#full of anger and hopelessness.

[nobodysgf]

i hate the politics in this country, ihate how apathetic and ignorant and stupid people are here

#full of anger and hopelessness. #also hate how i cant talk about this with the one person i know would understand exactly how I'm feeling because we FUCKED our relationship #and it's fucking awkward now

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, yandere, f!reader, bondage, abuse, punishment, intense spanking/whipping-ish

gn reader

“Please- plea- m’so- sorry-” You sob, voice cracking on its own blubbering. Chest full of panic – heaving for a fix but achieving little less than spurring even more hysteria.

“Haah…” He sighs. Casually fixing your bonds tighter around your wrists, hoisting them a little higher above your head until you were properly stretched up on your tippy-toes.

Shivering in just your undies in anxious wait of his anger.

Stroking your back while holding your belly in a steady hand, he thinks he’s never felt fear quite like it, but unfortunately, “Y’broke the rules, Sunshine… and now yer’ gettin’ punished.”

He unbuckles his belt. Your eardrums burn at the crisp sound, so much spiked blood rushing about, making you go dizzy. 

You think you might pass out.

“What did I say the rules were, hm? ‘You remember ‘em?” He mumbles in a steady tone, speaking awfully softly with his lips pressed against your temple. Waiting for your answer.

You give a sob and a pitiful nod, and he hums in return, rubbing calm circles into your shivering, goose-fleshed skin.

“Recite them for me.” He requests, nose rubbing your hairline as you shiver from his touch.

Voice unsteady, filtered through tears and a hopeless sense of terror – chin tipped up, needing to gasp for breaths. “N-no fighting, no- no arguing, no run- running-”

“Mh…” He hums, taking in the scent of your shampoo with a sniff of your crown, placing a kiss there as though in kudos – or as a small mercy before getting started. “And you managed to do all three in one night. ‘You feel proud, hm? ‘You feel accomplished? Hm? Was it worth it?”

You whimper under the interrogation, feeling smaller and smaller by the second – so exposed where you are, practically hanging from the ceiling like dead meat. Stripped of everything that might’ve protected you – or that would have at least cushioned the coming onslaught of pain you knew to dread.

“Nah… it’s written all over your body. Goosebumps and cold sweat, shaking from tits to toes. You regret it, don’t you?” He murmured, winding his belt around his fist once, then twice, leaving a looped tail. “Mh, maybe you’ll think twice about it next time... or maybe you’ll finally learn your place.”

He finished with a soft bite to the chub of your cheek, then grabbed your chin just as gently, holding your face up to look at him as he sidestepped to your front. Leaning his forehead against yours, he stroked your jaw with his thumb – lips hovering just short of yours.

“I'm gonna hurt you, Sweetie.” He purred, stroking your asscheek with the cool leather in his grip – in such gross contrast to what you knew he planned on using it for. “I promised I would, and now I will…”

He kissed your lips then – slowly, sweetly – suffocatingly so as you cried – tasting your tears and doing a terrible job at withholding his grin as you felt it pull giddily at the corner of his mouth.

He licked his lips once he pulled away, walking a circle around you like a shark.

“How many hits do you deserve?” He mused. “I guess one for each rule you broke is fair, but it seems a little scant…”

He stopped behind you, placing a chaste kiss on your arm before nuzzling around it.

“Should we say thirty?” He offered, and your eyes immediately widened.

Shaking your head furiously, prayers already coming out in splutters. “No- please-”

“No? Too many?” He pouted, not bothering to mask his glee now. “Okay, okay, calm down, baby. Breathe.” He soothed with no effort. “I think…”

There was a pause – a hum of thought as he wrapped his arms around your front and swayed you back against his chest in a hug.

“Ugh fuck, I'm no good makin’ rules on the fly…” He feigned - sinking his jaw into the grove of your armpit before cuddling the soft flesh with his chin-stubble.

He sucked his teeth in a further display of thought before releasing an exasperated sigh.

“I really didn’t think you’d break ‘em, y’know? I thought you’d be a good pet…”

You trembled, eyes looking down at the belt held between his big hands – whimpering at the sight of him simply playing with it – psyching you out like a true sadist.

“But you just had to disappoint me, didn’t you?”

You bit your lip to stop a sob.

“Had to be difficult… and now I gotta make difficult decisions…”

He slinked off you, leaving you to wobble – toes barely grazing the cold basement floor.

You try your best to prepare yourself for the next events, but the more you brace yourself the more tense you get and the harder you cry. “Please- I’ll be good- promise- m’real- really sorry-” 

“I know, baby. I know~ I am, too.” He coos, kissing your spine while rubbing circles into your sides – feeling your ribs rattle with sniffles, struggling for air through your panic. “I wanna make sure we never have to be sorry again.”

He wraps an arm around the front of your hips, steadying you while stroking the loop of his belt over your plump cheeks – tentatively teasing the soft flesh with what was soon to come.

He licked his lips at the promise – already imagining the flawless flesh blooming with his marks.

“I think thirty is fair.”

“No- no please- please, don’t-” You thrash – but do so little more than in place.

“Don’t squirm.” He interrupts, his hand curling into your hip with blunt nails denting the fine skin, keeping you still, pushing your side snugly against his front – holding you intimately while gruffing out eerie murmurs still much too softly for what he was saying. “Remember, it’s another ten hits if you fight me and another ten if you argue.”

At least he doesn’t make you count....

You wouldn’t have been able to even under threat – too busy wailing.

Each hit like the lash of a whip, smacking you fast, one on top of the other. It’s enough to make you throw up after half of it – though it's mostly just water and acid.

He takes pity enough to allow you a small break. Wringing off his wife-beater and wiping your mouth with it – also brushing some of the sweat off your brow before kissing your forehead. 

“Halfway there, Sweetie- you’re doing so good~”  He whispered soothingly, holding your cheeks to pick your face up from hanging – looking into the hopeless look of your opium-blown eyes – so lost he didn’t know if you could even hear him.

He acts as though he’s sorry after, but the boner he’s got nudged against you doesn’t lie – desperately dry-humping your thigh for some sort of relief.

His breaths are tight and hot, puffed against your arm where he now mouths wet kisses. “Good-” He swallows thickly, brows tight-knit, voice thick with lust. “Good pet.”

You hadn’t noticed he was done. And the relief doesn’t register either. There isn’t much comfort in it to grasp, not with the pain still so numbingly intense that you can’t feel anything but the raw sting. 

He drops the belt to the floor and struggles his fly open, shoving the trousers down along with his boxers, stepping out of the heap in a rush – all the while sucking sloppy kisses on your shoulder and nape, mumbling praise. “Y’were so good- so good fo’me- gonna reward yah- my good fuckin’ baby- gonna make yah feel so fuckin’ good now-”

The flesh of your ass burns with welts and split skin, ugly marks already lining the once-pretty color with horrid shades of bruise-dark. Your throat’s ripped raw from all the wailing – only weeping harder when he takes your hips and sways you back to meet his fat erection.

He shamelessly rubs himself between your cheeks – frenzied with his mouth gaping, releasing a filthy shuddering moan while leering at the beautiful sight of his handiwork – feeling so proud he was blushing just from sheer sadistic enjoyment – even letting slip a breathy laugh now.

He hung his tongue out and let his drool drip onto the shaft, then placed another kiss between your shoulder blades. Gliding his tip down and, with the help of a hand, pushed it between your cheeks until it caught your entrance. 

A rugged groan blew hotly down your spine, and another cry was ripped from your chest as he sunk inside without a single spare second to waste.

He laid his face to rest against your back, nudging up inside you slowly with both arms wrapping around you like before – holding you snugly before he began the intimate pace, fucking only the deepest coziest parts of you.

“I love you, Sunshine- you’re mine- only one I give two shits about- rest can just fuck off for all I care- as long as I have you- right here… forever.”

BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul, Aizawa, Todoroki

JJK – Toji, Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Sukuna, Naoya

HQ - Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, Sakusa, Suna, either Miya twin

BLLK - Isagi, Reo, Kunigami

DS - Doma

CSM - Aki

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #yandere bakugo #yandere kirishima #yandere dabi #yandere hawks #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere jjk #yandere haikyuu #yandere toji #yandere nanami #yandere geto #yandere demon slayer #yandere blue lock #yandere csm

[astraystayyh]

The snow falls, we fall apart.

summary: when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

genre: producer student!hyunjin x reader. roommates!au. friends to lovers. acute descriptions of heartbreak and general sadness. slow burn. hurt/comfort. healing and hopeless romantic hyune. very inspired by long for you so lots of pining and yearning. (wc: 13k)

warnings: mentions of alcohol. it is implied that reader was in an a very toxic relationship but no details are shared.

a.n: happy birthday to my hyunjin, my muse, my light. thank you for being so full of love that it made me love love again in return. this is i think my most personal piece, and i hope it reminds those who need it that love should be soft and kind, that it shouldn’t hurt, that it should heal not break. i love you guys and i love you my xi, writing this collab with you has been a true honor <3 also!! please listen to long for you while reading :,)

winter falls masterlist.

You’ve only ever felt utter despair twice in your life.

First, when you were seven years old, playing hide and seek with your cousins at your grandma’s house. It was a warm summer afternoon, the air sweetened by pastries you devoured hours ago. You decided to hide in a wooden cabinet up in the attic, only to end up stuck there. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, the oxygen seeping away from the cracks underneath the door, leaving you deprived of air, of life.

Second, at twelve, when you've come to discover sorrow's new facet, clad in grief's heavy cloak. Your parents adopted a hamster for your birthday, but they did not know he had a terminal disease. You were distraught, to say the least, when you awoke to its still form, death claiming a frail heart unaware of its imminent fate.

And now, third, many many moons later, you are knocking on Hyunjin’s door a few minutes after midnight. It is cold out, tears tracing rivulets on your cheeks, your fingers tinted pink from roaming outside in the harsh winds, your heart much heavier than when you were a child. More grief-stricken, at your own hands, this time.

A disheveled Hyunjin opens the door, his blonde ash hair tousled and sticking upwards, a clear indication of the many times he had run his hands through it in fits of frustration. His gray hoodie zipped up hastily, revealing the silver cross necklace he was wearing, nestling perfectly against his honeyed skin.

You've always had an aversion to seeking comfort, saw it as revealing your deepest vulnerabilities to a world that isn't always kind. It was easier, much simpler to do so when you were a clueless child— when you sank in your cousin Lia's hold as she attempted to steady your breathing, when your mother cradled you in her lap after Pinky died.

It is much harder now, much more embarrassing because Hyunjin has never seen you this sad, never glimpsed your shadows that now swarm his doorstep, unannounced.

“What's wrong?” he quickly asks, eyes darting over your figure in a rapid search for visible wounds. He wouldn’t find any. All your injuries stem from within— blood doesn’t have to be spilled for your heart to weep.

You had rehearsed a lie as you walked up to his doorstep. You would say that your car broke down near his place and ask if you could stay over for the night. He would insist he could drive you to your place and you’d refuse, saying that it was too late and you did not wish to bother him. You’d sleep on the couch and slip away in the early hours of the morning.

Yet, it is the genuine worry etched in his eyes that dismantles the fortress you've hidden in, melts the lie in your throat, morphing it into a steel lump coiling in your throat. He looks concerned when all you’ve had directed towards you recently was anger. And you missed someone looking at you in care, not reproach.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You admit, your voice shattered, fragments of your vocal cords scattered out in the wind like a broken mosaic, the sound of it scraping against your ears.

Blow one hurt. It felt like your body turned against you as it deprived you of oxygen. The sobs that escaped you once you perceived the light pained you, perhaps more than being confined in the darkness.

Blow two was even worse, it was your first time experiencing grief. It was too hard of a concept for your innocent heart to grasp, too complicated for you to find solace in anything as adults do.

You promised yourself that you’d reserve blow three for monumental agonies— big pains and big sorrows only. That’s how you managed to keep all your tears at bay for most of your life. Would they be worth losing your third sob for? No, you've always found the answer to be.

And in all the twisted scenarios you’ve conjured up in your mind, deaths and illnesses and the haunting tale of failure, you did not imagine that it would happen on Hwang Hyunjin’s doorstep. That you’d burst into sobs at the compassionate look in his gaze, and the sad smile he sent your way. As if he knew, as everyone did around you. That you had handed a knife to a serial killer and it was only a matter of time before he stabbed you in the heart.

Two weeks ago.

“I’m trying to understand you but you aren’t helping me,” Seungmin is frustrated as he paces relentlessly before you from left to right like a swinging pendulum. You sit on the couch, beholding only his shoes, avoiding his gaze that would reflect the truth you dare not confront.

“He’s sucking the life out of you, can’t you see that?”

You can, out of everyone that surrounds you, you can see it the most. You feel as if you are carrying a skin that isn’t your own, weighed down by a relationship that has taken everything from you. But admitting it is admitting that you were wrong, in trusting him, in loving him. You couldn’t bear it.

“We are fine!” you shout back, the defiance in your voice surprises even you. This is a familiar script with Seungmin, a recurring conversation spurred by your puffy eyes and diminishing appetite. He tells you, begs you to leave, but where could you go? How could you leave a home where you've shed all your treasured belongings at the door— your skin, your bones, your very self.

What place would welcome you now that you're stripped bare of your soul?

“When was the last time he made you smile, huh? All he does is hurt you, and you...” he chuckles incredulously, running his hand through his hair. “You are letting him.”

Deny, deny, deny.

“This isn’t true. He loves me,” the words taste foreign in your mouth like rusty metal dragging across your lips. A small voice whispers that love shouldn't feel like this, but you quiet it down.

“Are you hearing yourself? Yn, I…” he kneels before you, his hands resting comfortingly on your knees. This is Seungmin, your best friend of five years. You know he has your best interests at heart, you are even more sure of it when his voice softens, shakes slightly when he utters your name. “Yn, please. I’m trying to help you. Please.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you push away his hands, standing up. “I don’t want your help, and I don’t need it.”

You quickly leave Seungmin’s dorm, your heart heavier than when you entered it, foolishly hoping that he'd ignore your distressed state after yet another fight with your boyfriend. But Seungmin doesn't understand, no one around you does— you’ve gambled your heart, and you cannot stop drawing the cards, even in the face of losing strikes.

❁ ❁ ❁

Hyunjin offers you a cup of tea with a gentle smile and you grab the steaming drink from his hands. The smell of chamomile wraps around your senses, and your brain fizzles out for a second before the soothing aroma. But it is a fleeting respite, the tempest of your thoughts crashes back onto you with an unsettling force, causing you to almost drop the drink as your hands shake. You place it down the table without taking a sip.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced,” you apologize, wincing at the intrusion, “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I always sleep late. Don’t worry about it,” he smiles, but you know it isn’t a genuine grin, because his eyes betray an unsubdued concern, refusing to morph into their usual moon crescents.

You’ve always thought that Hyunjin wears his emotions openly— when he laughed, he did so loudly, his boisterous giggles traveling around Seungmin’s dorm. When he hurt himself, everyone in the vicinity would know so from his loud yelps. And when something worried him, he would bite his lip, toying with the plush flesh to ease his nerves.

As he is doing now. Looking at you.

“We broke up,” you quickly say, and your words hang over you like a gloomy cloud. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you want me to fight him? I’ll bring changbin too,” he suggests a serious tone underlying his playful offer, and it manages to tear a reluctant giggle out of you.

“Changbin doesn’t know me well enough to fight for me,” you counteract and he shakes his head. “He’ll fight for me, I'm his princess.”

“Are you now?” The giggle escapes your mouth less forcefully, and the smile that graces Hyunjin’s face is a genuine one.

“I am. My proposal stands,” he extends his hand and you wrap your fingers around his palm. “Thank you, I’ll keep it in mind,” you smile but he frowns, flipping your hand around in his hold.

“You are freezing,” he whispers, using his other palm to rub warmth into yours.

“It’s fine,” you lie, slipping your hand out of his grasp, not feeling deserving of his kindness.

Wordlessly, Hyunjin stands, walking into what you assume is his bedroom. You only know of his place because you dropped off Seungmin here some time ago. You are too exhausted to even drink in the interior.

“Here,” he returns, handing you a navy hoodie of his and black joggers. “This will keep you warm at night.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, hesitating for a few seconds before speaking again. “Can you please not tell Seungmin, I... I can't face him right now.”

“Of course. I’ll be awake still if you do need something.”

Hyunjin’s clothing is warm, although peeling away your own garments felt like shedding layers of your skin, as if the fabric melted into your very flesh, just like memories from the day did. You have never felt this worthless before, discarded like a forgotten leaf on the roadside, one he stepped on for his own enjoyment, leaving you crushed in his wake, unable to fly away again.

Hyunjin’s rose perfume wraps around you, and you find relief in sleeping somewhere where your, his, scent was no longer around. You foolishly hope that if you close your eyes hard enough, you’ll manage to convince yourself that you’re someone else, tonight. Someone who isn’t tethered to the heartache, someone who can slip away from the clutches of a love that hurts more than hate could ever manage to do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Heartbreak isn’t beautiful, no matter how eloquently you try to dress it in the syllables of poetry, no words can soften the burn in your lungs, the searing ache that courses through your very core, reminding you that deep within, down to the fundamentals of your being and the most basic alchemy that ties your atoms together— you are unlovable. Whether you cut your hair or allow it to grow, change your heart, or leave it as it has always been, you will remain so.

You don’t remember much of the past week, blurry fragments here and there that float in your mind like a distorted water reflection. There is little room for memories when you are busy trying to remember how to breathe— one inhale in, one exhale out. The simple concept seems harder when there are unkind hands permanently lodged into your heart, squeezing it tight.

What you do remember is telling Seungmin through text the next day, because you couldn’t bear the way his eyes would soften if you spoke to him in person. No signs of surprise cast on his figure, because he knew that it was long coming, a train with one final inevitable destination— you in shambles, him okay.

You remember Seungmin cradling you in his arms when he came to see you, and you trying desperately to keep the tears at bay— too focused on pinching your arm to let Seungmin’s warmth radiate through your being, Hyunjin lingering uncomfortably by the entrance of his living room.

You remember begging Seungmin to grab your belongings from the apartment you shared with your ex because you were unable to face him, him, and everything that your old place spelled out for you. Stand in the ruins of what you once thought would be your permanent home.

And now, you watch as Seungmin and Hyunjin bring suitcases full of your stuff into the latter’s place. And you feel like an outsider in your own body, standing at the corner of the room gazing at utter destruction, unable to stop it, unable to mend it. Seungmin quickly reassures you that you could crash in his and Minho’s place until you find a new one to live in, already taking out his laptop to search for new apartments for you.

But you did not care for it, your eyes zeroed in on the satin shirt peeking out of your suitcase. The one he bought you on your first month anniversary. Back when love felt like a gentle feather running down your spine, and not a dull knife slicing away at your skin.

“This place's expensive too,” Seungmin sighs, rubbing his temple warily. Your logical best friend could not fix your heartbreak but he took it to heart to alleviate your other troubles. You would thank him for it, later, when your tongue finds enough will to move.

“What if you move in with me?” Hyunjin suddenly says and his words filtrate through the fog in your mind easily, as if he rehearsed them enough times so they’d roll out smoothly out of his mouth. “I mean, Felix is away for the next year since he went back to Australia. And I was looking for a new roommate anyway.” He shrugs and Seungmin turns to look at you, his eyes convey the question his mouth doesn’t articulate— is it okay with you?

“I don’t…” your voice is croaked, so you clear your throat. “I don’t want you to do things out of pity.”

“I’m not. If I was, I would've told you to move in with me for free. I still need you to pay rent,” he raises his eyebrows, a playful tease and you smile in relief, nodding, “Okay, I will. thank you.”

Heartbreak is ugly and all-encompassing, weaving through the roots of your heart and infecting each organ with its insidious touch. It renders you immobile, incapable of performing the simplest tasks, burdened by a weight unseen by the world. But you try your best, your very best to contain it.

You smile at the cashier as she hands back your money only to wonder if her soft, well-manicured hands would too crush a soul without remorse. You go to all your classes without fail but your mind is elsewhere, contemplating why the sun filtering through the windows no longer warms your skin. Can nerve endings perish when subjected to too much pain? What's left of life when you can no longer feel the caress of the sun?

You watch a movie at Seungmin's dorm but your mind is elsewhere, fleeting to this morning and how you refused to stay in the shower for more than three minutes because your thoughts might become haunting ghosts tempting you to follow them. You brush your hair and spray your perfume, only because you have to, because you live with Hyunjin and you wouldn’t want your sadness to taint him too. You wonder how long you’ll have to bear it. You wonder if it’ll ever leave you or if the veins in your heart have molded themselves after the pain and they wouldn’t know how to accept happiness anymore.

You greet Hyunjin as he walks past you, shaking your head when he asks you if you want to eat dinner with him, quickly retracting back into your room. You have ten unread messages and a pile of growing laundry you need to do, but all you can muster is to gaze at the empty walls, mirroring the void within you. Your mom told you to call her again and you don’t know how you’ll speak to her without bursting into a sob, how you’ll tell her that all it took was one person to break you. Or maybe it was two people, your hands and his tearing apart your flesh and bones. Maybe that’s the worst part about it. So you don’t call her.

And you only ever emerge from your room when you need to, just like now because your water bottle is finished and you need to refill it. You go to open the kitchen door when you hear Hyunjin’s muted shatter, Felix’s distinctive deep voice coming out of the phone speaker.

“Next you add the melted butter and stir it,” Felix instructs, the sounds of pots and utensils clinking in the background. You fidget slightly, mustering the strength to paint a fake smile on your lips.

“What next?”

“Sift the dry ingredients then add them to your wet mixture,” Felix explains, met with a few seconds of silence. You can almost visualize Hyunjin's perplexed expression, blinking rapidly in confusion.

“Explain it to me like I’m five years old,” he requests, prompting a small smile to etch itself onto your face.

“How are you surviving without me?”

“I’m not please come home,” Hyunjin sounds horrified as Felix’s rich chuckles fill the air. “Why do you suddenly want to make brownies anyway?” he then asks.

You go to open the door when Hyunjin’s response catches you off guard.

“They’re for Yn.”

Hyunjin's words resonate in the air, causing a hitch in your throat and Felix’s teasing whistles simultaneously, but Hyunjin is quick to stop him. “No, no, no, it’s not like that. They’re just a bit down and I remember them loving your brownies. So…”

It takes you a fleeting moment to dig the memory out of your mind, a year ago, right before your ex came to pick you up from Seungmin’s dorm. You had a bite of Felix’s brownies, a surprised gasp escaping your lips at its delicious taste, back when food had taste and happiness came easily to you. It was an insignificant memory, you did not imagine Hyunjin, out of everyone, would remember it.

But he did, and he’s now pacing before your closed door, contemplating how he’ll convince you to finally eat something with him. He throws a thumbs-up in the air for no one but himself, inhaling deeply before knocking on your door.

“Hey,” he greets with a hopeful smile, his gaze meeting your tired form. He hesitates for a second, clearing his throat. “Brownies?” You remain unmoving and he falters, “Hm? Please?”

“Sure,” you nod and a wave of relief floods through Hyunjin as you step out of your room. His joy is short-lived when he takes the brownies out of the oven, only to find them thoroughly burnt.

His mouth hangs agape, and he walks back shamefully to the oven, lowering its door only to scream inside of it.

“This will be more therapeutic,” you say, pointing nonchalantly to the fridge and he agrees, opening its doors and yelling once again in the much larger space.

Your melodic laughter fills the kitchen, Hyunjin’s embarrassment is suddenly a forgotten memory.

“I’m craving kimbap. Should we get it instead?” you propose, a touch shyly and he quickly agrees, afraid you’d change your mind and walk back to your room where he can no longer ensure you are okay.

Hyunjin absentmindedly dances along to the music blasting through the convenience store when a girl sidles up to his side, a saccharine grin on her lips as she looks up at him, “hi,” she greets and his tentative smile mirrors hers. “Hey.”

“Are you single?” she asks, her gaze briefly fleeting to the window. “I think you are really cute.”

“I’m…” he glances at you but you're suddenly engrossed in the ingredients of the tuna kimbap you are holding, pretending not to listen. “I am but I’m not interested, thank you.”

“Oh, come on,” she places a hand on his arm and he physically recoils. “Give me your insta and we could talk.”

“No,” he repeats, grabbing her hand to remove it when a loud voice startles him. “Baby, what’s taking you so— What are you doing?” Hyunjin watches in horror as the girl’s eyes grow wide, before she scrambles to the man’s side, feigning fear.

“He kept hitting on me when I said I had a boyfriend, baby.”

“What?” both you and Hyunjin gasped in comical unison. He would find it amusing if not for the escalating anger radiating from the man, who looks like he spends all his days in the gym. Hyunjin suddenly regrets not working out with Changbin.

The man strides towards Hyunjin. “Do you want to die?”

“No? there’s a misunderstanding,” he replies, swiftly standing before you and shielding you with his arm. “Your… baby,” he wiggles his finger in front of the man's face, “she was the one hitting on me!”

The man scoffs loudly, his face growing redder from the anger seething in him. “So you hit on my girlfriend and then accuse her of cheating?” His fist rises threateningly, prompting Hyunjin to step back, accidentally bumping into your chest.

“Wait, wait, wait! Let’s go talk outside, man to man,” Hyunjin pauses, his voice taking on a taunting edge, “unless you're too scared?” he smirks as he feels you pull at his shirt, whispering an incredulous- “What are you doing?” He shakes his head, grabbing your hand and leading you outside, throwing a sly wink at the man behind you now.

“Are you seriously going to fight him?” you ask, your gaze shifting towards the deranged couple who are about to step out of the grocery store. “No, of course not. I'm a lover, not a fighter.”

“You said you'd fight my ex,” you point out and his eyes soften surprisingly.

“You are an exception.” He looks back at the man, who's now walking towards you both. “But anyways, do you know how to run?” he asks and you frown, “who doesn’t know how to—” you pause as realization dawns on you. “No," you whisper furiously.

“Yes.”

“No,” you shake your head, horrified and he nods, eyes apologetic.

“Yes.” His fingers entwine with yours, he squeezes your hand once before he takes off running.

“Hwang fucking Hyunjin!” you shout and he looks back at you, a mischievous smile on his face. “I’m sorry Yn my face is too pretty to be beaten up.”

“He’s following us!” you yell, looking back horrified as the, even angrier, man runs after you.

“Well, run faster!”

“I’m wearing fucking slippers!” you curse and he giggles, tipping his head back, the wind slamming into you both, his hand never letting go of your own.

“Oh my god why is he still running!” you groan and Hyunjin picks up speed, moving you even closer to his sprinting figure

“I know, is it ever that serious?” he yells above his shoulder and you dig your nails into his palm.

“Shut up, this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so gorgeous.”

“So, you think I’m pretty too?” Hyunjin grins proudly and an incredulous laugh escapes your lips.

“Really? Is this what you’re getting out of this situation?”

“Silver linings, Yn, silver linings,” he shouts as you round a small alley, finally stopping to catch your breath. You both fall to the ground, heavy breaths escaping your chests.

“Holy shit, I’m not athletic at all,” he heaves, his eyes meeting yours. He expects to find anger lingering in your gaze but all he can grasp is your amused smile before you collapse into a fit of laughter, clapping loudly and clutching your stomach with your hand.

“Oh my god, I’m crying,” you laugh harder, wiping away at the tears falling from your eyes. Hyunjin’s weariness disappears in the blink of an eye— he did not realize how much he missed your smile until he glimpsed it again. And it is beautiful. Happiness looks beautiful on you.

“Idiot,” you hit his shoulder playfully, and his response is delayed for a few seconds, the warmth from your smile rendering him immobile.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, pulling you up. “Here, I’ll carry you home,” he squats slightly before you. “How impolite of me. How dare I make your majesty run.”

You shake your head, amused, before climbing atop his back, his warm palms holding your thighs securely. “Only because the slippers hurt my feet.”

You walk in silence for a while, your arms wound up around Hyunjin’s neck, the ghost of a smile still lingering on both your faces.

“They said it will snow tomorrow,” Hyunjin speaks suddenly and you stay silent for so long he starts to wonder if you even heard him.

“Mm? That’s nice,” your tone is melancholic, and he pauses at the peculiar sadness in it— as though you were trying to act nonchalant about something that has once meant the world to you.

“Don’t you like the snow?” he asks and your hold on his neck falters.

“I loved it. Loved ice skating and building snowmen.” Your voice is light and airy, like Hyunjin’s favorite mint chocolate ice cream. “But now it reminds me of bad times, bad memories.”

“I understand.”

Hyunjin knows what it feels like to relinquish parts of yourself you never wished to part from. For someone to grab your happiest places and to cast a gloomy filter atop them. Sometimes it is the loss of a season that hurts more than the departure of a person.

And Hyunjin loves winter.

He’ll do everything so that you’ll come to love it again too.

❁ ❁ ❁

Is it a nightmare if the person in it is one you once loved, looked forward to beholding with your gaze, hoping they’d never slip out of your reach? You don’t know, but you are growing tired of having the same dreams every night. Of waking up with an exhaustion that goes beyond your restless sleep but pleads from your soul to rest after almost a year of torment.

You sigh wearily, rubbing a hand through your face before walking to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. You find Hyunjin there, eating a cupcake while standing shirtless, scrolling through his phone. You blink at the sight.

“Hey,” you clear your throat and he startles, dropping the cupcake on the ground. He goes to pick it up only to bang his head on the table, a loud yelp escaping his lips. You barely contain your giggles as you walk to his side, rubbing your palm soothingly on his head. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you.”

“At least pretend you are sorry,” he mumbles, pointing to your amused smile and you chuckle, taking his hand and helping him to his feet.

“What are you doing up now?” he asks as he grabs some napkins to clean up the pink frosting smeared across the floor.

You hesitate for a few seconds before whispering, “Just nightmares. And you?” you quickly add, not keen on pushing the subject any further.

“I'm working on a song,” he explains, as his gaze lingers on your sunken eyes, weighed down by dark circles from too many sleepless nights.

“And the cupcake?”

“Some people need caffeine to function. I need flour.”

“I literally see you drink three americanos per day.”

“Okay well maybe I need both,” he admits sheepishly and you grin, drumming your fingers along the countertop.

“Can I sit with you while you work?” you ask quickly, before the words linger enough in your mouth that you no longer wish to spit them out.

The smile that Hyunjin sends you is kind, pushing the shadows of your nightmares just slightly out of reach.

“Of course, yeah you can. Don’t even need to ask.”

Hyunjin walks first into his bedroom, quickly slipping on a hoodie while you take in the interior. It is a quite simple room— a large bed with gray covers, and a desk filled with what you assume to be his producing equipment sits adjacent. But what catches your attention is the dried rose hung delicately on the wall, and the array of paintings surrounding it. You edge closer to it, drawn to the well-crafted paintings— a sun-drenched beach, a couple lost in an embrace so intimate their forms can no longer be separated, and an elderly pair riding a motorcycle, their love radiating vibrantly as if enclosed in eternal youth.

“You paint?” you ask, turning around to find Hyunjin watching you. He steps closer, enveloping you once more in the fragrance of his rose perfume.

“In my free time.”

“You are amazing, Hyunjin,” you compliment sincerely, your gaze fixed on that imagery of the old couple, one that most likely grew together. It tugs at your heartstrings, stirs a painful longing within you, a memory of a time when you too believed you’d find such boundless love.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, before brushing his fingertips gently against your forearm, for a fleeting second. “Are you okay?” he asks, a tenderness you’ve been aching for latched into his question. Your eyes refuse to peel away from the paintings and the love spilling from each paint brush stroke, a love that refuses to rest on your being as if you were harboring an armor that repels it.

“No,” you reply sincerely, turning to face him. “It’s really hard,” you say with a smile, hoping that the mechanical display of happiness would keep your tears at bay, tricking your brain into believing you're not as sad as you feel.

It fails to do so, and the tears well in your eyes like a gathering storm. Frustration twists your features as you shut your eyes, tilting your head upward in a desperate attempt to contain the flood. It pauses as Hyunjin cradles the back of your head, drawing you close to the warmth of his neck. His palm glides soothingly along your spine, before patting your back ever so gently.

Your back stiffens, hands curling into tight fists, breath catching in your throat. You've grown accustomed to pushing away comfort, putting up tall barriers to shield yourself. But tonight, Hyunjin seems to break through your defenses.

Tonight, you soften, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, head nestling deeper against his tender skin.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispers and another sob wracks through you, but he only holds you tighter. “It’ll get better soon.”

“I loved him,” you hiccup, your voice breaks, “a lot.”

“I know, that’s why it hurts.” His voice is gentle, and yet his hold on you feels secure as if you could stumble and fall, and he would be there to catch you

“I want it to stop hurting.”

“It will, with time.”

Your next words are tinged with a childlike vulnerability, reminiscent of blow one, then two. But you do not care for it, in that instant, you crave the reassurance, you need someone to plant a seed of hope in your soul because your hands are too frail to dig for it.

“Do you promise me?”

His response doesn’t come hastily, carelessly thrown into the air like idle chatters. He takes his time, considering it with the gravity of an oath.

“I promise you.” He finally says, each syllable infused with sincerity. A brief pause hangs in the air before he adds. “And if it doesn’t then you can hit me.”

“On your pretty face?” you ask, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“On my pretty face,” he confirms with a chuckle.

“What an honor,” you roll your eyes playfully as you lean back and he grins, tenderly wiping away your tears with the back of his fingers.

“I can't believe it took three minutes for you to cry in my room. This isn’t good for my reputation.”

“Good thing this will never leave this bedroom, right?” you point a finger at him threateningly, and he pretends to zip his lips, tossing away the imaginary key. “You got it.”

“So what are you working on?” you ask as you settle on the edge of his bed, knees drawn up to your chest.

“It’s a pretty sad song, wanna hear?” he offers, sitting across from you on his chair.

“Yeah, I'd love to,” you smile, and Hyunjin deftly adjusts a few buttons, before his melancholic whistles weave through the air, coupled with the somber melody of a piano. Your breath catches in your throat, the music reaching into the very depths of your soul. It's as if the notes are calling out for a loved one, for a time that has long passed, for a past that will never come back no matter how much we long for it.

The instrumental continues, each piano note and each violin string echo like a bittersweet lament, springing tears to your eyes. But the melody remains beautiful, akin to the beauty always found in the sadness— in the tears that cascade down your cheeks like glistening crystals, in the tremble of your hands akin to branches swaying in the wind, in the rise and fall of your chest with each breath, mirroring the ebb and flow of the waves.

Hyunjin watches you intently as the music envelops you both, his gaze softening with each passing moment. You bring a hand to your chest, almost unconsciously, too engrossed in the melody to even blink. He feels a blush sprout on his cheeks as your teary eyes hold his with the last fading guitar strings.

“You keep on making me cry,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion, and he grins, tilting his head shyly against his shoulder.

“You like it?” he asks, a tad eager and you nod, not bothering to wipe the lone tears that are falling down your cheeks.

“I think this is what my loneliness sounds like,” you confess softly.

“As do mine.”

A silent beat runs between you both, it isn’t uncomfortable, but safe. Because you understand him, just as he understands you.

“Sometimes I long for things that have passed," he admits, “although I know I can't get them anymore.”

“The most terrible thing you can long for is yourself.”

“Because no one’s to blame for that loss but you?” he muses and you nod, a sad smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, exactly.”

You bite your lip, casting a glance back at the paintings adorning the wall. “I don't love him anymore,” you begin quietly. “I stopped a long time ago because there was no room for love anymore to grow amid weeds and thorns.”

He remains silent, sensing that this is a weight you need to unburden yourself from.

“But in the midst of it I think I stopped loving myself too,” you whisper, a confession too terrible to be uttered out loud. “That's what I long for. The things I used to love that I'm indifferent to now.”

“Like you’re a stranger before everything once familiar to you.”

“Yeah, you express it prettily,” you remark with a small smile.

“It's my job,” he grins lightly.

“I think when your heart is pure,” he begins after a while, pausing to carefully choose the words that will soothe your burn, help sleep come more easily to you. “You give love to others more readily than you do to yourself. And it takes time, patience, to redirect that love back to your own heart once again. But it's not a mistake to love, you shouldn’t hate yourself for it. Nor should you blame your past self for loving the wrong person because they did not know what you now do.”

“Think of it as a caterpillar in their cocoon,” he continues gently, “when they finally emerge from their chrysalis, they might long for who they were, where they once were because it is the only place they've ever known. But they do not realize that they've transformed into a beautiful butterfly, that they can now fly, and witness much more than their chrysalis. So maybe, your new self will love the same things as before, or maybe you’ll find new, better things to love that you would have not known before. But in either way, your heart is beautiful. That is what matters, no?”

A small pout draws on your lips, your eyebrows scrunched as you gaze at him.

“You have a very tender soul, Hyunjin.”

Your words linger in Hyunjin's mind long after the sunrise, as you lay peacefully asleep on his bed. The melody of the instrumental he produced continues to play faintly in the background, serving as a gentle lullaby that eases you into slumber, entwined in his sheets, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself, one hand cradling your shoulders and the other resting gently on your stomach. The image sears into his eyes as he sketches the outlines of a figure holding itself absentmindedly, long into the night.

Hyunjin has had his fair share of compliments, mostly pertaining to his face, and others to his craft. but it is you who seems to have sensed that a part of his soul resided in his art, that he left pieces of his heart hidden in the notes he composes and the lyrics he writes, hoping they’ll find soft hands that will take care of them, just like your own.

Five days later.

hyunjin [11:34 p.m.]: are you home?

yn [11:34 p.m.]: yeahh, do you need anything?

hyunjin [11:35 p.m.]: come downstairs, im waiting for youu

if you say no i’ll freeze to death..

hurry i can’t feel my fingers anymore (please please) ㅠㅠㅠ

“This better be a life and death situation Hwang Hyunjin,” you say threateningly as soon as you appear before Hyunjin, causing him to straighten up from the wall he was leaning against.

“It is a very dangerous life-altering situation that requires your immediate assistance, indeed,” he responds solemnly, ushering you gently to his car and opening the door for you.

“Which is?” you ask as soon as he settles inside the car and he simply grins at you, his left dimple coming forth like the very sun on a gloomy day.

“You’ll see.”

Hyunjin’s eyes fleet to your figure every now and then, but you do not seem to notice, your gaze lost into the blurring lights ahead. He can tell you're still not entirely yourself, so he was prepared to forcibly drag you along with him. He’s almost surprised you accepted to come down so easily.

“Is that… Seungmin?” you speak suddenly, pointing to a man waving in the distance, as Hyunjin parks his car near an empty field.

“And Changbin? And Minho?” you continue, squinting your eyes, “and a bonfire?” you giggle with a hint of excitement.

“You love s’mores during the winter, right?”

Hyunjin smiles, your soul softens.

“I do,” you say quietly, “I really do.”

You quickly exit the car, running into Seungmin's arms with a grin of disbelief plastered on your face. “This is insane,” you almost shout, squeezing him tight in a hug.

“It was so hard to find the perfect middle of nowhere for this,” Minho grumbles as you move to greet him, but the warmth of his embrace assures you he's only teasing.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile as you hug Changbin, who affectionately ruffles your hair. “It was Hyunjin’s idea,” he reveals, and you glance back at Hyunjin, who stands with his hands buried deep within his sweatpants behind you. You mouth a silent “thank you” to him, but he shakes his head modestly as if it is nothing to bring happiness to a bruised heart.

The night unfolds in endless laughter, with Minho and Hyunjin taking turns roasting marshmallows over the crackling bonfire, and Seungmin serving you hot coffee to keep your hands warm. Your stomach aches from the uncontrollable fits of giggles that overtook your being as Minho recounts the time he danced so vigorously on stage for his dance club that he ripped his pants, feeling a breeze where there shouldn't be one; and Changbin tells you the story of the time his voice cracked in the middle of a rap battle, and how none of the boys stopped teasing him about it for months to come.

And as the four of them take turns making you laugh, a quiet, tender realization dawns on you—you are loved. It is something he tried to convince you was impossible, that no one around truly cared for you but him. And even then, you weren’t deserving of his love whole, only scrapes of it, as if you were a beggar tugging at the outskirts of his heart.

But Hyunjin reminded you otherwise. And if your friends found something worthy of love within you then perhaps so will you again, one day.

“Did you have fun?” Hyunjin asks as he opens the door to his, your, apartment hours later. What he doesn't expect is for you to respond by wrapping your arms around his slender torso, squeezing tight in gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whisper and he nods, though you cannot see him, returning the embrace by wrapping his arms around your shoulder blades.

Hyunjin doesn't let go first, sensing that perhaps you need this hug more than he does. He smiles as your eyes meet his again, but his grin falters when he notices your gaze flickering towards your bedroom, a hint of unease clouding your expression. It's as if behind that door lie monsters only you can grasp, wearing the faces of people you once knew, once loved.

“Wanna stay with me while I work on the song?”

“Last time I ended up sleeping on your bed,” you say a bit shamefully, recalling the morning you woke up to find yourself covered with a thick blanket that wasn’t there before, alone in Hyunjin's room.

“It's okay,” he shrugs, “I missed sleeping on the couch.”

You stare pointedly at him and he chuckles, “Fine, I did not miss it. But you needed the sleep, so it’s okay with me.”

“Fine,” you concede, though you did not need much convincing for it. “But only if you promise you’ll wake me up if I end up falling asleep again.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, thinking to himself for a few seconds before shaking his head stubbornly, a small pout drawn on his face, his eyes semi-closed. “No.”

“Hyunjin!”

“Nu-uh,” he insists, shaking his head once more as he walks back towards his room. “I'm waiting for you!”

“I'm not coming!”

But you do eventually join him, after changing your clothes and washing your face. You find Hyunjin clad in beige and white checkered pajamas, his glasses pushing back his silky hair as he hunches over his journal, scribbling away before erasing what he wrote.

“Struggling with lyrics?” you ask, leaning against the wall and he startles. “Do you float on the ground? Why can I never hear you come in?”

“Or maybe you just love being dramatic,” you sing-song, laying atop his bed, much more at ease than the previous night.

Hyunjin sticks his tongue out childishly in response, and you playfully mimic the gesture before both of you dissolve into happy giggles.

“Kind of,” he explains once you both settle down, “I have this specific feeling in mind that I need to convey.”

“You'll do well,” you reassure softly, “your lyrics are always so beautiful. Remember Cover me?” you smile and he scratches the back of his ear, a shy grin spreading across his face.

“You still listen to it?” he asks and you nod eagerly, attempting to belt into Seungmin’s ending high note. You fail horribly and Hyunjin throws a crumpled piece of paper on your face to get you to stop singing.

“My poor ears,” he laughs loudly, and you retaliate by throwing back a pillow on his head.

“You just don’t get my artistic abilities.”

“I’d get them more if you stayed silent.”

You gasp, faking offense as you stand up to tickle Hyunjin on his chair, he starts squirming immediately, his loud giggles spilling all over the room, coating it in vibrant hues of happiness, and you’re suddenly captivated by the sight of him— his head thrown back, a golden lock framing his laughter-filled eyes, his top lowering slightly to reveal glimpses of his collarbones and the delicate veins that trace enticing paths on his neck.

You pause, your hand hovering over the side of his stomach, as a long-forgotten warmth spreads through your heart, like the first rays of dawn greeting the earth after a long winter night. It doesn’t diffuse quickly through your being, but rather drapes like sticky honey on your veins, making you well aware of your growing blush, of how beautiful Hyunjin is in his joy.

“Never singing to you again,” you clear your throat, laying atop his bed once again, and quickly reaching for your phone, anything to avoid his eyes which rival the crescent moon outside his window.

Hours pass before a warm hand gently settles on your shoulder, rousing you from your slumber. Blinking away the fog of sleep, you find Hyunjin leaning over you, his grin wide and infectious. “Wake up,” he whispers, but you only groan, burying your face deeper into his pillow.

He doesn’t yield, taking hold of your wrist and guiding your drowsy figure upright, before wrapping the blanket snugly around your shoulders. Without a word, he leads you out onto his balcony, carefully putting his neon green beanie on your head to shield you from the cold.

“It’s snowing!” he smiles, and his excited tone manages to dissipate the fog in your mind. You blink repeatedly and soon enough, you too behold the fallen snowflakes, each one resembling a tiny speck of light bidding farewell to the sky to greet the earth.

“You missed the first snow so I didn’t want you to miss this one too,” he explains, and his thoughtfulness blankets you with a warmth that seeps into every crevice in your body, drips down your fingertips and makes the cold of 4 a.m. seem less harsh, less biting to the touch.

You don’t know how to say thank you, because those two words don’t encapsulate the depths of gratitude that you feel for Hyunjin. Because he is speaking to the person within you who still loves snow, the part buried underneath layers of dust from a ground heartbreak. But you still manage to hear him, and you squeeze his hand tightly, and he doesn’t let go until you finally do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Remembering has become easier for you these past two months— both the good and the bad. And each day, the scale tips towards one side or the other. Sometimes you recall the suffocation you felt with him, the feeling that no matter what you did you could never please him, that your hands were crafted to break rather than mend. And on those days your wound grows, it throbs and bleeds different emotions.

Sometimes it's anger— at him for treating your heart so carelessly as if you were a being devoid of feeling. And then at you— for staying, for giving him excuses and desperately searching for goodness within him, for the one redeeming quality that would convince you he was worth the pain.

And other days bring an excruciating sadness along, a weight that presses down upon you until you're paralyzed. Because you feel bad for yourself and for everything you went through. Because you’re unsure how to rise when unseen hands push you deeper into the abyss.

And on these days, Seungmin becomes your anchor. He buys your favorite food, skips classes with you, and takes you to your favorite gardens. He talks and he talks and you try your best to laugh because you do not wish to worry him more. It is enough to be your own burden, you do not wish to burden him too.

But when he drops you home, your facade slips away, the smile fading from your face as if it were never truly yours to wear. You are too tired to pretend so you don’t, and Hyunjin doesn’t let you, either. He brews you tea and orders takeout because he knows you lack the energy for cooking. He goes with you on walks and drapes you in pieces of his clothing— scarves and beanies and gloves because he knows you couldn’t care less about a cold when there is a frost coating your bones. He lets you sit in his room while he works on his songs, and while he paints. Sometimes you talk and often you don't need to. But he’s there. He's there with you.

But you also remember the good. You remember your movie night with the boys, Hyunjin building an entire fort for you, adorned with twinkling lights and the softest blankets. How you watched movies until 5 a.m. your bodies so closely huddled together that there was no room left for sadness.

You recall Hyunjin begging you to build a snowman with him at the crack of dawn, the two of you collapsing in fits of laughter as you threw snowballs at one another, your footsteps marking the fresh fallen snow.

You remember being so exhausted after one of your showers that you simply laid atop the couch, gaze fixed on the void, too drained to even untangle the knots in your hair. Yet, it is not the tiredness that you exactly recall, nor the salty tears you shed underneath the scorching water jet. But it is Hyunjin's tender hands as he brushed through your hair, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck, his knuckles ghosting over the slate of your shoulder. You remember whispering that it was a particularly hard day and Hyunjin understanding. You remember him watching many YouTube tutorials to prepare your favorite seaweed soup, only for it to end up being too salty. But you still ate it all, because he made it for you, to lift your wounded spirits. And that alone was enough for it to taste good.

You remember your heart hardening then softening again, breaking then stitching itself back together, closing off then blooming like flowers on the first day of spring. You remember smiling only to cry then smile again. And you remember liking snow, a bit more than you thought you would. Because Hyunjin was there, holding your trembling hand, steadying it enough for you to rewrite your memories with winter.

So, you want to say thank you.

You do not wish to spell it out, because there are too many things to thank Hyunjin for and too few words to do so. Instead, you drag him to the farmer’s market near your home, and you tell him to help you pick flowers.

“I could be in bed watching my favorite show and yet here I am bestowing you with my enchanting presence,” he sighs, not too modestly, as you both eye the array of colorful blooms.

“Okay, Shakespeare, are you done?” you roll your eyes, attempting your best to hide your grin.

“Done annoying you? Never. These are very pretty,” he adds, pointing to the white roses in full bloom, their delicate petals emitting a sweet fragrance into the air.

“I agree, what else should we add?” you ponder, picking out four roses.

“Mm, Hibiscus? The red in the center is so vibrant,” he suggests, taking out his phone to capture the flower.

“Cute. Baby breath’s would look good too,” you say as you gather the flowers, heading to the cashier with Hyunjin trailing behind, still admiring the delicate blooms.

“Can I write a note?” you ask the middle-aged man as he wraps the bouquet in a powder blue paper.

“Sure,” he replies with a smile, and you return the gesture, quickly jotting down your words.

“Are you done?” Hyunjin grins when you return to his side and you nod, exiting the flower shop.

“What do you think?” you ask, angling the bouquet towards him.

“It's beautiful.”

“It’s yours,” you smile, growing shier at the intensity of his gaze as it lands on you, then the flowers, then on you again. “Take it,” you hand it to him, your cheeks flushing like the hibiscus’s crimson core.

“Actually?” he says softly, his fingers trembling slightly as he accepts the flowers and you nod in response. You bite your lip as you watch him take out the note, his eyes softening once he reads the words inscribed in it— thank you for making my winter less cold.

“Should we go?” you say a tad too cheerfully, turning away, but Hyunjin grabs your wrist, spinning you around once more. His fingers trail up your arm, coming to rest gently on your cheek as he leans down to plant a tender kiss there.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. You think that if his soft lips grace your skin a few times more, your nerve endings might forget the harshness they were subjected to. If his gentle hands remain on your cheeks, then maybe, your heart would heal quicker, better. Maybe your past self that you long for would emerge again, maybe Hyunjin would be able to unearth it.

Your hopeful thoughts disappear as quickly as they arrive, overshadowed by a sense of helplessness that crashes over you, all of the sudden. You sense him before you hear him, the familiar anxiety that is only synonymous with your ex’s presence.

“Yn?” the sound of your name feels harsher in his mouth, the syllables spat out rather than spoken tenderly, as they are when Hyunjin pronounces it. Your veins run cold as his voice pierces the air, your heart skipping three beats at once before plummeting to your knees. You wrap your hand around Hyunjin’s forearm instinctively, and he looks down at you, his expression morphing into one of concern.

You’re unsure of what he sees in you— whether it is your pale face, the quiver of your lower lip, or the fear that has coated all your features— but his eyes harden, his brows furrowing as he gazes at the man behind you.

You refuse to turn around, bracing yourself for his next words. “Yn,” he repeats his tone laced with anger, his fingertips grazing your arm as if intending to force you to face him. But before he can touch you, Hyunjin intervenes, swiftly stepping in between you and your ex, shielding you with his own body protectively.

“Leave,” Hyunjin's voice is cold, dripping with a venomous edge you've never heard from him before, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury.

“Is this your new shiny toy, Yn?” your ex taunts and his voice cuts through your being against your will, triggering a flood of memories you've tried so desperately to suppress. Memories of his cruelty, his manipulation, and the pain he inflicted upon you—using your love as a weapon to bolster his own ego.

“What's in it for you?” you find your voice again, though it trembles when you speak. He is the very embodiment of your pain and everything you loathe about yourself. You wish for the ground to swallow you whole, for a bolt of lightning to strike the earth, anything to spare you from facing him.

“It's only been three months, I didn't know you were a whore.”

Hyunjin's fist connects with his cheek before you can register his words. It all unfolds so rapidly that you barely have time to comprehend it. Your ex staggers back, blood trickling from the cut on his lip, while Hyunjin stands before you, his chest heaving with restrained anger, his right hand clenched into a fist, the bouquet still held tightly in the other.

“Fine, I deserved it,” your ex chuckles, his voice laced with mockery as he wipes the blood from his lip. His gaze meets yours briefly behind Hyunjin's back.

“You might not be a whore but you are unlovable, keep that in mind.” He spits out before walking away, crude words that tear at every scab covering your wounds, reopening them with a brutal force. Hyunjin moves to follow him, but you grab his shirt, pulling him back.

“He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Your words seem to snap Hyunjin out of his haze as he turns to look at you, worry cast across his figure. He moves to cradle your cheeks but you step back, refusing to meet his eyes. He swallows thickly, clutching the bouquet in his hands. “Are you okay?”

You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping as you shake your head slightly. “Let's just go home,” you whisper, eyes fleeting to his for a split second. All the lights in your gaze are muted.

You’re crumbling before him once again and he cannot stop it, no matter how much he yearns to.

It's long past midnight when you find yourself seated on the floor of your living room, a bottle of red wine placed between you and Hyunjin. You exchange it wordlessly, taking turns sipping from it, the alcohol warming your insides but doing little to ease the ache in your heart. You don’t exactly recall when Hyunjin sat next to you, but you don’t mind. You were too lost in your own thoughts to even register his presence.

“Yn,” he calls out softly and you hum absentmindedly, memories of when your ex spoke your name haunting you, each time he yelled your name, uttered it in disdain as if it was the starting point of everything wrong with you.

“Talk to me, please?” he pleads, angling his body towards your own. But you refuse to meet his eyes and Hyunjin’s heart twists in his chest. He is afraid of all the ugly thoughts that must roam your mind. He wishes he could enter it, open the windows wide, and usher the light in.

“I'm sorry you were dragged into this,” you say, your gaze fixated on the bouquet placed atop the table. The crimson painted on the hibiscus’ petals reminds you of the blood that spilled from your ex’s mouth, and your gaze fleets to Hyunjin's hand, slightly bruised from the punch.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, “there is nothing to be sorry for.”

It’s as though you don’t hear him, your fingers trailing gently across his scraped knuckles, tears pooling in your eyes the more you stare at his hand.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, voice thick with emotion, and Hyunjin’s quick to shake his head. “No, don’t worry about it. He deserved it.”

“You didn’t deserve to be hurt.”

“Neither did you.”

Your disbelieving scoff that follows scares him. What if you’re slipping away into a dark place yet again, one void and barricaded, in which the only sound that echoes is your ex’s hurtful words? What if he can’t reach you again?

“If the only person I’ve ever loved says I’m unlovable then maybe I am.”

You’re drunk, you wouldn’t have said such an ugly thing otherwise, wouldn’t have allowed this sentiment to materialize into the air, to take a tangible form apart from your abstract thoughts.

“No,” Hyunjin says in a panic as though he’s trying to quickly pull the brakes on your free-railing thoughts. He cups your face between his palms, your tears falling freely atop his hands but he does not move away.

“No,” he repeats, more calmly this time. “How he treated you is a reflection of who he is. And how you see him is a reflection of who you are. And you wanted him to be loving because you’re full of love. You wanted him to be good because you are a good person. And he can’t stomach that, can’t stomach that you are happy without him so he’s trying to ruin you again.”

“Hyunjin…” you shake your head but he only inches closer to you, his thumbs gently caressing your cheekbones. “No, listen to me. Seungmin loves you so much he couldn’t eat properly for the first few days you stayed here, texted me all the time asking me how you were and if you were feeling better. He isn't good with words so instead he tries to make you laugh. He wishes he could give up parts of his happiness for you.”

A sob swells within you but Hyunjin presses on. “And Minho, he tried to memorize all your favorite recipes so he could cook them for you. It isn’t a coincidence that every time we go over to their dorm it is your favorite food that we eat. He takes more pictures of his cats these days so he could send them to you because he knows it cheers you up.”

“You told me Changbin doesn’t know you well enough to fight for you but when we saw your ex across the campus one day he wanted to get up and beat him. He always asks me if you are well and if there is something he can do for you, anything.”

He inhales deeply, tears welling up in his eyes as well. “And me…” a tender smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, “you make this house a home. I feel like my true self when you are around and loneliness doesn’t come to me as often as it did. Because you are here. You are like a beam of sunlight that lightens up every life you touch, mine first,” he’s baring his soul to you, vulnerable yet resolute. “So tell me, Yn, what’s not to love in you when you yourself are so full of love?”

“Hyune,” you speak the nickname for the first time, and Hyunjin’s heart thrashes achingly around his ribcage. “If you keep talking like this I might end up loving you,” you smile sadly at him as if it is a terrible thing to be loved by you.

“But I don’t want to love you, because I won’t know how to, not anymore. So I'll end up leaving. And I'll long for you, and I don't think I can stomach longing for you from afar.”

“So please,” you place one hand atop his own, wipe away the lone tear rolling down his cheek. “Don’t make me love you, hm? You deserve more than to be loved by someone like me.”

You leave Hyunjin in the living room, alone before the white flowers you gifted him. He doesn’t want to put them away in a vase, for as soon as he grabbed them from your hold, everything around you both crumbled. So he leaves them there for the night, the creamy white petals aglow underneath the moonlight. He spends the night painting the bouquet from memory, but the petals end up too tinged with red, perhaps mirroring the blood his heart refuses to stop spilling still.

He did not realize it before, maybe he blinded himself so he wouldn’t see what was before him all along. But it is all the clearer to him now— that in his attempts to make you love winter again, Hyunjin only ended up loving you.

A week later.

hyune [1:25 a.m.]: i miss you

You and Hyunjin spent the last seven days avoiding one another, well you more than him. He just understood your silent plea when you took a step back the one time he tried to talk to you in the kitchen, swallowing thickly before inching away, allowing you to move past him.

You did not know how to face him after what he said, partly because you were embarrassed by your own response, mostly because even in your drunken daze, his words etched themselves permanently into your memory.

It is his reassuring words that echoed in your brain for the past week, not those of your ex.

hyune [1: 26 a.m.]: and i miss sleeping on the couch

You giggle, shaking your head before replying.

yn [1:26 a.m.]: no you don’t

hyune [1:26 a.m.]: no i don’t ㅠㅠ

but i finished the song

wanna hear?

Walking to Hyunjin’s room feels as familiar as going into your own. And when your gaze finally meets his you can’t help but break into a relieved smile. It was foolish of you to punish yourself, enough people have done that for you already.

“Hey,” he greets tentatively, and you respond with an awkward wave, a moment pregnant with anticipation passes before both of you dissolve into laughter.

“What is this? Are we in middle school,” he teases and you giggle, settling comfortably on his bed once more.

“I know. We are so lame.”

“You are,” he corrects with a grin and you gasp, pretending to leave but he quickly catches your hand, stopping you. “No, please stay. I meant it when I said that I missed you,” he repeats quietly, as if afraid that his confession would make you run away once again.

Your heart aches, the knots in your stomach tightening and unraveling all at once. “I missed you too,” you admit softly, and he smiles, his thumb tracing a gentle path above your pulse before releasing your hand.

“So it's done then?” you ask and he nods, running a hand through his hair with a hint of anxiety. “How do you feel about it?”

“Good. I hope you’ll like it, mostly.”

“I'm sure I will,” you reassure him with a soft smile, and he nods once more, pressing a few buttons before his melodious whistles fill the air once again.

Nothing could have braced you for the sound of Hyunjin's voice that followed, its timbre soft as silk yet imbued with profound sorrow. It's as though he recorded the song on one of his loneliest nights, his honeyed vocals dipped in an excruciating nostalgia that seeps into every corner of the room, every corner of your heart.

In the faded photo, I come across a smile spread across a youthful face, overlapped with the seasons.

Your gaze flickers to Hyunjin as a shadow of recollection dawns on you. You remember telling him that you couldn’t stomach looking at pics of your past, ones in which you smiled so freely because you were blissfully unaware of what was to come.

The night’s so cold that it’s almost unreal.

Because you weren’t aware of the winter that will follow and the biting cold that it would bear, for everything that will go astray in your relationship, for your ex's facade to crack like a glacier succumbing to the pressure of lies and pretense.

I wake up in another silence, and I close my eyes.

You remember Hyunjin confessing that silence haunted him more than words ever could, and you had agreed, sharing how sometimes you shut your eyes, pretending that the reality you woke up to wasn't the one you were living.

The white flower we planted together has bloomed. I do not dare pick it. Now it withers away.

You gaze at the white flowers you brought him, now wilted in the vase placed on his desk, yet Hyunjin refuses to throw them still. You see the card you wrote for him hung on the wall, right next to the dried red rose. He kept it. Though it withered, he kept it all.

So I long for you. And I long for you. And I'll long for you.

You remember the longing you both spoke of, how he understood a feeling you felt so incredibly alone in. How he tried to reassure you when he too was caught in the webs of the past. How you longed for him in the past week. How you wished he longed for you just the same.

So I can keep loving you. So I could be loving you. And morе.

The violin swells and so does the emotion in your chest. You remember him asking you ‘What’s not to love in you’ and how you've spun those words in your thoughts ever since. You remember thinking that if he gave you a few more weeks, just a bit more time, you might have found it in you to believe them.

You see Hyunjin’s glimmering eyes holding yours, you see his heart atop a platter handed to you, and you see the resignation in his being. Don’t make me love you, you told him. You didn’t dare to tell him not to love you in return, deemed it too foolish of thought to entertain.

For he was Hwang Hyunjin, the quiet producer who paints in his free time and who wears his heart on his sleeve. Who remains hopeful, loving, and tender, despite the thorns pricking at his side. Who is beautiful, so much so that he allowed you to see beauty in the universe once again, through his eyes.

How could he love you?

How could you not love him?

“The song,” you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips as you stand, trembling, on your feet. Hyunjin rises too, meeting you in the center of his room.

“It is about you. For you,” he says simply as if his words don’t cause your world to burst at the seams only to mend itself once again, too eager to fix itself and exist in the same timeline as Hyunjin.

“I don't… I don’t know what to say,” you say earnestly, feeling your heart pound in your chest, its beats resounding loudly in your ears.

It is wrong of you to assume he wishes you to say something. He is Hyunjin, the one who finds words in your silences too, after all.

“I don’t need you to say anything,” he shakes his head, taking another step closer to you. “I don't want an answer, I don't wish to pressure you. I just wanted to tell you that my love is here, it is yours to take or to leave, to cherish or to discard. But it is yours, because this is who I am. I am someone who loves you.”

“So do not tell me to forget you because I don't know how to. And don’t tell me that you’ll leave because I will love you still, because you’d still be you, near or far, you are you. And you are someone I long for.” He pauses, his voice softening. “And I long for you, Yn, more than anything I've ever longed for. And I've spent all my life longing.”

His lips meet your forehead tenderly, and you feel your entire being grow limp at the chaste kiss, as if your limbs wish to liquefy and form a puddle on the floor. His touch is soft, and you miss it the moment he parts from you.

“There must be something in this room that keeps on making you cry,” he smiles and you bring your hands to your damp cheeks, surprised to find there tears you didn’t realize had fallen.

“It’s you,” you pinch his arm playfully and he squirms away from your hold, stabbing his toe on the desk in the process. A loud fuck echoes around the room, and your laughter dissipates the tension clinging into the air.

“Can you play it again?” you request softly and Hyunjin’s theatrics fade as a shy smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Is it good?”

“It's everything to me.”

“It's called ‘long for you’, by the way.”

“Long for you,” you repeat quietly. There has never been a prettier combination of words.

The title all but makes sense as you lay on the bed, your gaze fixed on the paintings hung on the wall, Hyunjin sketching quietly on his desk, the song resonating softly in the background. You've longed for many things in your life—the person you once were and the tender love you once craved—but amidst it all, nothing has weighed heavier on your heart than the longing for the man sitting just two meters away, almost in your loving grasp. Almost.

❁ ❁ ❁

It is an excruciating five days that Hyunjin spends apart from you, the both of you too caught up in your assignments to find a moment to properly speak. But you do not shy away from him when he greets you, and your grin is kind as it drapes across his being, and Hyunjin swears he has never seen a prettier sight than you smiling.

On the sixth night, Hyunjin completes the cover for the song— a figure wrapped around itself protectively, mirroring the way you hug yourself in your sleep. He hangs it on the wall, right next to your thank you card and the white bouquet he drew once again, wishing to properly immortalize its beautiful flowers, to purify that memory from the tumult that followed it.

On the sixth night, the house is quiet, the full moon high up in the sky, snowflakes falling softly to the ground. Hyunjin wonders if you too mimicked the snow’s descent— both of you falling apart with it.

But then, there’s a knock on his door.

His heart catches in his throat, his body freezing as if it forgot how to move. You are here.

“Come in,” he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. You push the door open, and Hyunjin's words wilt on his tongue as he sees what you're carrying—another bouquet, filled with white flowers, yet again.

“Hey,” you smile, standing by the door.

He remains silent, unsure of what to say, or how to speak. He longs for you when you are away, even more so when you’re before him.

“We shouldn't let these white flowers wither away too, right?” you smile slightly, placing the bouquet on the desk before walking to Hyunjin’s bedside. His voice falters, vocal cords refusing to move and overshadow your voice.

You sit beside him, gently pulling his hand so that you’d both lie on the pillows. Your hand doesn’t leave his own, instead, it moves to rest on his cheek, reminiscent of the many times he had cradled your face before. Inch by inch, you close the gap between you, nuzzle the tip of your nose against his own. “Hi, Hyune”, you say softly, and he swallows thickly, his voice coming out just as quietly.

“Hi, my Yn.”

“If we take care of the white flowers together do you think they’ll survive a bit longer?” you ask, your gaze never wavering from his, countless stars twinkling in the depths of your irises.

“I believe so,” he says tentatively, too aware of the warmth of your palm against his skin, of the sweet ache unfurling within his being.

“Mm, and even if they wilt we can always buy new ones. We can learn how to care for them better, with time,” you say, and he nods in agreement, laying his hand atop your own, tilting his head to bestow a chaste kiss on your palm.

“With time,” he echoes softly and you smile, vulnerable yet secure in his gray sheets, in his hold.

“Will you give me time too?” you ask, and Hyunjin reads in your eyes what you mean, understands in the shake of your voice the question you are too afraid to voice. Will he give you time to heal in order to love?

“As long as you need. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, pressing his forehead gently atop yours, and you both close your eyes, as a running warmth encloses you both, blooms a blush on both your cheeks.

His arms wrap around your back, drawing you close until your chests are pressed together, your head resting naturally in the curve of his neck. And it is long forgotten in your mind, all the nights you slept in this very bed alone. You feel safe, safe enough to long for love knowing that it patiently awaits you behind the door, once you find enough courage to turn the doorknob. You feel serene, as Hyunjin’s warm palms glide soothingly up and down your spine, as every muscle, every nerve, every atom in your being relaxes in his hold.

You are healing, slowly, with each fleeting second that passes in which Hyunjin’s heartbeat resounds within your chest, as its melody runs through your veins, melds with your own as if it was destined to be there all along. As you rest in Hyunjin, as you find a safe home within his soul to discard your worries at the doorstep and breathe.

“It did get better,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Hm?” He leans back to look at you, and he’s so beautiful, so tender as he gazes at you, you can’t help but trace the contours of his face with your fingers, hoping to commemorate him with your eyes, with your touch.

“You promised me it’ll get better, and it did,” you smile, as your legs further intertwine with his, and his rose perfume becomes an indelible mark on your skin. “Too bad I can't hit your pretty face now,” you joke and he giggles, tipping his head back.

He's so beautiful, body and soul, and he longs for you, you alone.

“But I can still do this,” you murmur before finally pressing your lips against his like a boat finally reaching the shore after months of sailing. You both exhale, in yearning, in relief, as your mouths move together in a slow, languid dance, his hand finding the pulse on your neck, yours settling atop his jaw.

He would kiss you again, this intimately, in the coming months, when your heart expands enough to contain the love Hyunjin deserves. He would kiss you again, when your past comes to haunt you, and healing sounds like an elusive myth you’d never encounter in your life.

And he would kiss you again, over the kitchen table and under the fridge’s light, in between paintings and in supermarket aisles, while picking flowers and watching the first snow.

He would kiss you, this tenderly, in the next winter, and the ones after it, as if his longing for you never wanes. Till blow three disappears from your memory, till all you remember is the love, the true one, the kind one, the soft one Hyunjin alone could have brought you.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x reader #skz x you #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #skz au #skz scenarios #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin angst #hwang hyujin imagines #hyunjin imagines

[horrorartsworld]

I can’t help but think of this cute little sinner,coming into Valentino’s office asking if he knew where velvette was,because this poor girl had a meeting with her,being told to sit with him while he manages to fuck her brains out only a couple minutes later

-🎀

pretty visitor

valentino/shy sinner f!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, bit of proofread, a bit of manipulation, innocence kink??, corruption kink????, dumbification??????

Valentino rubs his temples while seated at his desk, frustrated with the film that was playing in front of him.

A video from his most recent porno was pulled up at full volume on his computer, loud moans and the continuous sound of skin to skin slapping echoed off the walls of his office as he watched out of pure anger seeing that the main star in his video wasn’t giving it their all like they should’ve been. “That fucking bitch! *squeak* wait till I find them *squeak* *squeak* *squeak* they knew what they were fucking doing..trying to cross me..” Valentino grumbled furiously to himself, not noticing the sweet figure that had wandered into his office, a soft pink glow decorated her cheeks hearing the audio from his computer making it somewhat hard to interrupt him.

“Um…e-excuse me sir?” You delicately spoke, hands fiddling in front of you seeing as he didn’t hear you it made you nibble at your lip nervously, knowingly you had to speak a little louder to be heard over the audio.

“Excuse me!” You manage to muster out a louder voice than your usual one seeing that it finally got Val’s attention.

His red eyes flickering up to you in your now bashful state, taking in your flushed cheeks and fidgeting hands. Shutting his computer completely to get a good look at you, finally canceling out the once obnoxiously loud sex noises and leaving the two of you in complete silence for a mere moment.

“You’re excused carñio..now what’re here for?” He teases, finally breaking the uneasy quietness, not helping the chuckle that slipped past him seeing you get so embarrassed by just him even mentioning your presence which seemed to help remind you why you were here in his office in the first place.

“I’m sorry sir I—”

“No need for formalities doll, just Val is fine..but go on,” He cuts you off mid sentence making you feel like you swallowed your tongue as you see him send you a toothy smile, singular gold tooth practically blinding you in the process, placing his chin in his hands when you went to attempt at speaking once more.

“Oh um…okay..” You seem to try and gather your thoughts back once he interrupted you, his sensual charm definitely getting the better of you in the moment especially with the way his eyes were eating you up with no shame. Shifting on your feet you look away finally finding your words once more, “i-i’m here for a meeting..with um Velvette but it seems that she’s not here??..do you know where she may be?”

Valentino takes a look at the rolex on his wrist and clicks his tongue, the noise prickling your senses with curiosity as your shy gaze gets the confidence to look at him again.

“Seems like you just missed her doll..she ran out a little bit ago to go look at some fabric that got shipped over...” He states, causing you to frown with the feeling that you just missed out on your once in a lifetime opportunity.

Being offered a job from the Velvette herself who was hard headed and bratty as it is was quite a big deal for you. Especially with her taking such a liking into your clothing designs that you’ve done for the past few years and wanting to use them for some of the shoots had you over the moon and beyond. You were up and out of your little crummy apartment to get there to the Vee’s headquarters and miss her just by mere seconds.

“O-oh i’ll just be leaving then…” You sniffle, turning on your heel to exit his office as you felt hopeless,

“Wait just one moment carñio…” His voice stops you in your tracks, “Why don’t you sit with me for a bit and we’ll wait for her hmmm..?”

It would only be for a little while right?

You thought for a moment of the likelihood of sitting with none other than Valentino the Overlord of Lust and how maybe talking to him about your work could look good on your end if he were to ever talk to Velvette about you.

Quickly wiping away the tears that threatened to fall down your face you take a deep breath and use all your confidence to turn back and sit amongst Val ready to spill your guts about your fashion career.

To only be spilling your cum on his cock instead only minutes later.

Everything happening so fast that you didn’t realize you were caught up in his web of words that were so devastatingly enticing, having found yourself whining pitifully for more because of it.

“Aww my little fuck toy wants more huh..?” He husks out the question as if you could even answer.

Your mind was already so dumb off his cock that when his hips started snapping against your own again all you could do was moan and babble. The overstimulation being far too much for you even though you were the one to request for more, trying to squirm away from him only for a pair of his hands to hold your waist firmly in place as he really pushed out his thrusts at a steady pace, practically recreating the audio you heard earlier from his computer with the noises the two of you were making.

“Don’t run away from me now...not when i’m making you feel this good...”

Suddenly a loud banging knock startles the both of you, causing you both to look at the door as a furious voice was heard behind it.

“VALENTINO!! YOU BETTER NOT BE FUCKING ONE OF MY EMPLOYEES AGAIN!!”

Velvette was finally back and it almost sounded like this wasn’t the first time Val has ever messed with her side of things, let alone her employees. You wanted to scrunch your face at him but the spot he was currently hitting felt so good it made you want to scream, which he quickly shielded with a hand over your mouth as you practically cried into it.

“Shut up if you still want this job..”

Nodding frantically, trying your best to keep silent with tears brimming at your eyes for a second time, but from both the pleasure and fear of being caught.

“What the hell do you want Vel! Kinda busy!!” He shouts back, your thighs trembling while your shaky breaths brush against his hand, his thrusts never letting up as he seemed to go harder. Your hands finding purchase on his back to scrape tracks along his skin, dark purple streaks left in their wake, attempting to distract yourself from the obvious bullying that his cock was doing to your cunt.

“Did my 3 o’clock come in yet?” You can hear her huff behind the door, long nails clicking away at her phone.

Valentino looks at his rolex once more seeing that it was three o’clock on the dot making you silently panic.

“Yeah i think that pretty little thing is around here somewhere..” He smirks down at you seeing you now clinging to him so tight, getting closer to your second orgasm. “I’ll have to send her your way when i see fuck- her..”

There’s a long pause from Velvette before she speaks again, “You better…i don’t need you making all my employees a bunch of whores.” She snaps finally hearing her leave down the hallway.

Your eyes widening when Valentino takes this opportunity to go unspeakably fast finally making you cum, your body spasming as the overwhelming feeling of ecstasy coursed through your veins. Val cumming shortly after with a few more lazy thrusts till he pulls out of you.

“That’s right, you’re gonna be my whore from now on..” He purrs with a soft kiss on your forehead.

He then quickly helps you back into your clothes, smacking your ass as he watches you go to exit.

“Be a good girl frme and get that job yeah? I wanna do this more often..”

#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹anon’s #☆⋆｡𖦹 valentino #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin #hazbinhotel #hazbin valentino smut #hazbin valentino x reader #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #valentino smut #valentino

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PRT.6

06 : SELFISH DESIRES

SUM : it's your chance to make amends and push aside your selfish desires - your heart will ache but they're worth it 

TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james potter ; piercer remus lupin ; angst ; idiots in love ; unexpected turn of events ; sirius is the main character here ; jk jk ; it's you~ hehe~ ; you'll see what i mean ; wolfstar have a heated argument ; i almost cried writing it ; i hate seeing them like that ; poor james ; james needs a hug ; regulus makes an appearance! ; dramatic sirius black ; regulus is a good brother ; sirius being an instigator ; we love him for it though ; you can't just leave them again! ; no fluff here kiddos ; but kiddos stay away! ; just cover your innocent eyes! 

LENGTH : 3.7k

← PREV. : 05 | DRUNK AND CIGARETTE SMOKE

“You’re disgusting,” Sirius manages an indifferent glance over at his younger brother before resuming his miserable, unmoving position on the sofa — Regulus’ sofa. The obvious detachment Sirius has to the situation only stirs his younger brother’s bubbling anger, “It’s almost been a full month! And you’re letting yourself rot away on my sofa; get a hold of yourself!” No response. Regulus shakes his head with a drawn out sigh, “you usually don’t stay around this long whenever there’s an argument… I wonder what’s happened this time…”

Deeming his older brother completely hopeless, Regulus returns to his sparse but sleek kitchen just as the kettle whistles its readiness to be poured for tea.   

Sirius breaths an audible sigh and grimaces at the stench of his breath. The mix of excessive alcohol, countless cigarettes and mountains of junk food didn’t make for a good concoction on his tongue, definitely not for fresh breath. When was the last time he had brushed his teeth? He brings a hand up to push straggling strands of hair away from his view but grumbles when the curls had knotted up too much for him to comb his hair back uninterrupted. Stone grey eyes look down at his figure, stagnant and pale, weighed heavy from low spirits. 

What followed the night you left their flat was the worst fight they have ever had. It was mainly between him and Remus while James remained in the background, too downhearted to contribute anything to the verbal warfare happening before him. He was spoiled with love since birth. As an only child with loving parents, who never fought in front of him, whenever Sirius and Remus argued, James was left paralysed with despair. It was always shocking to him how nasty those fights became; his parents never fought like that. Sirius could see it in his sweet hazel eyes that James wanted desperately to have peace but didn’t know how to steer things in that direction. He had tried before, many times, to defuse the situation but both Sirius and Remus were too stubborn and hot-headed from the argument as well as their suddenly stark differences in opinion to back down. 

As unfortunate as it is to think about, these fights happened often, recurring in the same exact way – originating from opposing opinions, primarily between him and Remus. They would try to keep it together but it would just keep piling up until someone snaps and then there’s no dispelling their disputes. James either takes a side or none at all (usually the later) and Sirius storms out of the flat to stay with Regulus. 

He should feel guilty for being such a burden to his younger brother. He should have more pride in himself than to allow Regulus to ever see him in such a depressed and unpleasant state. Lack of hygiene, self care and self maintenance manifests into something so repulsive and unsightly, Sirius would usually be back and making amends within a week or two – encouraged by his own lack of cleanliness and his commitment to run from the disease of laziness. 

But it’s been more than that now. Nearly a month, Regulus says. Time just passes by, slow and tolerant, so unlike him, and yet, Sirius still managed to lose complete track of it. This is the longest they’ve ever had a dispute without reconciling.  

His own stubbornness is definitely a factor. He had been right all along. If only they, mostly Remus, had listened to him. James was fully on board but Remus was stubbornly defiant and managed to convince the former otherwise. 

“Do you think she’s the type of person who would embrace such an unconventional relationship with open arms?!”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Moony,” Sirius grits his teeth, his inner thoughts and reasoning ached to be heard and let out coherently. In his mind, it all made sense to do things the way he suggests, so why couldn’t his boyfriend understand him?! It doesn’t even seem like he’s trying to listen to him at this point! “She won’t understand if we don’t say anything to her! We have to be forward and bold! Do it now before something happens!”

“Nothing. Is. Going. To. Happen!”

“How can you be so sure? We need to be honest with her, it’s not fair to her and it’s, frankly, deceitful to keep her in the dark about all this!”

“We can’t be too sure that she’ll accept us. If that happens then we’ll never see her again– I don’t want that, do you?!” 

“We won’t know unless we say something, do something, anything!”

“Please just trust me, Siri,” Remus begs, his loud voice lowering to a soft plea, his beautiful brown eyes no longer fierce or piercing but kind and warm again, with a hint of fear. Sirius can sympathise with that creeping terror, an anxiety that wants to swallow you whole and keep you in a dark abyss for eternity, “I don’t want to frighten her…”

The first time, Sirius gave in, weak for his love and weak for the reasoning behind his proposal on the matter concerning you. The dark-haired tattooist couldn’t fault his lover for that but, in hindsight, he should have argued his side more, maybe then, you wouldn’t have disappeared like that…

“Hey, your phone won’t stop pinging,” Regulus alerts, appearing out of thin air and surprising Sirius enough to sit up and alert with wide eyes, “will you finally read their messages to you?” with some reluctance, Sirius reaches for his phone and proceeds to look through his messages while Regulus takes a seat opposite him, a steaming cup of tea in hand.

The younger Black brother was just about to begin reading another one of his classic novel favourites when a rush of air flew by him, ruffling the small strands of hair and whipping about the billowing steam from his mug of tea. Moments later, the sound of his shower turning on full blast echos through his flat and a smile graces his lips. 

“It’s about time…”

Lingering guilt had plagued you all night long and you barely managed to get a wink of sleep. It, however, meant that you were able to better prepare lunch for the boys the following day. While cooking, you abandon all negative feelings to focus on only the good, not wanting any harmful emotions to diffuse into the food and saturate it with bad tastes. Your eyebags weren’t a pretty sight but it was easily fixable with a touch of makeup. 

You tried to look your best for the day. Fortunately, the early summer sun inspired your motivations further. Yes, you’ve made the terrible mistake of selfishly pushing them away to nurse your own battered soul and unrequited feelings, but this was your time to make amends, to make things right… to see Sirius again. 

You never felt right after you accused him of cheating on Remus and James with each other, only to find out that he was far more loving and loyal than that. You were embarrassed and ashamed to have ever thought so negatively about him, jumping to conclusions like an immature, thoughtless child. It was wonderful seeing James and Remus again, your heart was practically soaring in your chest as it disregarded all lingering feelings of misery and dejection. But now, your chest felt incredibly tight as your heart ached to catch a simple glimpse of Sirius.  

You carefully pack away the lovingly prepared food and desserts into your largest, most durable shopping bag before getting dressed. It was only natural that you managed to make more than you usually made for the boys, seeing as you wanted to spoil them rotten after being so childish the last few weeks. Since the weather was pleasant, you opted for a cute mini dress with a light, flowy material that was comfortable and soft. Over top, you wore a cropped cardigan that had long sleeves, enough to reach past your fingertips. For jewellery, you wore a simple necklace and slipped into a strappy pair of mid-heeled platforms that weren’t too tall. Casual but cute. 

Approaching the studio doors, your grip on the strap of your bag tightens and your breath hitches. They hadn’t taken the notice down and the bold, red letters of their ‘CLOSED’ sign glared at you angrily. 

Were they inside? Should you knock? Neither Remus or James actually agreed to your sudden choice to meet for lunch the night before. Did this mean that they didn’t want you to be in their lives anymore?... But… but you wanted to make things right! You wanted to apologise! You want to be friends with them again! You’ll tell them right away – tell them how you would do anything just to remain by their side, even if it’s just as a friend, you’ll be happy for them! You won’t be selfish anymore, you won’t covet anything more than friendship with them, that’s all you want! Not that they’ve ever heard of your true desires—

“Well?” A familiar voice speaks up behind you, putting an abrupt end to your panicked inner monologue, “Aren’t you going to knock?” 

Swiftly spinning in place, you smile brightly at the biker and tattooist standing before you, dressed in all black, with heavy, lace-up boots and his signature leather jacket, “Sirius!” 

He doesn’t breathe a word to you, eyeing your hefty bag before briefly meeting your eyes and making his way over. His long strides made it so that he reached you in no time but he didn’t stop. With a light gasp, he had backed you up into the left of their studio’s double-door front entrance. You held your breath and kept your eyes shut tight, not knowing what to do as your heart pounded deafeningly against your eardrums. 

A moment passes and you feel his hand brush against yours before your portly bag of packed food is taken from you. A wave of relief washed over your aching shoulder as the weight disappeared but such a diminutive alleviation of discomfort couldn’t swamp the trepidation in your heart. Sirius was different. 

“Siri–”

“Let’s head inside,” he had opened the right hand door and easily slipped through with your bag. Alone and in the quiet, you felt like crying. You wanted to cry, desperately but you knew that it would offer little to no reassurance. So, with a heavy heart, you followed Sirius inside and closed the studio door behind you. 

The air was stale but, in it, lingered a familiar scent that you had come to love, it was a clean, almost clinical smell from the regular use of disinfectant and bleach. You love this parlour so much, it was filled with so many good memories, ones of soft affection through tender words and gentle caresses. Despite the earlier interaction, you couldn’t help but smile just from the wave of romantic sentiment washing over you. 

“You’re here,” Remus greets with a tired smile as James sits on the opposite end of the sofa with a shy grin directed towards you, his hazel eyes looking elsewhere.

“Sorry if I’m late,” you managed a weak smile, “I didn’t know if the door was open or not. Thankfully, Sirius was there to help me in,” Sirius didn’t sit down despite the many available seating spaces and chose to lean his back against a far wall, instead. James couldn’t meet your eyes and Remus was sneakily massaging his temple as he leaned his face against his large hand, “let’s eat, shall we? I hope you guys are hungry,”  

It was never this awkward. Or quiet. Especially when sharing your homemade lunch together. James would usually be giving you endless praise through large, mid-chewed mouthfuls while Sirius laughed at the ridiculous sounds and faces he’d pull trying to speak coherently through the mouthful of food, and Remus would shake his head, his amusement by the display evident in the warm glimmer of his eyes. However, James doesn’t have as big of an appetite today and Sirius stands alone with his tupperware, barely touching his food. Remus is the only one eating a substantial amount besides you. Although, you’ve gradually slowed your own chewing. 

What have you done?... 

What happened to all of you?

Your shame brought your gaze down, making your head weigh heavier than usual as you give up on communicating anything with the boys. This wasn’t how it was meant to go…what should you do now? The pain in your heart was unbearable. 

Shoulders slumped and confidence dried up, you struggled to think of what to do. You should have prepared a speech or something. It was naive of you to think that simply coming over with a homemade lunch would fix anything. Things are never going to be the same, no matter how much you hope and pray for them to be. 

You’re hopeless… completely and utterly hopeless…

This was your worst fear come to life. You had feared rejection but seeing them unloving towards each other, barely communicating and broken apart, your stomach collapsed in on itself as your heart fell to a million pieces. You didn’t utter a single word of loving them romantically aloud and yet, you still managed to get in between their relationship. This was a sentiment of how selfish of a person you are. 

How could you do this to them?! They were your friends, who saved you from the worst night of your life, and you repay them like this?! Shameful. Disgusting. You don’t think you could ever look at yourself in the mirror again.  

The skirt of your mini dress blurs on your lap and you have to bite your lip to keep from sobbing out loud. The tears, however, you couldn’t stop them. Hopefully, they’re all too distracted to see you silently weeping and you can gather yourself before turning tail and running out of there. 

Today is a complete disaster—

“Don’t cry, angel, please!” James jumps up and rushes to your side, kneeling down at your feet as he takes your hands in his and tries to meet your gaze through the puddle of tears in your eyes. His words immediately catch Remus and Sirius’ attention and they both begin to make their way over, evident worry swimming in their eyes but you refuse to acknowledge any of that as your mind drowns in all manner of negative thought.  

You shake your head, hearing the flurry of footfalls around you and wishing them away silently, “I shouldn’t have come here today…” you whisper. 

“What was that?” James patiently asks, voice soft and sweet and kind, it makes you want to fall into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you speak clearer and stand abruptly, “enjoy the lunch,” the haste and sorrow in your shaking voice makes their heart drop and they’re brought back to that fateful night once more. You don’t meet their eyes as you turn and push past them to leave, almost running through the hallway of their studio just to reach the door and make a quick escape. 

“THIS!” Sirius’ roaring voice suddenly cuts through the studio like a knife, making you stop in your tracks and turn around slowly. The door to the lounge room was still open, before it Sirius and Remus stood in an aggressive confrontation, both taking on a defensive stance as they faced each other, all while James remained in the background, clutching at his head as he slumped forward on the sofa, “THIS IS WHAT I MEANT! IF YOU HAD JUST LISTENED TO ME–” 

“I DIDN’T SAY WHAT I SAID WITHOUT REASON SIRIUS! YOU KNOW MY EXACT THOUGHTS ABOUT ALL THIS!” Remus shouts back, the veins in his neck bulging out from his fierce anger, the blood rushing in his cheeks making him look just about ready to violently explode. 

“BUT–”

“—YOU CAN’T FAULT ME FOR THAT!” Remus continues, not allowing Sirius to speak.   

“WELL YOU CAN’T FAULT ME FOR MY REASONING EITHER!”

You’re horrified at the scene. Sirius and Remus look ready to tear each other apart as James looks on hopelessly, not knowing what to do or how to diffuse the situation, completely torn between supporting one or the other. Without thinking, you rush back and skid to a stop between the two hot-blooded men. Their fuming rage was like a turbulent inferno whose flames licked viciously at your skin, ready to burn you and spread the hostility. 

“The both of you need to calm down!” you shout, pushing them away from each other and creating a safe distance between. Your tears had already run dry, replaced by the trembling terror shaking your limbs. 

“Don’t worry about us Dove,” Remus manages to voice through gritted teeth, his glowering eyes never leaving Sirius’, “you can leave and we’ll sort this out,”

“Sort this out like usual huh?—”

“—Don’t taunt me, Sirius,”

“That won’t solve anything, you idiot!” Sirius flings his arms up and James just barely manages to pull you away from being accidentally hit. Neither of the two seem to notice and James expresses his apology in lovingly nuzzling your temple, his lips puckering to kiss your skin but refraining and stepping away abruptly. You try not to feel the heartache his actions elicit in you.

“SHUT UP!” you’ve never heard Remus sound so angry and venomous before, it makes your heart stutter in fear and worry. You can’t leave now; this disagreement can’t end well without some form of intervention and James isn’t fairing too well with that – he needs someone there for him too, just to feel, somewhat, grounded through all of this, “She doesn’t have to hear all of this!”

“We wouldn’t have to be saying ‘all of this’ if you had. Just. LISTENED. TO. ME!”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous?!” Sirius growls lowly, his countenance scrunching up into a foul expression —an antithesis to his elegant features, “I’ll show you!” it was then that Sirius turns to face you and approaches with purpose in his long strides, unstopping like he did earlier when outside the studio. 

“SIRIUS—!”

Sirius backs you up into the wall behind you, “—Everything Could Have Been As Easy As Doing This!” you didn’t know what to prepare yourself for but Sirius firmly gripping your chin and pulling you into a deep kiss was not one of them. In your shock, you let out a surprised but muffled moan, slowly falling into the blissful embrace and reciprocating eagerly. 

Did you faint earlier? Was this all a dream?... 

…Dream or not, you like this very much!  

James and Remus watch at the bold display, disbelief shining clear in their eyes as Sirius has his way with you. But you don’t see them, you don’t see anyone or anything, all you know is that Sirius kisses like an experienced lover from fantasy and he wasn’t shy about loving you up. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you let Sirius guide them over your head to cuff your wrists together with his large hand, his other snaking around your waist to pull you closer and deepen the kiss. 

He tastes like spearmint gum and smokey cigarette smoke, his lips tinted in cherry lip balm for sweetness. What an addictive taste. You can’t get enough. 

But air is a necessity and just as you were beginning to run out of breath, Sirius pulls away, panting heavily. He doesn’t wait for a single second to pass before diving his head into your neck, where he peppers feathery but fervid kisses along your sensitive skin and smiles to himself when you slip out a moan. You sound beautiful. He needs to hear more. Sirius doesn’t stop, he sucks and licks and kisses and nuzzles along your neck like the tease he is, drawing out every quivering whimper and pretty moan you were desperately trying to contain. 

You keep your eyes tightly shut, too embarrassed to meet the eyes of Remus or James. Their gaze on you left behind a searing, phantom mark that developed into a displeasing itch. An itch that could only be satisfied if they kissed you too.

…So selfish. God! When will you stop?!

Ashamed of your gradually increasing volume, you seal your mouth shut in a stubborn attempt to suppress your pleasure. How did his lips and tongue feel so good on your skin? His touch made your knees weak and your legs shake, without his support, you don’t think you would stay standing for long. 

Just as you were able to swallow every embarrassing sound that tried to escape, James was beside you, his warm breath on your cheek as he silently urged Sirius to give way, “you need help staying quiet, angel?” he whispers and doesn’t wait for an answer, briefly meeting your eyes before he’s closing them to kiss you sweetly. It started off sweet. Sweet and loving like James before suddenly becoming very dominating and overwhelming. You were being devoured and the thought was undeniably arousing. They were both on you, Sirius kissing away at your neck as James savoured the taste of your lips before bullying his way into your awaiting mouth. He swallowed your moans for you as Sirius defiantly persisted, urging you with seductive lips to make more.  

Overwhelmed but so content. 

You were drowning in bliss and you never wanted to break away from it. 

“DIDN’T I SAY!” Remus shouts, stopping all activity and leaving you strung up high as the boys slowly pull away, not too far but enough for all of you to meet Remus’ unreadable stare. The boys look over their shoulder to observe their commanding lover, their large frames tense before moving their eyes down and slowly smirking, the tension evaporating off their figures as you’re left to rebuild another tower of anxiety from your lower stomach, “Didn’t. I. Say. We. Were. Going. To. Savour. Her?”

What?

Your shocked, wide-eyed stare meets Remus’ cool and, almost, unfeeling gaze. Once again, your knees buckled under you and you were caught by Sirius and James. Held in place by their hot, firm hands and the press of their toned physiques. 

What did he just say?

Unable to keep his stare, your eyes slowly fall down the tall brunette’s figure. Capturing his beautiful, full lips; taking in the delicious column on his neck; observing the wide expanse of his shoulders and chest; drifting down to gulp at his veiny arms and hands before landing on... 

Oh~

A/N : no fluff, but something better right? a little sneak peak on how i write spicy things but it's readable hehe~  

NEXT. | 07 : APOLOGISE AND COMFORT →

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS MASTERLIST

TAGLIST : @susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @imarimon @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-rou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g @mangodamochiii @queerqueenlynn @l3xiluve @brain-has-left @bunbunbl0gs @kneelforloki @citrusiove @virtualbuni @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @that1nerd-20 @wolfstar4everbitches @skepvids @dearmy-diary @littledollfacebaby @mylifeisnothing @em16cor @krazyk99 @imdoingbetternow @realalpacorn @remussbitch @swiftieeras1989 @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @canthavetoomuchchaos @rckstrbee @b-i-h-i @ennycutie @kneelforloki @theteaobsessedbug @padfoot1313 @d1gital-data @venezsuwayla @melllinaa

#poly marauders x reader #marauders x reader #poly marauders x you #poly marauders #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #remus x reader #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #the marauders #marauders #wolfstar #heroes in tattoos series #HIT : series

[n0tamused]

'Please cannot fix'

Content: angst, character death, gn reader, possible grammar mistakes

Words: 1167

A/N: to that one person said I wouldn't do it - here you go. Suffer with me now.

Once mighty and flamboyant  Galaxy Ranger, now nothing but a desperate pile in the mud. The rain hails down onto him like acid, unrelenting as it bashes his back and makes him sink further into the ground. BootHill’s breath is heavy and ragged as he has long lost his voice, crying out to you to keep awake, to hold on until you’re both back at the base, he has already contacted a doctor through a built in radio - why didn’t you listen?

Leftover footprints had long since been washed away, eradicating the proof of his attempts at keeping you alive, as if he never tried.

You had pleaded with him to slow down, he was jostling you too much, doing too much, and you never saw him this panicked. His eyes could barely handle looking at the red gushing out of your wounds and onto the cold iron of his body. He didn’t listen, and kept going, his feet leaping and swallowing the ground under him with sloppy expertise, kicking up rocks and mud before it could stick to him. One of his hands mussed up your nape, patting the skin and pushing your head closer against him until he could feel your breath on his actual skin - on what little he had to feel with.  “Just a little more, sugar-” he’d say, turn after turn, thunder growling behind him. Moments feel like minutes, and he swears he can run faster, but he can’t -

“BootHill, stop-!” he froze, his eyes escaping whatever daze his mind spun him into, darting to look at your begging ones. Tears or rain, it made your nose red and your lips quivered with the weight of your words. “Let me go..”  You breathed it out, cupping his cheek and turning him to face you, forcing him to feel the fleeting warmth of your palm, it prevented him from running. However, he doesn’t stop moving, he consciously, simply cannot, and for once his artificial body agrees with his organic one; and neither listens to your wishes for him to stop carrying you. “I-I can’t- are you crazy?!” he blurts out sharply, but his face betrays the anger of his tone, his eyes, as wide as yours, show the man crazed with fear of losing something precious beyond life itself. 

“No, no, move yer hands away, I can’t see” he grumbles with a tangible tension in his jaw, shaking his head, flicking raindrops from the tips of his hair. 

“Please..BootHill..I don’t want this sight to be my last-! Please, put me down” you argued, lungs feeling heavy and full of holes that let the rain in. They burned for life, for air, they sought to be engulfed in warmth of the space ship once more, to breathe in the metallic scent that fill the room as BootHill cleaned his iron from the rain. Just once more. But you knew such a future was only a dream behind your heavy lidded eyes that were harder to pry apart every blink.  “Please..just hold me..” you muttered with defeat in your tone, and perhaps it was that which stopped BootHill at long last, or the sight of the bridge that had been split and broken before him, with the raging wide river threatening to swallow the earth itself around it.

He slowly lowered himself to the ground, you in his lap, and his eyes bubbling up with what you could call tears. Translucent blue in color and greasy in texture, his tears fell for you. One metal and freezing hand goes on top of the biggest wound on your torso, pushing down to stop the bleeding. 

BootHill never felt more hopeless and useless than he did now. He tried and failed. And most heartbreaking of all, he didn’t protect you when he needed to. When he should have.

The rain fell harder after that. Your body absorbede the cold of it and grew heavier in his lap.

The wind howled over his head and went right through him too.

…..

Your face was the palest he had ever seen.

Your lips blue.

Eyes shut.

Hair slicked back with how many times he ran his fingers through it, keeping it from your face. Keeping you tidy.

You were limp and heavy, and you were still.. whole, as whole as you could be. He had cried all the tears he had within him, and he struggled to breathe for even longer. Feeling raw and more human than he did even before being turned into this walking machinery. 

You had held his face, and you apologized to him, and asked him to smile, you asked him to deliver you one more charming line - and he failed you in that too.

….

The silence was unbearable, and the cacophony even worse. Now, in the confined space of his ship, he cracked his voice raw open as he glared at the little hologram of the doctor that turned him into this walking tin can.

BootHill couldn’t stand the sound of his own voice that fluctuated higher with the flare of his anger, every sentence more distraught than the last. It got to the point the Doctor on the receiving end had gone silent as a grave, realizing the futility of trying to speak over BootHill. 

‘Bring them back’, he pleaded, hovering over the hologram, making himself feel greater, stronger, and more in control. 

‘If you could turn me into this with just ma head alone, you can help them as well!’ he argued, teeth grit together and showing off their points. Like a cornered dog he clawed and bit and held the last pieces of hope in his maw. ‘They’re whole, jus’ a few scratches-’ he added in haste, and the doctor began shaking his head.

‘Please, Doctor, you’ve gotta’ he stared at the flickering hologram, feeling something akin to acid rise in his throat, sick at the thought of denial. No, he wouldn’t give up on you. ‘Why not?! Because they’re not as loud as I am?! What is the reason?!’. He tried to argue and reason with the other man, and when he ran out of reasons he began to repeat the ones he already mentioned.

‘WHY NOT YOU IDIOT?!’ he shouted, now on his knees before the system table in front of him, the hologram now looking much larger than his own figure. His elbows still rested on the table and he felt like strangling the man in front of him through the hologram itself.

He could see the Doctor’s face fall, disappointed at best. And he heard him sigh. 

“BootHill. I can’t do it, and I won’t try it.”

The hologram flickered, and then went out, allowing the dark of the spaceship to swallow him whole. Trickles of oil began to seep through cracks in his metalwork, and more of his tears began to bubble up in his eyes. Like claws, his hands fell over his face, muffling a choked cry of anguish.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

-Tags: @prettyliliy @nvuy @lofasofabread @teanypaws @molotto

(I just tagged everyone who showed interest when I talked about this idea, pls lemme know if you don't want the tag/want to be removed from the post <3)

#boothill x reader #boothill x you #boothill x gn reader #boothill x y/n #boothill #boothill hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #angst #-n0tamused.angst #honkai star rail imagines #boothill imagines #drabble

[luciferlightbringer]

Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 11

Chapter 10|Chapter 11|Chapter 12|Updated through Chapter 12

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 5.8k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity, sexual tension, kissing, light teasing smut

Lucifer laid up in his bed the room up in the apple shaped penthouse that was made just for him at the upper left side of the hotel. He had made this room thinking he was be here more often, and then he stopped coming. The last few weeks may had been more tolerable if he had been here... Oh well, too late for that. Now he laid there thinking of the things the hotel people had said about you and him. Could there really be a way of fixing this?

Lucifer sighed, he was really trying not to get his hopes up. He wanted to be able to get a chance to fix things with you, pick things back up with you, if you would let him, he was willing to do practically anything to make things right with you. He'd fight 100 Adams and Alastors at the same time just for the chance to hold you again. But all he could do was lay there, in his bed, wondering if Charlie and Angel were talking to you. Would you be mad? Would you give him a chance to talk to you again? Would the report back from this exchange be the last he ever hears about you?

After what felt like hours, he heard a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Lucifer called out.

"Dad, it's me! Can I come in?" Charlie called from the other side of the door, Angel next to her and you a few steps back.

Your heart was racing, and hearing his voice on the other side of the door made it so much worse.

"Ya!" Lucifer yelled back, still staring at the ceiling. Charlie entered his room followed by Angel, you stayed outside of the door just out of view. "How did it go? Is she ok? Was she mad?" Lucifer asked Charlie and Angel, the pain laced in his voice was apparent. It broke your heart to hear it, but it made you feel less anxious to hear him prioritize concern for you. Care... as always.

"It went well, Dad, so well in fact... that we have someone here to see you," Charlie said, turning to the doorway.

Lucifer froze as he heard another pair of footsteps enter the room. He slowly sat up to meet your gaze, those beautiful (e/c) eyes, so full of their same gentleness and care, but also indescribable pain.

"(y/n)", he whispered, as if we was afraid that saying you name too loud might make you disappear.

You smiled, "Hi Lucifer," you said softly in return, his name sounded like music dripping from your lips. No malice, no anger, something... soft and beautiful, like you had been holding your breath for years and in saying his name you finally felt like you could exhale.

All you could do was stare at each other and take each other in. Charlie and Angel smiled at each other, then looked at you both as they started to back up.

"We'll just... give you too some space to talk," Charlie said, and then closed the door behind her and Angel. They pumped their fists with a quiet "Yes!" before running downstairs to tell the rest of the hotel crew what was going on.

You and Lucifer were now alone.

The air was tease and silent, neither of you knowing who should speak or make the first move.

At the moment you started to open your mouth, Lucifer moved to slip off the bed and onto his knees on the floor, hands on the ground in front of him and forehead pressed against his hands... bowing to you?!

"(y/n), darling... I... I'm sorry, I'm so... so sorry... Please... please believe when I say I don't remember what happened that night. I was drunk, I was nervous... I- I can't forgive myself for whatever I could hav-", Lucifer rambled as he started to shake as he kept his deep bow on the floor.

"Lucifer..." you say softly cutting him off, he jumped up a little, your voice suddenly being much closer than her expected. He looked up to see you on your knees in from of him, tears also starting to well in your eyes.

"You didn't hurt me that night," you said, tears starting to fall.

"I- I didn't?" he said through tears.

"No!" you cried, "I thought I had mad you mad and that's why you didn't call for me."

Lucifer's eyes went wide, "What?! No, of course not! I was so scared, I couldn't remember what happened that night and then I got a call from the Lounge that you were calling our appointments and I was banned from seeing you!"

"No! No, Lucifer I never banned you. You never hurt me, I- got scared, I was worried, you weren't acting like yourself, you were so drunk... you told me something... and I... I- I didn't know what to do... so I just ran! I ran and I disappeared for a little to figure things out. I came back and I waited, I waited and their was nothing! I thought you hated me and were done with me!"

"No! Never, never! Hells, Duckie, I've been a mess without you! I need you!" Lucifer cried. You and Lucifer were both a mess of hysterical tears at this point, and you collapsed into an embrace as you cried, reassuring each other through heavy sobs that you were not mad or upset at the other. It was a deep cry that you had both deeply needed in the arms of the other.

After several minutes, both of you started to calm down, tears still falling but now they were able to talk without heaving as hard through their sobs.

"So... what happened, exactly? Tell me your side of it all, please..." Lucifer finally choked out. You took a few more deep breaths before starting.

"You... you showed up at my apartment... you were drunk, stumbling, had a hard time teleporting. You were sweet but very touchy, you got more drunk and touchy as the night went on. I thought you were having a really bad day, then I thought you were nervous about may wanting to try being intimate again. But then... you told me something... something I didn't know how to respond to... I was scared about responding to it the wrong way, especially because you are the King and I am just a prostitute... I didn't know if you actually cared about me, even though it always felt like you really did, and the power dynamic was just so... confusing... so I pushed you away. I ran, I disappeared on a trip for a few days to think about things, to give us space in case... well, in case I had upset you... You were supposed to be told I was just on vacation for a few days... but it sounds like you were told something else... something to split us apart," you explained, looking down at Lucifer who was snuggled back into his old position in your lap. Lucifer nodded as he listened to your explanation. "I came back, and I waited for you to schedule... and you never did. I had no way to check in with you... and I didn't want to overstep in your life by expecting a real connection if I had just misread things, or going to the hotel to ask Charlie, especially because I wasn't supposed to tell anyone... I was just so confused."

Lucifer tightened his fists in his lap, what is it that he had told you that made you so scared? That would make you run but that had also apparently not hurt you. "I'm sorry I made you keep this a secret for so long, I didn't realize how much it was hurting you... both of us... I guess I just let my pride really get in the way, and that was stupid," Lucifer paused, "Whatever I told you that night... was it bad?" Lucifer asked looking up at you.

You took a deep breath, "It's ok, I understood why you wanted it to stay quiet, I never held that against you. And...no, not bad, but it did scare me. I didn't know what to think of it."

"Can... can you tell me what I said?" Lucifer asked with big worried eyes.

You thought for a moment, this was the part you were most scared of at this point. This is where everything could fall apart again. "Can you tell me your side of things first, before I do?"

Lucifer swallowed hard, not liking how you were dodging the question, but he nodded.

"Ok," Lucifer started, "I... was really nervous that day, for a while... I'd been wondering how much of your care was real versus an act. It hadn't felt like it had been fake for... well I mean it really had never felt fake. I remember... I wanted to ask you or tell you something related to that. I had talked to a friends about that earlier in the day..."

"Asmodeus?" you asked.

"Yes! Did I say something about him? About that conversation?" Lucifer asked.

"You said he started dating someone, but not to tell anyone. I never have," you replied.

'Wow, why was that the point I had brought up? I really was out of it,' he thought.

"Well, anyways, he encouraged me to talk to you, but I had a drink to calm myself down because I was so nervous, but one became two, became four became... way too many..." Lucifer continued sheepishly, "And then I couldn't remember the rest of the night, I woke up the next morning with a crazy hangover, trying to jog my memory, and then I got the call from the Lounge. They did tell me that you were on vacation... but then added that "the truth" was that you had put me on your ban list, that you had come back saying you "couldn't take this shit anymore" and that you were a good actor, that you were a heartbreaker, that you would "even break the King's heart if you had the chance".

You gasped and more tears welled up in your eyes, "Lucifer, it's not true! You have to believe me," you hugged Lucifer tightly in your lap, "That's not who I am, yes I can act, but I swear I haven't ever once lied to you!"

Lucifer held your face, "I know."

You stared down at him as tears rolled down your cheeks, "You do?"

He nodded, "I didn't in the moment, when the call happened, but the others did. Husk and Angel. The whole damn hotel sat me down to have an intervention to set me straight. I was still hesitant, but between your reaction now and them... I believe you. You do care about me, you always have."

"Yes, of course I care about you!" you say holding his face with one hand. Lucifer smiled and nuzzled his face into your hand.

"Lucifer, the person you talked to on the phone. Do you remember anything distinct about them? Their voice or the way they talked," you asked earnestly.

Lucifer thought, "I remember it was a feminine voice, very hissy ssssss sounds the entire time they talked."

You saw red, that was all the proof you needed.

"Cynthhhhia," you snarled. Lucifer's eyes widened, he had never seen you mad before.

"Who is Cynthia?" Lucifer asked, an edge in his voice.

"She is the biggest bitch at the Lounge, the girl I always talked about cutting down to size? That's her. She was on phone's that day as a punishment for hurting me the night I ran back to the Lounge," you seethed, "Larry must have stepped away and she must have a had enough time to slip you that lie..."

Lucifer sat up more in your lap, eyes turning red, "You think this Cynthhhhia bitch lied to get us apart? Why?"

"Yes... she always hated that I was getting paired with more "high rollers" as we would call them, well-off powerful people, she hated that I was more popular with customers than her... she must have taken the opportunity to sever our relationship to make me suffer..." you stopped as Lucifer got up from your lap stepping a few feet away from you breathing heavily with his hands balled into tight fists, "Lucifer?"

You watched as the air seemed to shake around him, his wings snapped out from his back and started to flap, his eyes burned with blind rage as this horns and tail erupted from his body, a flame appearing above his head, his claws growing large and sharp. Flame escaped from his mouth as with a demonic voice Lucifer bellowed, "HOW DARE THAT BITCH SEVER YOU FROM ME?! HER LIVE IS FOREFIT. I WILL GRIND HER BODY TO DUST. I WILL BEAT THE AFTERLIFE OUT OF HER. I WILL RIP HER APART WITH MY BARE HANDS AND FEED HER TO THE CANNIBALS. I FASHION HER FLESH INTO BOOTS. I WILL..."

You ran up and wrapped your arms around Lucifer's waist, the air stopped rumbling, his body started to relax, his flames dissipated, and he looked down at you with a softened eyes, still glowing.

"Lucifer please, I'm mad too... but please stay with me. She's not worth the energy! You can turn her into snake jerky boots tomorrow!" You say, clinging to him tightly, "I need you here now..."

Lucifer blinked back to his regular red eyes before letting himself drop back to the ground, wrapping his arms back around you, "I'm sorry, Duckie... I'm just so mad that one lie over a phone call caused so much pain for you and I..." he pulled away a little and cupped your face with one hand, "I just want to make her pay for what she has done to us."

"I do too," you say carding your fingers through his hair, "I'm sure the others would too, I'm looking at you readers, but... how about we ruin her day tomorrow. Ok? Let's not let her ruin this, she's not worth it."

Lucifer hummed into your touch and closed his eyes, allowing himself to revert back to his normal soft appearance, "Ok... on one condition," he said opening his eyes again to look into yours.

"What would that be?" you ask nervously.

"Tell me what it was that I told you. Please?" he asked with bright eyes.

You looked away briefly and then met his gaze again, you felt your face grow hot, "You sure? You're not going to get mad?"

Lucifer gave you a confused smile, "Why would I be mad at you for telling me something I said to you? Just... tell me." Lucifer still held you in a close embrace, looking into your eyes.

You breath deeply, and look down at Lucifer, "You... you told me that you loved me."

Both of your faces turned bright red as you starred at each other in tense silence.

'Are you shitting me? I told her I loved her while I was shit face plastered?! Fuck, ya... ok her reaction makes sense now' Lucifer thought.

"Oh... golly... haha... I can see why that might make you uncomfortable" Lucifer said looking away from you with a nervous laugh.

You look at Lucifer, noticing deep blush running across his pale cheeks, and smiled. You steeled yourself for the next question.

"Did you mean it?" you asked.

Lucifer looked up into your eyes, studying your face. This was the moment he had wanted so many weeks ago, this was how it was supposed to feel. Vulnerable, terrifying, but the only place he ever wanted to be. This was the moment that would change everything, but now, he knew she cared, this would not be the end of everything.

"Yes, (y/n), I love you. I've loved you for months."

You heart swelled with joy to hear him say it this time, and with him being sober and so nervous, all of your worries from the past didn't matter now. You couldn't keep your eyes from welling with tears of joy. You moved your hands up to Lucifer's face to hold his soft cheeks.

Lucifer sat in swirl of emotions as he watched you react to his statement, 'Does she... feel the same?'

"Well..." Lucifer got out, before freezing up, trying to figure out what to say.

You laughed, "I... I love you too, Lucifer."

Lucifer's eyes go wide, taking a moment to process your words, before he moves without thinking, pulling you in closer and pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss sent waves of electricity through both of your bodies. You had kissed a lot of people for work, but nothing had ever felt like this before. You felt gripped by a want to fuck Lucifer in a way you had never wanted to fuck someone before, you ached for him, you ached for only him. In that moment you were ruined for watching to touch another soul ever again. Your tongues explore each other's mouths, passionate and desperate, as if you both relied on the other to breath.

After a few minutes, you both break the kiss, pressing your foreheads together, breathing heavily.

"Fuck..." Lucifer heaved, "That was amazing... You are amazing."

You laugh, tracing a finger down Lucifer's chest, "Just wait til, I get me hands on the rest of you... If you want that... of course."

Lucifer's eye glazed over with pure lust as he looked you over, "Oh, Duckie... I have wanted nothing more than to rip your clothes off and take you to Heaven since the day I met you... but I don't want to be selfish and I feel like I would want to be. I want you to be mine, all mine, only mine," he purred into the skin of your neck. You tip your head back and let your eyes roll back with the pleasure of the sensory.

"Then you can, have me," you say. Lucifer gives you a look.

"I'm all yours, I'll quit the Lounge, move into the hotel like I wanted, and I will be only yours, if you'll have me," your eyes looked with Lucifer's.

He smiled, putting his forehead against yours, "I accept, you will be mine and I will be yours. Tomorrow, we will go down to Lounge, give them your 2 minute notice, and then... we make that little bitch Cynthhhhia rue the day she ever messed with us." Lucifer planted another long passionate kiss on your lips.

"But for now... I get the feeling that we may have some people downstairs that want to see the results of our conversation. What do you say?" Lucifer said, offering you his arm. You smile and take his arm, going out the door and making your way downstairs to the hoops and hollers of your hotel friends, especially when Lucifer kissed you again in front of all of them.

You spent the rest of the night partying and talking with the hotel crew until you grew tired. Then, Lucifer picked you up and took you up to his room in the hotel, where you and Lucifer fell asleep in either others arms again, the way you would every night from then on.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning, you wake up, tightly snuggled against Lucifer's chest, and you look up to see him unabashedly looking down with love filled eyed at you and running his fingers through your hair. He smiled warmly as your eyes met his.

"Good morning~" he cooed as he dipped his head down to kiss your lips. Your bodies moved closer to each other as you kissed, starting to get drunk off of the taste of the other. Your face and chest grew hot and red, until eventually Lucifer broke the kiss you hold your face, staring into each other's dilated eyes. Lucifer was pleased by the love drunk look on your face.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I would take you as a pent up, untouched virgin instead of a seasoned sex worker with the way you're reacting to a simple kiss," Lucifer says smugly, taking in the deep red tone of your cheeks and the glazed look of your eyes.

"Well... I mean... I may have had plenty of physical intimacy... but it's always been for money, survival... this, however~" you says as you pull him in for another deep, desperate kiss, hand running down the side of his body before stopping on his thigh, releasing him from the kiss while keeping your lips as close to his as possible without touching. "This is something completely different entirely... unbridled desire like I've never felt in life or death... and I'm famished," you whisper.

Lucifer swallowed hard, blinking hard as his own face burned red and he felt himself get more dizzy and love drunk on your words. "Fuck... oh, Duckie... I want to do... so... many... sinful things to you. I have for months... but I do think we should prioritize taking care of your status at the Lounge... and that bitch... Because I don't know about you, but..." Lucifer rolls on top of you, pinning you to the bed, lowering his head to be next to your ear, "when I finally get to fuck you... I want you to be mine. Only... mine... Don't you agree, my Apple?" he planned a soft kiss on your neck.

You're breathing was ragged, your heart pounded in your chest, you had never been so turned on in your life. You couldn't even speak, all you could do was nod.

Lucifer looked down at you, committing the image of your body beneath him to memory before sighing, chuckling a little, giving you a kiss on both checks and then on the lips before getting off of your and getting up to start getting dressed.

You had to take a minute to let yourself breath for a minute before getting up. Lucifer smuggly looked at you over his shoulder as he buttoned up his vest, "You doing ok over their~?" he cooed.

"Shut up," you say playfully. 'Fuckkkkkk', you thought, how was this the same man that wanted to be dominated so desperately the first night you met? Should have known he was a bratty switch. He was really proving his status as the Sin of Pride with that smug ass attitude this morning, and goooooodddd was it hot.

Eventually you did get out of bed and got dressed for the day, Lucifer giving you a longing look as you did. Before long, it was time for you and Lucifer to head to the Lounge, together. Others from the hotel had learned about the reason for the miscommunication and lack of contact with you during the celebration the night before and many people wanted to come with to watch the confrontation unfold. So soon, you, Lucifer, Charlie, Angel, Cherri, Niffty, and even Alastor, much to Lucifer's dismay, were ready to make your way out to the Entertainment District. Husk and Vaggie also wanted to go, but someone needed to stay behind and man the hotel, so they just asked for a play by play of the events when everyone returned.

"Ready everyone?" Lucifer called out before tapping his cane on the ground, opening a portal right in front of the Lounge. Lucifer offered you his arm, which you took before stepping out of the portal onto the street in front of your place of work, followed by all of your friends. Immediately upon stepping out onto the street, onlookers started to look, whispers, point, and take pictures as they saw the King with you on his arm, followed by the Princess, a famous Porn Star, and the Radio Demon, with Niffty and Cherri tagging along.

Lucifer opened the door to the Lounge and walked in, striding up to the front counter with you on his arm. Larry turned around to greet the new customers just to find himself facing the King of Hell and company.

"Y-your highness, with (y/n), and the Princess, Angel, t-the Radio Demon, and... uhhh," Larry stopped looking down at Niffty.

"Hi! I'm Niffty!" Niffty gave a sharp smile while waving a knife in her hand. "And I'm Cherri Bomb," she added.

Larry blinked looking at Niffty before looking back up at Lucifer, "Right... uhh... Your Majesty," he bowed, realizing the should have done that the first time. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? And with one of my girls," he said shooting you a quick 'What the hell is happening here?!' look.

"Haha, well! You must be Larry! Let me introduce myself to you my fine man. Hi," Lucifer says extending his hand to Larry, "I'm Lance", Lucifer said, darkening his eyes.

"Oh!" Larry said shaking his hand before the realization kicked in, "Oh..." he looked at you, then Lucifer, back to you, then back at Lucifer, "OOohhhhhhh...." Larry let go of Lucifer's hand, his body starting to shake a little.

Lucifer smirked and wrapped an arm around you, "We were wanting to talk to you able a... troubling customer service issue that miss (y/n) and I experienced a few weeks ago that interrupted my services with her... if you have the time that is..." Lucifer said with as smile in his face that did not reach his rage filled eyes.

Larry panicked, "Uh.. uhh yes! Of course! Uhhh... would you like to come back to my office or..."

"Oh, no, my good sir, out here is just fine," continuing his sharp smile, looking out at the sea of girls and customers watching the interaction with growing interest.

"O-Ok, ya sure," Larry clears his throat, "So, uhh... what seems to be the issue?"

"Well... you see... your associate here and I had not scheduled any appointments for the last few weeks due to a... concerning miscommunication issue. You see, while this one was out on her much deserved vacation, I was called and told that she was out for a few days... but then they corrected themself and told me I was banned from scheduling with her again... but that I was free to utilize the services of other girls," Lucifer said distain slowly slipping into his voice, his smile starting to strain.

Larry's expression changed from fear to frustration, "Oh... that is troubling, I can confirm that (y/n) did not express any desire to ban you, sir. I apologize... I had no idea that happened... You... wouldn't happen to know who it was that you talked to that day, would you?"

"I didn't catch a name, but it was someone with a feminine voice and elongated "S"s.... kinda... serpentine sounding. You... wouldn't happen to know of anyone on your staff that would fit that description... would you?" Lucifer said, his smile now fully flat with half opened, unenthused eyes.

Larry balled his hands into fits, "As a matter of fact, your highness... I do... I'll... be... right back..." Larry made his way to the back to find the girl that matched the description, the sea of people parting as he lumbered through.

Lucifer looked up at you and winked, "Showtime" he mouthed to you. You smiled back at him as you started to hear the familiar screams of Cynthhhhia as Larry dragged her up to the front lobby, tossing her on the floor in front of Lucifer and you.

"AAHHHHH!!! Larry what the fuck! I wasssss in the the middle of a sssssession! What's the big ide-" Cynthhhhia finally looked up to Lucifer and you standing in front of her, glaring down at her, with his arm around your waist at his side. "Ohhhhh! Y-your highness, itssssss and honor, w-wha-what is thisssss all about?" She tried to smile at him, here eyes darting to you and to the others watching around the room.

"Apparently, a few weeks ago, you had a little of a communication issue with Mr. Morningstar here, or should I say... Mr. Lance... Care to explain, Cynthhhhia?" Larry hissed through clenched teeth.

"Lance, wha-" Cynthhhhia finally remembered, she now looked at you, then Lucifer, back to you, then him. Then she looked back at Larry, then around the room, to Charlie and Angel, then back to Lucifer. In that moment, she didn't not understand how this happened, but she knew she was absolutely fucked.

"Well... I feel like you already know... but I'll just ssssay it. I lied, I lied to Lanc-Lucifer... about (y/n)'sssss vacation, I had no one around ssssso I told him he had been banned, he didn't ask any questionsssss and didn't try sssssscheduling another appointment... Ssssso I reported that I had called and that he would call back to ressssschedule... I thought I was in the clear..." Cynthhhhia said looking at the ground, then looked up again, "I guess there were sssssome factorsssss that I didn't not account for.."

"Ya! Like us!" Angel added.

"Like her developing friendships and bonds during her time with my dad that cared to ask why she was not around anymore, and we figured out that these two had two very different understandings of why they were not able to see the other," Charlie said with a triumphant smile, gesturing to her dad and you.

"Cynthhhhia, why would you do this?" Larry asked coldly.

Cynthhhhia hissed, "For the same reason as alwaysssss, I hated her sssssuccesssss! I saw a chanccccce and I took it. The real question issss, why did you all care sssssso much. She's is just a ssssstupid, ssssselfish, fake, whore!"

In an instant, Lucifer's demon form emerged, horns, wings, red eyes, tail and all, and he flicked his sharp tail to her neck, lifting her head to meet his gaze, "Because my dear, ssssssweet, idiot," he spat, "She is actually none of those things. She is the kindest, sweetest, warmest, most loving, and selfless woman I have ever met, and because of that... I fell in love with her."

The room gasped, including Cynthhhhia and Larry. "You're little stunt simply caused us to be apart before we could talk it out. Thanks to my daughter, we figured it out, we figured you out. So now... my question for both of you is... how do we rectify this.. little problem? This certainly caused myself and my love much grief over the last few weeks, and it sounds like this putrid snake was causing my dear problems long before that at this establishment... and I simply cannot let that stand," Lucifer said, starring daggers into Cynthhhhia's soul.

"Well uhhh... as far as I can control... Cynthhhhia is fired from my establishment and will be backlisted from every brothel and porn studio in the Pride Circle effect of immediately, she will be kicked out of housing with us, and I will turn a blind idea to anything that becomes of her outside of this establishment... Does that seem fair?" Larry asked. Cynthhhhia seethed on the ground.

Lucifer smiled, "A good start but not enough, there is more I will require, and I have a list of demands."

Larry shifted uncomfortably, "Of course your highness, what would those be?"

Lucifer looked at you and smiled, "I request the release of (y/n) from her work contract here, as well as her housing contract," Lucifer looked back at Larry, "She will not be needing to be here anymore now that she is with me."

Larry made a displeased face, and looked at you "Is this what you want Babydoll?"

You nodded, "It has nothing to do with you, Larry, you have been good to me..." you look to Lucifer and the others, "I just finally found where I belong... and I need to see where this goes."

Larry nodded, "Consider it done. I'll miss you, kid."

Lucifer nodded, "Well..." he clapped his hands, " I guess we are done here then! Duckie, I will have your stuff taken out of your old room and moved to the hotel. As for you," Lucifer said looking down at Cynthhhhia, who was on the floor trying to crawl away, but froze in place when addressed, "We are not quiet through with you." Lucifer wrapped his tail around her waist and pulled her along as he walk out the door, followed by the other hotel crew and some interested patrons and girls.

Cynthhhhia screamed as she was dragged and tossed out onto the street in front of Lucifer and the others.

Lucifer looked to you with a slight bow, gesturing towards Cynthhhhia, "My darling, would you like to do the honors?" he purred.

You shrugged, "I don't really wanna touch her, but I'll start her off," you say stretching your arms as you walked towards her.

Cynthhhhia cowered and pleaded with you, you wound up your arm and slugged Cynthhhhia in the face, sending her flying back several feet. You were met with a crowd of cheers and yelps, Lucifer nodded approvingly at your punch. Lucifer next rolled up his sleeves and pummeled her into the ground a few dozen times before getting up staying he had enough. Cynthhhhia was still conscious, but barely.

Lucifer then offered the chance up to the rest of the crew. Niffty ran up and gave her a few quick stabs, then to your surprise, Alastor stepped forward with a sinister grin on his face. You and Lucifer gave each other a confused look, then looked back at him.

"Now Cynthhhhia, darling, as much as I enjoyed seeing how much torment your little stunt caused, I do say I that I am not very fond of how it impacted the overall morale of the hotel, and I simply cannot have that," Alastor said as his horns and body started to grow larger and more sinister, his face turning more into the radio face you had seen it become before in battle. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I'm going to need to make an example out of you, to show everyone what happened when you mess with the Hazbin Hotel and it's residents. And besides! ...my radio broadcast has been in need of some new screams!" Alastor laughed maniacally before engulfing Cynthhhhia in his mystical black tentacles and carried her off to be ripped apart and have her screams added to his collect on his broadcast.

You and the other's starred off after Alastor in horror as he took of with Cynthhhhia. "Wow..." you said, "That uhhh... that was not the ending to her I expected. But I'll take it!" You smiled looking at Lucifer who smiled and rolled his eyes. He then grabbed your waist, pulling you into a dip and kissed you deeply for all of Hell to see.

"Come on," he said breaking from the kiss, "Lets get you home."

Home.

You liked the sound of that.

______________________________________________________________

One last chapter I think! And IT.WILL.HAVE.SMUT. xoxo, dany As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! xoxo, dany (OMG there are so many of you!😍 Please let me know if the tag isn't working for you) Taglist :(red names are not tagging for some reason 😢) @froggybich @wonderlandangelsposts @glowinthedarkbones1150 @marydragneell @crescent-z @superdinosaurnacho @jam0001 @kyo-kyo1 @so-get-this-sammy @lilzebeth @kelppsstuff @loquacious-libra @pinkhoneydrop @luleck @writer-girl99 @lavenz @stormz369 @littleladydemon @soujiswife @melday0105 @luluxx118 @sseleniaa @futureittomainn @cktkat @zaneyyyy @uravitsy @liecoris @starlitvenus @hannahrose130 @elleofdragons @butch-medusae @concentratedconcrete @erosamasan @stranger-chan @aquaamethyst96 @lxkeee @holyspacething @hulyenl @leximus98 @lu-ferri12 @mixplara @katnisspeetaprim @rebecca-hvnstn @roboticsuccubus83 @nekemewlita @femboyfatalle @thelethex @cryptidghostgirl @snowlotr @bangchansdirty-slut @glowymxxn @mcueveryday @hotvillianapologist @oneiric-rotaerc @wolfdaddyalphasworld @sleepypottersworld @wisterialagoon @theredviolets @theperfectmangovoid @lemonmoonmochi @sapphireravensworld @ezi0724 @undertalephanjackandmark-blog

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[laurenairay]

hopeless hearts just passing through - J. Hughes

This my entry for @wyattjohnston’s low-key lovefest 2k24 prompt list challenge. I chose “stop making promises you aren’t going to keep” from the angst list and “you’re the only person I wanted to see tonight” from the fluff list.

Summary: Jack had messed up, again. Can he make it up to you this time, or is it too late?

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: light angst, Jack being a dumbass, some bad language, fluff

Title from: I was made for loving you, by Tori Kelly

~

Thursday 28th December

[7.00pm] You’ve reached Jack. I’m obviously not here right now so leave me a message after the beep.

[7.25pm] You’ve reached Jack. I’m obviously not here right now so leave me a message after the beep.

[8.00pm] You’ve reached Jack. I’m obviously not here right now so leave me a message after the beep.

“Hey Jack, guess you’ve forgotten our call. Again. By now you probably have other plans tonight? Just… please give me a call when you listen to this.”

~

Friday 29th December

Morning came without a phone call. You didn’t know whether you were surprised or not, if you were being honest – this wasn’t the first time he’d forgotten to call you while on the road like he promised he would. This time though it felt different. Maybe it was because the two of you had spent a wonderful happy Hannukah & Christmas together only days before that hurt you the most. Maybe it was just because you believed Jack when he promised. Either way, this time you couldn’t let it go – it was a matter of principle.

You made it through your entire morning routine, getting washed and dressed for work, eating breakfast, packing your lunch into your work bag, before your phone started to ring. Jack. You glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall, wincing as you slipped into your shoes and grabbed your hooded coat, bag and keys on the way out the door. You weren’t going to be late, not for him.

“I’m on my way to work, I really can’t talk right now.”

You answered bluntly, pinning your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you put on your coat the moment you stepped into the elevator.

“I am so sorry baby.”

Really?

“That’s really all you have to say?” you snapped, picking your work bag up off the floor now that you’d zipped up your coat.

“What else can I say?”

You were stunned for a moment, lips parting. The nerve of this guy.

“Oh I don’t know, how about what you’re actually sorry for?” you said, the sarcasm in your voice barely hiding your anger.

You heard him huff out a breath, perfectly in time with the elevator doors opening on the ground floor of your apartment building.

“I’m sorry I missed our call. I know I promised to call you but I just totally forgot. The guys were all excited about a mario kart tournament and I really wanted Luke to finally get in on the action!”

“Please don’t blame your brother for your mistakes.”

Jack inhaled sharply over the phone. You could almost picture his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of something to say, just as he usually did in person, so you just waited for him to speak as you trudged down the street to your usual bus stop.

“I’m sorry. For blaming Luke and for upsetting you. It won’t happen again, baby, I promise.”

Yeah, okay. As if that was the first time he’d said that.

“Stop making promises you aren’t going to keep,” you said sharply.

Jack was silent for a moment or two.

“What do you mean?”

His voice sounded so small, so quiet, like he finalised realised the depth of how badly he’d screwed up. Good.

“You know what I mean, Jack. I’m not asking for the world – I know your team will always be priority. I’m just getting sick of never even crossing your mind at all. Even a text to say a mario kart tournament had started last minute would’ve been better than being fucking ghosted by my own boyfriend,” you groaned.

Thankfully there was no-one else at the bus stop to hear your cursing.

“Baby, please, I can do better. I will do better.”

He was clearly panicking, voice full of desperation with whatever he was reading from your own voice. But you just sighed, not really sure what to say because this wasn’t the first time so would it really be the last? Could you really believe him?

Before you could think of an answer to his pleading, your bus came into view as it turned the corner onto your road. Clearly this was a sign.

“I have to go, my bus is here,” you said softly.

“No baby, wait please, I-”

You ended the call without letting him finish, already feeling a headache coming on as the anger washed out of you. This was the last thing you needed after the heartache of last night – his panicked pleading. It wouldn’t help his case when he was so far away, not when you were this frustrated with him. The best thing for you to do, rather than tumbling into saying something you would regret, would be to give yourself some space, some breathing room.

Something that Jack clearly didn’t agree with as he immediately called your phone again.

Thankfully the bus pulled up right at that moment, so you felt justified in ignoring him, slipping your phone into your pocket as you flashed the driver your bus pass, focusing on finding a seat for your commute.

It was all you could do to keep your face neutral, trying to ignore the overwhelmed tears stinging at your eyes as your phone continued to buzz for most of your journey.

~

As you suspected, your morning at work was terrible. Not only did your mild headache turn into a fully formed one, but you were clearly giving off ‘leave me alone’ vibes because your colleagues steered clear, leaving you to stew in your emotions in peace. Not even a walk outside during your lunch break did any good – you still had a headache, the food you packed was so-so, and you had three emails to deal with that were really not your problem.

Didn’t people know that sending emails between Christmas and New Year was pointless?

“Hey, you’ve got a delivery.”

You jerked your head up from your computer to see your office receptionist standing next to you with a gigantic bouquet of flowers – white and pink roses, to be precise, around three dozen. What the hell?

“Uh, thanks,” you murmured, forcing a quick smile as she passed the bouquet over.

You tried desperately to ignore the whispers and stares around you as you spotted a card. Really you knew there was only one person who would send you flowers, but you still opened the small envelope with shaking hands anyway.

‘I’m sorry. Jack xx’

A simple message but it still made your heart ache.

That, and it made your lingering headache pound more. This was so typical Jack, wanting to do some sort of grand gesture which in technicality was very sweet but also so not what you needed right now. You didn’t need the reminder that things were shaky between you two. You didn’t need the stares and attention from your colleagues, all of them now knowing that something was wrong from your reaction. And you didn’t need to carry the bouquet home on the bus with you, the unresolved tension between you and Jack hanging over you like an axe.

Or, well, like a bouquet of 36 flowers, bigger than your head.

“Oh honey, what did he do?”

You winced at the pitying voice of your colleague, smiling sadly as you shook your head.

“I’d really rather not talk about it,” you said softly.

She nodded, smiling sadly back.

“Well if you change your mind, message me and we’ll go for coffee,” she said, voice quiet, trying to give you a modicum of privacy.

You just nodded, thanking her quietly in response, and she left with a squeeze of your shoulder. She meant well, you knew she did, and hopefully this interaction would stop anyone else (especially those who loved to stir drama) from approaching you too.

It was all you could do to put the flowers on the side of your desk, trying to ignore everything they represented. You had work to do – thinking about Jack right now was not going to do you any good.

When your phone buzzed a couple of hours later though, you still read the messages that Jack sent, one after another coming in.

~

[3.22pm]

From: Jack I got an email saying the flowers had been delivered. I chose white and pink roses to symbolise how much I love you and my loyalty and how sorry I am. I know that I messed up and I understand why you’re upset with me. But please give me a second chance?

~

He'd looked up flower symbolism. He specifically chose white and pink roses because of their meaning. What were you supposed to do with something so romantic when you were this frustrated with him?

Fuck.

With a sigh you pulled up the Devils schedule on your phone, confirming the date in your mind that he’d be back from his roadtrip. He was still in Ottawa today and then Boston tomorrow…but he would be back on New Year’s Eve. You could work with that.

~

[3.35pm]

To: Jack The flowers are beautiful. Thank you. I am still upset with you, but I will hear you out. If you want to talk, come to mine on NYE. I have no plans.

~

The two of you hadn’t discussed any parties or plans at all for New Year’s Eve, even though you had assumed Jack would’ve dragged you somewhere in the end. But this was better. You needed time alone with him because there was no way you could face him for the first time after all this while surrounded by other people. Putting the ball in his court was the only way to keep your sanity at this point.

With another sigh you put your phone down, raking a hand through your hair as your eyes lingered on the colourful blooms on your desk. They really were beautiful.

You weren’t surprised when it took mere minutes before your phone buzzed again.

~

[3.37pm]

From: Jack I’ll be there. I promise.

~

Saturday 30th December

[11.15pm]

To: Jack Sorry about the loss. You’ll get the Bruins next time.

~

[11.20pm]

From: Jack Thanks ❤️

~

Sunday 31st December

You hadn’t spoken to Jack since texting him after yesterday’s defeat. Mostly because you knew he was travelling, but also because you knew that him coming over to yours tonight was when you really needed to speak.

For some reason you were a little nervous. You didn’t know what it was really that had you furiously cleaning your apartment, but those fizzing bubbles ran all through your body the whole day. It didn’t help that you had no idea what time Jack would come over. Assuming he was still coming over, that was. No, he had promised, and he knew how you felt about promises. At least you hoped he had learned his lesson on how you felt because you weren’t sure of how much more you could take.

Tonight had to be your deciding factor on protecting your heart, you knew that much.

When you’d scrubbed and rearranged and hoovered all that you could, you showered and dressed up in a comfortable black velvet tea dress, curled your hair and put on a little make-up before putting some wine in the fridge to chill. It was New Year’s Eve after all, and you knew that if Jack didn’t turn up by 9pm, your friends had insisted that you go over to theirs to celebrate the new year together. It felt good to know that you had a safety net because if Jack didn’t show tonight? You were done. And you knew you’d need the support of your friends to get you through.

Fuck.

You really hoped he showed up.

When it got to 6pm, you put some soft music on, hoping to drown out the silence of your apartment, feeling like an idiot for just sitting around waiting for him. What if he didn’t show up? What if he let you down again? What if this was the end of your relationship? What if…

Bzzzzz

The buzzer for your apartment crashed through your swirling thoughts and you quickly jumped to your feet, cheeks heating with how ridiculous you felt.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. Can you let me up?”

Jack. He came.

You didn’t answer, just pressed the button to let him in, trying to keep yourself calm as you paced to and forth while you waited for him to take the elevator up to your apartment. In all reality it didn’t take long, but after the last few days it felt like a lifetime.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

You huffed out a laugh at your awkward greetings, stepping aside to let him in.

“Thanks, uh, for inviting me over,” Jack said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Wasn’t sure what time you would come. Or what you were doing tonight,” you murmured, shutting the door behind him.

Jack groaned, walking further into your apartment, you following silently. “I should’ve texted. Fuck, I should’ve told you exactly what time I was coming over, but I got so caught up trying to find the right thing to wear and dropping Luke off early at Nico’s and…”

Oh bless his heart. He was going straight into it then.

His rant trailed off as you pressed a finger to his lips, responding to your amused smile with a shy one of his own.

“You look great, Jack – you always do,” you said simply, dropping your hand back to your side, “But I actually meant if you had other plans around this like parties you were going to go to.”

Jack immediately shook his head, face more serious than you’d ever seen it.

“You’re the only person I wanted to see tonight,” he said firmly.

Oh fuck. Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, Jack taking the chance to hold both of your hands.

“I messed up. I know I messed up. I haven’t been treating you with the respect you deserve and missing even one call with you without letting you know why is unacceptable…”

Wow. This was far more than you had ever expected from him, and your heart ached with the emotion he was putting into his thoughts. Maybe he’d rehearsed this with Luke, maybe he was winging it, but you could tell in his eyes that he meant every word. He was right – you hadn’t been respected like you deserve. Could he really turn himself around though?

“…I really am sorry, baby. I love you so much and I can’t bear the thought of losing you. Please, will you forgive me?”

The confidence in his voice wavered a little, voice cracking with the emotion of his words, and you felt a pang radiate through your chest. You’d never seen him look so vulnerable before. Maybe you needed to see it.

As you formed your thoughts, you kept your hands in his, squeezing to let him know you were processing so he didn’t panic or shut down. That was the last thing you wanted or needed. This was a lot, and it was important that you said what you really meant.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to dive straight into this.”

Jack winced slightly, lips parting, but you shook your head. No, it was your turn now.

“You really hurt me, Jack. I appreciate that you understand that, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I was hurt. I don’t ask for much and you couldn’t even give me the bare minimum,” you started.

The whimper that escaped from his throat just about broke your heart, but you barrelled on.

“I deserve more. I deserve better. I deserve respect, you’re right. I just…I really hope you’re the one that can give that to me,” you said softly.

As your words sunk in, a hopeful smile quickly spread across his face.

“I get a second chance?” he grinned, making you huff out a laugh.

“Yeah, Jack, you do. But you won’t get a third. I don’t like feeling like I don’t matter and you can’t do that again,” you said, hoping he understood how serious you were.

Jack nodded, squeezing your hands.

“I won’t let you down, baby. I almost lost you once by being a careless asshole, I won’t lose you again,” he said, smiling.

Oh how that smile gave you butterflies.

“I love you,” he said again.

It didn’t matter how long you’d been together or how many times he said it – hearing those words fall from his lips made your heart race every single time.

“I love you too,” you said, finally smiling back.

Jack whooped, throwing his head back in celebration, making you burst out in laughter, even more so as he dropped your hands to wrap his arms around your waist, picking you up to spin around in a circle. Ridiculous, ridiculous man.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You just clutched at his shoulders as he murmured the words over and over again in your ear, hoping that this time, his words would be true.

#my writing #jack hughes fic #lowkey lovefest 2k24 #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine

[permanentswaps]

The Cursed Hunk, Pt. 5

Read Part 1 and Part 2 by @manswaps and Part 3 and Part 4 by me.

Marcus's POV

Frantically, I pushed through the throngs of people, my eyes scanning every face. The pulsating lights and booming music made it nearly impossible to concentrate. I felt a surge of desperation. This was supposed to be a simple swap—how had everything gone so wrong?

After what felt like an eternity, I finally spotted Seth’s body again. He was at the bar, chatting and laughing with some people. I rushed over, my anger and fear propelling me forward.

"Hey!" I shouted over the music, grabbing his arm. "We need to talk. Now."

He turned to me, and for a moment, there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes before a sly smile spread across his face. "Ah, the cutie is back. What can I do for you?"

"Cut the crap," I hissed, pulling him away from the bar. "I know you're not Jared. Who the hell are you?"

He shrugged, seemingly unbothered. "Name's Derell. And who might you be? I gather this body wasn’t yours."

"Marcus," I said through gritted teeth. "And you need to give Seth's body back. Now."

Derell laughed, a deep, mocking sound that grated on my nerves. "Why would I do that? I quite like this body. It's young, it's hot, and it's full of energy. Much better than what I had before."

I stared at him, disbelief mixing with my frustration. "You can't just take someone else's body. This isn't right!"

He leaned in closer, his expression darkening. "Listen, Marcus. My old body was muscular and hot, but its past its prime. And now instead of being a dom daddy, I can be the twink bottom that gets dominated all the time. Forgive me if I'm not eager to give up on this fantastic opportunity."

The hopelessness of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. This guy was serious, and I had no idea how to fix this. I needed help, but who could I turn to?

Just then, a hand clapped down on my shoulder. I turned to see a hot, muscular bouncer staring down at us. "Is there a problem here?" he asked, his voice stern.

I glanced at Derell, who was watching the bouncer warily. Maybe this was my chance. "Yes," I said quickly. "This guy has stolen my friend's body. We need help."

The bouncer's eyebrows shot up, clearly skeptical. "Stolen his body? What are you talking about?"

"It's true," I insisted. "There's some weird body-swapping thing going on, and this guy has taken my friend's body. We need to get it back."

The bouncer looked between us, clearly unsure what to believe. "Body swapping? That's some sci-fi shit right there."

"I know it sounds crazy," I said desperately. "But it's the truth. Please, you have to believe me."

Derell rolled his eyes. "This is ridiculous. I don't know what this guy is talking about."

The bouncer sighed, shaking his head. "Alright, enough of this nonsense. You need to leave the premises now."

The bouncer's grip tightened on my arm as he started to pull me away from the bar. "You're causing a scene," he said sternly. "Let's go."

I glanced back at Derell, who took a leisurely sip from his drink and smirked, waving mockingly as I was dragged through the throng of people. The frustration and anger boiled within me, but I couldn't do anything as the crowd swallowed him up.

Once we were outside, I desperately tried to convince the bouncer not to kick me out. "Please, you have to believe me," I said, breathless. "I'm serious about the body swapping. I can prove it."

The bouncer crossed his arms, looking more amused than convinced. "And how exactly are you going to prove something like that?"

"Swap with me," I blurted out. "Just for a few minutes. Then you'll understand."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You really expect me to believe that? Alright, let's say I humor you. What do we need to do?"

"Just agree to it," I said. "Out loud. That's all it takes."

"Alright, fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "I agree to swap bodies with you."

"And I agree to swap bodies with you," I echoed, my heart pounding.

There was a strange sensation, a tingling that started at my fingertips and spread through my entire body. I blinked, and suddenly, I was looking down at myself. The bouncer's body was heavy and powerful, and I could feel the immense strength coursing through it.

"Holy shit," the bouncer—now in my body—said, looking down at his new form. "You weren't kidding."

"I told you," I said, marveling at the deep, resonant voice that came out of my—his—mouth. The bouncer's body was buzzing with energy, a raw, physical power that was exhilarating.

He looked at me—at his old body—and smirked. "This body's got a lot of pent-up energy," he said, his eyes darkening with a lustful gleam.

I swallowed hard, feeling a surge of arousal that was almost overwhelming. "Yeah," I admitted, my voice shaky. "It does."

He stepped closer, his hands trailing over his—my—chest, exploring the contours of the body I now inhabited and playing with his jewelry. "You mind if I...?"

I shook my head, my mind torn between the urgent need to find Derell and the intense sensations flooding my borrowed body. The anticipation and desire coursing through me were too intense to ignore.

He didn't need any further encouragement. His hands were rough but confident as they explored every inch of his new body, and I couldn't help but respond to his touch.

As he took control, guiding us both into a private corner, I struggled to maintain focus. "Wait," I said, my voice trembling. "We need to find Derell. I can't stay like this."

He paused, his eyes locking onto mine. "You sure? You seem to be enjoying this."

I looked into his eyes, the desire in them mirroring my own. The club, the mission to find Derell, everything else faded into the background. The raw physicality of the bouncer's body was too powerful to resist. I gave in, nodding slowly. "You're right," I said, the words barely a whisper. "I do want this."

Derell’s POV

As Marcus was dragged away by the bouncer, I couldn't help but smirk. I turned back to the bar, savoring the taste of my drink and scanning the room for my next move.

It didn’t take long for me to spot him: a super hot otter in his early 30s, dancing near the edge of the crowd. Muscular, with a mischievous glint in his eye and a grin that promised all sorts of fun. Perfect.

I made my way over, slipping through the crowd with ease, my new body drawing all the attention I could ever want. When I reached him, I leaned in close, letting my voice drop to a seductive tone. "Hey there, having a good time?"

He turned to face me, his grin widening. "Hey yourself. Yeah, it’s been a pretty good night. You?"

"Just got a whole lot better," I replied, letting my gaze linger on his toned body. "How about we make it even better together?"

He laughed, a playful, inviting sound. "I like the way you think. I'm Adrian, by the way."

"Jose," I said smoothly, deciding on the spot that it fit this new body better than Seth. "Nice to meet you, Adrian."

We danced for a while, the music pulsing around us, our bodies moving in sync. The heat between us was palpable, an electric connection that promised an unforgettable night. As the minutes passed, the desire to leave the crowded club and find somewhere more private grew stronger.

"Want to get out of here?" I whispered in Adrian’s ear, my breath hot against his skin.

He nodded eagerly. "Thought you'd never ask."

With a final glance around the club, I took Adrian’s hand and led him through the throng of people. We slipped out a side door, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stifling heat inside. The city streets were alive with the usual nightlife, but my focus was entirely on Adrian.

"Where to?" he asked, his eyes shining with anticipation.

"Your place," I suggested, the idea of new surroundings adding to the thrill. "If that’s alright with you."

"Perfect," he said, a grin spreading across his face. "It’s just a few blocks from here."

We walked quickly, excitement building with every step. Adrian kept stealing glances at me, his interest clear. When we finally reached his apartment, he wasted no time pulling me inside, the door closing with a definitive click behind us.

Inside, the atmosphere shifted from playful to intense. Adrian pressed me against the wall, his lips capturing mine in a searing kiss. I responded with equal fervor, my hands roaming over his body.

He pulled back slightly, eyes dark with desire. “You have no idea how fucking sexy you are,” he growled.

I grinned, my fingers trailing down his chest. "Then what are you waiting for?"

With a sexy chuckle, he led me back into the bedroom.

He threw me down onto the bed with a force that made my heart race. The intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine as he climbed on top of me. His hand gripped my throat, holding me in place as he leaned in, his breath hot against my skin.

"You're mine tonight," he growled, his voice dripping with dominance.

I nodded, my breath hitching with anticipation. "All yours," I managed to whisper.

Without wasting any more time, he thrust into my mouth, filling me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, and I fought to keep up with his pace. Each movement was deliberate, his control absolute. My eyes watered, but the raw passion in his gaze spurred me on.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled back, his breathing heavy. "Ready for more?" he asked, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Yes," I gasped, my voice trembling with need.

His eyes never left mine as he lined up, ready to thrust into me. The moment he entered, a gasp escaped my lips. The feeling of him inside me was electric, every nerve in my body on fire.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," he groaned, his hands gripping my hips tightly.

He didn’t stop there. With a display of strength that took my breath away, he picked me up, holding all my weight in his arms. He fucked me with an intensity that bordered on primal, each thrust driving deeper, hitting all the right spots. The sensation of being suspended, completely at his mercy, was intoxicating.

It struck me then how impossible this would have been in my old, beefy body. Adrian would never have been able to lift me like this, to hold me with such ease. The realization added a new layer to the thrill, the pleasure heightened by the freedom and lightness of my new form.

"Oh God, Adrian," I moaned, my head falling back in ecstasy.

"You like that?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.

"Yes, don’t stop," I begged, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

The night stretched on, filled with the sound of our shared passion. In that moment, nothing else mattered. I was exactly where I wanted to be, lost in the heat and thrill of the encounter.

As our movements became more frantic, he whispered against my ear, "You’re such a good boy Jose."

Adrian's pace quickened, his breaths turning into ragged gasps. I could feel him getting closer, the tension building to an inevitable climax. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside me. The feeling of his cock pulsing as he came inside me was overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure through my entire being.

The most incredible part was that he did all of this while still holding me in his arms, my entire weight supported by his strength. The sensation of being suspended, completely at his mercy, combined with the raw power of his climax, was almost too much to handle.

"Fuck," he groaned, his body shuddering against mine as he emptied himself inside me. The sensation of his hot release filling me was the final push I needed.

"Cum for me," Adrian ordered, his voice commanding. "I want to feel you lose it while I'm still inside you."

The pressure, the pleasure, and the sheer intensity of the moment sent me over the edge. My own orgasm ripped through me, my body tensing and shaking as I came hard, my cum splashing between us.

He held me there for a moment, both of us catching our breath. Then, with a satisfied sigh, he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting mine. "You were incredible," he said, a lazy smile spreading across his face.

I grinned back at him, still riding the high of our intense encounter. "So were you," I replied, my voice soft and content.

Fuck yeah taking this kid's body was definitely the right choice.

[jinwoosungs]

{ 132 }

crush, crush, crush.

megumi fushiguro x fem.reader

no curses | college au.

{ and i'm like, yeah | everything you heard is true | everybody knows i'm hung up on you. }

much like half of the female population of students that attended this university, you had a crush on megumi fushiguro.

something about him was just so appealing to you (and many others). from his deep, emerald green eyes to the way his spiked hair fell across his pale face.

his full lips were often seen set in a permanent scowl, indicating his absolute disdain for something-

and his deep voice was painted in nonchalant tones, as if nothing in the world could ever bother him-

but it was enough to fuel your desire to get closer to him.

being somewhat of a smart cookie, you ended up sharing quite a few classes with the enigmatic megumi. from ethics to advanced calculus, you were honestly just happy enough to be in his presence.

because you knew that the chances of megumi returning your feelings were slim to none, that didn't stop you from doing something a little silly (and quite stupid, really) to get closer to him.

in your advanced calculus class, you purposely failed a sequence of pop quizzes, each and every one of them serving to be like a test drive before the real deal: the first exam worth nearly 20% of your final grade.

your professor, feeling exasperated on your depressingly low averages, finally decided to enlist the help of the student who consistently scored a 100% on every assignment and pop quiz-

megumi.

she calls you to the front of her desk while stopping megumi from leaving the classroom. megumi's eyes were furrowed in confusion, and you did your best to put on a sad face, jutting your lips out in a disappointed pout and all.

"fushiguro, you're one of the best students in my class- actually, you're the only one who has ever had consistently high scores on my homework and quizzes."

your professor gestures over to you, all while saying your name with a disappointed sigh. "she needs your help. her scores have been embarrassingly low, and i'm afraid if this continues, she will not have a chance to pass this class and may need a retake. so please, when it's still early in the semester, can you help her?"

you take this chance to meet with megumi's gaze, seeing them flash with an unknown emotion for a brief moment before returning back to his blank, emotionless gaze. he places a hand within the pocket of his jeans, looking away from you to see each one of your written quizzes spread out against your professor's desk.

you had to fight back the heat against your cheek when his bored, emerald gaze looked at the 0's written in a deep red ink, the anger and disappointment your teacher felt for you seeming to create a harsh dent, with each bold x seen scattered across the problems on the papers, nearly ripping through each sheet.

"so, as you can see, i don't wish for this student to be a hopeless case. if things go well, the highest grade she can make is a 70. but... i'll allow it if you can help her."

without another word needing to be spoken, megumi gives the professor a stiff nod before collecting your quizzes together in a single, neat stack. he meets with your gaze and says a simple "follow me." before walking out of the classroom.

and despite how you could feel your heart pounding from within your chest, you kept your cool and followed megumi from close behind. you continue to walk in silence for several seconds when he turns around to face you, seeing you standing behind him while letting out a sound of annoyance.

"don't walk behind me like i'm better than you." he gently grabs a hold of your wrist so that you were now walking right next to him. "i hate that shit. we're in the same year, so act like it."

the way your heart suddenly jumped into your throat was enough to make you feel dizzy, and the fact that megumi didn't show any hints of letting you go made it all the more overwhelming for you.

with his hand loosely gripping at your wrist, he leads you to your university's library, the silence was once deafening as you thought that your ears were close to ringing-

but the moment several students laid eyes on megumi holding your hand, you felt all eyes turn on you. their studying all but forgotten as whispers and giggles were heard throughout. seemingly unbothered by the sudden change, he keeps holding on to your wrist before going towards one of the hallways that held several study rooms. the first empty room he finds, he enters it while shutting the door.

in the middle of the room was a large, square table with four seats surrounding it. megumi takes an extra seat and settles it on the same side as him, silently gesturing at you to sit to his left. you nod and heed his words, feeling somewhat shy as you took out a fresh notebook along with some pencils and pens from your backpack.

megumi settles himself beside you and takes out his notebook. as you trail your eyes over those meticulous pages, you saw just how much care and detail he put within them, the black ink seeming to bleed through each page as evidence of his dedication.

he takes one of your quizzes and points to each concept you missed within his notes, and you found yourself following along quite well. you end up completely correcting your errors within 20 minutes, and was simply basking in megumi's presence when a deep chuckle was heard.

"heh, i knew you were suspicious..." megumi had placed his lips against the shell of your ear, tone dripping with an uncharacteristic amusement. the feeling of his hot breath against your ear was enough to make you shiver in response, your wary gaze meeting with his.

"ah... i... don't know what you mean?"

he gives you a scoff, telling you that he didn't believe your bluff for a single minute while shutting his notebook. "you know, professor irie has told me to tutor some of her other students in different classes several times. and i can't tell you how we often spent two hours working on a single problem."

"yet you... you corrected each and every one of your mistakes, redoing all 10 problems and giving me the correct answer within a mere 20 minutes."

you were frozen, eyes going wide, as if you were a deer caught in headlights. a smirk was seen gracing megumi's handsome features when you could feel his large hand against your back, pushing you forward so that you could see your past quizzes. he spreads out each and every one of the pages that averaged a 0, taking his signature black pen as he filled them all in with 100's.

"it takes a different type of genius to purposely choose wrong answers, so tell me... why?"

you begin to blush profusely, unable to meet his gaze as you felt your heart pounding faster with anxiety, nearly coming out of your ribcage. you lost all nerve, unable to even look at him when you shakily manage to tell him.

"i-i think you know why."

"i do, but i'd much rather hear it from you."

you could feel his gentle hands rubbing against your cheek, making you sigh as you relented.

"i-i did it so that i could be closer to you...because i know that you wouldn't notice me otherwise."

"and who says i didn't notice you?"

you gasp upon feeling megumi take a hold of your chin, forcing you to face him as his eyes were shining with a look akin to... adoration for you. he allows the pad of his thumb to trace at your bottom lip before admitting to you, "i've seen the truth of your studious nature and your hard work. and those glances you've been sneaking at me when you thought i wasn't looking... so how could i possibly ignore your presence so easily?"

you watch when he slowly narrows his gaze, suddenly inching himself closer to you as you could taste his breath against your lips, giving you little choice but to cave in to your feelings for him as you met with him halfway.

and as his lips perfectly slot themselves against yours in a perfect kiss, you found yourself sighing, thinking to yourself that failing a few quizzes was completely worth it in the end.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x you #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro imagine #.stories

[starsofang]

john price x reader angst

tw: blood, reader death, angst

John knew how much he had failed as a captain when he saw the way your body crumbled to the ground in a cloud of dirt and gunpowder. Your body, always so full of life and spirit, no matter the grueling mission it had been sent on, was now lying on the hard ground, unmoving and seemingly slipping away right in front of him.

A puddle of crimson began to form beneath you, and the sight of it was unnerving. You shouldn’t have ever been seen in such a state. You were somebody that deserved to lie in the comfort of his bed late at night, when missions and reports were put on the back burner, where he’d curl you up against his side. A thick arm wrapped around your shoulders, his soft voice murmuring sweet nothings in your ear, lips pressing against the top of your head. Treating you with such delicacy and tenderness — because that was what you deserved.

You didn’t deserve to lie on the dirty ground with your own blood pooling underneath of you, like a dam had burst open and he had no means of closing up the reservoir and preserving the flood.

You deserved softness and warmth, something that he had given you up until this very moment.

But now?

All he had given you was a failed promise of keeping you safe.

He failed.

“No,” John rasped out in affliction, voice hoarse and rough from the unsteady flow of emotions pumping through his veins. Anger, fear, dread — feelings he knew, as a captain, to keep locked up with the key tossed far away.

This time was different. It was you at the end of the ropes now, and that in itself was enough to have his resolve cracking.

John didn’t know how he ended up kneeled beside you. Everything in this moment had immediately felt like a blur, like it was all moving in slow motion. But there he was, knees digging into the earth, blood soaking into the fabric of his pants.

He could practically feel the warmth of your blood as it seeped into the material, and it wasn’t the warmth he’d grown so used to when you’d lay up against him, or wrap your loving arms around him in moments of secrecy.

Blood. Lots of it. Pouring out of you like a geyser from where the fresh bullet wound had captured in your chest. It wouldn’t stop leaking, soaking your clothes and tainting your soft skin with a ghastly sight that John knew would be permanently etched in the wrinkles of his mind.

John’s arms cradled you close, one arm under your shoulders and the other making desperate movements to feel for a pulse. Two of his fingers pressed along your jugular, a spot where he had spent countless nights kissing and sighing into with contentment. Your skin, cold and clammy to the touch, felt nothing like those nights, where your heart beat picked up through the veins and your honey laughter rumbled against his lips.

“No,” John gritted out more firmly this time when his fingers felt nothing but stillness from where they pressed against the underside of your jaw. “No, no, c’mon, love, c’mon.”

Your eyes were fluttered shut, mouth slightly agape, and John hated how peaceful you looked. This wasn’t how you should’ve felt peace.

Peace was in the secret kisses in his office when he’d be filing reports. The sweetness of your voice when you spoke of your adoration for him, like soft nectar rolling off of tour tongue. The lingering gazes before every mission that told each other the three words that neither of you dared to say, only because you didn’t have to. You knew, right? You knew he loved you.

“C’mon,” John urged once more, but his voice was more hopeless this time around. He knew the fate that had been sealed, but he didn’t want to come to terms with it, even with the lack of pulse beneath his fingertips. “C’mon, love, just need to patch you up, yeah? We’ll get you out of here, fly you back—“

“Captain.”

Kyle’s voice cut John off, and when John looked up, he could see the grim look on Kyle’s face. It was full of remorse, full of knowing, because how couldn’t he have known? They all knew.

With the sympathy and apologies that filled Kyle’s eyes as he stared at John, as well as the small shake of his head, John knew it was over.

John shifted his eyes away from Kyle to stare down at you. Your head rested comfortably in the crook of his elbow, body practically weightless as it laid limp against him. You fit as if you were molded for him, even in death, and he knew nobody else would fill in the puzzle piece like you did.

“Anyone but you,” John whispered to himself, eyes unable to tear away from your face as he took it in — engraved it in his mind, swearing to himself he’d never forget it. The soft fan of your lashes, the bridge of your nose, the way your brows were relaxed and at ease, showcasing just how placid you appeared. He couldn’t help the lift of his fingertips as they grazed along the softness of your skin, tracing every bit of your features to engrain them beneath his finger prints. “Fuck. Anyone but you, love.”

His men allowed him the time to soak in everything about you. They didn’t dare interrupt, nor did they make a sound, as they knew this would be the last time any of them would ever see you again.

And when John was finally ready to accept defeat, they were there with open arms as they took you back to the helo — because you didn’t deserve to be left there on the dirt floor of a country you could never call home, and John would be damned if you didn’t spend the rest of your death in the comfort of somewhere tranquil.

—

i’m an angst girly thru and thru so it was time to write it eventually

#cod #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #call of duty #angst #angst with no happy ending #cod drabble

[boydepartment]

ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚ from the start (trips) - nishimura riki x m! reader

inspired by this cover - angst - masterlist - wc 250-300 -> PT 2

riki absolutely hated your tendency to have new crushes almost weekly. you were his best friend ever and something that kept him from going insane. riki always had busy schedules so being able to hang out w you once in awhile helped balance it.

there was just one thing, you were a hopeless romantic and would crush on anything breathing. and normally this didn’t bother him but now for some reason

it was.

it was REALLY bothering him.

riki didn’t know what was wrong with him, he watched you as you started to wash his face, bumming off his products and clothes.

he liked when you both shared clothes, having the same style helped a lot. he liked shopping with you too, how your eyes would light up a bit seeing something. or when you guys went out to get coffee and you’d know his order.

but you were his friend. yeah…

“oh and then she said this thing that was just so funny it had me cracking up and-“

you were ranting about this girl you met in your class, which was weird because riki noted that you mentioned slightly last week that you leaned towards guys which wasn’t a problem for him at all and-

no never mind riki didn’t want to think about that right now.

“she also said this one thing about my hoodie- well your hoodie and-“

“okay okay i get it.” his tone even took him aback, he felt horrible when he noticed you tensed up and turned to him.

your messy hair falling perfectly on your boyish features, the way your eyes looked, the small details on your face. this has been happening a lot, the awkward silences and him staring at you for a little too long. then it clicked…

oh

oh

“i’m sorry- i- i don’t know where that- i’m sorry continue.” riki coughed and looked down at his phone.

he heard you huff and he looked at you again, “i’m not going to talk if you’re just going to look at your phone. in fact you’ve been off this entire hangout dude… i don’t know what the fuck i did to you- god forbid i share about MY day… you get-“

“okay well maybe you’re fucking annoying talking about all your crushes every week, it’s to the point where i tune you out because it’s so fucking irritating!” riki snapped and he now knew where this anger was coming from- jealousy

he watched as your features shifted from anger, to concern, right back to anger, “well fine since i’m SO annoying i guess i’ll leave then.”

riki felt you shoulder check him before walking out of the bathroom, he stood there for two seconds debating.

he could run after you, and risk ruining everything.

or he could stay here in the bathroom and wait till it all blows over the next day- handling it in a very “dude” way. that’s what jake and him do. just handling it the dude way with a quick apology after an argument then it’s over.

but to riki- you weren’t just a dude, you weren’t just one of his guy friends, you weren’t just his best friend, you were more than that.

and before he knew it, his feet were sprinting to the other side of the house where you were slipping your shoes on. panicking he full on tackled you.

“what the hell is your problem?!” you yelled as you hit the floor

“IM JEALOUS OKAY? IM JEALOUS!” riki yelled, holding onto you like you’d disappear

he had no clue what the hell he was doing. he felt crazy- insane even.

he felt you sit up slightly, rubbing your head from the impact and he looked up at you. still holding tightly onto you.

your brows were contorted and confused, you were dazed obviously because of the fall.

“jealous of what, you psycho?!” a small smile started to curl up on your lips, he felt his stomach churn as you kept speaking, “you’re my best friend, some girl won’t change that-“

“no- no it will-“ riki was panicking again, god what was wrong with him?! usually he’s confident and calm what the hell is going on?!

you looked at him again, “riki genuinely i’m not a shitty friend i’m not going to leave you for her that’s a terrible thing for a friend to-“

“i- i-“ he swallowed hard and he did something he is going to regret, he let go of you, he realized just because you said you liked boys, doesn’t mean you necessarily liked him like that, “yeah- yeah sorry… i just got paranoid i guess.”

“stupid.” you laughed and shoved him playfully, you took off your shoes, “since you’re not going to be an asshole anymore let’s finish that movie.” you stood up and riki watched you walk back further into the house. when you turned the corner he turned so he was on his back, he stared at the ceiling.

memories flashed of you and his hangouts, he felt his heart drop.

i guess he’s always loved you from the start

#enhypen #kpop #enha #enhypen imagines #enha imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #nishimura riki comfort #nishimura riki smau #nishimura riki scenarios #nishimura riki angst #enhypen nishimura riki #nishimura riki imagines #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki icons #nishimura riki #niki enhypen #heeseung imagines #sunoo imagines #enhypen x male reader #male reader #jake sim imagines #jay park imagines #jungwon imagines #sunghoon imagines #enhypen sunoo #enha x reader #enha pics #enha scenarios #enha fluff

[ineffable-sideburns]

Anyone else ever think about how Good Omens and/or Discworld literally rewired your brain and altered its chemistry or is that just me?

Because four years ago before starting Discworld I was fucking miserable and I felt hopeless. I had cut off my last high school friend because they’d wronged me deeply and we’d outgrown each other, and I’d just finished college so I stopped seeing my college/adult friends except for a couple times a year, and after being surrounded by people for so long I was alone and still am. I had given up reading long before that because no author really “spoke” to me, and then I found Terry recommended EVERYWHERE on the fantasy subreddit so I gave him a shot and his aphorisms and witty humor and outlook on the world and people helped me almost as much as my actual therapist. Instead of lingering on hatred and betrayals and my own BPD and PTSD-related thoughts, I began to see the world in shades of grey and work through my own trauma. Before this I only saw “good” and “evil” people and one wrong move pushed you from the good column into the evil column in my eyes. I still struggle with it in moments of direct pain, but before him it was my whole world-view. I was literally so full of anger almost every minute of my life that my chest hurt until discovering Discworld.

Truly crazy how a piece of fiction can help you so much. Especially from an angry man who somehow maintained a sense of optimism.

#good omens #discworld #gnu terry pratchett #terry pratchett #mental health #neil gaiman

[iloveyouinred]

Mentor!Tighnari x Reader

𓇬♡ | Warning: NSFW, degrading, Tighnari is a meanie, kind of animal(what)

In which, you were so dumb and Ignorant, he need to fuck it out of you.

"Dumb girl. At least your body can accept me well." He dragged his cock along your rigged walls. Wet squelch quitely filled your bedroom. Your body bent on the smooth surface of the wooden desk, with books under your chin. Drool almost colours its pages if not for his attentive nature. He lift your head slightly, just enough to move the book from below you.

"Look at you. What a mess." You can hear his exasperated sigh. Feeling his stare at your hopeless state. You don't need him to judge you after he took a hit on his anger and pin you down the table to fuck you. He never had enough patience to teach you. There is always little thing that you do, be it how you fiddle with your short skirt when he comments on your assignment's answer. Or how you never give up and redo your assignment to please his standards, with those top that hanging just a little bit too low when you bend to write down your answer on the paper. Giving him a peek of your thin line of cleavage. And by how you blush every time his skin makes contact with yours, you were inviting. And he gladly accepted.

His ears perked up. Twitching as he releases his seeds deep in you. You could feel his cock is different with its rigid surface, giving you overstimulation everytime he pounds back into you, forcing your soft walls open, sucking around him as his head makes a knot on your insides. As if ready to breed you. At that point, even if you tried to get away from him, you won't be able to pull off his cock. Whatever the case, he forces your body down while your ass up struggling with his quick thrusts. Hand gripping the back of your neck, giving it enough restrain that remind you of a dog on a leash.

"Tig- hah -nari! Ah! Nghah! Hah!" He grunts as he feels you tighten around him, seemingly close. He pounds faster, deeper to race with you, giving you the stimulation you needed. At this point your mind is too dumb to learn anything. You just want to be breed like this everyday by him. Maybe it suit you better. After all tighnari was right. You are dumb based on his dictionary. You drool as he send one deep thrust that possibly enter your womb before pouring his warm liquid. Breeding you full of his offspring. He will keep you in his knot for the while before he let go of your fucked up body. Giving you time to clean up yourself before anyone in your family come home. But he promise to come back the next day. You still need much more learning. He is your tutor after all, what would he do instead of teaching you diligently everyday, every hours you are free. He might start rewarding you if you do good enough.

#i am sleep deprived and writing this in mid of sleep so- idk where the vocab and grammar came from it's all alien. #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #tighnari #tighnari genshin #genshin x reader smut #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #tighnari x reader smut #tighnari x y/n #tighnari smut #genshin impact smut #tighnari gi #genshin x female reader

[jayflrt]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 13. leather jacket

YOU WERE STARTING TO ENVY COUPLES WHO FOUGHT.

At least they could let all their anger and emotions out on each other. At least they could communicate what was bothering them instead of talking to a wall. At least they weren't begging for their significant other to just speak to them.

Every conversation you had with your boyfriend just made you feel more and more hopeless. You weren't even able to tell Sunghoon how horrible he made you feel the last night you two spent together. It was nearing the next round of midterms now and you were still at a standstill in your relationship.

You didn't even want to go to the stupid club anymore; your mood soured after your brief conversation with Sunghoon, and all you wanted to do was curl into your bed and cry your eyes out.

But you were cold. And your mattress was even colder.

This was a responsibility that someone like you was supposed to uphold. Even if you were at your lowest, you were still expected to dry your eyes and show face.

When you saw Heeseung's text, informing you that he was outside, you groaned, still rolling your mascara wand across your lashes.

In under a minute, you managed to finish your mascara and eyeliner, opting to not go for a full-beat tonight. Your mother, a world renown fashion designer, recently sent you the most gorgeous Christopher Esber dress, but you had been hoping to wear it for your boyfriend to see. Now that he was a no-show yet again, you settled for something less flashy.

When you were outside, you spotted Heeseung's Mercedes-Benz parked up ahead. From the back window, he seemed to be craning his neck to talk to someone in the back seat. Surely, he wouldn't make his girlfriend sit in the back, so you realized he picked up the transfer student—Jay—first.

"Hey," Heeseung greeted as soon as you opened the door, giving you a once-over that made you feel relieved that Chaewon wasn't in the car.

You chose to ignore the look he gave you and apologized, "Sorry for taking so long."

"Nah, it wasn't that long. Jay and I were just talking."

Jay grinned, and you were pretty sure it was your first time seeing him smile like that. "He was telling me about Yeonjun almost selling coke to a professor."

You couldn't stop yourself from nearly bursting into laughter, quickly slapping your palm over your mouth. Jay's grin only widened at your reaction.

"So fucking funny," Heeseung said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Heeseung! It's not funny," you scolded, even though you found it hilarious. "He could've gotten in serious trouble."

"C'mon, it's a little funny," Jay said, all lighthearted.

Since you two were in the back seat, you turned to look at him with a retired sigh, as if you were so devastated that you couldn't defend Yeonjun over this. You held up your thumb and pointer finger like you were pinching something, as if to say, yeah, just a little.

You and Heeseung made eye contact in the rearview mirror, and he held your gaze as he said, "Loosen up, Y/N."

You folded your arms across your chest. "Yeah, pass me some of the coke you bought off him."

He smirked at you. "Snitch."

When Heeseung stopped in front of Chaewon's apartment, you three discussed the Yeonjun situation some more before she came stumbling outside with a few shooters in her hand. After hopping into the front seat, she leaned over to press a kiss to Heeseung's cheek. You noticed how he stiffened, though, averting his gaze.

"I brought you guys some shooters," she said with a giggle, clearly already tipsy. You gingerly took the two she handed to the back and passed one to Jay.

"Thanks, Chae," you said, inspecting the tiny Pink Whitney bottle you took from her. "How have you been?"

"Exhausted," she admitted, looking suddenly miserable. You thought it was an innocent question but it put a damper on her mood within seconds. "I signed up to be orientation leaders with Seunghan and Eunseok, and our first meeting was five hours long—at night!"

"There's absolutely no way you're gonna have time for the Order and being an orientation leader," Heeseung said, facing her once they were stopped at a red light. "Aren't you doing an internship this summer, anyway?"

Jay seemed to balk at the mention of internships, and Heeseung started rattling off about how he needed to start applying soon. You decided against sharing your plans because all you could think about was how it was probably going to be a lonely summer vacation.

For the rest of the car ride, even with Heeseung and Jay chatting yours and Chaewon's ears off, you couldn't seem to focus on their conversation at all. You stared straight ahead, wondering if you told them about your relationship issues and your academic stress, would they ignore your problems the same way your own boyfriend did?

The club was no better.

The music was too loud, the lights were too blinding, and you felt claustrophobic by all the bodies packed tightly on the floor.

You spent the first hour talking to Kim Jennie; then you took Yuna to the bathroom to help her throw up; then you let Jeon Wonwoo buy you a drink while he talked about his dissertation topic; then you introduced Jay to Yoon Jeonghan and watched them hit it off; then you attempted to muster up the courage to approach Park Sungjin about Sunghoon not showing up (and proceeded to chicken out); and then you ended up sitting on one of the couches by yourself, completely exhausted and drained from all the social interaction.

Normally, you would've thought twice before sitting on the couch at the club. God knows what it had been through, and you didn't want to find out. However, you were so worn-out that you didn't even care anymore.

While you were people-watching (specifically eyeing Jennie, who you were hoping would give you her seat, laughing at something Zhong Chenle said), Jay came over to sit next to you.

You were confused at first, asking, "Where's Jeonghan?"

"Called an Uber for him 'cause he got so wasted, so Joshua went home with him," he replied, grimacing at the memory. "He wouldn't stop kissing my head."

You smiled weakly as you envisioned a drunk Jeonghan grabbing the sides of Jay's face and planting kisses on the top of his head.

"So, uh, why're you alone?" he asked.

"Wish I knew."

You two lapsed into silence. Not particularly uncomfortable silence, though, thanks to how loud everything was around you.

Jay noticed how quiet you had gotten and asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Huh. I haven't heard that question in a while."

"Well, are you?"

You had been trying to reply in a joking manner so that he wouldn't take you seriously, but hearing the sincerity in Jay's tone made you feel unnerved.

You were quiet for a few moments before you answered, "To be honest, no—not really."

"Ah..." For a second, you thought Jay would take that as his cue to get up and leave. You wouldn't blame him, either; no one wanted their mood to be brought down like this at a club. "Have you talked to Sunghoon about it?"

You scoffed. "It's about him, actually."

"Then what about Heeseung?"

"I couldn't. They're best friends, too."

"Your other friends?"

"They're just gonna tell me they told me so."

"Well... then how about me?" He gave you an awkward smile when you shot him a furious look, as if you couldn't believe he even suggested it, but then your face started to soften. "I mean, I've never said I told you so."

You weren't sure why, but, right now, you felt like you could tell Jay anything on your mind. Maybe it was because of the whole period blood incident; if he could be so understanding about that, then he could handle hearing anything you said. Or maybe it was because he didn't come from such high-class families like the rest of your friends. He wasn't held to some standard to look good in front of you or impress you. From what you picked up on over the past few months, he didn't even seem to care about wealth.

You sucked in a sharp breath, still overwhelmed by the pounding music that made your bones rattle. "Wanna get some fresh air then?"

"Lead the way."

It was much cooler outside, and you soon realized that this wasn't the smartest idea for someone wearing a backless mini dress. But it was far less suffocating to be outside, and you felt like you could finally breathe again without all the sweat and alcohol making you feel gross.

The streets weren't as busy as you expected, save for some students roaming about—probably because New Haven was more of a college town. Your breath was coming out in white clouds of vapor, and before you could even wrap your arms around yourself and rub some heat into your arms, Jay was already handing you his leather jacket.

You took it without even thinking, and then said, "Whoa, my second one from you." A small grin crossed your face. "I feel like I'm collecting your jackets at this point."

He looked down at his feet, shrugging. "I don't mind. Seemed like you needed it more than I did."

You put the jacket on over your dress, and it was like being wrapped in an embrace with how insulated it was. The sleeves were a bit too long and the jacket fell past your dress itself, but you still appreciated the gesture.

You two sat down at a bench farther down the sidewalk. It was freezing and your dress didn't cover enough of your thighs, but Jay's jacket was warm around your body.

"Why didn't Sunghoon show up?" Jay asked. "Is that why you were upset?"

"Sort of."

"Then what is it?"

You sighed. Trying to find the words. Trying to make sense of everything that was going on. Trying to figure out if Jay genuinely wanted to listen to your problems.

He hesitated before asking again, "Y/N?"

You sucked in a sharp breath before starting, "Okay, you wanna know what the problem is? It's the fact that my boyfriend seems to have time for everyone but me! I can't even understand what's going through his head—I mean, we hung out more before we were dating! I can't help but feel like he just doesn't... like me anymore. He used to spend weeks at my place, and now I have to beg him to show up for a few hours.

"And don't get me started on the Order—god, it's, like, the only thing Sunghoon cares about right now. And I don't even know why he's so stressed about everything when he has a guaranteed seat! I'd understand if he told me what's going on but he never talks to me about anything anymore. You've gotta keep this between us, but I think my parents and Sunghoon's parents have been waiting for the two of us to get together our whole lives. Now that it's happened, I can't help but wonder if Sunghoon felt like he was forced into a relationship with me.

“Honestly, come to think of it, the last time I expressed a personal concern to him that's been bothering me for years, he hardly gave me any genuine comfort over it. I don't think he even cared! He just wants me to live up to the same standards my parents set for me because he's so obsessed with living up to his dad's expectations."

You noticed your breathing had shallowed by the end of your rant, and you had to sit in silence for a few moments as your chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Instead of checking for Jay's reaction, you kept your eyes down. You wouldn't blame him if he made a run for it now.

After what felt like forever, Jay asked, "You've told him all of this?"

"Not exactly all of it. He's been blowing off most of our plans ever since we started our third year." Your lip was curled in disdain at this point. "I just—I mean, has he told you anything? You've gotten close to him and Heeseung, right?"

"Uh..." Jay trailed off for a moment. "I think he was just upset about the Yuna thing. Other than that, I thought you two made up after your fight at Heeseung's party."

"Does he think so? I don't think we have."

"You two haven't talked about it?"

"Not really. He hasn't been very open with me."

There was a pause before Jay replied rather bluntly, "You deserve better, Y/N."

If there had been heavy stones weighing your heart down, Jay had just about demolished them with his words. You didn't even realize how badly you needed to hear that from someone.

Having a boyfriend like Sunghoon meant that you were were always gushed over how lucky you were. Eventually, it got to a point where you truly stopped believing you could do any better, so even when your boyfriend wasn't treating you right, you had no hope that you could find someone who would.

Unlike Heeseung, who mostly turned a blind eye to the way his best friend mistreated you, Jay had the sense to call your boyfriend out. Instead of crying, you felt a swell of relief in your chest. If Jay could feel the same way about the situation, then maybe you weren't going crazy or being inconsiderate about Sunghoon's feelings.

Jay mistook your awestruck silence for tension, so he quickly stammered, "Uh... I mean, no offense to Sunghoon or anything. I just meant—"

"No, that was exactly what I needed to hear." You turned to look at him, sighing softly. "I've been thinking of breaking up with him for a while—or I'll give him an ultimatum."

"Do you think an ultimatum's gonna work? That means you'd have to give him another chance."

"I don't know." Tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head. "I'm just so tired of everything."

Jay stood up, looking down at you expectantly. "Come on."

You frowned. "Where?"

"To get something to eat. I always feel better after I eat something good."

You stared him down long enough for Jay to turn his face, embarrassed.

"If you want," he added in a meek voice, "I recently found a place with good Mexican food open late around here."

Strangely enough, the corners of your lips tugged upward into a smile.

"Sure, let's do it."

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

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#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen smau #jay smut #jay smau #jay imagines #jay x reader #enhypen social media au #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #jay scenarios #jongseong smut #jay park #enhypen fanfic #jay fanfic #enhypen hard hours #jay hard hours #enhypen drabbles #jay drabbles #enhypen reactions #jay reactions

[nectardaddy]

Speak Your Mind - Inumaki Toge

pairing: inumaki toge x reader, gender neutral, established relationship

synopsis: inumaki grapples with the thought of not being able to speak his mind to you. not fully understanding, you try to ease his mind but his words hurt.

content warning: angst, use of cursed speech against you, misguided anger, self loathing, pretty heavy bout of anger/sadness

"Stop talking."

Was the first warning the man gave you. But it only lasted mere seconds as he saw your mouth open again once the tension of his words was gone. "Stop doing that," you snapped.

"Shut up-"

Was the second warning and he watched as your mouth snapped closed once more and anger flair in your eyes. He didn't mean for the argument to be taken to such measures, it truly started off rather innocently. But your words struck a chord in him that he didn't know he was capable of inheriting. "Stop it," your voiced hushed as your jaw went slack from his cursed energy no longer gripping you. "It's alright, Toge."

But it was far from alright.

"Get out!"

Not registering what he said until his words already hung in the air, his eyes tracked as you swiftly exited and slammed the door behind you. The room fell silent. An eerie silence that made his already racing mind swim with self-hatred and guilt. He didn't mean for it to get this far. Didn't mean to use such brash, controlling, words with you. He felt his thoughts come full circle, as this was the very topic of conversation he wished to have with you.

His words hurt.

It was a thought hammered into his very being, starting even at such a small age.

"Don't speak, Toge."

"Not a word, Toge."

"You could hurt people, Toge. It's better if you don't say anything at all."

But he couldn't help it, couldn't stand not speaking to you. He craved it, needed it even. It filled his stomach to the brim with dread every second of every hour and every day that he couldn't talk to you. Not in code, not over text, not in writing, not in one word replies that were safe - but actually converse with you the way he so eagerly wanted to. The way he saw everyone speak to you. Perhaps it was jealously, or perhaps a twinge of self deprecation. But he hated it, loathed it.

You tried reassuring the young man, to which it started the very argument moments ago. You would never leave, you would always love him, and you didn't care that he couldn't converse naturally with you. You loved him exactly the way he is.

But you didn't hear him. You didn't understand.

You didn't have such an ability where the weight of words caused catastrophic damage. Your words didn't feel like nails rammed in your throat from such a simple slip of the tongue. Your words didn't have the power to be lethal.

He juxtaposed you in every way of lexicology.

His words singed the back of his throat with every syllable, biting and gnashing at vocal cords with every letter spoken. His words were heavy, feeling his shoulders drop from how burdensome they were. And the taste of cough medicine and numbing spray permanently stained his mouth; years of trying to remedy the drawbacks of his ability only to loathe the taste more than blood itself.

Letting a loud, guttural yell from his lips escape he shut his eyes tightly, hands balling into fists from rage and overwhelming grief. But he couldn't say a word - which made him all the more angry. "What-!" He yelled, and promptly screwed his mouth closed with a loud groan - 'is wrong with me??' All he could do was grunt, groan, and scream nonsense, anything else would mean using cursed energy. But rage moved to hopelessness, the fire in his chest shifting to a chokehold.

Tears welling in violet eyes, and a deep, shaky breath filling his lungs, he felt his emotions collapse. It was as if the world had crashed around him at his realization of his actions, a heavy guilt stabbing at his heart and twisting. Tears slipping down pale cheeks as all he could think to do was cry, to sob, to wallow. Knees roughly hitting the floor as his legs were wobbly, adrenaline and anger completely replaced by despair giving him whiplash.

He couldn't imagine you would want to speak to him after his actions, he couldn't imagine you would want to speak to him ever again. "You idiot," he murmured to himself through tears. "What have you done?"

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