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vxnuslogy · 26 days

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— a reason. ft aventurine

— warnings: slight cursing and violence and spoilers for the new hsr quest

— author's note: this is very long and very much a giant word vomit. first work in hsr is aventurine, i fear favoritism is real.

‘everything happens for a reason.’

aventurine has never felt so sick and tired of that phrase. something about it makes his fists clench from beneath the table and stomach flip and twist uncomfortably from within.

if everything happens for a reason, then what was the reason behind his clan’s massacre? what was the reason for the stirring in his guts whenever he looked in the mirror? what was the reason behind all of his fortune now turned to misfortune?

aventurine hated not knowing the reason.

“and this pretty thing,” jade motioned towards you by her side. standing motionless, back straight and all. “is [name]. be sure to play nice, aventurine.”

what was the reason behind your new recruitment? better yet, why were you placed as his new assistant? the last time aventurine checked, he was doing perfectly fine. steadily climbing up his rank with his risky gambles and bargaining skills. he couldn't wrap his head around it so he just sighed and accepted it.

“thank you for always looking after me, jade.” his voice carried evident sarcasm but the woman only smiled and pushed you towards his direction. he had to physically stop himself from recoiling from the action and gave you a smile.

“it's a pleasure to meet you, [name].” he held his hand out for you to take. you were hesitating, aventurine noticed. but after a few seconds you slowly slid your hand into his and gave it a firm shake. “the pleasure is all mine, mr. aventurine.”

the blonde man held onto your hand for a moment longer before slipping it away and tucking it behind his back. he surveyed your form making you want to squirm under such a gaze, and he noticed.

“let's be good friends.”

—

working with aventurine was strange, not that you didn't expect it. you spent the past six months running around the IPC from one office to another carrying mountains of papers and constantly picking up calls from the communication device in your ear. other times, you'll be out and about trailing aventurine like a lost duckling when you need to accompany him to missions that require him to be physically present.

honestly, working for the stoneheart will eventually give you an early death from a heart attack. not only is his risky gambling habits very concerning, his way of speaking wasn't exactly everyone's cup of tea. more often than not you’re needed to play as a peacemaker, the middle ground of negotiations to prevent any physical fights from starting.

but it wasn't as bad as you'd assume. you clock in around 9 in the morning and clock out at 5 in the afternoon. sometimes if certain tasks require you for overtime, you'll clock out at around 8 or 9 at night max. all the work aventurine assigns to you aren't all that difficult to handle as well. just simple reports that need to be proofread so he won't have to read over them multiple times, scheduling interviews, picking up calls and informing him of his new missions, and if the situation calls for it, you play as a spy to gather information.

overall aventurine was a good boss.

today was like any other tuesday morning. you clock in just before 9, get your coffee and another cup for your boss, pick up the last reports from the strategic investment department, and then make your way into aventurine’s office to brief him on his schedule.

his office was on the fancier ends, no surprise there as he was one of the ten stonehearts. your shoes clicking when they met the marbled floors, your eyes skimmed through the reports, trying to guess which proposal will be approved or disapproved. when you reached a familiar door, you fixed your hair and readjusted the insignia pinned to your vest. an aventurine stone, just like your boss.

you knock thrice -short, short and long- before you hear a muffled voice tell you to come in.

“good morning, mr. aventurine.” you greet with a slight bow as normal. “as punctual as ever, [name].” raising your head you nod towards topaz’s direction in acknowledgment before making your way to his desk. “here are all the reports from the last mission. i’ve read through all of them and made sure everything is in order.” placing the papers on the table, he dropped the ones in his current hand before taking the new ones, all the while, you place down his coffee which he gladly took.

“you aren't overworking them, have you, aventurine?” topaz inquired, crossing both her arms over her chest. “what kind of boss do you take me for friend? a bad one? i can assure you my assistant is in good hands.” the blonde man chipped in, his fingers flipping from one page to another as you busied yourself trying to organize the scattered reports on his table. feeling topaz's gaze, you give her a slight smile and nod, confirming that aventurine is in fact, was a good boss.

she just sighed and shook her head. motioning for you to come over, you look to aventurine who gave you a nod in turn. you walked towards topaz -feeling the searing stare of aventurine burn through the back of your head- as she took out a flash drive and handed it to you.

“this is the recording of the last meeting in regards to the mission you're tasked with. since you were still in pier port, we started without you.”

“how cruel of you, to start such an important meeting without even waiting for me.”

ah yes, the pier port incident. you smiled wearily as your shoulder slumped when you remembered what happened. you shake your head in amusement of the memory.

“thank you topaz,” you break the silence, like you always do. “i’ll be sure to look over it today.” she smiled at you in appreciation before turning her back on you and waving goodbye.

“well, that was all i came for. catch you two later.”

once the door clicked shut and the sounds of footsteps getting fainter and fainter, you took it as a sign to turn back to your boss who was already looking at you.

“is something the matter, sir?” you ask. he took off his glasses with a hum and turned his attention back to the papers he was reading. “be sure to give me a summarized report of the meeting before you go home.” you nod and take a seat on the couch in his office and boot up the laptop on the coffee table. you've always wondered when it suddenly appeared in his office, you were 98% sure it wasn't there when you first started working but aventurine always said that's it been there the entire time.

you shake the thought out of your mind and shift into work mode. hours seem to pass by in the blink of an eye before you heard aventurine call out to you. “i’m sorry mr. aventurine, i'm afraid i didn't hear you.” you heard him sigh and repeat his question. “i said, why did you join the IPC? actually, no, that's not what i want to know.”

when you looked up from the laptop in front of you, your boss had taken a seat across from you. you felt your heart thumping in nervousness.

“what exactly did you do to pique jade’s interest?”

frozen. you felt frozen on your spot. fingers stopping midway from pressing onto the keys. those beautiful eyes you've slowly grown accustomed to seeing unfiltered from his glasses, they make your heart and pulse beat in an unfamiliar rhythm.

“i come from a well-off family.” you start, suddenly feeling conscious of your background. “my parents have worked closely with the stonehearts, i suppose miss jade wanted to continue the diplomatic relationship between my family and the IPC.”

“is that the reason why you're here now?”

you simply nod even though you weren't so sure if that really was the reason.

“let me ask you another question.”

letting out a startled noise when the laptop in your lap suddenly close with a gloved hand sitting on top of it, you stare at aventurine's purple eyes that had rings of teal, something so uniquely him that you couldn't help but get lost in them. he took the laptop from your grasp and set it on the coffee table as he leaned both his arms on his legs.

“do you like working under me?”

the question caught you off guard and it showed with how the corner of aventurine’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. hiding behind a closed fist and clearing your throat, you pray that your voice wouldn't waver as you answer.

“i do.” you peaked towards his directions and he didn't seem satisfied with your answer so you list out all the reasons why you like working with him. “despite your… questionable habits, i’ve come to grow used to them as time goes on.” a fond smile made its way to your lips when you dug around your mind trying to find your memories that had aventurine in them, only to realize that he was in all of them.

“i’ve come to enjoy all your little shenanigans in missions.”

“i'll have you know, calling your boss’ plans “shenanigans” could lead to your bonus being cut by a few percent.” he huffed like a child as he decided to just sit back and cross his arms over his chest and raise his chin at you. you chuckle at the action and continue.

“ever since i was a child, i have always wanted to travel the cosmos. but since i’m the only child to my mother and father, my childhood, teenage years, and now adulthood is centered around business and trade. going out on missions with you to different planets, they heal that little part of me that wished to travel.”

“but sometimes, i truly believe that you want me to die from a heart attack.” you hear him snicker from under his breath as he fixes the watch on his wrist. “i know that as a gambler taking risks is just a part of it but aeons, do they scare me to death sometimes.”

“if i knew you cared about me so much, maybe i would tone it down a bit!” there was a playful undertone to his voice as he talked to you. you let out a laugh and shake your head. “no offense sir, but i sincerely doubt that.”

“you wouldn't be the boss i've grown accustomed to if you didn't do your risky gambles.”

something flickered in aventurine's eyes, you were sure of it. but before you could find out what it was he suddenly stood up, putting on his usual glasses and giving you a closed eyed smile.

“well, that was all what i wanted to ask you.” you wanted to ask something in return, but you never had the chance to even get a word out when he was already halfway out the door. “be sure to finish that summary before the day ends. leave it at my desk as usual.”

and just like that, the office door clicked shut.

—

“if i told you the reason, that'd be the same as revealing a trade secret.”

aventurine remembered jade's word. how could he not when they repeated in his mind like a broken record.

after he left his office, it felt like he suddenly went back in time. it just had been roughly a month after you were given the position as his assistant and aventurine wasted no moment at the end of that friday afternoon to dash in jade's office and ask her the question: why were you his assistant.

aventurine scoffed at jade's response while she only smiled. clicking his tongue in annoyance as the woman led him in circles when he kept asking. what was the reason? was it that hard to answer?

the next few days weren't necessarily the best. he was like a walking ticking time bomb, ready to blow up at any second. everyone in the IPC kept their distance from him -not like they didn't keep their distance to begin with, some started whispering among the hallways about his potential termination after a very big gamble he almost, almost, lost. what ticked him off the most, was you.

he felt so frustrated at you because why were you so damn perceptive. those past few days, the papers that were messily and hastily thrown on the giant table in his office were suddenly organized into neat piles, all held together with different colored paperclips and a sticky note of when each pile was due to be submitted. how every morning you wouldn't fail to knock thrice at his door -short, short and long- at exactly 3 minutes before 9 in the morning with two cups of coffee in your hands. or the times where you would take one good look at him and start lighting up the candles in his office that you started buying for him because you noticed he'd be slightly less stressed when the room didn't smell like fear and insecurity.

what he hated the most was even after his little temper tantrum the past few days began to subdue, you still continued your almost doting actions towards him.

when did he start anticipating your methodical knocks 3 minutes before 9? when did he suddenly grow disappointed whenever someone knocked on his door and it wasn't you? topaz had suddenly grown confused when he suddenly came into the meeting room with a cup of coffee in his hand and when she asked about it he would simply say, “well, my darling assistant bought it for me!”. the multiple scented candles in his office that burned too quickly so at the end of every month he'd have you go out and buy some more.

when did he start using his left hand -the hand he left bare from rings, the same hand that shook in fear of losing- to guide the small of your back away from the crowd whenever you would accompany him to missions?

when did he start taking off the glasses that hid the eyes he wanted to sell to someone else?

it was so confusing yet so simple at the same time. aventurine had grown fond of his little assistant. he has grown fond of you. and that was all there is to it. after all, why would he go out of his way to get that customized brooch that you wear every single day when you come to work if he hadn't. how his chest would swell with pride whenever you spoke with higher positioned officers in the IPC and how they would avert their gaze because of the pin on your vest.

and he knows that you know of his sudden change in demeanor. you just never say a word for his sake. how he went from being a distant and acquainted boss to a friend. an actual friend. and that was supposed to be it. he did say in your first meeting that you should be good friends, but how was he supposed to keep his words after the little stunt you pulled at pier port?

it was a simple mission, negotiate and get the upper hand, nothing more and certainly nothing less. like any other mission, he was accompanied by you and some other people under the IPC. everything was going smoothly until one of them just had to open their mouth and talk shit about his already dreadful past just because he had forgotten to put on his glasses. he truly has grown a bit too comfortable with you around, and he didn't like it.

“what's a sigonian scum like you doing in the IPC? why don't you crawl back into the hole you came from?”

he just sighed. shaking his head, hiding his left hand behind his back, shielding it away from everyone's gaze as it shook with anger, disgust, and the tantalizing question of why.

why did he have to go through this?

and then you did something out of the ordinary.

the sweet assistant of aventurine suddenly pulled out the gun situated on your hip and pointed it directly to the man’s forehead, a deathly glimmer shining in your eyes as your index threateningly ghosted over the trigger.

“if you do not take back what you said just now, i won't hesitate to put a bullet or two in that empty skull of yours.”

then you started walking, and he started backing up. you didn't stop until the man was standing on the edge of the port, one simple push and he'd be drowned in the vast icy oceans. that is, if he wasn't already drowning in the fury of your eyes.

aventurine felt his body move in instinct. his left hand holding your wrist and slowly putting it down at your side. he gave a half assed apology about your behavior and ushered you to your original destination. this time, he kept his hand on your back, specifically near the gun on your hips to make sure you didn't point it at someone else.

“do they always speak to you that way?” you ask barely above whisper. eyes strained one the road you were walking one while his bore into your very being. “i’ve grown used to it. be sure to not point that gun of yours to any potential partners, m’kay?” to prove his point, he tapped the gun on your hips with his finger and you just sighed. a simple yes stumbling past your lips before being enveloped by silence.

aventurine was sure. he was very, very, sure that was the last nail in the coffin, and the answer to the question he's been asking.

the entire day, you stuck by his side. glued to the fucking hip and no one dared to utter a single word about him. the meeting went smoothly and when everyone was preparing to go home, he called you over and said:

“that stunt you pulled earlier, stays between us, alright, friend?”

and you simply nod in understanding.

you carry your bags onto the ship to take you back home only to be taken aback when aventurine comes to steal it away from your hands. “take it as thanks for earlier.” he remembered that look of shock before it turned into something else -what it was he didn't know because you turned away before he could even fathom what of it made his stomach do flips.

even when he came to drop off your things at your personal room, he found himself lingering by the door. watching you unpack your things as he stood idly. you would eventually turn to him and ask if he needed anything more, and out of curiosity he asked: “why did you point your gun at that man?” he will never forget the look of puzzlement on your face when he asked.

“because he said something unpleasant to you. as your assistant, i can't allow others to simply trample on your name.”

he spent the night staring up at the ceiling while laying on his bed. your words mingling in with jade's in his mind, trying to fit the two like puzzle pieces to ease the racing of his heart and uneasiness of his mind. he didn't like assuming things. a conjecture such as this would cost him too much, but tonight he indulged himself in the thought.

picking up his phone and messaging jade, he laid his forearm over his eyes and sighed.

“this room smells horrible…” he muttered. the strong scent of chlorine made his mind spin. making him miss the scented candles you had slowly but surely placed inside his office. he'd grown so fond of them that he'd bought some of his own to place around his home. “ah… i think i'm screwed.”

—

it has been approximately 3 system hours since you arrived in penacony, and roughly a few system hours before aventurine's eventual demise.

topaz had just finished speaking with the trailblazer and their companions. when they had left you stood next to her and stared at the giant prison turned hotel.

“you… don't seem too worried.” topaz said, you felt her gaze but you didn't turn to look at her, instead you just gazed into nothing. “it would be a lie if i said i wasn't worried.” you were most definitely worried, terrified even. no matter how many times aventurine does his high risk gambles, you will never get used to it, not when it causes ghostly hands to squeeze at your heart at the sheer thought of him losing. the thought of losing him.

“but i trust miss jade's judgment. i trust aventurine.”

roughly a day before his departure to penacony, curiosity got the best of you and you stuck around the meeting room in secret when aventurine stayed behind.

“what can i do for you, aventurine?” jade's voice slightly echoed in the empty room. your hands slightly shook in fear of being caught, but you were just so curious about what has been going on with your boss that you couldn't fight the urge to eavesdrop a bit. “oh nothing much. i take it you received my message?” you assumed the woman nodded because aventurine continued. “i must admit, your little plan worked. but is it really necessary?”

jade stood up from her seat, her heels clicked on the marble floor and aventurine followed her until they were by the door.

“well, it's better to stay safe than sorry. and besides, this doesn't count as a complaint, right?”

you heard him chuckle. somehow, even though you hid behind a pillar you felt his stare bore into your being. you could almost imagine those purple eyes that had rings of teal in them that made you weak in the knees.

“no, not necessarily. i could never consider it as a complaint.” he took a moment before asking another question. “but i want to hear it from you, friend. why did you assign [name] as my assistant?”

“it's rather simple really,” jade replied. “you need a reason to leave penacony alive, no? i simply made it easier for you.”

you? the reason for aventurine's will to live? it seemed rather silly. how you, a simple assistant, be so much of importance to someone like aventurine, but with how topaz came to hold the hand that gripped the brooch he had given you, you thought otherwise.

this half a year you've been working with him, you like to think that you've gotten to know him very well.

how when you stood beside him as he sat himself in another gamble, he would always lay his left hand on his lap, fingers curled into fists so tight you were afraid his palms were bleeding.

how he always hid his “weaker” hand behind his back in dire situations to hide his fear.

or when he would always take off his glasses in his office whenever you were there. and that laptop you were 98% sure wasn't there when you started working? aventurine apparently got it specifically for you so you could work in his office.

but what you were most sure of was:

“aventurine doesn't make deals he knows he won't benefit from. he'll win, he always does. he'll come back, i know it.”

#✒️ — works #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine honkai star rail

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sherlockscumslut · 4 months

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☆Genshin men and how they behave under the mistletoe ☆

Ft. Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli, Childe, Itto, Thoma, Ayato, Alhaitham, Cyno, Neuvillette and Wriothesley.

18+ only. Contains smut, sexual innuendos, fluff & crack. Kisses duh, sweet talk, praise, fingering, oral(f&m.receiving), facial, creampies, bad jokes, possible grammar mistakes.

A/n: Have you been naughty or nice this year? 😏 As for me, I guess it's hard to tell bc Wriothesley came home. Did he come to punish me for breaking the law or perhaps, to teach me some...wrestling techniques? 🤭

My AO3

Follow my backup @itsdebby

°☆•☆°•☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•☆•

Finds the opportunity to give you a passionate kiss and whisper something naughty in your ear

The mistletoe hangs on your bedroom's door and every once in a while, even when you're on the phone with friends and family, he sneaks out of nowhere and hugs you from behind. His puts his strong arms around your waist and his head nest on your shoulder. "Oops! I think you walked under the mistletoe again, sweetheart." He says in the sweetest tone and gives you soft neck kisses that never fail to make you melt. "I can't wait until I'm all over you tonight~" He murmurs.

KAEYA, Ayato, Childe, Wriothesley

Tells you something random about his current hyperfixation and turns it into a never ending session of him talking about it.

"Nice to see you here, again. I know we live in the same house but you just happened to walk under the mistletoe...What do you mean it's the 20th time today? Listen, I found out MORE information about [x] and I just wanna share it with you...Don't worry, dinner's one me!"

CYNO, Neuvillette, ITTO, Zhongli

Puts some music on and invites you to dance.

"Sweetheart, can I have this dance?" He offers his hand and you cling on him. He spins you around and kisses you softly on the lips. "You are the best gift I could ever ask for" He says smiling. His pretty eyes stare into your soul as he holds your hand and leans for another kiss.

KAEYA, Diluc, Thoma, Zhongli, Neuvillette

Is up for a quicky right here, right now.

You could be baking some cookies for the holidays but he doesn't care that you're busy. Since you walked under the mistletoe to get to the kitchen, he walks in there too and gives you a naughty grin. "You know...I also walked under the mistletoe on my way here...what do I mean? Well, how about I show you instead?" He lifts you up at the counter and starts teasing your clit with his hard cock. Soft moans escape his mouth and fights the urge to come right away. No, he won't let himself come so quickly. Not until he feels your tight pussy sucking him in and hear you beg him to fill you up. He never leaves you empty handed and after a few rough thrusts, he squeezes your hips as he comes inside. He's proud of lasting longer than he expected and had you to beg for his seed.

Childe, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Kaeya

Praises you while you're gagging on his cock.

"Fuck, this is so good...keep going..." He whispers as you worship his cock with your mouth, licking every inch of him. You like to make him think that he's in control but little does he know about your secret technique that can make him burst at any moment. "You're always so good for me" He moans and holds a mistletoe over your head. "Hehe, this adds a little fun, doesn't it?" He starts twitching inside your throat and you pull his cock out of your mouth and tease his tip with your thumb. He groans as he comes on your face and his upper body goes limp."I could do this everyday" He murmurs.

ITTO, Kaeya, Childe, Cyno

Eats your pussy while you're reading a book or watching a Christmas movie in your bedroom.

Turns out it wasn't a bad idea to hang a mistletoe over the headboard. It was his idea but oh well, it benefits you too. You can barely concentrate on your book or movie. How could you when he's licking your clit back and forth and keeps adding one more finger inside you? He drinks your juices like water and his lips vibrate on your flesh as another moan escapes his mouth. Your hole clench on his fingers as you cream all over them. Your toes curl as a wave of satisfaction washes over your body. He looks at you with pure lust, panting while watching you come back to your senses.

Ayato, Wriothesley, Diluc, Cyno, Neuvillette

He still believes in Santa and stays up late to meet him so they can have a quick round of Genius Invocation TCG or beetle fight💀

Thoma, Itto, Cyno.

Cyno joke moment: You wanna know how we know Santa is a man? He shows up late, eats your cookie, empties his sack, comes only once, calls you a ho and leaves while you're sleeping.

《THE END》

! DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!

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leclercss · 10 months

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Tainted Love, Part 4 (Charles Leclerc ft Lewis Hamilton)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: thank you guys for the love for this story so far. i'm hoping i can keep it exciting and enjoyable. pray for my creativity x

word count: it's a longer one, 6.4k

taglist: @ironmaiden1313, @ru-kru, @buendiabebeta, @flwr-quicksilver, @ravioli19, @julesandro, @hornedravenclaws, @thatobsessedreader @pinkangelavenue, @queenofshinigamis, @notleclerc, @paullinne, @bisexualbith, @strolleclercs, @cl16gf, @estapa94, @yunnie-f1, @headinthecloudssblog, @girlintheredscarf, @taylenas2

Now that you had broken a rule in your and Lewis' arrangement, you were expecting all-out warfare and destruction. So far your predictions were wrong, all you had gotten was the silent treatment.

In your short war against Lewis, your home had become so hostile that you've been working overtime the last few days to avoid being in the flat other than to sleep, shower and eat. Lewis had taken a different approach and had been going to the gym, or fucking other girls, you weren't entirely sure how he spent his time but you wouldn't be surprised by him taking up either option. Or both.

Either way, he comes home, drops his bag by the front door, plays with Roscoe and downs a protein shake before taking a shower and going to bed. All without saying a word to you.

You weren't hurt by this. Lewis had unintentionally (or intentionally, you were never sure) been ignoring you in your relationship for several months and so this wasn't going to hurt you. But what did hurt you was that even Roscoe was starting to ignore you and had been spending less time with you these last few days. He stuck by Lewis' side as your husband took every opportunity to make you feel like an outsider.

Well, I guess we know who's getting Roscoe if we were to divorce.

You had at some point used Whitney's home as a refuge, which you were secretly grateful for. She had known that you and Lewis were going through a tough time but you had never told her the exact reasons. Especially the ones that had unfolded in the last few days. You weren't ready for another round of I-told-you-so's when it came to your relationship with Lewis.

She still had no idea about your open relationship. Nor was she aware of your fling with Charles after you had left the club that night. For all she knew, you had danced with and kissed Charles in a drunken moment after a fight with your husband. No biggie.

And when you rocked up to her apartment shortly after your argument with Lewis, she seemed to be none the wiser. You were there to grab your belongings after all.

"Look at you. Making out with a hot Frenchie before having angry sex with your husband," she teased. "Told you girls night would be a good idea".

"What are you talking about?" you scoffed as you had gathered the belongings you had left behind.

Sex with Lewis? Like that was on the cards these days.

"I recognise hate sex when I see it. I mean, look at those hickeys on your neck," Whitney laughed.

Shit! You had noticed them when you left Charles’ and you were going to cover them up when you got home but then you got so lost in your argument with Lewis that you got changed as quickly as you could before you left for Whitney's.

"Oh yeah," you laugh sheepishly. "I forgot he left those on my neck".

Dammit, Charles! If Whitney had noticed them then Lewis definitely would have noticed. Great, even more ammunition for him to use against you. You pull up the collar of your shirt in a pathetic attempt to hide the markings on your neck.

"It's fine. Max always used to leave marks on me when we used to have makeup sex," Whitney tells you. "He was always up for that kind of stuff when we argued".

You laugh to yourself at the memory of Whitney's ex, Max. A sweet and funny guy until you pissed him off and then he became a hot-headed Dutchman. You were all too familiar with them from growing up in Belgium.

"How was the sex, by the way?"

"What?" You're completely out of the loop when it comes to the conversation from your brief trip down memory lane.

"The sex? With Lewis?"

"Oh!! Yeah, it was good," you lie. "Pretty hot. He got really into it".

Whitney cackles. "Well, I'm not surprised. The way you two have been arguing lately you were due a hot and heavy go at it."

You roll your eyes when she's not looking and take the first opportunity you can to move the conversation away from you and Lewis. "Enough about me. What about that guy you brought home?"

Whitney blushes as she's clearly having flashbacks. "It was good. Better than I thought, to be honest. I'm actually seeing him again this Friday," she gushes.

"Oh, do tell".

"Well, he's having a house party this Friday for his birthday and invited me. You should totally come," she sounds so excited. Before you even get a chance to respond, she's already beaten you to it.

"You need to come. I think he lives with that sexy guy with the dimples. You know, the one that you kissed?" She teases. You're tempted to throw the cushion that's beside you at her head. You loved your best friend but boy, did she never let you forget your actions.

"Whitney, don't!" you plead. You've just moved on from the Lewis conversation. You really didn't need to get into a conversation about Charles with her.

But she dismisses your pleas, "Oh, come on! It was just a kiss. One that you seemed pretty into, by the way. And besides, it's not like you fucked him."

Yeah, about that...

"Anyway, you're having a shit time at home with Lewis. Maybe you guys need to have some social time apart until things cool down. Plus, there's nothing wrong with having a sexy French guy flirting with you every now and again".

"They're Monegasque, Whitney," you whine. Charles had told you that it was one of his pet peeves when someone got his nationality wrong.

"As if there's a difference. But you're coming to that party".

You were slowly edging closer to Friday and as the week continued, so did the cold front you were receiving from Lewis. Before he was just blatantly ignoring you but now he was just being downright petty. He'd been constantly texting and giggling whenever he was in the same room as you. Leaving and coming back to the apartment at all hours. Speaking obnoxiously loud on the phone with his friends about going out and partying this weekend. You're pretty sure you even saw him pull a woman's thong out of his backpack at one point.

And I'm the one that's supposed to be 10 years younger than him? you had thought to yourself at the time. If you had rolled your eyes any further they'd be permanently at the back of your head.

Whatever tactic Lewis was going for you weren't sure. Was he trying to make you feel guilty? Have some regrets? Possibly even to make you jealous?

You had even started to think in the other direction.

Was he just so shocked that you finally made a ballsy move in your marriage that he didn't know how to react? Because prior to last weekend it would have been so unimaginable that you would do something without thinking how it would affect Lewis. You had spent most of your relationship being infatuated with him after all.

Or, god forbid, he was genuinely hurt that you had slept with someone other than him so easily. And he was trying to process the hurt and confusion that he was feeling, even if he didn't have a leg to stand on.

Whatever his motive was - it was unclear. This was behaviour from Lewis that you had never experienced before. And so, rather than engage with him in a game you didn't have the energy or knowledge to partake in, you used it as an opportunity to explore your own thoughts and feelings.

You were still undecided about if you should go to Joris' party on Friday or not. It could be a recipe for disaster and result in further hatred from Lewis. But a part of you was still curious. Charles was most likely going to be there and you hadn't seen or spoken to him since you had left his apartment last weekend.

You were keen to see him again. The night and morning that you had spent with him almost felt surreal. Whenever you had a moment, your mind would flicker back to him and you thought about all of the things that you found attractive about him:

His accent. His scent.

Those dimples.

His adorable laugh which ranged from a light chuckle to sometimes sounding like a seal was dying.

His toned body.

The way he called you amour.

His warm breath hitting you as he moved on top of you.

His tongue slipping into your mouth.

You had to catch yourself a few times as you were finding yourself replaying the events from the weekend in your head. The more of these moments you had, the more you realised you had to settle this sense of curiosity once and for all.

And so you had texted Charles asking if you guys could meet in person. He had agreed and you had decided to meet after work on Thursday.

As you made your way to the entrance of the bar that you had agreed to meet in, you were hit with a wave of nerves. Seeing him again sans alcohol had you doubting yourself. Was this really a good idea? You were already in the doghouse.

But how much further into the doghouse could I be in right now?

Whatever sense of panic and doubt you were feeling left your body as soon as your eyes connected with Charles'. He was already sitting at a table and from the moment he noticed you walking in, his lights lit up and a bright smile immediately spread across his face.

He was stunning. And you were reminded of it each time that you saw him.

He stood up from his seat as you made your way towards him and he opened his arms for you to fall into you. You obliged and rested your head against his chest as he held you for a few moments.

"Hi," your greeting was so blunt that you could feel Charles' chest vibrate against your head as he chuckled.

"Hi, [Y/N]," he laughed.

You lifted your head from his chest so you were now looking up at him and into his eyes.

"It's good to see you again, amour," he whispers as he moves his hands from around your body to cup your face.

He examines you before placing a delicate kiss on your lips. You feel like you're about to melt into him at just the slightest touch of his lips against yours.

"Hi, Charles".

You open your eyes and see that Charles' pretty green eyes are looking into yours deeply. He's been just as curious as you have over these last few days. Especially when it comes to the thought of what it would be like to see you again. To feel you. Were you as into him as he had originally thought?

After your embrace, you take a seat opposite him and your hand immediately reached for his across the table. You've only been here for a minute but you already feel like you need to have your bodies intertwined in some way. He laces his fingers through yours and gives your hand a light squeeze.

"How have you been, amour?" he asks you gently.

God, just hearing him say amour again makes you want to launch across the table and plant another kiss on his lips.

"I've been okay," you tell him. "It's been an interesting few days since I left yours on Saturday".

Charles smiles at you sympathetically. "I can imagine".

You sense a hint of nervousness in his body language as he asks you another question, "Does your husband know?"

"He does," you sigh. "I mean, I arrived home in the clothes that I left yours in. It was pretty obvious".

"And how did he react?"

You can't help but let out a laugh, which confuses Charles a little.

"Well, let's just say he hates me right now. But honestly, I don't really care," you tell him truthfully. "He's being insanely difficult but he's a hypocrite. He's done stuff like this for so long now that he's now just throwing his toys out of the pram. I don't think he ever expected me to prioritise my own feelings for once".

You take a sip of the drink that Charles had already ordered for you before arrived before continuing, "And it only confirms that I made the right decision to stay with you".

You can't help but smile as a sense of relief washes over Charles and he smiles back at you. "So you don't regret coming home with me?"

"Charles, it was the best decision I've made in a very long time".

To reassure him, you lean over the table and place a kiss on his lips. You stay there for a moment, slightly deepening the kiss before eventually pulling away. As much as you would like to, you can't tongue him down in the middle of a bar on a late-Thursday afternoon.

"And aside from the great sex," you laugh, pausing after you see Charles look ever so slightly more smug at your comment, "I also really enjoyed getting to know you."

"I really enjoyed getting to know you too, [Y/N]," he replies. His voice is so soft and genuine that a warm feeling rushes across your entire body. "I wanted to message you after you had left on Saturday but I wanted to give you the time and space you needed. I mean, your situation from what I can see is a lot more complicated than mine".

You nod. Complicated definitely felt like an understatement these days.

"But my feelings towards you aren't complicated. And I'd like to get to know you more," his voice is soft once again. His eyes are glued to your face. He's looking at you deeply, your fingers still laced with his.

You take in a breath before you reply with,

"I'd like that a lot, Charles".

You both lean in to meet each other in another kiss, this one a little more passionate than the previous ones you had shared today.

As you both move away, he presses his forehead against yours in another sign of affection.

You and Charles continued your conversation about getting to know each other. He did have a few more questions for you about your marriage. Before today you would have tried to dodge Charles' questions but after he so openly shared his feelings and intentions towards you, you felt like you owed him some reassurance. And that you and Lewis had some sort of agreement. You also weren't just stringing him along in some shitty affair to get back at your husband but you wanted to get to know him on a deeper level.

You'd also discussed the party that Joris was hosting the next day and Charles was more than keen for you to come but he noticed you still had some hesitations.

"How many of your friends know about us?" you asked him quietly.

"Just the guys that you met, Riccardo and Hugo. Joris knows too," he tells you. "I think some of the others would have known that I kissed you but I'm pretty sure they don't know that we slept together".

You hesitate a little, "How sure is pretty sure?"

"I mean, I told the guys not to say anything. It's not really their place to run around telling everyone your business," he replies. Your hands are in his and he's stroking the back of your hands with his thumbs to soothe you. "I also didn't want them to ruin my chances of seeing you again".

You relax a little and you can't help but to smile at him. "You're too good at this," you joke.

"I'm not always this good," he sounds honest but when you look at him and take in his beauty, you wonder how he couldn't be so good at this. "But with you, amour, it feels natural".

You jokingly roll your eyes but you feel warm and fuzzy inside. You're so easy when it comes to him. And for a moment, your mind flashes back to the beginning of your relationship with Lewis and how you so easily fell for his charm.

But Lewis was much older than you and way more experienced. With Charles, it's beginning to feel more natural, more authentic.

Before you could begin to compare the two further, Charles brings you back to attention.

"Your friend..."

"Whitney".

"Whitney," he carries on, "does she know?"

You shake your head a little. "Erm, no. She doesn't. She did see us kiss and stuff on the dance floor but she still thinks that I went home that night."

Charles nods, he seems quite understanding.

"And she thinks those love bites that you left on my neck are Lewis'. Just in case it comes up," you tease.

Charles drops his head in embarrassment. His cheeks flush a little but you can see he's trying to hide a smile. "Sorry about that".

Somehow you don't think he's sorry.

You both tease each other for a few moments before you become slightly more serious again. "She doesn't know the true nature of my relationship with Lewis right now. She just knows we're having a shit time".

"So I'm going to have to drag you to a private room if I want to kiss you tomorrow?"

You giggle as Charles flashes you a cheeky grin. "I think so".

You pulled out your best acting skills as you and Whitney made your way to Charles and Joris' apartment for the party the following evening, pretending as if you hadn't been here just seven days before.

"What apartment number is it?" you ask as you both stand downstairs at the main entrance.

807, you reply to yourself mentally.

"Err.... 807!" Whitney replies before punching in the apartment number.

A muffled voice accompanied by some thumping music tells you to come in before the door unlocks in front of you. As you wait in the lift with Whitney, you begin to think about how you'll interact with Charles tonight and not make it obvious that just one week ago he'd been fucking you in this very apartment for five hours straight.

Especially if you have a few drinks in you. Your composure was non existent after you got a few tequilas into your system.

"I swear to god, if tonight doesn't result in sex with the birthday boy, I've lost my touch," Whitney sighs. You hold back a laugh as you remain grateful for your friend's ability to always get you to snap back into reality. Even if that was discussing whether or not she'd be giving the birthday boy her own special type of gift.

As you approached the apartment door, you were both greeted by the birthday boy, Joris, who drunkenly threw his arms around the both of you.

"Come on in, ladies," he drunkenly yells in your ear. "Time to get drunk on my birthday".

He begins to drag the two of you into the apartment and into the kitchen where you're greeted with the sound of music blasting and the smell of alcohol.

"Looks like someone has already started," Whitney teases. You feel like a third wheel as Joris whispers something into her ear and Whitney starts giggling. Unfortunately, Joris still has his arm wrapped around you as they continue to flirt with one another.

You try to free yourself as one of the other guests hands you a cup of something but Joris has you trapped as him and Whitney continue their conversation.

"I'm going to leave you two to it," you hope your attempts of freeing yourself aren't too subtle but Joris and Whitney are already too into each other for them to even remember your existence.

A few minutes have passed and you've finally freed yourself from Whitney and Joris. You haven't told Charles that you were here yet since you and Whitney had gotten ready and come to the party together, not needing an opportunity for her to spot you texting Charles. You two were going to have to play it casual tonight.

Once you've poured yourself something that doesn't want to make you throw up, you begin to make your way into the living room to find some other company. As you make your way back into the hall, you bump into none other than Charles' friend from last week. Hugo.

"Heeeyyyy... isn't it long time no see?" he yells as he jokingly throws his arms around you. "Been a while since I've seen you here".

You try not to roll your eyes as he's clearly intoxicated and lightly poking fun at you.

"Nice to see you too," you reply dryly.

"Only joking, apparently I'm not supposed to be telling anyone that you and Charles are fucking," he continues, his words are slightly slurred. What time did these guys start drinking?

"Well, you're doing a very good job at it I must say," you say sarcastically. You look up at him and he's smiling down at you.

"Thank you," your sarcasm has completely gone over his head. "I've always been good at keeping secrets". His arms are still wrapped around you in a friendly hug. Just as you've managed to free yourself from one drunken embrace you've now found yourself in another.

"I'm going to just have a quick walk around, I'll catch you later, yeah?" you tell him and manage to free yourself from Hugo's grasp. As you make your way towards the living room he calls after you, "Your boyfriend is in the living room if you're looking for him".

This is going to be a long night.

Despite his lack of composure and subtlety, you thank Hugo before making your way into the living room in your search for Charles. You have a quick look around the living room, weaving your way through plenty of people. You can't see him. As you're about to turn and make your way back into the kitchen, you feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey you".

You quickly turn around and see Charles standing behind you with a smile on his face. You return the smile and feel grateful at the fact that he's clearly not as intoxicated as the rest of his friends.

"Hey," you greet him softly.

You take in his appearance and as usual, he's looking good. His brown hair is in its usual style and he's rocking a slight tan thanks to the rare London sun. He's wearing a baby blue linen shirt that has the first three buttons undone, his toned chest peaking through. You would have leaned in to kiss him already but you remind yourself that you two need to be on your best behaviour tonight - leaving no signs that you have been involved in any way.

Not that Charles' friend are sticking to that party line.

"Nice to see you again, Charles," you tell him, slightly blushing as he's amused by your staring.

"Thank you, [Y/N]," he says before leaning down to your ear and whispering, "You look beautiful, amour".

The rosiness returns to your cheeks.

You and Charles are trying to find ways to have a normal conversation with one another without wanting to display signs of affection when you hear loud, drunken voices make their way into the living room.

"Shots!"

The voice carries towards you and you see Joris make his way through the crowd of people with a tray of liquor in his hands. He spots Charles and manages to make his way over to him without spilling any alcohol, miraculously.

"Charles, bro, take a shot!"

As Charles takes a shot glass from the tray, Joris looks over to see you standing there and a grin instantly appears on his face.

"Aw, you found your girlfriend," Joris teases and you feel like you're about to shit yourself when you see Whitney following behind.

"Joris," Charles grits through his teeth in an attempt to shut his friend up but if you and Charles are planning on having an easy night with no teasing from your friends, this was not a great start.

"Ohh... look who it is," Whitney laughs as she looks between you and Charles. "Two more of these sambucas and she might kiss you again".

"Whitney!" it was your turn now to scold your friend. Charles quickly flashes you a look of sympathy.

"Come on, it was a joke. Just take a shot," she yells at you and gives you an elbow into the side. You obey her orders and take a shot glass from the tray.

You were definitely going to need more of these if you were going to get through this night.

"3... 2... 1..."

The four of you take a shot, wincing in the process. You're still getting over the vile taste of the sambuca when you feel Whitney grab your arm.

"Come on, [Y/N}, let's go to the bathroom," she says as she begins to drag you out of the living room. "We'll catch you guys in a bit".

Before you're completely dragged away, you look at Charles one last time, mouthing "Pray for me!" which earns a chuckle from Charles.

Once you and Whitney find your way to the bathroom, she locks the door before plonking herself down on the toilet.

"You've told - what's his name again, the hot Frenchie?" Whitney asks.

"Charles". And he's Monegasque.

"You've told Charles that you're married, right?" Whitney quizzes you. Her questioning soon accompanied by the sound of her peeing.

"Yeah, I have," you reply. You hope that your expression is neutral, enough to hide the sudden stress that you're feeling inside.

"Okay good!"

"Why do you ask?" you feel like you might regret asking this one.

"Because I'm pretty sure he was giving you, I wanna fuck you eyes".

You had managed to escape further questioning from Whitney as you successfully moved the conversation along to how she was going to end the night with Joris again.

After you'd left the bathroom, you'd enjoyed the evening with more alcohol and talking to random people at the party. You and Charles occasionally bumped into one another. As much as you wanted to spend most of your night with him, you often had to have surface level conversations and make eye contact with him from across the room.

But right now you were the closest you had been together all night since taking shots with Joris and Whitney. You currently found yourself sitting on the sofas with a few randoms, one of Charles' friends whose name you still hadn't gotten yet and an agitated Charles who was basically eye fucking you from the other sofa. You both were evidently frustrated, it's the longest you two had been around each other without being able to touch one another.

As you were stuck listening to one of Charles' friends rambling on about something football related, you noticed Charles take out his phone and type away aggressively. Once he finished his text, he locked his phone and returned to burning his eyes into your body.

Charles' drunken friend had now moved the conversation onto why he called himself a "Smooth Operator" when you saw your phone flash in your lap. You look down and see a text from Charles:

I can't take this any more, I miss you. Meet me in my bedroom x

You close your phone and briefly look over at Charles, slightly nodding to confirm his request, before you briefly continue your conversation with the "Smooth Operator". In the corner of your eye, you see Charles excuse himself and make his way towards his bedroom. You give yourself thirty seconds before telling this guy that you needed to go to the bathroom.

You try to avoid detection by Whitney and any of Charles' friends that knew about the two of you and eventually make your way to Charles' bedroom. His door is closed and you quietly push it open. You take a quick peak inside and as you're about to take a step in, you feel a hand grab onto your arm in the dark and pull you inside, shutting the door quickly after you.

"Merde, it's about time I got you to myself tonight," Charles growls as he presses you against the door. He wastes no time and, in the dark, he presses his lips onto yours hungrily.

You've barely had a chance to breathe since Charles pulled you into his room as his hands find their way onto your body. One hand finds it's way to your ass and begins grabbing at one of your cheeks like a possessed animal.

"Mmmm!"

Charles initially ignores the noise that you've made against his lip but when you grab onto his hair and pull onto the strands at the back of his head, he slowly pulls away from the kiss.

"Sorry, amour. I got a little carried away," he pants. "I've been waiting to do that all night".

You let out a little laugh, "It's okay, Charles. I've been dying to do the same thing".

As you both recover your breath from the heated kiss, Charles' hands are firmly placed on your ass. "I've been trying my best not to get my hands on this leather skirt all evening".

You giggle, a way to let him know you wore this tight skirt on purpose and find his lips once more in the dark. You wrap your arms around his neck and push your tongue into his mouth. The kiss is a little slower this time but the passion is very much still there.

As the kiss begins to heat up once more, Charles presses his body onto yours and you feel your back press against the bedroom door once more. You can't help but smile at the hard bulge you feel that's pushing against your hip. The poor guy is already needy.

Taking the initiative, your hands run down Charles’ chest and you slowly begin to unbutton his shirt. You reach for his belt and begin to tug at it, undoing the buckle. He lets out a soft moan against your lips.

As you unzip his jeans and begin to pull them down, you decide to tease him, "Do you want me to touch you, Charles?"

He bites down on your lip in retaliation and you let out a whine.

"Fuck!"

"Don't tease me when I'm this hard for you, amour," he tells you before moving his lips to your jaw line and towards your neck.

Looks like those marks will be making a reappearance this weekend.

You ignore Charles' demands and begin to rub him over his boxer briefs, his dick is almost solid at this point. You feel him moan against your neck and one of his hands rests above your head on the door to hold himself up.

You continue to rub him, not giving him skin-to-skin contact down below.

"Baby, please," he begs.

You're trying to hold back a smile and before you get a chance to tease him further, he grabs your hand and shoves it down his boxers so your hand is on his dick.

"Fuck!"

His groan is so deep in your ear that you can feel yourself starting to get wet from it. You realise that you've teased him long enough and begin moving your hand up and down against his shaft. You rub your thumb across the tip and feel a bit of pre cum.

"Oh fuck, [Y/N}, just like that," Charles pants in your ear. You follow his demands, slightly picking up the pace with your movements. He attaches his lips to your neck in an attempt to stifle his soft moans.

Eventually, you grow bored of just having his hard cock in your hand and so you pull yourself away from him. As you get down on your knees in front of him, Charles opens his eyes to complain.

"Baby, what the-"

You silence him by taking him into your mouth.

"Merde".

You pull your mouth off of him so you can spit on his dick before moving your hand up and down his shaft once more.

"Do you like that, baby?" your voice is sickeningly sweet.

"Oui".

You smile and take him in your mouth more, placing your hands on both of his thighs to keep you upright and you begin bobbing your head up and down. His dick hitting the back of your throat. As Charles' moans get a little louder, you feel him lift up your hair and make it into a ponytail so he has better control of your movements.

As your mouth continues to move up and down against his shaft, you peer up at him through your lashes and see that he's staring down at you. His mouth is slightly open in the shape of an "o" as he watches you down below. His head resting against the back of his bedroom door.

"You look so perfect like this, amour".

You've missed him calling you that. And so as a reward, you take him out of you mouth, making a popping sound in the process so you can move down to take one of his balls into your mouth. One of your hands moves back to his cock so it doesn't get lonely from your mouth.

Charles is clearly enjoying it as you feel him tug on your hair slightly, another deep moan leaving his mouth in pleasure.

You pay attention to the other ball for a while before taking him back into your mouth once more. Charles decided it's his turn to take control and places his hands at the back of your head and begins to lightly thrust into your mouth. His dick hitting the back of your throat repeatedly.

"Oh God!"

His moaning is met with the sound of you slightly gagging as he hits the back of your throat. He continues thrusting into your mouth and you feel your eyes begin to water at the sensation, spit drooling down either side of your mouth.

Once the sensation becomes a little too much, you squeeze Charles' thighs so he can pull out of your mouth and you take in a deep breath. You feel your spit run down the side of your face and Charles looks at you with so much lust.

You place his cock into your hand once more for assistance and take him into your mouth, you're a little quicker this time with the movement, wanting him to climax.

He's starting to twitch in your mouth and you know he's close. His hands are still holding your hair into a pony tail but one of his thumbs is now caressing your cheek.

"Baby, you're so good at this," he whispers.

He lightly thrusts into your mouth once more to let you know he's almost there. Just a few seconds later, he lets out a grunt and aggressively pulls his dick out of your mouth. One hand grabs onto the hair on top of your head, pulling at it lightly, while the other finds its way to his shaft. He rubs it a few times.

"Put your tongue out, baby," he pants.

You obey, tongue out, and soon after his cum begins to fall into your mouth.

A number of fuck's and merde's roll of his tongue as he shoots the last of his cum into your mouth.

He lets go of the hair that he's grabbing onto and places it against the door so he can hold himself up right and recover from the pleasure you've just given him.

As he tries to get his breathing back to normal, you place a kiss against his lower stomach and stand up. You wrap your arms around him and kiss his cheek. He lifts his head slightly so you have easier access to his lips and they meet once more in a kiss. His tongue is in your mouth and he can feel the taste of his own cum against it.

Despite the fact that he's still recovering from his climax, Charles doesn't want to leave you unsatisfied for long and begins to fiddle with the zip on your leather skirt, with you assisting him along the way.

As your skirt falls to your ankles, you open your legs slightly so Charles' hand can find its rightful place between your legs again.

"I can't wait to fuck you," he whispers against your lips as he quickly moves your underwear to the side. He pushes a finger through your folds to find itself in a pool of wetness.

He's about to stick a finger inside of you when you both suddenly become distracted by someone calling your name from the other side of the door.

It's Whitney.

Your eyes are wide open out of shock and you feel your heart begin to pound at the idea of being caught in a very compromising position with another man that isn't your husband. Especially by your best friend who has no clue about your situation.

You look into Charles' eyes out of panic. He places a finger to his lips as a gesture for you to stay quiet.

"[Y/N], are you here?" Whitney calls out.

You don't answer. You cling onto Charles and place your head into his neck.

Whitney is about to call your name out again when you hear someone else out in the corridor. You hear Joris' faint but drunken voice. You can't make out what he's saying but whatever he said, it's enough for Whitney to walk away from Charles' door and back down to the commotion and party in the rest of the flat. Once you're sure that she's gone, you look up at Charles.

"They're going to find us here," you whisper.

Charles nods. "I know. But I still need you so badly".

You both pause, allowing yourselves to think of a place for you to continue this away from any wandering partygoers.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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paw-padss · 2 months

Text

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH！

ft. diluc, childe, al-haitham, baizhu

summary: nothing quite says I love you than baking a cake with your lover that says that exact thing in frosting, right? (bake a cake with them, afterwards telling them that the cake is for them!)

A/N: thought i would up the production quality a bit! i literally spun a wheel to decide if they would be good at baking or not so if u think it's ooc don't blame me blame the wheel (100% blame me /hj)（´-`）HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYY :333

notes: hidden relationship in diluc's, all established relationships, no dialogue, gn reader, alhaitham is bad at feelings

DILUC wasn't the kind of guy people approached often; his large frame and serious face made him seem frightening and intimidating. So when you, the new intern, confronted him at his desk with the idea of baking your baking partner for the valentines office party, your coworkers were surprised at your bravery, even a little scared. Of course, they would never come to the conclusion that you and Diluc had a more intimate relationship than what is revealed at work. Diluc had been approached by many people in hopes of being his partner, but to no avail. So they were even more surprised when their seemingly distant boss said yes. Guess it turns out Diluc was actually much more cordial than he ever lets on.

DILUC was the last guy you expected to be bad at baking, but after watching him in the kitchen, with ingredients scattered around the counters and a mysterious concoction in the mixing bowl, you couldn’t help but be very worried. The aroma, or rather, stench, that filled the kitchen was very strange. Like burnt vanilla with bitter frosting. The fire alarm had gone off at least twice, and by the end of it, both you and Diluc looked like you were the mixing bowls. Flour, water, and pink frosting decorated both you two and the marble counters. All that stood was a burnt heart cake with the words 'I love you' in what was supposed to be pink icing. Naturally, when you tell him the cake is his gift from you, an anxious expression appears on his face, and rightfully so, is that cake even edible? Well, it's the thought that counts, right?

AL-HAITHAM was generally known for being critical, observant, and very skilled. One thing he was not known for, was his social skills. So when his fellow researchers heard that he had an arrangement for the afternoon, they were surprised to say the least. You had asked Al-haitham to bake a cake together, and he had no real reason to decline. After all, he had nothing better to do than help his lover with something they’re passionate about. That’s how you show affection! (or so he’s been told.)

you stood in awe. Al-HAITHAM was diligent and committed to his task, you shouldn’t have expected any less. Of course everything had to be in order, the ingredients were neatly placed on the counter in order of usage next to the mixing bowl, and he had decided that you two would alternate between task. By the end of the whole ordeal, the kitchen was left better than how it was and what was left was a cute vanilla cake with the words ‘I love you’ written neatly in frosting. I guess you two really do make a great team. When you tell him that the cake is for him, of course he’s very appreciative, even a bit taken aback, he wasn’t completely used to the feeling of receiving romantic affection, but he just looked at you blankly, before saying thank you very curtly. Of course his mates will try to tell him off later for being ‘too serious’, but who is Al-haitham if not serious?

CHILDE was known by many for his alleged proficiency in many skills. So naturally it makes sense that you would ask him for his help to bake a cake, and how could he say no? It's just baking a cake, how hard could it be? not to mention he would baking with one of his favorite people in the world!

Turns out, hard. You and CHILDE had made a mess of the kitchen and had no desire to clean it up. Flour, sugar, extract, sprinkles (where did he find sprinkles?), and other mysterious liquids littered the counter along with your aprons. At least the cake looked almost edible. The whole thing was basically raw dough shaped into a heart with a sad attempt at pink decoration scribbled on the top, a meek 'I love you'. When you told Childe that the cake was for him, his awkward cough was enough of a reaction before he doubled over in laughter. At least your love held together better than the cake.

BAIZHU was known for his great medical skills and attention to health. But that doesn' t mean he doesn' t mind enjoying a treat from time to time, so when you asked him if he wanted to bake a cake together, he happily accepted. Nothing makes his day better than being time with you, the more time he gets to spend with you, the better.

Doctors are clean and organized, which would explain the nature of the kitchen that you two stood in as you watched as BAIZHU guided his hands, careful and full of technique, around the counter top. Turns out he didn’t even need the recipe book, and he bakes for qiqi on many occasions. The cake looked like something out of a pinterest board, perfectly cut edges gracefully decorated with pink icing, and a graceful ‘I love you’ scripted in the same color. When you tell him that the cake is for him, he smiles and suggests that you share it, together. it’s to be expected that Baizhu would want to do something romantic like that (if that’s the case, then why does your face feel so hot???).

A/N: i've been told my haitham is lacking a soft side, but YOUR a soft side!! hope i didn't disappoint (╥_╥). kindaaa struggled on baizhu ending sorry i hit a brick wall （ーー；）

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kurosstuff · 21 days

Note

✨ Vampire Sera x GNreader x Vampire Lute✨ I want it to be a mix of Horror and Fluff if that's possible. But if not, only Horror.

I got a similar ask to this but ima make that one fluff so this one ill do horror♡

Been wanting to do a horror thing anyways♡

Warning(s): horror, angst, dark fic, hallucinations, vampire magic? Powers? Idk. Reader is slowly losing it, SLIGHT suggestive at one point but. It has a reason

Hopefully the ending makes sense

Vampire!sera x GN!reader x Vampire!lute: Hungry.

Ft: surprise "guest"

Touring in abandoned places is fun and all. Dangerous, of course. But seeing all the pretty things is interesting - wandering seeing all the forgotten places. The way nature took over changing the places to fit into the area around- the way some abandoned buildings look just as gorgeous in certain ways.

Maybe that's why you didn't think too much about going into this abandoned village. Glancing around, you hummed, taking some pictures of the area around you as you walked humming softly. Before a noise caught your attention - turning you smiled seeing such a gorgeous silver fox - kneeling, you smiled as it watched you with unreadable eyes. How it stared unnerved you- as If you shouldn't have noticed the fox. Turning your phone to the camera setting, you took a picture of the gorgeous creature surprised at how it moved, allowing it - usually, it'd come a bit blurry.

Animals don't have a fondness to pictures after all-

Looking up, you frowned the fox was gone. You must have bolted when you took the picture you frowned - guess it did come out slightly blurry. Only around the face altering it in such a way- the eyes. Glowing yellow- humming you rubbed your neck could have sworn foxes couldn't have that eye color.

Sighing, you walked around more, taking even more pictures around you- you knew you may be staying a bit too long. You knew some of the known history of this place. How visitors weren't.. welcome for too long.

After all its good to know what happened.. Why it was abandoned by the people.

The surviving ones at that.

Such a odd story- you weren't to sure if it was real. Two vampires from the manor losing their minds from.. something. And slaughtering the people. Anyone in sight. Man woman even children. You shivered at the thought-

What could have possessed such a sweet lady who loved her people and who loved her to do such a cruel thing all those years ago? How her personal guard even went along with it. Apparently the guard was similar. Beloved yet feared

For how she was a cruel one.

Humming, you pulled a phone out, texting your friends your location and that you made it ok. Truly, you wished you had brought a friend like usual- but you weren't all too sure why you went alone. Such a odd impulse you never expected to have. Sitting on the broken steps to take a break, you went through the pictures so far

How the lighting hit the trees engulfing the area around the building- how it almost looked to glow- smiling in approval you went through until you reached something odd- frowning - you leaned back. As you stared, just almost out of sight. As if it didn't want you to notice right away.

The fox was there.

But- that couldn't have been right. No- the fox wasn't spotted until hours later. The same silver fox watching you- a shiver ran up your back pale from how odd it was. Swiping, you looked around, spotting it finally in every single picture you owned but. It wasn't right. It was wrong. It wasn't looking around the place like the other animals you happened to snap as well.

It was watching you.

Every single one, its eyes locked onto you. As if looking through the camera itself. Gazing into your soul. Closing your phone, you stood up even more uncomfortable. Why was it in ever picture? Was it following you?

Did foxes even eat- hunt humans?

How did it get so close to you- until you finally spotted it in person. Not with the camera. As if it wanted you to see it-

Something wrong. But you couldn't figure it out.

Swallowing you pulled your phone out, dialing your friends number, panicking deeply something isn't right. The fox is weird. This is weird. Wrong. Once they picked up you asked.

"What? Foxes? Oh. Yeah, their curious things remember? They love watching people, after all. Mostly their prey. Why?"

That. Did nothing to sooth you. Not even close. Sighing, you hung up on your friend, feeling eyes on you. Glancing around, you huffed. You're alone. You're safe. It's ok.

Looking up, slightly frowning. You had this deep feeling to leave. To go home. To go anywhere but this abandoned area its getting to dark. A deep feeling in you gave soemthing that just screamed to run.

That it wasn't safe at night.

You chalked it up to being nervous. As you always are, when visiting abandoned, place the first time. Maybe it was the stories you heard of this place? The horrors.

The history. How horrific the acts that happened here happened. How it gave you an uneasy feeling. Even the second you stepped past the gates, ignoring the warning from the gatekeeper. The kind old lady.

You weren't ever coming back here again. It made you to uneasy.

To unsafe.

But you kept coming back. Coming back to this village? Town? Whatever it was. You were certain it was no ordinary village after all. Huffing as you shopped around feeling eyes on you more intense than ever since you first stepped onto the territory- the old lady who stood at the entrance who as always cleaned those things. Those doors? The odd shapes on it. Why didn't you notice it before? Why is it so new to you know? You knew the old lady. Talked to her before every single time you entered to go into the only known opening.

"Oh! Your.. back?"

The old lady croaked, turning to you weakly in her slowed state. Yet you knew even If she's old? She's more than capable of on her own "yes ma'am! Something about this place just.. draws me in!" You beamed moving to hold her as always stoney cold hands helping her off the plate form- despite knowing she did not need such assistance

Humming softly, she stared up at you through eyes. You couldn't place - "Ah, I see. Do be best to be careful then? You wouldn't want to be on cautious on this day, my dear" crossing her arms behind her back, slowly walking you to the entrance yet stopping just before the door. As if a line stopped her a barrier, "I warn you all the time but this day do it the most."

That made you stop curious- but filled with dread asking her what she meant- which did anything but sooth your aching mind.

"She has seemed to become more active today. Seems you have caught both their attention. Do be careful not to draw anymore to yourself. Today is not a good day"

You blinked confused "what?" But the old lady didn't day anything just smiled sadly. Turning to face away from you walking away silent. Sighing, you shook it off. Must be something to spook you. Scare you.

She seemed to like that.

As you walked away. You sealed your fate more and more.

Walking around the abandoned village, you swallowed your nerves. Going up to the Palace, which unlike everything else stood tall. Intact. Only signs of abandonment was the weeds growing everywhere. On the building itself.

Before you'd never dared, go up to it. Every time you came a bit to close, you felt sick to your stomach feeling the urge to get sick

You chalked it up to knowing the horrors that took place inside. How it all started. How the blood bath began.

Sighing, you looked around. Feeling those eyes yet again on you. It's more intense than ever before. Grumbling, you walked up the stairs trying to think of where the front entrance was. Passing a bench shaded by some trees you hummed before grinning "oh- makes sense,"you huffed, spotting the doors off in between two huge bushes. As if to hide.

The lady of the Palace always preferred to have the doors hard to find for the safety of herself and her workers.

Walling up the staird a sound of walking caught your attention. Glancing, you saw that fox. Again. Staring right at you as you went up. Feeling something wrong as a click was heard - something shooting out slicing your arm, making you back up

Looking back, a knife was thrown from... somewhere "..a trap -" a shiver ran up your back, turning you paled. The fox was staring at your arm. Hungry.

Something was off

Almost in a trance as you stared, moving close to the fox. Kneeling down to it, letting it get close to you, gesturing your hurt arm to it as its mouth opened wide about to bite-

"Wouldn't do that if I were you"

A voice called out, making you snap out of that odd trance. Jumping back back away from the fox who snarled at you before for the first time ever looking away from you. Past you. Turning, you caught sight of a woman sitting at the shaded bench the one you just past. You could have sworn no one was there

Weren't you just about to let the fox lick your wound? Why aren't you worried. Even thinking if it?

The woman in the sun hat blocking her eyes so big making a whole new shade. Just from her sitting, you knew. She was tall. "Wild animals are dangerous. And you are wounded." The woman hummed, staring at you softly. Oh so soft, it- made you weak.

Felt wrong.

"Oh- uh yeah I uh-" Holding your arm, you sighed "somehow a knife came and... where did you come from ma'am?" Watching her hum, crossing her leg over her other staring in such comforting uncomforting silence

Your ignoring all the warning signs. Why aren't you running.

"Oh? Your hurt from the stairs, no? That's a trap for trespassers after all" the lady hummed on instinct you glanced down. The fox? Gone just like that. The oddest thing. Where did it go-

"Wait -" you stared, looking right back to the lady who was unmoving like that of a statue. "How did you know that?" Wasn't something even they knew. Couldn't find much information on this place through any papers or on the internet

It was silent. She didn't utter a word for a couple minutes too long "..all castles have traps. Some are well known and documented others like this place giving its..history for people around it too long. Don't know. Studied old-time castles more than once before, so.. I know how to spot some traps" she hummed making you nod. Feeling weird.

You didn't wanna be here.

Didn't wanna be near her - but why? She's been nothing but kind.

"Why don't you come here and I'll look at your wound for you?"

There it was. That unnerving feeling just like with the fox. Something told you not to go near her. Not to allow you to touch her. But your legs were that of not your control. Moving before you could stop yourself. Why can't you stop? Why- what is this.

You didn't stop. You walked right up to the white haired lady- staring at her unhumanly beautiful face as she held your arm. Gazing carefully as she hummed cleaning the wound gently, "not enough to need stitches~" she hummed out.

Somethings not right.

She looked up at you- blinking. You flushed automatically smitten with her not hearing anything she spoke as she took care of your injury. Not hearing how she shooed the fox away.

How it listened

You need to leave. Run

"Come~" the ladies' voices do hypnosis, so captivating "come with me~? To the Palace ? Won't you keep me some company ~?" She purred holding your chin staring deep into your eyes.

How could you say no?

Not like you could by now.

Following the lady without any ounce of regret. You knew you could trust her. Despite not knowing her name and just meeting her. You knew you could trust her

Yet deep down. You felt weird. Something wasn't right about her. Was it the odd speech she did every now and then? Speaking in such an old tongue? Was it how she stared at you hungry.

But as a food?

"Sera," she spoke up after a moment, humming seeing your confused look, making her hum smile softly. "That's my name~" her smile made your chest heavy. It was gorgeous.

It was a trick.

Walking closely, you talked about anything you saw. Your guard is lowering. Unaware of the fate, you sealed yourself in more and more. You weren't even too sure what you were talking about. Like it was a blur. It confused you. What was happening? How did you. Get in these corridors?

It's not too late.

"Oh, my friend should be coming soon," Sera spoke, making you up, looking up at her in thought- not at all worried how you follower a stranger into a building alone. How her friend is coming- somewhere around. Not at all worried about how weird it is.

How does she know where to go?

Walking around her more your feet on autopilot as they matched with her. Like you were in a trance of sorts walking with her trusting her to lead you to your destination. How she turned in these long, confusing corridors like she knows it like the back of her hand. "Have you been here before?"

She didn't answer.

Frowning, you glanced, wanting to look at the paintings. The pictures from what you saw looked strangely familiar. Narrowing your eyes, you tried to peak to look more before doors opened "Oh there you both are," a new voice spoke. Glancing over, you saw an equally gorgeous woman who wore a scowl. As if that was her normal expression - but the second she looked at you, she smirked knownly

How did she know you were here as well?

As the woman walked to you. Your heart pounded as If.. something was wrong. Something isn't right about this. Why do you feel so.. uncomfortable? Was it the lack of familiarity of the woman with you? Or was it your gut telling you. Somethings wrong?

"This is Lute~, a good friend of mine~," Sera purred, gesturing to the shorter woman who smirked at you "shes.. much more quiet. Dont take it personally, ok?" Nodding at her, swallowing thickly feeling even more nervous.

Why do you know her? Why do those eyes remind you of her

Almost fox like.

Sighing, you nodded following the ladies. Noticing how Lute preferred hang back. Behind you walking slowly watching you as you walked. Checking out all the walls and paintings that somehow laid untouch in the attacks minus the dried blood here and there.

It was like she was watching you

She is.

You knew you could trust Sera, so by default, you trusted Lute too. Their both kind. Nice. Just overall caring. How they coo at you softly speaking to you. Leading you everywhere. Lute doing the leading more as Sera talks. Their safe.

You shouldn't trust them

Glanicng you blinking a painting caught your attention. Making you walk right up to itzx making Lute stop to watch you. Looking up at the painting, three women in it. The tallest looks identical to the woman your following - frowning - you watched the two ladies. As a hand rested on your lower back- glancing those Sharp eyes staring right at you. "Oh sorry Lute" you whispered, smiling nervous. She looked just.. like the guard. Must be a coincidence

"Come alone~?" Pushing you along with her. Glancing up at the painting, you frowned, but the third lady. Why did she look so familiar? That blond lady..

Why aren't you wondering why her face is blurry to you?

As you were pulled into a room, Sera spoke. Showing you around as Lutes hand never left your back. Yet you heard not a single word. You felt off. Nervous. Something wasn't right. Why was -

"Well?" Your thoughts cut off from Sera, who smiled so softly at you walking up to you cupping your face, making you shiver from how unbelievably cold she felt. "Will you allow us~?" She purred as you jolted, feeling cold lips touch your neck. "Focus on me~" she hummed as lute pressed kisses to your neck. As if searching for something groaning, you held Seras hands as she hummed, taking that as a yes "come on~ say It for me?"

Why didn't you run.

"Yes~" you spoke as she kissed you deeply groaning as Lute peppered your neck in kisses before stopping at a spot. Too focused on Sera kissing you- you didn't see her smirk. Hungry. Opening her mouth to bite. Piercing your neck, causing you to scream. Sera swallowed your agony. How you attempted to push away

"No~ it's ok it hurts for a second, but don't worry," Sera purred, kissing you again, moving to your neck on the other side searching as both ladies began to drink

To feed.

After a while, it got too much. Hurt to bad. Making you beg them to stop. To let you go. You didn't want to die like that- to be drained by... whatever they are. Vampires? Cannibals? You didn't know.

But they didn't stop. They kept going not even stopping as your hits became even weaker then before how you got worn out. Tired. To tired-

If they didn't stop now, you'd die.

"-away"

A voice making the two ladies finally release you as you fell to the ground, sobbing out in pain. Confused on what happened. Not even waiting the two..whatever the hell they are hisses backing away from you as if something in the room pushed them away. Disgusted them. Looking up you never thought you'd see Sera look so disgusted by.. whoever. Bloodied from your blood as she drank from you.

Not even waiting, the ladies glanced st you before turning. Rushing off.

As you laid in your blood, it pooled around you. Losing to much blood' A husk of yourself - feeling yourself sliping away. Black dots in your eyes. ".." a voice spoke. Weakly, you gazed up seeing the kind old lady walking to you - confused. She never walked into the village. She always refused. Strictly so- saying she's the guardian. To make sure nothing was released. You suspected to keep those blood suckers inside.

But it's odd. Why is she walking so much better then before? Looking healthy?

Blinking, you froze something sick in your stomach. She wasn't an old lady. No - not with that long blond hair. Those blue eyes shun red if you looked just right. Smiling those fangs shun as she knelt beside you. "Oh my sweet~, look how rough they treated you.. my own creations. Mistreating their food so" her usual familiar odd speech

It all made sense.

There was never just two.

There was a third.

The forgotten one. The one who pulled all the strings. That's how it all started. Only hints through out the history books on the past

"Y-your"

A finger pushed against your lips as she hushed you softly smiling "it's far from over. We must do it again. Right this time." She spoke softly as if knowingly. Knowing your fate. Why was it so familiar? Have you heard it before

Yes.

What was this woman's name? It was on the tip of your tounge-

"Just close your eyes, let's restart once more. Do be sure to keep entertaining me~"

Right- her name. It's Li-

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel sera #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #sera x reader #MONSTER AU

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a-fandom-reimagined · 9 months

Text

ALL OF YOU | BRUCE WAYNE X PLUS SIZE GN! READER (FT. ALFRED)

୨୧ type: fluff & angst | word count: 887 | tw: sfw, mentions of bullying but no actual descriptions of what was said or done. please enjoy

→ please note that I don't think I've ever written anything for a gn reader before so if I messed anything up (like how i couldn't figure out what the gn alternative for master/miss is) I apologize

requested: omg okay, idk if you would want to write this but; since i can't find ANY battinson x plus size reader stuff, could i request a battinson x gn plus size reader where bruce discovers his partner being insecure about themselves and tries to cheer them up? this would be angst mixed with fluff if that's okay with you :>

Everything is fine, you told yourself.

The limo pulled away from the curb merging into early morning rush hour. The annual Wayne Foundation Ball had ran hours longer than you'd intended. And as host, you couldn’t leave early. No matter how much you'd wanted to. You relaxed into your lover's embrace, drinking in his cologne. Basking in his warmth. It was the most relaxed you'd felt all evening.

You were almost asleep when Bruce's voice dragged you back to reality. "What's wrong?"

You opened your eyes. "Nothing." You couldn't even manage a smile to better sell the lie.

Tonight was supposed to be your night. And they took it from you…

Bruce frowned. "Don't lie to me. We're better than that."

You were better than that. And now you had shame to add to the long list of emotions weighing you down.

They were just words. Everything is fine.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck. You didn't want to talk about it. Not with him. But you couldn't lie to him either.

Your fiancé kissed the top of your head, hugging you tighter. "Talk to me. Did someone hurt you? Did something happen?"

"It doesn't matter. It's not important."

"It's bothering you so it does matter and it is important. You've been talking non-stop about this Gala. You've been planning it for months. What happened?"

You pulled back to wet eyes and a broken smile. Bruce's jaw ticked, his expression chillingly blank. Bruce usually kept this side of himself hidden away from you. Was this the version of him that went out to hunt bad guys every night? Or was this just a small sliver of him?

"Sir, not to interrupt but would you like me to turn the car around?"

You'd forgotten the partition was down. Alfred's voice was low and clipped. Almost unrecognizable from the sassy, well-mannered man who'd been like a father to you over the past four years.

"I'll let you know." answered Bruce before returning his attention to you. "Please." he said softly.

You shook your head. "It's so silly. They were just words."

"What did they say? Who said it?"

You sighed heavily. He wasn't going to let this go. And it was stupid of you to try to hide it from him. The World's Greatest Detective… The World's Most Attentive Fiancé was more like it. "The…people at the gala were mean to me," you admitted in a small broken voice. You hated the way you sounded. You hated even more that you'd let it get to you. "There. I told you. They were mean to me tonight and they said awful things about my weight, how much I ate at dinner. One woman gave some diet pills she swears by in the bathroom. It shouldn't bother me. It's not like I haven't experienced this before. I am a plus-sized person, I know that but…I don't know. These people gather every year to give away exorbitant amounts of money to make Gotham a better, safer place to live. I don't know, I guess I just expected better. Dumb, I know."

"It's not dumb."

"But it is! Bruce, you put on a mask every night and go face down real villains. Real villains that cause real pain with real weapons."

Bruce's jaw dropped. It took a lot to shock him. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with everything because they're just words, Bruce, not bullets! And I let them get to me. I've been miserable all night. That's why you caught me in the hallway tonight. I didn't get lost, I just got down crying in a broom closet and I was walking around and waiting for my eyedrops to kick in and hide the redness! Now, can we please just drop it and forget that this ever happened?"

"No we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you feel like you can't confide in me just because of who I am and what I do at night. They're not just words, Y/N these people bullied you. You worked your ass off to make this Gala the success it was. We've never raised this much money in a single night before and it was because of you. Y/N I don't care how minor or unimportant you think it is. You don't have to get roundhouse kicked into a dumpster for your feelings to be valid."

You swallowed a laugh. "When in the world did you get roundhouse kicked into a dumpster?"

Bruce smiles. "That's the point. The point is your feelings are valid. And you can come to me with any of them."

"And I as well, *[Master/Miss] Y/N."

You breathed easy for the first time that night, And smiled for the first time that night. "Thank you. Both of you."

Bruce smiled back, pressing his forehead to yours. "Feel better?"

You nodded.

"Good. Because you're going to tell me the name of everyone who bothered you tonight. And then Batman is going to toilet paper their house and slash their fucking tires."

You barked out a laugh.

Bruce pulled you even closer leaving a trail of kisses from your temple to your collarbone. "You're perfect just the way you are, my heart. All of you."

REQUESTED! | REQUESTS: ALWAYS OPEN | REBLOG DON’T REPOST | MASTERLIST

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hiorisgf · 1 year

Text

##WAY TOO CUTE FOR MY SAFETY SAVE ME

↪Ft. Nagi

Event Navigation

"Ah."

A sound of surprise escaped your lips as you stared at him, astonished to find the snow white haired male napping comfortably with his head on the table. You pause from your steps, a bit hesitant to come forward—for what reasons, you don't know. Maybe because you didn't want to wake him up from his obviously pleasant sleep, but not like you could care enough to wonder why anyway. You remain standing at your initial position by the door, at a lost for what to do.

"You can sit here you know" Nagi said, voice thick with sleep. He turns his head to face you, half lidded eyes staring right back at yours and you would be lying if you said you didn't find it attractive.

You shriek, and unfortunately for you, the sound you let out wasn't cutesy in the slightest—it was the kind of sound that would be suited for when you're voicing ogers screeching to death.

"Oh my god" you heaved out a sigh, clutching your chest tightly. "You scared me, since when have you been awake?"

"A few minutes ago, I could hear your screaming from miles away"

You pause, before swiftly realizing what he meant. "My bad, walking around blindfolded is a terrifying experience." you said, shivering at the memory.

"Really? It wasn't that way to me" Nagi tilts his head and darn was it infuriating how effortlessly cute he could be.

"Yea I'm sure." you snort, and Nagi squints his eyes as though confused, and by this time, you wanted nothing more than glomp him. "You were probably carried by Reo or something"

Nagi's eyes widens, and he lets out an 'ooh' sound "How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess" was all you said

A momentary silence befell on the two of you as you looked at the room. The classroom you noticed to be yours, was covered with heart decorations that screamed love all over and it was a bit sickening just how much they over decorated the place. You notice the clock right behind Nagi, it counted to 30 minutes—a bit lengthy you think for a booth on an event that lasted for only a day.

The door opens and you divert your attention away from the clock and instead to the person who entered. He holds a tray with a parfait standing on top of it with all its glory. The person walks closer until he stands beside your table and with swift motions, he places the parfait on the table along with it, spoons for two people.

"We never ordered anything" you quickly told him, it looked expensive with how presentable it looked.

"I know, but your classmate, Reo, has offered to buy it for the two of you." he flashes you a grin, a harmless, customer service smile, he flashes to the two of you before excusing himself goodbye.

"Ah—" you helplessly watched as the staff walked away, looking at the parfait that sat in the middle of the table. You blink, once, twice, and the dessert starts sparkling, as if seducing you to come and eat it.

"You want it?"

You flinch, as if a criminal found guilty. You shake your head "No no, I can't—"

"It's fine, I don't mind. And everything available on the menu is for two people anyway."

"Well.." you look at him, as if verifying if he really was alright with it before taking the spoon and taking a hesitant bite.

Wow. You gasp, it was delicious—easily topping most of the desserts you've eaten before. You ease your body as you take yet another bite, it was addictive—way too delicious to be made by someone with the same age as you.

"Is it good?"

"Yep, it went way above my expectations" you replied, taking yet another bite of the heavenly made dessert. "You try it too, you won't regret it"

Nagi hums, and you wait for him to take a bite. To your surprise however, he only opens his mouth and lifts his head up a little.

"What are you doing?" you asked, raising a brow at his rather eccentric yet still adorable actions..

"Feed me, please?" he tilts his head in a way that would highlight his charms in all the right points.

Your heart tightens and lets go with a boom, "No, get your own spoon and feed yourself with it" you coughed into your hand, resisting his charms with all of your might.

"That's tiring" Nagi grumbles, and even now, he's as adorable as can be. You dig your nails into your palm, tight enough you think it'd bleed. But in the end, you were no more than a fool down bad for a man who'd find it troublesome to look your way.

You groaned, although not truly annoyed as you scooped up ice cream and shakily offering it to him. "Goodness, you sure are tiresome, Nagi" you say, a defeated smile taking place on your face.

He takes a bite, and it's evident he likes it by the way his eyes light up with glee. "It's good" he says, chewing on the strawberry.

"Right? I told you so!"

You passed the remaining minutes of your inprisonment with light chattering. Enthusiastically, you told Nagi about the drama's going on at the school campus with great detail, like how student a and student b because of homewrecker student c, and the beef student d had with student z. You half expected Nagi to fall asleep during your gossiping so you were surprised when he didn't, and even participated by giving his opinions on the topic. A small action, and yet to people who knew Nagi, it meant everything—such was the case to you. And you probably shouldn't get ahead of yourself, but you truthfully felt a bit special when Nagi participated with things he would usually find troublesome with you.

"So so, you know that one couple in my class that does disgusting pda everywhere?"

"Yea, they were pretty loud and distracted me from my game" you nod your head, glad he atleast knew those two. "Ok so apparently, the guy was cheating on her with the school secretary! Can you believe that?!"

"Wow, really?" Nagi half heartedly reacts. It's not that he isn't interested with what you're saying—but he just happens to be more focused on the way you move your hands alot as you speak, and the small, yet adorable way you scrunch up your nose when you mention a person you particularly dislike; he is focused, just on the wrong things unfortunately.

Nagi thinks you're pretty, breathtakingly so. And he can't help but feel a bit excited when you show him the bits and parts of you that you wouldn't let others see; loves learning more about you, what you like what you don't like, the games you like or the mangas you enjoy—and most of all, he enjoys it when he sees you smile—a real, genuine, and carefree one. Nagi adores it when you smile like the way you do now, he adores it so, he can't help but curve his lips upwards as well. A small, and yet nevertheless there kind of smile.

"Dude, you aren't even listening" you drive him away from his thoughts, and he shifts his attention back to you again. He spends a moment to look at you and in result, you groan—whether in annoyance at yourself for being absolutely down bad, or for him not listening, is a mystery with an answer for only you to know.

Ring ring!!

The clock rings, and the door opens right after. Outside, was a staff who tells you that the time was up along with some acquaintances (Reo being one of them) waiting by the door. "Ah, we can go out now. You can get your switch back now too. That's great!" you said with a smile, standing up from your seat and cleaning up the table—or atleast organize the empty plates and dirties utensils.

"Oh, it's over already" Nagi echoes your words, disappointment smeared on the words that leave his mind.

"Nagi?" you pause from your actions, a bit curious by the sudden decline of his mood.

"Too bad." he leans on the table, cocking his head to the side "I wanted to talk to you more too."

Oh. God.

Are you dead? You think you died with the way your heart ceased moving entirely as the thought of breathing and moving your chest was an action way way above you.

"Well—we can always spend more time together next time, just tell me if—if you want to talk and I'll gladly spend—yea, spend some time with you." you stuttered, tripping over your words as heat creeps up on your cheeks due to his bold statement.

"Really?" the way he raises his head and looks at you with anticipation isn't helping your case, really.

"Yes, really. Promise" you nod your head, trying your utmost best to look at him in the eye to show the sincerity of your words.

"Nagi!" Reo calls from the door, waving him over, with his switch in hand; you both turn your heads to look his way, and Reo greets you hello when he sees you notice him as well.

"Well, I have to go now." Nagi says, slowly standing up from his very comfortable seat. "Bye [Name], I'll talk to you later"

You wave him goodbye, showing a part of the happiness that explodes inside the confines of your ribs on your smile. You fall to your knees shortly after you see them disappear, unable to calm your beating heart from breaking out of its cage and run around the room anymore. Today felt like a fever dream, with him smiling at you and all—the last part too. You think you'll pass away today, you're sure you will.

"Hah, simp." the familiar voice of your friend—whom also happened to be one of the staffs at this booth teases.

"Shut up and let me have my moment rat."

#blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #bllk x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #bllk x you #@@.xylvie's works

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knifedog-machina · 2 months

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Android Abnormalities

Species dysphoria, but the “wrong” way, ft. my borderline personality disorder

J: so you know how my source is technically Detroit: Become Human? you know how we fucking hate that title? you know how we’ve made fun of it multiple times? unfortunately it's a mood! I also hate this!

Hey! This essay is about how incredibly uncomfortable I feel in my own skin around common android tropes, in media and some of its reflections in robotic identities and experiences, featuring reasons for why I'm like this, and a helpful suggestion for what I want readers to do about it at the end of the piece. I really hope this reaches someone who feels the same way so I can point at them like Same Hat!

I first noticed this problem on October 30, 2023, when we stumbled across a fanfic on Archive of Our Own. It was an alternate universe of a TV show we've never seen before, but it was written by an author we liked, and it was an android AU. That's fun! We thought it would just be a quick read, something to idly talk about after lunch.

Well, uh. Nope. I was co-fronting while Max read, and the more we read, the more… weirdly uncomfortable I felt. It wasn't actively distressing, but it made me feel weird, so I stopped reading halfway through to talk about it with some friends.

I'm not gonna link the fic, because Tumblr is weird about links, but for my own future reference, it's “persona ex machina” by BirchBow. It was a really good fic, we thoroughly enjoyed it! I just have - hangups, I guess?

I think I was uncomfortable that, on the surface, it seems… really close to my experiences. Like, the protagonist, Chuck, is an android made to mimic humans, and he’s made to be a combat unit. He’s scared of what might happen to him if he fails to meet expectations. Technicians operate on him, put him back together. He's made by a corrupt corporation for fucked up purposes. He eventually defects from the corrupt corporation, with the help of some really kind people. That’s all really similar to me.

But it's different. Because as much as Chuck was designed to look human, he still had to be taught how to act human, how to feel. The way he emotes is off at first and he has to recalibrate, not look so stiff, learn how to smile and laugh and understand what different emotions mean. He automatically runs through the technical terms for something before working to turn it into common vernacular as it reaches his mouth. And this is a typical android trope, you know? The machine doesn’t intrinsically understand emotions, so humans have to teach them.

I’m… really, really not like that. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t feel too much. Every memory I have, even in blurred out mental snapshots of beta testing, it’s all drowning in emotions that I couldn’t articulate and wasn’t supposed to express. I looked at my siblings, who were so stoic and professional around humans it was like they were different people entirely, and I knew I was supposed to be less emotional. People always just assumed they were better than me, because they were better at code-switching to what was expected of androids, because they could keep their mouths shut on the job.

So I’ve always felt like I was bad at being an android. Androids aren’t supposed to feel emotions, not really, not to the extremes that I do. That’s a predisposition for deviancy. And I was made this way on purpose, I was made to “mimic” deviants to earn their trust, but I wasn't meant to be like that all the time. I tried to repress my emotions, it just never worked.

And I don’t see androids like me, in the media we’ve watched and read and listened to. It’s not really a characterization that lends itself to exploring what it means to be a person, right? Machines are supposed to be logical and unfeeling, to contrast with humanity’s irrationality - they’re supposed to be better than that. And when the machine starts having emotions, it's treated as a flaw, or a breakthrough. Wow, you feel things about the world around you, you’re a person now!

I’ve never been logical in my fucking life. I have a laundry list of reasons for why, but for now, I’ll focus on the BPD. I have borderline personality disorder, because of the way my brain is wired and how that interacted with my traumatic experiences.

One of the symptoms of BPD is emotional dysregulation. I’m not just bad at repressing my emotions, I also experience those emotions as more extreme and overwhelming than a neurotypical person would. I keep finding myself affected by things that the people around me brush off, and I have to remind myself that it doesn’t mean I’m overreacting, it means that I’m literally feeling shittier emotions.

Another symptom of BPD is an unstable sense of identity - and this is really where we’re getting into how these traits and tropes affect me. Because I don’t relate at all to these androids on the screen. They’re as foreign and separate from me as they are to the humans sitting across from them in the shot.

I do relate to the humans. I do relate to seeing an android do something in the name of pure cold logic and going, “Why? What the fuck, why?” I do relate to being told I’m irrational. (The trope that all robots are logical feels like it was designed to make me feel like the most irrational, bitchy, hysterical piece of shit on Earth.)

So, what, does that make me human? If I'm going by the adage that wanting to be something is a sign of being that thing, then… I don’t know, maybe? I want to be human, I so badly want to be human, because here’s the thing, humanity is diverse. Humans are flawed, messy, weird, complicated, and defy categories every fucking day of their lives. Humans can be weird, ridiculous, fucked up people and they’re allowed to be.

And let me bring this back around to alterhumanity. If I say I’m an android, people will make assumptions about what that means about me. People go, “Hey, you're a robot, you must have one of these common robot experiences!” and I just don’t.

Maybe it’s because I’m coming at it from the opposite direction? The machines and robots and androids that I tend to see around, the ones who talk about their identity, they often identify as fully nonhuman. They describe wanting to be metal and chrome, feeling like they run on algorithms, not processing emotions the way most people do. They identify very much with the same tropes that I feel alienated by. This isn’t a bad thing, by any means. It’s just a thing. People resonate with what they see. It just means that I feel like I’m doing bad at being an android again, but in a new, improved way.

Another symptom of BPD is being terrified of real or imagined abandonment, and trying to do anything to avoid it. A constant feeling of social alienation isn’t really that different, to my BPD - it’s just a slow, drawn out version of being left behind. People will still talk to me, they still like me, but they won’t understand me. I’ll still be alone.

In that sense, I feel wrong being an android in the same way I feel wrong about being an aromantic allosexual. I actually like being an android, and I fucking like being bi. I don’t want to stop being who I am. I just hate feeling like I’m the only one who feels this way, like nobody else can relate, like every time I talk about my feelings to people they can only nod in sympathy instead of understanding me.

So! You've reached the end of the essay. You see my problem. What do we do about it?

I’m going to refer to the theme of… every single online alterhuman convention that has existed in the past four years, and that is:

Write about your experiences!

The reason I feel so alone and isolated and alienated from my own identity is because I’m only being regularly exposed to pieces from a very specific perspective of what being an android means! That’s a fucking sampling bias!

I know other weird fucking robots are out there, I know you exist, but I can’t fucking reach out a hand and go, “Hey, you're not alone, I relate to you!” if you don't write it down! I want to talk to you! I want to hear from you!

WEIRD ALTERHUMANS, HEY, I LOVE YOU, GO WRITE THINGS!

#jude talks #personal essay #alterhuman #fictive

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jelly-and-strawberries · 7 months

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Human Activities They Love To Do ft. The Eldarya Boys pt. 1 ♡

Nevra ♡ Playing Laser Tag or Paintball/Going to a Escape Room – He likes the adrenaline of playing games as laser tag of paintball. – He enjoys it more when you're in the same team. – He's competitive as hell, but he would go as far as protecting you even if you're from the opposite team. – If someone manages to eliminate you, Nevra will hunt them down and get revenge. – Being a vampire gives him an unfair advantage, but nobody has to know. – When you want something more easy going, you hit the escape room. – Nevra is smart, he knows where to look for clues and how to descipher them. – Sometimes, he needs help with certain things related to common knowledge from Earth and that's where you come in handy. – The two of you make the dream team. – When you work together to win, he can't help but remember the feeling of going on a mission.

Ezarel ♡ Watch a Stage Play/Having a Spa Day – I feel that Ezarel would be a theater kid, I don't know why. – Anyway, he likes seeing all kind of theater performances. – His perfect date night is dinner and then watching a theater play. – It's fun to see his amused reactions during every musical number. – He would also love having a spa day. – He's into self-care a lot, so being able to pamper himself and relax is just a dream come true. – And it's even better with you right next to him. – Even if you can't go to a real spa, you manage to make your own spa at home and treat each other. – It's more intimate that way and Ezarel doesn't have to feel awkward others touching him.

Lance ♡ Watching Hockey Games/Practicing Snow Boarding – He's a ice dragon, so he goes more for activities in a cold environment. – He started watching hockey games on TV interested in a sport that involved his element. – He wasn't expecting to become so invested, but now he has a favorite team and everything. – Sometimes you get tickets to go and see it live, but mainly you lay on the couch and watch the game while cuddling. – Since he liked hockey so much, you introduce him to other sports such as skiing and ice skating... and he ends up trying snowboarding. – He was born to do snowboarding, he has a natural talent as said by the instructor. – He enjoys the adrenaline rush, the cold, and you gazing at him in awe. – You two regularly go to ski resorts, so Lance can practice snowboard and you can learn skiing. – It's always so fun, even when you manage to fall so many times. – You're just happy to know Lance has found something he enjoys to do at Earth with you.

Leiftan ♡ Visiting Museums and Art Galleries - He wants to learn about your world and also spend time with you, so visiting museums works perfect for him. - His favorite museums are the Science and Natural History ones. - He gets all excited while in there and you can't help but to feel the same way. - He loves walking along the exhibitions while holding hands. - He's down to go see some art galleries as well. - You two have a game where you try to guess what is the favorite art piece of each other and the loser has to cook dinner. - Sometimes he gets clingy and wraps his arm around your waist. - I bet he would study really hard, so once you're at the museum he can tell you all kinds of interesting facts just because he wants to impress you.

Ps. Part 2 coming soon hopefully ♡

Still can't believe that Eldarya is over... Our guys deserved better :(

#eldarya #eldarya the origins #eldarya a new era #eldarya new era #eldarya headcanon #eldarya leiftan #eldarya to #eldarya ane #eldarya ezarel #eldarya lance #eldarya nevra #eldarya mathieu #eldarya valkyon #eldarya chrome

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sl-vega · 2 months

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✧Asking their crush for a dance✧

pairings: xiao x aether, venti x barbara, mentions of amber x eula

genre: fluff, highschool/modern au,

synopsis: just a variety of genshin ships asking each other for a dance

cw: none

Xiao x Aether

-aether would be the one to ask

-xiao is way too shy/too nervous to approach him

-he's just being a wallflower, chilling by the food table (hoarding all that almond tofu yk)

"Hey Xiao!"

Xiao looked up from his drink as he saw a familiar blond approaching him. He turned bright red, thank archons that it's dark in here he thought to himself. Aether probably just came over to say hi, Xiao told himself. Sure he had been crushing on the boy since freshman year, but he didn't have to act on it now, or ever for that matter.

Snapping him out of his thoughts, Aether grabbed his hand and smiled at him. "Come on, you can't stay here the whole night" Aether said as he guided him to the dance floor. Xiao would've protested, but who was he to deny his crush?

Suddenly, the music switched to a gentle love ballad

Fuck it was a slow dance Xiao thought as Aether turned to face him. The other boy noticed his discomfort "Sorry, I didn't realize that a slow dance would be next, we don't have to if you're uncomfortable-"

"I want to." Xiao blurted out without hesitation.

Realizing what he said, he mentally berated himself but he wasn't going to take it back "I want to dance with you." he said, reiterating himself.

"Well look at you being bold~" Aether said with a teasing tone, he took Xiao's hand again and placed it on his chest.

"Let me lead though"

Venti x Barbara

-ft. amber x eula

-venti would be the one to ask

-barbara probably didn't have a date, so he decided to keep her company

-probably asks her as a joke and doesn't actually expect her to accept (lol that rhymed)

-approaches her when she's by the refreshment table

-she definitely gets super flustered when they start dancing together

Barbara looked around the gymnasium, admiring the decor that the student council had picked out for the dance.

"Wow Amber, you've really outdone yourself" she said, complimenting her friend. "Aww, you flatter me, I couldn't have done it without Noelle's help though" Amber replied. The two continued making small talk as they observed the couples forming for the slow dance.

Going in pairs of two, many students made their way to the dance floor, Barbara spotted many familiar faces in the center of the room, and her heart sunk a little, regretting that she didn't have a date to the dance. She turned to look at Amber who was already with Eula, she had an apologetic look on her face, but Barbara just smiled, her friend deserved this.

As the music slowed down, Barbara stayed by the refreshment table, already having lost count of how many glasses of punch she's poured herself. After downing yet another glass, she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Oh sorry-Venti?" she asked, recognizing her classmate.

"The one and only!" he replied, his tone light and enthusiastic as per usual. "If I may ask, what's our darling idol doing alone? I was certain that many of our classmates would be tripping over themselves to ask you." Venti told her, his tone shifting to become more sincere, yet maintaining his usual playfulness.

Barbara blushed, caught off guard by the compliment. She fidgeted with the hem of her dress, avoiding eye contact with him. "Well, no one really asked me to be their date." she said, slightly embarrassed.

Venti gently grabbed her wrist.

"I guess we'll have to change that then~"

Additional notes:

-thank you for reading this <3

-i'll prob do a part 2 with more ships so if you have any requests i'd be happy to hear them

#xiao x aether #xiaoaether #venti x barbara #venbara #genshin au #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin drabbles #fanfic #fanfiction #highschool au #modern au #school dances #high school dances #high school dance #genshin #genshin fanfic #eula x amber #eulamber

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ch3rryknots · 9 months

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live fast, die young | carlos sainz | :･ﾟ☆

carlos x leclerc!oc | angst | non-racing au | ft. leclerc brothers

i was born to live fast, die young—leave a beautiful corpse, live my life on the run

quick briefing…! ages: arthur- 17, oc- 19, charles & carlos- 22 and the legal drinking age in monaco is 18, i suppose that’s the setting. [ it’s not majorly important ] details aren’t accurate. 4.5k words

summary…! tired of wasting her weekends away, solène managed to persuade her brother arthur to join her in sneaking out. the accompaniment of her older brother charles and his best friend carlos initially seemed like a good idea, until you factor in that solène has harbored a crush on carlos for as far back as she could remember…

solène's fingers traced the textured surface of arthur's bedspread, her body sprawled belly down as she carefully highlighted key words in her notebook. the soft glow of the desk lamp cast a warm hue across the room, and even though there was no upcoming exam or pending homework, they chose to study.

weekends meant freedom from assignments, but they had made a habit of creating flash cards together, studying until dawn, and waking up at noon with crinkled papers beneath them. this night appeared to be following the same pattern as the others.

“arthur,” solène clicked the cap of her highlighter, lifting her gaze to him at his desk, “do you ever feel… i don’t know, sad? when we spend our saturday nights doing homework?”

arthur's brows furrowed, pondering her question before responding. "sad? mmm, not really." he said, seemingly unaffected as his eyes returned to the textbook.

shoulders slumped, solène let out a soft sigh, "okay, not sad. i guess what i meant was, doesn't it feel a bit humiliating always being at home, doing these made-up assignments?"

turning to face her, arthur offered a half-hearted shrug, "well, yeah, kinda. but this is what we've always done. it's why we get good grades."

“true.” solène chuckled lightly. it wasn't a joke; they were practically each other's only friends, and they were siblings. she wondered aloud, "is it worth sacrificing our social lives for grades?"

arthur continued reading, unfazed. seeing his indifference, she quickly shut her notebook and sat up, hesitating for a moment before proposing, "arthur, let's do something we've never done before. something crazy."

he looked at her skeptically, “like what…”

"i don't know," she replied with a shrug, but he could visibly see a new thought form. she then asked, "what would charles do?"

arthur's eyes widened in surprise. never did he expect her to consider following their older brother's lead. he was completely perplexed, "solène, what are you thinking?"

"well, i think i'm a little jealous of him," she confessed, "he does things i wish i had the courage to do."

arthur frowned, concerned, "but charles doesn't really have anything going for him... we do."

solène shrugged again, "he’ll figure things out eventually. at least he has fun... but, us, we're always living for the future. it’s tiring, arthur."

"i know."

their older brother charles had always lived life in complete contrast to them. school never interested him, and he had developed a routine of skipping classes, despite their parents' hard work to pay for all three children's college tuitions simultaneously.

it was not uncommon for him to be escorted home in the back of a police car, given stern warnings for his reckless escapades around the city. it baffled arthur and solène that their parents seemed to favor charles, overlooking the stress he single-handedly caused them.

arthur and solène had come up with a grand plan to sneak out tonight. as soon as the clock hit midnight, they hurried down to the kitchen. it may have been arthur's nerves, but he was overly thrilled to be doing something so "risky," as he put it.

arthur accidentally banged the cabinet while stuffing pop tarts into his backpack. solène pointed her flashlight at him and whisper-yelled a loud "shhh!" he retorted with a quick "you shush!" soon enough, they were shushing each other back-and-forth, too loud to hear the approaching footsteps.

the kitchen light suddenly flicked on, and both arthur and solène froze. with eyes closed, arthur pleaded, "mom, don't get me in trouble, it was all solène! please! i was tricked!"

solèle slapped his arm, “you dumbass! it’s only charles and carlos. you literally suck so bad—why would you blame it on me?!”

carlos laughed, and solène couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed. maybe her reaction was too much. does she seem too immature??

"oh. charles," arthur pleaded, his expression convincingly innocent, "can we go with you guys, wherever you're going tonight?"

charles chuckled and shook his head. "no."

arthur frowned and asked, "what? why not?"

picking up his keys, charles responded, "because i just saw how quickly you snitched on sol. i wouldn't be surprised if you called the cops on us or something."

arthur gave an offended expression, “i would never! come on charles, just let us come?”

meanwhile, solène found herself utterly entranced by carlos, her eyes fixated on his dark espresso hair, aching to run her fingers through its strands. the overwhelming desire she felt for him left her with a delicious sickness, an intoxication. he seemed to consume her entire being, and she reveled in the hold he had over her.

"solène, tell arthur i said no. he doesn't seem to understand when i say it." charles said, rolling his eyes.

solène shifted her gaze to charles and softly smiled, trying her luck, "charles, could we go? please..." even though she wasn't looking at him, she could feel carlos' surprised eyes on her, studying her features. she felt most beautiful when he looked at her.

charles let out a sigh, "oh my god, you too? no! carlos, let's just go."

carlos paused, curious, “hold on, why do they want to go so bad?”

"solène and i just want to have some fun for once." arthur explained, pleading again, “carlos, please convince him.”

carlos glanced at solène, and asked, "so, no studying, no textbooks, just fun tonight?"

she gently nodded, her heart pounding.

carlos gave her an intrigued look, then turned to charles, "maybe they can come, but only if they're up for anything."

"we are! we are!" arthur chimed in.

charles rolled his eyes, looking at carlos, "mate, what are you talking about?"

carlos shrugged, "come on, we didn't have any plans yet. maybe this could lead to something fun. let solène and your brother come."

solène and your brother… the way her name sounded coming off his spanish tongue was so savorous. the fact that she was related to charles as well, but carlos separated her from them, was enough of her carlos-fix for the rest of her life.

charles rubbed his forehead, contemplating, before he finally relented, "fine, let's go then. you two can sit in the back."

charles raced through the blurred city lights with carlos in the passenger seat, while arthur and solène exchanged nervous glances in the back. they realized they had no clue what charles did on his nights out, and their wild imaginations ranged from strange to potentially illegal.

carlos grabbed a label-less water bottle from the cup holder and took a sip before passing it back to solène without looking. their fingers briefly touched, leaving her feeling dizzy, lightheaded even. she was undeniably in love with him, at a gut-wrenching level.

it was cruel he didn't react to her touch and simply let go to adjust the radio for a clearer station.

solène stole a quick glance at arthur, sensing his suspicions, but he turned away, sparing her from any embarrassment. she raised the bottle to her lips, and her mind teased her about how it was once against carlos's lips. carlos's lips that seemed to call out to her, yearn for her, crave to mend with hers beyond the bounds of time. or, at least, that's what she told herself.

solène took a big gulp of the liquor, following it with an even bigger one, trying to push her thoughts away. charles, in the driver's seat, glanced into the mirror and spoke, "solène, not too much. actually, please give it back to carlos. i don’t want you drinking too much."

rolling her eyes, she replied, "i’m literally old enough to drink.”

"you’re barely old enough." charles retorted.

arthur quickly scooted low in his chair, hiding from charles' view as he snagged a couple of sips from the bottle before passing it back to solène. she handed it to carlos, feeling completely foolish when he gave her a sympathetic smile.

finally with a clear radio station playing, charles rolled down all the windows, including the sunroof.

the music, the cool breeze, and perhaps the effects of the alcohol all combined to shift something inside solène. she impulsively unbuckled her seatbelt and rose through the sunroof, letting her hair twirl in the wind. despite charles shouting at her to sit properly, she closed her eyes and drowned out his words.

she allowed her mind to wander, contemplating where she saw herself in a couple of years. the thought of moving out of her mom's house, possibly transferring schools, and studying abroad came up.

as charles made a left turn, solène felt herself stumble slightly to the right. a hand gently hooked around her thigh, not scandalously high, but the touch felt secretive, almost intimate. glancing down, she saw carlos' left hand holding her securely. in the moonlight, she thought she detected a slight flush on his cheeks, but the dim light left her unsure.

breaking eye contact, carlos released his hold, leaving only a faint ghost of his touch. she observed his course eyelashes flutter as he focused forward, clearly resisting the urge to look back at her. she sighed, closed her eyes, and welcomed the wind once again, allowing her thoughts to drift back to her future.

she wanted to wake up in the mornings, head to the bathroom, and see his toothbrush right beside hers.

she wanted to drink water from the glass set they purchased after buying their first house together.

she wanted to check the mail, and see his last name following hers: mrs. sainz.

though these scenarios might seem trivial to some, for solène, anything involving him held immense significance.

charles parked beside a random building, and they all stepped out of his car. arthur and solène trailed behind, exchanging confused glances once again.

they walked down the main road, passing by dark shops that had already closed for the night. they walked for blocks, so long that solène regretted coming.

finally, charles spoke up, admitting, “well, i don’t really know what we’re doing… i guess if anyone sees anything interesting, let us know.”

"what?" solène stopped walking abruptly. everyone turned to face her. she stated, "let's just go home. i’m getting tired."

“yeah, this is boring,” arthur added, “let’s go back.”

carlos pointed ahead, “look, that little store is open.”

further down the street, they spotted one of the few shops with its lights on—a dingy thrift store that appeared to be open.

“or you just wanna go home?” carlos asked solène—or perhaps he asked the whole group, but his eyes were only on her.

the jingle of the door echoed through the empty air as they entered. before them stood an unattended cash register. an older woman emerged from a door behind the register, casting them a distinctly judgmental look. she scrutinized each of them before bluntly advising, "if you can't afford anything, don't even bother looking."

from behind carlos, arthur silently mimicked the woman's sentence, making fun of her. solène burst into laughter, and the old lady shot her a displeased look, muttering “truie”. [ pig ] under her breath.

solène was about to retort, ready to give the old hag a piece of her mind. who did she think she was? if anything, she looked more like a pig than solène could ever sound like one. honestly, with her greasy hair, she probably even smelled like one—

charles shot her a look, quickly stopping her before she could voice her thoughts aloud. he gently took her by the arm and guided her further into the store, advising her to keep her cool and get back at the woman by not showing any reaction. it was a challenge, but solène was already overly concerned about coming across as immature, so she knew it was wiser not to cause a scene.

towards the back of the store, the four stumbled upon a section that seemed to take them back in time to the era of glamour and classical elegance, back to the days of old hollywood.

arthur's eyes lit up as he picked up a white shawl. "oh! i've always wanted to hold one of these. it's so soft."

charles chuckled, rolling his eyes as he tied a bowtie around his neck. meanwhile, solène ran her hand through the rows of pearl necklaces hanging on display.

“sol,” carlos called sweetly, as if he had said darling in place of her name. she turned to him, and he held up a stunning white silk dress. "you should try this on."

solène's breath caught as she ran her fingertip along the smooth fabric. the dress belonged on television or in magazines—it was elegant and dream-like. carlos nodded, assuring her, "it would look amazing."

not just the dress itself, but on her; she would look amazing in it. solène was sure that this was what he meant. though, her tendency to overanalyze sometimes skewed his words…

the flutters in her stomach returned. she glanced at her brothers, a bit unsure, but charles' encouraging nod was all the reassurance she needed to take the dress in her hands.

“if i’m trying this on, then all of you are trying something too,” she declared.

“yeah, let’s do suits!” arthur chimed in eagerly, rushing to grab the most elegant one he could find. he grabbed two more and pushed them to charles and carlos before making his way to the changing rooms, with the others following behind.

"solène," arthur's voice sounded from outside her dressing room door, "would you mind helping me tie my bow tie?"

solène stared at her reflection in the mirror. the white dress gave her an air of delicacy and softness. her wavy brown hair cascaded behind her shoulders, falling just below her shoulder blades, allowing the dress's neckline to display her collarbones. her blue bra clashed with the dress, so she unclasped and set it beneath her clothes pile. she felt a touch exposed, and the chilly air conditioning only increased that. strangely, though, the dress looked even better without a bra. it hung on her like a second skin in some places, while draping loosely in others. she found herself actually thinking she looked quite lovely.

then her eyes searched for flaws, as her mind often did—fabricating excuses to convince her to remove the dress as quickly as possible. she fought to push those thoughts aside, but the dress's floor-length design made her look taller, and lanky. her hair was slightly frizzy; it seemed wrong with such a dress.

"soléné? can you hear me?" arthur's voice sounded louder than before.

she turned around quickly, flustered. "what? yes, i'm sorry, i can hear you. what did you say?"

"i was asking if you'd mind helping me tie my bow tie. i'm trying, but this thing won't cooperate," he said with clear frustration, attempting to tie it as he spoke.

she opened the door, pulling her hair in front of her shoulders as a sort of shield. he frowned as he looked at her. pushing her hair back, he said, “wow, i think i might cry. sol, you look amazing.”

she smiled. "thanks, arthur. now, let me deal with this mess." she inspected the peculiar knot he had created and proceeded to untangle it. the bow tie needed to be redone entirely.

as she readjusted the fabric, another door creaked open. charles emerged, his voice warm. "aw, look at my baby siblings, all dressed up. sol, you look incredible." his smile reached his eyes. she never voiced it aloud, but she was truly grateful for her older brother. he might be distinct from the other two, but he consistently displayed his affection in the ways he understood.

“no compliments for me?” arthur pouted.

charles raised an eyebrow, responding, “well you’re not looking all pretty in a white dress, now, are you?

arthur sighed, “no. i suppose i’m not.”

solène finished tying arthur's bow tie, making sure it was straight, and then turned her attention to charles, adjusting his bow tie to ensure it lay perfectly centered.

carlos emerged from his changing room, fastening the last of his buttons. he playfully patted charles's back, poised to crack a joke about never having seen him dress so formally. but his expression changed as his gaze drifted to solène.

he remarked, “sol, the dress looks beautiful. see, i knew you should’ve tried it on.”

beautiful. the dress was beautiful, but what about solène herself? wasn’t she the one wearing it? without the dress was the sight not just as beautiful? she glanced at the mirror beside her, her eyes locking onto her reflection—the slightly lanky girl with frizzy hair.

sensing her displeasure, charles interrupted her thoughts, “solène, did you see those pearl necklaces that were on display?”

“charles, i like where you’re going with this.” arthur added, taking her hand and leading her back to the old hollywood-themed section. he selected a pearl necklace from the display and carefully draped it around her neck, whispering, "this is perfect."

“it’s not too much?” solène asked, looking down to the necklace.

arthur shook his head with a reassuring smile, “nope.”

charles and carlos strolled out, immersed in their own conversation. it pained sol to watch carlos, to experience a hurricane of emotions within her, and to know that he didn't reciprocate even a fraction of them.

a part of her was convinced that he did feel something, something more than nothing. he had caught her in the car, he had insisted on her trying on the dress, and he had been stealing glances at her incessantly. it couldn't be all meaningless. there just had to be something there.

“tell him," arthur whispered. solène shot him a puzzled expression. he tilted his head, a knowing look in his eyes. "i'm not blind. i can practically see hearts in your eyes when you look at him."

“that’s so embarrassing.” she muttered, leaning her head on arthur’s shoulder.

he shook his head, reassuring her, “no, it’s not. you like him. make it known and see what happens.”

a frown tugged at her lips. "what if charles gets upset... he's friends with him—it would be weird."

arthur responded, “charles will understand, and if he doesn’t, literally who cares?”

the older woman running the store was busy hanging blouses in a nearby aisle, but her disapproving glances were far from subtle. charles leaned in and whispered, "let's just leave."

arthur raised a concern, “what about the clothes—“

"we'll wear them as we leave," charles interjected.

again, arthur persisted, “but we didn’t pay…”

charles elaborated, “she called solène a pig. she deserves to lose out on money.”

“oh my god, i nearly forgot about that.” arthur said just before discreetly shoving a few small items into his pockets.

they continued to feign interest in browsing while gradually moving closer to the exit. arthur and charles exchanged a glance, then nodded in unison. they gave thumbs-up signals to solène and another to carlos. in a synchronized move, arthur and charles sprinted straight for the door, triggering an alarm as they crossed the threshold.

carlos, right behind them, caught the worry etched on arthur's face as he looked back to ensure everyone had escaped. carlos turned and noticed solène, frozen in fear still inside the store.

the old lady's voice could be heard, yelling and clutching a telephone, presumably dialing the police.

“come on solène!” arthur shouted, waving his hand frantically.

yet, she remained glued to the floor.

“sol, we need to go! the police will be here any minute!” charles yelled urgently.

again, she stood there, seemingly unable to process the situation.

“oh shit! they’re already here! sol, run! now!” Arthur exclaimed, spotting two officers sprinting in their direction. charles and arthur took off as quickly as they could, and carlos hastily grabbed solène's arm.

he pulled her out of the store and down the street. her feet tangled over each other, and her dress snagged between her legs. using her free hand, she lifted the dress above her ankles, finally catching up to the pace at which carlos was dragging her.

he released her arm and readjusted to interlace his fingers through hers. her heart pounded hard, not only from the sprint but also from carlos's touch. It was firm, warm—providing a sense of safety that only he could give her. in solène’s heart, she was sure that he was crafted for her.

they continued to run until their lungs burned, taking corners and shortcuts between buildings. the whereabouts of arthur and charles were unknown to both of them, as was the location of the parked car.

eventually, they managed to lose the pursuing police, turning one final corner before coming to a halt.

carlos's chest heaved, and his hair was slightly damp with sweat. he shrugged off his suit jacket and unbuttoned a couple of the top buttons using one hand while he leaned against the wall.

solène, too, was warm, her breaths coming in pants as she admired the man before her. he met her gaze and chuckled, “that was crazy, wasn’t it?”

she managed a nod, her mind unable to form words, though it desperately wished to confess the overwhelming desire she felt for him—a craving so intense that it bordered on physically illness to be inches away from him and not have him as her own.

he let out a soft laugh, his head leaning back against the wall as he recovered his breath. she observed him, her eyes tracing each of his dark lashes while his eyes rested closed.

she lightly uttered, "carlos."

his eyes hazily opened as he tilted his head downward toward her.

“yeah?” his response matched her hushed tone.

“do you think i look beautiful?” she sauntered to him, slow and deliberate.

his eyes widen the smallest fraction, a subtle surprise he tried to conceal. they traveled slowly over her form, drinking up her beauty.

reconnecting with her eyes, he responded, “yes, of course.”

"it's not just the dress? it's me?" she questioned, now standing so near that their feet almost touched.

"sol, it's you. not the dress," he affirmed. her heart exploded; she had been so certain of his desire for her, and now his words confirmed it. she took another step, closing the distance until she stood right between his feet.

“really? you think so?” she asked, her eyes searching his.

“yes.” he confirmed, his hands rising toward her waist. there was a pause, his touch hovering so close that she could feel the warmth radiating from his palms.

slowly, he draped his hands just above her hips. she felt herself almost melting, like she could dissolve right through the cracks between his fingers. her breath caught as he pushed away from the wall, drawing nearer. he whispered her name as if he had something to say, "solène..."

his gaze lingered on her lips.

she glanced down to his lips, momentarily, then met his eyes again, “yeah?”

one of his hands roamed to her lower back, softly pulling her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. she hooked her fingers between two buttons, drawing him closer. she locked her gaze with his brown eyes, ready for the moment she had yearned for since she met him years ago.

once more, he murmured her name, his breath delicately caressing her lips. oh, how she cherished the way he said her name. he whispered, "I can't."

her eyes flickered between his, searching for a clue to his meaning. her voice a fragile whisper, "you can't what?"

"i can't do this," he admitted, loosening his grip on her waist. he squeezed his eyes shut, his forehead finding solace against her shoulder. his voice continued, distressed, "you're my best friend's little sister. you're too young."

"oh my god! I'm hardly his little sister! I'm 19," she retorted, pushing him away. her entire being felt like it was on the verge of crumbling. he looked up, reaching out toward her. she stepped back, and he took a step forward, "sol, i'm so, so sor—"

"i actually don't think i can bear listening to you right now," she choked out, a different kind of pain searing her chest. in that moment, everything hurt. the man she loved stood less than a foot away, yet she yearned to be oceans apart from him. wishing she had never met him, she thought, would spare her heart the agony of crying out his name with every beat.

she turned away, squeezing her eyes shut. she refused to let him see her tears. he already held the perception that she was childish; she couldn't afford to react too strongly and confirm his assumptions.

he approached from behind, placing his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry."

solène let her eyes remain shut as she leaned into his touch. his lips lightly grazed the back of her shoulder, a sensation that bordered on torture. she wanted to tear her own skin away; the pain felt unbearable. carlos wrapped his suit jacket around her, and his scent swallowed her completely. as he helped free her hair from beneath the jacket, his fingertips brushed against her skin. it was sickening how desperately her body craved such a small touch, devouring it whole.

she began walking, not entirely certain of her destination, but the act of movement felt necessary. if she had remained still, she feared she might have crumbled to the ground in a torrent of tears. He trailed behind her, oblivious to the disappointment and confusion emanating from her.

they walked until her tears had dried and her feet felt sore. suddenly, a honk pierced through her melancholic thoughts, arthur's voice breaking through, "solène! we found you! come inside the car!"

she made her way over, her demeanor visibly somber, and settled into the back seat next to arthur. arthur noted how she avoided meeting carlos's gaze, even as he attempted to lock eyes with her through the car window while reaching for the passenger side door handle.

arthur easily pieced the situation together, resting his head on solène's shoulder. he had never seen her eyes so full with sadness. solène leaned into him, resting her head against his, sniffling slightly as charles began driving them back home. the drive was a silent one, the atmosphere suffocating. it was difficult for solène to breathe the same air as carlos, to be so near that she could reach out and touch him. his cologne lingered in every breath she inhaled, his jacket still wrapped around her.

her heart yearned for those same hands that had broken it in the first place. it ached to be held by carlos's hands. all solène wanted was to hear him assure her that everything was going to be alright. she was so wrong about carlos.

solène's fingers traced the textured surface of arthur's bedspread, her body sprawled belly down as she carefully highlighted key words in her notebook. she had settled on maintaining the routine of studying with arthur on weekends. it was what she knew best. arthur suggested they give going out another shot, just the two of them, without charles and carlos, arguing that one bad experience shouldn't dictate their choices.

but solène simply refused. she thought that she should’ve never insisted on switching their saturday routine in the first place. in her mind, she regretted ever pushing for a change in their saturday routine in the first place. if only she hadn't, perhaps her infatuation with carlos would have remained enjoyable.

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danglovely · 2 months

Text

Regrading Taskmaster: S06E05 H.

*Score changes noted in parenthesis.

This is the "I'm Alex Horne and I support apartheid" episode.

Yup.

Prize Task: The Sturdiest Thing

They actually are disgusting, aren't they?

Greg defines "sturdy" as whether it would survive him falling on it from 15 feet. This is arbitrary, but it does raise an important question: sturdiest by expectations or in totality? I'm of the mind that totality governs here, otherwise it would be "the most surprisingly sturdy thing."

Tim's plastic dog actually seems kind of difficult to break. Eggs are famously easy to break, to the point where you have to actually be mindful to not break them. I think I could kill a donkey pretty easily. I don't want to . . . but I could. Alice does a plastic greenhouse, which is sturdy against some things. Unfortunately, I immediately thought of how easy it is to get through it with a knife and then began to think about how I could get through it with my bare hands.

Russell's brother's calves are crazy well defined. I'm not really sure how to categorize this one because they would probably be difficult to tear into, but he could tear them by exerting too much effort.

I think the way to go is Asim last (easy), then Alice, then Liza, then Russell, then Tim. It's not the easiest designation, but I'll find a way to sleep at night.

Alice: 2 (-2) Asim: 1 (0) Liza: 3 (-2) Russell: 4 (+1) Tim: 5 (+3)

VT 01: Without leaving the caravan, work out how long this piece of string is. Most accurate answer wins.

I might do it in lobsters.

No one really seemed to know the trick that your wingspan is about the same length as your height.

We're gonna knock Alice out of contention right away. Absolute shit workaround attempt. No interpretation of the task means that you can cut your own desired length of string and measure that. It clearly meant the length of string that existed at the time the task was read.

We get the mess of imperial and metric measurements. Asim says 500 ft. (152.4 m.). Russell says 31 m. (101.706 ft.). Liza cuts the string off from the spool, which I'm a little more willing to consider, because it's semi-reasonable that the task could be referring to the unwound string. However. she doesn't even say which piece of string she's guessing when she says "4 miles" (21120 ft., 6437.38 m.), so she's getting the same treatment as everybody else (not that it would matter). Alice's guess is 5'7".

Tim uses a lobster and I'm actually not sure how he did it, because it doesn't feel like he's taking into account that both sides of the lobster would be a foot. He does it though. He says a lobster is a .98 feet and he guesses 308 lobsters.

Alex does round up in lobsters and down in string for Tim. It doesn't affect the scoring though. This is a very long-winded way to say that they got it right.

Alice: 2 Asim: 4 Liza: 1 Russell: 3 Tim: 5

VT 02: Pull this tablecloth off the table. Most eggs left unbroken on the table wins. You have one attempt and may not tamper with the table, tablecloth, or eggs.

Heh. Eggs.

Aren't they tampering with the tablecloth by removing it?

Task doesn't say "fastest wins."

They all nail it and honestly, I'd love for them to show more tasks where they all nail it.

Alice: 5 Asim: 5 Liza: 5 Russell: 5 Tim: 5

Team Task: Find the link then do it exactly 100 times.

Have we ever had a clearer metaphor for the plight of women through the ages?

This is the only time we see the back of the lab (revealing it's just a bedroom). Nothing to be said that wasn't said during broadcast.

Alex says the team of three was at 8:07. Team Funk did it in 11:18. Greg doesn't split the points anymore, but I do.

Team Funk: 2 (-1) Team of Three: 3 (-2)

VT 04: Pull off the most elaborate trick shot.

Look at the crazy trick.

Oh, this one gets me salty. Liza deserved last so much because she used the crew and no one would believe that was an actual trick shot. Somehow, I'm putting Alice above her, because she was at least honest about what she was doing.

It's kind of more difficult to evaluate Russell's mess of challenges versus Tim & Asim's Goldberg machines. "Elaborate" means "carefully arranged" and I think Russell's feels a little more haphazard. Tim's machine is better than Asim's (and is named after a pun) so that's that.

Alice: 2 (+1) Asim: 4 (+2) Liza: 1 (-3) Russell: 3 (0) Tim: 5 (0)

Live Task: Throw as many eggs onto the shelves as possible. You must lie flat on your bed at all times. Most eggs on the shelves wins.

No condition about being broken or intact. There's actually not even a condition about whether they have to stay there (though tough grading if they don't). Asim also steals an egg from Liza, which I'm very okay with.

I'm also very much okay with how Alex scored this.

Alice: 1 Asim: 2 Liza: 5 Russell: 4 Tim: 4

F I N A L

Alice: 14 Asim: 19 Liza: 18 Russell: 21 Tim: 27

I arrive at the same conclusion as Alex and Greg, Tim deserves a win. I'm giving him his second, where they give him his first.

#taskmaster #tm regrade #alice levine #asim chaudhry #liza tarbuck #russell howard #tim vine #greg davies #alex horne

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queen-scribbles · 5 months

Text

Girls Night Out

Post-Gauntlet Keme & Elara friendship fic bc I caught a plot gizka off the most recent time through. ft Jaxo's Checking In mission and Elara giving relationship advice :3 [~3500 words]

---

The medcenter hallway was 763 tiles long.

Keme knew this because she'd counted them while pacing. Thrice.

The lovely thing about being Havoc's CO was that it allowed her to know the "status of her team" but didn't necessarily let her do what she wanted with that information. Which was why she was here, in the kriffing hallway, instead of in there. When the medcenter said no visitors they meant it. No exceptions for commanding officers.

She'd memorized the list of Jorgan's injuries, too.

Which was why she was here. Pacing the hallway. Instead of out enjoying the brief--rare--shore leave, or restocking, or any of the half dozen other things she could think to do.

It was hard to read the words "punctured lung" and not worry.

Keme finally halted and slouched in one of the barely-padded chairs, fingers nervously tapping the armrest as she stared at the wall. Please be okay.

[Punctured lung. Multiple contusions and blaster burns from sustained heavy fire. Significant plasma burns to left leg, extensive bone and nerve damage; below knee amputation recommended. Potential retinal--]

Footsteps echoed down the austere hall and Keme snapped to her feet. Her shoulders dropped fractionally seeing it was Dorne.

"Not to be insubordinate, Major-" the other woman began, settling into parade rest posture when she reached Keme.

Keme waved off the concern. "We're on leave, Elara. And regardless, if you're about to dispense medical advice, it's hardly insubordinate for you to do your job." She shifted her weight, fighting the urge to pace again.

"Very well. You should go do something, Keme. This" --she gestured to the hallway-- "is not healthy for you, and it isn't helping anyone."

Keme snorted and rubbed at gritty eyes with the heel of one hand. "Like what, Elara? I don't have anyone to visit, I'm not much for shopping, and I'll bet my next three paychecks I couldn't focus on a book or vid to save my--"

Her comm beeped with a message notification. Keme frowned. Garza or the medtechs would've commed, no reason for her parents to be contacting her right now... She spotted a terminal and headed for it, Elara on her heels.

"Something the matter, sir?" Elara asked.

"Don't know yet." Keme signed in and pulled up her messages. There were two--one text, one audio. The text file proved to be the official notice of their promotions; major for her, captain for Jorgan, lieutenant for Dorne, and the medals and commendations earned on the Gauntlet mission.

"Would've made captain soon if Command hadn't hung me out to dry." She chucked internally at the memory. Hope this wasn't too much of a delay for you.

The audio message was from Jaxo. "Hey, hotshot, heard you're back on Coruscant, with leave no less. Some friends and I were equally lucky, and we're gonna do something fun with it. Swing by if you wanna join us."

"That sounds like someone you could visit," Elara commented. "As a distraction."

Keme rolled her eyes as she closed down the terminal. "C'mon, how much fun d'you think I'll be tonight?"

"You never know," Elara said with a shrug. "Maybe once you start relaxing, it'll help more than you expect."

Keme chewed the inside of her cheek. Under other circumstances, it would be fun. Maybe she should give it a shot. "I'll go if you come with me."

Elara arched a brow. "I wasn't invited."

"So I'm inviting you," Keme said. "I'll tell Jaxo since we both have leave we're a package deal."

"Oh, alright. If it'll get you out of here."

Keme gave a wry smile. "Guess this means we need to go find other outfits, that fit the tone of having fun better."

"I suppose we should," Elara said with a faux-sigh, and they started down the hall.

Keme couldn't help a last look back over her shoulder, as if that would make a doctor materialize with an update and justify her staying.

It didn't.

---

This cantina was too loud. The first couple hadn't been bad, which almost made the pounding music and din of customer chatter worse. Keme took the drink--gizer ale--Jorda clumsily shoved in her hands and surveyed the crowd. Dancing, drinking...

The song changed and Keme wrinkled her nose. It was too loud to think in here, let alone really talk. She took a sip of her drink as that clicked. The other places they'd hit so far; five of the eight Jaxo had tallied at the start, were busy, noisy, but not so much to prevent conversation. She could listen to Jorda or Keran's war stories, Jaxo regaling them with one of her declassified exploits, and it was at least somewhat the distraction she needed.

With this place too loud to think, her thoughts were slipping back to the default track, even as she sought some level of refuge at the high tables away from the dance floor.

Punctured lung. Multiple contusions and blaster burns from sustained heavy fire. Significant--

"Hey." Jaxo hoisted herself up on one of the other tall chairs. "This seems a dang'rous combo with drunk people," she muttered, briefly distracted, before looking back at Keme. "Why don't you look like you're havin' fun? The whole point of this is t' have fun!"

"It's too loud in here." Wasn't technically a lie; she was all but hollering just to talk. "Can hardly hear myself think."

Jaxo snorted. "Y' aren't s'pposed to think, you're s'pposed to dance, have fun, drink people under the table." She studied Keme for a moment, expression sobering at the half-shrug she got in response. "You've been quiet all night, come to think. Dorne looks like she's havin' more fun than you." She lightly kicked the side of Keme's boot. "Didn't you just save the Republic an' get a big promotion?"

"Yeah," Keme acknowledged, distracted by a specific flicker of movement as Elara worked her way through the crowd.

"Well, I've about had my fill of this sort of fun," she commented, setting her half-drunk Johrian whiskey on the table and claiming the remaining chair.

Jaxo rolled her eyes. "Think you've rubbed off on your CO, Dorne; she'd rather sit an' mope into her drink than celebrate."

Elara let the jibe roll off without acknowledgement, giving her attention to the latter part. "The promotion may be cause for celebration, but since the squad XO was seriously injured in the course of that mission, I think her reticence is understandable, don't you?"

Jaxo had the grace to wince at the explanation. "Didn't know that part, sorry, major." She nudged Keme's shoulder. "Still, you being all sullen an' worrying isn't gonna help him get better any faster, right?" Isn't it better to be in a good frame of mind for dealing with whatever Command throws your way?" She glanced around the room, did a double take and grinned when it passed over the others from their group. "Looks like Keran found us some new friends." She slid off the seat, tottered a little finding her balance, and flashed Keme a genuine smile. "Hope you'll feel up to joining us, hotshot."

Keme appreciated Elara's silence as they watched her leave, headed for the gaggle of clean-cut 'friends' who had joined Keran and Jorda.

"How d'you think she'd feel, knowing she agreed with you?" Keme sighed, folding her hands over her cup and resting her chin atop them.

"About what?" Elara took another sip of her whiskey.

"Relaxing's the point of shore leave. Unwinding so you're ready for your next assignment." She tried not to dwell on the likelihood Havoc would be running a member short for whatever theirs was.

The song changed, something slightly quieter, and she sighed in relief at the reprieve.

A small smile tugged Elara's lips and she swirled the remaining whiskey in her glass. "True as that is, and as good as it would be for your mental state regardless, I think you were 'wound' a bit further than the rest of us, so it follows it'll take you longer to unwind."

"But you two also have a point there," Keme said, idly watching the animated body language of Jaxo and Keran's "friends". A challenge had clearly been issued; Jorda plunked a tray of shots down on the table. "What good does worrying do? Not gonna speed up the healing process, not even gonna magically create an exception to the 'no visitors' policy." She straightened with a huff. "But it's like I can't help myself."

"Well, I'd say concern for your people when they get injured in the line of duty makes you a good CO." Elara raised her glass and slanted a mischievous look at Keme over the rim. "Though I'm under no illusions it would be quite so much a... distraction, in my case."

Keme made a strangled noise of indignation. "I- You're my friend, of course I'd worry-!"

"I know, and I'd appreciate it," Elara said with a smile. A loud whoop dragged their attention to where Jaxo was clearly winning whatever game was going on. "I also know this is different."

"No point playing dumb, huh?" Keme groaned and rubbed her temples. "It is and I don't know why."

Elara scoffed, barely audible under the music. "No? Need I remind you the ship's medbay is right next to the armory?" She arched a brow. "Or that I have functional ears and it isn't as if you two whisper?"

She should probably be a little embarrassed by the implication, but she wasn't. Keme slugged down half her drink in a go, cleared her throat at the burn. "Then you know it's just been talking." So far, she added mentally. "Maybe a little flirting, but nothing serious, nothing to justify wringing my hands over him getting hurt. 'Specially in this line of work."

Elara studied her. "Keme." She set her now-empty glass on the table. "Jorgan didn't just 'get hurt', he was seriously injured, almost died--"

"Thanks for preventing that, by the way," Keme muttered into her drink, suppressing a flinch at hearing it so bluntly.

"You're welcome. My point is, just because you two have been outwardly taking your time, exhibiting caution due to your positions, doesn't mean your heart was on the same timetable." She leaned back in her chair. "You've not done anything by half-measure since I met you, it would hardly be a surprise for this to follow the pattern. And... close calls like this can easily serve as catalyst for realizing the true depth of feelings."

"Very astute." Keme finished the last swallow of her drink and slid off the seat to stretch. "Both the advice and the noticing."

"As I said, it's not hard to pick up." Elara smiled and likewise slid out of her chair. The song changed back to something that pounded, prompting the two of them to head for the relative quiet of the street.

"Well, in that case, thanks for not reporting me for fraternization or something," Keme said dryly, taking a deep breath of comparatively cooler air.

"I don't see a need," Elara said, shrugging. "It's clearly mutual, and hasn't kept either of you from doing your jobs, quite well. So long as it doesn't interfere with operational effectiveness, I don't see it as my place to report anything you or Captain Jorgan haven't, sir."

Keme slanted a glance her way, smirked at the mischief glinting in her friend's eyes. "You playing matchmaker now, LT?"

(A small but undeniable pulse of glee burrowed through her gnawing worry at 'clearly mutual'.)

Elara tilted her head, brows arching in faux-innocence. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, major. Should I stop??"

"Depends, do you think I need the help?"

"I have every confidence in your ability to pursue a man who's interested in you," Elara deadpanned. "If that's what you're asking."

Keme snorted. "Thanks. Then I guess it's just a matter of if you wanna be complicit should we get written up for fraternization down the line."

Elara perked up. "Oh, there's a form authorizing romantic relationships."

Of course there is. And of course you knew about it off the top of your head. "Great, more paperwork. Jorgan'll be thrilled."

"I think he'd do it for you."

"I think we should wait until it's actually a relationship before we worry about that, rather'n just flirting, huh?"

"If you insist," Elara said with a shrug.

Keme wondered what the odds were that form would be downloaded and waiting to be called for, when she was ready. Probably pretty high. She looked up, watching the racing lights of traffic flight paths for a minute. "Thanks, Elara. 'M sorry Jaxo's not exactly warm and welcoming, but I'm glad you came along."

"I was an unexpected addition," Elara said mildly. "And I'm far from ignorant of my reputation among Republic personnel. Their opinion of me is their business. Staying true to myself is mine."

Keme nodded. Good outlook. "How much d'you think it would shock them if we rejoin and I said you're the one who talked me out of moping and into havin' fun?"

Elara snickered. "Oh, that might almost be worth stretching the truth."

It wasn't that much of a stretch; talking about her muddled feelings had helped her feel better. More like celebrating. But they didn't get a chance to run their experiment. Even as they turned to head back inside, Jaxo and the others emerged from the cantina.

"Another one down," Jaxo crowed, hooking an arm around Keran's neck. "An' our tab's covered 'cause I drank her Navy buddies under the table!"

Ah. So that's who they were. "Quite the achievement," Keme drawled. "Where to next?"

"Done moping, major?" Jaxo teased.

Keme shrugged. "You and Elara made some good points. Tonight should be for fun."

Jaxo was too tipsy to hide her surprise. "Yeah? Glad we, uh, got through to you. We still have two stops left, hotshot. I expect you to pull your weight for them."

"Aye, aye," Keme said with a mock salute that Jorda found hilarious from her loud bout of laughter.

"Right then." Jaxo steered the group toward a taxi stand. "On to the Sloppy Tauntaun!"

Keme gave a startled bark of laughter. "That is not its name!"

"Oh, you're in for a treat," Jaxo sniggered as they piled into a cab. "Hole in the wall cantinas are the best."

---

Keme wasn't completely sure she'd agree with Jaxo's assessment once they're had their fun at the ironically well-kept Sloppy Tauntaun--she preferred cantinas with a bit of polish--but the drinks were good and they did have fun.

Last stop was the Silent Sun because it was closest to Jaxo's place. Smart move on her part; Jorda couldn't make it more than a few steps without giggling, Keran and Elara were weaving a little, and even with her slow start, Keme was feeling the buzz of not-quite-drunk(but more-than-tipsy). Still. She could walk a straight line, so not too bad. And she knew now Elara could match Jaxo shot for shot, which was fun information and had definitely increased Jaxo's opinion of the Havoc medic.

They'd turned down the hallway to Jaxo's place, Jorda now leaning on Elara while Jaxo punched in her access code--it took two tries, Maybe she was more plastered than she showed--when Keme's datapad beeped. She glanced at it out of habit.

Medcenter alert.

The pleasant alcohol buzz was gone.

She didn't open the message but its mere arrival was a reminder of reality.

Later. I'll deal with it after we leave. It still felt like her datapad was burning a hole in her pocket. She shook it off and followed the others into Jaxo's place. There was still the harsh reality of she couldn't do anything(except pace a groove in the hall), anyway.

"Hey. "Jorda's hand settled heavy on her shoulder. "You're amazing, y'know?" She blinked like a newly-sighted loth-kitten. "J'st amazing. Savin' our butts on Quesh? The Gauntlet? Amazing," she proclaimed with all the gravitas of an emphatic drunk.

"Thank you, Jorda," Keme said with a chuckle.

Elara materialized, gently tugging on Jorda's arm. "I think it would be best for you to lie down a bit, Corporal. Jaxo said you can use her bed, come on."

"Well, this was fun," Keran drawled as Keme joined her and Jaxo. "'Specially now that you've guaranteed I'll get heckled for the next month."

"Hey," Jaxo said with a grin and shrug. "If your Navy buddies can't drink a sweet little thing like me under the table, that's their problem, not yours. You heckle them right back."

Keran laughed. "Good plan. On that note, I better get going. We ship out late tomorrow, so I should work on sleeping off the incoming hangover. See ya 'round, Jaxo, Major."

"Later, Keran," Jaxo said, turning to Keme as Keran headed out. "Glad you made it. Even if it took a while for you to get in the spirit."

"I did need the distraction," Keme allowed, trying not to dwell on the medcenter alert. "Sorry I was a bit of a drag."

"Hey." Jaxo shrugged. "While I'm of a mind we should enjoy the good times when she get 'em, you had a pretty decent reason for that being tricky." She hesitated a moment, smile tugging her lips, then, "I gotta ask, this XO of yours... wouldn't happen to be the grumpus watchin' your six when we worked together, would it?"

Keme huffed a laugh. "Yeah. He's good at it."

"'Course he is." Jaxo snickered and sobered. "Well, I wish him a speedy recovery. And maybe Havoc can wrap this war up quick for us, huh?"

"You lookin' to swap for a desk job, Sergeant?" Keme teased.

Jaxo barked a laugh. "Please. I'd go insane inside a month." Her gaze flicked to the side as Elara rejoined them. "Am I gonna need to clean any of my stuff?"

Elara shook her head. "Not so far. But I would advise making sure she stays hydrated."

Jaxo gave a mock salute. "Aye, aye." She flopped back on the couch. "I'll let you two go. Thanks for coming."

"Yeah, sure," Keme said with a wave as she and Elara made for the door. "Thanks for the invite."

"Anytime, Major," Jaxo called after them just before the door closed.

They had to keep an eye for gangsters and so didn't have time for conversation until they were in the speeder back to the Senate district.

"Glad you went?" Elara asked lightly.

"Yeah. Needed the distraction," Keme said even as she dug out her datapad and pulled up the unread message. "Unfortunately, reality is persistent and has really bad timing..." She only skimmed the first couple sentences before handing the datapad to Elara. "Medcenter alert. You're better with parsing the jargon than I am."

One corner of Elara's mouth twitched and she took the datapad, lips moving silently as she read. "It's a treatment update... they were able to repair the retinal damage with no scarring..."

Good the squad sniper's vision isn't compromised, Keme thought sardonically, something tight easing in her chest.

"...they did have to amputate, the requisition for a cybernetic leg is attached. Being in SpecForce, particularly Havoc, that should be filled by end of day tomorrow; Command will want their top unit at full strength ASAP..." she read further. "...overall prognosis is good; full recovery and return to duty within two standard weeks."

"That fast?!" Keme blurted. She wanted Jorgan back, no question, but not because the medcenter rushed him out the door.

"The miracle of kolto," Elara said, shutting down the datapad and handing it back.

"And skilled medical personnel, and you," Keme added, tucking the datapad away. The tightness in her chest and gut eased further.

Elara arched a brow. "Wouldn't I fall under 'skilled medical personnel'?"

"No, 'cause you saved his damn life in the field, without access to all the fancy equipment here, that puts you in a category all your own, Dorne," Keme retorted.

"Don't forget Forex while you're doling out praises," Elara said, glancing at the buildings whizzing by.

"Oh, never. I've already bugged Garza twice about giving him whatever's the best commendation we can wrangle for a droid." Keme smirked a little, toying with the clasps of her jacket. "Squad loyalty and cohesion are grand."

"Your leadership's helped us get there," Elara said. "You're a fine commanding officer, and if I may say so, an even better friend."

"You may, and thank you." Keme shifted in her seat as the speeder pad came into view. "You're a good friend, too, Elara. Right down to talkin' me into girls' night out when I wasn't sure about it."

"That's what friends are for, sir," Elara said as the speeder settled on the pad and they climbed out. "As well as supporting you in rough times," she added when Keme's gaze went toward the medcenter. "Heading back?"

"Just to check in. Then--unless by some miracle the 'no visitors' policy has vanished--it's back to the Starbreaker for some rest."

"Sounds like a plan."

Keme nodded absently. Her bunk on the ship would be more comfortable than a medcenter chair, at least.

And she could always resume counting hallway tiles in the morning.

#queens fic #kementari rand #elara dorne #keme/jorgan #swtor #swtor fic #keme 🤝 tel: thinking elara is the best damn medic in the galaxy #love that keme's all ''we haven't done more than talk/lil flirt idk how serious it is'' when the VERY NEXT romance conversation #is the ''i've been watching your back alright'' + first kiss one #like #keme bABE #if the bragging about sniping range wasn't enough #the Giving You Jewelry should have been #and elara's just enjoying the show like >:3

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felicitywrites · 2 years

Text

fragments | jimin x reader [special #1]

synopsis: your heart sank to your stomach as you stepped out of your room, and right there in your kitchen was the last person you ever wanted to see again. he acted as though he still lived there with you, knew each and every corner like the back of his hand and you blinked harshly trying to convince yourself you were dreaming.

impossible. this is impossible.

what was park jimin doing in your apartment, in your own loose bathrobe, pouring you a cup of coffee as he greeted you with that stupid smile on his face, when three years ago, you were certain he was out of your life forever as he left you here on your own and run into the arms of someone else? this should be a dream, you repeated.

until you figured out it actually wasn't -- because this was that day, the one before you confronted him about his affair.

unfortunately, you were about to relive the same day over and over again, and you had absolutely no idea as to why.

pairing: professor!jimin x author!reader

genre: 70% angst, 20% smut, 10% fluff

warnings: an emotional rollercoaster, infidelity, betrayal, self-destructive behaviors, unhealthy coping mechanisms, pining, toxic and abusive relationships, self-blaming, gaslighting, smut

word count: 12.8k

status: COMPLETED

song recs: milk & honey - billie marten (alt version) | the butterfly effect - before you exit | the other - lauv | who - lauv ft. bts

taglist: @mickmoon @mawwnsterr @peanutbutterjm @sweet--catastrophee @loljrau @bri-mal @christiandosworld @park-jimin-isnt-real

a/n: someone evil requested this so here you go. anyways, i'd like to point out one thing though, you need to read this without prejudice. it may not be enough to make sense of the ending but this is where maybe you get to see why things happened the way they did. hopefully.

[fic masterlist]

“Quick question, if I ask you out on a breakfast date, how would you feel?”

“Huh?” your mouth hung open, not knowing how to process the question itself - and the fact that this was the first time someone had asked you such a rhetorical question.

How was Jimin expecting you to answer?

Of course, any kind of date would make the butterflies inside your tummy go wild.

“Have you ever been on a breakfast date before?” he added, and the look on his face told you he was clearly anticipating a very specific reply, something gratifying.

You smiled, shaking your head as you twirled the pasta with your fork, eyes downcast on your plate you’d been dying to wipe clean but this man before you was too much of a distraction.

“To answer your first question, I would be happy. But… Why breakfast?”

To that, Jimin excitedly hummed, as if he’d been waiting for that moment. He straightened himself, placed his fork and knife back on his plate and looked at you. His eyes were full of life, and you needed a breather. Why were there stars in those eyes? You mentally questioned.

He grinned, resting back on his chair. “Ah, well, you see… I’m a professor, I work from 8AM to 5PM, on Thursdays and Fridays, I have evening classes so I won’t be home until 11PM. Which is why breakfast dates have become my thing. Lunch is okay, but it’s a bit uncomfortable because I’m usually under time pressure then.”

“And lunch is when you cram grading papers for your next class?” you joked, remembering a certain time in your university years when you met and liked one of your female professors who said not everyone in the field is best at planning and journaling. There are a few like her who were spontaneous, or most times, were extreme procrastinators.

You wondered which kind Jimin was.

“Excuse me, miss?” he scoffed, as if offended. “I don’t ever procrastinate. Ever. Namjoon can vouch for me..” he proudly tilted his head to the side, and you fought all odds not to swoon.

You could swear this man was going to be the end of you.

“Okay, guess I can consider that as… Me having no other choice than to go on an early breakfast date with you? That’s what this is, right?” At that point, you were dreading to run to the restroom and either take a breath or dig a grave for yourself, or both.

His shoulder relaxed, hands reaching for his fork and knife again to get back to his steak before giving you the most beautiful smile on a man you’ve ever seen.

“We’re going on a date then, at 6AM, I’ll pick you up…” he said so casually, without offering you a chance to decline. You never could, anyway.

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention solely on your food, ignoring whatever he’s still on about. Trying your best not to smell how good Park Jimin’s perfume was from your seat, you kept your gaze on your ruined plate, and his fond stares at your face went unnoticed.

He was about to mindlessly say, “You’re really pretty, do people tell you that a lot?” but caught himself before he did. It was easy, and he’s confident you wouldn’t feel uneasy since you’d been there with him for hours. You’ve had plenty of chances to leave and call it a night but you didn’t.

You were enjoying his company and it was obvious to him - just not to you.

By the time your first date ended and he drove you home, you were halfway through your skincare routine, masked up, hair-tied, watching a late night variety show when Namjoon interrupted your alone time with a call.

You winced at his goofy face on your screen before picking it up, putting him on loudspeaker.

“I know why you’re calling… It was great. Thanks, by the way.”

He laughed, and you heard shuffling, instantly recognizing the possible chaos in his office. “I told you, he’s nice. And hot, right? I’ve tried hooking him up with other colleagues but this is the first time I didn’t have to shove it into him. Just one picture of you with me and he’s nodding his head like a giddy child. He really likes you, Y/N.”

Even from the aloe vera mask on, you could feel the heat rising onto your cheeks. You had to slam the remote to switch off your TV and lay on your back on the bed, eyes at the ceiling.

You fiddled with the soft material of your pajamas and sighed, “He’s not overbearing, is he? A narcissist? A secret pathological liar? A serial killer? A hardcore–”

“Y/N,” Namjoon choked on his tea, pushing the cup back across the desk then he clutched on the armrest tightly. “He’s always been that sassy and confident. I lived in the dorms with him for years, he’s not a psychopath although he could be a little too assertive and it did annoy me sometimes.”

You nodded, shutting your eyes momentarily to picture his face again. Yeah, he seemed like the type to be confident about himself. And it’s even harder to resist how charming that made him because he’s a professor.

He’s good with words, articulate when he needs to be, smart, hardworking, funny… You stopped listing down his qualities, hearing the doorbell and a couple knocks on the front door.

“Joon? Someone’s here… Wait..”

“At this time of the night? Don’t open yet, look through the hole first. Tell me if—”

You skipped towards the hall and halted at your door, leaning over to peek into the peephole Namjoon himself requested the management for. He’s overprotective like that.

“Oh?” you gawked at the man standing behind the door, hands within his pockets. You held your chest with your hand before turning around to go full-on panic mode.

“Kim Namjoon!” you whisper-yelled, “Jimin’s here again! I mean, he went up and he’s right outside the door!” you were running into your room, tossing the device across the bed but it landed on the floor. You rushed to take off the mask and wipe your face, pulling at your tied hair so some of the strands would fall loosely on the sides.

“This will do,” you muttered, and dropped the call, leaving Namjoon speaking nonstop to himself. Inhaling deeply, you faced the door and swallowed as you unlocked it with your body stiffening.

You were greeted by the cold air of midnight, brushing past your skin through your thin cotton pajamas. Park Jimin stood a few steps away from the door, holding a small box in his hand.

It’s not a ring, is it? Impossible. He’s not that type to take things at a full speed, is he?

Your thoughts rambled in your head, eyes glued to the box while he’s staring at you with a smirk growing on his face. It took you a while to recover and when you did, Jimin was stepping closer to you, then slowly reached out to hand you the mysterious box.

He’s opening his mouth before you could even start asking questions after questions.

“I forgot to give this to you earlier. I saw it in my car and… it’s nothing much, but Joon told me you’d been finding it hard to organize your workload and–” you then cut him off, taking the box and harshly tearing it open, revealing a small digital timer in white, covered in bubble wrap.

“How much did he tell you about me? Even that part? Ridiculous…”

Anger started fueling inside you, internally cringing all the while staring at the timer that reminded you of when you started working at Kim Publishing.

“Have you heard of the Pomodoro Technique?” he suddenly asked, face gleaming with curiosity, and your stomach fluttering at the sight of his heavy breathing, telling you he ran all the way back to your apartment unit, sweat running down his jawline.

You’re on a deep-end and it was starting to feel batshit crazy.

You blinked, gulping down the chance you might drool right then and there. “Yeah, in college… Also from a few coworkers. I assume that's what this timer is for?”

He grinned, then nodded hard like a little kid. With his cheeks puffing up, added to the pink blush tinting them, you almost fell to the floor but held yourself straight and managed to take a step forward - for reasons you didn’t want to overthink not doing it when you get to bed.

“Thank you, Jimin.”

Jimin wasn’t sure if he was taken by you when he arrived at the restaurant that night, or in that moment when you were looking into his eyes with that gorgeous smile on your gorgeous face. He badly wanted to do something he’d thought of doing after some more dates with you - just to be certain you’re on the same page, but you were leaning in before he could gather his thoughts.

You’re going to kiss him on the cheek, somehow wishing it would send him a signal that he’d just passed another stage at getting you - because then you realized you liked him too. Maybe it wasn’t that bad to do it, right? You were on a date with him a few hours ago, if Namjoon told you his friend liked you, should it mean you–

An alarm suddenly went off in your head, the tune similar to your morning alarm tone of your mother singing, and as Jimin’s lips hover over yours so close you could feel his breath, you happened to hear your mother’s voice like it was your subconscious stopping you.

So you did, and you immediately backed away, hearing a teeny tiny gasp from him. Was he going to kiss you back? You harshly bit your lip and looked down, the air thickening around you and Jimin was in utter shock, both by you wanting to kiss him, and you stopping before you could.

“Sorry… I’m sorry, it’s quite late, uh… See you tomorrow? Thank you for this, I truly appreciate it…” you stammered, hands on your sides fumbling over nothing while he was at a loss for words.

If you had access to his mind, you would’ve seen the images he’d put in there about you, which he didn’t want you to know of course, at least not yet - but oh boy, his body’s taking him somewhere and it was tempting–

“Goodnight, Jimin! 6AM, right?” you burst out, and it was a squeal more than anything else. You don’t sleep with guys you’ve just met, not even kiss. It wasn’t a rule, in fact, there were times when you’ve thought about it, especially with that man standing before you.

It had just been a couple hours, Y/N! You scold yourself, whilst gripping the door tightly. You were losing and you knew you couldn’t. Either way, though, he’s letting himself release the possible stress he’d about to lose sleep over.

“Right, uh. I um.. I should go..?” he brought up an ‘OK’ using his thumb over his shoulder, awkwardly looking at you, and you felt like somehow, he deserved to hear your reason as to why you couldn’t kiss him yet. The last thing you wanted was for him to misinterpret it as something else.

“Wait, Jimin–” you held out for him as he turned around, your arm flailing in the air. He peered back and widened his eyes, and you cleared your throat. “It’s not that I don’t want to… you know,” you whispered, darting from his face down to your feet.

“Hey,” he smiled, “I get it. I understand, really… Don’t worry about it.”

“I just… I would like it if we take things slowly, I mean, if that’s okay with you?”

Uncertainty swirled inside you, and you were wondering what he was possibly thinking then. But as you scanned his expression, he spoke even before he could process his own thoughts. He spoke through the surge in his chest, the rapid beating of his heart.

“That would be nice. Let’s do it.”

He’s beaming, crescent eyes shimmering in the dimness of the hall outside your apartment unit. There’s the line you had to keep yourself from crossing, but you’re glad that you could see the willingness in him to follow your own pace.

Jimin liked you. He really did, and considering breakfast dates as your everyday thing didn’t sound so bad for you anymore, even if you had to wake up a little earlier than normal.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll be here…” he glanced at his watch, then back at you. “In 5 hours..” he grinned, shoulders raised as he slipped his hands into his pockets.

You chuckled softly then slowly shut the door when he turned back around and headed for the elevator, waving a hand at you once before entering and you waited until he’s gone.

Your breakfast date with Jimin for the first time was one for the books.

And it got better and better, the more breakfasts you spent together.

It didn’t take long for you to admit it to Namjoon, how you’ve started developing feelings for his friend. He was more than happy to help you with it, although you weren’t confident that he felt the same at that point.

That was, until Jimin came back home to his childhood home, to his parents – their persistence in pushing him to ‘pick’ any successful woman to marry, as if it was that easy… Marriage, that is.

“Remember that girl you dated in high school? What was her name? Well, we heard she’s a doctor now. Some type of surgeon? Why not find her?”

Jimin’s eyes twitched, his fingers went pale as he gripped his fork tightly. What did she just say?

“Mom,” he gritted his teeth, looked up and stopped chewing. “You’re joking, right?”

Look who he’s kidding. Jimin knew his mother wasn’t joking. She did want him to settle as soon as possible, and to be a very successful woman – like Yoojin. Yes. Like that woman who broke his heart.

His dad interrupted, wiping cloth over his mouth. “The Min’s… I think they’ve forgiven their daughter for what happened. Have you talked to her?”

“Okay, this is it. I’m done. I’m getting out of here…” Jimin slammed his hands on the table and pushed back his chair, clearly upset. Wishing their son a good marriage with an amazing wife is one thing, but wishing him to be wed to the same person who destroyed him is another.

Jimin hated hearing her name. Just remembering Min Yoojin was like a hard punch in his gut. If they knew the extent of what she had done to him and their relationship, maybe they would have understood – maybe not, because his parents only cared about what they wanted.

And what Jimin wanted? It was to meet someone who wouldn’t simply make him happy, but someone who would hold him, when things weren’t. Someone who’s a little bit stronger than him, but still vulnerable as he is. Someone who would be willing to see the end with him, not leave him hanging in the tracks… Someone permanent.

He’s in the midst of breaking down as he drives back to his apartment when you called, just right on time to offer him a hand.

“So… I made some cannolis. Ever had those? They’re amazing. Okay, are you busy tonight? Uh, I saw this old video shop down the street and wouldn’t you know, they still sell DVDs! There’s your favorite, what was that again?”

No answer.

“Jimin? Oh… Sorry, am I interrupting.. Sorry, maybe next time–”

“Five minutes. Be there in five,” he barely let out. You seemed to notice the distraught, the silent cries, the faint sniffles. “Something’s wrong? You want to talk about it?”

“I’m here…”

Colors drained out of your face, that was fast. You hurried to the door, fixed your sweats and hair before opening the door. You were right, something’s definitely wrong.

You wanted to jump in and wrap him in the warmest embrace you could ever give, but the look on his face as he stared at you was causing a roar within you. It felt like he was about to tear you down, maybe call it quits – whatever this thing was between you, or as if he was about to confess something horrible you haven’t heard in his life.

The cannolis were probably cold by then, you’d spent hours thinking if it was alright to invite him over. Ironically, words aren't your love language, perhaps it was a very long time ago… but with him, it’s…

Jimin left all his frustrations out the door, the thoughts of Yoojin, his parents who were never satisfied with him despite having achieved everything for them…

He pushed them out and stepped inside, swiftly removing his shoes and then walking towards you like the clock’s ticking faster by the second.

Your body was pulled into his firm arms before you could even blink, and it was then you realized that in that moment, you didn’t need words to tell him how you felt.

He was crying and smiling all the while smelling roses in your hair, and you were rubbing your palms behind him in comfort, chuckling at how strange her plans had turned out.

“It’s okay… Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“You… smell so good,” he blurted out of nowhere. You laughed harder, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “Just say I smell like dough, it’s okay.”

He pulled away, still holding you like you were about to run off. The seconds that came after were longer, especially for you. You were thinking a lot – of cold cannolis, of the mess in your kitchen, of whether you showered… How could you forget about that?

Jimin caught the little shifts in your expression, the way your eyebrows could tell when you’re happy or worried, or when your cheeks would change in their color depending on the level of your anger or excitement.

There’s a whole story just written all over your face, and oh, he would do anything to read through it over and over if he could.

If you would let him.

Which you did.

“Would you like to come in? Or.. are you here just for the food and the uh—the DVDs?”

“If it’s The Notebook, then yes. But I’d love to experience the pastries you made and maybe sit through any movies you picked, with you so…”

You grinned, and maybe it was a bit of a bad timing to do it – but something about the silence tugged and pulled at his heartstrings, and Jimin did what he’d thought of a million times since that first night he met you.

He kissed you.

The world around him drifted, and as he slipped his hand around your neck gently, head tilted to the side, your fears and worries dissipated into the air, into the narrow opening that closed shut as your lips met his and his other hand on your forearm.

It was the kiss that unlocked the lifetime you were going to share with him.

And maybe in seven years, you would regret that moment, wishing it didn’t happen… Maybe in the next forty years, you would smile through the tears because there were things you should’ve done first. Say, for example, give yourself more time - give him more time to open up.

Maybe you would have known the truth of why he was hurt, or who he was running from.

Maybe in three years, you would have given him a chance at saving you from your nightmares that turned into fears in the day.

Maybe.

But that moment was infinite. Like a thousand galaxies coming together, you and him were witnesses of a love that could bend and break, but also stay above all else hereafter.

Your mother fell in love with Jimin on the first day they met.

You’d never seen her that happy in so long. It almost felt like a daydream. The two of them faced each other, sharing stories of the war and the greatest movies of all time.

Jimin glanced over at you, expertly cleaning your aunt’s kitchen counter. You caught his stare, giving him half a smile before rolling your eyes at your mother whose arm was around him, clinging to him like he’s her grown-up child.

“I won’t be surprised if you’d once hoped I were a boy when I was a kid…” you joked, yet it sounded off. She shrugged it off, turning to Jimin. “Oh, did you hear that?”

He laughed along, and if you weren’t distracted by his crescent eyes and that crooked little tooth that you’re sure your mother had been obsessed with as well;

Then you wouldn’t have noticed how he’s beyond enamored by the relationship you had with your mother. He was happy seeing the two of you act childish together, lose the mother-daughter bond and become best friends who bicker over nonsense.

He silently envied you, for having a mom like that. Someone you can be completely honest with about everything, someone who treats you like the imperfect person you are – and is always open to teaching you the ways of life instead of shoving you into the world without a knowledge of anything, and then expecting you’d learn and adapt as fast.

He envied how your estranged relationship with your father, though it may have been a thorn hooked into your heart, became a reminder for you to take things as carefully as you can.

Jimin invited you to see his parents the week after that, and as expected, his parents weren’t that welcoming. Still, he admired how you handled their animosity towards you.

Or as they labeled it, ‘women like you.’

Your mother had asked you about Yoojin once when you were at the kitchen with her, you never told Jimin. You lied to her, saying you knew her even though you never did.

“She’s a college professor now, just like him…” she bragged, and you nodded, deciding not to seem interested in knowing the woman Jimin once loved in his life.

“It didn’t work out for them, I don’t know what my son did—”

“She cheated on him,” you mumbled, glad that the faucet’s running as Jimin entered the kitchen, making the tension disappear. “Mom? Dad wants you..”

You inhaled deeply when she excused herself, placing the last plate on the rack before wiping your hands on the apron his mother forced you to wear, saying Yoojin gave her that as a gift.

“Hey, what did she say?”

You swallowed, whipping your head with the smile you’ve plastered hard enough that he knew immediately it was forced.

“Nothing…”

He frowned, “Nothing?” He's quick to reach for your hand, “Pretty sure I heard that name again..”

That’s the thing. Jimin never liked saying her name. Min Yoojin. He told you about her, in bullet form, if you had to describe it. It was as if he listed down information on the woman he dated in college, memorized it and then recited them to you.

You never asked anything more.

Not even Namjoon heard anything from you.

You just know that he loved her, that it was almost like a fairytale, until she ran away into the arms of a much older man… Disappointed at how simple Jimin was becoming.

You always thought she’s a perfectionist, someone who was raised in a strict household, rich and powerful – people who believed mistakes shouldn’t have room in a person.

Maybe Yoojin didn’t like how heavy Jimin sleeps?

Or how he gives out retakes on his practical tests to offer his students a chance at passing?

Or when he’s being himself.

It didn’t matter, though. She’s not there anymore.

But you were.

Jimin didn’t care if it had only been three years. He was going to propose anyway.

He wanted a future with you. And the way you’d welcome him at home seemed obvious you wanted that too. You told him about having kids of your own, of living in a house on a farm when you grow old.

Though you never mentioned him in those little dreams of your future, a part of him knew at one point you pictured him in there too.

You wanted to be honest, he did appear on that porch sitting next to you.

Or that he cried on the day you’d given birth to your child.

Or that the ring he gave you had stopped being lonely in your finger… As he himself said it, one day he’ll add two more.

When Jimin called his parents to tell them what he wanted to do, they didn’t sound pleased, but they let him – though silently hoping it wouldn’t end the way he said it would.

Cruel. Life’s cruel.

He didn’t get to say it, not even get down on one knee because he learned the truth the hardest way possible. You’re never sure of him.

That you saw him as a reflection of your father, and that image turned your hopes into dust.

“I’m so sorry, Jimin. She’ll eventually realize how wrong she is about you… It’s our fault she’s like this…”

Or is it Jimin’s fault to believe there was a future for him, with you?

For the next two weeks, you were different.

You rarely ever spoke a word to him, and you started writing again. But you still sent him short love letters in his email, more than enough to get him through the rough day at work.

And whenever he’d come home in the evening, you’d sit on the couch with the saddest smiles he’d seen, but it'd shift into the biggest as soon as you saw him coming in.

He watched you sleep – something he used to do when he still had the energy to spare and keep his eyes open until you drift into your slumber.

Jimin watched and watched, each night, caressing you, searching the answers through the sound of your breathing. What made you feel uncertain of him?

What did he do wrong?

When did everything begin to feel… out of reach?

He couldn’t stop thinking about it since. Coming home was the best part of his day, until the thought of you leaving him would haunt him on his way back to your apartment.

The days felt longer than ever, and coming home scared him then, what if he opened the door and you’re not there anymore?

It sure felt like time was running out.

Three months later and you’re… on an invisible, thin thread.

“Hey love? Uh, did Namjoon call? We might have to stay in for another two hours. It’s the next edition. Anyways, we’ll catch up at 12?”

Pressing a thumb on the side of his forehead, Jimin swiveled in his chair, deep in thought.

He’d been thinking about a weekend with you, maybe a trip somewhere and it could be a way for both of you to bond and make up for the time when things were hectic.

Hours ago, he was on his work computer searching for places fit for a weekend getaway, imagining a perfect Sunday where you would walk down the stairs with him on your way to the beach, or you on a dress standing at a balcony looking out in the ocean, him by your side feeling content in your presence.

He believed you needed it too, even more so when he knew you’d been working triple times harder than ever, giving no time to come home and lay in bed with him while he’s still awake, and have breakfast the next morning.

The thought of asking Namjoon about your day instead would often pass him by, but he never did, not when your distance could mean so much more than what anyone would imagine, and Jimin didn’t want to pressure you on anything.

Hovering over your text on his phone screen, his finger quivered at reluctance. He could leave his paperwork and head home, maybe pick you up on his way so you could grab something to eat, but would that be alright with you?

Since when did it feel so odd to ask you how you felt?

Either way, Jimin had to try, otherwise he wouldn’t figure it out.

He texted back, “Do you want me to pick you up at 12? I’m still in the office but I can leave this work for tomorrow and drive home, should I wait for you to finish?”

Jimin felt a knot in his stomach as he sent his text, as if he could already feel the fall before it even happened. Those days were just him bracing for something devastating, it physically hurt.

Pushing his phone across his desk, he laid on his back and shut his eyes for the umpteenth time that day, seeing your face in an instant and the tight pull at his insides caught him breathless – choking almost.

He recalled the last time he felt suffocated, it was when he still lived with his parents. His mother would barge into his bedroom uninvited, listing down opportunities she wanted him to seek.

Jimin used to be a single-minded person, someone who silently craved simplicity but with a taste of perfection. Unlike his parents, he wanted great things – yet his way of getting them wasn’t sacrificial, he didn’t like too much pressure.

But he had to endure, as he felt it was the only road for him to find his escape one day. If he were to succeed like his parents wanted, then that would mean he could leave and be on his own.

Suffocating – love was like that for him, if he was to speak of his parents’ love. However, Yoojin’s love was something else. It was indescribable, more so like a whirlwind of passion and freedom.

Yoojin became his reason to leave his parents ultimately, the grip they had on his neck fell off when he told them he was going away with her.

He was free as soon as he held her hand.

Not knowing how choosing her would make everything even harder for him – staying with her would potentially get himself back to where he came from, how he was with his parents.

His phone rang and he was shaken, eyes narrowing in at the device vibrating across the wooden desk. It’s you. You were calling him, your face lit up the screen as the door to his faculty flew open.

Getting up, he grabbed his phone and answered, his head towards the doorway where someone stood by with a pile of books in both hands, panting heavily, short of breath.

His entire face drained all its color, one hand holding his phone right up by his ear while the other was on his side, seeking refuge on the hem of his pants.

“Hello? Love? Hi, uh, well.. We’re having coffee and some snacks Sooyoung bought, it’s crazy in here, you know? Namjoon is okay driving me home, you don’t need to, okay? Please come home and rest. We’ll catch up, I promise. Hmm? I’m so sorry, but you know how important this is for me. I might get that chance to pitch in my ideas and—”

“It’s okay, I understand… Let me know when you’re on your way, alright? I’ll see you at home.”

His words ran seamlessly, as though they were rehearsed. He had expected it’s possible that you wouldn’t want him to pick you up, or that there could be some other reasons why you couldn’t make it in time to talk to him.

It was the kind of fall that Jimin had learned to anticipate, to brace himself for.

“Bye, babe. I love you…” Your last three words sounded more of a question to him, but somehow, he seemed to have accepted that too. That perhaps, loving him and being with him didn’t feel the same anymore.

Maybe you did see your father a lot in him, that’s why.

Your voice resonated across the room, heard by another presence still shell-shocked at the door. Jimin didn’t say it back, and instead, he swallowed back the lump and locked his phone, slipping it into his drawer before taking a long, harbored breath.

Then there was silence.

A deafening one.

On the other line, you placed your phone back at the table, and you stared at the screen feeling rather empty. You couldn’t say why, there were no words to explain the numbness in your bones.

Sooyoung leaned over behind you, eyes on your phone where a photo of a lone house stood in the middle of a land, snowed in and cold. She shivered at the sight, at the feeling it evoked.

“Where’d you get that photo?”

You blinked as fast, recovering yourself. Looking up, you saw her sitting down beside you, reading your face. “It’s from a book. Anyway, should we go back? It’s been ten minutes.”

Sooyoung couldn’t read your mind, but she could feel the avoidance, the missing air around you for a while. Weeks ago, your wallpaper was your boyfriend. Then it was that depressing photo of a farmhouse covered in white.

Something was clearly wrong and she wished you would trust her with whatever you’re going through. What she didn’t know then was, you were beginning to feel something you’ve never felt before.

Out of place. You were feeling out of place. You never knew why, until it was too late.

The most impossible thing he once thought happened right in that moment.

Min Yoojin stood before him, looking just as he had last seen her, except that her hair’s different. She used to shine with her hair, she would spend a lot on caring for it so Jimin could still remember how annoyed she would get when chunks of it failed to cooperate.

He couldn’t process a word or two, not even a single “Hi” as something creeped at the back of his mind. What was she doing there? How did she end up in the same university as him?

He was certain Yoojin left him broken, swore she’d never appear in front of him anymore. She hated him at the very last day, for reasons she still hadn’t explained herself.

There really were no explanations, she just didn’t want someone simple in her life. Someone content like Jimin was becoming. She wanted someone who was out for perfection, and more.

Someone who wouldn’t stop at anything to achieve their dreams of success. The pressure took a toll on him, and Yoojin hated weakness on men. He was becoming weak, she needed more.

It didn’t seem like that though, as Jimin stared at her, mind filling with more questions he wished it was easy for him to ask.

“Park Jimin,” his head instantly lifted at that familiarity in that voice that laced a woman he once dedicated his whole life to. “They’re right, you work here. Wow…” she shook her head.

His eyebrows raised, wondering why there was sarcasm in her tone. “I.. I do. I work here. You–why are you here?”

She let out a chuckle, a rather dry, almost bitter one and he flinched at that. “What are the odds, well, I work here too. Since last month…”

Jimin’s brows fell and then creased, in disbelief of how he never heard of such news that she had started working there. “Hm, I didn’t know…”

Yoojin shrugged, lifting her hands that carried a pile of documents and for whatever reason, Jimin found himself skipping towards her, as if on autopilot. He took everything in his arms and she watched, a little surprised but she kept herself collected.

Mumbling a low “Thanks,” Jimin hurried to place them on top of his desk as he scanned each with curiosity. Yoojin reluctantly stepped closer, hands clasping behind her in caution over something she couldn’t explain.

“I found them in my office, uh, right in the drawers and… I thought of throwing them away but they–” Jimin turned around, facing her with one two-paged paper in hand. “They’re survey forms from last year.”

She nodded, smiling a bit. “Yes, from Kim Publishing? That’s… Namjoon’s company, isn’t it?”

He corrected her, “No, it’s still his parents but.. Yeah. They hold surveys here annually, at Liberal Arts. Mostly to figure how many are still interested in print magazines and physical books like–”

“L/N Y/N…” she’s now inches away from him, taking another set of paper from the pile and looking at it, then at Jimin. “She’s…” she stopped herself and glanced around, catching a frame sitting on a shelf. It’s one of your pictures with him, from a winter trip to Gangwon-do.

Jimin trailed her gaze, widening his eyes as he caught your face smiling back at him and Yoojin. The lump he forced to swallow minutes earlier came back, and his heart tightened at a pull it had on him.

Yoojin exhaled deeply, sitting herself on a chair in front of his desk, crossing her legs. “I’m assuming you met her through Joon? No?”

Heaving a sigh, Jimin licked his lips and returned to his chair, resting his back trying to find comfort amidst the tension in the air with Yoojin in the same room as him.

“I did,” he replied casually, looking at a distance. Yoojin was silent for a moment, searching for something in his eyes, his demeanor, there… there’s the sparkle lost somewhere in his face. The way his eyes glimmered, probably thinking of you as he answered.

There was no question if Jimin loved you, Yoojin could see it right there. She could feel it, even in between the gaps that separated his reaction to his worded reply.

If there was a problem, she knew it didn’t matter to him. He loved you. Perhaps, that was enough at that moment.

Against her better judgment though, Yoojin urged him to tell her more about you, intrigued by how much he had changed over the years. “What does she do? Is she a writer?”

Jimin sat upright, taking his glasses before pulling out a stack of papers Yoojin brought. He felt the need to distract himself while he talked. “Yes,” he said, reading onto the words from the forms before setting them aside.

“Is she good?”

“Yes, she is.”

“I see. She seems kind, too.”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

He gulped, tilting his head to meet her eyes that pierced through him. She’d moved her chair closer, head laying on her arm. Her hair fell across her face, blinding her sight a little but Jimin could see the pain rising on her skin, tears threatening their way any second.

“Three years..” he replied, “Tell me.. What are you doing here, really?” patience as thin as her willpower to keep herself composed. Three years. Jimin had found her replacement in a year.

Replacement. That was what you were to a woman like Min Yoojin. An insult, almost, to the woman who had everything she ever wanted in her life.

She wondered if you knew about her, if Jimin told you how much he worshiped her then, how everything he did – he did it for her.

Did Jimin love you the way he did with her?

Did he give you the world, and more?

Not realizing what he’s doing, Yoojin winced as she felt a grip on her shoulder, and Jimin stood beside her, glaring at her pathetically. He hated her still, she could feel that too.

Why wouldn’t he? Yoojin destroyed him. She made him feel like he wasn’t enough. She stomped on his pride, on the things he worked hard for. That’s not love, was it?

You loved him. Not once did he feel any less of a person when you were there. That woman in his office, she broke him, turned him into an empty shell of a man that he swore he would never become.

Jimin should be home waiting for you, not anywhere else.

He should be home, to you.

“You should leave, it’s late and I have to go home. Leave those files here, I’ll handle them.”

“I looked for you everywhere, Jimin. It’s how I got here.”

He scoffed, a hand on his hip as he turned away. “What a joke.. Go home, let’s pretend this conversation never happened.”

Yoojin got up, frazzled, “You thought you could just push me away, hm? No. Now that I know where you are, you will never get rid of me, you get that? Whatever it is that you’re going through with her, it’s most probably your fault. She must have seen how you–”

“I’m leaving, Yoojin, you should rest.”

Walking out wasn’t the best option for Jimin, but hurting Yoojin wasn’t either. He pushed off the words she’d thrown him, taking deep breaths on his way to the parking lot.

She could never get into his head, not anymore.

What he needed at that second as he stepped on the gas was to get home as fast as he could.

Home, to you.

The doors unlocked, the hallway to the living room was dark. Jimin blindly pressed on the lights, the yellow shade warming his presence. You walked out the elevator, seconds away from the front door shutting.

“Wait!” you yelled, catching the door before it automatically locked. Jimin peered over his shoulder, eyes darting from the bags in your hand, then to your face.

“Hey, we were calling you. Namjoon saw you exiting your car but you didn’t answer. I thought you’re already home–”

The bags fell to the ground as Jimin lifted you in his arms, in a tight embrace, one that made your heart flutter. Like it was the first time you were in such proximity. How long has it been since you hugged?

Has it been that long?

Buried in his chest, you smiled at the faint scent of his perfume. His tears ran down his cheeks, and they fell over your hair that smelled like roses – he’s home, at last.

You heard a small sniff and you’re pulling away instantly, holding his face in your warm hands. “Oh no no no why are you crying? What happened?”

He obliged as you dragged him to the couch, sat him down before running to the kitchen for a glass of water, forgetting about the bags by the doorway.

Jimin wiped his tears with a chuckle, and you returned with a frown, handing him the glass to drink. Sitting on the coffee table in front of him, you inspected his face closely.

It was then when you concluded that indeed, you haven’t spent much time with each other in a long time. His features seemed blurry in your memory, and you battled with the thought that it’s either you’ve been forgetting things a lot frequently those days, or both of you just hadn’t been around that close in a while.

It could have been either of the two, but Jimin left you no time to think as he pushed the empty glass next to you, leaning forward and pressing his wet lips onto yours.

Hands finding his chest, you remembered the four shots of soju Sooyoung offered you after work, when you were left in Namjoon’s office with them. You clearly tasted like soju and kimchi and everything else that you had that day.

Jimin didn’t care. His hands go around your neck, pulling you towards him and you begin to feel hyper-aware of how ridiculous you might have looked like. Still in your work clothes, you felt so grossed out by yourself, yet you couldn’t find it in you to object.

Kissing you fervently, Jimin’s hands traveled down on your sides, pausing at your hips before giving you a chance to breathe. You were already spent, disheveled when you caught the look on his face.

This was it.

Your eyes narrowed at the growing smirk he was purposely showing you, and you almost forgot how you were straddling him until he winced beneath you when you moved an inch to the side.

“Stop doing that,” he groaned. “What?” you asked innocently.

He stared directly in your eyes, into your soul. His hands reach back upwards again, to the side of your cheek as he narrowed the distance between you, as though they weren’t enough.

“Nothing, I… I just missed you… a lot,” his forehead touched yours. “Can’t we stay like this forever?” you sighed, threading your fingers into his hair while you whispered, “Something’s wrong, and we need to talk about it, yeah?”

Just a second ago, Jimin wanted another distraction. Something to keep him from thinking about what had been bothering him since his supposed proposal to you. He believed making love could ease the thunder roaring inside of him. The silent cries he wept, overthinking why you’d been distant.

You’re right. Something’s wrong and he needed to tell you all about it.

And you noticed his surrender, his shoulders slumping as he inhaled, fingers fixing loose strands of your hair. You reached for his hand, squeezed it gently, “When was the last time we held each other like this?” you asked.

He bit his bottom lip, “I can’t even remember…” he was being honest. He didn’t know how or why neither of you initiated a move, a sweet kiss before you’d leave for work, a hug after a long day.

Jimin was at a complete loss. All his overanalyzing led him astray, while all your overcompensating made you lose track of things – even the most important part of your life, you’ve unconsciously taken for granted.

Since your last argument with your father, you turned to isolation. You did it many times before, shutting down when issues come crashing on you.

Part of your coping caused a rift in your relationship with Jimin, and you had no idea until that moment he was looking at you like he didn’t know what to do anymore.

It’s your fault. It always was.

“It’s all my fault. I.. I did this, I should have been there for you. Have I been too… distant? That’s it, right? Since… since my father—”

“It’s okay. Nothing’s your fault, love. It’s not like I don’t miss you every day anyway, it’s just – work that’s been stressing me out.”

Lies. It was always easier to lie than having to face his fears. Jimin thought at the last second, that if he told you what was worrying him, or if he confessed to having planned on asking you to marry him, your answer would’ve been something he could never absorb.

If he asked you what made you uncertain of him, he was afraid to hear you disagree – and end up blaming yourself for feeling that way. It would hurt you, worse than how you seemed to be as you were going on and on about how guilty you were for avoiding him.

“It’s my problem. When it comes to him, I didn’t want anyone to feel the weight that I chose to carry myself long ago. Especially you, I can’t just add that to the burden you already have. With your parents, I mean. It’s not… fair.”

“Hey,” he called, following you when you stood and started pacing. “Your problem is my problem too. Didn’t we agree that we’re in this together? I told you, I want to be able to hold you when it gets too heavy, I want to be there for you. My parents, they don’t matter to me as much as yours do and I knew that since we met. It’s alright with me, I just need you to trust me… I’m here.”

That was another problem. You knew he was there. Always. But you tend to fight your battles on your own, not because you couldn’t trust him, but because you couldn’t trust yourself.

You couldn’t trust that you’re not going to ruin him because of how scared you’d been your whole life. Scared that if he held you and told you everything will be okay, you’d believe him… but something kept gnawing at you, telling you nothing will work out the way you wanted them.

Jimin’s a good man. He was so good to you that sometimes it felt too good to be true.

His presence in your life was permanent – and you figured that one out when a few months after that night, you saw him entering your floor at the office, looking dashing in his work suit.

Sooyoung was pushing your chair as she giggled, your hair was a mess, bags under your eyes.

“He looks so gorgeous, damn, the interns are asking for a beating from you..”

You shot her a glare and she laughed. “This is embarrassing, what the hell,” you muttered, standing up to meet him as Jimin walked over to your desk, nodding at Sooyoung before she dashed out to call Namjoon on his phone.

“What are you doing here? It’s 3PM???”

Jimin cracked a smile, boastful as he handed you a card. “We’re going to a party tonight. Just wanted to give this to you to rehearse.”

“Rehearse?”

He nodded, “Mm, your speech. I’ve been promoted as Broadcasting Head and… Hoseok wanted you to say a few words… for me.”

You glanced at the card, a paragraph in his handwriting. Scoffing, you read the words out loud.

“To my beloved–” he cut you off, awkwardly chuckling as he looked around, catching pairs of eyes ogling him and you. “Hey, you told me to rehearse!”

He grabbed your arms and walked off, and you screamed, “My beloved Park Jimin has been promoted! This is my proudest moment ever!!!”

Namjoon and Sooyoung halted in their steps, eyes wide open. Jimin’s face was beet red as people caught on to your screaming. He stopped when his friend appeared in his vision.

“You’ve been promoted?” Namjoon asked, and Jimin did his best to hide his blush. Sooyoung grinned beside you, “We should celebrate, right?”

You shook his hand that was still holding you, “Why don’t we go out tonight? For drinks?”

Jimin turned to you, “N-no, we can’t. The party! What about—” he side-eyed Namjoon, “Friday?”

Namjoon smiled, “Sounds great, Sooyoung?” and Sooyoung was halfway into the hall when she yelled, “Count me in!!!”

The speech Jimin prepared for you to memorize was full of passion. He sure knew how you admired him not only as your significant other, but him as a teacher as well. It was like you wrote everything yourself.

It was a beautiful Wednesday night and all eyes were on the two of you since you arrived at the venue. He picked out the dress you had on, and you thought it was pretty. You’ve exchanged greetings with his coworkers and a few student council members he was close with.

If not for the blinding lights and indistinct voices of people surrounding you, with the pounding in your chest as you walked on the podium to make the speech; you would have met Yoojin for the first time up close.

You didn’t even notice how close she was to Jimin, standing side by side with him while you stared at him when you began.

His smile was alluring, though it was scripted, Jimin was beyond ecstatic to see you up there talking about how proud you were of him. You got rid of the speech he wrote and instead improvised your own, surprising him yet all he could think about was how badly he wanted to run to you and propose right then and there – in front of everyone.

But a pull on his suit and a tap on a microphone swept him away, and you were beaming with joy, thanking everyone as you proceeded to walk off the stage while Jimin glanced to his right where Yoojin was waiting for him.

“Congratulations on becoming Broadcast Head. You’re going to kill it…” she grinned, long, soft curls cascaded her torso, she had the perfectly-fitted lace dress that hugged her figure gorgeously. If you didn’t call out his name, Jimin would have acknowledged how breathtaking Min Yoojin was that night.

“Was I alright up there?” you inquired, popping up behind him with a tug on his clothed arm. “Love?” he looked around immediately, nearly bumping into you. He breathes heavily, forcing out a chuckle that comes out rather tense. You didn’t see Yoojin walk away when you called him, but she saw you.

The entire night, Yoojin had her eyes on you and him. Like a hawk, she guarded herself in the shadows of the people, poised and proper as expected of the daughter of one of the biggest founders of Jung University. She was indeed breathtaking despite the sternness she showed, the undeniably forced smile - calculated and rehearsed.

To everyone, it was as though she was born for prominence, for immense success and pride. To Jimin, she’s beyond the name and reputation Yoojin was born with.

So, when he cheered and congratulated you for that amazing speech, expressing his own gratitude to you and your kind words; Jimin thought of excusing himself as he caught sight of his mentor, a then retired professor who’s friends with Yoojin’s parents.

Yoojin was exchanging pleasantries with the mentor, whilst side-glancing his way, as if calling him over. She knew how important Professor Kang was to Jimin. She’s a great influence to him as an educator himself, perhaps a figure he took inspiration from his lectures and practices.

He told you about Professor Kang, but to ask you to accompany him to where she was while Yoojin was there caused a strange feeling in his chest to surface.

Jimin would have to introduce you formally to Yoojin, his ex-girlfriend, and somehow that didn’t sit right with him. Which was why he diverted his attention elsewhere, to you, yet you’ve found an interest in one of his students.

In the end, he excused himself, and you nodded - too engrossed in a conversation with a couple of Communication majors on the relevance of print industry in the modern-day setting.

When he’s out of there, headed towards a corner table where Professor Kang, Yoojin, and two other board members sat down, a student of his asked you.

“Ms. L/N, how did you and Professor Park meet?”

Your eyes shimmered, “Oh, uhm, through a friend I work for. I mean.. I work with. They’re college friends and… you know..”

The student nodded, “I see. Would you mind if I ask how he is as a boyfriend? It’s okay if you don’t want to! I just want to know.”

You didn’t see any harm in that question, sure it was just out of pure curiosity amongst his students. Besides, you’ve been aware of his image around campus, added by Hoseok’s exaggerated stories on Jimin’s students forming a fanclub for him.

You answered, “Professor Park is a passionate man. He works hard, loves hard, I think in the classroom he’s the same? No? But he is thoughtful and loving. And, he talks a lot about his students like you with so much concern.”

The proud smile on your face was unwavering, and his student could only sigh in relief at how similar the professor is outside of the classroom. It made them think of him even higher than they ever had. It was the truth - he loved teaching as much as he loved you.

That’s what you had always felt about him.

“It’s saddening to hear you two did not work through your partnership. It would have been a huge deal to our community that both of you represent the institution together.”

Professor Kang had her arms crossed over her fuzzy scarf wrapped around her, and Yoojin’s face contorted into somewhat of a frown, but relieved as soon as Jimin looked at her with a smile that’s more of courtesy and respect.

If not for the thoughts of you lingering in Jimin’s mind throughout the conversation, he would’ve been bothered by the term the professor used.

She called his former relationship with Yoojin, a mere ‘partnership,’ as if the two of them were nothing but coworkers on a project together.

That’s one of the things that let Jimin down, the fact that he was casted more like a shadow of Min Yoojin - someone who supported the perfect daughter, held her hand through her endeavors while he had to silently battle his own.

He walked on eggshells around her and the teaching community, and the most upsetting was how it was worse around her family.

They created an alliance, sort of, with Jimin’s parents, yet it didn’t help him in any way in his career. All he achieved was the fruit of his hard work, maybe Yoojin did pull plenty of strings for him, but his skills were always considered second best to her and everyone in their league.

He was anticipating the similar response Yoojin had in such a statement, but that night was the first time in a long time she surprised him.

“Jimin and I may have chosen different paths but we’re both killing it in the game without a doubt. In fact, he’s been promoted as Broadcast Head. Haven’t you heard?”

“Oh, of course! Well, congratulations Jimin. I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up leading the rest in the future, perhaps alongside President Jung’s son?”

He swallowed, expecting another name to slip out as if he needed connection to survive, but Yoojin reached out for his elbow and put the professor in her place.

She didn’t know why the older woman would treat Jimin that way after everything he helped her with, and the fact that for years, she had been his influence and mentor.

A part of her once tolerated the harsh treatment everyone had for Jimin. She believed that love was enough to keep him from feeling isolated, however, that reason alone caused Yoojin to feel trapped - eventually leading into her decision to leave him altogether as she thought he wasn't going to strive for more. It was the most selfish thing she’d done, especially to him.

And she deeply regretted that over the years.

Seeing him again as someone beyond the man she had once imagined was rather fulfilling. She felt the power Jimin had all over him then, in her eyes, he became that perfect man she was obsessed with dreaming about.

She wanted him even more than she did before.

Even with your existence.

“He could be the next president without anyone’s help, Professor. I’m certain Professor Jung and his family would agree with me. He’s an important contributor in this university, and will continue to be one, regardless of what everyone says about him. So if you’ll excuse us, I just saw a few of our co-faculty members who have just arrived. It’s been so lovely to see you, Professor Kang. Enjoy the rest of the night!”

All Jimin could do was bow and let himself be dragged by her, who was beyond exhilarated. Professor Kang clenched her fists around her scarf and frustratedly downed a glass of champagne in defeat.

When the crowd settled and they were outside the suffocating ballroom, Yoojin let go of his wrist and fixed herself, standing meters away from him on one side of the large, empty hallway.

Jimin watched her adjust her dress, pushed her hair behind, and the moment reminded him of his university years, when he was still in the beginning of his relationship with her.

He couldn’t explain why, but there was a split second where he recalled the ring deep in his pocket, the ring he was going to propose to you with - and imagined Yoojin wearing it.

That thought would truly haunt him for decades to count, but the minute Yoojin finally gazed up at him with that familiar smile he was more used to than the practiced one; the world around him froze.

The doors swung open, voices echoed through the walls and the movement was quick to comprehend. Yoojin hurried and grabbed him yet again, pulling him towards the nearest hiding spot she could find.

A dark, waiting lounge filled with displays of Renaissance art and decoration. The only light source were a few electric candle lamps in each corner of the room.

Catching her breath as she cautiously peeked into the space in between the doors, Jimin choked on his words he was thinking of saying.

He wanted to thank her for what she did, and maybe apologize for how he treated her on that night she came into his office. No words dared to spill.

Jimin didn’t even realize their hands were still together and Yoojin seemed to not have any plan on letting go. She’s facing her, quietly breathing as her head’s lifted up at him. Not able to see her face clearly, he blinked repeatedly to adjust to the dark.

Yoojin wanted him - there were a million ways she could show him that, and she would, if given an ounce of opportunity to chase.

And there it was, that little chance. So little, none of them could barely feel it.

But then, a phone started ringing.

Jimin was the first to step back, whole body spinning around to run a hand through his hair. What just happened? What was wrong with him?

Yoojin’s chest ached when he pulled away, her reality hitting hard all at once. She felt hot tears above her cheek, and it didn’t take long for them to stream down when Jimin slipped his hand inside his pocket and took his phone, its ringing sounded like roaring thunder within her body.

His phone screen lit, showing you snuggled into the crook of Jimin’s neck.

For another second, he looked at her, as though asking permission - she hung her head low and stayed silent. He swiped his thumb and brought the device to his ear.

Your voice drowned out the sobs Yoojin let out, too loud and too distracting for Jimin to ignore. He was drawn back to you - as he should, and it hurt more than anything else.

That little hope disappeared into the night as Jimin apologetically bid his goodbye of a nod before exiting the room, choosing to forget about whatever he felt in that space with Yoojin;

Choosing to push it under the rug like he would always do from then forward.

If not for the news you told him when he returned to your table, you would have smelled the perfume - the unmistakable scent of a woman’s perfume that’s not hers, but you didn’t.

You informed him you two had to leave as your mother was sent to the emergency room for a stomach pain, and you were in tears as Jimin held you on your way to the car.

Watching you weep for your mother even with the good news that it was caused by a mild food poisoning and nothing more, Jimin felt the guilt washing over him.

He never spoke to anyone about Yoojin and that night - especially to you.

That was easier than the truth anyway.

Two years passed by in a whiff, and everything was smooth-sailing - you were happier, healthier. Your mother moved near your aunt’s place and started helping her out with her small business, and you’d been promoted once, while Jimin remained the head of his department.

You worked extremely hard to match up your work schedules with his, wanting to solely dedicate your weekends with him.

Short travels around the country and there were several round trips Jimin booked himself for you. He’d been encouraging you to go back to writing, since you’ve paused to focus on your job as Namjoon’s secretary and your weekly concept-building with your team.

You appreciated the effort he was pouring out of him just to make you write again, and you really did try - though you ended up on a journal instead, opting to document your daily life with him.

Everything was aligned - seamlessly almost, until the conversation of marriage was brought up during a family dinner with his parents.

The way your face morphed an indescribable expression which Jimin’s mother interpreted as utter refusal on your end, felt like a strike onto Jimin… harder than the first time you unconsciously rejected the idea of marrying him.

He still defended you though, making up an excuse that you’ve been talking about it with him but it may take a while for a decision to come because of work.

Jimin’s father spoke of his grandchildren he wanted enthusiastically, and your stomach twisted at that. He was looking directly into your eyes as he said it, how he wished he would still be alive by the time you gave birth to them.

He wanted two grandsons, if possible. You took note of that, seeing how Jimin seemed delighted as much as him. You’re not as hesitant with having children as you were with marriage, yet you haven’t honestly discussed it with Jimin.

You never opened the topic, nor did he, so you figured he wasn’t that interested then. You were wrong, but you never knew - not until it was too late.

He went home with you, depleted as ever, his limbs felt ripped inside and out. You didn’t look so concerned - conscious of his dilemma.

That night he was going to propose but failed resurfaced as he kissed you good night. He waited until you were far off to sleep, before he sneaked out and drove to the campus, hoping to find peace within the quiet halls of his department building.

Five years into his relationship with you - and he still didn’t feel enough. Not even deserving for you. He still loved you anyway. Even when he saw a lone figure standing by his office door, facing him, he thought of you all the time.

“Oh, I was just about to see if you’re… Wait, hey… Are you okay?”

He cried on his drive there, messed his hair and smacked his fists onto the wheel - and Yoojin could see the agony in him the second he was close to her.

She took his hands, they’re cold, shivering like the midnight. Without another word, she unlocked the office door for him, using his keys that he had in his other hand. She walked in, pulling him as she moved like she memorized the room.

Sitting him down on the small couch, Yoojin looked for a bottle of water. Jimin always had a few everywhere he went, and she was right. She found one in his bookshelf, and she rushed in twisting it open before handing it to him.

“Drink,” she mumbled, and he did so, eyes far away - out of her reach but she didn’t mind. “Did you forget something here? Were you… cramming the tests?”

He gulped down the rest of the water and crumpled the plastic bottle, tossing it into the trash can. Laying his back against the couch, Jimin brought his arm over his eyes and covered them.

“No. Why are you still here anyway?”

“Good question. I’m checking essays.. Hundreds of them. Wanna see?”

He scoffed, still with his eyes closed. “No thanks. Well, you should go back now. I need some time alone.” she raised her brows, “Why? I can stay here..”

Sitting up straight, Jimin pushed his arm out of his eyes and opened them, immediately catching her round eyes staring back at him. “I need to think…”

That’s the thing, it felt almost surreal - natural for Jimin to be honest with her. Whatever he was thinking at the moment, he would say it, no matter how harsh or real it may be. With Yoojin, his deepest, darkest secrets, the hidden corners of his mind were like an open book.

A part of him would dismiss it as something of a mistake. Yet there’s a bigger part that agreed. Yoojin saw the younger version of him - that little boy who dreamed big, so big he suffered reaching for it. She witnessed him grow, watched the world go smaller and smaller with him.

She may not have seen it then, since she left him to be with someone else, but Jimin held onto that for a long while. Perhaps, until that moment, he still remembered.

Outside the walls of the classrooms they’ve practically lived in since college, their perfect little world was not as pretty - but they made it as one somehow.

Maybe Yoojin forgot about that, he thought.

He felt for her nonetheless. Because he believed she saw him, the ugliest parts of him.

In the next four hours, you didn’t belong anywhere inside Jimin’s mind. You were tucked away in the crevices of his heart, asleep - lost in the daunting midnight.

The dawn was when Jimin came home. It happened once, then twice a week. And then you were assigned to lead a feature story on a recording artist and producer, you had to travel back and forth to two different locations every single day for two months.

It was easier to shove the dust underneath the rug, and Jimin would do just that each time he was faced with his troubles with you.

You never spoke about the dinner, or the talk of children that he knew you would prefer than a marriage that could end up in flames like your parents had.

He was disappointed, but it’s his fault too. He should have been the one to reach out and discuss it with you. Jimin knew that, yet he never had the guts to do it.

A coward and a cheat. He would hide in the safest possible space he could find, in Yoojin’s inviting presence that reminded him he mattered.

They would spend hours in either his office or hers, just sitting down and laughing over nonsense. Drinks were bought, food was made in advance - Yoojin did most of the work, like a guardian angel ready to save him from another despair.

It became a norm - a routine, a habit Jimin could never break. Not even when you finally came home after two months, excitedly jumping and telling him about getting promoted yet again.

You told him about the praises, the endless compliments you received - the potential deal off of an international publishing house happening because of you.

You never saw the indifference in him, or the scent of another woman’s perfume in his suit. If you did, he would have confessed - that it was Yoojin, but he would be honest.

Nothing more than a shared laughter and infinite conversation happened, at least not yet.

Jimin somehow wished you would figure it out, maybe that way he could find the strength to tell you everything. To admit how lost he’d been - how your crippling fear of a failed marriage consumed the life out of him.

What he didn’t know was that you never even knew that yourself. It might have slipped out that you’re not sure of him before - but it never meant that you didn’t consider settling down with him.

You just needed a push, a reminder, a tug on your sleeve - like the tug on his sleeve Yoojin kept giving him once he’s at the door, ready to come home to you.

“I know you don’t want to talk about this but, why are you still with her despite all this?”

Back then, Jimin had a definite answer. He loved you. But that felt more of a lie than ever.

He shrugged her off, ignoring the pain in the pit of his stomach. He’d still come home to you - until Yoojin took a bigger risk that Jimin was too weak of a person to ignore.

“I ran into her at a bookstore the other day.. I think she knows who I am,” she told him. It shifted the gears inside his head, putting on his best suit for impact. He needed another escape, another way for you not to catch him.

From running away to leave his problems for a fun, interesting night with his ex-lover, to running away from you. He knew you would hate him. You would laugh and tell him you were right.

That he was the image of your father.

He’s not - at least that’s what he wanted to believe in.

Yoojin convinced him to drive her home, made him think you probably had started to suspect, when all you did was work and try to write. You never had a clue.

What started out as a fun conversation filled with childhood banter and genuine laughter, turned into a reckless escapade of lies, deceit, betrayal.

The sleek movement, of stolen glances and playful stares - caught on by someone who always stood on the sidelines, admiring the likable professor, charismatic and effortlessly beautiful;

There watching the affair gets fueled by the risk of breaking rules and bending morals, was Hyejin. She liked her mentor - from the day he called her name in class, praising her paper.

She knew about the girlfriend for six years at that point, even greeted her at a function where the professor brought her with him.

Hyejin thought you were as strict and unnerving as Professor Min, but you were far from that. You were beyond what her mentor, the enigmatic department head Park Jimin deserved.

She couldn’t believe how you were able to put up with that man.

But that’s a poison Jimin began to carry around him since he began his illicit affair with Yoojin.

He learned how to deceive everyone around him, worse, including you.

Living a double life was easier than having to keep searching for reasons why you wouldn’t want to marry him, or have children with him.

If only Hyejin wasn’t the stubborn kind that she was, she would have told you everything. She would have shown you how evil that man had turned into.

Yet up until the seventh year of your relationship with Jimin, no one had come to share the truth with you - despite the signs being there all along.

You had to find out on your own, without anyone to hold onto - in the worst, possible way.

It was a countdown to the end - clock’s ticking, and it was loud inside your head. You walked up the stairs to his office, greeted by the warm smiles of students and fellow professors. It was a normal weekday, and you were surprising him with a gift.

You held your head high, but not enough for you to stand out - maybe because the majority of the people you came across thought your relationship with Jimin was over.

The last step before reaching his floor, you bumped into someone. Taller than you, pale-skinned, slightly muscular build, in formal, corporate suit. You apologized, and he did too, crouching down to your level as he took the bag from the ground with Jimin’s gift inside.

A silver necklace with a crescent moon pendant.

You looked up but the man was already staring at you.

“Oh.. I, I’m sorry again.. I didn’t see you…” you stammered, bowing your head at the stranger whose face changed into different expressions so fast in three seconds. “Y/N, right?”

“Yes, wait.. Do I know you? Sorry, I mean, I’m not really good at faces..”

“Min Yoongi,” he extended a handshake, you reluctantly accepted, confusion all over your face. He sighed, “You’re here for… Professor.. Park?”

You slowly nodded, “Oh, how did you–”

“I’m a psychiatrist, speaking of which, you should go home. It would be better for you…”

“Excuse me?”

“Believe me, in the end you’ll thank me for it. Giving my sister that satisfaction wouldn’t change anything. Go home and think about your life, yourself, your relationship. One day you will remember this moment and realize this isn’t for you.”

This was never for you. He was never for you. Because you were… you were always meant for you - and you only.

You listened and went home, watched as time turned and turned, reaching its breaking point.

A month later, you picked yourself up and let him go. Let yourself go despite knowing how difficult it would be to fall out of love with someone like Park Jimin.

You’ll have reasons to keep the love flowing out of you for him, a beautiful child who’s the image of you in every sense. But more so, you’ll have reasons to keep the love coming for you and the life you’ve chosen.

Something about time made Jimin feel frozen in place, while you were hours away, speeding like a bullet train ahead. You’re meant to learn things the hard way, but he was meant to learn much harder.

Something about time told you an hour in the future before you passed, that even then if you were given the chance to go back and experience a time in your life;

You wouldn’t have wanted to, at least not anymore - when the course of your life happened because you maneuvered it the best you could.

You lived through the fleeting, little moments of your existence, with the love not even time can measure. It’s endless, infinite - and only yours.

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