would do her some good talking about it and whatever advice he had might actually help her out. Harry seemed to be more than well-equipped when it came to charming the heck out of someone and working his way into their pants. “Sorry,” she sighed, rubbing her eye, “no, he didn’t get me off. We never actually had sex, I just gave him a blowie once and he tried to go down on me.”

Harry smiled softly knowing he got her to crack and squeezed her calf, “tried?” He knew he was treading on dangerous waters here, wedging his fingers between Y/N’s brain and asking her to recall her time with Danny.

“Yes, tried. It was fucking awful.”

She didn’t meet his eyes, busying herself with the strings on her hoodie, “and he definitely came in your mouth?” Y/N’s cheeks went pink, and she quickly pulled her legs away from him, “Harry!” Her voice was high pitched and defensive, and while her mind told her that maybe confiding all this in Harry isn’t the smartest thing, her heart wanted to see where an odd conversation like this could lead.

“I’m just asking!”

She hesitated, narrowing her eyes. “Yeah.”

“Well fuck, Y/N, sorry to say it but you were seeing an absolute douche.” Harry makes this diagnosis like Y/N didn’t already know, his fingers reaching for her legs again, tugging them onto his thighs with a strength that made her tummy flip. He ran a hand through his unruly hair. “I know. It was fun but I didn’t want anything more with him.”

“Good. But you still need a good fuck. One where you actually get to come and don’t come back home all high and dry.”

Y/N gasps, trying to get off him again but Harry holds her down, laughing at her bright red embarrassed face, “you’re such a dick I hate you.”

His dimples dug deep into the soft of his cheeks, and he pulled her legs so she was sitting much closer to him. Her ass touched the edge of his thighs and she could feel the warmth radiating off of him, making her skin even hotter. Y/N remained frowning, shoving his chest when he wouldn’t stop giggling, “stop laughing, Harry!” For obvious reasons that doesn’t work and the little genuine crink in her eyebrows had him almost cooing and smiling wide at the same time. When she didn’t let up the frown and tried to move back to her spot, Harry only grabbed her hips and pulled her back, close enough that her ass was now on top of his thighs, “okay, okay I’m sorry. You’ve got a really funny angry face.”

Y/N was near seething at this point, gearing up for an attack, “I’ll show you an angry face,” she tried lunging for his hair again but very quickly realised she failed to take into consideration her position when he instantly caught her wrists in between his long fingers, holding them tight but not enough to hurt her, “okay, John Cena let’s take a breather.”

God, was he able to make her skin absolutely crawl at times. He was still holding her wrists when he brought them down, watching her blazingly. She didn’t realise how far she had shuffled into his lap and how close his face was to hers until now. Until she could smell the strawberry mints he was sucking on on his breath.

She made a half-hearted attempt to smack his chest, but his hold only tightened around her, suddenly dragging her even closer to him over the soft fabric of his sweats. Y/N held her breath. He was too close to her, his nose daring to touch hers. She’d never been in such a vulnerable position with him and she might possibly just faint if he didn’t stop staring at her mouth and then her eyes, flicking his gaze between the two like he couldn’t decide where to settle.

She moved her head back, trying to create some space between the pair, “what are you doing Harry.” The sound she makes is an odd one— one that she doesn’t make often and it’s desperate and needy, akin to a weepy whine. His fingers finally loosened enough for her to break free and she quickly moved her face away from his where it seems like it was magnetically pulling her closer and closer.

Harry didn’t say anything for a while and Y/N found herself frozen in her spot, still right on his lap. “What’s going on here, hmm?” He said, glancing down.

Y/N followed his gaze, confused at first and it took her a moment to realise what he was insinuating. His fingers grazed her hips. “What’s got you all squirmy on my lap?”

He was still staring right into her eyes, making her go crazy with the stolen glances at her lips with every passing second. Meanwhile Y/N’s chest heaved and she unintentionally shuffles again, “fuck, Y/N.” Harry’s voice was deep and groan-y, vibrating through her body when his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “I’m not squirmy, Harry shut up.” She was lying right to his face and her poor attempt at covering her actions made him laugh again. The sound was teasing, nothing like the light-hearted giggles spilling from his lips when he found her angry face amusing.

“You’re a terrible liar, Y/N.” His fingers fell to her upper thighs, which he gripped harshly. Only then when she couldn’t move did Y/N realise she really was practically rubbing herself against him, milking even the slightest pressure against her heat from his warm, pliant lap. Her face pinkened again, embarrassment coursing through her veins and making her want to dig a hole and hide in it forever. She couldn’t believe what she had just been caught doing.

Y/N expected him to fully push her off his lap, disgusted by her basically humping his leg, but he didn’t.

Instead, he dug his fingers into her skin and slowly helped her move back and forth, pushing her down just slightly to give her the friction she was searching for. Y/N’s mouth dropped open in another little whine.

“Will you let me, then?” His eyes searched hers, gaze sincere, though Y/N didn’t know what he was implying, only half listening to him. She was clearly preoccupied with the delicious pressure pressing right up against her clothed clit.

“What?”

Harry laughed, a large, ringed hand slipping over her ass to squeeze lightly. “I said, will you let me make you feel good? Help you relax? Have you gone dumb already, baby?” Y/N couldn’t really do much other than nod frantically, afraid he might pull away if she didn’t say yes. The pet name melts her even further, paired with the way he was holding her like he was going to swallow her whole made her insides slosh.

She preens under his gaze, now holding the front of his sweater tightly between her fingers. “Yes,” Y/N breathed, “yes please.”

Harry wondered for a second if she was agreeing to being cockdumb or agreeing to him touching her but nonetheless he took it as his queue to push her off his lap and position her the way he wanted.

“I—what, I thought you we—“ Y/N protests, neediness evident in her voice and her hands which chased after his warmth, like she was afraid he was going to leave her be in this desperate state. Harry only pressed on her shoulder until she laid back on her back, hands coming to part her legs so he could fit between them, “shh.” A wet kiss was pressed to her cheek, like comforting a rabid animal, which Y/N was feeling exactly like as she stared at Harry’s frame cowering hers.

His curls hung past his ears and tickled her face when he slotted his hips between her legs so she could continue grinding down on him, “who knew you were such a needy little thing?” Y/N sighed in response. Another suckling kiss was pressed to her jaw, “do you need me to make you feel good, baby? Hmm? Need me to make it better?”

The way he was talking to her made her feral.

She had trouble believing this was the same Harry who irritated her to no end and pushed all her buttons to rile her up. Except this time he was pushing other kinds of buttons, moving his body around hers so perfectly Y/N wondered if this was like second nature to him.

“Yes. Please don’t tease me.” She commanded him and Harry chuckled at her desperation, lips sponging these warm, slow, gooey kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. When she went to sift her fingers through his curly hair, he pulled back to look at her. “You’re so bossy,” he accuses, pulling her thighs further up his hips, “it’s okay though. I’ll fuck the attitude right of you.” He grinded down against her, one strong roll of his bulge against her heat. “Are we going to have sex, Harry?”

“No.” He grinned.

“Why?” Y/N’s eyes crinkled in pain like he just told her her cat died and her lip jutted out in a pout which Harry quickly tucked away with his thumb. “Because,” he started, using that same hand to wrap around her throat, “we need to talk about that before we do anything. Don’t want to lose my best friend, do I?”

His rejection almost made Y/N cry and she would have had Harry not tightened his hand around her jugular. The cold press of his rings sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. “Why would you say anything then?” She asked, craning her neck to allow him more room to cover with his palm.

“I said I won’t have sex with you. Didn’t say I wouldn’t make you feel good.”

With that, he took the hand that made a home around her throat and patted her cheek, hard enough that the feeling went straight down to her tummy but soft enough that it didn’t hurt her like someone might think it would. He crawled further down her body, shoving her hoodie up with his hands and exposing her stomach to the cold air of the room. Y/N thinks he was trying to keep up some boundaries, bunching the shirt just below her tits like protecting some kind of modesty and pressing ticklish kisses across her skin and down her belly button. Her body tingled with anticipation, breath bated and eyes glazed as she watched him.

She felt him nuzzle into her tummy and inhale loudly, “you smell so fucking good.” Y/N giggled, taking pride in her extensive shower routine and incessant rubbing of various lotions into her skin, “thank you.”

When his mouth reached the waistband of her tiny shorts he murmured a small, “can I take these off?” To which Y/N hummed in agreement. She couldn’t agree with anything more. If Harry walked up and out of this room right now, Y/N was certain she would die.

Once they’re off, Y/N realised she was completely at his mercy. Her underwear is the only thing protecting her modesty, and with how wet she’s feeling, she doubts there’s anything left to the imagination down there, “would you look at that. You’ve soaked right through.” His fingers toyed with the edge of her wet gusset.

Another embarrassingly desperate sound left her throat and she pushed her hips in the air in search of some friction. Harry delivered a harsh slap to her thigh, “don’t move.”

His stern voice did unimaginable things for her but she complied and tried to stay as still as she could, which seemed like a task for the impossible with the teasing touches Harry delivered to her skin.

She never thought she’d be into something like this.

Something which reduces her to such a filthy, whiney mess.

That too from her best friend.

Harry doesn’t do anything for a while, just admiring how her pussy looked soaked through her panties, playing around with the lace lining of the fabric. He grabbed the gusset and pulled it tight against her so her folds swallow the cotton, “fuck. A little manhandling and this is what happens?” He more so makes a statement rather than asking her, punctuating his words by leaning down to lick a wide, sloppy strip across the cloth. It makes Y/N squeal and attempt to shut her thighs but Harry makes sure to hold her down, biceps bulging.

He pulled back to drop his fingers firmly against her clit, just keeping them there pressed tightly, feeling her heartbeat against the tips. “I thought I told you not to move.”

“Yes, I’m sorry please, please don’t stop.”

He went back to nosing at her covered clit, not making any attempt to wrap his lips around it. At this point Y/N was itching in anticipation, every ounce of her working not to rut her hips in his face and ride his tongue like she wanted to. When he finally touches her again, it's where the wetness pooled, soft suckling kisses over the fabric which made Y/N’s heart and pussy flutter.

She was incredibly frustrated, wanting nothing more than to rip her underwear off and shove his face into her but she held back, not sure if Harry would appreciate that after he made it clear time and time again how he preferred her to remain immobile while he played with her. Instead she waited until he was through with kissing every inch of her and when he finally peeled off her panties, she could practically come just from the prospect of having his mouth on her.

He doesn’t give her a second to think though, because his mouth is unrelenting. Teasing the tip of her button with his tongue before circling his lips around it and suckling in sweet, soft pulses. The sensation has her panting and gasping, squeezing his head between her thighs while one of his arms swung across her hips to keep her down and the other wiggled between the two to push her lips apart in a V shape. With her clit now exposed to the cool air, Harry zeroed in on the nerve and worked magic with his tongue, flicking it up, down, left, right and circling the button with such fevor Y/N could burst.

What electrified the experience was the sounds in the room, which were just sinful.

Her pussy squelched with each suckle Harry gave, making Y/N moan and pull Harry’s curls which in turn had him groaning lowly against her. It was an endless cycle of pornographic music.

When he pulls away from her clit, the pulsing it does is almost amusing, like it was personally begging for Harry’s attention. Instead he kissed down the length of her slit and took his time playing around with her folds, slicking her hole and letting his spit drip down to her ass.

It was so perfect and messy.

Before she knew it, Y/N’s thighs were shaking and Harry’s tongue was back to abuse her poor button. A couple more flicks and a harsh kiss pushed Y/N over the edge, her orgasm washing over her and nearly blinding her. It’s euphoric and the most intense she’s ever felt, no vibrator of hers or cock she’s ever had compared to what she was feeling and even then Harry didn’t let up on her pussy. He continued his assault, now both of his arms locking around her hips to tone down her thrashing. Only when she pushed his forehead away did he finally depart with a final lick across her slit and smiled at her fucked-out state.

He wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb and brought it to his lips, sitting up between her legs which she clinked shut. A second passes.

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s eyes were shut, an arm thrown across her forehead. “I think so.”

Harry giggled, leaning over her to remove her arm, “how’s it feel?”

“S’good. It was really nice. Thanks.” She was slightly dazed, too far gone to really understand what was going on. Her limbs felt like jell-o and she let Harry kiss her cheek again before lending her a hand to help her sit up. “I’m glad. Come on now. We need to clean you up.”

She doesn't know how she stood up from that godforsaken couch and how she made it to the bathroom, Lola returning from her retreat to her bedroom to wind around her ankles. Harry bent down to pet between her ears, “hello babydoll. Did you miss me?” He cooed.

She looked down at the pair and Harry easily sensed her wary gaze. A dashing smile was sent her way. “Do you need me to get you some underwear? Or are you afraid I’ll stumble across your array of sex toys?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. He was still the Harry she knew before he gave her the best head she ever received.

“You’re such a dick.”

“A dick that gave you the best orgasm of your life.” She couldn’t even argue with him on that. Instead, she flipped him off and disappeared into her room. Once she was all changed and wearing a fresh pair of undies and shorts, she walked out to see Harry passed out on the couch with Lola snuggled into his throat. It was then when her head finally returned to the ground and she realised the gravity of the situation.

The looming prospect of a long, painful chat in the morning hung over Y/N like a dark cloud, filling her with a gnawing sense of dread she suddenly couldn’t seem to shake.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Hiiiii i hope you like this one, first time posting in a long time so feeling a little nervous omg … leave feedback if you have any!!! Mwuahh

#harry styles #one direction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #one direction fanfiction #writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles Drabble #Harry styles au #bloobharry

[oifaaa]

You're giving the whole batfamily the Batman Beyond experience. Was Jason that important or do these people just suck at relationships and normal lives?

First of all it's the bats so yeah obviously they just suck at healthy relationships and secondly I did want to originally call this my beyond au that being said I do think both Bruce and gotham are actually doing fairly okay in this au especially gotham as I'm an optimistic that believes that Bruces hard work would pay off in the end - also while half of Bruce's kids may be on bad terms with him he's still got cass steph duke and damian* on good terms with him which is marginally better then Bruce in batman beyond who started the series with just ace

#ask #anon #but yeah i think one of the reasons Bruce did agree to retire #is bc his whole family came together to ask him to #even Dick and tim who aren't really on speaking terms with him #also jason is and isn't important #hes more important in a stepping on a butterfly type way #but hes a whole ass person who never got brought back to life #thats gonna cause some ripples #so i guess what im saying is #jason not coming back to life is what caused tims divorces

[sukunasweetheart]

👀👉🏾👈🏾 Sukuna x Reader ex's to lovers?

wowowow i cant believe im doing like another celebrity au again but here goes nothing ahaha...

i love this trope, i ended up writing a WHOLE, lengthy ass, detailed plotline on it i hope u dont mind <3 (A WHOLE WHOPPING 6K WORDS YALL)

prepare for hella angst, OOC sukuna, insecure fem!reader, ghosting, messy break up, conflicting and complicated feelings + sexual tension and then intense smut @ the end (make up sex)

imagine sukuna being like, an amateur model-turned-actor, with you being his highschool sweetheart, who was there to support him since day one

a very happy, fulfilling relationship for the most part-- until he starts gaining huge amounts of popularity.

youve always known that he was meant and born to reach sky-high levels of success, and you were certain he was going to make it one day

but things get rockier by the second, and insecurity is such an ugly, ugly thing

seeing him model with other beautiful celebrities, acting in roles where he had a love interest to kiss and fondle, reading those gossip scandal articles involving him and another party every few months or so-

it all got too much for you.

all you needed was some reassurance... but young and vivacious sukuna, drunk on this fame and attention, failed to recognise that and left you feeling neglected.

not on purpose tho, he's never engaged in infidelity, he's never gazed upon someone else with lust or love on his mind - he was using everyone around him as a stepping stone towards his own career

sukuna's known you since forever, and he was confident that you knew his affection for you was unwavering... so he failed to understand where you were coming from whenever you brought these things up

arguments after arguments after arguments

the worst part of it was that he wanted to keep his relationship with you a secret. saying something about how having a significant other would slow his progress in his career down... the decision was urged on by the entertainment company that he was in a contract with

it hurt so damn much when he was being interviewed on tv about his romantic life, only for him to tell the world he was single.

it leads to more arguing.

of course, as a rising celebrity, he was quite awfully busy with many business trips and attending a lot of parties and galas

another terrible fight occurred right before he had to leave for a flight overseas but by then, youd pretty much already decided that you were going to leave him

you basically ghosted him, packing all your belongings overnight, blocking his number and all his social media accounts, making sure even all yours and his mutual friends didn't know of your whereabouts. you're going to start fresh. and give him no closure.

it was petty revenge, and maybe immature of you, but you were just as young as he was, and you wanted him to hurt as badly as you were hurting back then.

sukuna's still overseas, having just come back from another fancy gathering and is fresh out of the shower, in his hotel room... he decides he's gonna try and give you a call, but ofc you don't pick up

he sighs and convinces himself that he'll sort things out with you later when he gets back, not knowing that there won't be a 'later'.

meanwhile you're dragging a suitcase out of the apartment, taking a taxi somewhere else far away, crying as you pass by giant billboards that have pictures of sukuna plastered all over

he feels like such a faraway person now. no longer someone who you used to cuddle closely in bed, or hold hands with. you're not even sure of who you are without him anymore.

you could imagine his reaction when he came home, only to find your entire existence missing. seriously, it was like you were never there. you left nothing of yours behind, and the place was cleaned spick and span, not a hair of yours to be found.

when was the last time sukuna felt so panicked?? this dull ache in his chest, as he spams you calls and texts that never reach you

he contacts mutual friends in rotation but everyone is absolutely clueless... he considers filing a missing persons case but then a trusted friend of yours tells him to not look for you... and that you wanted them to relay a message to him, just a simple goodbye.

what the fuck are you talking about?

oh, here comes a severe headache.

his mind is whirring with overlapping memories, thoughts, regrets, thinking about any clues that might give away where you couldve gone, but theres simply nothing

the shock moves into sorrow, then denial, and then it turns to anger. does he mean nothing to you? so much so that youd abandon him without saying a word?

its like he was going through the five stages of grief, but for someone who he knew was still alive..

eventually, he finds a rebound out of spite. if youve left him, then it's means he's free and single, right? he gets himself piss-drunk, and beds another, only to wake up feeling absolutely disgusted. it feels like... it feels like he's cheated on you. even though you're already gone. he's just a mess of conflicting emotions, and it lasts for so long.

the reason why he doesnt hire someone or use some other underhanded method to actually look for you is because of a weird mixture of both his pride and feelings of insecurity, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you do deserve someone better, someone who understands you more... (and he's also fearful that someone like you, might've already found love somewhere else, and he's definitely not confident that he'll be able to act maturely if he sees its true)

eventually, acceptance does come... but does it really?

i like to think he went through many failed relationships, his partners always leaving him upon witnessing him getting intoxicated and calling for none other than your name in his state. someone who no one around him knows anymore.

years pass, and time really does allow you to forget. for both you and sukuna alike. in your mid thirties, both of you are single at this time.

you've been busy with your new job at some company (dont ask me, i was too lazy to decide what kind, so u guys can make this one up bye), and he made sure to keep himself busy as well. no time for fleeting romance.

of course, until fate does that weird thing where it pushes people together again... a new project lands in your lap, where it involves some kind of collaboration with THE celebrity, ryomen sukuna. of fucking course.

you really did desperately try to get it off and pass this off to some other colleague but they insisted your involvement was necessary. what are you supposed to do? you almost decide to quit... but this job means a lot to you... you can't just throw everything away because of an ex... right?

and, oh my god, when the first meeting does happen, involving the celebrity himself, you and a couple other coworkers to discuss the project, sukuna sees you and his brain short circuits for a moment.

he starts doubting his own vision, and then he reminisces, in the middle of whatever the fuck everyone else was talking about during the meeting.

"... Mr. Ryomen?" one of the other participants ask.

he clears his throat, regains his composure and regathers his focus. he's an actor for god's sake. and he starts speaking, with thoughts of you in the back of his mind. about how much youve changed, but also remained exactly the same...

during introductions, you shake his hand and act professionally. his eye twitches. will you continue to pretend not to know him even afterwards? should he talk to you separately after this? no... doing that would mean he's the desperate one...

when you saw sukuna hesitating, part of you felt relieved. so you're not the only one getting freaked out. you don't expect him to acknowledge you anymore, though.

after the meeting, he walks out feeling confident that he's going to ignore you back, if this was the kind of game you're going to play with him. you mean nothing to him, just as he means nothing to you.

but he remembers the shock that went down his spine at the feeling of the warmth in your hand. he watches you take an elevator by yourself, and tries to make a split second decision on whether he wants to let you go, or if he wants to chase you down.

he probably shouldn't bother.

but he impulsively speed walks down towards you, anyway.

youre startled when the elevator doors are blocked from closing just at the last second, with someone's arm coming through between. your heart skips a beat seeing that it's none other than sukuna.

what is this sensation? this mix of fear and... excitement. you should be unperturbed. you're over him. he's someone from the past. you're buzzing with these feelings, but there also comes a creeping resentment that finds its way to you again, as you try to remember why you left him in the first place.

he unclicks whatever level you were heading to, and clicks on the highest level instead. he's gonna take you to the rooftop of the building, where he can confront you peacefully.

"Mr. Ryomen? Is there something wrong?" you ask him. still feigning ignorance. like salt to a wound. you know its another petty move from your part, but you can't help yourself.

"Don't call me that. You know damn well why I'm here," Sukuna drawls, sounding more sad than angry. they've really become strangers.

you grow silent, being hit with a pang of guilt. deep down, you knew you shouldve handled it more maturely than that. he deserved closure, and you needed it too. but isn't it too late for all that now?

the conversation flows tense, but unravels slowly. there's still a lot of questions being withheld though. he wants to ask you how youve been. were you able to sleep peacefully after you left him? why did you have to leave in the worst way possible?

a familiar headache creeps up.

simultaneously, the anger finds its way in his heart all over again. he knows he didn't do much good towards the end of their relationship either but ghosting him was plain disrespectful and childish.

you surprise him when you give a sudden heartfelt apology.

you tell him that you know apologising now after all these years is frankly almost meaningless but still, he didnt deserve to be left behind in that kind of way. you admit that you should've communicated with him properly that you were breaking up with him.

he's left kinda speechless, bc he was so ready to be all snarky to you after everything.. he's still mad, but he can't really say shit anymore without sounding like too much of an asshole.

truth be told, if you did stay around to tell him that you were breaking up with him beforehand, he probably wouldn't have let you go... where would you guys be now, if you never separated?

"i've always wanted to apologise. it's been weighing on me ever since i left."

...and yet, you didn't ever think to call or text him even once afterwards? he never changed his number in hopes for that, and he hates himself for it.

"i understand that you hate me now, but let's try to get through the collaboration without trouble. and then we can part ways again."

that one pierces his heart, like a bullet. you haven't said anything technically wrong. he should hate you. or at least, he should feel indifferent by now. and yet... the way that you automatically assume so irks him badly.

"do you really believe that i hate you? aren't you the one that hates me?"

it's a stupid fucking question. what the fuck is he even saying? he wants to kick the elevator door.

"...i left because i thought you hated me, that you didn't need me anymore. and i tried to convince myself that i hated you too. but that couldn't be further from the truth. even now, i don't ha-"

before you can say any more, the elevator doors open, and a small group of employees are standing outside them, looking curiously in at you and sukuna. then, they realise who he is. they come flocking in, asking for autographs and pictures.

you quietly slip out of the crowd, and after giving one quick glance at sukuna, who visibly wants to pursue you again, you walk away to avoid gathering attention on yourself. wait-! dammit- he thinks.

he can't chase after you. he can't call out for you to stop. he can't push all of these people away. if he did, it will cause rumours and unfavourable articles to fly out. let's try to get through the collaboration without trouble. his own fame becomes another obstacle between you and him.

back then, you were his whole world, yet somewhere along the path, he started to fail in making you feel like it.

he watches you take the fire exit towards the emergency stairs, while he's surrounded by overbearing fans who beg for his attention. you're going to have to walk down in your heels, all because of him. as he catches the final glimpse of you, as he's reluctantly dealing with his fans, he begins to understand, a little bit. he didn't want to understand why you decided to leave him. but he does now. a little.

a couple of stairwells down, you eventually pause for a moment and sit down on the last step to take a breather. you wipe your sweaty palms against your skirt. the familiar tug at your heart, in which your insecurities come flowing back to you, seeing him surrounded. you need to build higher, stronger walls around you from now.

when sukuna is done on his end, and sends them off down the elevator, he goes off to check down the stairs you went, but you've already booked it. slipped right through his fingers. you were about to say something important. with unresolved feelings, sukuna also takes the stairs down, with a heavy heart. each step down brings him another old, nostalgic memory of you to him.

from then on, the more he interacts with you during work-related matters, the more apparent it becomes that he still harbors feelings for you. he tries to ignore it, push it back down, but it only returns twice as overwhelming.

your voice. the way you smile. the scent of your perfume. exactly the same as back then. yet, he also observes the changes that have occurred in you; how you act, speak and the kinds of words you use, as well as seeing you in such a professional setting rather than personal - everything is coming together to allure him more, and he's in a state where he's unable to resist this attraction, but also unable to act on it, because he's not sure how you'd react to it.

he knows it's not just him getting drunk on nostalgia.

the next time he catches you alone, he makes sure to tell you that he doesn't hate you like you believe he does. you'd never admit it, but that gave you butterflies in your stomach.

in fact, everything sukuna does, even just locking eyes with you for a few seconds, is enough to make your heart rate increase, intensifying when he looks at you almost like... almost like he wants you. you must be imagining things.

he finds himself doing uncharacteristic deeds, like sending coffee for all the staff members. his manager passes them out to everybody, including you. he doesn't know if you still like your coffee the same way as he remembers, but he makes sure that yours is a little different, a little more specific than everyone else's, in hopes that you'll notice these small gestures of his.

over the course of the project, he inches closer to you, ever so slowly. but you don't seem to budge. even worse, you seem to be avoiding him as much as you possibly can. you avert your gaze from his. stagger away when he gets close.

he brings it up on one occasion, when he's able to approach you at the back of the building, where there's no one around, and no watchful eyes of a nosy audience. it's definitely frustrating and unpleasant- when he wants to speak with you, he has to keep distance in case another scandal rises. he doesn't want to drag you into the spotlight, without knowing if you're okay with it first.

sukuna only really talks to you when there's nobody around. maybe he's being considerate of you, but it gives you the impression that he doesn't want to be seen hanging around with you. it makes you remember things you don't want to. it makes you remember that being with him now requires a courage that you're not sure that you have. at the very least, you know you definitely didn't have it back then.

you keep conversations short with him, and try to leave. but he keeps at it persistently. what is he trying to do? is he toying with you?

"you're acting like you want us to get back together. don't do things that'll make me misunderstand," you tell him. you were trying to provoke him. expecting him to deny it harshly and back away, because you knew he was prideful- he'd never be caught being hung up over an ex.

"...and? what if i told you that i do want that? would you stop avoiding me then?" he takes one step forward, and you take one back, proving his point.

why is he pushing aside his ego for you? where did all his arrogance go off to? this isn't how the sukuna in his twenties would've responded. his answer makes you waver, and you don't appreciate that. you try not to show it.

"no. i'd only begin to avoid you even more. so don't start."

"i'm not," you deny, but your voice betrays you. he clings onto that.

"why? ...afraid that you'd cave in to me?"

like the way he's already pretty much caved in for you?

"you don't sound very convincing."

"...would you want someone who'd choose their career over you?"

that stops him in his tracks. he has nothing to say to that. because he did make that mistake. where he prioritised his job over your feelings.

"i don't hate or blame you for that anymore, sukuna. but you have to understand... i don't want to go through that pain ever again. i don't want to hold you back. we both deserve more compatible partners."

your own words sting yourself, and you try to go again right after saying that, because it's getting too much for you. his hand flies out to grab yours out of instinct, to stop you from leaving. leaving him again.

it's really not like him to be the clingy ex, pathetically begging to be taken back, but he's willing to throw such pride away if it means you'll be appeased. if you'll let him back into your life again.

"don't say that. you never held me back-- you were my home and my everything, and i was the one that started to take you for granted," he says gently, his low voice laced with sorrow, so uncharacteristically. you've only ever heard this kind of tone from him once before, and it was when his grandfather, who was like a parent to him, had passed away. his thumb brushes over your hand.

"give me another chance. this time i'll let the whole world know about us. about how much you mean to me."

he gets in close ever so slowly, and you let him, for only a moment, before gently pushing him away, with a hand on his chest.

sukuna hitches in a breath, heart sinking to his stomach. he wants to embrace you so, so, so bad. he needs your warmth. always has been. always will. but he sees that you're unrelenting, which breaks him.

"no, stop... i'm sorry, i can't."

you're still scared. you keep thinking about how lonely you felt when you were with him, at least right before the break up. seeing him laughing through the tv screen. alone in the living room. and all the arguments.

your hand slips out of his, and he lets you go. he feels empty when you walk away. hollow. the similar feeling he felt when you first left him, but less anguish and more despair. when he gets home, he tries to drink those feelings away. something he rarely does. old regrets and heartaches return, and he drinks until he passes out.

while he drinks, you weep. crying into your pillow, wondering if you're doing the right thing. wondering if this is how it's supposed to be. terrified of being with him again, but also terrified of losing him, like a hypocrite.

from then on, sukuna keeps a respectful distance from you... no longer trying to make approaches in secret, no longer pursuing you every chance he gets. but he still sends out coffee. even provides snacks to the crew. little do they know, they're the kinds of snacks that he knows you loved. hopefully, you still do. he'll keep his distance because it's what you want, but he wishes to keep doing these little things for you. subtly.

and you notice it, too. you have vivid memories of telling him about your favourites and preferences back then, and you recognise what he's trying to do. you drink the coffee. and you always grab a handful of the snacks. you do appreciate it. it makes you happy that he remembers. on a few occasions, you turn to look at him, only to witness him looking away at the last second.

it's not too long before the project is successfully finalised, and all their efforts have been rewarded. a celebration is due, and your boss throws a party at a fancy hotel for everyone to enjoy themselves at. sukuna had stopped going to so many gatherings and parties quite a while ago, but he attends knowing that you'll be there as well. he'll see you for the final time before he'll lose any excuses to be around you ever again. it'll be the final night.

you exchange a few words with him at the venue, but the two of you leave each other to mingle with other groups reluctantly, to avoid suspicion. both of you are quite tense all throughout the night, sipping on some wine to ease it, but it still doesn't relax the tension you feel, no matter how far away sukuna stands from you.

a few hours in, and you decide to excuse yourself early to head up into your designated hotel room. your boss covered the expenses for a night, and it would've been a waste to decline it, so you decided to stay. sukuna isn't around anywhere at the venue anymore, so you assume he's already left. you thought about saying farewell, but it didn't seem appropriate after you flat out rejected him. you still have doubts about the decision. because you miss him. but what's done is done, and you can't take back what you've already said.

however, getting to the hotel elevator, you notice he's standing there, with miraculous timing. you awkwardly "hey" him, and he says it back, hands in his pockets.

the two of you step inside when it arrives, and the thick tension remains.

"i'm surprised. i thought you'd be staying around longer for the party," you tell him.

he can't tell you that he found it unbearable, to see you hanging around other people, but being unable to get closer to you himself.

"i just got a bit tired," he lies. "did you have a lot to drink?"

"not at all. i had a few glasses, but i'm still sober."

"same here."

as the lift gets closer to your level, you get antsy, thinking about what to say before you leave, but your thoughts get interrupted when he asks you something abruptly.

"...can i walk you to your room? for the last time."

you swallow thickly on nothing, and feel how your chest aches at the words. last time.

"alright. sure," you say.

he wasn't expecting you to say yes, but he's glad you're letting him stay beside you a little longer. you're staring at the elevator doors, but he's looking at your face from the side. if only the lift would malfunction and stop, right here.

but it doesn't, and soon, he's really walking beside you as you get to your hotel room door, in silence. you unlock it using your key, and then that's it.

"thanks for walking me here," you say rather sheepishly. the thought of him wanting to spend even a few more seconds with you... your hold on the door knob is tight as you stand, face turned around to look at him. it's taking everything in you to stand your ground. last minute guilt and regrets are bombarding your thoughts, and...

"i'll say this now because i probably won't get another chance again," sukuna starts, looking directly into your eyes. his eyes are mellow, and he looks wistful.

"i'm sorry. i realised i never apologised, even though that's the first thing you did for me," he starts. he knows there's a mountain of reasons he is apologising for, but he decides he'll keep this short for your sake.

".. i can't lie to you and say that i wish for your happiness with someone else. 'm not that nice." you know it the best. and you understand, because you don't think you'd be able to withstand seeing him happy with someone else, either.

"find your happiness elsewhere, thanks," he grunts humorously. for god's sake. he's never been good at things like this. being heartfelt. at least it made you chuckle a bit. his expression of indignation melts away into a melancholic one again.

"i still love you." (always have, always will.)

you fight back sudden tears, and your throat begins to ache. sukuna unclenches his fist, and tries to relax himself more.

"and...i'll miss you," he breathes the phrase out. says it so quietly, like it hurts for him to say. (i don't want to let you go.)

something snaps within you and everything starts to scream at you to take everything back, and stop him from going away. don't go- don't go- don't go-

"...goodnight."

he notices your wet eyes, and he has to fight back against the urge to reach out and wipe it away. to rescind his farewell, and pull you into his arms again - forcefully, if he has to. he needs to leave, before he loses control.

you're panicking, and your vision is swimming, and you don't think you'll ever be happy again if you let him go like this-- you're gonna be heartbroken in the worst way imaginable. you want him back, and you know you're being unreasonable after turning him down like that, but you don't care anymore. you want to go against your fears. you want to try being with him again.

before you can stop yourself, your hand catches onto the hem of sukuna's sleeve, seconds before he takes another step away from you.

his eyes widen, and he looks at your grip on his sleeve, like he's checking to see if it's real, and he's not making this shit up in his mind. his heart beats impossibly fast. his hopes skyrocket. the world decided to have mercy on him.

"...you're being unfair, grabbing onto me like this. after i went through hell just now, trying to say goodbye." he's being awfully patient right now.

you don't respond, only silently weeping.

he waits to see if you'll let go, whether this was just an act out of a temporary fickle in your heart, but your grip remains tight, and you're now just looking up at him with tears rolling down, eyes glossy and desperate, pulling at his heart strings. you only let go when he comes back to you, not hesitant to brush his thumbs across your face now, wiping the wetness away.

"what do you want me to do? tell me, and i'll do it. leave? stay?" sukuna coos at you, like he's always done before, waiting patiently until you've calmed down enough to respond properly.

"i shouldn't... i shouldn't let you in. not after how much i'd pushed you away," you whisper. today was supposed to mark the end of it all.

he doesn't even give a fuck about that anymore. what matters is now.

"...but do you want to let me in?"

"...yes," you hic.

he takes a couple of steps forward, making you step back with him, his hand on your waist to make sure you don't trip on the way. he goes past the doorway and into your hotel room slowly. one- two- three- steps. he closes the door behind him quietly.

"and..? what next?" he asks in a low voice, standing close to you, one hand still remaining on your waist, and the other on your upperarm.

"i... i don't know. i just need you," you mumble, looking up at him, eyes red from crying and half-closed. your hands inch up along his back, grabbing handfuls of his suit jacket. sukuna hitches in a breath and something dark flashes across his eyes. they reflect his desire, his almost carnal desperation for you-

"forgive me. i don't think i can hold myself back, anymore."

he captures your lips in his, and groans shamelessly into you. you grip onto him tighter, heart beating so rambunctiously that you fear he can hear it too. it feels too good. the moment he reached you, it felt like the final piece of a puzzle clicking in to complete a full picture.

you part your mouth, and he wastes no time in slipping his tongue inside, kissing you in the way he knows you love, in the way it makes your lips tingle, and, oh god, even after all these years, he still knows how to get you going like no other.

sukuna tastes the traces of wine on your tongue, and even better, he tastes you, the one he'd been missing and craving all this time, the warmth of your skin and touch, your scent, just everything about you, you, you.

he backs you towards the bed, without breaking this breathless, hungry kiss, where he softly lays you down, with him being above you, chest to chest, arms supporting his weight. he momentarily pulls away from you simply just to breathe, and the two of you gaze at each other for a hot second, full of love and lust, breaths overlapping one another. he attempts to ask you "do you still wanna continue?" just in case, but before he gets to say a word, you grab him by his tie and pull his lips to yours again, beginning to loosen it and take it off.

he understands that you want it, now. you successfully manage to untie it, somehow, with just willpower alone, and you start aiming for his buttons next, undoing them one by one. your actions send sparks down to all of his limbs, and he feels so fulfilled by your desire of him, being as intense as how he obsesses over you.

soon after you're done with it, he takes them off and chucks his own clothes away, rendering him half-naked. your hole clenches around nothing at the sight once he pulls away again, his firm muscles and the same old tattoos that you vividly remembered the patterns of. you greedily run your palms across his pecs, eyes turning to hearts. he smirks at you.

it's his turn now, and he doesn't hesitate to start undressing you as well. sukuna gets dizzy at the thought of being able to feast his eyes on your body. he dives in to keep kissing you, and then begins to unbutton you with such speed, it almost startles you.

it's off. your breasts are out in the open now, and sukuna has his fill with massaging them with his large hand, having missed them so much. his palm feels so hot, and your nipples pebble up at his touch, making you gasp into his mouth.

his kiss moves over to the side of your face, it glides down your neck, shoulders, and eventually reaches the swell of your chest. your fingers brush through the pink of his hair as he does so, and you purse your lips together, basking in the feeling of his warm kisses littering your skin. he leaves you hickeys-- the same shape and size and same locations as he used to even during your days in highschool, and you chuckle to yourself at the thought.

it's not long before he's loosening your skirt and slipping your undergarments down, getting rid of your slick-stained panties, much to his satisfaction. sukuna rubs a thumb over your aroused clit, and you whimper, having missed the touch of a man- his touch specifically.

"fuck... you're so wet.... all for me?" he asks, proceeding to slip two fingers into your weeping hole. you arch your back at the feeling, how his thick digits scissor inside of you and press up against a particularly lovely spot. he watches your every response as he does so, watching how you moan because of his touch, and how you're grabbing at his wrist because it's getting too intense. his cock prods uncomfortably against his pants. you're producing so much slick, and his fingers are getting absolutely drenched.

when he takes them out, you whine a little in disappointment.

"i know, i know. i'll give you something better," he whispers, kissing your cheek.

he unbuckles himself, and lowers his boxers to reveal his aching dick, tip wet with precum, veins bulging out the sides. looks the same as you remember. he pumps it a couple of times with his hand that's still covered with your slick, and he twitches. this isn't a dream, is it?

"oh god, please, i need it-" you plead, your hole feeling eager and empty.

"it's all yours," he mumbles. your begging makes him lightheaded as he lines himself up at your weeping cunt.

"i'm all yours."

when he sinks in deep to the hilt, you cry out at the fullness, as his tip pushes the spot inside you that had been feeling so lonely for years. your hands finds themselves against his back, feeling for his tight muscles.

"shit- 'm gonna lose my mind," sukuna groans as he gives a few shallow thrusts into you, cock so hard and throbbing wildly as your plush walls clamp on him and coats him with your arousal. he grabs one of your hands from his back and interlocks his fingers with yours against the mattress, before leaning down to bring his lips against the side of your neck.

"oh, thank god... thank god, you changed your mind. i love you. i would've been so fucking miserable without you, doll. for the rest of my life," he croons, breath fanning so close to your ear. you shudder at the tone of his voice, tearing up again, mixed with pleasure and relief, and you grab his hand tighter.

you turn your head a little more to the side, making it easier for sukuna to bite and suck on the sensitive skin of your neck, as his thrusts increase in speed, nudging your g-spot with every movement.

soon enough, he's bringing his attention back to your tongue, which he caresses with his own, nibbling on your lower lip, maintaining this same perfect pace in his thrusts that brings you closer to your orgasm.

"sukuna- i'm- i'm gonna-" you say breathlessly.

but he merely kisses you again, swallowing up any words you could say or moans you could let out, not minding the gasps and whimpers that you make.

sweat beads on his perfect body, and he makes out with you through your high, groaning back when he feels your walls flutter around him. he's close. even once you've finished cumming, he begins to pound into you quicker, wanting to get to his own orgasm. you claw at his back, crying out in pleasure, as sukuna's tongue lathers your jawline.

he wants to breed you so fucking bad. but no, that'll have to wait. he can't do something to jeopardize your trust in him. he'd rather die than endure another second of being distanced from you again.

right before he's pushed off the edge, sukuna pulls out and desperately jerks himself off above your stomach, panting as his cock throbs in his hand with every spurt that coats you, feeling so hot against your tummy.

you feel a twinge of disappointment, because you also wanted to feel that in your womb...

his dick twitches weakly after being spent, and he breathes heavily, liking the sight of you being covered in his seed for another time. (and many more from now.)

" 'kuna... it's a safe day for me today," you suggest to him without thinking. "i want it inside me..."

the phrase is enough to get heat pooling in his abdomen, and he feels himself get hard all over again.

"you sure, doll? if it's what you want, i'll..." he begins to say, almost flustered by your suggestion. you know you shouldn't say this next line, but it's so easy to get carried away with this man... get caught up in the heat of the moment.

"i want your babies so bad."

you've hit his switch. sukuna growls and puts you into a mating press instantaneously, making you squeak.

"no takebacks," he mutters dangerously, beginning the second round.

the night is long, but heavenly, as soon after he dumps everything he has into your womb, then proceeds to eat you out, making you cry for the third time before sunrise.

when you're awake, it's already heading past midday, and you're relieved to see that yesterday's happenings were not a dream, seeing as the large man is sleeping with an iron hold around your body, as if subconsciously afraid you'd leave him before he woke up again.

he awakens from his slumber to your light, feathery touches on his face, which puts him in a good mood from the moment he opens an eye. it was the scenario he's always dreamed of. waking up next to you, smiling.

there's much to talk about. about what's to come next, future plans, worries, and things they need to do to make amends for all the lost years between each other. but you decide to take things slow.

back to bullet points again bc im lazy to write it properly now

you spend the weekend w him at the hotel and stuff, just playing eating and sleeping, catching up yk

he tells you on his own accord that he wants to let everyone know that he's with you now, but he's worried that it'll bring backlash to you but you tell him you're going to be brave and take it, bc you WANT everyone to know

anyway prepare for turbulence

but everything'll be alright bc hes with you

im thinking about how mopey he'll be when you have to separate from him bc you each have your own homes rn, hes always asking you to come over or if he can come over to your place

and he'll be begging you to move in soon, like old times (he lives in a rich man house now tho)

and also thinking about how its a fresh start, but they also go through old memories and now reminiscing isnt painful anymore bc yall are back together

sukuna also says he's stopped doing romance genres in acting bc he had felt annoyed acting in lovey dovey scenes when his own love life used to be in shambles all the time

and bc hes at a point in his career where he has more choice in choosing between scripts that are offered to him, he's going to continue to decline the ones that have love interests, it doesnt affect him that much anyway

he's just being more considerate of your feelings now... and you promised him that you'll never just disappear like that again when you're upset haha...

sometimes when you still have a few disagreements with him, he keeps subtly checking up on you (hes traumatised, leave him be)

lots of facetiming when he has to go overseas for filming purposes <3

okay, thats all, bye <3

Masterlist

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #poe answers

[mypoisonedvine]

now here’s a thought: jonathan crane being seduced by one of his patients

I WAS SERIOUSLY THINKING ABOUT THIS LIKE A JOKER/HARLEY QUINN MOMENT!! aaaand that's how it turned into basically a whole ass oneshot, oops

hook, line, and sinker - 1.6k words

warnings: manipulation, sexual themes/groping (18+ only please), fluff but with a dark-ish twist

"Sometimes I think you're the only one who understands me," you admitted shyly, biting your lip and looking down at the tile floor beneath you.

He leaned in a little closer, resting his arms on the table between you. "You know," he replied, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it though not quite a whisper yet, "sometimes I feel the same way."

You smiled as you looked up at him again, finding a new brightness in his eyes. "Really?" you beamed.

"Yeah," he agreed, laughing, "I really enjoy our little talks. I mean, sometimes I can't believe I'm getting paid to see you."

Giggling a little, you remembered the first time he let his guard down with you, just a bit; for weeks he'd easily dodged any personal questions, clearly knowing it was a slippery slope to countertransference and an inappropriate relationship. Unfortunately for him and everyone who had insisted that Arkham was the only facility you'd never be able to escape from, you knew from the beginning that you could use him.

You could smell it on him: that deep, overwhelming loneliness. You were far too familiar with it yourself to miss it in someone else. Sure, he kept it hidden under layer after layer of intelligence, professionalism, faked normalcy-- but it was there, and it was calling out for someone else to truly see him. You saw him from the second he walked in that armored door, back when they still kept you in the jacket; now, months later, you'd convinced him you weren't a threat and that he was the one in control of these sessions.

The other facilities, with their inspiration murals and their bean bag chairs, they were a breeze to break out of. You knew that Arkham Supermax was going to be an entirely new challenge, but you'd been preparing since the beginning. Each week with Dr. Crane, you got him to be a little naughtier for you-- first it was as simple as convincing him to let your sessions go long, leaving everyone else waiting as you poured your soul out for an extra half hour. Convincing him that you needed him, that only he could help you. Then it was the praise-- you're changing my life, I've had so many shrinks and you're the first that really listened, you're so incredible-- all that shit he'd probably been craving since his daddy didn't hug him enough or something.

Once you'd given him some compliments, he returned one to you: you made up some sob story about your low self-esteem just to get him to admit that you were attractive, and you took the compliment with a coy little thank you, Dr. Crane... that's high praise coming from you.

Then it was contraband, just little stuff. He snagged you an extra serving of dessert on your birthday; he brought you a copy of your favorite book, as a reward for increasingly good behavior. Sometimes you thought about just asking him straight-up for a metal file or few paperclips, but that would be risky-- you could throw away all your work if you jumped the gun too soon.

Then there was the journal... you knew, no matter how much he swore he wouldn't, that he was going to read that fucking journal. You couldn't be sure if that was always the plan, or if it was just a temptation he would eventually surrender to, but you wrote all these fucked up little fantasies in that journal and imagined how he'd have to loosen his tie when he read them.

Back in January: Dr. Crane keeps asking about my nightmares, I couldn't possibly admit that I've started having sexual dreams about him...

And then there was the entry from March: I didn't mean to upset him yesterday but he snapped at me when I was talking about my anger-- he said I wasn't taking accountability-- and when he got stern with me I felt myself getting wet, is that bad?

And the best one yet, just a few days ago: Dear diary, I swore I wouldn't tell anyone what he told me, so I won't even tell you-- but I'll just say that when Jonathan showed me his mask, I fell totally in love with him. People are always hiding who they really are, but he knows me, and now I know him, too. I know I should feel guilty, but I don't. I know we're meant for each other.

Your heart was racing as you realized it might all pay off tonight. Listening to his rambling rants about fear and society and humanity, journaling about your 'crush' like a schoolgirl, making doe-eyes at him during sessions-- it was all about to happen, you had him in your pocket.

"Sometimes, I..." he began again, looking down at your hands shackled to the table, "I think about seeing you more. When I'm not even here, I mean..."

You pretended to be surprised by that. "Really? I mean... do you think about just talking to me, or...?"

He smiled a little, his face turning a bit pinker. "Do you think about us doing more than just talking?" he turned the question on you instead.

"Doctor, I--"

"Jonathan."

You had to fight off a smirk; you reached forward across the table, jingling the chains that held you down, but they were just long enough to reach to his hands. You gently brushed your fingers over his, hearing him sigh as he opened his hand for you to place your hand in. You ran your middle finger delicately in a line along his palm, and he shuddered a bit. Hook, line, and sinker. "Jonathan," you started again in a low purr, "I think about so much more than talking."

"Do you ever think about... about if we could be together...?" he pressed, closing his grip to hold your hand. After this long of a seduction, you couldn't deny that touching him in such an innocuous way was getting you a little hot. Just because you were manipulating him didn't mean you were completely faking an attraction, he was sexy-- and gullible. You liked that in a man.

Trying to look conflicted, you glanced away. "I try not to imagine that," you explained, "it's... it's not possible, with me in here. I'm fine with this, if this is all I can get-- seeing you three times a week for our sessions, telling you things I never thought I'd tell anyone. I can be okay with that. Just knowing you feel even a fraction of what I do is like-- it's like-- I don't even know how to describe it. It's amazing."

Leaning in even more, he reached up and held your face-- tenderly, reverently-- and you shut your eyes as you leaned into his touch. "I wish I was as unselfish as you," he replied, "but I need more-- I need to really be with you."

You brought your hand up to hold his, jerking the chain a bit. "I need-- I need you, too," you mumbled. "Please, Jonathan," you begged in a whisper as you opened your eyes to meet his wanting gaze, "I wanna be yours."

He sat up and leaned over the table in a split second, kissing you hard; you had to tilt your head back to accommodate the height difference as you were still sitting, and it made it even easier for him to hold your head like they used to in those old Hollywood movies-- the ones they showed here on Thursday nights, but you weren't allowed to go because you 'didn't integrate well with the general population' or whatever.

As he kissed you, hungry but relatively reserved, it was you that took it further: carefully running your tongue over his lips, opening your mouth for him to claim, having to hold back a grin when he moaned softly against you. "Touch me," you begged him in a rare moment of reprieve from the kiss, "please-- I've wanted you to for so long--"

He groaned a little as his hand slid down to your chest, opening one button of your uniform jumpsuit; he kissed your neck as he dipped his hand inside, groping your chest underneath the fabric. Your hips naturally rocked forward in the metal chair, your deprived body desperate to be filled after almost a year of forced celibacy in this prison. "Fuck," he mumbled against your skin, tweaking a nipple between his fingers, "you know we can't-- not here--"

"I know," you purred, only barely able to reach his shoulder with your hands chained-- otherwise you'd be running your fingers through his hair, holding on to his neck, pulling him closer. "But I need you-- I don't think I've ever needed anything this much..."

He shook his head; "Me either," he admitted.

"I need to feel you inside me."

He growled, grip tightening on your breast, and you smiled proudly. "I can't just leave you here," he realized, like it was his idea. "We need to be together-- outside of this place."

"I'll go anywhere with you," you promised him.

Pulling back and looking into your eyes, he brought both his hands to your face, brushing your hair aside quickly. "If I do this for you... you have to promise me. You have to be mine."

"Can you really do that?" you wondered. "Get me out?"

"I'll find a way," he assured, "I'll do anything."

You smiled up at his determined expression, flashing your best big-wet-needy eyes at him. "Jonathan," you cooed, "I'm already yours."

#jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader

[toruro]

— ✧ exes and oh's

pairing. choi seungcheol x reader

description. when your ex-best friend breaks up with your other ex-best friend, you’re stuck between keeping this door (that you never wanted closed) shut tight, and making amends. naturally, choosing to let your heart open to the person who ripped it apart isn’t the easiest of decisions, but then again, life has a funny way of making you choose.

tags. smut (18+), UNEDITED (i wrote this mostly when i was half asleep, there will be missing words), angst, oral (f receiving), petnames, past toxic relationships/ friendships, referenced cheating, alcohol consumption (+ mentions of vomiting + poor decisions abt alcohol in general), rebuilding relationships, trust issues, joshua is extremely protective it's honestly a little annoying, a disgusting amount of internal monologue i am So sorry, theres a lot in this one so if i missed anything lmk

fic playlist.

w/c. 15.8k+

a/n. 1K SPECIAL SORRY IT'S A LITTLE LATE...anyways i really tried to make sure this wasn't super corny but i prob got carried away i can't even tell anymore. update. this is cringe as hell

Your day today is slow, like every other. You aren’t sure why you expect anything different—well maybe you do know. It’s the optimist in you, a small voice in your head says, as you drop down your bookbag next to Joshua’s chair, the two of you slipping into your seats. Optimism my ass, you shoot back at yourself.

“Can you cover my shift?” Joshua asks, turning to you on his chair. You two have just finished your econ lecture and are sitting in the library to catch up on notes.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you give him a wary look. “Joshua,” you whine, pulling out your notebook and pen down.

“C’mon you said you needed some extra cash, and I need the night off anyways. I’ll get you back with something,” he promises as you narrow your eyes.

“Now what do you have that makes you need the night off?”

“Well there’s this party—” he pauses when you huff.

“And what’s to say I wouldn’t like to go to this party?” you retort, slightly annoyed that he expects you to cover his shift over something like this.

Joshua signs, running a hand through his hair. “Well I can say that I don’t think you would be especially keen on going,” he tells you honestly, and then when you catch the look in his eyes you falter.

You think about probing further, but second guess yourself—you probably shouldn’t. It isn’t good for your heart. You are trying to work on putting yourself, your heart, first, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat. “Why do you say that?” you ask, and Joshua gives you that look.

He knows where this is going, and he’s slightly disappointed in you for going against your personal goal of not bringing it up. Then again, he doesn’t control you, and while he can try to guide you down the path of reparations and healing, he can’t force you anywhere.

“Cheol’s birthday is tomorrow,” he tells you like you don’t know. Like you don’t still have it marked down in bright blue sharpie on your calendar. It’s only been six months since you’ve last talked to him, and you don’t feel the need to buy a whole new calendar for the sake of getting rid of his and Yejin’s name.

That, and you don’t think taking his name off would help you forget anyways. Ten years, you think to yourself, ten years shouldn’t be disposed of as easily as a calendar, although it seems Yejin and Cheol had no problem doing just that.

Joshua catches you zoning out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No it’s okay,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair. “It’s not like I didn’t know, I don’t know why I asked.” Joshua looks at you sadly.

“The party…it’s going to be a big one, since Soonyoung is throwing it. You can come if you really want, you probably won’t run into Seungcheol anyways,” Joshua offers.

You scrunch up your face, shaking your head. “And Yejin? Either way, I don’t want to even think about how it would look if I showed up to a party for his birthday.”

Joshua gives you a wear look. “You don’t know?”

“Huh? Know what?”

“Cheol and Yejin broke up a while ago.”

“Oh.” You blink once, then twice, staring down at your shoes before inhaling sharply.

“I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

You shrug, responding, “Whatever. Don’t apologize. I don’t have any business with either of them anyways.”

“Okay but—”

“Seriously Josh,” you mutter, turning to him so he can see the pleading look on your face. “Let’s talk about something else, yeah? I’ll cover your shift.” Joshua gives you a tentative look, opening his mouth before you stop him. “Seriously,” you repeat, “It’s fine.”

And the truth is, you are fine. Sure it hurts when you think about them too much, and even if they are broken up, it doesn’t really make you feel much better, but you are okay. Your days are often dull, yes, but you aren’t unhappy. You’re content, and being in your final year of university, you figure that being content is all you need.

Excitement and love are not quite at the forefront of your mind, and while it does cause a nasty knot to build up in your throat when you think about Cheol and Yejin and all the fun times you have spent with them, you quietly tell yourself that things just played out the way they were supposed to.

You tell yourself that if it didn’t work out, it wasn’t meant to work out. That your life had plans, and that those plans didn’t include them.

As you walk home, you scoff to yourself, thinking about how Cheol and Yejin were willing to give up ten years of friendship with you—with each other—for something that didn’t even last half a year.

Of course it’s painful, but at the end of the day, you’re okay with that.

“You’re pathetic,” Yejin spits out, and you feel yourself growing dizzy. Her animosity that’s more apparent than ever is all you can think about it, and it has your jaw going slack. “How could you—” her face contorts into something so full of hate that you brace yourself for her next words, “How could you do this to me?”

You still, blinking as you let the words sink in. You want to argue, to fight back, to defend yourself, but the words fall flat on your tongue. You want to scream, I didn’t do anything to you, want to tell her that your feelings aren’t there to hurt her, but you can’t. “Yejin—”

“It doesn’t even matter now,” she cuts you off, sucking in a sharp breath, her face that was momentarily scrunched up into anger is now relaxing, looking back at the door where music booms from the party.

“Are you just going to leave?” you manage to ask, steading your breaths as best as you can. Yejin looks at you and from the way she’s slightly taller than you, you nearly cower back in anticipation for her next words.

Yejin always did tend to have a bit of a mean streak, but only towards those she felt had wronged her—never to you. Always had a snarky comment to throw, but never in your direction. Always ready to be on the offense if she felt she needed to, and for the first time in your ten years of friendship, you know what it’s like to be on the receiving end.

Yejin never answers your question. “Cheol likes me,” she tells you as if it isn’t obvious. As if you haven’t mulled over that fact for the past month, the tell-tale lips of Joshua spilling you Seungcheol’s secrets many nights before. “He doesn’t like you.” Yejin pauses. “Because you’re boring.”

Your world stills. Everything was spinning in a hazy maze a moment ago but now it all has paused and her words are hitting you in slow motion. “What?” you try to ask but your voice comes out hardly above a whisper.

Yejin scoffs, and you know in this moment that that is the meanest thing she could have done. “You’re boring,” she repeats, “and that’s why—” she takes a deep breath, “—even if he didn’t like me, he wouldn’t like you, so I’m telling you now to give up.”

You gulp, and the words spill out of your mouth before you can stop. “I was never going to make a move on him,” you retort, finally finding the words stuck in your throat, and while you gain confidence for a moment, it withers away when you catch the amused look on Yejin’s face. “I can’t believe you would think I’d go for him if you liked him.”

“That’s your problem!” Yejin exclaims exasperatedly. “You were going to do nothing even if none of us found out,” she spits out, and you feel your knees growing wobbly again as Yejin continues. “You claim you love him but you’re just willing to give him up like that? That’s pathetic. You are pathetic.”

She turns on her heel, and you call out to her one last time. “Are you—”

“Get Joshua to drive you home,” is the last thing she ever says to you.

Taking Joshua’s shift is boring. Not that you expect anything different—getting you excited for work is not one of your optimism’s capabilities. Evenings at the coffee shop are busier than one would expect, but after considering the fact that it’s the only one open past seven p.m. on campus, the crowd begins to make sense.

You spend your time making drinks for the many students who are—much like yourself—simply trying to get through the night, but you would be lying if you say you don’t notice that the turn out is a little…smaller. After all, it is a Friday evening and Soonyoung’s parties are infamous on campus for being…well for being thrown by Soonyoung.

He’ll invite anyone and everyone, so you wouldn’t be surprised if your instagram feed will be filled with nothing but pictures from Cheol’s party tonight. Not that you care. You don’t want to go, you have no reason to.

Still, you wonder: would Yejin show up? If they did break up, like Joshua told you, what were the circumstances? Are they still friends? What happened? Why did they—

No.You shouldn’t do this to yourself, you can’t. Yejin isn’t your friend anymore, and neither is Cheol. What happened between them shouldn’t be your business—it isn’t. Leave it alone, you tell yourself, tapping your foot on the ground.

Yet, every time you look over the empty seats that fill the cafe, you’re reminded of just why not many people are here tonight. Seungcheol. Chewing on your bottom lip, you go against your better judgment and pull out your phone, immediately tapping on instagram.

Your stories are filled with a plethora of videos and pictures from the house that Cheol shares with Jeonghan and some other friends. It’s dark both inside and out, the only thing illuminating the house being led lights and pool lights in the backyard.Fondly, you remember last summer and Cheol’s birthday, which was spent at his house with you. Yejin, and some other friends in his pool from morning ‘til night. Fun times, you think, and you quietly wonder if Cheol will remember those memories today, or if he will leave them in his dust.

Tapping through the stories, you purse your lips together, inhale sharply, and begin to make yourself a drink. It’s too late in the evening for you to be thinking about this.

Seungcheol’s head is pounding. He can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears and then there’s the music that has its vibrations going straight to his heart as he stumbles over his own words.

Lights everywhere flashing different colors and he isn’t sure when one cup turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into fuck-knows-how-many until Jeonghan is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pushing him into an empty room, calling Joshua over.

Again, Seungcheol’s head is pounding. And he fucking loves it.

Joshua and Jeonghan, on the other hand, are frustrated. Cheol is trying to push through them, clawing for the door as his legs hit each other in a mangled mess until he’s falling onto them as they hold him back.

“You guys can’t fucking do this,” he whines, throwing his head back as he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“When you said you were going to go crazy tonight,” Joshua mutters, “I didn’t realize you meant literally. Are fucking insane?” he hisses.

Cheol gives him an angry look, seeming to sober up for a moment as he straightens his back. “It’s my birthday, giving me a fucking break.”

“If you keep acting like this it’s going to be your death day soon too,” Jeonghan warns, earning him a glare.

“Seriously, do you want alcohol poisoning or something?” Joshua agrees. “Don’t drink anything else for the night, I’m serious.”

“And if I do?” Seungcheol challenges.

“We’ll tell Soonyoung to call it all off. You know he’ll do it if we ask,” Jeonghan states simply.

Cheol scoffs, but doesn’t reply, exercising his last bit of common sense to understand what Jeonghan and Joshua say, they mean. He needs to tread lightly.

Not that he cares much. He hasn’t got much to lose—Cheol only suggested this party because he knew that if it was anything short of big, he’d be reminded of the missing holes in his life right now.

His plan was unsuccessful, clearly, because even with cups after cups of spike punch, he’s still mulling over the fact there’s over a hundred people in this house and not a single one of them is you. Cheol had asked Joshua to bring it up with you—asked him to lead you in the right direction. The right direction being him.

He wasn’t really sure what his expectations were when he suggested it, but now it’s clear that Cheol really was expecting you to show up. He didn’t prepare for any other outcome, especially not one like this, where he’s wasted before the clock even strikes twelve. He’s on the verge of passing out when Joshua leaves the room, only Jeonghan and Cheol in each other’s presence as the former makes sure his elder doesn’t collapse.

Seungcheol’s head is pounding and he thinks it feels fucking great.

Fuck, he really needs to throw up.

You’re back at the cafe two days later, once again spending your evening serving students. It’s a bit of a lighter day, so only you and Jeongyeon are working, catching up and making light conversation through the day.

“Tired?” you ask her, when you catch her leaning against the counter with a wince.

She nods, turning up to look at you. “Chemistry is killing me. I want to cry just thinking about my next exam,” whe groans, throwing her head back. “I think humans have evolved too much. There’s no reason we should have explore this much about like, fucking atoms. Why can’t we just be happy creatures—ignorance is bliss, after all.”

You laugh out loud, not bothering to look at the door when you hear the bell of its opening ringing. “Take a break, yeah? I’ll manage for the next half an hour, if you just wanna sit and chill for a bit,” you offer, Jeongyeon letting out a sigh of relief.

“Are you serious?” she exclaims before hugging you tightly. “I fucking love you,” she says, pulling away and hopping down the back counter and to the back room while you smile widely before turning around to face the new customer at the counter.

Your smile drops faster than you can blink.

Seungcheol’s smile, at one time, was among one of your favorite sights on the whole damn planet. Now, you can’t help but turn away, too scared to look him in the eye. Scared that if you look long enough, you’ll find something you aren’t ready to see.

Don’t falter, you tell yourself. You haven’t been healing for months for it to amount to nothing. “What can I get you?” you ask casually, looking down at the cashier tablet, pretending to look through the catalog.

You didn’t look at him long enough to see if his smile vanished just as quickly as yours, to see if he expected you, to know what he was thinking at all honestly. You aren’t ready for that, and it’s pathetic, you think to yourself.

“Uh,” is the first thing you hear Cheol say to you after six months. You aren’t sure what you’re expecting him to follow with, but it is most definitely not, “Don’t you know my usual?”

It takes all your self control to not snap your eyes up and say, of course I know your usual, I never forgot, how could I forget, it’s always an iced latte with—“No, sorry, I don’t,” you say flatly, still not looking at him.

Cheol is slightly surprised by your choice of words, partly because when Joshua told him that your door was shut and not going to budge open, he didn’t really believe him. Maybe he knew he wouldn’t be able to hit it straight off the bat when he tried to reconcile, but he definitely wasn’t expecting this.

Not that he planned this—he knew you worked here, just not when. Cheol was just struck with luck when he walked in, ready to order a coffee when his eyes landed on your familiar figure this evening, and as an opportunist, he just couldn’t turn down the chance to try and talk to you.

Of course now, he isn’t sure if this course of action was the right one—you were never cold, not to him, not to Yejin, not to anyone really. It’s weird, he thinks.

“Iced latte with hazelnut syrup, please,” he replies with a small nod of acceptance. Joshua was right. Your door was locked.

“Your drink will come out over there,” you say, pointing over to the left counter. “Cash or card?”

He thinks it’s worth a shot to try again. “When was the last time I used anything but card?” Cheol accepts defeat when you don’t crack a smile, not even one bit.

“So you’re using card?” you ask plainly, turning the tablet over so he can swipe down. Cheol chuckles nervously as he pulls out his wallet. He doesn’t say anything after that, and for that, you are grateful.

Once he’s done paying, you turn on your heel quickly and make his drink. You don’t look up, don’t turn back—you don’t know if you’re ready to see him watching you, if he is at all. You aren’t sure what you’d like more: having him watching you, or having him not.

Gulping down a hard lump in your throat as you wait to pull the shot of espresso, you think deeply. It’s just how Jeongyeon said it, you figure: ignorance is bliss.

Jeongyeon thinks parties aren’t your thing. “They just don’t suit you,” she explains when you’re working one afternoon.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean not my thing?”

She shrugs, carrying in some boxes of cups. “It’s not a bad thing—I’m not calling you boring or anything—I’m just saying. You’re a very work-at-a-coffee-shop kind of girl, and not a let’s-go-party kind of girl, you know?”

The word bounces around in your mind. Boring.

“I can be both,” you huff. “You’re only saying this because I actually do work at a coffee shop.”

“Whatever,” Jeongyeon shrugs. “Come with me tonight then?”

You scrunch up your face. “Tonight? I work tonight,” you tell her with a frown.

“Get Hyunwoo to cover your shift then, I’m sure he’ll do it,” she suggests. You sigh, pulling out your phone to text your other co-worker.

“Okay, but if he says no it isn’t my fault.”

“Ya-da, ya-da, ya-da,” Jeongyeon mutters, waving her hand at you with a sly grin. “So I’ll see you tonight?” he asks with an eyebrow raised.

“If Hyunwoo is willing to give up his Saturday evening, I guess so.”

“Ugh, he better agree. Tell him if he does it, I’ll set him up on a date with Nayeon.”

You roll your eyes with a small giggle. “You need to stop using her to get what you want—she’s going to stop being your friend if you keep setting her up on dates so people can do you favors.”

“If that ends up happening…” Jeongyeon’s voice trails off as she glances at you. “…well that’s what you’re here for!”

It’s how you end up putting on some cute pants and black crop top that you’ve been saving for a night just like. Jeongyeon and you are ubering the way to whoever’s house this party is at, and you’re pretty sure neither of you have a good idea of how you’re supposed to get home, but that’s a problem for another time.

When you arrive, the house is already packed, but the two of you don’t have too much trouble slipping through the open door and into the crowd of people that fill each room. You haven’t been to a party in a while, and the loud music along with the rush you naturally feel when you're around so many people starts to return to you.

You see many faces—mostly ones you recognize, but the names fall flat on your tongue. Like you said, it’s been a while since you’ve come to a party.

When you make your way to the kitchen, you’re greeted by a kind, familiar voice. Smiling at Joshua as he calls out your name, you give him a sideways hug before you make your way to the counter with all the drinks. “Fancy seeing you here,” he teases, and you push him lightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Jeongyeon invited me last minute…I had to get Hyunwoo to take my shift,” you explain.

“Ah, that makes sense,” and there’s a funny look on his face when he says it.

“What’s with that face?”

“Nothing! It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“You know Hyunwoo likes you, right?” Joshua says casually, pouring you a cup of punch. Usually, you don’t trust what other people hand to you, but Joshua is a safe exception.

“What?” you ask, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. “You’re lying. Did he tell you that?”

“Not directly…but it’s obvious. Seriously, who gives up their Saturday evening unless they’re making major bank or they have a crush.”

“Whatever. He’s a sophomore,” you murmur, taking a sip of the drink. It’s so sweet it almost masks the taste of alcohol. “Plus, he’s not my type. And I’m not interested in dating. I have too much going on,” you list.

“Please,” Joshua scoffs. “Your thesis and being a barista is not too much.”

“Shut up! I’m here, at a party, aren’t I?”

“Will you come to the next one?”

“That depends.”

“On?” he asks hopefully.

“Hm,” you hum, tapping a finger on your chin. “When, where, who, why, how.”

“Ugh, you’re seriously annoying about this. Just show up when I call you next, okay?”

“No promises. This night better be good if you want me to live up to that.”

“Well I’m not throwing this party so I can’t control that.”

You grin. “Too bad.” You’re having fun, you realize, even if it’s with the comfort of Joshua. You’re glad Jeongyeon brought you here. Joshua glances around for a moment and then back at you, opening his mouth to speak. “Don’t worry about me,” you tell him before he can say anything, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, I just—” he stops himself. You know where this is going, and Joshua knows he doesn’t really need to say it. Cheol is here.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, patting his shoulder firmly, and in this moment you aren’t lying. Not to yourself, not to Joshua. It is okay. You are okay.

He watches you for a moment and then nods, ruffling your hair for a moment before waving goodbye to head off in some other room. You spend the next few minutes tossing your now empty cup to the side, heading off to some other room to find Jeongyeon. She’s dancing with some friends and the moment her eyes lay on you, she notices the deep flush to your face.

Calling you over, you dance with Jeongyeon, music blaring in your ear as you’re pressed up against her and other girls you’re sure you knew the names of at some point in your life. It’s exhilarating for a moment, but then suddenly, after around fifteen minutes, it isn’t.

“I’m going to head out for a breather,” you tell Jeongyeon loudly over the music, and she doesn’t seem to hear your words but with the way you’re pointing at the back door, she figures out what you’re saying. Nodding with a thumbs up, she smiles before turning back to dance along with her friends as you slip out of the huddle of people.

You notice a familiar face from the corner of your vision, but you feel too hot and the air is too stuffy for you to bear another second longer, escaping to the backyard.

It’s quiet outside. The night air is cool, and you now realize why no one is out in the pool like they usually are. Looking down at your feet, you contemplate your next actions for a moment before rolling up the hem of your pants until your knees and sitting by the edge of the pool, dipping in your legs.

You hiss at the cool feeling for a moment, but quickly adjust—you’ve been feeling too hot all evening and this is exactly what you need to take a moment to calm down. Alcohol has never quite been your best friend, the liquid always sending a flush of heat through your whole body.

The water soothes you, and you feel at peace for a moment. Then there’s the sound of the door sliding open and a familiar patter of footsteps thuds against the concrete.

“Isn’t the water cold?” Jeonghan says casually, standing next to you.

You shrug. “I needed to cool down.”

“Hm, fair,” he murmurs, sitting down himself and crossing his legs on the concrete edge of the pool. “It’s been a minute.”

“Has it?” you reply quietly. Yeah. It’s only been six months. You don’t let Jeonghan know that you’ve been counting.

“You don’t stop by to drop off the old pastries anymore,” he says. “Mingyu tries to make croissants now, but it’s the one thing he isn’t great at baking.”

You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol speaking but you’re blunt when you respond, “That sucks.” Jeonghan laughs quietly, nodding. He isn’t used to you being like this —when Cheol said you were different, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t really this.

“How’s school? You working on your thesis and shit?”

You shrug. “I guess. Busy times.”

“You’re being awfully cold,” Jeonghan says with a tick of his tongue. “D’you not have any drinks—you’re always more fun when you’re drunk.”

“Thanks,” you mutter with furrowed eyebrows. Yejin used to tell you that.

“Sorry, that was rude,” Jeonghan says quickly when he notices how you still. “I didn’t mean it like that—I mean, I guess everyone is more fun when they’re drunk.” You chuckle a little at that and he lets out a sigh of relief at the fact that he’s able to get you to loosen up, even just a little. There’s an awkward silence that settles over the two of you as he watches you as you kick your feet in the water. Jeonghan thinks he might take his chances.“He misses you.”

You feel tears well up in your eyes, and you really hope Jeonghan doesn’t notice. You hate how you know who he’s talking about right away, not needing to say the name. “Jeonghan,” you say, and you know that your wobbly voice gives it all away, “Do you really think that’s fair?”

He says your name, and you turn away.

“Do you think that’s fair to me?” Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “He misses me? What about me? What about how I feel? Has Cheol thought about that? Has he?”

“I’m not trying to say it’s fair, I’m just telling you how he’s feeling—”

“Okay? There isn’t much for me to do about it,” you reply quickly. “Cheol and Yejin—” you let out a humorless laugh, “—it isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair. I was able to deal with it. I’m sure Cheol can too.”

“He’s really upset with himself for it,” Jeonghan tries to reason. “Even when he was with Yejin. They’d have arguments about it.”

“Okay? It’s not like I asked him to do that. It’s not like he was my friend to tell me about it.”

“Well if you would just listen—”

“No, you listen,” you say firmly, scrunching up your eyebrows. “Did you know what Yejin said to me the last time we spoke?” Jeonghan shakes his head. “She told me I was boring,” you spit out, and you realize that it’s the first time you’ve ever actually recounted that night to anyone but yourself. “And that she wasn’t even mad that I liked Cheol, but that she hated how I let her have him.” You pause to wipe away some tears. “And she was right. I didn’t put myself first. I could have told Cheol first, could’ve worked things out before she found out, could’ve done something for him, but I didn’t, and I’m not going to make that same mistake again so right now I am going to put myself first.”

Jeonghan is frowning now at the intake of all this information. It’s his first time hearing your side of the story, and he can’t help but get confused with the different timeline’s he’s got going on inside of his head. “Is this really putting yourself first?” he finally asks, and you glare at him.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying. He was your best friend for a whole decade. Maybe having him back in your life will do more good than you think.”

You scoff. “You mean do Cheol more good to his life. Don’t look at me like that—what do you know about me that makes you so sure of this?”

“Cheol knows you, you know him, and as far as I know, you could use a friend or two.”

“Thanks for calling me friendless,” you say dryly. “But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m fine. I am over it, and I don’t mind having two less friends. And either way, Cheol couldn’t have been that good of a friend if he was willing to just let go of me like that after all those years.” Jeonghan stays silent. “I don’t need more drama in my life anyways,” you conclude, pulling your feet out of the water and standing up.

“You’re not going to give him a second chance?”

You don’t answer as you walk away.

Choi Seungcheol isn’t drunk, for once in his life. Okay that is an exaggeration, but it’s the first time in a few months that he isn’t stumbling over himself at a party. It’s the first time in a long while that he hasn’t even had a sip of alcohol at this outing, and honestly, he’s quite proud of himself.

He knows why that is, and he isn’t afraid to admit it. When Joshua walks past him and gives him a funny look, Cheol knows what’s up. “No drinks?” Joshua asks, quirking up a brow.

“Joshua,” he murmurs, and he’s surprised his friend can even hear him over the music. “Jeonghan is talking to her.”

Joshua purses his lips. “Yeah, I know.”

Choi Seungcheol is quiet at a party, for the first time in…well pretty much ever. He isn’t under the influence, but it feels like everything is racing through his mind at a hundred miles per hour. Leaning against the wall, Joshua softens his gaze.

“Loosen up,” he says, and then thinks again. “And please don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m not drunk,” Cheol scoffs, standing up straight as he glances out the back door, watching you kick the pool water. He remembers his birthday party over a year ago—the pool, you, Yejin, fun. Cheol walks away, not sure where he’s heading and Joshua, using his better judgment, doesn’t follow.

Choi Seungcheol isn’t drunk, but he might as well be out of his damn mind.

Tonight is not your night.

Your head is pounding. You fucking hate it. You don’t like getting drunk, at least not like this. Not in the way that you’re seeing two of everything. Not in the way that your body feels like it’s on fire, sweat soaking your sheen black shirt. Not in the way that you’re thinking about everything you shouldn’t.

After your conversation with Jeonghan, you realize you don’t have an answer. Pandora’s box is too tempting, and all your better judgment tells you to leave this door closed. To bury it up, throw it into the ocean, burn it—anything to keep it away from you, but the alcohol that courses through your veins brings the memories flooding back.

Now, you aren’t sure if your head hurts from thinking about Cheol, or from the alcohol, or both.

It’s too much.

You lean against one of the steps as you sit on the stairs, clutching a bottle of water close to your chest. Jeongyeon is…she’s fuck knows where. You lost track of her hours ago—after you came back in from the backyard, you got lost in conversations with people you haven’t caught up with in ages, and one thing led to the next and now you’re on nth drink.

You feel dizzy and the cup in your hand without the water bottle slips past your fingers and before you can act quick enough, the cup is tumbling down the two steps in front of you and spilling all over the floor. Granted, it isn’t the only mess made in this house tonight, and by the looks of it, it won’t be the last, but you still feel bad, quickly scrambling up to pick up your cup and find some tissues.

As you lean forward and stumble over the steps a little, you realize your center of gravity is off and you’re about to fall forward, quickly holding out your hands to brace your fall. As you land on the ground with a thud, your mind spins—everything spins, you feel too warm, and then you feel your drink stain your pants in the spot you fell onto and—fuck, this really is too much for you.

Maybe you should’ve just accepted what Jeongyeon said. Maybe—fuck, who are you kidding—parties definitely don’t suit you. You’d be a fool to deny that now, especially when you’re aching to just leave already, even though you never made any plans of getting home.

That problem that you saved to deal with “at a later time” is becoming a problem you need to deal with now and you race through your options, all while seated on the floor, forgetting about how you need to clean up this mess.

It’s when your head starts to hurt and you scrunch up your face in hopes to soothe your headache when you hear his voice. A warm hand wrapped around your wrist and then it’s pulling you up and onto your wobbly legs. “Let’s get you out of here,” Cheol mumbles, and without weighing the consequences of your actions, you nod along.

You don’t care anymore. You need to leave, and if Cheol is the path to getting out, you won’t mind.

When his arms lead you out the front door and into the night, you feel cold. Extremely cold. Maybe it’s because your body is so warm, maybe it’s because the wet alcohol on your pants is sending shivers up your spine—maybe it’s that you’re starting to slowly realize who you’re with.

Standing on the grass, you aren’t sure what to do now. What should you do? What does Cheol want you to do—you stop yourself. It shouldn’t matter what he wants you to do, you remind yourself, so why do you find your gaze lazily making its way over to his face?

Fuck ignorance and its bliss. Right now, you want to know what Cheol is thinking. He’s looking down at you, and suddenly you feel small. His face isn’t demeaning, it’s not angry, he’s not upset, but you just feel so pathetic.

And god, do you hate that word. It echoes in your head. Your dirtied pants, flushed and puffy cheeks, disheveled hair, all as you struggle to stand up—pathetic. You turn away from him, not being able to watch him watch you any longer.

“Let me drive you home,” he says finally over the thick air.

“You’re drunk,” you protest mindlessly—you don’t have a clue if that’s true at all, but knowing Cheol, it probably is.

“I haven’t had anything all night.” Nevermind, you tell yourself, maybe you don’t know him at all. Can six months really change a person that much?

Cheol is thinking the same thing about you. Your eyes are glossy and you look so out of it and he can’t even remember the last time he saw you like this—the only memories he has are when you first got drunk with him and Yejin in high school. The memory shoots an arrow at his heart, but he brushes off the feeling, focusing on you right now.

“Trust me,” he says. You blink a few times, staring at the ground, then at the sky, and then at Cheol. “Trust me,” he repeats, and now you remember just how well you know him. Cheol isn’t asking right now, no, he’s begging. You think as deeply as your wasted mind will let you.

Do you trust Cheol? No.

Cheol hurt you. Yejin hurt you.

Is this about Yejin? No.

Do you trust Cheol? No.

What is this about? I don’t know.

Do you trust Cheol? I don’t know.

Can you trust Cheol? …

He places a hand on your shoulder and the touch is firm.

Can you trust Cheol? Of course you can.

His eyes are soft as you look up at him.

Do you trust Cheol? Absolutely.

Optimism would say that you left the door unlocked. Joshua would disagree and say that you weren’t going to be inside even if the door was wide open. Jeonghan, surprisingly, doesn’t agree with Joshua—your words were harsh, but the water streaming down your cheeks told him that there was more going on in your head than you let on.

Seungcheol tends to only listen to what he wants to hear, at least that’s what all his friends have noticed. They saw it with Yejin—ignoring all the red flags, late nights of arguing until Cheol would murmur, “it’s fine, let’s just go to sleep.” Reality wasn’t the easiest for him to face, and now it’s more apparent than ever.

“He’s too optimistic about her,” Joshua sighs, throwing himself onto his friend’s couch the morning after. He slept over at his friends’ place, and they follow carefully behind him now.

“He still has hope?” Mingyu asks incredulously, sitting on an armchair.

“Too much of it,” Joshua replies, sitting up straight so that there’s room for Jeonghan on the couch.

“She’s still nice to me,” Mingyu says thoughtfully. “Maybe she doesn’t hate him.”

“Well that doesn’t mean anything,” Jeonghan says. “She’s still close friends with Joshua, so I don’t think she’s going to let that whole situation get in the way of her own friendships.”

Joshua nods in agreement, adding, “That, and I never said she hated Cheol.”

Mingyu furrows his eyebrows. “She doesn’t?”

“I don’t think she ever did,” Joshua says honestly, leaning back into the cushions as he stretches his arms.

“Really? I would’ve,” Mingyu admits and Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

“We know that you would,” he teases, causing the taller boy to pout but keep his mouth shut. “Anyways, I think Cheol is going to keep trying.”

“I know he will,” Joshua mutters, running a hand over his face. “He’s going to go in circles after her.”

“She’s not gonna give in?” Mingyu asks, and Joshua shakes his head, but Jeonghan puts his hand up in protest.

“I think she might eventually come ‘round to a stop,” he says, and Joshua shoots him a look of surprise. “I dunno, I know you and her are close, but I just have a feeling. We’ll have to see.”

“Don’t let Cheol hear that. He’ll take it as a sign to never stop,” Joshua warns.

Seungcheol doesn’t hear this conversation now or ever, but he never had plans of stopping in the first place. He was always more optimistic than you—than anyone you knew, really—and anyone who knows him should know better than to underestimate the extent of his determination.

Jeonghan and Joshua are making that mistake right now, and even though Cheol will never know what they said, he is determined to prove them wrong, for the sake of his own sanity.

Jeongyeon picks up the phone after the first ring. “I am so sorry,” she babbles into the line. “I—fuck—we should’ve figured out a ride—I mean I should’ve figured out a ride since I basically forced you to come and I knew I would be drinking and—god, I am so sorry.”

Your head rings at the way her voice blares through the phone, and you sit up and against your headboard. You woke up only moments ago, greeted by a million texts from Jeongyeon, not bothering to soothe your hangover headache before calling her back—she must have been worried, you told yourself.

“It’s okay,” you mumble, reaching over to grab some water from your bedside table. “I got a safe ride home.”

“Yeah, Joshua told me…but still, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you to find a ride on your own.” “Don’t apologize Jeongyeon, I left you without a ride too so stop apologizing or else you’ll start to make me feel bad.”

You can hear her huff on the other end, and you smile. “Okay fine, but seriously. I’ll cover one of your shifts or something soon because I feel bad for even taking you. You looked miserable.”

“That was only because Jeonghan came up to me,” you tell her honestly.

“Jeonghan? Like Seungcheol’s friend?” she says, and you can tell from her voice that she’s hesitating to even say his name.

“Yes,” you sigh softly. Jeongyeon wants to know more, you can feel it, but you aren’t in the mood to bring it up, at least not with her. “It’s whatever. I’ll see you Wednesday?”

She pauses for a moment, seemingly trying to comprehend your quick switch of topics. “Uh, sure. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum, pulling back your phone as you click to hang up. Letting your head fall back onto your pillow, you inhale deeply. You remember the night before too vividly—even if you were drunk, there was too much happening for you to forget.

You know you can’t forget, so you decide to do just what you’ve been doing for the past half year: ignore. It’s what you’re best at, after all. Yet as your day goes on, your mind begins to trail off. You think, and you think, and you think until you aren’t sure what was real and what was not from last night.

You start to realize that you aren’t as good at ignoring as you like to think.

“You think too much,” Hyunwoo jokes, watching you stare at the shot of espresso in front of you. You’d made it for yourself as an attempt to feel more energized after your lecture, but you find yourself zoning out as the small cup sits on the counter, waiting for you to gulp it down.

“Uh, sorry,” you murmur, shaking your head a little. “This shift is light and we haven’t had any customers in a few minutes so I just…”

“It’s fine,” Hyunwoo replies with a smile, and you purse your lips. Ever since Joshua told you that Hyunwoo likes you, you’ve been warning yourself to tread lightly. Not that he isn’t a good guy—Hyunwoo is great—he’s just not your type.

What is your type? The thought is swept out of your mind before you even come up with an answer, swooping up the shot of espresso and holding it up to your lips.

It’s been three days since the party, and you haven’t talked to Joshua in a minute, so your mind is slightly frazzled. Hyunwoo is nice, but you miss the comfort of your close friend, and maybe you’re just a little curious to see if he has anything to say about Cheol driving you home that night.

You’re sure he does—you can already predict his words: “you told yourself you wouldn’t talk to him.” Joshua might be harsh with his words, but you feel with the way you’ve been losing your damn mind recently, you need someone like him to bring you back to reality.

Maybe that’s what went wrong with you, with Cheol, with Yejin—with the three of you. You and Cheol were too lost in fantasies, Yejin always holding you two down. She was right—Cheol wouldn’t like you. Two people who didn’t know a reality other than their imaginations couldn’t work out.

Cheol needed someone to ground himself, you needed someone to ground yourself, and at the end of the day, Yejin chose to help him. You still think about what you would have done if you were in her situation, and after months, you can’t come up with an answer.

You remember the events leading up to her decision like it’s as clear as day, and no matter how many times you replay that moment, you don’t know what to think, except that you’re angry, you’re sad—they left you.

“I heard you and Joshua,” Yejin tells you quietly, and you feel your heart stop. “You like Seungcheol?” and the way she uses his full name makes you feel almost ashamed for confirming it with a nod.

“I—” you pause, “—I didn’t know you liked him.”

“I love him,” she corrects you.

“Oh,” is all you manage out.

“You’re pathetic.”

That was the start of it. Yejin sent Chaeyoung over the next day to pick up her stuff from your apartment. You didn’t hear another word from Cheol. The last thing you remember him saying to you was from that night is still a jumble in your head.

You hate crying, and everyone knows it. So when you sprint out of the room minutes after Yejin, eyes red and puffy, Cheol knows something is wrong. Before he can walk up to you, there’s a hand on his shoulder and Yejin has her head pushed up next to his ear.

You don’t know what she tells him, but his gaze falters. The last thing you hear him say is your name quietly as you rush away.

That night, Joshua drives you home while you think about how you’re going to tell your mother that Cheol and Yejin won’t be coming to your house for spring break.

That was six months ago. Of course, six months pales in comparison to the decade you spent as friends. The years from middle school, to high school, to college—you three side by side. Things changed so quickly, too quickly.

Sometimes you think about what she might’ve told him—what she could’ve said that made him turn away at every gathering you were both at after that. That made him erase the years you shared before all this. That made you all strangers.

You figure things like this will never make sense to you. You don’t understand now, and you probably never will—you are content with that.

At least, up until three days ago you were. Some small voice in your head is reminding you of the confusion, the hurt, the heartbreak you felt when it all happened. Now, you’re more desperate than ever to know what exactly happened, it’s just a matter of if you’re willing to go down this rabbit hole of reconnection.

It’s like the universe hears you and laughs. The ringing of the door fills the little cafe and you’re pushing yourself off the counter, nodding and Hyunwoo. “I got it,” you tell him, dropping your cup in the sink and walking over to the register.

Of course it’s Cheol standing in front of you. You can’t tell if he found out your schedule from Joshua (but no, Joshua wouldn’t do that to you) or if it’s just something like fate. Fate.

You sigh, preparing yourself for yet another onslaught of thoughts. “What can I get you?”

There’s something mischievous glinting in his eyes. “Don’t you remember my usual?” Cheol attempts, and you’re surprised by his forwardness. Don’t be shocked, you think. Cheol never backs down, never stops trying.

Do you give in? Just this once? He did help you out that night—you aren’t sure if you’d be able to get home in one piece if it weren’t for him. Then again, it could’ve just been one of Cheol’s kind favors, something that isn’t reserved for only you, but just any drunk girl in general. You don’t want to mistake his qualities of a gentleman with him holding out a figurative olive branch.

Trust me, his words are like a broken record in your mind.

You’re thinking too much. Fuck, if he didn’t hold out the olive branch that night, you’re going to try to now.

“Iced latte with hazelnut syrup,” you say quietly, tapping it into the tablet. You’re scared to look up because you know he's grinning. You shouldn’t want to be the reason behind his smiles, but you do.

“Thanks,” he chirps, holding out his card so you can turn around the tablet for him.

“Your order will come out on your left,” you tell him, not looking up. You expect things to stop now, for things to quietly go back to normal.

“Hey, when do you get off?”

You do a double take to make sure you heard him correctly. “Sorry?” You finally look up at him and god, you start to remember why you loved his smile so much.

“I asked when you get off from your shift? Six?”

“I—uh, yeah,” you reply without thinking. “How’d you know?”

“That’s when Joshua gets off on Fridays. Just a guess,” he shrugs. You purse your lips and don’t respond, not sure where to take things from here; yeah you held out the branch but you didn’t expect him to grab it just this quickly. “Can I stay until then?”

You should say no. You really should say no. But then you’re thrown back to three days ago and the words are sounding an awful lot like trust me, trust me, and then you realize you just can’t deny him.

“Okay,” you say softly. You can tell from the look of relief on Cheol’s face that he wasn’t expecting this, and you aren’t sure what to take from that. As you turn to make his drink, you glance at the clock. Thirty seven minutes before your shift ends, and you can’t figure out if you’re going to try and make the time before them fly or go slow.

Handing Cheol his drink, you don’t say anything, your movements swift as you try and unbox your own feelings. Of course, you aren’t given the liberty to do that, not when Hyunwoo is standing in front of you.

“Is that Seungcheol?”

“Take a wild guess,” you mutter, closing your eyes tightly for a moment. Maybe if you think hard enough you’ll realize it’s just a dream where your actions have no real consequences.

“I thought you two didn’t talk.”

“Did Joshua tell you that?”

“Kind of…maybe…I sorta figured it out on my own,” Hyunwoo admits. “Sorry, that sounds weird.” You sigh softly, feeling bad for how flustered Hyunwoo is.

“It’s okay…let’s just get back to work,” you suggest, turning away to clean up some of the counters with your extra time.

You don’t notice it, but Cheol watches the conversation between you and Hyunwoo unfold, and while he can’t hear what you two are saying, he has a feeling he won’t like it. He has to remind himself to not have high expectations, to not get his hopes up, just like Jeonghan and Joshua warn, but he just can’t help it.

But when you agree to see him after your shift (he knows you didn’t technically agree to that, but he knows you and is sure that you caught onto his underlying message), he just has to stay hopeful. So as he patiently waits for the clock to strike six, he thinks about what to say.

To be honest, this all happened on a whim. Again, he didn’t really know that you were working today, he just happened to get lucky. Cheol himself isn’t sure what exactly he wants to say to you, he just knows it is a lot.

He thinks about you a lot. The good, the bad, all the in between—Seungcheol misses you. And he knows that it isn’t fair, that he shouldn’t do this, that he doesn’t have the right—Joshua has made that clear to him on numerous occasions.

“She’s fine without you.”

“But—”

“You don’t have a say about being in her life.”

“And you do?” Cheol shoots out.

Joshua steps back. “I don’t either, but I know how she’s doing better than you. I know how she felt after everything happened.”

Cheol pauses. That, Joshua did. Cheol didn’t know anything, did he? “This isn’t about you, it’s about me and it’s about her.”

“There is no you and her,” Joshua says bluntly. Cheol doesn’t say anything, but he knows in his mind that he needs to change that.

Cheol lets the idea run through his mind, that he's making a royal mistake right now, and all this is going to amount to nothing. He doesn’t mull over it for longer than ten seconds. He is going to do this, and if he doesn’t, he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.

You get off your shift while Hyunwoo continues his. “You’re going to talk to him?” he asks with knitted eyebrows, pointing at Cheol.

“Uh, yeah,” you say sheepishly in the back, untying your apron. “Don’t tell Joshua, he’ll kick my ass,” you add, only only half joking. Joshua definitely won’t let you hear the end of this, but that is another problem for another time. Hanging up your apron, you grab your backpack from the shelf and slip to the back door. “See you later!” you chirp, throwing Hyunwoo one last wave before you enter the seating area from the back to make your way to Cheol who’s sitting at an elevated stool by the window.

Your once confident strides are much smaller now, you find yourself holding back each one more and more. Do you really want this? Trust me. You’ll just have to find out. “Hey,” you say quietly, and this time you don’t let your gaze fall, tapping on Cheol’s shoulder. He turns around quickly, straw in his mouth as he drinks the half finished drink with a smile.

“Hey, you’re early,” he states casually, glancing at the time. It’s 5:57.

“I guess,” you reply, voice as still as you can manage.

“You’ve probably been here for a while,” Cheol murmurs to himself, getting up from his seat. “You want to go on a walk? The weather is nice right now.”

You want to roll your eyes and tease him, saying “it’s August, of course the weather is nice,” but you stop yourself—you aren’t sure if you’re ready for that level of comfort yet. “Sure,” you agree instead, adjusting your bag over your shoulder as you follow him out the door and onto the main street.

“How was work? Stopped working at the bakery, huh?” he says, and you just don’t get it. How is he being so casual? How is he acting like this is the first time you two have had a real conversation in months? How is he—you don’t even realize you’ve stopped walking until he calls out your name. God, you really missed how it sounded when he said your name. “What’s wrong?”

You don’t even think before responding. “What do you think is wrong?” Cheol is standing a few feet in front of you and the look on his face is confusing…you can’t read it. You aren’t sure if it’s because he’s confused, or if it’s because you just aren’t used to this, or what. Whatever it is, you don’t like it.

“I’m sorry,” Cheol says softly, stepping forward. You still don’t move. “I—uh shit, sorry—this,” he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “this is weird, you’re right I just, I don’t know—”

“Is there something you want to say?” Your eyes bore into his, and Cheol knows he can’t keep any secrets from you.

“I’m sorry.”

You nod. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks hopefully.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask with a shrug. “Sorry for what?”

“A lot of things. Everything,” Cheol admits, and your eyes widen slightly at his honesty. You pretend to glance down at your watch.

“Well you’re going to have to be more specific,” you tell him truthfully, “and don’t have a lot of time.”

“I’ll come again!” he says quickly, holding his hands up as you’re about to walk towards your car. “When do you work? Tell me. I’ll come after every shift.”

“I work almost everyday.”

“I’ll come everyday,” he says with no hesitation. Your heart tightens. You a month ago would have said fuck no, but then trust me, trust me is echoing in your head again and before you can stop yourself, you’re nodding.

“Mondays and Tuesday I get off at 6, Wednesdays at 9, Thursdays at…”

You used to believe Seungcheol always lived up to his promises. When you were younger, you couldn’t think of a single time when he didn’t go by his word. You trusted him, always, so when he broke the promise of “we’ll stick together”—arguably the only one that actually mattered—you were shattered. You still are, or at least your trust is.

Right now, Cheol promises he’ll come see you after every shift. You don’t think you should trust him, but you do anyway, watching the clock to make sure he’s always here on time. You tell yourself you do it because you don’t like to be kept waiting, but you know deep down that you’re just trying to find an excuse.

You’re trying to justify your distrust, even though you already have a perfectly good reason for being tentative around Cheol. Somehow, whenever you’re with him, you forget about it all.

It’s awkward most of the time. Well, more like you’re awkward and Cheol just pretends you aren’t, acting all normal and like you aren’t stumbling over your words and blanking out mid sentence.

You’re not nervous, you just don’t know what to say, the words getting lost in your head as you wonder whether or not there’s a line and where it is and if you should cross it.

Today is the fifth day Cheol comes to see you after your shift. He comes in at 6:54 which is a bit earlier than usual, and it’s the first time that Joshua is seeing the scene unfold. As Cheol walks in, your friend throws you a careful glance before waving over at his friend and connecting fists as he hops over to take his order.

“Iced latte with—”

“I’m not here for a drink,” Cheol says quickly, putting his hand up before he can watch Joshus key in his usual order.

“Huh…did I miss something?” Joshua asks, checking his watch for any missed messages. You chew your lip and Cheol glances at you, realizing that you haven’t told Joshua that you and him are speaking again.

“Uh, no,” Cheol murmurs. He points at you and when he sees that you don’t protest, he proceeds. “We’re, uh, I’m just waiting for her shift to end and—” he stops talking when Joshua whips his head around to stare at you with a look of bewilderment.

You nod shyly, untying your apron as you make your way to the back room. Joshua follows quickly behind you, closing the door behind him while you hang up the garment. “What does he mean by that?”

“I dunno, Josh,” you say, because honestly you aren’t sure how to explain it either.

“Remember what you said?” he tells you—you know where this is headed, and you really don’t want him to bring it up. “You said you’d never forgive them.”

You did say that. “In a moment of anger,” you argue, grabbing your bag. You know he’s just being protective of you, but right now it’s getting on your nerves.

“And? You’re just going to forgive him because he drove you home when you were drunk?”

“I haven’t forgiven him!” you pause. “At least not yet.”

“You’re seriously going to forgive him after all that you said about moving on?”

“I have moved on, Joshua,” you tell him. It’s true. “There’s nothing wrong with letting him back in my life now, especially if he wants to.”

“And what if he fucks up again?”

You roll your eyes as you walk to the back door. “How’s that supposed to happen? Thought you said he and Yejin broke up?”

“They did, but that isn’t the point.”

“Then what is?” you ask exasperatedly. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions. You’re acting like I don’t know the consequences of my actions. You’re acting as if I wasn’t the one who had to go through all that, so please just let me make this decision.”

Joshua steps back and sighs, and by the way he doesn’t say anything as you open the door, you assume he has accepted defeat.

Cheol meets you on the other side of the door, wearing his usual smile. You can only pray that he didn’t hear your conversation with Joshua. “Hey,” he greets and you nod in response. Well if he heard anything, he pretends he doesn’t. The truth is, Cheol hears every word, he’s just very good at putting a smile on his face.

You two walk out of the store silently and side by side. “How was work?” Cheol asks.

“Good. It’s most fun with Joshua,” you reply, walking on the sidewalk like you two usually do. You follow a trail down the street and through some parks for kids, always making a round trip back to your cafe where your car is parked.

The days have been getting shorter, and it’s evident by the way the sky is painted a deep orange right now. “Didn’t sound like he’s too happy today,” Cheol comments, and you halt your steps for just a moment, realizing he did hear you two.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumble. You two haven’t talked about that since you started speaking again. All the things Cheol said he wanted to apologize for were left suspended in the air, waiting for one of you to pluck it out and face reality. Neither of you were ever really good at that. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.” 

“I’m sorry you had to say that,” Cheol responds almost instantly, standing in the middle of the sidewalk and turning to face you.

Your eyebrows furrow when you respond, “What?”

“I mean, shit, I worded that badly,” he groans, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m sorry that…you know—you said you’d never forgive me and I’m sorry. And I know you probably shouldn’t forgive me but I’m sorry.”

You certainly weren’t expecting that, but then again, you need to remind yourself to never be surprised when it comes to Cheol. You bite back the words, “it’s okay,” because you aren’t ready to say that, so instead you just nod. “Okay.” Your eyes glaze around your surroundings and they fall on a bench. Pointing at it, you say, “Let’s sit, yeah?”

You two sit side by side on the bench, and you think that this is the closest either of you have been in a long time, your thighs almost brushing against each other’s. The sky darkens above you, and you usually would take this as your cue to go back to your car, but tonight, you stay.

There’s a question that’s prodding at the back of your mind, and you chide yourself for even thinking about it. Don’t ask him, don’t do it, and you almost listen. Almost. You figure that the fact that you’re even here with Cheol right now is a sign that things are changing more than they already have, that you’re changing in ways that you didn’t know you could, and Cheol is changing, and he’s changing for you.

Cheol senses it too, that you’re thinking deeply, and he waits. When you’re finally lifting your head and looking up at the sky, he turns to you as you open your mouth. “How did you guys break up?” You can’t bring yourself to say “you and Yejin.” It’s too painful of a reminder that there was once a Cheol and Yejin, and that it came at the expense of you and Cheol and Yejin.

He takes a deep breath and hesitates, but you don’t retract your question. You feel after everything, you deserve to know, no matter how aching the memory is. “She cheated on me.”

“Oh.”

Cheol’s voice is flat for the first time since you’ve started speaking again. “Yeah,” he mutters. You purse your lips together, unsure of what to do, what to say. There was a time that you felt you knew all the right words, all the right things to do, but now you’re lost. Maybe it’s because Cheol has changed, but then—no, it’s not him, it’s you. You’ve changed. You thought you didn’t care, and that was true.

You didn’t care about what happened to Cheol or Yejin or them because they had left you and there was nothing after that. You didn’t care because caring wouldn’t help you get either of them back, and you didn’t care because caring only made long nights of you crying in your bed even longer.

But did you ever stop caring about Cheol? About Yejin? There’s a fine line, you realize, between caring about your relationship with someone and caring about them, and it hits you that not once did you not care about Cheol.

What would you have done if this had happened six months ago? What would you have said? You were never the best at words, but when it came to Cheol and Yejin, you always found some way to make them feel better. Looking over at Cheol, his head hangs low as he chews on his lip.

You reach over your hand and place it on his shoulder gently. “I’m sorry,” you tell him.

Cheol chuckles hollowly, causing you to frown deeply. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”

“We have time for that later,” you reply honestly, not breaking the contact even when he shifts a little, finally looking up at you.

“Later?” he asks hopefully. You smile and nod. This is a promise, you both know. Joshua is going to kill you for this later.

“He got fired?” you snort. “Didn’t he say he could get away with anything?”

“Yeah,” Cheol chuckles. “And to be fair, he did get away with a lot. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t get fired months ago. He would give me and Soonyoung discounts all the time, it was crazy.”

“I remember that…” you say quietly.

“Yeah, anyways, he got fired and now he’s complaining about not having extra cash. Minghao’s telling him to just find another job but Hannie is convinced that he’ll be able to convince his boss to hire him back…”

“Knowing Jeonghan, he might just be able to pull that off.”

“Who knows,” Cheol murmurs with a shrug. “It’s late. Do you want to go?”

“Want me gone already?” you tease. Things are more comfortable now. It isn’t the same as before—how could it—but it’s getting there. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be “back to the old days,” but you sure are trying to get as close as you can.

“You know that isn’t true,” he shoots back. You trust him, and if that’s a mistake, you hardly care. Maybe this is where you start to crumble. “I’m just trying to make sure that it’s not too late when you get home.”

He’s being caring, although it isn’t unexpected. Cheol was always caring. “You’re right,” you murmur, not wanting to admit that you might have wanted to sit here and talk to him a bit longer. You stand up, grabbing your back and he follows after you as you walk up the street in the direction of the shop. You return back to the conversation of Jeonghan and his antics both in and out of the workplace, and before you know it, you’re back at the parking lot.

You’ve grown to look forward to these meetings—how could you not—and it does kill a little bit of self control inside of you every time you realize that fact.

“You gonna go now?” he asks softly, and as you stop walking, you let the tension grow thick. This part is always awkward. You don’t know if it’s fitting to say “bye” or “goodbye” or “see you later” or hug him or wave or—you usually settle for a smile but there’s a growing ache in your heart which tells you that maybe you want more.

Cheol seems to think the same, and it all happens so quickly, too quickly, and suddenly you’re going dizzy and your world is spinning.

Choi Seungcheol’s lips are soft.

And they don’t press against yours for more than a second before you place your hands on his chest and push him back. You almost indulge. Almost.

“Why would you do that?” you whisper, not meeting his gaze. Cheol runs a hand through his hair, steeping back with wide eyes.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking—shit, shit, shit—I’m sorry, I’m so sor—”

You ball your fists and your face contorts into some ugly sort of grimace. “Stop saying that!” you cry out, and Cheol stills. “Stop fucking saying you’re sorry! I-I-I hate it!”

“What?” and the hurt is more than evident in his voice.

“I know you’re sorry, okay? I get it,” you tell him exasperatedly. “And you keep saying it—you’re sorry for everything, you’re sorry for all of it. It’s all you say, but maybe if you just stopped and thought for a second you’d realize that no matter how much you keep saying it, I have not once said it’s okay.”

He gapes at you for a moment but recovers quickly, running a hand through his hair. “I—” he pauses, “I don’t know how else to tell you. It’s been a few weeks and—”

“You didn’t speak to me for six months,” you spit out, and you wonder if this is what it’s all going to come down to. The past month of you figuring out your emotions, working out what you want, what’s good for you, what’s not—you’re afraid that right now it will all amount to nothing.

Maybe you two were in your heads too long. Maybe this was your harsh pull back down to the ground.

“Six months, Seungcheol,” you repeat, and he winces when you use his full name.

“I know, I’m s—”

“You’re sorry, I know,” you say quieter this time, slumping against the wall. His lips were so warm, so soft, you still feel their ghost on your lips. You calm down for a second at the thought, but then your anger bubbles up when you remind yourself that Yejin got to taste him too. Got to have him, love him, cherish him for those six months. Jealousy doesn’t suit you, but that isn’t what this is about anyways. Right now, all it does is fuel your heat.

“I just—I don’t know how to really say it,” Cheol admits.

“Well you should figure that out,” you tell him harshly. “I can’t stand here forever, waiting for you to find the right words.”

“You’re right, I know.”

“Do you?” you ask, exhausted. It’s all catching up to you know—you’re tired, so tired.

“I do.”

Do you trust Cheol?

“I don’t believe you,” your voice quivers when you say it, and Cheol feels his heart break at the sound. “I can’t.”

“I know—that’s my fault, I know.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m trying.” You know he is, there isn’t a doubt in your mind. Inhaling deeply, you choose your words carefully.

“We need to talk about everything,” you tell him slowly.

“Okay,” Cheol agrees quickly. “Okay, where do you want to start?”

“Where do you think we should start? I think that’s where we should start.”

Cheol sucks in a breath and pinches his eyebrows together. You can tell that he, just like you, is making sure he doesn’t say anything he’ll regret. “Well, the beginning, I guess,” he sighs, and you open your mouth in protest but he holds his hand out to stop you. “Okay just listen.” “Fine.”

“I found out Yejin liked me in January,” he tells you.

“That was a month before…” your voice trails off and he nods.

“Before we got together and…” And we stopped talking to you. He doesn’t say, doesn’t need to. “Yeah. Chaeyoung told me. Yejin didn’t know I knew until…”

“Until you started liking her,” you mutter under your breath. You furrow your eyebrows and look up at him. “You know I know this, right? Joshua told me when you told him.”

Cheol seems surprised by that. “What, really?” you aren’t sure why he never expected that—you and Joshua are pretty much like siblings, after all.

“Yeah. I think I knew before Yejin,” you admit. Your voice is small, and the way the entire event of six months ago is playing out in your head is a not so nice reminder of why you’re in this situation in the first place.

“Oh.” Silence. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You frown. “What was I supposed to say? ‘No Cheol! Don’t like Yejin! Like me!’” you say in a mocking tone. “Why would I do that to her? Why would I do that to you?” you were calm a moment ago, but you feel yourself growing upset again.

“I thought you—” Cheol thinks for a moment, wondering if he should say it, “—I thought you liked me.”

“I did,” you seethe out. “But did you think I was going to beg you to change your mind? To change your feelings?” Cheol is quiet now, and you take it as your cue to continue. “I…I cared about you and Yejin so much—” that’s a lie (you still do)—“and you should know that if you guys were happy I would be okay with that.”

“What about your feelings? Why didn’t you do anything about that?” Cheol shoots back, and it’s starting to sound an awful lot like your last conversation with Yejin.

“You claim you love him but you’re just willing to give him up like that? That’s pathetic. You are pathetic.”

You feel tears stream down your cheeks at the memory and you need to remind yourself that it isn’t worth crying over—but then again, it is. “I would’ve dealt with my feelings just as I have been for the past six months—by myself and totally fine.”

Cheol doesn’t have a response to that, because if there’s one thing he won’t even attempt to refute, it’s this. Because after everything, you have been okay. You have been healing. It killed him every time Joshua would tell him you’re doing fine, because he wasn’t doing fine and he was having a really, really hard time accepting that.

He knows it’s unfair, Cheol knows he’s being anything but fair, but he just doesn’t know how to help it.

It’s the worst that you’re crying now—crying ‘cause of him. Because Cheol knows that you were okay and it was him that decided to butt back in your life to try and make amends, and you being you, decided to let him back in and fuck—he knows he’s being selfish by doing all this and he know he doesn’t deserve this yet you are still here, trying to hear him out.

“I fucked up, I don’t deserve a second chance.”

You choke back a sob, “Damn right you don’t,” and Cheol knows that you’re right.

“I’m still going to try.”

You brush some tears away from your face. “I know.”

You go home that night without another word, and Cheol only stops you to make sure you’ve stopped crying before you start the car and drive off. It’s the next day, and you can’t help but glance back and forth between the door and clock as your shift nears its end.

“You waiting for him?” Hyunwoo asks you from the side, and you feel a little bit bad at the way his voice sounds a bit sad.

“Uh—” Are you waiting for Cheol? “—I guess, yeah.” There’s no reason for you to deny it. You’ve replayed last night’s conversation more times than you can count, and you still aren’t sure how to feel. You need to see him.

As the time nears six, an uneasy feeling pools at your stomach, and you wonder what you’ll do if he doesn’t show up. End it for good? Add it to the list of reasons why you should never talk to him again? Block h—

The bell above the door ringing saves you from that rabbit hole. It’s 5:59 and Cheol waits in front of the door and for once, he isn’t donning a smile. Looking at Hyunwoo, you throw out a small wave before slipping to the back room. Hyunwoo doesn’t follow you, he stopped doing that after the first two times Seungcheol started coming, although you aren’t sure why. It’s a passing thought though, definitely not at the forefront of your mind as you hang your apron routinely and exit through the back door.

Cheol waits for you by the door and you don’t say anything as you both leave through the front. The atmosphere is thick and you aren’t sure who is going to say what and when. It’s only when you’ve walked around two minutes down your regular path that Cheol stops in front of that bench. Flickering his eyes towards yours for a moment of confirmation, he sits down and motions you to follow. You sit side by side and once again, you two are almost touching, but aren’t quite there just yet.

“So,” you finally say. “Where were we?”

“That night,” Cheol replies quietly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You glance over at him and can’t help but realize how…small he looks. You want to reach out and hold him for a moment, but you shouldn’t.

“What about that night?” you murmur. There’s too much about that night for you to even fathom what he’s thinking about.

“What did Yejin say to you? In the room?” he asks.

“Does that matter?” You seriously don't want to recount it, but then Cheol is nodding and you just have to give in. “She was mad…same reason as you,” you mumble.

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t like how I was accepting of it all,” you sigh, leaning back. “I think she just got sick of me,” you finally confess. “Didn’t like me anymore, and then she thought I was pathetic or something and used that as an excuse to just—I dunno, drop me.” You pause, turning to look at him again. “What did she tell you?”

You know you probably shouldn’t ask. It’ll be painful, you know, but you’re confident you can handle it.

“She said it couldn’t work…the three of us. That it was either me ‘n’ her or nothing, because nothing could go back to normal after this.”

You look down. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You believed her?”

“Well, at the time,” Cheol murmurs, “Yeah I did.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Trust me, trust me. “I liked that she liked me. I liked her and I thought I was going to lose you either way and—”

“I said okay.”

“Is it okay?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly. “I beat myself up a lot for all that, you know? Wondered what she could’ve said that made you not wanna fight to be my friend.” You scoff to yourself. “I guess we both suck at that.”

“Huh?”

“You know: fighting for what we want,” you clarify.

“That can change,” Cheol says, clearing his throat. “I’m fighting right now.”

That conversation is the first of many. One month later and Cheol is still fighting. It’s your birthday, and you aren’t surprised that he remembers, but you are surprised when he gets you a gift. A new apron. “Your old one is getting…well, old.”

You’re both sitting at the bench once again, and for the first time, your thighs brush against each other’s fully. It’s warm, it’s welcoming, it’s soft. Maybe you and Cheol haven’t finished crossing the bridge yet, but you’ve definitely finished building it. There’s time for the rest later. You want to focus on you and him now.

“I wonder why,” you say sarcastically, taking it out of the bag. “It’s cute—hey, is this my name?” you ask excitedly, holding up the little spot on the top with some letter embroidered in.

“Uh, yeah, it’s custom and all…I got Minghao to help me with the design.” You smile genuinely, turning to him.

“Thank you, I love it.”

“Thank god. Jeonghan said it was a stupid gift but I thought it was thoughtful…”

“Jeonghan once got you a rubber duck for your birthday, so I would take everything he says about gift-giving with a big fat grain of salt.”

“Hey, I still have that duck,” he tells you, and you both laugh together. “It’s in the bathroom, I only take it down for special occasions.”

“Special occasions being…?”

Cheol taps his chin. “Hmm…birthdays, the last day of school, Christmas…I’d like to think my luck is pretty great whenever I use it.”

“Is that so…” you hum. “When was the last time you used it?”

“Like two days ago.”

“Nothing special happened two days ago.” That’s a lie, and he sees right through it.

Cheol smiles smugly. “I know. It was just right before I came to see you.” Your cheeks burn as you turn away.

Two days ago being the last time you and him talked about all of it. From beginning to end, just like you had so many times before except for the first time, you were finally able to utter the words, “it’s okay, we’re okay.”

“Right…maybe luck really was on your side then,” you tease.

“Whatever,” Cheol says with a pout, watching you glance at your phone. “Do you need to go? I thought you didn’t have anything planned?”

“I don’t,” you say with a huff. “I just saw that my birthday gift from my parents got delivered. It’s fine, I’ll pick it up when I get home later.” You ponder whether this is the right moment to bring it up. “You can… come along if you want.”

It’s almost as if his ears perk up. “To your place?”

“Um, yeah,” you try to come off as casual. “Only if you want,” you add quickly, and he picks up on the double meaning right away.

Which is how you end up here.

“Haven’t been here in so long,” Cheol murmurs, looking over your apartment. It’s the exact same, save for some pictures with Yejin and him that have since been taken down. He would have been upset about it a month ago, but now he is content. It only makes it a goal for him to take more pictures with you now so you’ll have some to put up.

“Mhm,” you nod, putting your bag down on your kitchen counter.

“Hey…” he says softly as you flick on one light. It’s dim, but there’s just enough light for you to see the worried look on his face.

“Everything alright?”

He chews on his lips and he looks pretty. “I need to know where your head is at right now,” he admits. There’s a lot of different meanings to what he’s just asked, but with the way he’s looking at you, you have a pretty good idea of what he’s trying to say. “I don’t want to misread anything like the last time I—the last time.” The last time he kissed you.

You look down at the counter. You brought him here for a reason, but are you ready?

Trust me, trust me.

Of course you are. With Cheol, you’ll always be ready.

So when he’s pushing you up against the wall, hands grappling at your waist, feeling his warm, wet lips against you, you don’t waste a single second thinking about anyone else. You don’t think about what Joshua will say, you don’t think about how Jeongyeon will react, you don’t think about the look on Yejin’s face if she were to ever find out about this because right now, it’s Cheol that’s in front of you, and it’s Cheol that will always be in front of you.

One leg around his torso, your mouth smashes against his in a tangled mess of tongue and lip and it’s desperate and has you aching for more. And then he’s leading you to your bedroom and you are reminded of the fact that Cheol knows this place so well that he doesn’t even need to ask for directions.

Throwing you onto the bed your mind goes blank—it’s as if all the happiness in the world rushes to you at once, leaving you all light-headed and disoriented when Cheol clambers on top of you, his thigh wedged between your legs.

With his fingers pressed deeply into your hips as he runs his tongue along your jawline,rocking  your clothed cunt against Cheol’s bare thigh, his gym shorts hiked up so that you can press your core as close to him as possible. Your breath is slightly labored as his lips press open mouthed kisses all the way down, and you feel yourself become increasingly needy at the way you can see the imprint of his cock against his shorts.

“Shit—you’re so—wait,” he murmurs, pulling his lips away from your burning skin to bore his eyes down at you. “Is this okay?” he asks softly, pulling his knee back so there’s some space between you and him. Cheol doesn’t expect for your eyes to widen, hand shooting out and grabbing his thigh to make sure it doesn’t move another inch.

“Yes,” you gasp out, pulling his leg so hard that he stumbles forward a bit when you do, the hard muscle pressing back against your core. Cheol lets the initial shock of you being needy for him settle in, and suddenly he’s grinning and having one hand back at your waist, the other at your neck so he can tilt your head up and have better access to skin over your collarbone.

His fingers are rough and calloused as they slip beneath your shirt, pushing it up just far enough that your bra is exposed. Hovering above you, you watch through hazy vision as Cheol’s eyes dilate at the sight, swooping his head down to free one of your tits from the cup and catching a nipple in his mouth.

Your body jerks against his as he swipes a tongue over the hardened peak, and suddenly you feel that there’s too much fabric between you and his thigh. “Ch-cheol,” you mutter, tapping at his head that is currently burning beneath your shirt while he sneaks kisses all up and down your stomach, between your tits, and over your cleavage.

“What is it, baby?” he coos, pulling his head out and looking up at you, the pet name shooting shivers up our spine.

“Pants—ah—” you whine when he presses his thigh harder into you. “Pants!” you cry, trying your best to unbutton them with shaky fingers. Cheol picks up right away, helping you unzip them before hooking two fingers on the waistband and yanking the fabric down and over your feet, freeing yourself and your pussy of its unbearable restraints.

“Fuck, this is—you’re so hot,” he murmurs, looking down at your bare legs and tracing his fingers from your ankles to your knees, and then finally through your inner thighs where he bends down and starts to place rough kisses.

Usually, if he was in his right mind, Cheol would have wanted to take his sweet time with you, unraveling, unwinding all of you. But he’s figured that both of you have waited long enough and that you both deserve to be needy, to be desperate, to let this moment pass as quickly as it started because there will be plenty of time for a round two and three later on.

All you need right now is to feel each other, which is how he ends up pushing your panties to the side and digging his tongue into your dripping folds without warning. “Cheol!” you moan loudly, your hand gripping his hair tightly while he simultaneously wraps one arm over your hips, pulling you closer.

Seungcheol is going crazy, he thinks, because the taste of your pussy is better than any alcohol he’s ever drunk. You’re sweet and your cunt is literally fluttering its pretty fuck folds all for him as he slides one finger through them to collect your growing wetness. He feels himself growing high on the feeling and taste alone, his own hips pressing into the mattress in hopes of relieving some of the tension in his own pants.

There’s a slobbering mess that runs down his lips and chin as he fervently makes out with your pussy, and you briefly wonder how a man can be so good at making you feel this good before the thought is swept from your mind by one of Cheol’s thick fingers prodding at your entrance.

Holy hell, you’re so tight for him—gummy walls clamping down on his single digit the second he started to move it in and out’ta you, his mind racing as he thinks about how you might feel around his cock. And Cheol isn’t the only one thinking about it either, because when he’s slipping in another finger, you’re already crying out for more.

“I gotta work you up to it baby,” he tells you sympathetically, using one free hand to shove down his pants leaving him in only a shirt and boxers.

“Don’t wanna wait…” you protest with a pout, eyes shamelessly looking down at his figure hunched over you so you can catch sight of the imprint of his cock against his boxers.

Cheol chuckles, even though he’s on the brink of giving in himself. “Take your shirt off for me, yeah? It’ll save us some time.” That’s all you need to hear before you’re sitting up and yanking the stupidly tight shirt over your head and throwing it to the side as Cheol’s fingers continue their onslaught deep inside your cunt.

It’s less of an in and out motion now, and more of a curling motion that’s exploring you, finding out what makes you hum, what makes you moan, and what makes you go—“Oh fuck, Cheol!” He grins at the sound, leaning down to press a kiss on your clit as he pulls his slick fingers away.

“You wanted more?” he murmurs, slipping his own shirt over his head to reveal the familiar set of abs and toned chest. You let out a dazed smile at the sight, letting your body fall back onto the mattress.

“‘course I do,” you reply without hesitation, watching eagerly as his hand holds the waistband of his boxers and pushes the cloth down, revealing his cock all thick and hard as it springs out and hits his abdomen.

It’s long and it’s thick, and it’s nothing less than what you expected from Cheol, in fact, it’s a lot more than that. But you don’t even have time to think about how pretty his cock looks, pink tip all flushed as a thick vein runs down the side of its length, because it’s pushing against your entrance as he watches your face carefully.

When your eyebrows knit into a convulsion of pleasure and you squeak out his full name, he knows he can't hold back, slamming into your drooling cunt in one go.

And his cock is so big it’s pushing you open, but the pain is so good, so enthralling, that you don’t even mind being split in half if it’s like this—if it’s because every time he pulls his hips back, you know he’ll slam it deeper and deeper every single time, hitting spots deep inside of your cunt that you didn’t even know existed.

All while your limbs are flailing around him, thrashing as you bite into his shoulder, muffling your cries of, “Cheol, Cheol, Cheol!”

Your name falls from his lips too, mixed in with the mindless words of, beautiful, pretty, princess as he compliments you for takin’ him so well and squeezin’ him so good he doesn't know how he hasn’t bust already.

“God, fuck,” he moans when you look up at him through heavy lashes, tethering his boto m lip between his teeth to try and slow his impending orgasm. “Fuck,” he chokes out, “shit—I love you—”

And there is your breaking point. Like the world has come to a stop and there is only you and Cheol and this moment and—god, you really are too far gone now—and him and you is all that matters.

You cum like you never have before, his cock battering your cunt ‘til you’re shaking and crying and yelling out his name as you feel nothing but him, think nothing but him, know nothing but him.

This is the moment you’ve both been waiting for, and as soon as Cheol has noticed your slower breaths he’s pulling out and letting you wrap one hand around his fat cock to help jerk himself off. He’s so close—so fucking close—and then you’re whispering those fated words—those three words—he feels everything in him just snap, hot cum shooting all over your swollen, abused cunt, and Cheol feels his heart swell.

Love.

There’s a lot more you need to work on, you both know that, but it’s okay.

Trust me, trust me.

I love you.

a/n. literally wrote the last part half asleep and i hate the ending but... okay wow … i had a tough time writing this because i really wanted it to be taken slow and i’m not really sure how well it went … also this story might have been a bit a lot of a reflection of a friendship that went wrong in my own life LOL so this might be me playing out how i wish things ended up :/so anyways please sharing ur thoughts and like and reblog!

#scoups #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol smut #seungcheol drabble #seungcheol scenarios #scoups imagines #scoups x reader #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x you #svt smut #svt reactions #svt fanfic #svt scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol imagine #choi seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol smut #seungcheol angst #seventeen angst #svt angst #scoups angst #seventeen fluff #📝 writing

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

conrad thanksgiving fic please!!

This has been in my drafts for a long time...sorry. I might delete later, I don't really like it. It's not giving what I wanted it to...

Request: You’ve done Conrad dating a Haley James type of character, what about a Blair Waldorf type character? Old money, fiercely strong, rich, and outspoken. She and Belly would NOT get along, at all. He takes her to Thanksgiving dinner and Susannah is still there and she loves her

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—

Thanksgiving had always been a massive celebration in your family. Every year, your parents would go all out and host a dinner with their closest friends and their families. Your mother would direct the caterer team and make sure everything was perfect before the guests’ arrival. At the end the meal by having a slice of your father’s infamous pumpkin pie — which was your personal favorite part. 

This year, Thanksgiving was going to be different. Your father was in Paris for business and your mother somewhere in Europe, expanding her collection of vintage designer handbags. Had you not been in college, you would have happily joined her.

‘’Why don’t you come with me to Boston?’’ Conrad asked as you watched him pack a bag for the weekend.  ‘’My mom keeps asking me when she’ll get to meet you.’’ 

The thought of spending Thanksgiving alone had been looming over you, and Conrad's invitation was like a ray of light. 

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. ‘’You told your mother about me?’’

‘’Not really,’’ Conrad explained, picking another sweater and adding it into his bag. ‘’She heard your voice when she called the other day and Jeremiah told her all about you. He’s such a big mouth...’’ He shook his head, wishing his brother could hold his tongue sometimes. 

Susannah was ecstatic to have another guest for dinner. It was on very short notice and most of the preparations were already done when Conrad informed her of your addition to the table, but she would never pass up an opportunity to meet her Connie’s new girlfriend.  

When you and Conrad walked in, Susannah was all over you, complimenting your dress and how gorgeous you looked. You were quick to return her compliments, pointing out how her eyes looked exactly like Conrad's.

You met the other guests — Conrad’s father and brother, then Laurel and her kids —, and all were surprised by who Conrad had brought home. No one ever expected him to date someone born of old money. He’s dated Nicole, but she was nowhere as rich as your family. 

‘’Look at this amazing table,’’ Susannah said as she brought in the turkey, looking very proud of herself. ‘’Martha Stewart can kiss my ass!’’

Your eyes went wide for a short second, not expecting such words from her. She looked so sweet and delicate. 

Conrad shook his head at his mother, happy to see her being herself again. 

Everyone got seated, then Susannah spoke again. ‘’Before we eat, let’s go around the table and say one thing that we’re thankful for. Jere Bear, you can start.’’  

You lifted your eyes at Jeremiah across the table, who looked nothing like his brother. If you hadn’t known, you would never have guessed they were related. 

‘’I’m thankful for my mom,’’ the younger Fisher began, ‘’who reconsidered trying this new treatment for us. I don’t know what I would do without you, Mom.’’ He glanced at his mother, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. 

Susannah squeezed his hand over the table while everyone was trying to not get emotional. 

Conrad had told you about his mother’s breast cancer having come back in the spring. He tried to hide her sickness from you, but when you found him crying in his dorm on a Saturday afternoon, you knew something wasn’t okay. It was a tough subject for the entire family — especially since it was the second time she was going through this. For that, Susannah didn’t like to talk about cancer. She didn’t want her whole life to revolve around it just because a nasty tumor had returned in her body. She wanted to live her life the way it’s always been…and take a few more sitting breaks when needed.

In turn, the other guests said what they were thankful for. It went from Steven getting a car for his birthday to Belly becoming captain of her school’s volley-ball team and Laurel being a typical mom and being thankful for her children. 

‘’Connie, it’s your turn,’’ Susannah said, motioning to her eldest son.

Conrad nodded at his mom, then cleared his throat. ‘’Jeremiah took the words out of my mouth, so I’ll say something else I’m equally thankful for.’’ His lips tugged up into a little half smile and he reached over the table to take your hand in his. ‘’I’m thankful for meeting my amazing girlfriend, who came into my life at the most unexpected, yet perfect moment.’’ 

You smiled back at Conrad, giving his fingers a little squeeze. 

Seated before you, Belly snickered lightly. ‘’Can we eat now? Mom didn't want us to get snacks on the way here and I’m starving.’’ 

Laurel gave her daughter a pointed glare, wishing she would behave. 

Although the pumpkin pie didn’t come close to your father’s recipe, you made sure to tell Susannah it reminded you of home. 

‘’I hope your parents are not too sad that you came to Boston instead,’’ Susannah said, incapable of imagining spending Thanksgiving without her family — especially her boys. 

‘’Not at all, Mrs. Fisher,’’ you politely replied. ‘’My parents were both out of the country this Thanksgiving. Business related travel.’’

Susannah raised an eyebrow. ‘’Oh? What is it that they do?’’ 

You didn’t mean to brag, but she had asked. ‘’My mother is a fashion designer and my father is a lawyer at my grandfather’s firm.’’ 

You caught Belly rolling her eyes and muttering something. You didn’t care what she thought of you, you were the one who got to share Conrad’s bed at the end of the day. Ignoring her childish reactions, you continued talking to Susannah about your parents. She was very interested in your mother’s designs.

When dinner was officially over, you all vacated the table. Jeremiah and Steven went to the living room to set up a game for the five of you to play — another family tradition. You had never played cards against humanity before, but you’ll give it a try. 

Before you reached the living room, Conrad pulled you in a corner near the stairs, wanting some time alone with you. 

‘’Belly despises me,’’ you pointed to him, keeping your voice down so no one would hear.

Conrad rolled his eyes as he curled an arm around you, knowing how you had the tendency to exaggerate things. ‘’She does not. She’s just…having difficulty accepting that I moved on.’’

You made a face at him. ‘’Don’t you defend her. Have you seen all the sour looks she gave me during dinner? Your eyes might be the most beautiful shade of blue, my love, but I believe they are in need of a visual acuity test. You should schedule one when we get back to Palo Alto.’’ 

Conrad chuckled, amused by your theatrics. 

‘’Belly is going to be tougher to win with your charm. Like every ex-girlfriend, she’s gonna try to paint you as a mean girl, so you just have to show her that you’re the opposite. Compliment her. Tell her you like her sweater.’’

‘’But it looks itchy. It’s probably polyester.’’ 

The corner of Conrad’s lips turned into a smile.

—

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#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher imagine #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine #tsitp imagine #tsitp

[tommysversion]

Sharing Is Caring 🌶️🌶️ { Mafia!AU Joel Miller x Reader x Javier Peña }

{{ Several people asked what would happen if mafia enforcer Joel and corrupt agent Javi existed in the same universe. Then several others suggested the reader should be in a sandwich between them. I’m personally inclined to agree. This is the result. There’s no plot; it’s just smut. }}

CW: 18+ only / smut / language / age gap / degrading talk / unsafe sex / oral sex (m!receiving) / threesome / proceed at own caution?

This fic is for @joelsgirl xoxo

——

You’re more than aware that you’re in a dangerous position. Both these men could kill you, think nothing of it, and bury you in a shallow grave somewhere. Hell, nobody would even bother looking. Except maybe the other.

You had never meant to become caught between two men who had more than enough hate and rivalry between them already. Two opposing sides of one coin; a corrupt DEA agent, and the right hand man of the local mafia.

And then there’s you. You serve drinks at a club they both frequent. Dance when you feel like it. Flirt with whoever catches your eye. In this instance, it’s gotten you in a whole load of trouble, with two dangerous men who don’t want to share you.

Too bad, because you’re not entirely sure you want to choose between them.

You were Joel’s first, one of his girls, his favourite. Then Javi got to you, fully intending on interrogating you for information about Joel’s criminal dealings. Only to end up fucking you senseless on the floor instead.

They don’t play fair, and their hate for each other is clear as day, but where you’re concerned? They’re willing to compromise.

It’s intoxicating, knowing you have so much sway over two men who could destroy you without blinking. You don’t take advantage of it, toeing a fine line to keep yourself safe, but you refuse to choose a side.

Which has led you to this situation, pinned between two men who hate each other, who at any other moment would be pointing weapons and trading insults. Brought to a stalemate by their mutual need for you.

You can’t ever say you don’t have power in this life.

The resemblance between them, physically, is startling. They could be brothers, even if Joel is older. Both attractive as hell. Both dangerous. Both fucking incredible in bed.

Joel’s mouth trails kisses down your bare throat, finding a spot he likes before he bites down, sucks a mark into sensitive skin.

“Possessive, much, Miller?” Javi almost drawls it, his accent thicker than usual as he watches, his fingers tracing circles on your hips. He can’t talk; he can’t keep his hands off you, grinding his still clothed cock against your bare ass.

How is it that you’re completely naked and neither of them have taken off anything more than their coats? You suppose it’s only fair that they at least manage to conspire against you for something.

“Reminding her of her place.” Joel doesn’t even bother looking at the other man, licks the mark he’s just left on you.

“Pretty sure she knows her place.” Javi lays a light slap to your ass. “It’s right where she wants to be.”

Of the pair, he’s the least likely to underestimate you. Has a feeling you’re in this situation because you want to be, that in spite of everything, you’re the one in control here.

Joel hates that he agrees with his rival, makes a somewhat grouchy noise of agreement, gives a noncommittal jerk of the head.

“If by that you mean on her knees or on her back with one of our cocks in her, I’m unfortunately inclined to agree.”

You love how they talk about you, like you’re not there. Like you’re just an object for their pleasure. Even more delicious is the way you’re literally pressed between them, Javi grinding against your ass, Joel against your cunt, neither of them trying to disguise how much they want you.

“Definitely.” Javi wraps his hand around your hair, makes a fist in it, turns your head so he can kiss you. It’s not a sweet kiss, not really, more rough and needy and possessive. Like he’s proving a point.

Maybe he is, but Joel doesn’t comment. He knows this alliance is only temporary, doesn’t want to tread on Javi’s toes too heavily. The agreement formed, the bribes and the information passed between them, is as delicate as a house of cards, and you’re the foundation.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t piss him off, just a little, to see the way you lean into the agent, lips parted, moaning into his mouth. He doesn’t like seeing you so fucking needy for anyone else, even though he’s never officially decided you’re his.

He shouldn’t fucking have to. Everyone else gives you a wide berth, knowing he’s about two steps behind you, possessive and silent as a shadow. Apparently that menacing act doesn’t apply to Javi, doesn’t stop him from throwing down a challenge.

You know you should - theoretically - make a decision, but you’re selfish, and why not admit it? They’re both dangerous, sexy, and you love that they fight over you.

Joel’s rough, scarred hand cups your bare cunt, sliding two thick fingers into you. He’s not playing fair, but it’s immensely fucking satisfying to know that this time, when you moan into Javi’s mouth, it’s because of him.

The latter lets you go, and you get about twenty seconds to breathe before it’s Joel who drags you in, tongue sliding into your mouth and licking against yours in rhythm with his fingers inside you. He can feel you dripping down his knuckles, feel how eager and needy you are, not just for him, but for both of them.

“Such a good, obedient little thing, aren’t you?” Joel removes his fingers from you, turns your body so your back is to his chest. “You’re going to be a good girl and suck his cock now.”

If it wasn’t such a damn good idea, one that benefits him, Javi might have had a dig at Joel for calling the shots, but, well… you’ve got such soft, warm little hands, so eager as you look at him with big doe eyes as you unzip his jeans, pull his hard cock out and stroke it gently.

He hadn’t been so sure about getting you on your knees on a bed between the two of them, but well…

“You just want her pussy first.” He says it anyway, rolling his eyes at Joel.

You bat your eyes at Javi as you settle into a comfortable position, on your knees, your ass pressed against Joel, flick your tongue out to give the tip of his cock a tiny lick.

“We both know you like fucking me when I’m full of his cum.”

He’s not even going to protest that. There’s something immensely filthy about it, about sliding his cock into your tight little cunt after Joel’s used you, fucking a mixture of all three of you deep into you.

Besides the point, you choose that moment to wrap your soft, soft lips around his cock, taking his entire length into your throat, humming softly at the taste of him.

Behind you, Joel strokes himself slowly, watches you for a moment. Waits until you’ve pulled back, teasing the other man by sucking just the tip of his cock to line himself up with your dripping cunt and slam in to the hilt.

The momentum pushes you forward, forcing you to take far more of Javi’s length into your throat than you were prepared for, but to your credit, you don’t choke.

“That wasn’t very nice.” Javi smirks, dark eyes glittering with sadistic amusement as he surveys Joel.

“Fuck off.” The older man rolls his eyes, rough hands on your hips, holding you in place. “She can take it.”

You feel a surge of pride at that, at how well Joel knows your limits, knows what you can handle. He’ll never admit it, but a small part of him cares about you, beyond the physical and sexual aspects of things.

He starts to move properly, drilling his thick cock deep into you, letting the force of his thrusts push you forward, helping you take Javi deeper into your throat, drawing groans from both men.

It’s beyond empowering, knowing that you’re responsible for this, for the sounds they’re making, for the way you can feel Javi’s thigh shaking as you suck on him.

Joel doesn’t relent, not for a moment, slamming into you hard and fast, making you scream around Javi’s cock, knees shaking. Joel’s hands on your waist hold you up, but eventually Javi has to place your hands on his hips to give you something to hold onto.

They’re both rough, relentless, and you love it, feeling every inch of both of them, every slap Joel lays to your ass as he slams into you. He won’t last much longer, he knows this much. You’re too tight, too wet and needy for him, and the sight of you drooling over his rival’s cock is doing… questionable things to him.

Even worse - better? - when you tighten around him, moaning around Javi, cunt soaking his cock drilling into you, giving him more ability to get deeper and deeper inside you, fucking you through the intensity of your release.

He’s close and he knows it. He knows it, you know it, and so does Javi.

“Gonna cum in her already, old man? Can’t say I blame you, she has the tightest cunt I’ve ever seen, but damn.” He’s lazy in his taunting, in the way he’s rocking his hips into your throat, enjoying the way you work your tongue around him, the way your doe eyes are watching him, half rolled back from the feeling of Joel fucking into you.

“Thought I told you to shut the fuck up.” Joel almost growls it, but he doesn’t argue beyond that. He’s too close, you’re too tight, tiny little cunt milking his cock like you were made for it.

Leaning down over you, he pulls you up, away from Javi, crushes your back against his chest as he slams into you, grinding in deep and staying there.

“Such a good fucking girl, so fucking tight for me, such a sweet little pussy, gonna fill you up so good…”

It’s a string of filth that trails off into senseless growls as he slams you down onto his cock, drags another orgasm out of you as he holds you in place as he fills you, hot thick ropes deep into your aching, fluttering cunt.

He stays there for a moment, wants to be selfish, but it’s not all about him. He wants to see you overstimulated, sobbing and begging and needy for the both of them. Still, he’s a little reluctant to release his hold on you, pull out of your heat, idly watching as some of his release drips out of you onto the bed.

Joel likes you on all fours, or riding him, but Javi is the opposite. He likes you pressed beneath him, likes the feel of you under him. Once Joel releases you, he pulls you against his chest, kisses you again before dragging your legs out from under you, pinning your body beneath his.

You don’t even get a chance to react, not really, breath leaving your lungs as he nudges your thighs open with his knee, tosses one leg up over his shoulder before he slams into you, every inch of him sliding in at once, made easier by the slickness of your need and Joel’s cum.

He’s big, and it should hurt, but you’re so wet and needy that it doesn’t, barely stings. The position he has you in isn’t particularly comfortable, but it lets him get deep, lets him lean down and devour your mouth in hungry kisses whenever he feels like it, which is often.

You won’t admit it, but you love how he has such a fixation on kissing you, on nipping at your lips. He doesn’t need you to admit it; he can see it in your eyes, feel it in the way you kiss him back, hook your free leg around his waist as he pounds into you.

Joel lazes back on the bed, watches you with mild interest. You’re so responsive to both of them, but in different way. That’s almost reassuring. That you don’t respond to them both in the same way. That there’s a difference. He doesn’t know why it calms him, makes him less jealous, but it does. He knows how you are with him, and that’s good enough.

Instead he reaches out to stroke your hair, caressing softly as Javi drags his cock out of you, slams back in, over and over until you’re delirious from the pleasure of it, cunt tightening around him.

“That’s it, querida, take it,” Javi soothes you as he drills into you, fucking you hard and fast, sitting up, tossing your other leg over his other shoulder, getting rougher, more erratic.

Joel leans in, kisses you to muffle your screams as you tighten, pulse around the cock buried in your cunt. Your release is what drives Javi straight into his own, over the edge, hands on your waist tight enough to bruise.

“Fuck, baby, so fucking good…” his hips piston against yours, burying himself to the hilt and staying there; you’re so over sensitive you can feel every inch of his cock throbbing inside you as he fills you, adding his own release to the mix inside you, overflowing, dripping out down his cock onto the sheets.

You’re an absolute mess. Beyond a mess. Shaking, trembling on the bed, back arching as you try to recover. Javi gives you a moment, trying to breathe himself, before he pulls out of you, admires the mess he’s made. Joel shifts to take his place, pulling you gently against him, your head in his lap.

“Fuck, should take a picture.” He mutters to himself, surveying you a bit longer before he rolls off the bed, zips his jeans up.

“Won’t stop you.” You answer sleepily.

“You might not, but he will.” Javi nods over at Joel, who’s still idly playing with your hair, having already fixed his own pants a while back. “Ain’t that right?”

“That’s right.” Joel runs his hand along your side possessively; the game is over now, and he’s no longer interested in sharing you. He tolerates this because you want it, but he has no interest in letting Javi get cocky.

“Didn’t think so.” Javi grins, loops his coat over his shoulder, digs a packet of cigarettes out the pocket and lights one. You watch him, still dazed, as he slides his shoes back on, cigarette dangling from his lips.

He crosses back to the bed, drops the end of the cigarette into the ashtray on the side table, then leans down to kiss your forehead. Mostly to piss Joel off, but also because he wants to.

“I’ll catch you around, Miller.” He crosses the room, to the door, turns back to give you a brief fleeting look before he’s gone, closing the door behind him, leaving you nestled in Joel’s arms, and any resentment he may have about that with you.

#my writing #Joel Miller #Javier Pena #Joel Miller x Reader #Javier Pena x Reader #Joel Miller smut #Javier Pena smut #mafia!joel #corrupt!javi #mafia au #the last of us #narcos #the last of us fic #Joel Miller fic #Javier Pena fic

[cloudy-em]

Hi, that's me again😅

So... my other idea for Lip is: (again with relatively shy reader, because I love the thrope a lot) the reader and Lip are already in a relationship, one day someone teases her a little too much on the sexual theme (they haven't had sex yet so she's a bit insecure about it) he notices, he defends her, and once they're alone he starts to joke around, teases her in a sweet way, to make her feel more comfortable to talk about it. (She is not a virgin, she's just not that experienced)

Hope you like this one, if not. It's okay, I promise😂

another great idea! <3

personally i don't celebrate thanksgiving but i remember an episode from one of the earlier seasons of them doing a thanksgiving meal which is very convenient for this so it's loosely based on that

warnings: sexual comments, innuendos, Mickey's kinda being an ass but his comments aren't ill-intended

xxxxxxxxxx

The Gallagher household was bustling with activity. Fiona and V were in the kitchen, finishing up some last minute food preparations while Kevin was entertaining Carl and some of his friends in the yard with games. Ian was fixing drinks for everyone, desperately trying to find Debbie to figure out what she wanted (she was in her room, Mandy braiding her hair for her so she could impress Little Hank). Lip was finishing up a project for some sophomore who'd offered to pay him $100, and Liam was sitting patiently in his high chair. Y/N did her best to help out by setting the table, ensuring there were enough chairs and that everyone had all the proper utensils.

Mickey walked in the front door, beer in hand and flopped down, watching as Y/N reached across to the other side of the table to put a fork next to the plate. Mickey whistled like a boy in a 60s tv show.

"Damn, I bet you're used to that position," he quipped, taking another swig or his beer. Y/N looked at him, furrowing her eyebrows.

Mickey shrugged. "You know, cause I'm sure Philip bends you over pretty often." Y/N realized his implications, blushing and looking away. Mickey laughed, much more comfortable on the subject of sex than she was. "I'm sure Fiona's had to schedule time out of the house with the rest of the kids just to give you two some 'alone time'!"

Y/N grew increasingly uncomfortable. She wasn't a virgin or a puritan, but she and Lip hadn't had sex yet. They hadn't had a conversation about it or anything, but she wanted to wait a while and Lip had never brought it up with her.

Mickey laughed, "Look, kid, don't have to hide anything, we've all walked in on Lip with one of his hookups before." He paused for dramatic effect.

"Besides, it's always the shy one's who are the kinkiest!"

Y/N looked away, trying not to pay him any more mind and focus on her task. Lip walked down the stairs having finished with the sophomore's project, and immediately noticed something was off. His girlfriend was shy, sure, but she never bowed her head as low as she had.

"Hey, Lip!" Mickey called, teasing. Lip looked at him, eyebrows raised in expectation. "Maybe you should go out back and have quickie with your girl, get 'er to stop bein' such a priss." Lip realized what was wrong, walking over to his blushing girlfriend and placing his arm around her waist.

"Fuck off," Lip sighed. "Y/N isn't a priss, she just doesn't think the whole world needs to know about her sex life like you and Ian seem to."

Mickey raised his arms in surrender, "'Kay, fuck, Gallagher, it was all teasing, no harm meant!" He got up from his seat and went to the kitchen, presumably to grab another beer.

"C'mon, baby," Lip said softly, squeezing Y/N's waist and guiding her up to his room. He sat with her on the edge of Ian's bed, holding her hand and rubbing his calloused thumb on the back of it.

"I'm sorry he was messin' with you, baby," he whispered. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. Anything I can do for you?" He emphasized his apology by pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

"No, just," she paused, thinking about how she wanted to phrase her next sentence. "Do you ever, I don't know, feel like I'm holding you back?"

Lip had a puzzled look on his face. "Whatd'ya mean, hon?"

"Well with like, you know," she sighed, pulling her hand away from Lip to hide her face. "We haven't had sex and I feel like that's my fault." She heard him chuckle quietly, her embarrassment seeping into her soul even more.

"Baby," he cooed, wrapping his arms around her in a hug as she continued to hide her face. "It's nobody's fault. We haven't talked about it yet! That's the most important part of any relationship, and that's taken me a while to learn. I figured you'd bring it up when you were ready. I didn't want you to feel pressured."

She looked up at him, eyes wide and glazed over, on the verge of tears because of her embarrassment. "Really?" she asked.

"Really," he nodded like he had given an order to the universe.

"I thought that maybe you weren't attracted to me or that you thought I wasn't good enough," she whispered.

"Me? Not attracted to you? Aw babe!" he laughed, nose touching hers in a loving exchange. "A pretty thing like you deserves to be worshipped. When we have sex, I'm takin' my time with you."

She giggled at his compliment, rolling her eyes in disbelief.

"Oh, what you don't believe me? I've wanted to sleep with pretty girl forever, I just wanted to make sure she's ready for me," he smiled at her. The more he complimented her, easing in sex references, the more comfortable she felt on the subject. He had waited for her! He didn't think she was a prude or anything, he just had respect for her; he cared for her. She felt warmth in her chest as she processed the conversation. Lip kissed her nose briefly, helping her stand up from the bed.

"And try not to let Mickey get you down. He's just like that and assumes everyone else is comfortable talking about their sex life the way he does. I'll warn him to dial it down when he's around you, though," Lip told her, looking into her eyes to make sure she knew he was serious.

"Thanks, Lip. I love you," she told him, hugging him again.

"I love you, too, Y/N. Now, we'll talk more about us and our boundaries and moving forward later," he told her, trying to help her be more comfortable discussing sex with him. "But right now I think we've got a dinner to be at."

xxxxxx

thanks for reading! sorry about me projecting a lil bit in lip and reader's conversation lol, i just think it's really important to have these conversations with your partners and i think lip, despite being all tough and "not sappy" (but he totally is) really cares about discussing boundaries with his partner

have a great day!

#fanfic #writing #shameless #fanfiction #lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader #phillip gallagher #fiona gallagher #kevin ball #frank gallagher #ian gallagher #debbie gallagher #carl gallagher #liam gallagher #mickey milkovich #gallavich #mandy milkovich #fluff

[hoodharlow]

Erasing Myself From the Narrative

AN: Y'all remember that angsty fic I scrapped? Well I brought it back and changed it up

Requested? No

Warnings: angst, Jack being 🤨🤨🤨, OC picking herself over Jack and smut

Word Count: 5.5k words

Luna tugged on her vintage snakeskin cowgirl boots and went to her closet for her suede beige trench coat. She grabbed her phone from its charger. She ran down the stairs when she heard the doorbell. She opened the door and threw her arms around her best friend of ten years, Jack. 

"I missed you!" Luna hugged him tighter.

"I missed you too." Jack held the back of her head and his other arm was around her back, dangerously close to her ass. 

"How was LA?" She asked, pulling away from the hug.

"What I should be asking you is: how was Paris?" He grinned. 

Luna had been in Paris the last few weeks interviewing with Givenchy. She had informally worked with them before to make some designs for Jack’s tour outfits. But Matt Williams, the creative director, reached out to her personally and asked her to send in her portfolio. 

She had a passion for fashion, Bratz pun intended. Thanks to her volleyball scholarship she was able to major in it when she went to Cornell. After graduating, she didn't have much luck finding jobs, even with her experience of working with designers and with small brands through summer internships. 

"I got the job." She shrugged like it was no big deal. 

"I fucking knew you would. What does the grilf think?" He asked.

The grilf was Luna’s grandmother. She was raised by her grandmother (and grandpa until he passed away a few years back) because her mom was a flight attendant and traveled a lot for work. Luna was a splitting image of her grandma from when she was in her twenties. Now at sixty, she looked just beautiful.  

Jack would joke that if he was her grandma's age, he would have been able to pull her. But her abuela was never moved by his charisma and laughed in his face when he would try to flirt with her. She would tell him to go for someone closer to his age range: ei. Luna. 

"I was going to tell her but I wanted to tell her in person. I was jet-lagged and slept the whole day. When I woke up, I found a note saying that she went to her book club." She explained. 

For a woman in her early sixties, Abuela had a more active social calendar than Luna. Luna had friends, but she was just very cautious of her actions and didn't do anything that could lead to any life altering consequence. Unlike her mom who did whatever she wanted with no second thought, which was how she had Luna as a high school sophomore. Luna saw what being careless could do and she did everything in her power to now get caught up in any mess. So she stayed to herself as much as possible, didn't partake in drinking or smoking like some of her friends, or had one night stands. She had her hookup, Jason Peralta, but that was as laid back as she got. She was the mom-friend of the group. The one who made all her friends send their locations and did multiple rounds when they would go out to make sure no one left. 

"I found out before the grilf? Wow, I feel honored." Jack grinned. 

"Don't, you just happened to be here." Luna shrugged.

"Man, fuck you. I'm leaving you and watching the new M. Night Shyamalan movie by myself." He frowned.

"That's fine, I'll hit up Jason." She pulled out her phone, waiting for him to call her bluff.

She wasn’t going to hit him up. If anything, she was going to just bury herself under blankets and  eat the whole pot of albondigas Abuela made while watching some Channing Tatum movies. Jason had called her earlier to see if she wanted to come over but she said no because she was meeting up with Jack. 

Jason and Luna have been on and off friends with benefits since she moved back to Louisville. Whenever they were off it was because he got to know some girl but it never worked out with his schedule. Jason played for Louisville FC and was constantly traveling which was why his agreement with Luna worked so well. They knew what they had was purely physical and if they didn’t know each other the way they did, they would have become a couple, but it never worked out. Sure they would go on an occasional date but there was an underlying agreement that it wasn’t going to develop into something serious. Another reason why it could never work out was because Luna had feelings for Jack.

Though she knew better than to act on her feelings. In the last ten years Jack never gave her a second glance. Luna was just one of the guys. She was his friend, his confidant. The one that helped him get the girl, never the girl. 

“Anyways,” Jack cut her off thoughts, “we should get going because I need to stop for gas. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” Luna nodded. 

She grabbed her mini leather bag that matched her suede trench coat. She checked that her essentials: spare cash, lip gloss, chapstick, hair ties, gum and tampons were in her bag. She swiped her keys from the large bowl by the small table by the front door and made her way outside with Jack. She locked the house and texted Abuela that she had left and would call her later. 

Jack opened the passenger door for her. He averted his gaze away from her ass when she removed her coat before climbing on. Her skirt rode up her thighs, revealing her long toned legs. Jack closed the door and went to his side. When he opened the door, he found Luna’s ass in the air as she put her things in the backseat. Her cropped knitted sweater fell down, showing off her lavender and it took everything in Jack to not ask her if her panties matched her bra. 

“All set?” he asked when sat back on her seat. 

“Yeah,” she nodded, connecting her phone to his car. 

Jack drove to Costco to fill up his car. He pulled on his hoodie and covered his face while he waited outside his car as the gas filled up. He was typing away on his phone. She figured he was making sure everything for his and Urban’s birthday party was set. Though she didn’t miss the soft smile he had as he shook his head and typed some more. Luna felt a twinge of unease in her stomach but pushed it aside. Nothing could ruin her night with Jack.

*

Luna choked on her wine, trying her best not to laugh so hard at the story Jack was telling her of him and Clay at one of his rec soccer games. They went to eat dinner after their movie. Jack called in earlier and booked them a private room. He didn’t want the other nosy guests to film them for Luna’s privacy. He rarely posted her when he hung out with his friends because his fans always turned one post into the most elaborate conspiracy theory. He just wanted Luna to himself. He didn’t see his life without her and he would protect her with his whole being. 

Their server came by with the check. Luna reached for it, but Jack swatted her hand away. He put a few hundred bills on the leather folder and placed it on the edge of the table. 

“When are you leaving to paris?” Jack asked her, sipping his water.

“April, I have a few weeks to figure out my living situation. But Matt wants me in Paris as soon as possible so we can get started on the Spring/Summer show in June.” She said before eating some more tiramisu.

“So you won’t be here for the Derby?” he asked, almost pissed. He tightly gripped his cloth napkin, his already white knuckles turning Casper white. 

“One, relax, and two, no I won’t be there for the Derby. I can maybe try to be home but I don’t know.” Luna smoothed out his hand. 

“Sorry, I just wanted you here because I’m dropping my album around that time.” He said.

“You already finished your album? Oh my god, that’s insane.” 

She knew he’d been working on his album for a while. When she visited him on tour to get some outfits fitted for him, she could tell he was going through it. After one of his shows in Denver, he practically broke down in his hotel room and told her how exhausted and burnt out he felt. But he had to push himself because he knew he had a lot of people counting on him and he couldn’t let them down. They put a lot of faith in him since the start of his career and he was eternally  grateful for their support. Luna was the one to convince him to get back into writing for the sake of writing not for work. Little by little he built an album 

“I have a few songs that need to be finalized and trimmed but it’s done. The label is aiming for a late April release.” 

“That’s exciting. Are you going to do a mini CD signing tour like you did with the last album?” she asked, finishing her glass of chardonnay.

“Nah, I’m thinking of just letting this one speak for itself.” 

“Well I better get my own signed CD.” 

“Of course you are, I can’t break tradition,” he grinned.

They finished their desserts and made their way back to his car. Jack had his arm over her shoulders and Luna wrapped her arm around his back. Once in his car, Jack connected his phone and played her a few of his songs from his album. The one that stuck out to her the most was Blame on Me. She’d seen first hand the dynamics between his brother and dad but she never expected him to write a full song about it. But he did it in the most beautiful way. She was an only child that didn’t meet her dad and was raised by her grandparents. Despite that she was able to relate to it. That’s what she loved about Jack’s song writing. No matter how corny and braggadocious or personal the songs were, there was something that was able to strike home. 

Abuela’s red Audi was parked in the driveway by the time Jack pulled up to Luna’s place. 

“Let me walk you.” Jack said, unbuckling his seat belt before she could tell him no. 

Luna nodded and followed suit. They walked up the steps. Jack stayed back one step while she was at the very top. They were of equal height. 

“I’m glad we hung out tonight. I missed you..” Luna said.

“I missed you too. We should do something again before you leave for Paris.” Jack said, pulling her into a hug. 

They hugged for what felt like an hour and pulled back a bit, still in each other’s arms. Their eyes’ met with bright smiles. ‘Now or never’, Luna thought to herself. She leaned in to him, but Jack pulled back. 

“I’m sorry Luna, but I have a girlfriend.” 

She immediately burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Those two glasses of wine…” she trailed. “I’m sorry sorry. Um, I’m gonna go inside and pretend like that didn’t happen.”

“Luna wait,” 

“Good night sir,” she said, saluting him in a terrible British accent she did when she was embarrassed and wanted to get out of a situation. “I shall see you tomorrow kind sir.” 

She entered her home without letting Jack get another word in. 

*

Luna reached in her coat and pulled out a sky blue envelope. Inside was a birthday card with a letter she wrote for Jack. She didn’t have the guts to say goodbye. She looked over to where he was. He was standing off to the side while she took pictures with her friends and they all gathered around Kathryn, his girlfriend. Even she couldn’t deny that they looked good together. According to Urban she was one of the daughters of the co-founders of the label Jack was signed to. They’ve been seeing each other for a few months so it was still pretty new. 

Though what Luna couldn't wrap around her head was that he never mentioned Kathryn in their three hour long facetime calls. If she knew she would have kept her distance and not acted as impulsive as she did the night before. 

But now knowing this made leaving for Paris much easier. After her embarrassing almost-kiss, she spent the better half of the night looking for flights to Paris. She spoke to her grandma, leaving out the kiss, and they were leaving at night to New York since there weren’t any direct flights from Louisville to Paris. Abuela was joining her for the week so they could go apartment hunting so she could get settled as soon as possible. 

“Hey I didn’t think you’d show.” Clay said, pulling her into a hug. 

“I just came by to say hi.” she told him. 

“You’re not staying?” he frowned. 

“I’m needed in Paris and I have to leave tonight.” She looked at the envelope. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course.” He nodded.

“Give this to Jack later.” Luna handed him the envelope. 

“You can give it to him now. He’s around here.” Clay looked sound for his brother. He caught Jack’s gaze and waved him over. He was aware of the feelings she had for Jack. “You should–”

“I’m in a rush.” She put the envelope in his hands. She gave him a tight hug. “Thank you.”

Luna squeezed his shoulder and grabbed her coat. She passed Jack and didn’t give him a second glance as she exited the venue. 

Jack frowned and began to walk in her direction, but he was stopped by some friends and pulled to the photobooth. When he finally pulled away to go to the parking lot, Luna was gone. He went back inside, going straight to Clay. 

“Why didn’t Luna stay?” he asked his brother. 

“She had to go.” 

“Go where?” 

“Paris, she was called to leave sooner.” 

“Fuck,” Jack pushed back his curls. He pulled out his phone and called her so he could at least meet her at the airport to say goodbye. 

He’d been so busy, caught up with making sure Kathryn was comfortable that he didn’t know when Luna arrived. He wasn’t sure if she’d come after their almost kiss. An almost kiss that happened at the most inopportune time. If he was being honest, years ago he’d used to think it would be him and Luna that would have gotten together. But he could never bring himself to share his feelings for her. Mostly out of fear that she didn’t feel the same. He would rather spend a lifetime having her as his best friend instead of losing for the rest of his life. 

“What the hell?” he said to himself when the call didn’t go through. He tried again and the same thing happened. He looked at Clay and in a panicked voice he asked, “Can you call her? I think I have spotty service.” 

“Babe, Neelam said it’s time to cut the cake.” Kathryn said, walking over.

“Can you tell her to wait five minutes? I’m trying to–”

She cut him off with her nose turned upward. “Jack, your friends are getting a bit rowdy. Let’s do it now, yeah?” 

“Fine,” he gave in. He looked at Clay before walking towards the cake and gave him a pleading look to try to get a hold of Luna.

Clay nodded and texted Luna. She replied almost instantly and told him to tell Jack to leave her alone. He cursed, unsure how to tell his big brother that without breaking his heart. Luckily Jack’s coat was draped over a chair. He slipped in Luna’s envelope in the inside pocket and went to his brother, ready with a lie about how he had shitty service too.

* June * 

“How many other secrets were you hiding from me Kathryn?” Jack asked too calmly for someone who just overheard their now ex-girlfriend say she tried to baby trap him because she got financially cut off from her dad. 

“Jack–”

“Do you really think I was that stupid to fall for your shit? I’m sorry you’re not fucking responsible and got cut off by your dad, but you won’t use me for your bullshit. Please get your shit, leave my key and never fucking contact me ever again.” he said.

“When my dad finds out–”

“The same dad that cut you off because you spent your trust fund on partying? Yeah go ahead and call him. I was just on the phone with him and he also heard what I heard.” he crossed his arms.

“Fuck you!” she stormed off to their room.

She had moved in two weeks ago to his apartment in Atlanta and was barely settling in so it didn’t take long for her to pack up. A few minutes later she came back to the living room with her things. In her hand was a blue envelope. 

“Here, I found it in your jacket the night of your birthday party.” She said, handing it to him.

Kathryn left without another word. Jack made a call to the lobby and had her removed from the list of people that could be taken up to his penthouse. He then blocked her number and removed her from social media. While he packed for his Europe work trip while he went through all protocols about the break up with Neelam and had her make sure all NDAs were signed. 

Once he was done packing and Jack tore the envelope from the side and carefully took out the birthday card. He recognized Luna’s loopy writing. He began reading:

Jack there’s no easy way of saying this, but I’m in love with you. I have been for years. I don’t know when or how, but I am. And because of that, I’m leaving Louisville. I can’t be in the same place you are knowing I can’t be with you. I think it’s best if we end whatever friendship we have here. 

I need time to figure out who I am. I can’t keep seeing myself as the girl who’s pining over her best friend when you’re in a relationship.despite how I feel about you, I’m happy you found someone who you can love that same way I wished you loved me. 

Thank you for all these years of friendship. I’m sorry this is how I said goodbye, but it’s for the best.

-Luna 

Jack turned the paper around to see if there was more. He checked the envelope. The only other thing inside was her half of the strip of pictures they took in a photobooth a few years back. He kept his other half in his wallet. He used to keep it tucked in his phone case, but when he started dating Kathryn, he switched it to his wallet. 

He ran his thumb over Luna. He hadn’t seen her in almost four months and they felt like hell. He’d been in Boston for a few weeks filming a new project. He put himself into work. When he wasn’t working on music, he was filming something.. 

He hadn’t seen or heard from Luna since she left. She stayed true to her word and never contacted him. She blocked him on all social media. He’d even visited Abuela to ask about her but she always gave him vague answers about her whereabouts. All he knew was that she was in Paris, but he didn’t know how she was or if she liked the city. Well he knew she liked the city. 

The first time they had gone was on a class trip in eleventh grade and snuck out to see the city. He still remembered how in awe she was at the lights and how lively the people were. That was when he realized he had feelings for her, but he was too scared to act on them. More than anything he wanted Luna in his life and he didn’t want to risk anything. So for years he kept that to himself. He felt like an absolute idiot for not seeing that Luna felt the same. 

“Is this some fucked up joke?” He said to himself, crumbling up the letter. 

He sat down on the couch and rubbed his face in frustration. He couldn't believe he’d been so blind to see who he wanted the whole time had also felt the same about him. He made an incredibly big mistake and now he had to face the consequences of it. 

*

Jack’s knee couldn’t stop bouncing his knee as he and Urban approached the Givenchy after party. They had attended the show just a few hours ago, but were invited to the dinner and after party. His team was able to get him and Urban seats at the last minute. He’d been in Cannes the last few days for work and performances so he hadn’t had a chance to see Luna. 

He thought he was going to see her when he was getting his fittings, but she was working on a different floor. Then when he sat next to her grandmother at the fashion show, he thought she was going to approach them, but she didn’t. She walked out with Matt and everyone else that helped with the collection. She waved and turned on her heel to go back backstage. He hoped to see her at the dinner but she spent the whole time showing off her grandmother. He had low expectations of seeing her in the club because she was a homebody. If anything he would make up some excuse to go to the Givenchy house the next day. 

Jack had been at the club for less than five minutes and he felt exhausted and drained. He excused himself and went down to the bar to order sparkling water with cranberry and pineapple juice. There were three bartenders at the bar. Two of which were hard working, getting drinks out as fast as they could while the one next to Jack was busy flirting with a red head. Jack rolled his eyes and sat back waiting until the crowd lessened. 

A hand smacked down on the bar close to the bartender. “There’s a million people waiting for their drinks. If you could get your dick out of your brain for three seconds and make them that would be fucking great.” 

Jack recognized that voice.

“Luna?” 

She turned over and her face paled. 

“Um, hi.” she said.

Jack frowned. “Hi? That’s all you have to say after I haven't heard from you in months?” 

“This is not the place.” Luna said, not looking at him. 

“Babe, I told you to wait for me.” someone said. 

A tall guy with dark brown skin wrapped his arm around Luna’s shoulders. He gave Jack a once over, unimpressed. 

“Dominic, relax. I know him.” Luna shrugged her arm off him. 

“Oh than fuck, I used up my straight voice with Vivi.” Dominic said in a more salacious voice. He nodded his head at Jack. “So who’s this?”

“An old friend from Louisville.” she answered vaguely. 

“Right.” Jack’s jaw clenched. 

Without another word he got up and went back to Urban, who was with a group of models that hung to his every word. 

“Um wow, you were rude. What’s the drama there? Clearly y’all weren’t just friends.” Dominic prodded. 

Luna pretended she didn’t hear him and her eyes followed Jack. He waved to a few women who called his name as he went up the steps to the VIP section. He leaned over to Urban and whispered in his ear. They bro hugged and Jack was going back down the steps. 

“Tell Vivi, I’m not feeling well and called an Uber.” she told Dominic. 

She didn’t wait for a response. She gave him a side hug and trailed after Jack. 

“Jack, wait!” she yelled when they were outside. 

He turned around. “What, Luna?” he snapped.

“I’m sorry.” she said quietly. 

“For what exactly? For dismissing me to your friend like I’m nothing? Like this hasn’t been the worst few months of my life because you left?” He went off.

“YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND JACK!” She waved her arms angrily. “What was I supposed to do? Watch you live your life with your girlfriend while I still pine for you? I needed to be away for my own sake and sanity.” 

“We broke up.” Jack revealed. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“If I had known sooner that I had a chance I would have acted on it, Luna.” 

Before she could ask him what he meant, he captured her lips with his. The kiss was slow like a test in the waters. Lust quickly took over as their kiss intensified. He held her in place with his other arm as his lips dominated her. Luna whimpered into his mouth when Jack deepened the kiss. They pulled away, breathless, Luna realized they somehow ended up back at Jack’s hotel suite. 

“I fucking love you, Luna.” Jack murmured against her lips.

“I love you too, Jack.” She smiled.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that.”  

“Me too.” 

With that Luna pulled Jack into another deep kiss. Without breaking their kiss, he grabbed the back of her thighs and picked her up. He carried her down the hall to his room. Jack tossed Luna on the bed and slipped off his jacket and kicked off his shoes. Luna reached over and unzipped her leather calf length boots, a birthday present from Jack when he first earned his first big royalties check, and placed them on the floor. 

He crawled on top of her and gently pulled her chin, bringing her lips to his. One of her hands found its way to Jack’s curls while the other dug its nails onto his back. She moaned out into his mouth, feeling his hips rut against her core. She shifted around so her legs were more open for him to move more comfortably. They continued to kiss as their hips kept moving in sync with each other.

“Wait.” she pushed him off her.

“Are we moving too fast? I’m sorry–”

“No, I have to check in with my grandma so she doesn’t think I got kidnapped like in that one Liam Neeson movie.” 

She went to the living room part of his suite where they discarded their jackets and her bag. She quickly sent her grandmother a text that she was catching up with Jack and that she won’t be home until the morning. Abuela replied instantly with a ‘finally’ and a ‘use condoms’. She rolled her eyes and joined Jack in bed. 

Jack gave her a chaste kiss on the lips and returned to kissing down to her chest. He pushed up her dress until it was off of her, revealing her breasts to him. He tweaked one of her nipples while he nipped and sucked her other breast. Satisfied with the love bites on her chest, he kissed down her stomach to the band of her panties. 

Luna cleared her throat making him look up at her. “You’re clean right? I don’t have condoms, but I’m on the IUD.” she asked. 

“Yeah, I haven’t been with anyone since Kathryn.”

After their break up, he got tested and came out clean.

“Okay cool.” Luna nodded. 

Jack sat back on his knees and pushed her legs open. Her arousal glistened through the lace of her panties. Luna lifted her hips, so he could remove her panties. He slowly pulled them off and tossed them to the side then climbed back in bed. He licked his lips and placed her legs over his shoulders. 

Shamelessly, he spit on her clit and sucked it, making her moan. Then he wiggled his tongue at her entrance. He moaned out at her taste. It was taking everything in him not to ravish her. He took his time with her, savoring her. Minutes passed when he finally slid his middle and ring finger in her. She gasped at his touch. Her hands tangled in his hair pulling it for relief.

“Fuck!” She moaned out. He sped up his fingers then he slipped them out of her and rubbed her clit, bringing her to her climax. 

“Jack!” She repeated his name over and over as she came. Jack licked her release and laid back next to her. Luna rolled over and placed her leg over his waist. 

“I love you.” She said softly. She stretched over to kiss him. 

“I love you too, Luna.” he mumbled against her lips.

Jack pushed her hips so she was directly on top of his crotch. They kissed for what seemed like hours. Teasing touches here and there, only to end up wrapped up in each other’s arms. Jack was hugging her back while Luna placed her hands on his chest. She slowly moved her hips against him. 

“I always knew our first time would be with you on top.” Jack commentted. 

“You’re so fucking corny.” Luna laughed, covering her mouth. 

Jack pulled her hand away and sat up so he could kiss her properly. Luna reached between them and slowly stroked Jack. Then she lifted her hips, lining herself over his cock. She slowly slid all the way down his length. She moaned out at how good Jack felt inside her. She rocked her hips against him, getting used to him. She slowly bounced herself up and down while continuing to rock her hips against his. He sat up and brought her closer to him. Luna’s arms tightened around his neck. Jack bucked his hips upwards to meet her thrusts and she let out a soft moan.

“Feel so good, Jack.” she whimpered.. 

Her orgasm came out of nowhere. She clung to Jack as she continued to ride him. He still kept thrusting into her through her orgasm. But he slowed down, letting her come back from orgasm only to take her once more. 

“Want you to finish in my mouth, Jack.” Luna said, pushing back his sweaty curls. 

“Yeah, whatever you say.” 

Luna playfully rolled her eyes and shifted her body so she laid horizontally. She spit on his length and slowly jerked him off with both hands. She slipped him as far as she could take him. He let out an incoherent sound until she reached the back of her throat. She did it a few more times, egging him on. 

She pulled away, with a trail of saliva spilling from the corner of her mouth, and kissed down his length. Luna slowly bobbed her head up and down his length, getting her mouth used to him. She took him a little deeper each time. One of his hands gripped the back of her head, keeping her in place as he thrusted into her mouth. Luna let out soft moans. Her hands gripped his legs, nails digging into his thighs. She continued to stroke him as he came, taking all of his release. She cleaned him up and cuddled next to him.

“So we did that…” Luna trailed off after a few moments of silence.

Jack pushed himself up against the headboard. “Do you regret it?” 

“Do you?” She asked.

“Fuck no.” 

“Okay, good.” She giggled. The bed sheet covering Jack’s waist caught her attention. There was a large tent shape formed. “Already? It wasn’t even five minutes.”

“My dick can’t help that you’re finally naked with me and not a figment of my imagination.” 

“I guess we should do something about that.”

“We should.” 

Jack gently pushed her back on the bed. They slowly kissed, having all the time of the world. Unbeknownst to them was that Urban had entered his suite and was going to give Jack some information about Luna that he acquired. He unlocked the door separating his suite and Jack’s. 

“Yo, you better buy me some blunts with all this shit I have for you– ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Urban yelled, pulling off his soundproof headphones. 

Jack covered Luna before Urban could get a look of her face. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“What the fuck? That’s all you have to say? Here I thought my best friend was fucking heartbroken but you’re out here getting his dick wet. I went out of my way to get you some info on Luna.”

“Hi Urb.” Luna sat up, covering her chest. 

Urban took in the scene in front of him. “Nevermind. I’ll let y’all continue. Pardon me for interrupting.” 

He put on his headphones and went back to his suite. 

“Sorry.” Jack mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. Nothing could ever embarrass me after my grandparents walked in on me and my date for junior prom.” she said. 

“True and I didn’t get the condom stuck in your pussy like bitch ass Tristian.” Jack said.

“I completely forgot my date’s name. How do you remember?” 

“I had to keep tabs on my competition.” He shrugged. “And I won.” 

“Is that so?” She arched an eyebrow.

“You’re naked with me in Paris. I call that a win.” 

Taglist: @heavyhitterheaux @cherry4everrr ​ @carma-fanficaddict ​ @youngharleezy @youngharleezyxo ​ @babyharleezy ​ @that-90s-girllll ​ @alinaharlow @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @webinurcloset @gassyandsassy1 @jackharloww @awhore4moree @noescapricho-essentimiento @neon-lights-and-glitter @purecinnamonextract @whywontyoulovemecami @camificrecs @itsyagirljaz @w1ldthoughts @vanwritesfan-fiction @xxkoolkatxx

#jack harlow #jack harlow angst #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow fanfiction

[hotchs-big-hands]

ngl i would genuinely get off to making haley jealous and angry because of how fucking easy it is. my personal hc here but i think she was controlling and thought she had hotch wrapped around her finger and it infuriated her that his job was the only thing he refused to listen to her about. i also think she tried to baby trap him with jack in the assumption that would "fix" their marriage and when it only made it worse she blamed aaron for never being home when she easily couldve hired a nanny or regular babysitter so she could work or do whatever. i believe she cheated bc of that one phone call to their house when hotch answered and it was a random man asking for haley before hanging up and the look hotch gave her like yeah he knew she was fucking around too. i think it made her even angrier that when she filed for divorce hotch didnt even fight her onit! didnt ask to work things out or for counseling or anything. just "okay ill sign the papers when i get back from this case"

now assuming reader is mid twenties i think your very existence would have her enraged. aaron seems happier and even healthier. hes got more color in his face, hes put on some healthy weight, he smiles and laughs now, he takes more time off work, his life has clearly significantly improve since she left him and she cant fucking stand it. she thought she was the best thing that ever happened to him and now shes seeing in real time she's actually the worst thing ♥️♥️

and you thinks its funny as hell to watch a 40 year old woman with a whole ass kid be that bent out of fucking shape because the man SHE LEFT is fine without her. like yes maam i am younger than you, hotter than you, nicer than you AND i can ride the dick just right. stay pressed bitch 💕. and when she tries interfering in your relationship hotch asks you to put up with it just for a bit because he knows hack is still adjusting to coparenting and he wants the best for his son so you let him handle his exwife until she crosses a line and tries to accuse you of some shit and aaron finally puts his foot down and haley cant believe that shes really lost complete control over aaron (haha fuck you haley)

like i fantasize about a situation where haley is trying SOOOO hard to break yall up and drive a wedge between you two and it isnt until jacks birthday or some big family function aaron brought you too and haley cant help it but lowkey stalk yall all night and so youre like "aaron watch this" and you drag him off to some secluded corner and hes like ??? but you tell him "hold on baby give it a minute. bet you anything haley pops up" and then once you hear footsteps you give aaron a big fat smooch and surprise surprise!! whos coming around the corner? why its haleys stalker ass following you two like a creep!

i literally just want to cuck haleys pathetic ass because fuck her and her scraggly blonde hair and that nappy ass wig she had on in witness protection with her no-style-no-personality-all-about-me havin ass 😒😒😒😒

sorry this is such a convoluted mess i just hate that lady 😭😭

I NEEDN'T SAY MORE THIS IS EXACTLY MY THOTS I WANT THAT WOMAN SEEEETHING AT THE SIGHT OF AARON BEING HAPPY AND THRIVING. SHE WOULD ABSOLUTELY BE THE CRAZY EX WHO PROBABLY ENDS UP HARASSING YOU.

The SECOND she says smth nasty abt you Aaron is soooooo fucking pissed. She insults you saying you're just a whore sleeping with Aaron for his money (and cuz us babes are plus-size queens she HATES THAT) and that Aaron is not attracted to you.

And Aaron OOF he takes her to one side and tells her she is fucking nothing but the mother of his child now. That YOU are his everything. YOU make him the man he is now. He's fucking happy with you as the love of his life and that Haley made him chronically stressed and depressed and almost completely ruined his self esteem. He warns her to back the fuck off from him and reader. He does not want any communication with her unless it's to do with Jack. End of.

#cutie kenzie #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #💌 ah asks #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine

[lunajay33]

New World🍂Part.11

Summary: You grew up in a crappy town with one friend who kept you going, everything started to fall into place, that’s until the world ended and the dead ruled the world, now you and your best friend Daryl Dixon had to stay alive but will you finally confess?

Warnings: This chapter contains light sh if you’re not comfortable don’t interact

Part.10

•Masterlist•

It’s been a few days since Daryl had left me to stay out god knows where with Merle, his brother who was an ass and always treated him like crap, he left and I had no more will to live, he was my anchor, I haven’t left the watch tower since I got up here I couldn’t find the effort to go down for anything

The door to the guard tower opened seeing it was Carl with Judith, coming and sitting next to me on the little makeshift bed

“Hey…..we miss you down there” he said smiling, he was such a sweet kid and ever since the incident with Lori he’s kind of clung to me but I didn’t hate it

“I’m fine here”

“Well I brought you some water and some cans of food” he said taking his back pack off and handing it over

“Thank you sweetie, sorry I’m not of any help right now, it’s hard to explain this feeling” I said as he placed little Judith in my arms

“It’s okay, I may not get it but I know what it’s like to lose someone you love, and I know how much you loved Daryl”

“I just miss him so much, I need him back” I said feeling my chest tighten trying to keep the tears at bay as I let Judith play around with my fingers

“If you’re soulmates you’ll meet again and from what I’ve seen you are just let him see what he’s missing and he’ll come running back for you” he smiled patting my shoulder

After some play time with Judith and a little chat with Carl he left having to change her and feed her, maybe Carl was right maybe I should go down for a bit it might clear my head, I left the guard tower making sure to cover all my cuts and saw Carol and the prisoner talking

“Hey y/n it’s good to see you” she said with that bright smile of hers

I just smiled and nodded still not feeling like my old self, the me that felt whole with Daryl, before the apocalypse I never was reliant on him like I am now but he’s still the man I love the man I’ve always loved, I can’t just bounce back to normal without the person I’ve had in my life since I was a kid

I wandered around the courtyard, picking up some stray garbage helping to clean up the place when there was a gun shot, I looked around frantic seeing Axel dead on the ground Carol hiding behind his body as more guns went off

I ran to go back to the watch tower hoping to get some cover but the distance was further than I thought and I didn’t know where the shots were coming from so I didn’t know if I was covered and that was quickly proven when that familiar feeling of stinging warmth flooded my body

I fell to the ground right as I got to the watch tower dragging myself inside somehow, slumping down on the stairs looking at the blood gushing down my chest and right arm, a bullet gone right into my shoulder, the blood oozing out quickly making me lightheaded fast from my low iron

I ripped off a piece of my shirt struggling to wrap it around my shoulder and tying it off tight to help the bleeding, I laid back against the stairs feeling weak, the sound of blood pumping in my head by body exhausted

The gun fire had ceased and I heard the others outside scared trying to figuring out everything that happened

I tried to kick the door open but it was no use, my vision was starting to blur and become spotty

Daryl’s POV

“Where’s y/n?” I asked looking around not seeing her Carol or T.dog

“Last I saw she was trying to run back to the watch tower she’s been staying in” Carl said pointing over to the tower me and her always stayed in on our turns

“Damn” I grunted running across the court, Carl and Maggie right behind me as I yanked the door open, the sight making my heart stop

Normal POV

Voices around me, faces blurred but the closer it got the more I knew it was Daryl as I was gently picked up

“D….Daryl” I spluttered out

“I’m here sunshine”

Then everything went black

Daryl’s POV

I ran with her in my arms to the cell block laying her down next to Hershel as he yelled for the others to get his supplies

“Will she be okay?” I asked focusing on all the blood covering her, I should have never left why the hell did I leave

“We gotta stop the bleeding, with her being anemic she’s gonna have a harder time lasting with all this blood lose but I’ll do all I can” he said as he pressed down hard, after it stopped he pulled out the bullet stitched her up and sterilized it then bandaging her wound

“She’s bleeding on her leg too” he said noticed blood that had seeped through her jeans, I was hesitant but her health was more important so I pulled her jeans down enough for us to see what was causing the bleeding here and it finally broke me because this was my fault and I knew it, Hershel looked at me with worried eyes then went to clean them

I moved her to our bed on the perch and waited for her to wake up, hoping she woke up, I can’t believe this happened to her again in the span of a year, shot twice my sunshine the girl who’s stuck by me always making sure I was okay and now I’m the reason she hurt herself, the reason I wasn’t here to protect her

I gently peeled her out of her blood soaked clothes and put her in a spare shirt of mine and some looser jean shorts that covered her cuts, I found a clean rag and a bucket of water and cleaned off her face and any dirt that had accumulated on her body

I hope she come back to me soon

Normal POV

My head was pounding and everything was so bright and hazy

“Fuck” I groaned trying to cover my eyes but shoot pain through my shoulder

“Hey yer awake” I heard from beside me, I tried to focus and his face came into view, it was Daryl

“Am I dead? Or did you come back” I asked running my hand on his scruffy face

“ ‘m back I shoulda never left” he said filled with guilt

“Why would you go Daryl, I’ve always been there………you promised”

Part.12

Will y/n forgive Daryl or will she be scared he’ll hurt her again

Taglist: @deansapplepie @ghostboneswrites2 @willowshadenox @thebadbatch2022 @writer-ann-artist @i-wear-wet-socks313

#twd fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl dixon #twd x reader #twd fluff #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon series #the walking dead series

[blues824]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa do you watch vtubers? i saw the requests were open and was gonna request housewardens with a reader like vox akuma but i was hesitant because i didn't know if you watched vtubers or not. twst and nijisanji(en) are my big hyperfixations rn and I put vox's streams on in the background while im playing. (you don't need to watch vox's streams to get his persona down if you wanna do this request actually. watching 'the vox akuma experience' on youtube would be enough ;-;)

I do watch VTubers! Ninomae ina’nis was the first one I’ve watched since I had a request a while back, and that brought me into the world of Vtubers. Gender-neutral reader.

Riddle Rosehearts

When he heard that you were a voice demon, he thought you were something akin to a siren, but in demon form. He appreciated how you dressed very formally, and how you remained polite in all of your interactions.

Then you started getting comfortable with being in Twisted Wonderland. That’s when you busted out the lewd and crass jokes, the flirty comments, etc. and he was just so freaking flustered all of the time. You even once got close to his ear and said that his shoelace wasn’t tied in a very seductive manner just to mess with him.

He would’ve collared you by now if you weren’t a demon who could easily overpower him. You had battle experience that he has only read of, so you were nearly indestructible. You never took your amusement too far, though. After all, you didn’t want your beloved queen to get too angry.

You and Trey team up to make meals for Heartslabyul. Riddle tries to help you both (because he’s jealous whenever you two hang out by yourselves in the kitchen), and he’s not all that bad. You don’t play pranks on him like the Vice Housewarden. The Housewarden absolutely loves every type of food you make.

Leona Kingscholar

At first appearance, he thought you had a stick up your ass. I mean, you had a very formal way of speaking, plus you dressed in a suit every single day. However, he eventually found out that you were the exact opposite person he thought you were.

You both got to a point that you flirted with each other more than you just casually talked to each other. One thing that became apparent was that you both were very competitive in charm and seduction and would always try to make each other flustered.

He doesn’t mind the fact that you are a demon, as long as you don’t do anything that annoys him or disrupts the productivity of his dormitory. The chances of that happening are very slim because you’re usually napping with him.

He loves the dishes you cook for him, even if it contains vegetables. You somehow make the veggies taste so good that his mouth waters when he smells the food. You have essentially replaced Ruggie in the Savanaclaw kitchen with your awesome cooking.

Azul Ashengrotto

If you weren’t a voice demon, he would have tried to find a way to get you under a contract. Unfortunately, your magic was demonic and therefore not the type of magic that can be taken away like that. He also appreciated how you dressed formally no matter the occasion.

When you started bringing out the flirting and the lewd jokes, he was more flustered than he has ever been in his whole entire life. He couldn’t even imagine returning the behavior since he stuttered trying to talk to you in general.

He also doesn’t mind that you are a demon. In fact, with your permission, he uses it as a threat to other customers who don’t comply with the rules of the Lounge. It tends to scare off unwanted people, and helps profit stay stable.

Azul asked if you wanted to try cooking for the Mostro Lounge because your food was really good and could probably sell. You made gourmet food, which is much different than they originally had on their menu. So, your cooking went on a secret menu.

Kalim Al-Asim

He wasn’t wary of you at all. He thought your clothes were interesting because surely you must get hot in that suit. Then he grew worried whenever you visited Scarabia since it was always hot in the desert that was the dorm.

He absolutely had no idea what you were saying or trying to do when you were trying to flirt with him until Jamil explained it to him. That is when his face just goes completely red and he feels so dumb. He mentally beats himself up for not getting what you said at the moment you said it.

This continues and he is just so flustered all the freaking time. You were just flirting with him over and over. He eventually uses his innocent charm to compliment you and ‘flirt’ with you in return, but he always fails to make you blush. 

He wishes he could eat your food, but he doesn’t know if it is poisoned or not. So, you offer to have Jamil watch you cook so that everyone is sure you didn’t sneak anything into the meal. He is so happy, and when his Vice Housewarden gives the ‘ok’, he digs in and is in love with all the different flavors.

Vil Schoenheit 

He almost squealed in excitement when he saw how good you looked. You knew how to dress very well, you did your makeup well to accentuate your features, you were basically his dream significant other. He praised any higher being above that you walked into his life.

You both tend to flirt with each other since it proves to boost self-esteem. Everyone besides Rook gag at how lovey dovey you are. The hunter volunteers to be the flower girl at your wedding (reminds me of when Hercules Mulligan was the flower girl at Hamilton’s wedding, iykyk).

He also doesn’t mind that you are a demon. It wasn’t like you would go ballistic and slay everyone out of nowhere, so he was relaxed around you. You often play as his voice of reason with all the wisdom you’ve accumulated over the years.

You both work to promote healthier eating, and you try to cook for the dorm and have a few of the Pomefiore members help out. You refuse to cook fish since you don’t like the smell or taste, you just incorporate more of other foods to replace it and Vil is okay with it. He can tell that the entire dorm is just a bit healthier as well.

Idia Shroud

He most definitely squealed because you looked and acted like his favorite VTuber Koe Daemonium. Mans worshiped you. He considered himself as one of your kindred, and when you told him that he was your lover after a while, he nearly died of joy.

Idia gets nose-bleeds whenever you act more seductive or lewd. Ortho always thinks that he’s having a brain aneurysm and tries to perform medical aid only for you to tell him that he was just a tad flustered.

He also doesn’t mind that you are a demon, what he’s worried about is you taking a liking to someone else and leaving him for them. He is insecure and shy, so he wouldn’t be very surprised if you picked someone over him, and this worries you. So you make a vow to him to always make him feel loved.

One way you do that is you make him food, and good food at that. You were aware that he didn’t get adequate enough nutrients in his diet, so you fixed that problem for him. Idia reported feeling better than he had in a long time, and you were glad that you could be a part of the process.

Malleus Draconia

Oh, goodness. We have a demon and a dragon; in my mind, they are both very possessive creatures, and it shows with you and Malleus. You like to make sure that you both will be safe when one of you is going somewhere without the other.

He doesn’t understand what you are trying to do when you flirt or say something lewd to him, so Lilia kind of has to act as a translator. Of course, he tries his best not to get flustered when he finally understands what you were trying to say. Instead, he reciprocates your affection.

Lilia absolutely adores having chats with you. You both have past battle experience, you enjoy gaming, and you both dress well. Silver likes hanging out with you and sparring against you. Sebek absolutely despises you, and it’s mostly because you are a demon and therefore “aren’t a good example for Waka-sama”. You didn’t care, though.

Everyone became grateful for you when you took over cooking, saying that Lilia deserved a break. The old fae didn’t mind being treated by his future child-in-law, and the food you made was heavenly (get it?). Malleus makes a big deal, saying how the future co-ruler of the Briar Valley shouldn’t have to cook for anybody, but you laugh it off and say that it’s fine.

#twst #twst x reader #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #riddle #twst riddle rosehearts #twst riddle x reader #twst leona x reader #twst leona #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #twst leona kingscholar #leona #twst azul x reader #twst azul #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul #azul ashengrotto #twst azul ashengrotto #kalim x reader #kalim al asim x reader #twst kalim

[yume-yuurei]

Picture-perfect fairytale romance 2/3

Synopsis: Fairytales help tell children of all sides of human life without exposing them to real dangers. But what will happen if a child keeps their favorite story far too close to heart, projecting fantasies onto reality?

Part two, finally! I've been struggling with deciding how to approach the whole thing, but, thanks to how much time autumn holidays are giving me, I managed to finish this! Now, only one part left... I wonder if what I'm planning for it will be predictable, or maybe the hints weren't obvious enough to pick up on? (ﾉ*･ω･)ﾉ

TW for delusional Neige, some mild swearing, a little ooc. MC is gn.

He always thought the circumstances would be slightly... different.

As he watched them disappear in the woods, Neige unconsciously reached out a hand towards his beret. Words written in golden embroidery burned against skin: "Someday my princess will come".

But they are nothing like the fairytale princesses. Helplessness and dependence are not words suit for them. It may be far too soon to make assumptions, but the way that person held themselves, the light their whole body radiated should be a sure sign... "No, I'm thinking about this too much - too soon. That's what I'm always being told... I swear, I'm not desperate, just- how am I supposed to know when I'll meet my destined person? If I act nonchalant all the time, I might accidently drive them away and never even know of that." These thoughts brought a childish pout to his face, creases forming between perfectly sculptured brows - an unusual expression for the normally cheerful boy.

Still, some things don't add up to his expectations.

"Ah, but how could your heart have any place for doubt? Were it myself, I would never let my dear beloved go."

You don't even remember how much time passed after the strange encounter in the woods. Days trickled by leisurely, with no crazy adventures and, thankfully, no overblots. The only inconvenience so far was Ace getting into another quarrel with his housewarden and being collared for a week. You found out about it when the boy in question turned up on the doorstep of Ramshackle late in the evening - right when you and Grim were about to head to bed. Clad in old pajamas (found in one of the old wardrobes during sunday cleaning and thoroughly washed), you opened the door, interrupting Ace's violent knocking. Behind his back stood Deuce - nothing surprising; the two had been inseparable since the chandelier incident, it would've been weirder to see them apart - who made a show of scolding his companion for showing up there at an ungodly hour and dragging him along, but was just as excited about possibly staying over. You didn't even hear out the story behind their appearance, as the bright-red collar on Trappola's neck told enough, leaving the door open for them and walking up the stairs to retrieve three sets of blankets and pillows. Grim, having taken the hint, was already sprinting to the pantry to pick out his favorite snacks (and bring some for you, too). Ace and Deuce had made such sleepovers a habit for your group, so, without any further questions, they headed to Guest Room to move the furniture and make space.

"Can't believe you have the audacity to bother prefect every time you get in trouble..."

If the jab bothered Ace, he didn't let it show, "Shut up, Deucey. You pretend to be all righteous, but when they offer us to stay over, I never see you turning them down."

"That-! That's because I was taught it's rude to not accept invitations, especially from friends! And there should be at least someone watching over you to make sure you don't get into more trouble."

Coming from the kitchen with three empty glasses (and a small cup) in hands, you take the opportunity to interject, "You're just as bad, to be honest. If anyone's being responsible among us, that's got to be me."

The redhead scoffs with crossed arms, "Uh-huh, responsible my ass... You're only right about one thing - Deucey being a walking hazard."

You exchange more sarcastic remarks, with sleepy Grim lying stretched out across your lap, until the topic eventually switches to more menial things: clubs, teachers, fresh gossip. One particular talk makes you recall the encounter you had a few days earlier.

"And then Vil started raging when a commercial came up on some guy's phone. It was that new music video with his kidfaced arch-nemesis; He was trying to keep it cool, but I swear he almost chucked a water bottle at Rook when that creep approached him."

"Really? I did see him annoyed a few times, but for Vil, of all people, to attempt a murder in broad daylight. Who could've bothered him that much?"

"Eh, it's Neige for you, nothing new. These two have had a rivalry going on for a long time. Did you not know? Their fans have the wildest and most ridiculous discourses ever, it's kinda fun to watch."

You tear your eyes away from the ongoing game of cards, looking up at Ace with furrowed brows.

"Neige, you say...? Can you show me a photo?"

His face noticeably scrunched up, "Ew, why would you even want to look at him? He's just another one of those pretentious freaks from RoYaL SwOrDs", clear disdain and disgust in his voice switched to smugness as he leaned closer to you, almost draping himself over your shoulder, "Aren't I more handsome, hm? And, unlike that stuck-up princey, I can give you all~ the attention in the world, without any fans hogging it."

Deuce, annoyed with his friend's touchiness, grabs Ace by the collars and nearly throws him off of you, "I wonder why you don't have any fans, then. Even prefect is more popular than you are, dumbass!"

Upon noticing your unamused (and somewhat pissed off) frown, he hurries to retaliate, "That's not what I meant! You're really cool, so it's obvious you'd have some fans, but you're also new here, and you spend more time with us and not others, and I didn't-"

"I get it, you can calm down..."

"...sorry again."

A bunch of idiots, that's what they are. Still, it's hard to be mad with them, your two first and best friends here, for long. Someone shoves a phone right into your face (thankfully, without breaking your nose) just as you start going deeper into your thoughts.

It's Ace phone with Magicam open on it. Before you is a profile of a model and actor, as seen from the description. You scroll a little and open the last posted picture. True to your suspicions, it turns out to be exactly the Neige that you met after classes some time ago. Eyes lighting up in recognition, you murmur a quiet "Huh, I know him". That brings out a reaction from the other two.

They kept on pestering you, until you gave in and told them the whole story. Neither one seemed convinced. And you didn't need them to be, as long as they'd stop pestering you, they were free to believe whatever their sturdy selfish hearts desired.

"Thank you for accompanying me, prefect. I hope our joined efforts will be fruitful."

Jade smiles in his usual polite manner, fixing straps on his backpack. He leads you along the forest trail, keeping his eyes on the ground on the lookout for mushrooms, hidden by wide leaves and long blades of grass. As the only member of Mountains lovers club, Jade was eager to have somebody - especially the infamous magicless prefect of Ramshackle - come along, even if he knew you only agreed because of some favor you needed from him. Both equipped with light camping gear, you venture up a hill in search of mushrooms. On the way to the top Jade tells you why he took you there in the first place: apparently, on one of the Botanical lessons he learned of a rare species of mushrooms, last seen around that hill; to his delight, the said species weren't hard to care for - a perfect addition to Jade's terrarium - and the way from NRC wasn't long or tiresome, which allowed him to bring you along without worrying about you collapsing halfway from exhausting, not quite used to walking big distances.

Whatever fears you might've had for the trip instantly evaporate when you notice how passionate your senior is about his hobby. It's not the fear-inducing hitman everybody sees and describes him as, but only an ordinary highschooler ranting about his interests to the first willing listener. What a heartfelt scene.

"...and it's told to possess strong poison, able to paralyze a mammal as big as an elephant from just a bite. Why, isn't that curious? I'd love to have one of them in my disposition."

...up until the moment his (seemingly inherited) thirst for murder lets itself be known.

The higher the trail goes, the more changes add to scenery. Colorful wild plants and berries, butterflies and beetles of various kinds. And most importantly - air, fresh and free, a fine change compared to stuffed school air you've grown used to.

"According to the data I collected, it should be growing around this area. I propose splitting up for more efficiency. Can I trust you not to get lost, mauled by beasts or poisoned?", looking you over, he thinks for a second, soon reconsidering, "No, it would be best for you to just stay put and wait for me there. Do try not to wander off too far, and call for me if needed - after all, for this short while your safety is my responsibility."

"Then why did you even drag me along?"

"For company. Hiking is most enjoyable with a companion. Take this as a chance to catch a break from all the bustle your poor body has had to endure. Do not worry, I won't be away for more than five minutes."

He frames his words (so unlike the thinly veiled threats and mocking remarks he'd usually make in school) with a nod, leisurely going his own way, often bending down to check under trees and most suspicious patches of grass for mushrooms, before he disappears from sight.

You decide to take a seat on a dry stump, surrounded by vibrant-green moss. Birds' trill fills in the growing silence. Leaves rustle somewhere over your head - something you would've hardly heard a minute or two ago. As if trying to accommodate a picky guest, the nature around you beams in full flourish, bringing a sure sense of comfort. Despite having intruded its domain, you don't feel alien - with no visible threats nearby, you follow Jade's advice and give yourself permission to relax... only to be disturbed by someone's voice reaching from down the hill.

"Hey! Anybody here? Please, help me!"

...No need to think twice to recognize the voice. What a coincidence. There's no way he just appeared there, far away from both his and your schools, all by himself, and didn't even you and Jade's path.

"By the way, five minutes should've already passed by now. Where the hell is he?"

This whole situation is starting to look like one big ridiculous play. It wouldn't be so surprising if Vil suddenly popped out from under a rock, shouting 'Cut!' and reprimanding you for lacking proper emotions. You drag a hand across your face, constructing a simple plan in head: rescue Neige, tell him off, find Jade and pass out on the couch in Ramshackle. With a set of tasks in mind you venture down the trail - good thing it was obvious enough not to get lost among the greenery - and follow the boy's calls, not without tripping a couple of times on the way.

"Heey- ah, hello! Thank the Sevens you were near!", here he is, hanging upside down from a tree branch, legs tangled up in a... hunting net? "For a moment I was afraid I'll have to hang there all day and night. Could you please get me down?"

"What were you doing there in the first place?", moreover in such a casual attire, as if he just walked out of his room...

"Ah, that... is a long story. May I tell you after my feet get to touch ground?", he answered with a sheepish smile.

You sigh, but relent, reaching into one of your pockets for a switchblade, then grasp the rope (it wasn't hanging too high) and cut it. "Should've told him to brace for the fall", you thought, watching him land face-first into dirt. While Neige was preoccupied with brushing off his cardigan, you pocket your knife, preparing to go search for your mushroom-obsessed companion (how ironic for the one who was worried about you getting lost to disappear himself), but not without the black-haired boy scrambling after you.

"Thank you! Once again, I don't know what I would do if it weren't for you." "Mhm." "I'm not sure how, but I suddenly found myself here after following a butterfly, and-" "Yeah, great. You can go back home now." "But how can I leave and not even offer a token of my appreciation for your help? How about-"

Jade better come back as soon as humanly possible, because, Seven be witness, you might just tie this boy to the biggest tree in the forest and leave him to be eaten by wolves. At least Schoenheit will have a reason for a genuine smile this one time.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yuurei's fics #gender neutral reader #neige leblanche #neige x reader #twst neige #yandere #x reader

[starlostastronaut]

DAY 14 | THE SAME HEART

PAIRING: hwang hyunjin x reader

GENRE: exes to lovers, some angst, college au, happy ending (sort of), ambiguous ending

WC: 1.12k

CW: brief hyunlix at the beginning, there's drinking bc party, reader gets called sweetheart

PROMPT: "i can't keep kissing strangers pretending that they're you"

we are slowly catching uppp! huge thank you to mars for literally saving my ass on this one because i was stuck on this oneshot for days. i used like 2% of your idea but still you kickstarted my motivation haha. i hope you enjoy <3

title from not mine - day6

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You let Jisung silently pour more of whatever he was drinking - you weren’t really sure - into your cup. He had his own recipe for mixing drinks that he refused to tell anyone. You didn’t really care anyway, because it tasted good and got you into the right mood without making you feel too drunk too soon. Besides, your mind was occupied by something else, or rather, someone else. From your spot, where you were leaning on the wall next to the door to the kitchen, you had a clear view of Hwang Hyunjin chatting up a cute freckled blonde. You recalled that his name was Felix, and he was in a few of Jisung's classes. And like any other person on campus, not even he was able to resist Hyunjin's spell. You watched Felix blush and hide his face behind his hands. Hyunjin pryed them away with a familiar glint in his eyes. You smirked at how easily Felix fell for Hyunjin's magic, but a part of you felt pity for the boy. After all, you were once in a very similar place to where he is now.

When you and Hyunjin began to date, it was the event of the year. Hyunjin, desired by so many, somehow ended up falling for you. You would be lying if you said you weren’t in love from the moment you spoke to him for the first time, so to find out your feelings were returned was nothing short of ecstatic. Dating Hyunjin felt like a dream come true. He was attentive and affectionate, but he gave you your space. He was the perfect textbook boyfriend, until he wasn't. He began staying in the library until it closed. He began spending more and more time on homework, and your weekly “small dates," where you would just be together, go to a coffee shop, or watch a movie, turned into a monthly occasion. Classes and school corridors were where you met 90% of the time now. And you understood; of course you did. Hyunjin was having a rough time with his classes, and you did your best to support him, but it wasn't enough. No matter how both of you tried, it wasn't enough to sustain a healthy and functional relationship.

You agreed to remain friends, though that was not the reality. Soon after the breakup, Hyunjin distanced himself. You gave him his space, thinking he needed to get over the whole thing. You needed it too, after all. Nonetheless, months passed and nothing changed. Until Hyunjin began his series of hookups. Every party, every event, every social gathering with you present, he found someone new. Someone to take home and never talk to again.

At first, it hurt. Your feelings for Hyunjin never changed, no matter how many times you tried telling yourself it was for the best. You and Hyunjin simply didn't work out; that was how life worked. In a few attempts to forget, you brought home people too, but they could never replace him. So you just stopped trying. Soon, the anger and sadness turned into apathy. You pushed your feelings to the deepest pit of your heart, locking them there. You would get over him eventually, and until then, the feelings would stay there, hidden from everyone.

You averted your eyes from Hyunjin and Felix, who were now making out on the couch, and focused your attention back on Jisung instead, who was waving at you to tell you your drink was ready.

To your pleasure, you didn't run into Hyuniin for most of the night. When you went outside to get some fresh air, though, you soon found yourself in the company of one tall, raven-haired dancer. You looked at Hyunjin through the corner of your eye, begging your brain to not do anything stupid. You hadn't had that much to drink, but you were always kind of lightweight, so the outcome of this situation was up to fate.

“So you're into blondes now?” you asked, doing your best to keep a friendly, teasing tone in an effort to not make it awkward. And speaking to Hyunjin with the same attitude you used to have back when you were together made it easier for you. It allowed you to pretend that, just for a moment, things were normal between you two again.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “I've always liked blondes. And he's cute,” he shrugged. His eyes found you and scanned your whole figure. “Can't compare to you, though, sweetheart. None of them could.” Hyunjin kept his eyes on you, looking like a dumb schoolboy with a crush. It was kind of adorable, the way his eyes sparkled with something unknown only you made him feel.

And while Hyunjin didn't seem to realize what he said yet, you were completely taken aback. “You don't mean that,” you said, in a pathetic attempt to keep your feelings safely locked away. Maybe if you convinced him, you would also convince your already raging heart.

He looked at you properly, eye-to-eye. His gaze darkened and lost all its sparkles. His hair was falling out of the complicated hairstyle and into his face, making him look straight out of a drama. The darkness around you, paired with the dim lights from the party, created shadows in all the right places on his face, accentuating his beauty even more than usual.

Hyunjin shook his head. “All of them, I just wanted to forget. Because I still… Fuck.” Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair. “I'm drunk, but I need to tell you because I can't keep pretending. I can't keep bringing them home when all I can think about is you.”

You stood there, silent. You knew he meant every word, even if he was drunk. Hyunjin was an honest person, and no amount of alcohol changed that. You were on edge. Your feelings were returned, and it took all your willpower to not jump at him and kiss him. But you were here before. You tried and you failed, and you knew you couldn’t go through that a second time.

As your heart and brain were fighting over the decision, you found yourself saying: “Yeah, me too.” You sighed, looking away from Hyunjin before you could do something reckless. But life was about risks, so maybe now was the time to throw caution in the wind.

Leaning closer to Hyunjin, you asked: “Can I kiss you?” And when he nodded, you surged forward, not caring about anything else. You will see what the future brings. Good or bad, you'll deal with it all somehow. For now, you will just enjoy the feeling of Hyunjin being yours again.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings @darkypooo

©starlostastronaut 2023 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

#moony's countdown to christmas #mctc #stray kids x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #exes to lovers #angst with a happy ending #kind of

[saphrun]

Tim Drake HC if he never became robin

(Let's face it, no way he was normal. the brain rot is real)

He was thirteen when Jason died, and he was getting pretty concerned for Bruce, but also getting really off put by the violence becuase batman was never that violent

This pretty much culminates in THE INCIDENT

Tim isn't even taking pictures that night, he had after school detention, and because he knew gotham so well, was decently more muscular then the average person and very fast, he was taking his time

He watches batman almost kill someone. The man will never be able to walk again.

He calls the police, and continues hiding and following Bruce, because something was going on, and lets face it, he didn't really have any plans.

He doesn't know this, but lady shiva is in gotham, and doing the same thing

It turns out theres a villan AND hero intervention going on, where clark may or may not be guilt tripping bruce HARD into getting help

However, before Tim can trail him to the intervention, someone catches his eye

He's not that well dressed, Suit looks nice-ish, but the tie is obviously thrifted, and his watch is a little too good (classic signs of working for a gang, intimidation, spurts of money, clearly not knowing how to spend smart)

Tim decides that this is more important. Plus, what's he going to do tailing batman? Get caught while not even doing anything? No thank you

It turns out that guy worked falcon, and long story short, Tim ends up fighting a bunch of gang members in a wearhouse.

He takes out around half before, Oh lookie there, its batman, and he's rescheduled his intervention till the morning.

Tim is proper injured, a few good bruises and a couple generously bleeding cuts.

Then, because batman is fighting everyone in the warehouse, not just goons, because he doesn’t know what Tim is doing there, skewers him to the wall with a batarang.

Tim pretends to be knocked out but is going what the fuck batman inside his head

Shiva, who has been watching this entire encounter, and was very impressed by someone with little to no formal training goes and drops down menacingly from the rafters

She offers to train Tim and he's like sure ;-;

They go back to paris, and just to say, Tim's parents aren't just MIA. They straight up moved out of gotham and keep limated contact with tim, just making sure CPS doesn't get them into legal trouble

Tims fine with that too

So, in paris, Tim and lady shiva are kicking ass. Tim is learning to play dirty but also gains a strict code

He's very clear that he wont kill anyone, and that he believes keeping them alive is a sign of strength. that he wasn't so weak that killing them was his only option

They disagree but eventually Tim's pretty good at combat and Shiva sends him on his marry way (he beats her in a fight by drugging some food she ate four days prior and wouldn't set in until she was testing him)

Tim starts moonlighting league of assassins, just doing whatever really, and finds out the holly shit, Talia had a thing for bruce and his dead hero jason, brought jason back to life, send him and their secret love child to gotham, and also disrespected Ra's

He thinks shes so cool, and decides to drop by gotham, yk go home, throw in a public appearance with his parents, try the new zelda game

TURNS OUT HIS PARENTS DIE ON THE WAY OVER, ON HIS FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY

What the flip man, says Tim, on live television, reading a text finding out his parents are dead.

He doesn't say what the text was about though, so the people of gotham make a twitter meme about some rando kid at a gala

The whole things kinda a disaster anyway, so its fine (its later known as The Gala of [insert year])

Dick Grayson just got back from traveling (space) and finds out Jason and Dami are alive/exist, and tries hiding in the back, ending up in the same room as Tim

_______________

"Why are you back here?" Dick Grayson asks the black haired kid sitting at the table, playing what looks like a knock off of neopets. "My parents just died." He says sagely, not looking up from his phone. Dick doesn't really know how to respond to that but ask more questions. "How- uh how did they die?"

Black haired kid shrugs.

#dick grayson #nightwing #discowing #red hood #jason todd #damian wayne #batman #bruce wayne #lady shiva #headcanon #fanfiction #tim drake #tim drake is not robin #suspend your belief imagine them being emotionally vulnerable #batfam #red robin #tim and dick

[zippitty]

mp100 finale spoilers

It really got me how “Shigeo” was all “Reigen has never given a fuck about me so I don’t give a fuck about him” but it’s the fact that Reigen proves that he cares and is willing to kill himself trying to own up to his lies and tell the truth that finally gets the halves of Mob to reconcile because that last piece of emotional dissonance (believing in his master being a good person and giving him good advice and confidence vs doubting his motives and if he’s ever told the truth or is going to) surrounding one of the biggest pillars of his life was finally resolved. This normal ass man owning up to his normal ass mistakes is what gets the boy with the power of a god to accept the part of himself he’s scared of. (And for Reigen, the god-boy who he’s been abusing the trust of accepts HIM for all his good and bad parts.)

Shigeo was really so sure that going full throttle in the other direction (leaning into his powers and doing whatever he wants with them, rejecting Reigen’s core advice) was the right way forward for “them” but it’s Reigen who gets him to realize he was wrong. Because even that part of Mob wanted Reigen to truly believe in him and care for him and accept him for all he is. And when Reigen is fully honest, he can finally believe him. To Shigeo, Reigen has only ever been telling Mob to ignore that part of himself unless it was for Reigen’s own gain. But then Reigen does something truly selfless and tells him “it’s okay, you’re ready, you can do this, you don’t need me anymore, you’re your own person and always have been” and that’s what brings Mob back and gets Shigeo to let go.

Reigen’s last bit of selfishness is that although he’s ashamed of his lies he’s thankful they brought Mob into his life, not for the financial gain but for all the good and all the other people he’s brought into Reigen’s life. That he values Mob for who he is and not just what he can do, and that Mob should value that too.

We joke about this grown man being besties with a middle schooler but the whole show has been centered around their friendship that’s sometimes difficult, always weird, and incredibly important to both of them.

Back at the end of the separation arc, Mob gave Reigen an out when he tried to confess. Mob recognized that Reigen was already beaten and bruised and forced to his lowest and that wasn’t the right time to acknowledge it, it wouldn’t have done anything for either of them. But Shigeo forced Reigen’s hand, made him confront everything he’s done wrong or overlooked when it came to Mob - and Reigen didn’t turn tail and run (“It’s okay to run away when things go south” anyone?), didn’t try to blow it off, didn’t back down from his earnest desire to help Mob even when there’s nothing in it for him but danger and pain. He loves that kid and he needs Mob to know it.

Then at the end of it, Mob was able to safely let out his emotions for the first time in a long, long while - and he trusted that with Reigen. Because he finally felt safe and whole and fully his own person - someone that all the people in his life would accept, starting with the first person that gave him hope after that traumatizing incident.

As Mob said in the fan book - Shishou will always be Shishou.

#mp100 #mp100 spoilers #mp100 season 3 #welcome to emotional rambling hours #talk tag #idk how coherent this is #I really want to rewatch the episode