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#they didn't even have it in their system yet lol
malaierba · 5 months
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Thinking about Karamatsu/Nozomi whole looking through some web weavings, and if I ever write something for them (currently in the phase of trying to come up with key events and organise them chronologically so it makes sense, thematically) I think I'd like this to be one of the take aways
In the event of a bad ending (dunno if I'm strong enough for that though 🫠 SHE CAN CHANGE HIM WITHOUT DYING im better than that), I hope that Karamatsu still finds it in himself to stop being so passive about his life. Like,
To stop waiting for the perfect moment or the perfect answer to dawn on him, and instead take life by reins and... Just start being an active participant in his own life. To embrace self-determination and the risk of committing to something that may not pan out but still forces you to take conscious and mindful action every day.
#nozomi takahashi#karamatsu#karanozo#thinking about what the sextuplets (say they) want out of life vs. what they do to achieve it vs. whats holding them back#you have cybermatsu who are the most driven/ambitious but where one is held back by anxiety/the delusion that thinking about being responsi#is the same as actually being responsible (i mean. i get it lol) the other one is held back by trying to cheat the system bcs he thinks he'#too smart for hardwork + the apprehension that if he earns something it may be disrupted by his family dynamic which is HEARTBREAKING#then parka who dont show much ambition and i think they embrace the mindset of not wanting more than they currently have#whilst ignoring the discomfort this creates. and i like to think Osomatsu is stressed by the knowledge that as the eldest he SHOULD be#striving for more no matter how much change scares him (sick dad skit + nyachan skit) whils Ichimatsu just has such a low image of himself#he probably thinks back to how hard he had to try I'm HS and gets discourage yet also ignores the successes he's had#(hc but i like to think everyone thought he and choro would be the most well adapted and traditionally functional members of society but it#didn't pan out. in Choro's case because he wasn't as good as he thought he was and in Ichimatsu's because realising that he'd have to mask#forever kept him from trying)#and then. kinniku. and I'm thinking how they're the two with the most obvious passions (the arts + sports) and how they're visibly#skilled (Kara) and talented (Jyushi) and Karamatsu even mentions in S1 that he tried to become an actor but gave up and Jyushi says he's#never actually played an official baseball match prior to the S1 finale and I go insane thinking that they also tried in their own way to#pursue less traditional passions but they were always held back until they allowed the passions to become an scape and a distraction#idk why i wrote all of this it's not actually that related to the post. like i would try to explore that hc in a fic but???#something possessed me lol. but it's written so y'all take it. ANYWAYS#rambles
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ssaalexblake · 9 months
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like due to the new photo editor i am Definitely quitting making episode gifsets like that will make it impossible :/ 
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lattenha · 7 months
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TERRIBLE TWOS — PARK SUNGHOON
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SYNOPSIS! A rash decision on your end causes you and Sunghoon to break up. What you think is for the best turns out to be the complete opposite, actually. Cue two years later when a random encounter with your ex forces you to revisit past feelings that has never quite fully departed from either of you. PAIRING! Chairman!Sunghoon x Fem!Reader WC! 11.4k (Got carried away)
GENRE/CW! Exes getting back together, fluff, slight angst if you squint, smut (fingering, brief mentions of fem oral receiving, sunghoon has a 7 inch cock; i headcanon that, unprotected sex, missionary, creampie, lots of tongue kissing), swearing, reader is in denial just a tad bit, ft. non-idol!yunjin, reader is a struggling fine arts major, etc. MDNI
A/N: originally, i intended for this to be a simple one shot but it somehow turned out to be greater than that in the end lol. this was also my first attempt at writing smut; i've always wanted to try it but damn is it kinda hard. i feel like the title doesn't match or capture the story as good but whatever-- it used to be called 'seasons,' yet that didn't make sense either so... terrible twos it is! i hope you enjoy <3
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“Y/n?” 
A trace of uncertainty laces the man's voice, his mind racing with the possibility that he might have mistaken a stranger for someone from his past. Internally, he winces at the prospect of this awkward mix-up, dreading such an encounter with a random person. He clings to the hope that his intuition proves accurate.
Could it really be her? Amid the bustling crowd, she always managed to stand out, an unmistakable aura surrounding her. Her presence eclipsed even the most vibrant of settings, radiating a unique energy that outshone a field of flowers.
When he tentatively calls out her name in a hushed tone, she spins around on her heel, and for an ephemeral moment, Sunghoon feels as though he's stepped into a scene from a classic romance film.
Time stills and so does he. 
Each of your movements steals his breath away. The way your hair dances in harmony with the wind, and how your eyelashes cast the most delicate shadow upon your high cheekbones. Your gradual unveiling leaves him struggling to swallow past an inexplicable lump in his throat. 
Sunghoon notices the moment your eyes widen. Behind those enchanting orbs, he discerns a flicker of nostalgia and a touch of melancholy. During your time together, he had the uncanny ability to read those emotions hidden within the depths of your eyes.
“Sunghoon…” You say no louder than a mere whisper that could easily get lost in the summer’s wind that passes through the both of you. 
Your heart throbs in your chest. The biological response is far too overwhelming that you can feel your stomach tying itself in double knots. You think you might need to be pointed to the nearest bathroom so you can barf up the swarm of butterflies that disturb your system. No doubt, does crossing paths with an ex whom you share a long history with manage to do that to you. 
“H-how are you?” You’re the first to strike up a conversation despite that being Sunghoon’s unspoken responsibility. 
How am I? Sunghoon has to brace himself to collect his messy thoughts. 
“I’m pretty good, and yourself?”
His response is curt and short. In any other setting, he would have elaborated on his answer but he wasn’t sure how much information was too much to reveal to an ex regarding the state of his well-being. You nod at his words, not really expecting much nor having high hopes that he would give you more to work with in this conversation of playing catch-up between an ex. 
See, your relationship ended amicably, with both of you acknowledging that the spark kindled between you two had faded out. With your mind elsewhere, too focused on your academics (so you like to say), and Sunghoon preparing to inherit his family’s business, there was little room for romance in either of your daily routines. Your typical weekend dates were swapped out for meetings with major corporations and other soon-to-be-chairman-related activities so that he could fully understand what the rest of his future held for him. 
Even though you missed having your boyfriend's undivided attention, you refused to act as a temporary roadblock that prevented him from making significant progress. Despite your heart and brain being at war with each other, you made the conscious decision to slowly back down from being his lover and tucked your face in the pages of your academic textbooks.
With Sunghoon too busy to even acknowledge that his girlfriend was distancing herself from him, you were the first to come forward, bearing the news that breaking up would be the optimal solution to your and his fading presence in one another’s lives. 
That night when you bid goodbye, he felt half his heart shatter inside of him. Little did you know that you carried the other part wherever you went, but now that you were no longer capable of sheltering that missing piece, it almost made him want to die inside more than just a tad bit— a lot, actually.
He pretended to play it cool as your back turned to him and he watched you retreat to your car, feeling both helpless and defeated. With an unflinching countenance, a tightly clenched jaw, and fingers gripped at his sides, Sunghoon longed for his feet to have chased after you, preventing your departure from his life. He yearned to undo whatever had driven you away, to rewrite his mistakes and reshape your shared history.
Sadly, not even the first star in the sky he saw at night could grant him something as demanding as that.
On the contrary, had those things happened, he wouldn’t be here today on a Thursday afternoon rekindling a connection that got tossed up in the air and fell through his fingertips.
“I—“ Before you get a chance to deliver your sentence Sunghoon’s hold on your arm prompts him to draw you to his chest. 
Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, eyes simultaneously widening for the second time thanks to a certain ex. You look up at the taller one with crinkled brows. A mixture of confusion and a looming feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach that hasn’t quite left, tugging at your heartstrings. His intoxicating scent of Dior Sauvage is all too overwhelming for your nose to take in. You swear your head could start spinning any minute now. 
He’s so close to you. You’re so close to him. If someone were to come by and accidentally bump into you, you would be pressed up against his chest, breaking what limited distance is keeping you two apart. 
A bike rider disrupting pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk whizzes by, obnoxiously ringing the bell attached to their handlebar as if they aren’t to be blamed for riding on the concrete pavement, and it’s only then do you realize that Sunghoon was protecting you from getting hit. His body relaxes once he declares that it’s safe for you to comfortably stand in the open from any oncoming obstructions. 
“Sorry… acted on impulse.” His grasp on you immediately retreats to the inside of his pant pockets and you swear that his touch leaves a ghosting sensation on your skin. 
Sunghoon refuses to meet your lingering gaze, eyes averting to some random couple walking their dog across the street from where the two of you are standing. It’s almost funny how he fully believed two years ago that one day both of you would be exactly like that: dog owners who take their beloved fur baby on walks together and enjoy the simplicity of the little things that a relationship has to offer. 
“It’s okay, thank you,” You murmur, unsure of where things should go from here. 
A beat of silence comes and goes before Sunghoon has the chance to take the initiative to prove he’s different from his past self. 
The past self you witnessed throughout the duration of your shared romanticism. The past self who failed to convince you to stay because he never wanted you to leave his side. What he wanted was to work things out and to understand what he could do to change and make things better for the two of you.
Even if that meant you breaking up with him first to realize this.
“Listen, why don’t we…” He suddenly starts. Sunghoon analyzes your face and when your features evidently show that you’re all ears for what he has to say, he takes a deep breath to compose himself. “Get dinner. Together.“ 
Although the question comes out more like a demand rather than a request, you’re slightly taken aback because you were almost certain Sunghoon probably resents you for the breakup— at least that’s what you tell yourself— and that he doesn’t want any business involving you entering his life for a repeat performance. The only different thing is that you’re his ex.
Can you blame him? It was so sudden.
The concealed hurt he tried to mask but failed to do so when you told him you wanted to end things, hoping it’d be left on good terms, rambling about how much you do and will continue to care for him no matter what he does in life or who he chooses to love after you. It seems you did more talking than he got the chance to, and Sunghoon wasn’t sure if you had this all planned leading up to that moment, or if he should’ve seen it coming. 
Whatever it was, Sunghoon could never hate or repent you, but you’re no telepathic mind-reader and wouldn’t know how he feels about you now unless you asked. 
Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you ponder the idea of sitting in a fancy restaurant with Sunghoon and sharing a long conversation over an expensive meal that is highly overpriced for its ridiculously small portions. 
“On one condition,” You quip. Sunghoon gestures for you to keep going and you clear your throat. “No five-star Michelin places, okay? I just want a simple dinner to make up for lost time.” 
The older male chuckles, nodding his head sensibly. If there’s one thing Sunghoon learned about you is that you were never hard to please and preferred the opposite of a high-end luxury lifestyle that he naturally grew up with. 
“Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 8, how’s that sound?” 
“That’s perfect but um—“ you purse your lips. “Do you… Do you still remember where I live?” 
“Of course. It would take a lot more than time and distance apart from each other, for me to forget your every being.”
Sunghoon leans in to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The underlying intimacy hiding beneath his actions has you contemplating what the course of your relationship would have looked like for the two of you, had you not broken up with a man as sweet and thoughtful as him.
Was calling it quits between you two a mistake? Should you have stuck it out just a little longer? 
You can only shove those thoughts to the farthest point in the back of your mind and recenter your focus to the handsome ravenette. 
Sunghoon, sporting a warm grin that gradually grows into a pearly white showcase of his perfect teeth and adorable canines, makes it worth marveling if second chances are a thing that people still stand by. 
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The next evening, Sunghoon unexpectedly arrived at your front door 20 minutes ahead of your readiness. While you were trying to situate yourself into your cami dress that paired well with the current season, a knocking sound coming from the entrance to your studio unit startled you in its wake. You tapped on the screen of your phone to check the time and crinkled your nose when the numbers staring back at you read 7:40. 
Sunghoon’s habit of arriving for an occasion earlier than expected was not unusual for his character. The taller's mannerisms crept into other facets of his social life after years of being trained to believe that "early is on time" and "on time is late." However, 20 minutes ahead of schedule was definitely new to you, and part of you can’t help but think if this is stemming from anxiety or if that’s just you projecting your nerves onto his much early arrival. 
“Just a sec!” You struggled to reach for the zipper to your dress, stress-sweating due to the pressure of having to rush through the rest of your routine.
After what felt like a millennia you finally managed to seal yourself shut into your attire and scurried to the front door where poor Sunghoon was waiting for you to answer.
“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t get to the zipper of my dress and I don’t think me flashing you or my neighbors in semi-public is socially acceptable.” You awkwardly laugh, strands of hair sticking to the back of your neck and forehead from the accumulated sweat you managed to produce. 
Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head at your guilty tendency to overshare too much information for the dramatics.
“No worries. I know I showed up earlier than expected. Don’t worry about me, do what you need to do.” He smiles softly and for a second it almost slips your mind that you’re no longer romantically involved with each other. 
Oh, how you wish you could leap at him and smother the dashing man with kisses all over his Greek god-like, beautiful face…
“Here,” The taller unveils a bouquet of flowers that he attempted (underline, attempted) to hide behind his back. In reality, you could already see bits of it peeking out but chose to play coy about the item he was holding back from giving you. 
You fawn at the striking arrangement of tulips that come in different shades of the prettiest of pinks. Tulips. Of course, he would remember that those are your favorite. His words from yesterday ring in your ears, and believing them, you truly start to confide that Sunghoon could never boot you out of his memory as easy as a snap of his fingers.
“The prettiest bunch of flowers for the prettiest girl.” Sunghoon cautiously says, unsure if that would be stepping a line. To be fair, there isn’t an official handbook on what you should or shouldn’t say to an ex— except for some of the more common phrases; whatever that may be.
You let out a lighthearted laugh at the bold, yet cheesy, compliment and invited Sunghoon into the safe haven of your apartment, ignoring the way your heart practically skipped a beat when he said that. 
He’s been here on plentiful occasions so he’s really no stranger to the arrangement of your flat and could probably draw out an entire floor plan if he wanted to. At one point he almost committed to the thought of moving in with you, but you were a firm believer that it would be best if he stuck to the minimalist mansion he decorated himself; it was passed down to him from none other than his father. Needless to say, Sunghoon was a pouty puppy that day.
“I’m almost ready I promise.” You say. “I just need to add some finishing touches and then I’m all yours for the night.” Immediately your hands fly to your mouth when realization dawns on you about the delivery of your words. 
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, and luckily, you miss the faint smirk that tugs at the corner of his plump lips teasingly.
“You know what I mean!” You panic, waving off the metaphorical atmosphere that surrounds both of you.
You excuse yourself and escape to your room as the tips of your ears start to flush with embarrassment.
Once the door leading to your bedroom shuts behind you with a mellow thud, your back presses up against the surface of the entryway. A loud sigh that you weren't even aware you were repressing since Sunghoon arrived breaks out past your tinted lips. With your mind a foggy mess and your heart threatening to leap right out of your chest, you’re under the impression that you resemble the stereotypical anime school girl the way your entire demeanor changes when you’re around him. 
But that’s the thing.
It’s only Sunghoon. 
It’s just Sunghoon.
So what if you guys dated in high school and partially during college? So what if he was the first and only guy you’ve been with, and even though you have no one to compare him to, he would still be the best ex you could ever have? So what if you regret breaking up with him because you got ahead of yourself and refused to be transparent with him? 
So what if you want him back…
You pat both sides of your cheeks to wake yourself from a philosophical dilemma. you refuse to go down a rabbit hole of emotions especially when you’re about to go out to dinner. 
You shuffle through your wardrobe in search of a certain pair of Converse that a special someone gave to you as a birthday gift. When you find it neatly stored away in its original packaging and the box that it came in you’re almost too eager to slip your feet into the collar of the Chuck Taylor’s.
You halt in your steps when you reach your vanity and grab your everyday bottle of perfume, spritzing one pump, then two, then three, and four more of the floral scent, that you’re showering yourself in it at this point.
When you've deemed that you’re completely ready and satisfied with your appearance for the evening, you exit the inviting comfort of your cozy chambers. Sunghoon’s back is facing you as you ascend into the living room. You can’t make out much of what he’s doing and he’s seemingly too preoccupied to notice your footsteps stalk across the wooden paneling. His neck is craned downward looking at something on the decorative table where you have a neat arrangement of framed pictures. 
“You still have this?” He turns around revealing the photograph that he was referring to, now in his possession. There’s a distant glimmer of emotion that you can’t quite make out peeking around the curves of his irises. 
You let out a resigned sigh. 
You’ve been caught red-handed for leaving a single trace of the past out in the open. 
Of all the furniture and miscellaneous objects that collect dust on different surfaces in your flat, Sunghoon chose to go for the photograph of you and him standing under a cherry blossom tree in Ilsan Park. Your arm was hooked around his waist and his was wrapped around your shoulder. The brightest of smiles stretched across your faces as petals danced around you. It was the perfect moment captured in stillness and you wish you could leap through pictures to relive that special day. A distant memory that feels like it happened not too long ago.
“I couldn’t get rid of it. It’s— That’s one of my favorite pictures of us.” You simply explain. 
It was true, because out of all of the selfies, candid photos, and other pictures you shared together with Sunghoon, your date to Ilsan Park remained your number one core memory as a couple. 
You watch intently as Sunghoon places the photo back where it originally belonged on the console.
“I think that’s one of my favorites, too.” He says as a matter of fact. “That or the one where we went to Lotte World and wore matching uniforms together.” The taller laughs.
You giggled, the recollection of your amusement park date flashing across your mind. You dragged him to go on each and every attraction with you as he stumbled in your tracks, struggling to keep up with your social battery. You felt like two high schoolers in love at the ripe age of 20 because being with Sunghoon gave you the impression that you were your 15-year-old self again. 
“I like that one as well! I thought I looked pretty cute in that uniform.” You grin sheepishly.
Sunghoon chuckles and it causes you to whip your head to survey him. His eyes crinkle before they’re no longer crescent and back to their original doe-eyed shape. 
“You’re still cute, y’know that?” 
The comment sends your heart ablaze along with the blood that rushes to the surface of your cheeks. You can only hope that the thin layer of makeup and blush you applied is strong enough to camouflage the effect that sunghoon has on you. It’s no secret that he was always a smooth talker and still is. It makes you wonder if he’s ever used that flirtatious skill on other women he’s come across after you— or if he has. 
You tut your tongue at him and reach for your crossbody purse draped on the couch that you lazily tossed aside yesterday after coming home. 
“Ready, m’lady?” Sunghoon twists the knob and pushes the front door open, supporting the weight with his broad frame to keep it from closing in on you two when you exit. 
“Wait!” You pip, halting in your steps. You briskly retreat to your room and grab the bouquet of tulips you left on the side table next to your bed. 
You scurry over to Sunghoon, cradling the arrangement of florals like it was your baby. The haired boy opens his mouth to say something but you’re too fast to retort, 
“I wanna show it off. They’re too pretty to be left at home.” 
He nods and motions his hand for you to leave the unit first. The taller gives himself a mental pat on the back for inquiring in a floral shop before coming to retrieve you for dinner.
Tulips are a girl’s best friend, after all. For you, at least.
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Coincidentally dinner happens to occur at the one restaurant you frequently visited when you and Sunghoon were dating. It was a simple ma and pa spot only locals in the area knew of. They were popularly known for their cold noodles and ginseng chicken soup. You like to think of it as a secret only two of you know about and continue to gatekeep it from your friends or families from ever coming across of it. 
The owners grew familiar with both of you through your frequent visits and friendly conversations. your rapport with them resulted in a warm welcome every time you returned, often accompanied by a generous discount as a token of their appreciation. Since your last visit to their restaurant, a while has gone by, and you both have been overdue to make an appearance at the restaurant.
“Aigoo, Sunghoon-ah, it’s been so long!” Mrs. Kim exclaims, wearing the biggest and brightest smile that brings out the crinkles in her complexion when she notices two familiar faces. “And Y/n, it’s good to see you too!” She turns to you with the same mien still permanently plastered on her face. 
You bow your head. Her contagious smile has you mirroring her grin. 
“Come, come, sit.” She waves her hand for the two of you to follow in her trail as she leads both of you to your— undesignated but designated— table that you and Sunghoon would constantly sit at.
Before you even have a chance to pull out your chair, Sunghoon beats you to it with surprising swiftness. The aged wood scrapes gently against the floor as he courteously pulls the chair back for you. A warm smile tugs at your lips as you appreciate this chivalrous gesture, unable to contain a soft giggle of delight. 
Mrs. Kim watches the interaction between the two of you and smirks, completely out of the loop that you have broken up; still under the assumption that you’re both dating to this day. Who could blame her when in her eyes you were the perfect missing piece for one another in this world like you were made for each other from the start. 
“The usual?” She asks despite already knowing the answer to her question. 
“Yes please,” Sunghoon nods.
He sits after folding his blazer in half so that it can rest neatly on the chair's backrest. To add some fuel to the flame, he unbuttons the cuffs to his long sleeves and rolls them past his forearms so that they stop an inch below his elbows. The expensive watch that rests snugly on his wrist glistens, almost blinding you. You’re reminded that the man sitting across from you is responsible for an entire company under his name and capable of powerful things.
You gulp. You feel like you’re watching something you shouldn’t be and instead take an interest in the condiments that are pushed to the side of your table. 
Soy sauce, vinegar, napkins… 
When you think that you’re ready to re-center your attention onto Sunghoon once your racing heart has calmed down from its high, the taller has his eyes closed as he combs his fingers through his hair. His lips are parted ever so slightly and there’s a shine to his plush tiers.
He has to be doing this on purpose now.
You watch the way his Adam apple bobs when he swallows and you swear it should be a sin to look this effortlessly good in warm overhead lighting. 
You huff, a little too audibly for the male across from you to hear and his doe eyes flutter open. The sudden eye contact catches you off guard and you’re struggling to maintain yourself from the tension your mind is projecting. You shift around in your chair trying to find a more comfortable position.
This is going to be a long dinner.
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After Mrs. Kim returned with your delectable dishes, the food vanished quickly as you guys delved into stories and shared the exciting highlights of your respective journeys. You and Sunghoon spent the rest of your meal at the table reminiscing about the past two years including the many ups and downs you’ve dealt with.
You learned that a month after your breakup, Sunghoon’s father officially stepped down, handing over the reins of the company to his son as the new successor. The ravenette confided in you, revealing that even though he had been groomed for this role his whole life, the transition wasn't as smooth as he had envisioned. The weight of responsibility felt overwhelming. Taking charge of a major company brought with it a level of pressure he had never experienced before. The expectations were high, both from the company's board and the employees who had known him since he was young.
As he grappled with the complexities of his new position, Sunghoon couldn't help but reminisce about a simpler life. He missed the carefree moments he used to share with you, the laughter, and the ease of his unannounced visits when he would turn up at your door with snacks he bought from the corner store and canned beer. 
Eventually his determination and drive to persevere kept him standing strong in the face of these obstacles. With his family behind him, a supportive workforce, and you in the back of his mind, he knew he had people to look back on and make them proud. 
You praised the older for his character development, gushing at his transition from uncertainty to confidence, while sympathizing with the initial troubles he first started off with. Being a chairman at his age is bound to weigh heavily on his mental and emotional health, and you can’t help but wish that you had stayed by his side through it all in order to be that support pillar he needed at immediacy.
“So, what about you? I didn’t really get to hear your answer yesterday.” Sunghoon asks.
You blinked. “Me? Well, uhm…” 
A bubble of insecurity creeps into your stomach. Your mind races through a mental checklist of your own achievements, or rather, the lack thereof, especially when compared to Sunghoon’s impressive journey. While your lives have taken very drastically different paths, you can’t shake the feeling that at the end of the day, the two of you are worlds apart from each other. He’s the chairman of a highly respected company. And you? You’re just a college graduate with a bachelor’s degree in fine arts. A pursuit that feels miles away from Sunghoon’s milestones. 
During the period that he was absent from your everyday life, all you managed to build was your art portfolio, which you eagerly sent to numerous galleries in a desperate bid to gain recognition as a struggling artist. Rejection letters became an all too familiar sight, each offering the same hollow praise— impressed but not interested. Those were dark times, where self-doubt loomed large.
Thankfully, your situation started to improve when you summoned the courage to step out of your comfort zone. You took to social media, opening art accounts on Instagram and Twitter, and sharing your artistic odyssey on TikTok. Yunjin, one of your closest friends and best friend since middle school, commissioned you to paint a mural inside a cafe she was working at. “I begged my boss for this to happen!” She said enthusiastically over the phone the night she asked you for the favor. Everything to you was a leap of faith, a glimmer of hope that prompted you to fully believe in the light at the end of every tunnel. 
In spite of your situation turning out for the better, it was impossible to ignore the inescapable sense of solitude and loneliness that clung to you like a shadow. It followed you everywhere you went. A mental reminder that, no matter how bright life was starting to seem, you still felt trapped and not completely content with yourself.
You convey these exact thoughts and feelings to Sunghoon in a messy ramble, hoping that this unintentional therapy session you’ve turned dinner into won’t scare him off. You can only hope that you’re not ruining the evening with a sob story of another art kid struggling to make a name for themselves in a society, where choosing art as a career path is at a greater disadvantage in comparison to your stronger counterparts. 
When you find yourself coming to the end of your rant, a wave of silence washes over the table, and you grab the nearest cup of water to gulp from. Ignoring the condensation that sweats around the glass and soils your palms. Your eyes look everywhere, purposefully avoiding Sunghoon and the tragic visage he’s probably giving you right about now.
“Y/n, look at me.” 
You raise your head, complying to his soft demand. 
“I’m proud of you,” he begins, and in that instant, a surge of emotion that has been suppressed for far too long wells up within you. “It takes a lot of courage and willpower to continue to follow a path you’re uncertain of.” The comment makes Sunghoon chuckle dryly, closely reminded of himself, shaking his head. “But look at you, you’re doing so great.”
The warmth in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes— they combine like a gentle storm, and suddenly, tears brim your eyes, begging to spill over. Your vision is splotchy and you refuse to blink, save for ruining your mascara. You weren’t planning on being an emotional wreck tonight, especially over dinner with your ex.
“I understand how hard it must have been dealing with those struggles alone, and I wish I was there by your side to help support you when it happened.” Sunghoon continues. He pauses to take in a breath before resuming, “But I’m here now… I’m not going anywhere, and if you’d let me— I want back into your life again, Y/n.”
A solitary tear breaks free, followed by another, and then another, until suddenly your eyes unleash a torrent of waterworks like a relentless downpour from a stormy sky. You hide your face in a handful of napkins you hastily grabbed, unaware that Sunghoon got up to move from his seat and slipped into the chair next to yours. His touch catches you off guard but you immediately relax as he guides you into his embrace, allowing you to hide yourself in his arms; your face tucked away in his chest. He caresses your hair, his slender fingers thread through your styled locks as he lulls you to comfort from your shaken state.
The two of you stay rooted in that position until you confidently and mentally reassure yourself that you are okay; you’re going to be okay. Your breathing has calmed down from its high and returned to a normal, healthy rate as your tears subsided and are non-existent.
No longer conscious of your makeup— a matter far from substantial to care for anymore— you wipe away the mess around your eyes. Black clumps of mascara and some concealer transfer onto the napkin. Seeing the stains garner a weak laugh to emit from you. Sunghoon cranes his neck to survey what you’ve become engrossed with. He sees the ruined makeup and laughs lightly into your hair. 
You’re thankful that there aren’t many customers dining in tonight and that it’s just you, Sunghoon, and three other parties who are far too busy drinking, conversing, and laughing amongst themselves to acknowledge the young couple tucked away in the corner.
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Mrs. Kim leads both you and Sunghoon out of the restaurant with a warmth akin to a grandmother bidding her grandchildren farewell, her heartfelt wish for your safe return home evident in her loving smile.
“Goodbye, Mrs. Kim. Thank you, again, for another delicious dinner.” Sunghoon bows at a 90-degree angle and the formality stirs a boisterous laugh from the frail old lady. You mimic his actions, also expressing your gratitude for the lovely meal and free dessert she served to you guys ‘on the house.’ 
“When you guys come back I better see a wedding ring on her finger, Sunghoon-ah.” Mrs. Kim scolds lightly. You almost choke on your own saliva at the remark, coughing awkwardly to cover up your bewilderment. Sunghoon does his best to maintain his composure for the sake of the elder’s oblivion.
“You guys disappear for two years and still no diamond in sight. I was hoping some big change happened!” She clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth, crossing her arms.
Sunghoon dips his head again in an apologetic manner. “You and Mr. Kim will be the first people we come to with a wedding invitation.” 
You whack the taller’s arm giving him a what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about look, eyebrows scrunched with perplexity. The last thing you want is to continue to feed into Mrs. Kim’s false reality that the two of you are still a couple. Who’s to say that Sunghoon isn’t actually on the same page as you and everything is just a facade? I mean, sure, he’s been flirty here and there, bought you flowers, comforted you at dinner, and practically asked you to take him back… 
Your trust in Sunghoon has clearly waned, a result of your fluctuating self-confidence that leads you to confide in the pessimistic "what ifs." Your clouded judgment and self-doubt gnaw at your thoughts, casting doubt on the possibility of a reunion between the two of you. 
Sunghoon ignores the daggers slicing at the left side of his face and the buzzing pain you inflicted on him from the harsh impact of your hand. His digits dig gently into your side, drawing you closer to him. You stumble ever so slightly and flash an unconvincing awkward smile to the old lady.
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You situate yourselves into the driver and passenger seats of his Hyundai Ioniq. You’re quiet when you pull the seat belt over your upper half, and for the first 10 minutes, not a single word was uttered from either you or the male sitting behind the wheel. Your mind loiters as you watch the building lights illuminating the dark troposphere of Seoul whizz by at 2x speed.
You and Mr. Kim will be the first people we come to with a wedding invitation.
Yeah right… You almost roll your eyes but catch yourself prolonging the idea of a hypothetical engagement and wedding ceremony with Sunghoon as your groom. 
Would he have gone down on one knee to propose to you had both of you remained lovers? 
You shake the contemplation loose from your prefrontal cortex. 
“Is it okay if I roll the window down?” You’re the first to break the ice. Sunghoon nods, his attention still focused on the road in front of him. Without looking, his fingers find the car’s air-con button to turn it off and he gives you the ‘go’ to proceed with your desire. 
The tempered glass descends and you’re immediately greeted with the beating rush of the summertime air. You giggle and rest your arms on the weatherstrip trimming of the Hyundai, your head poking out like an excited dog who’s riding in the car with its tongue hanging from its mouth. You close your eyes, taking in the wind that messes with your hair and brushes past your skin. It’s enough to transcend you into a different headspace, almost forgetting that you’re in a moving vehicle and not on some speedboat skidding across the water in Europe.
Sunghoon looks your way, unable to suppress the natural smile that lights up his face whenever he sees you. You truly are a surge of energy he needs when he wants to uplift himself if he’s feeling down. You’re his happy pill— so much so, that he wishes he could keep a chibi version of you for him to carry in the pocket square of his suits and let you rome on the wooden surface of his office desk to help him get through the work day. It’s silly and love-sickening, but Sunghoon only knows how to act a fool with you around him. 
His fingers drum against the padding of the steering wheel, waking you from your daydream. You hadn’t realized that you’ve already made it back to the city and are soon approaching your apartment complex. Your neighborhood is only a couple of turns away from your current destination as the two of you sit at a red light. You roll the window up, at least it was fun for the duration it endured. 
When he pulls up on the side of the street in front of your building, you try to find some lame excuse to stay with him for another minute longer, not wanting to say goodnight to him. You’re scared that this evening will be a one-off event and you'll return to your old ways, enveloped once more in the arms of self-isolation that consumes you completely.
Your grip on the door handle tightens. 
“Sunghoon,” you shift your view in his direction. “You don’t mind walking me to my front door, do you?” 
The male smiles with his eyes.
“Who am I to not accompany a lady when needed.” 
Sunghoon makes quick work to unbuckle himself from the driver’s seat and rounds the front of the car to open the door for you. He holds out his hand for you to take, which you generously do so, and grants him the unspoken permission to whisk you away into the levels of your residential building. 
The elevator ride is a close resemblance to the trip back to your place, however, there’s a contrasting atmosphere waiting to burst like a champagne bottle and spill over. Sunghoon’s holding your hand the entire way and you don’t resist the notion. 
When you approach your unit at the end of the hall, you fish for your keys that are sitting at the bottom of your bag. Sunghoon’s hand slips out of your grasp and you almost whine at the loss of his warmth and touch, but you know he’s only doing it for you to use both free hands to ultimately unlock your door. The click! of the lock coming from the other side is an indication that you can push past the door once the knob is turned.
You stand there, hesitant to enter your own home. 
“I guess— this is it?” You murmur tentatively to yourself and the taller. You rock on your heels purposefully stalling time as you force both him and yourself to stare a little longer at the iron numbers detailing your front door. 
You let out a rigged breath.
“Tonight was great. The longest I’ve been out of the house in a month, really.” You cringe pathetically at the confession knowing that a month ago Yunjin was the one who pulled you out of bed to get some fresh air and sunlight because you were hiding away like a vampire. "Thank you... Sunghoon, for treating me to dinner and spending the evening with me..."
He remains stoic and unusually quiet, making it challenging to decipher what he’s thinking or feeling. You wish you could enter his mind to get a glimpse of how his brain functions. You’d hate to seem pitiful for hoping that his advances from today were, if at all, genuine.
If what he said at dinner was coming from the heart.
As you contemplate what might be your last encounter with your 'the one who got away,’ Sunghoon astounds you with yet another trick up his sleeve, when he secures your wrist in his delicate grasp. Forever one step ahead of you, his lips collide with yours in a passionate fervent. The only appropriate reaction that you can give him in response is to return the kiss with just as much fervor. The strap to your purse slides off your shoulders and lands below you with a little thud thanks to Sunghoon’s antsy hands pushing it out of the way.
He cages you against the surface of the door, your back bumping into it when he forces the distance between your bodies to dissipate. Bothered by the tiny gap that prevents you from being as close as you possibly can to him. The only active barrier is now the layer of clothing he’s wearing and the tiny dress that nearly clings to your every curve. He can’t wait to impatiently rip you out of it and slip in a “I’ll buy you a new one, princess.”
Your hands find sanctuary in his soft hair. How you missed tugging at their roots when he’d go down on you in bed, on the kitchen counter, and in the shower with your one leg supporting your entire weight as Sunghoon made the other side dangle over his shoulder. Those positions are tempting, and biologically the flashbacks of your sexual activity with the male feed into the expansion of your slick that gradually soils your panties.  
You squeeze your thighs together. The pressure of your inner fat is an empty feeling of pleasure that you wish Sunghoon could replace with his tongue, fingers, cock, or all three one at a time. The male notices this cry-for-help and trails his right hand down the sides of your waist. He stops at the lace hemming of the cami dress, bunching the material to provide easy access to your mid-thigh. His fingers dance on your skin, traveling upward ever so slowly in an antagonizing fashion that almost infuriates you for his teasing manner in the heat of the moment. 
Sunghoon reluctantly breaks the kiss. The evidence of your already smudged matte lipstick has left a faint trace on his plump tiers. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, mouth ready to latch onto the sensitive area he knows best that will cloud every crevice of your mind with nothing but want and lust. At the end of this night, all that you will know is how to be his obedient cocksleeve like the good girl he’s conditioned you into.
The sound of someone clearing their throat on the opposite end of your apartment’s hallway is akin to a record player scratch. You’re grateful that the construction workers, or whoever built this place, designed the structure of your building to be a certain way so that the split-off point from the elevator wasn’t a simple corridor style where you could see both fire exits at each side. Instead, it was more so a wide V-shape. 
In other words, no one really caught you and Sunghoon in semi-public eating one another’s faces. 
You stop to share a quiet laugh with Sunghoon and ultimately enter the safe space of your flat, out of your neighbors point of view where they could have had a free, front-row seat to some juicy content. The door closes behind you, you can barely get out of your shoes and make it past the front step leading to your living room when Sunghoon’s haste to have you underneath the sheets with him in your bed has you stumbling backward. He catches you before you can register that you would have fallen onto your ass against the hardwood. His lips serve him well, contributing to the situation as a distraction that redirects your every inner thought bubble. 
Sunghoon casually kicks off his shoes, adding them to the haphazard pile alongside yours— the least of his concerns at the moment.
The kiss from outside repeats itself, and this time, Sunghoon can contently resume what he intended to do had another tenant not interrupted the mood. But the voyeurism exploration kink in him would have liked either sequence of events. 
His tongue traces a wet stripe up your neck, sending a shiver cascading down your spine. You dully bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the whimper that is sanctioned at the back of your throat, trapped by a surge of lust and anticipation. Sunghoon’s mouth ghosts over the shell of your ear, and his hot breath tickles. 
“I wanna hear you, baby.” He slurs. “Don’t be shy on me now.” 
Sunghoon’s lips sheathe that sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to gasp. Your shoulders tense at the foreign feeling of his mouth on your body, and you’ve forgotten how good it was to receive a hickey. You relax under his touch when he gives the soft fat of your waist a reassuring squeeze.
His canines graze your skin while he sucks on the same patch, switching interchangeably to lap his tongue at the area when he begins to see a blossom of red and purple hues mix together, creating the prettiest bruise that would surely take more than a couple of days to fully heal. You groan when his teeth apply the right amount of force onto your flesh, leaving indents in their wake. His perverted mind relishes in the fact that only he is capable of marking you in ways that no other man could ever come close to.
He steps back to fully appreciate his canvas, that is you, and the absolute masterpiece that you are to him.
He leans in, pressing another kiss to your lips, this time with a gentler, more tender spirit, devoid of any sloppy motions. It’s delicate, a striking contrast to the heated lip-locking session the two of you were entranced with just moments ago on the other side of your apartment door. His larger palms cup your face as the pads of his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks, making you feel loved and cared for.
Sunghoon lures your tongue into his mouth, clamping his lips around the muscle. He suckles at it, eliciting the cutest whimpers that he missed hearing from you since you’ve been gone. 
“Hnngh… Hah,” you pry yourself off of him, a string of your shared saliva connects the two of your equally moist lips. 
Your puffy lips shimmer in the moonlight streaming into your livingroom, as if the moon itself decided to play a starring role tonight. You squeeze his bicep, noticing that the muscle has doubled in size since you last touched it. You peer up at the taller through your eyelashes and Sunghoon has to conceal his primal instincts from fucking your throat with his raging hard-on. 
Your fingers graze the fabric of his long-sleeve collar, tracing delicate patterns across the black tie donned around his neck. Something about being able to witness a man up close in a suit never failed to provoke a flood of arousal from overwhelming your erogenous zone. Specifically, Sunghoon. It’s a shame— not really— that it eventually has to come off. With a deft touch, you begin to unravel the four-in-hand knot, a testament to Sunghoon’s meticulous self-preparation. The silk unravels, revealing its intricate texture beneath your fingertips. 
You assist Sunghoon in removing his suit jacket next, observing it gracefully descend to the floor. You briefly wonder why he's so nonchalant about leaving such an expensive garment on the ground, but he dismisses your concern with a wave of his hand. After all, as a chairman, he has the means and privilege to easily replace such clothing items.
You decide that it’s your turn to take the lead for once and initiate another heated session of sultry lip service. Your mouth kisses Sunghoon’s with primal hunger. Teeth clash, and you see no remorse for your hostility sponsored by pent-up sexual frustration and longing for some sort of relief that only Sunghoon can render. 
In a poor attempt to unbutton the last layer of clothing that shields Sunghoon’s upper half, your fingers fumble with the small disks that are fastened by the slits. You whine frustratedly against his lips once you realize you’re not making much progress. It is incredibly hard to multitask when your tongue is being manhandled by his.
“Here, lemme do it.“ Sunghoon mutters in a low growl. 
He tears open the placket just like he would to a bag of chips, and the buttons you were struggling to relieve him of pop off in ease, taunting you for your lack of efficiency at getting him out of his attire. He wriggles his arms free from the restraints of his sleeves and shrugs the apparel from the summit of his shoulders, allowing the ruined piece to join his suit jacket on the floor.
“Your turn, babe.” 
He twirls you around, your back fully pressed against his front as the tent in his pants pokes at your globes. The thrill of his length nestled between your ass spurs you to grind yourself on him, a staggered exhale of his hot breath fans the curvature of your trapezius, prickling your skin. The cotton material of your underwear cultivates a sticky sensation the longer you stay trapped in it.
“S-shit baby, you’re a fucking tease.” Sunghoon grabs your chin, forcing your head to turn his way so that he can seize your lips in an inconsistent kiss. Alternatively, it’s a tongue duel of him wanting to shove the muscular organ down your throat.
“A-ahh,” You moan helplessly.
He yanks the zipper of your dress. The item peels off of your bust, exposing your bare skin and naked torso simultaneously. You have to wriggle your hips past the remaining fabric in order to fully reveal your bare figure to Sunghoon— besides your damp panties that is.
“No bra today? It’s almost like you were expecting this to happen…” Sunghoon taunts.
“N-no…” You squeak, shaking your head.
“No? Use your words baby.”
You turn to face him, your perky mounds that come into his view are a sight for sore eyes. Even in the dark and scant amount of natural lighting from the celestial object in the night sky, is Sunghoon competent at reading your flustered features. How you manage to be cute yet look so lewd all at once is beyond his comprehension.
“I-I didn’t wear a bra because I thought it’d be easier to go without one.” You mumble, telling the truth.
“That’s better,” Sunghoon coos. He pecks your cheek and you smile at the reward.
“Eeek! S-Sunghoon!” You burst into a fit of shared laughter and giggles when said name scoops you into his arms, your body cradled against his chest, as your legs dangled over his one arm while the other supports your back.
“Just practicing when we’re both walking down the aisle at our future wedding.” Sunghoon jests.
Tenderness fills your eyes when you look up at him. He’s joked about the hypothetical conception of marriage twice in the night that you’re fully convinced it wouldn’t be all that bad of an idea. Given that both of you are ready and first rekindle the status of your relationship, of course.
Sunghoon grins. There’s a gentle kindness to his pearly whites, and you reach up to press a chaste kiss to his jawline.
He relocates to your bedroom. Gently, he lays you down on the bed, your body propped up on your forearms, bearing the weight of your upper half. With an unwavering gaze, you study Sunghoon closely, every detail of his expression and every nuance of his presence.
His eyebrows knit and meet in the middle, fixated on undoing his pants to escape from their restraints, followed by his underwear soon after. His stiff member rebounds off his lower abdomen, precum leaking from the mushroom tip. A satisfied exhale leaves his mouth. He stalks over to you with a sly smirk, towering your smaller frame when he crawls on top of the bed, his knees plant themselves into the mattress and his additional weight dips the space where you lay.
You whine when his length ghosts at the expanse of your inner thigh, suspense and arousal continue to bubble inside of you. Sunghoon murmurs for you to lay back. “Make yourself comfortable,” were his initial instructions before hooking the waistband of your panties with his fingers and dragging them below your legs. The undergarment was tossed to the side.
You nibble at your bottom lip and screw your eyes shut when a slender finger circles the perimeter of your labia.
“You’re so wet babe,” Sunghoon purrs.
Your breath hitches at the back of your throat when he slides his index finger through your inner lips, gathering an abundance of your slick to bring to his mouth for a taste. Both eyes flutter open in time to witness Sunghoon suck at the digit drenched with your arousal. The sight is sinfully lewd, nearly too much for you to handle. Your face reddens and you fight the inclination to hide behind your hands.
“You taste so good, too.“ He licks at his lips. “Wanna try?” Sunghoon cocks his head to the side, and you can’t find it in you to turn down his offer when he looks so innocent— yet acts like the devil himself when he’s overcome with lust. You nod your head with approval.
His duality needs to be studied at Harvard, you think in the back of your mind.
Sunghoon plunges his index finger past your hole, triggering your back to arch an inch off the bed. He chuckles lowly and watches as your hands grab desperately at the sheets beneath you to steady your sanity. The singular digit curls inside of you. Your unforeseen shock is vocalized in the form of a moan and Sunghoon repeats the motion several times.
“O-oh my god—“ You gasp.
The ravenette withdraws his finger and taps at your mouth, signaling you to open. You submit to his implicit dictation. Your lips encase his pointer, tongue swirling around it like a piece of sweet candy you’re tasting for the first time.
You bat your eyelashes prettily and moan. “Mmmh…”
“Dirty girl,” Sunghoon sniggers. He retracts his finger and you let it slip past your mouth with a ‘pop’ sound.
“Can you please give me your cock now?” You plead with a pout, doing your best impression of an endearing set of puppy eyes.
Sunghoon chuckles. “Let me at least prep you first, baby. How long has it been since you’ve had someone’s cock inside of you, anyways?”
You part your lips but close it just as quickly. To be candid, you've never been one to actively immerse yourself in the 'I'm single' scene. Your only foray into it was with Yunjin, roughly three weeks after your split with Sunghoon. The two of you ventured to a club, but it proved to be a brief endeavor. Within two hours, the fifth shot became a catalyst, turning you into an unending fountain of tears.
“Y/n?”
“Huh? Oh. Sorry…”
“I’m sorry baby. Did I overstep your boundaries?” Sunghoon cups your face with his right hand, his eyes scan yours, sincerity and concern laced in those chocolate orbs of his.
You stifle a giggle. Of all boundaries he could have crossed he draws the line at asking for your body count and not him fingering you.
“What? What’s so funny?” He asks.
“Nothing just… I think it’s ironic you ask me that now and not before we did all of this.” You motion to your bare bodies when you say ‘this.’
Sunghoon’s ears redden.
“But don’t worry, Hoonie.” You hook your arms around his neck and pull him closer to pepper his face with several reassuring kisses. “I don’t mind it all. Now can you please fuck my brains out!”
Your ex (whatever he is to you at this point) throws his head back to share a quick laugh, shortly pressing his forehead against yours.
Without warning, he buries three fingers in your pussy; your hips twitch at the sentience. They slide in and out without strain and together the two of you watch as he finger fucks your hole to “prep” for his cock. The squelching noise of your juices fill the room in addition to your moaning, and Sunghoon confronts a hurdle of his patience wearing thin, wanting to fuck you senseless.
His digits leave your hole and you whine immediately at the loss. Sunghoon uses the mass quantity of slick as a substitute for lube to lather on his angry cock. He shuffles against the bed, forcing your legs even further apart to fit himself in between them. The stretch burns your muscles but is soon forgotten when the tip of his length is rubbing your folds, occasionally bumping your swollen clit which generates a needy whine.
Sunghoon’s face screws with ecstasy when his shaft inches past your entrance. Your walls hug his length and he whimpers at the tight muscles that suffocate his erection. You squirm under him, tensed and breathing heavily. It’s hard to relax when seven inches feel like it’s splitting you in half after a long hiatus from sex. Sunghoon notices your discomfort and stills his hips from pushing further, allowing you the necessary time to adjust.
“Sorry baby, I know it’s been a while. You can take it, right? Like the good girl you are?”
You nod. He kisses your forehead, cheek, and lips to soothe your anxiety, using his lips as a distraction to keep your mind from zoning in on his cock. He seizes the opportunity to fit the rest of his length inch-by-inch, and you feel like a virgin all over again when the burn of his cock stretching you open is almost too unbearable.
“Sshh, it’ll be alright, baby.” He wipes away a loose tear. “I’m gonna move, tell me when and if it’s too much, okay?”
“O-okay, Hoonie…”
Steadily, Sunghoon recedes his hips, cock following in suit, just enough for the tip to be the only thing that your pussy clenches on. He snaps forward, your boobs jiggle at the motion and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head when he repeatedly thrusts at a steadfast pace. The pain you were once scared of is no longer a fear you have to worry about, as pleasure is the only thing you know how to feel.
“F-faster, harder, p-please Hoon.” You fight through broken moans to let your voice be heard.
“Shit—“ He curses.
Sunghoon’s fingers dig into the plush fat of your waist while his other hand presses into the space of your bed next to the side of your head. His eyebrows knit, focused entirely on increasing the speed of his thrusts. He continues to piston fuck your pussy, abusing your hole in the utmost gratifying procedure. Your thighs jiggle each time that his balls slap against your skin. Everything reminds him of an amateur homemade video he’s seen from other couples perform on Pornhub. He’ll have to ask you some other day if you’d ever be open to filming your own tapes to watch back.
“Mmh, right there, Hoonie.” You sigh dreamily, locking your legs around his waist and linking your ankles together. “You’re fucking me so good— Aah!” A high pitch squeal slips from your vocal box when his tip probes at your G-spot.
“F-fuck,” Sunghoon leans in close, relying only on one forearm to hold himself up from crushing you with his entire weight. He hides his face in your boobs, tongue flicking at the sensitive bud that hardens in response. He persistently thrusts deeper, his cockhead pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Hnngh… Y-yes, yesyesyes!” You chant. Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, scratching gently at his scalp and tugging whenever his mouth would suck or massage at your breasts. “You’re gonna— make me c-cum!“
Sunghoon’s unrelenting despite your warning. He can feel your walls clamping around his shaft, signaling your impending orgasm, and it taunts him to force himself deeper within your warm cavern at every jerk of his hips. Your hands fall to his biceps. Nails digging into his skin as your face distorts into extreme pleasure.
“I’m so close too, baby.” He groans. “Just.” Thrust. “A.” Thrust. “Couple.” Thrust. “M-more!”
“I’m cumming! I’m c-cumming—“ Your hips tremble with a frenzied urgency as your pussy pulsates around Sunghoon’s cock. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp and a long, impassioned moan escapes your lips. The sheer intensity of the moment leaving you incoherent and lost in ecstasy.
Sunghoon twitches inside of you. “Hah— you’re so— fuck!— s-sexy,” He grunts. Your head thrashes at the overstimulation of his length continuously pumping into you and you push at Sunghoon’s chest weakly, crying on his cock for him to slow down. You whine, whimper, plead for mercy so that your pussy can recover from the intense orgasm you just experienced not too long ago. In spite of that, he ignores your pleas and concentrates on finishing. It isn’t until white ropes of cum are shooting at your walls when his thrusts start to get sloppier and progressively come to a stop.
“Fuck.” Sunghoon exhales through gritted teeth. Both of you are a panting mess trying to catch your breaths as your chests rise and fall synchronously. The ravenette pulls out slowly and he groans when he sees his seed spill out of your hole, it closely reminds him of those hentai comics he’s read through illegal websites.
“I’ll get something to help clean you up.” Sunghoon lifts his weight from the bed but you reach for his forearm to grab him. You don’t have to say anything for him to understand that you don’t want him to leave your side. He brings a hand to yours, the pad of his thumb grazing the hills of your knuckles soothingly. “It’ll be fast, I promise.”
Not even 30 seconds has gone by when he re-enters your room with a damp cloth. He wipes at the areas where a mix of your cum and his seed litter your skin with sticky residue. He discards of the ruined cloth before joining you in bed where you welcome him with open arms. He plops down next to you and you turn to lay on your side so that you can get a proper view of his handsome face in post-sex afterglow. You reach out to gently touch his moles that adorn his features. The moles you missed seeing as the first thing in the morning when you’d wake up with him by your side. He grins lazily and cranes his neck to bring his lips to your forehead.
“Sunghoon…?” Your faces are merely inches apart from one another. Though the close proximity is not a foreign situation— especially after just having sex— you speak to him with a hushed tone.
“Yes?” He inquires.
“At the restaurant, you implied that you wanted to get back together again… Is it true? Do you really mean it?” Your lips are quivering and you mentally berate yourself for being so soft hearted in these types of scenarios where emotions are high, vulnerable, and transparency is called upon.
Sunghoon breathes shakily. “I really mean it. I miss you, Y/n.” He tucks away loose strands of hair that fall on your face. “These past two years without you have been hell. The first couple of months were so bad, I almost reconsidered being the chairman for father’s company so I could fight for us. Fight for you. I’m sorry if that part of my life got in our way as a couple, and I wish I had made more of an effort to be around you.”
You sniffle, “It wasn’t just your fault. I should’ve communicated instead of thinking I know better and that I thought what I did was for the greater good— because it wasn’t. And you’re right, the two years I spent without you were awful. I never wanna go through that again.”
Sunghoon loops an arm around your waist and guides your head to bury against his chest.
“We don’t have to.”
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Morning rays gently infiltrate the room as Sunghoon stands before the full-length mirror in your shared master bedroom. His voice carries across the space as he greets his loving wife, 'Good morning, Mrs. Park,' while he meticulously adjusts his tie.
You stir in bed. The unwelcome intrusion of sunlight forces you awake despite the supposedly blackout curtains you requested when you first moved in with Sunghoon. You sigh in irritation. Dismissing the hope of another ten minutes of sleep, you push yourself upright, your arms stretching above your head, accompanied by a vibrant yawn. Sunghoon, amused by your morning ritual, chuckles softly.
“Still sleepy?” Your husband turns to face you after successfully finishing the Windsor knot of his tie. You blink away the fog of grogginess from your eyes and grin when you get a clear vision of your husband clad in his usual work uniform.
“Mmm… you’re so handsome.”
Sunghoon's face lights up with a genuine smile, touched by your kind words that always seem to set the perfect tone for his day. He approaches your side of the bed with a confident saunter and takes a seat beside you.
“Any plans for today, my lovely wife?”
You can't help but giggle at his endearing habit of calling you 'wife' and 'Mrs. Park.' It's become a sweet tradition between the two of you, a reminder of your loving bond that has grown since your wedding day. You twist your hand to observe the silver band that ornaments your ring finger. The diamond twinkles back at you in the bask of the light.
“I think Yunjin and I are getting brunch, then we’re going shopping right after, and later in the evening we’re gonna drink some wine and paint as we gossip about our husbands.”
Sunghoon laughs. “You’ve got a busy day ahead of yourself then.” He nudges your side playfully and you giggle. “Don’t forget to fit me into your schedule. Let’s go out for dinner tonight.”
“Cold noodles and ginseng chicken soup?”
“Where it all started.”
You envelop yourself in your husband's embrace, showering him with affectionate kisses. Starting from his moles and moving to both cheeks, his nose, forehead, and, ultimately, his irresistible lips, you express your love and absolute adoration for him with each tender peck.
“I love you, Mr. Park.” You murmur against his plush tiers.
His fingers delicately sweep aside the loose strands of hair obscuring your face, as he lovingly takes in every captivating feature, examining them with deep worship.
“I love you more, Mrs. Park.”
Two years ago you and Sunghoon sealed the knot in California. The ceremony took place at the Alila Ventana wedding venue, perched on a cliff along the rugged coast line of Big Sur. It offered a dramatic landscape, nestled amidst towering redwood trees, and a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean; the perfect picturesque backdrop for photos and videography. The outdoor spaces, gourmet dining, and coastal elegance were truly significant factors of your reception.
Sunghoon kept his promise to Mrs. Kim when the time came to send out the wedding invitations. Her excitement was beyond words as both of you entered the restaurant, radiating a newfound delight. Her gaze immediately fixated on the sparkling diamond ring on your finger— the same one she had scolded him for, which was now complete.
Come time to exchange your vows, Sunghoon's heartfelt declaration to cherish and devote himself to your love made it extremely difficult to keep your makeup in tact. Yunjin, your appointed maid of honor, had to step in to hand you tissues one after the other. The audience laughing to themselves at your showcase of emotions.
True to his words, Sunghoon carried you bridal style as he stalked down the aisle. Your families and friends cheering from their seats, their joyous applause resonating through the air. The warmth of their smiles and the happy tears in their eyes mirrored the love that enveloped you both in that moment.
Since then, life with Sunghoon after marriage was anything but dull.
2K notes · View notes
qqueenofhades · 2 years
Note
Hi! I know Charles is terrible for a number of reasons, but if it’s not too much trouble can I get like, a top 10 list or something lol, that I may be able to pull out over the following months when people are like “well he’s not thaaaat bad.” I wouldn’t even know where to start looking, not to mention what might be buried or hard to find.
Oh boy, this is my time. (Well, again.)
Aside from how awfully Charles treated Diana while they were married, let's start with the massive ongoing cash-for-honors scandal and the investigation into his private charity for basically selling personal access to him (the future British monarch) in exchange for, sometimes, literal duffel bags of black cash. (Don't worry, they promised with all seriousness that next time, they would absolutely stop taking those!) This was also happening at the same time as the police probe into his younger brother Andrew for, y'know, being a statutory rapist and sex trafficker who hosted Kevin Spacey and Ghislaine Maxwell as his personal guests at Buckingham Palace. Yet again, the Palace bureaucracy tried to insist that Charles Didn't Know About This Personally!!!, because the "good prince" is exempt from the dealings of his treacherous and corrupt advisors. Mmmmhmmm.
In another case of being the most oblivious person ever, at best, Charles's charity also happily took a donation of one million pounds from the bin Laden family (yes, THAT bin Laden family). Of course when it came out, they insisted that it had been properly vetted and it was from the respectable Saudi business bin Laden! Not, y'know, the terrorist ones! I guess money from anywhere for any reason is just fine, at least until you get caught and have to do some fast talking. Possibly this is because Charles and Camilla's fancy-health-food Waitrose brand, "Duchy Originals," got busted for fraud and advocating dangerous and ineffective homeopathic remedies (which Charles has also used his public platform to advocate for, including his batshit belief that coffee enemas can cure cancer). He also likewise used his platform to interfere in civic and architectural plans that he didn't like, and is generally known for being much more outspoken and politically visible than his mother. I mean sure, his parents sucked and were physically and emotionally distant, so that can't really help growing up in such a fucked-up environment, but still.
In his (very limited) defense, I will say that he has, for quite a while, advocated for sustainability programs and action on climate change, but considering all the efforts that he himself would have to make to truly support those actions on more than just a vocal or interest-based level, that is not something that we can hang on him as a laurel. Besides, he's still the inheritor of the entire British monarchy and its whole fucked-up system, and unless he plans to change literally all of that, yeah.
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hongcherry · 3 months
Text
you're my tomorrow | j.ww
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At first, you didn't think anything of it. Jeon Wonwoo was just a customer. However, his daily visits to your bookstore café started to become the highlight of your days. The little conversations here and there made you happy. It's because of him that you always look forward to tomorrow.
☕️ Pairing: customer!Wonwoo x cafeOwner!Reader
☕️ Rating/Genres/AUs: PG; Fluff with a sprinkle of angst, slice of life; Strangers to lovers, cafe au, non!idol au
☕️ Warnings: Reader is smaller than Wonu, ultra soft boi and supportive wonu *swoons*... can't think of anything else but ofc lmk otherwise
☕️ Word Count: 5k
☕️ Author's Note: Thank you to @justsomekpopstuff for giving me this plot idea! I def got carried away and wrote way more than I thought I would lol. I hope you enjoy it! Everyone thank JJ for the storyline ✨ Also, thank you Jess (@the-boy-meets-evil) for beta'ing and giving me amazing suggestions for some edits! 💗
Happy holidays to all (if you celebrate)! Stay safe and have a nice time 💖
seventeen masterlist | main masterlist
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Monday
When the door chimes a little after eight at night, you know it’s him.
He strolls in, usual glasses perched on his nose and jacket layered with a few specks of snow. His hair isn’t styled, soft waves adorning his head. He looks like the average person who’s winding down from a long day at work. From the two and a half months you’ve known him, this is his usual state on Monday nights.
Wonwoo entered your cozy bookstore café nearly three months ago. His order rarely varies, and sometimes he orders a drink he could get anywhere else. Yet, for some reason, he always comes here.
And throughout those months, you’ve realized you always look forward to his presence.
“Busy evening?” he asks while stepping up to the counter.
You’re in the middle of packing a pastry for another customer and quickly hand off the bag to your coworker.
“More so than usual; it’s finals week,” you reply with a small smile.
Wonwoo glances around, nodding as he takes in the sight of many tables occupied by people with textbooks, laptops, and notes scattered around them.
“I don’t miss those days,” he chuckles.
“I don’t either,” you agree. “So, what can I get you today?”
Wonwoo peers up at the menu behind you. You wonder why he does so since he usually rotates between three drinks.
“A hot chocolate,” he replies.
“Oh?” You can’t hide your surprise.
He grins, tilting his head slightly. “Should I have ordered something else?”
“No!” you hastily say. “You can order whatever you want.”
He pulls out a bill that exceeds the cost of the order and slides it to your side of the counter.
“Just thought I’d try something new for the holidays,” he explains, then leaves to find a seat.
“Wait!” you call out, bill in your hand. “You paid too much!”
If Wonwoo can hear you, he pretends he doesn’t. He continues his journey and ends up in the corner next to a window by the bookshelves. He retrieves a book from his bag, opening it where his bookmark rests.
Your hand falls to the counter with a heavy sigh. You guess you’ll give him his change when you give him his order. Normally, you’d call customer’s names or numbers for pick-up. But Wonwoo is different.
Wonwoo’s one of the rare customers who gets his order hand-delivered.
After completing the transaction in the system and making his drink, you grab his change from the register and walk to his table.
“One hot chocolate,” you announce and set the cup down along with his change.
“I’ll take the drink,” he says and brings it closer, blatantly ignoring the cash next to it.
“Wonwoo,” you say.
“Yn,” he answers, eyes flickering up.
There’s a small smirk on his lips that makes your insides churn.
“You overpaid,” you simply state.
“So?”
You move his money closer. “So, take it back.”
Wonwoo slides the money back to you. “Consider it a tip.”
“You know we don’t take tips here,” you say, moving it again.
“You should. You all work hard.”
“People are already struggling as is. If they can find solace in a little place like this, that’s all that matters.”
Wonwoo rests his hands on top of yours, which is still on the money, and slides it back to you.
“Then consider it a holiday present. From me to you,” he smiles.
His hand feels warm on yours. Your eyes move down, but you wish you hadn’t.
His large hand nearly covers yours, making you feel small yet protected. You can tell from his build that he’s strong and fit. You wonder what it’d be like to get a hug from him.
“I—” you struggle to speak.
“It’d make me happy.”
You sigh, nodding hesitantly.
He slowly removes his hand. “Thank you.”
“N-No problem,” you say, gathering the change and pocketing it. “Enjoy your book and drink.”
“Thanks,” Wonwoo replies and picks up his book. He holds it up with one hand and uses the other to sip his hot chocolate.
You make your way back to the front, trying to ignore the lingering warmth on your hand and the feeling in your chest.
Tuesday
Wonwoo shows up at the same time but orders one of his usual drinks. It's a different book than yesterday and judging by the similar cover, it's probably the next one in the series.
Ever since Wonwoo “gifted” you money, you’ve been trying to think of something to get him. It’s a little tough considering you don’t actually know him. You know he works a duty-heavy job and that he lives nearby. You know he has a lot of friends despite him being so quiet. Although you’ve never seen Wonwoo and his friends in the same room, they often come with him to the café in duos or trios.
You also learned he’s an avid cat and gaming lover.
You were surprised about the latter.
“Is he also a student?” one of your new coworkers, Sebastian, asks thirty minutes after Wonwoo’s arrival.
You wipe off the cup in your hand and set it on the counter, calling the number associated with it.
“No, he graduated already,” you reply and watch him practice making a drink.
“You seem to know him. Are you two friends?” he wonders.
You lean against the counter. “I don’t think so. He’s just a regular here, so I’ve learned a few things here and there.”
“Ah,” he replies and hands you the finished drink.
You take the drink and start taking a sip to see how well he did.
“You should ask him out.”
You choke on the drink, eyes wide as you reach for a napkin to wipe your chin.
“T-That wouldn’t be appropriate,” you stammer.
He laughs and takes the drink from you. “He’s not working here, and it’s not like you’re paying for him to come by. I don’t see how it’s inappropriate.”
You sigh, knowing he has a point. It’s not that you’re not attracted to Wonwoo, but it feels almost out of line. Plus, you’re not sure if you like Wonwoo, or just like the thought of him. You haven’t been in a relationship in years and would be lying to say you don’t miss having a partner.
You miss being able to share life memories with someone.
Wonwoo’s handsome. He’s kind, funny, caring, and fit—not that that’s a big deciding factor, but it sure is a bonus. Though, do you just want someone with those attributes, or do you want him?
“Just think about it,” Sebastian suggests and greets a new customer.
Your eyes drop to your feet in thought.
Part of you worries you’d make it awkward if he says no. It’s not like you are friends, so you won’t be ruining a friendship, but you enjoy seeing his face every day. His simple presence is one of the highlights of your days.
Plus, you don’t even know if he has a partner already!
You groan, putting a hand over your forehead as you try to organize your thoughts.
“Bad night?” a familiar voice asks from over the counter.
You drop your hand to see who it is.
Wonwoo stands with his empty cup and saucer, book tucked under his arm.
“Ah, uh, not really,” you reply sheepishly. You can’t disclose the true reason for your state; you’ve never been the best liar either.
“Well, I hope whatever is troubling you passes soon,” he says and holds out his dirty dishes.
“You could’ve left them on the table,” you say, grabbing them from his grasp. Your fingers touch his, and it’s difficult not to feel like a silly teenager in the movies, especially with your current predicament.
“I know,” he smiles, “but I wanted to tell you bye, and you seem busy.”
You set the items in the sink before addressing him again. “Still… But thank you anyway.”
“The drink was great, as always.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he says, slowly stepping away from the counter.
You smile, nodding. “See you.”
His eyes linger on you before he turns and exits your café.
Wednesday
Wonwoo comes and goes as usual. It’s a busy night and you’re unable to speak to him much. It’s not the first time that has happened, so he doesn’t seem bothered by the lack of interaction. Regardless, you wish you could’ve spoken to him more.
That night was spent browsing the internet for the perfect gift for Wonwoo.
From gaming headsets to the top-rated books on Goodreads, you felt like you scoured every possible present for him. But none of them satisfied you.
It wasn’t until you came across bookmarks in your recommended section that you decided what to get him.
Maybe a bookmark was too boring, but you figured it was the safer option.
You spend over an hour searching for the right bookmark, but again, you come up short. They’re either too flowery, too plain, or too cliché.
In the end, you opt for making your own.
You find some DIY bookmark kits online and place an order. Trying not to second guess your decision, you call it a night—going to sleep as you brainstorm what to put on the item.
Thursday
“Do people actually read these books?” Wonwoo asks during your break, which you decided to spend with him.
Your gaze follows his to the wall lined with several bookshelves.
You chuckle, “Sometimes.”
“You said you got these books donated?” he asks, recalling an earlier conversation you had when he was a newcomer.
“Most of them,” you hum.
“Does your offer still stand?” he asks.
You turn to him with puzzlement.
He smiles. “You said I could take a book if I left one.”
“Oh,” you laugh out of embarrassment for forgetting. “Of course.”
Wonwoo nods and then stands up. He takes two steps to his right, then carefully plucks a book from a high shelf. He replaces the empty space with his own book.
Something about the simple act has your heartwarming. Or maybe it’s the way he’s so gentle with the books as if they’ll cry if moved too aggressively. You wonder if he’d touch you as carefully, if given the chance. Would you find comfort in his caresses the way you think the books would if they were personified?
Wonwoo sits in his seat again, perching his glasses higher after they slide down.
“Have you read this?” he asks, twisting the book so the cover faces you.
You analyze it for a moment, but the title doesn’t ring a bell.
Shaking your head, “Unfortunately not. I haven’t had the chance to read in a long while.”
“I guess running a business is time-consuming,” he teases lightly.
“How do you find the time? Didn’t you say your work is hard, too?” you ask.
He leans back in his seat, book resting in his lap.
“I make time,” he simply says. “I found it’s important to make time for things I care about.”
He’s staring at you in a way that makes you think there’s more to his words than he lets on.
“T-That’s a good habit, I suppose,” you say.
“When was the last time you did something for yourself, and not the café?” he questions.
Your brows furrow in deep thought. You thought the answer would come easily, but it doesn’t.
“I—I can’t remember,” you answer with your gaze down, a little dejected at the self-reflection.
Wonwoo sits up and leans toward you. He lowers himself until he can snag eye contact.
“Don’t be too harsh on yourself,” he reassures. “I know what it’s like to bury myself in my work.”
“You probably think I’m pathetic, huh?” you laugh awkwardly.
Wonwoo shakes his head.
“It’s good to be dedicated to something. Your efforts are clearly visible,” he gestures to your crowded café. “But at the same time, it’s also good to not burn yourself out.”
You nod in agreement. “I’ll try to be better.”
“Not for me though. For you,” he says.
You offer him a kind smile that he returns. “For me.”
Friday
Wonwoo doesn’t come at his usual time.
You finally finished his gift last night and are eager to show it to him. You try to suppress your excitement, but it’s difficult to calm your mix of emotions.
As you made it, you realized it was the first time doing something non-work related. Usually, you’d be researching new recipes, doing finances, or simply sleeping. Last night, however, you were doing something personal.
Wonwoo’s words from yesterday ring loudly in your ears.
It felt good to take a break from work.
It felt good to feel like an actual person and not some workaholic machine.
Some say people come into your life for a reason. Maybe you’d still be stuck in your cycle, if not for him.
You wish he were here. 
Wonwoo’s usually a punctual man, so being this late sends uneasy nerves coursing through you. But, the idea of him not showing up at all is even more worrisome. 
Perhaps he’s working overtime and will be here soon. He’s never missed a day.
Yet, as minutes turn into hours, you begin losing hope.
Excitement transitions into worry. This isn’t his typical behavior. You don’t have a way to contact him either.
Is he hurt? Does he need help? Did you say something wrong yesterday? Did he finally decide he doesn’t like your café anymore?
Perhaps you’re too caught up with giving him your gift that you’re overreacting. It could simply be a late, late night at work for him.
He’ll be here.
Even if he just grabs his drink to go, which he’s done in the past, he’ll be here.
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The bell chimes as your last coworker leaves for the night.
Wonwoo’s present sat abandoned in your locker throughout your shift. There’s an odd discomfort in your chest as you stare at it now. 
You’re not sure if it originates from being unable to gift it and see Wonwoo’s reaction, or if it’s because he never showed up.
Probably a combination of both, but more so the latter.
It’s uncanny to not see Wonwoo every day.
You had never thought about how you’d feel if you didn’t see him constantly. He was just always there. Always so reliable that you didn’t feel the need to consider what if.
What if he stopped showing up? What if you never saw him again? What if he no longer was a constant in your life?
You swallow the lump forming in your throat.
It’s a harsh reality to know he’s not required to visit. He can leave any time he wants. He can stop visiting your bookstore café at any moment.
There’s a strange thought about you not being good enough for him. Though, you’re not sure what that has anything to do with his absence.
Why would it matter if you weren’t good enough for him? He didn’t come to the café for you.
Did he?
If it was you he wanted, couldn’t he ask you out? Perhaps not as a romantic date, but as friends?
He never has, so he must not want to know you beyond the café. Meaning, he doesn’t come to it solely for you.
But, what changed for him not to show up tonight?
Unsettled with your thoughts, you decide to distract yourself with the final tasks you have to do before you leave.
However, the ride home is filled with more endless thoughts about Wonwoo.
Saturday
You come to work with less bounce in your step than usual.
The world outside seems dimmer. It feels as if the skies are going to be consumed with clouds and rain is going to fall. However, a storm was not in the weather’s forecast.
“Are you getting sick?” Sebastian asks.
You force a smile onto your face for the customer in front of you, handing them their order before looking at your coworker.
“No, why?” you wonder.
“You don’t seem well. Did you not sleep well last night?”
You wish you had, but you tossed and turned constantly. You didn’t think Wonwoo’s absence would affect you so much, but your mind kept wandering to every possibility for his no-show. In the end, you just gave yourself a headache.
“No,” you sigh, “but don’t worry about me.”
You try to smile again, but you’re sure Sebastian can see through it.
“Want me to close up tonight?” he offers.
“Don’t you have a big essay due tomorrow?” you question, remembering how stressed he sounded a few days ago.
“Yeah, but—”
“I’ll be fine,” you insist.
Huffing, he nods and grabs the cup from your hand. “Then go rest for a bit while I finish these orders.”
You purse your lips, contemplating arguing. In the end, you relent, moving to the backroom’s couch and plopping down.
You’ve been scrolling through your phone for ten minutes when you hear a familiar voice.
“Is Yn not here today?”
“Oh, she’s not feeling well, so she’s taking a break. Is there something wrong with our service?” Sebastian answers politely.
You shove your phone in your pocket and head to the door. There’s a small window that you peep out of.
You catch a glimpse of Wonwoo’s frown before he speaks again.
“No, everything’s fine. Will you tell her I hope she feels better?” he asks.
Sebastian nods slowly. Although you can’t see his face, you can see the cogs turn in his head.
“Oh! Ooh! You’re that guy.”
Wonwoo looks confused.
“I’m sorry?” Wonwoo replies.
“The guy that always comes in—”
Not trusting Sebastian to keep his matchmaking attempts at bay, you push through the door.
“Wonwoo,” you greet, trying not to seem too eager that he's here today even though you are.
Wonwoo’s eyes drift past Sebastian to see you. Instantly, his mouth begins to lift.
“Hey, you,” he says lightly, sweetly. “I heard you’re not feeling well.”
“Ah, I’m fine. Seb’s just overreacting.”
Sebastian narrows his eyes at you in a glare.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” he scolds.
“I’ve rested enough,” you shoo with a hand.
“Ten minutes isn’t long enou—”
“Seb, do you mind attending to the customers behind Wonwoo?” you interject.
Sebastian eyes you before grumbling under his breath—something about you being stubborn—then greets the next customer.
You move down the counter to an empty space.
“What can I get you?” you ask Wonwoo.
He shakes his head. “Actually, I just wanted to talk today, if that’s okay. I won’t be long.”
You want to say he can take as much time as he wants, but you hold back.
Concern creeps from the shadows around you.
Is he going to tell you he’s leaving forever? Does he not like your drinks anymore? Did he find somewhere better? Someone better?
“O-Oh, yeah, okay,” you mumble and maneuver around the counter.
You lead Wonwoo to his usual corner, next to the window and the bookshelves. It’s a little quieter here.
You both take a seat from across each other.
You fidget in your seat, nerves making you angsty.
“Are you sure you feel okay?” he asks.
“Just tired, nothing to be worried about,” you smile.
Something in your chest warms at knowing he cares about your well-being.
“Hm. Alright,” he replies a little skeptically.
“Is everything okay with you?” You try to change the subject. “You didn’t come in yesterday.”
Your voice trails off, not wanting to show how concerned you were about his absence. However, Wonwoo can sense it regardless.
He smiles, though the small lift at the corner of his mouth tells you he’s amused with your attempt to hide your worry.
“Did you miss me?” he wonders.
Your eyes widen a bit. “I—Well. I just noticed you didn’t come because you always come, you know?”
He nods with a subtle smirk still on his lips, yet it fades after a few seconds.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come,” he apologizes sincerely. “One of my friends was in the hospital.”
Your heart drops and guilt kicks in. It’s not that you didn’t consider the possibility, but you had been more focused on him not liking you or the café.
“Goodness, I’m sorry to hear that. Are they okay?” you ask, frowning.
“He had to get surgery, but he’s fine. Just a little grumpy and whiny,” he chuckles.
You feel better hearing his small laughter.
“That’s better than being in pain, I guess,” you reply.
“Yes,” he concurs. He waits for a beat then continues, “I wanted to ask you a question.”
You tilt your head. 
A question. That sounds better than some statement about not seeing you again.
“Okay,” you say.
“When we last spoke, it was about you not having enough time for stuff outside of work,” he begins.
You nod to show you’re following but don’t cut in.
“Well, there’s this small event tomorrow. It’s nothing fancy, just some walking around. I wanted to know if you’d like to go with me?”
Your heart races as he speaks. You’re stumped for words. It’s as if you’ve subconsciously been waiting for this, but now that the time has come, you’re too nervous to answer.
“You can decline,” Wonwoo assures.
Although you’re anxious about the idea of meeting outside of the café, you don’t want to miss the opportunity.
“N-No! I mean, no, I don’t want to decline. What time? Where?” you hurriedly say before he can take back his offer.
He grins and holds out a small piece of paper.
You take it, turning it over to see scribbled numbers. You guess it’s his phone number.
“I can pick you up after work. You close early tomorrow, right?” he asks.
You nod, trying to hide your smile at him remembering your café hours. Though, since he visits frequently, you guess it shouldn’t be that surprising.
“Dress warm, okay?” he adds.
“Okay.”
Wonwoo stands from his seat, and you follow.
“Get some more rest tonight, Yn,” he says softly.
“Y-Yeah. I will,” you reply.
Although you’re no longer fretting over reasons for his no-show yesterday, you’ll be worrying about tomorrow now. Still, you’ll try to sleep—maybe even drink some tea or warm milk. You’ll try for him.
Sunday
Wonwoo comes to the café a few minutes before you close. He’s dressed in a fluffy hoodie layered with a light brown trench coat. He looks so…soft and warm.
Before you depart, you make a drink for each of you. He tries to pay but you profusely veto his offer.
The ride to the event is quiet except for the random music being played from his stereo. You’re unsure how long the ride is, but you don’t care. Even if you’re not speaking, it’s nice being with him in a new environment. It’s nice to see a different side of Wonwoo. And part of you hopes he likes seeing a different side of you too.
The event is free, but since donations are strongly encouraged, you and Wonwoo slip a few bills into the plastic reindeer before stepping onto the lit-up walkway.
People of all ages are enjoying the event. The walkway is wide enough to accommodate a couple of people at a time, but it’s still crowded. It forces you and Wonwoo to bump shoulders several times, and each time, you both apologize.
You notice a few minutes into the walk that he seems tenser than usual. You’re not sure of the reason, and he doesn’t seem inclined to disclose the answer.
You try to distract him by pointing out different features—from big blown-up Santas to mechanical reindeer moving up and down. However, it doesn’t seem too effective.
Wonwoo’s steps eventually begin to slow. He never comes to a complete stop, but with his slow speed, a lot of people pass by. Eventually, there’s a gap in the crowd and his body relaxes.
He must not be a fan of crowds.
“Can we sit for a bit?” you ask, not really needing to rest but there are picnic tables with fake candles on them nearby that are less crowded.
“Sure,” he says.
You guide him to an empty table and sit across from each other.
“Thank you for taking me here,” you smile while glancing around. “It’s so pretty.”
The area is filled with multitudes of holiday decor. There are so many lights strung that you don’t need streetlamps to see. It’s rather magical to see it all. It’s a shame you can’t see this all year round. But then again, it might lose its effect if you see it constantly.
“I’m glad you like it,” he replies.
His eyes drop to your hands clasped on the table. There’s a slight shiver in them.
Suddenly, his hands are covering yours—warmth instantly shooting up your arms from his touch. He says nothing as he rubs his thumbs along your cool skin.
You want to say something; however, it doesn’t feel like you have to, so you just stare at him, a small smile on your face while you bask in the warmth he’s providing.
“How does it feel?” he questions after a few minutes.
You open your mouth to say “good” and to thank him for taking away your coldness, but before you can, he speaks again.
“Getting out, I mean. How does it feel to get out of the café?”
“Oh.” Your face heats rapidly. Thank goodness for your slow reaction. “It’s refreshing.”
Wonwoo hums, nodding.
“Should we walk around again, or should we go? I don’t want you catching a cold,” he says.
“I’d like to see more if that’s okay,” you admit.
“It’s more than okay,” he reassures.
He starts to stand, but you grip his hands to stop him. He stares down at you bemused.
“I have something for you,” you explain.
He sits back down, hands leaving yours when you pull away to retrieve something from your bag.
It’s a small black box with a purple bow on it, albeit the decor is a little squished from being confined to your small bag.
“What’s this?” he asks and carefully brings the box nearby.
“Since you gave me a gift this week,” you say, referring to his tip on Monday, “I got you one as well.”
“You didn’t—”
“Need to? I know. But, I wanted to. And I worked hard on it, so accept it, please?” you say lightly so as to not sound too serious. 
He smiles and nods, lifting the lid.
Inside is the bookmark you made him. On the bookmark’s center is a cat with a game controller. It’s simple, but that’s the best you could do with your lack of drawing skills. Attached to the bookmark is a purple tassel.
“You made this?” Wonwoo asks in amazement.
“I’ll only admit to that if you like it,” you say out of nervousness.
Wonwoo laughs and glances at you. “I like it a lot.”
“Then yes, I made it.”
His gaze shifts to the item again, examining it closely for a bit. Then, he sets it back carefully in the box and puts it in his pocket.
“Thank you,” he says earnestly.
“Of course,” you smile.
You and Wonwoo walk around for twenty more minutes before you call it a night. Throughout the entire walk, he held your hand in his free pocket. The warmth from his body combined with his sheltered pocket made your hand clammy. You felt embarrassed at the fact, but Wonwoo refused to release his hold. Truthfully, you didn’t want to let go, but you also didn’t want him to be disgusted at the feeling.
Wonwoo drove you back to your café where your car was.
You tried to demand he stay in your car since he parked next to yours, but he still climbed out.
You stare at his eyes which are framed by his glasses; his cheeks are slightly rosy from the temperature. His dark hair dances softly in the wind. He looks so handsome.
Wonwoo leans forward and connects his lips ever so softly against your cheek. You have the urge to turn your face and capture his lips with yours, but you don’t.
There’s something romantic about going slow.
Wonwoo pulls back with a kind smile.
“You look beautiful tonight, Yn,” he whispers, breath ghosting your face.
You can’t stop the smile forming on your face even if you tried.
“And you look handsome,” you reply.
Wonwoo mirrors your grin.
“Get home safely, alright?” he instructs.
You nod. “You too.”
You unlock your car and climb inside.
Wonwoo lingers outside, watching with his hands in his pockets.
After starting your car and rolling down your window, you lean out and prop your head on your arm that’s resting on the edge.
He bends slightly to see you better, a small grin on his mouth. His face isn’t too close, but it’s closer than it should be for an average person. But, Wonwoo isn’t average.
He’s quiet for a while, and you take the time to observe his features again. Your heart is thumping loudly in your ears. The desire to kiss him resurfaces.
Maybe you’re starting to like Wonwoo. Not just because he’s attractive, kind, funny, and caring, but because he’s Wonwoo.
Wonwoo, who’s been a frequent customer at your café for months.
Wonwoo, who’s always been supportive and kind.
Wonwoo, who’s slowly capturing your heart.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks with a smile still on his face.
“Yeah,” you say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Because of Wonwoo, you’re always looking forward to the next day.
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cursedzucchini · 1 year
Text
You know what? Fuck it
DC x DP prompt #3
I think at least lmao.
Anyway! Jason starts making videos on YouTube for one reason or another (is really stressed, no one listens to his rants Abt books who cares). His content is mostly bad books he read or really really really long rants Abt pride and prejudice. Like 3 hours on one tiny detail he noticed on his 214th read through.
He's kinda popular, mostly bc his terrible books videos. He talks Abt the ones that made him the most mad, which coincidentally are mostly romance and supernatural. Like he's one of the well known figures in the supernatural romance critique group (whcih is pretty small, but well). (Also he doesn't show his face on camera, bc secret identity and stuff, it's just his voice over a video of something mundane, like the sky or a room in which is a fly or something)
And now this can go two ways, that i can think of (w dead on main in mind at least)
1) one day Jason finds a book which is supernatural romance and is actually good. It has a kidna cliche system for the supernatural stuff, but with a refreshing twist. The characters have depts and flaws, yet are still very likable. The plot is actually interesting and overall the story's theme is death, not belonging anywhere and overall stuff that is very close to Jason's heart. The story doesn't shy away from violence and it is suprisingly accurate.
(I'm.gonna reblog this w pretty long idea of what this book could be Abt, bc i don't wanna annoy ppl lol)
Anyway Jason kinda falls in love w it, and it becomes famous for being the first novel Jason rated positively or something.
Meanwhile Danny, who was told by jazz writing is good way to get his feeling out, and just wanted to make a quick buck, is really fucking confused how tf did his book become so popular and who tf is this nerd who rates books for a living.
(basically big fan Jason and suspicious/awkward Danny lmao)
2) there is a famous series on Jason profile. It's the worst fucking series he ever read and it's just fucking awful. All the characters are fucking terrible, always going on and on about one thing, the romance sucks in a way that isnt even funny. Jason would love to believe some wrote this as a joke, if it wasn't for the absolute cringefest this was, and it wasn't a whole ass series!! Like who writes 12 books for a joke?
Danny ducking Fenton that's who. Dude was so ducking annoyed at his rogues, he threatened them w writing a terrible romance novels abt them. The ghosts, knowing his terrible grade in literature backed off for a moment, before someone crossed the line. And write Danny did. It was the worst thing he had ever written, the love interest was perfect caricature yet still faithfully go the original. And Danny, because fuck them he lost sommuch sleep over that one prank, decided to publish it. (The book was pretty thin so it didn't take that much time writing it). Unfortunately it became immensely popular in the infinite realm. So the ghosts started crossing lines on purpose. Before Danny figured it out, he had already published his fifth book and was writing another three. After some bargaining, getting a book written Abt them as a piece of shit love interest became a reward.
And while yeah, he had to say his writing was terrible and the books sucked, some small part of him was kinda proud y'know? Like a mother of her twelve ugly as fuck toddlers.
So when he saw some nerd on the internet not only shit talk his book, but also get money of it?
Danny decided to haunt him (just like his books did him, now that everyone knew Abt them thanks to this guy)
(enemies (sorta it's not that serious tho) to lovers ala terrible writer Danny who hates his books and kinda famous YouTuber hasn't who also hates Danny's books)
--
Fuck this is way too long wtf. Anyway imma reblog this w 1) book idea. Might add whatever i think the twelve books could be Abt. Pls if u want to add anything to this pls do!!
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ineffable-endearments · 7 months
Text
When you (generic, universal) talk about theories about the end of Season 2 and Aziraphale going to Heaven, you often run up against either:
taking everything at face value to the point of ignoring that some details contradict one another
or
accidentally nullifying major emotional, plot, and character beats by implying that they Didn't Really Happen.
A lot of the differences in analyses, especially ones that I like (LOL), can be explained by the fact that we're analyzing a character who is experiencing massive cognitive dissonance and believes a number of contradictory things at once.
Nobody is wrong to point out Aziraphale's need to Belong to a Good Cause, which makes his acceptance of the Supreme Archangel position entirely in-character; nobody is wrong to point out Aziraphale's anxiety around the Metatron, which indicates that he may have been coerced.
Did Aziraphale go back to Heaven because he's afraid of what will happen if he keeps refusing, or because the Metatron made an implicit threat? Did he go back to Heaven because he's vulnerable to flattery and wants to feel important? Did he go back to Heaven because he thought it would be a way to be permanently safe with Crowley? Or did he go back because he missed belonging to something Good, something bigger than himself? All of the above. It's all of them.
Yes, even though it's incredibly dissonant to believe a system that he KNOWS is dangerous and coercive can accomplish true Goodness, that is in fact his belief.
Admittedly, this is no one I follow - just random comments I see around from people I don't know very well - but it seems like some people out there are assuming Aziraphale can't possibly be making any plans to do anything remotely intelligent, because this would mean that he is already aware that Heaven is bad and would therefore leave no room for character growth.
Except no, that's not necessarily what it means. In fact, the cognitive dissonance is the main thing he is going to have to resolve. Having that dissonance - the belief that Heaven's ideals are genuine, along with the understanding that Heaven is dangerous and needs to be carefully manipulated - is what will move his plot forward. Mindless obedience wouldn't progress his story any more than magic brainwashing coffee would, and it would be equally inconsistent with his story and motivations so far.
The dissonance is the point. And part of the dissonance is that he already knows Heaven is dangerous - he just hasn't accepted what that means yet. It would make sense for him to simultaneously try to work within Heaven's system and watch his own back.
Also, only partly related: Neil might write a story about how the worst people exploit the need to belong and to be Good. He might write a story about how we have to become our own greater good. He might write a story about how to rebuild after you discover your greater good is not so great or good after all. He is not going to write a story about how having any faith or trust in something objectively bigger and stronger than yourself makes you a stupid clown who is wrong about literally everything and shouldn't have even tried.
Let Aziraphale fuck up. He needs to and he will. Whatever plans he was making in that elevator won't actually succeed. But give him credit where it's due.
Edited to add: And you know what? When he fucks up, he's going to get through it. And then he's going to do the right thing. And he's going to get it right when it matters the most.
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dizzycoffee · 1 month
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Can I please request Vox x Angel Female Reader where Vox is in denial of his feelings over an Angel who is really kind, soft, caring, helpful and is always mindful of others
(PS: Reader prefers cuddles, kisses, hugs, caressing Vox's screen or wrapped him in Reader's wings and not have any sex)
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— Vox / Angel!Fem!Reader; Headcanons
ACK absolutely LOVE this prompt omg !!
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・ HEADCANONS ・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
When I say you drive him insane, you absolutely drive him insane
He hardly remembers meeting you — even if he did, he's sure that would've also made him go crazy
One night he was completely fine, the next he found himself in bed, heart pounding in a way he hadn't felt in a long time
What mainly drives his denial is the simple fact that you're an angel
He shouldn't be feeling this way over someone who can kill him (whether you're an exorcist angel or not)
Even if he did want to indulge, he himself was an Overlord of Hell, one with great power, far from any sort of redemption or anything alike. He felt like he was the last to deserve a literal angel to be by his side
"That damn bitch—" he grunted out, buffering a bit as he gripped the door of his bedroom for a sense of support. His other hand came to grip his chest, feeling the way his heart went rampant. Your giggles and laughs, the way your feathers felt underneath his touch... you. It made him go dizzy, a craving feeling bubbling deep within him. Why the fuck does he feel this way?
At first, he thought he was just horny. That had to be it, right? Just had to have you for a moment and let it leave his system
The next time you came over to see him, he tried to initiate something, but you almost immediately shut that down
You didn't outright say "ew, sex" nor did you push him away. When he grabbed your waist, you let him pull you close. You could see right through his actions, and he knew that
Yet all you did was let your hands caress the edges of his screen, wings fluttering around him and securing him in your embrace
Feeling you so close without an ounce of sexual tension made his heart ache in both guilt and love
How dare he try to corrupt you in that sort of way? You're an angel. You're nothing like him or anyone here in Hell for that matter. You don't belong here, just like he doesn't belong in your arms
I swear this man has an inferiority complex and you can't tell me otherwise LOL
He'll continue to deny his feelings for a long time
While he does begin to indulge in your presence, the two of you even going as far as sharing kisses and cuddles, it will take a while before he decides to put a label on your relationship
The feeling of not being good enough for you will remain for a while too. He feels that one day you'll move on to the next demon to warm their heart and leave him
You always reassure him, always kiss him and tell him "it's okay to love" and that he "deserves to be loved"
Your eyes watched over his slightly drowsy figure. Vox laid in bed, body facing you as his arms were secured around you. His eyes were shut, a soft vibration emitting from him. A gently smile plagued his lips. You couldn't help smiling yourself, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips.
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kaixserzz · 7 months
Text
The Fox, the Crow, and the Bunny.
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ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore and Gn!Child!Reader *ೃ༄
ੈ♡˳ 2.4k words ┊ Fluff *ೃ༄
ੈ♡˳ Masterlist | JLM Masterlist *ೃ༄
author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
something sweet. dedicated to @idyllic-affections thanks for writing my kaveh rq n this series is inspired by ur acc.. realized i strayed from the real purpose of this fic and made it too long, so just think of it as a 2 in 1 special lol,, (also hi sorry for using dottore he's like my muse and i love writing him) also i hope yall get the meaning of this shit lmao (ref to the scara quest tale)
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: strictly platonic/familial, reader is 8 years old, basic dottore warnings, mentions of death, dissecting animals and injuries, implied dottolone (barely), a little ooc but it's canon to me
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Dottore's office was once a sacred chamber inside the Fatui headquarters.
While not relatively as pristine as his laboratory, amidst the chaos, there was order. Everything was in its designated place, even though his desk was a nightmare to whoever laid eyes on it (spilled coffee too busy to clean, now dried onto the wood of his table, piles, and piles of documents and papers stacked haphazardly on one another, a disarray of pens and pencils occupying every available niche, and vials filled with who-knows-what dangerously teetering on the edge).
Hazards lurked at every turn within his office, presenting a far-from-presentable façade that seemingly clashed with his position as the 2nd of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. Yet, one might ponder, does the doctor truly concern himself with such matters?
No, not at all. He doesn't have the time to clean everything or keep them in such an organized state. He simply knows everything is in place, and the mess scarcely holds him back (he hires maids once in a while, when the mess gets too much, and in 1 out of 5 maids he hires only makes it out alive).
Yet, what truly imbued this room with a sense of sanctity? For within these walls, he unearthed his genuine solace and tranquility.
In this space, silence reigned supreme. Isolation was his companion, a cherished serenity he embraced. Here, his thoughts danced, inventions took form, and ideas flowed onto paper alongside intricate equations. Occasionally, he'd pass out on his desk and drool all over his papers. This room stood as a shelter inviolable, reserved solely for those few instances of urgency or the presence of a fellow Harbinger.
All other members of the Fatui instinctively bid their time, patiently awaiting his emergence from the sanctum of his office before venturing to approach him. For within its confines, the Doctor was impervious to disruption. No one disturbs the Doctor.
That was before you came along, of course.
The office, ill-suited for a child of your tender years, harbored a minefield of hazards. Within its walls lay various artifacts, concoctions, and intricate machinery, a perilous realm unfit for the innocent curiosity of youth. Regrettably, your presence inadvertently disrupted the serene harmony that had long enveloped this space, unsettling the Doctor who, by nature, dislikes abrupt shifts and deviations from what he was used to.
When you first arrived in his office (he didn't want you inside of it, after all, he wasn't exactly fond of children, but he had no choice) you were immediately injured after stepping onto a shard of glass that Dottore has completely ignored. You tried your very best not to cry for the sake of not irritating Dottore further, but he wasn't very gentle with your wound either.
He took note of keeping his vials away from the edge of his table.
Then a bunch of books topples over you. He puts them into the shelves now, and you helped him organize by using the Dewey Decimal System, to which you had read from a book.
Then, while he was explaining his recent idea (rather enthusiastically) to you, his hand accidentally slammed against his files and flew straight to your face. You also helped him organize his papers.
And then it was cleaning his desk, offering him DIY pencil holders you've made just for him. You've also invented a mug that prevents the liquid inside from spilling (he thinks it was a rather brilliant invention, he no longer has to worry about spilling on his desk).
And then it was putting his rather precarious possessions somewhere else, outside the vicinity of his office and far away from your grasp.
You were very eager to help him in any way possible, and for a child, you quite enjoyed receiving chores. Yet, your contentment was uncomplicated, drawn from the privilege of being granted entry to his treasure trove of knowledge, replete with a limitless collection of books, materials, and tools.
Dottore always thought that you'd be such a nuisance to him once you entered his office and sully the peace he has always known within his office's enclosed haven.
But he didn't expect to welcome your presence at all, on such short notice, too. (Deep inside, he felt a strange warmth in his chest whenever you'd tug on his coat, asking if he needed any assistance with organizing his office. He wonders what it was, though.)
So, here you were, amidst the symphony of pen strokes etching against paper, a solitary melody resonating within the confines of his office.
Contrary to his expectations, the calmness he believed would dissipate upon your arrival had, in fact, been amplified by leaps and bounds. As he observed from the corner of his eye, you reclined on your stomach, legs swinging idly behind you, immersed in a world of creativity. Strewn across the floor, an assortment of crayons bore testament to your artistic endeavors, while he diligently attended to the papers handed by the Fatui.
Then, as if hesitant to break the comfortable silence, you tried to catch his attention with a soft 'psst!', then covered your mouth with your tiny hand to suppress your childish giggles.
The corners of his lips twitch in irritance amusement as he turns his head toward you, his pen on the desk. You broke into a much bigger grin and held your drawing close to your chest, not wanting to expose it just yet. "Hey, Dotdot!" You whispered to him, and he can't help but roll his eyes smile at the nickname you've given him. "Can I show you what I drew?"
Dottore emitted a contemplative hum as if grappling with the decision of whether to engage or remain absorbed in his thoughts. Your evident impatience manifested in a pout, prompting his response. "Well, fine," He yielded, beckoning you forth. You beamed brightly as you swiftly rose to your feet and bounded toward him, your landing generating a muted grunt from him. A steadying hand rested on the desk, enabling him to regain his composure, after which he settled your giggling form comfortably within the space between his legs. "Now then," He put his hands on your shoulder, "What is it you wished to share?"
With another giggle from your ceaseless childish amusement, you gave him the piece of paper. Big, round eyes sparkling against the light of the room looked up at him expectantly. Dottore received the drawing from you, his gaze lingering over its details, drawn into a moment of shared curiosity and wonder.
It was him, and you, holding hands, depicted with earnest effort and the imaginative touch of your youthful artistry. Around you were a bunch of other versions of him, his segments, though you've only drawn five (since they were the only ones who have interacted with you so far). Each had their names labeled beneath them, but Dottore absolutely adores that you've labeled him as 'Dotdot' instead (you've also drawn Pantalone holding your other hand and labeled him as 'Pants', adorned both figures with encircling hearts).
"Truly remarkable artwork," He stated with a smile, his words accompanied by the sound of your jubilant cheers, "This masterpiece deserves a place of honor, a spot where all can admire it. I can already imagine the joy it will bring to the other segments once they lay eyes on it."
"Really!?"
"Of course, I do believe they enjoy your company, little bunny."
As he carefully set the drawing on his table, your inquisitive gaze caught his attention. With a tilt of your head, a gesture he knew all too well, you asked him a question, "Why do you call me that?"
"Hm? Call you what?" Dottore grabbed you gently and settled you onto his desk. Positioned face to face, at eye level, his intent was clear—to engage with you as both an adult and a child, a balance you seemed to relish.
"Bunny! You call me bunny lots,"
"Oh? Do you not like it?"
You vigorously shook your head, "No no, I love it! I get called nicknames, but they're all mean." You furrow your brow as you reminisced, pouting at the awful memories. But then you broke into a big smile again, "But yours is new and cute! So, why do you call me that?"
Dottore's grin widened, revealing his sharp teeth, a sight that enthralled you. Your hands instinctively moved to his cheeks, your eyes filled with wonder, and he welcomed the touch wholeheartedly. "Ahh, ever so curious, aren't you, little bun?" He teased playfully, giving your nose a gentle boop! with his finger, and your giggles were a delightful response. "You see, I call you bunny because you embody its spirit—small, swift, and an endless source of vibrant energy.
You also love to hop onto people a lot."
"I love giving surprise hugs! I'm too small, so a jump, so I can wrap my arms around them a bit higher!" You huffed as he chuckled at your explanation. "What are you, then? What animal?"
"Oh? I've never thought about what kind of animal I'd be... Hmmm..." Dottore mused for a while, his expression thoughtful. Eventually, he arrived at a decision. "A fox, I think. Crafty, shrewd, and sly. A creature that prowls with a purpose and possesses those distinct, sharp teeth." As he said that, he grins once more to show his sharp teeth, then lunges for your finger, mimicking a bite, prompting you to gasp and pull back with a joyful squeal.
"And speaking of bunnies..." His tone took on a mischievous edge, causing your eyes to widen in anticipation. Suddenly, he swooped in, grabbing your legs and lifting you high into the air. "I might just gobble you up!" Dottore's playful pretense of chomping down on you elicited a cascade of laughter from you. You pushed at his head, trying to escape his 'gobbling' jaws, your legs kicking playfully as you enjoyed the moment.
"I don't think you're a fox, Dotdot!" You quipped, retaking your seat on his desk. Playfully swinging your legs, you mused aloud, a soft humming accompanying your contemplation.
Dottore raised an intrigued eyebrow, "Oh? And what am I in the eyes of my little bunny? Perhaps something more fearsome?" He inquired, looming over you in an effort to intimidate you.
Instead, your eyes lit up brightly, and you joyfully clapped your hands together. "Oh, I've got it! A crow!" You exclaimed with a triumphant smile.
A bemused frown replaced his grin as he processed your unexpected response. "...A crow?" He echoed, clearly puzzled by your choice. "Of all animals?"
And you merely smile at him, giggling at his confused reaction, "Mhm! Yeah! A crow that talks on and on and on." Your hands followed your words, almost hitting him in the face, "A crow that is death and prey over rotting corpses, but a crow that saved me! I thought Dotdot was an angel, but angels don't have black feathers, scary smiles, or red eyes."
Your words painted a vivid picture of your perception, a whimsical and deeply personal perspective on his nature. Dottore nods along, intrigued, as you rambled your thoughts to him, not even chastising you for grabbing the beak of his mask and playing with it.
"You're a crow! You're very smart, and clever, and creative! You're scary to other people, but not to me! I love corvids, I used to feed them bits of animal after I dissect them, and they always bring me something shiny. They were my only friends, and now you're my friend too!"
He doesn't understand the gentle warmth that began to unfurl within his chest as he remained attentive to your words. While unfamiliar, this sensation wasn't entirely unwelcome... "I beg to differ, my dear bunny. I am unmistakably a fox,"
"Then you're a crow pretending to be a fox!" You pout, stubbornly crossing your arms. "I think crows are way cooler than foxes. They can fly! Plus, you can't call yourself a fox when you resemble a crow more than a fox!" You pointed out, a triumphant smirk on your lips.
Well, you do have a point. He does wear a beaked mask, coupled with a bird-like shoulder embellishment bedecked in exquisite black feathers.
"Should I then consider donning attire that better befits a fox?"
At the notion, you fixed him with a mock glare, your cheeks puffing out in an adorable display of discontent. "Nooooo! I prefer Mr. Crow!" you protested with a playful whine, punctuating your words by delivering gentle punches to his shoulders with your tiny hands.
He chuckles at your small tantrum, and he swiftly gathers you into his embrace. Your arms naturally encircled his neck as he rose from his seat, carrying you toward the door, your precious drawing clutched in your hands. "Very well, very well, my dear Mr. Crow it shall remain," He conceded with a playful tone, his steps filled with an easy camaraderie.
Victoriously, you shot him a smug grin, to which he rolled his eyes at.
"Do you wanna know something, Mr. Crow?" You mutter in his ear as he walks past one of his segments.
"Hm? What is it?"
You made sure to whisper it very quietly, hoping the other segments won't hear you. "Between you and me, I think that your younger segments are like rats!"
He didn't know what came over him, he released a hearty, resounding laugh, its volume surprising not just you but also the other segments who happened to be present, each momentarily taken aback by their own affairs. Such an outpouring of mirth was rare for him (only when he was inside his dark, cool lab, alone with experiments).
A sense of pride swelled in your chest as you grinned widely, his laughter infectious as you burst into a fit of giggles. It was a scary laugh, maybe it was just naturally like that, but to you, it sounded very happy. "They bit me once! I was just poking their face."
"Perhaps give them a treat before you approach them," He says, calming down as he continues his trek toward your room. "This gesture might just soften their demeanor."
"What, like cheese?"
"Oh, little bun, that'll drive them even more mad once they found out you called them rats."
You share another grin with him, finding a cozy spot to rest your chin upon his shoulder in contentment, "Good! I think they're funny when their faces turn red."
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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I’ll appreciate it very very much! Don’t repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
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mueritos · 1 month
Text
i hope we continue to see more protests within the US military. i see a lot of leftists and folks who are anti-military who have such an open disdain for the people who are in the military, yet neglect to considering the conditions this country makes to produce ideology, poverty, and the illusion of choice to make all kinds of people choose to enlist in the military. You ever see those videos of ROTC kids recording each other asking why they joined the military and everyone's like, "healthcare", "it helped me go to college", "I was bored" or "free ptsd lol". I hate to remind everyone but folks who are in the military are people, too, and they are the same victims and perpetrators of violence as the rest of you, we have all been shallowly conditioned to view each other as enemies just because one person is wearing army greens and the other is not.
some of the biggest anti-war advocates are those who engaged in war. Veterans who genuinely believed they were protecting the US against "terrorism" come back with blood on their hands, and they choose to realize that it was US imperialism that forced them to carry out violence, instead of doubling down and shielding themselves from the fact that they too are capable of atrocities... This is a class of people who are intentionally conditioned to be as poor and as ideologically aligned to US imperialism so that the military has a never-ending pool to send their youth to destroy other country's youth. The only people I have ever heard say "do not join the military" are those who ARE military.
This is in no way to ever excuse or explain away any of the atrocious war crimes and violence this industry and its people have committed against others. What I am saying is that we absolutely cannot cast aside the individuals who have been victimized within US imperialism, even if they are wearing army greens. I was speaking with my Palestinian classmate last week and another classmate--a member of the US air force-- walked up to me and struck up a conversation. My military classmate showed me her new bird, bid both of us goodbye, and left. My Palestinian classmate asked me if I was close with her, and I said we talked quite often, and she said, "I never met a person who's in the military. I still hate the military, but I never knew that they did, too. I didn't realize that they were also victims."
If my Palestinian classmate--one who is actively watching her own community die--can understand that it is not individuals who are the problem but it is in fact systems, US imperialism, white supremacy, capitalism...why can't we all? And she has EVERY reason to hate any individual military member. A lot of online activism just creates more barriers. if your optics look bad, complicated, or contradictory, you are cast aside. Everyone has got the be the perfect activist, you can never make a mistake or share a half-baked thought, you should always believe every word from a marginalized persons mouth (because being marginalized doesn't mean you're not entrenched in white supremacy too!) and you should never question what you see...Do you know what you sound like? The very imperialists who are convincing poor whites to vote against themselves. Perfectionism is white supremacy. Black & white thinking is white supremacy.
I'd rather have a military member who genuinely believed in the US imperialism machine but was disillusioned after being deployed as my comrade than some leftist who cherishes the performance of "being a good person". I don't want "good people" in our movements. I want humans who care. I want humans who make mistakes and who learn from them. I want humans who accept the messiness of a person. I want humans who hold others accountable and allow themselves to take responsibility for their actions. I want people who change for themselves and others.
fight systems, not individual people. we can change each other, but if we're too preoccupied looking like the World's Perfect Activists, we will only consume each other alive. Connect to your fellow humans, forever and always.
#muertotalks#a mind dump after seeing so much come out after the self immolation of the us air force member#i know hes not the first one to self immolate for palestine#and he might not be the last#i hate the military#i really fucking do#but i choose to see the people within them as victims within the overall system just like the rest of us#i will never go through what they did to make them choose to enlist#i never struggled with poverty homelessness healthcare or social acceptance#i wont shame them#shame is not productive#i want them to know there are civilians who support their protests#i want them to know that we their allies too#a note on my palestinian classmate#if youre arab or also a colonized person impacted by the us military feel free to hate every member of the military#i dont intend to police yall in how you choose to feel your anger#im angry with you#the point i mean to make is about understanding and compassion#someone who has every right to hate these people still chose to see them as the people they are#yes i even want the best for the “bad” people in the military too#i dont want these people to continue the ideology but we cant stop that without dismantling these systems#and we cant do that without creating spaces for healing and reform and growth#so many thoughts so many thoughts#none of this is easy#i fight daily against impulsively hating the world#everyday is a fight to choose compassion and understanding#but being a leftist and doing leftism is not fucking easy#if you genuinely think it is it isnt#and you may be missing the point of what leftism is#anyway
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hotpinkboots · 1 year
Note
How would the scp crew react to their lover being flirted with by a co-worker? Specifically one who’s getting a little too handsy and won’t leave them alone -💗
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~𝕾𝕮𝕻's Reacting To Their Darling Being Hit On~
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HI DARLING :D I decided to do 049, 035, and 079 because Mr. Computery Guy doesn't get enough love in this fandom!
~Enjoy~
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★★★★
𝕾𝕮𝕻 049
★★★★
~049 is very observant, so he will notice almost immediately.
~He won't really be jealous of the situation you're in, because he knows you're loyal to him.
~...Loyal to him. Something that's...classified as a dangerous monster. Kept in a facility. Who just sits there and researches things all day. Who cannot take you on dates. Who cannot buy you anything nice.
~...Yeah he's more insecure than he thought. But he won't admit that, or show it, of course, because he likes to keep himself and everything he does and thinks professional.
~Won't let his emotions get in the way. He looks at things how they are, not how they seem- so when he spots the grossed out or uncomfortable expression on your face while another Doctor is practically on you, and sees you trying to make an excuse to leave the room, he's relieved that you don't like the attention, and is disgusted with this man.
~Now that he knows you aren't into that and that you still love him, he isn't insecure anymore, and will stand up for you, instead.
~Next time they've decided to interview or test on him, 049 will slowly turn his head to look at the perverted person who had been touching you and flirting with you for a long time.
~"Your actions towards your fellow colleagues are unprofessional."
~"Fellow colleagues" meaning you, without directly mentioning you.
~So basically he just calls him out LOL. 049 won't be able to stop the situation all together, so he's trying to set it up for you to stand up for yourself so this doesn't happen anymore.
~"Do not touch what belongs to me."
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★★★★
𝕾𝕮𝕻 035
★★★★
~IS NOT HAVING IT
~IS ABSOLUTELY NOT HAVING IT
~This man will start crying so dramatically to get everyone's attention and when he has it he'll warn whoever tf is touching you to knock it off
~If that dude doesn't stop he's gonna end up dead
~Like. 035 is wondering how on Earth such a fool got the job to work here. He shouldn't even have to worry about this, because this pervert should just be automatically fired when spotted trying to flirt and get handsy.
~But now he's gonna have to do the job instead and get rid of him because he's being unprofessional and touching his beloved.
~Will end up messing with the doctor physiologically to probably get him to commit suicide or to simply just scare the crap out of him.
~And he's so proud of himself thinking he saved the day 🤡
~Then 035 asks when the paycheck comes in for doing his job
~Yeah he's got it covered dw.
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★★★★
𝕾𝕮𝕻 079
★★★★
~He is so salty. Like wow he's a total ass.
~When he first is able to spot the situation and he hears the person being gross with you,
~079 straight up just said "Shut up."
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~Can't do much other than roast the person and be really rude and salty with him.
~Asks you why you haven't stood up for yourself yet. And if you have done it already you clearly didn't get the point across because it's still happening.
~Is just as annoyed at you as he is with the pervert for letting this go on. Like do something about it what are you doing don't let him get away with that.
~Has tried hacking into the system to cause a breach so hopefully someone kills him.
~But then realized that would effect you, too.
~So he's out of ideas.
~But he's never out of insults and rude words.
~So 079 can keep making offensive comments. If he can't do anything to stop it, he can at least be a jerk to the guy.
~~~~~~~~~~
THIS WAS FUN THANK YOUUU I LOVED WRITING THIS LOL
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Here are the request guidelines!
Here's a list of the Masterlists!
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Discord Server! Here you can roleplay with and as your favorite characters, get updates on my fanfiction, and get sneak peaks for my upcoming videogames!:
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~Love, PinkBoots
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writeroutoftime · 10 months
Text
you found me
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(neither gifs are my own)
pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader
summary: as the multiverse is in peril, peter promises he will find you after strange's spell is cast. but how can peter remind you of who you are and what you mean to him?
warnings: angst but then fluff!
words: 1.4k
a/n: so, I just rewatched no way home and had this idea, which was so much fun to write! also, I just couldn't help but imagine the whole "I will always find you" line from the show once upon a time. that was my middle/early high school obsession lol. anyways, enjoy and please let me know what you think!
oOoOo
The wind whipped around him, and the adrenaline pumped through his system at rapid speed. Peter knew he had only minutes, but he couldn't help but take in the sight of Ned, MJ and - most importantly - you one last time.
"Listen, you're all about to forget who I am." Peter spoke. "Strange agreed to cast this spell to end all of this."
"What? No!" Ned and MJ shouted as you simply stared at Peter with tears in your eyes.
If the entire multiverse wasn't on the line, Peter would have broken at the look you gave him. But this was for the people he loved, for you. He had to make this sacrifice to keep everyone safe.
"But you'll find us." you finally spoke up, voice shaky yet confident. "You're going to find me, and then we'll figure it out. Together."
Peter couldn't help but smile. Even with all that had happened, you still had immense faith in him. He swore to himself he would find the three of you and make it all right again.
"Yes, I'll find you." he vowed, taking you in his arms. "I got you to fall for me once, I can do it again." he chuckled, pressing his forehead against yours one last time.
You revealed in the gesture, unbothered by how selfish you were being with Peter's time. After a few moments, you pulled back and quickly worked to unclasp the necklace that sat against your neck.
Hurriedly, you passed the item into Peter's hand and shut his fingers around it. "I know you will. And then you can give me this." you told him, cupping his face and savoring one last kiss.
Peter was the first to pull away, committing the last smile you would give him as more than a stranger to memory. This would not be the last time he held you in his arms. It couldn't be.
oOoOo
Days morphed into weeks, and weeks into months. Peter was well and truly on his own in New York like he never existed in the first place. That first week he holed up in his new apartment, mourning the loss of his life - of you.
But when the self-pity subsided, Peter marched down the busy streets and checked all your frequent spots until he finally found you one day. The sun framed your figure like a spotlight, and Peter felt as though the breath had been stolen from him. It was like falling in love all over again.
Your melodic laughter rang out of the coffee shop, face scrunched up over a joke MJ shared with you and Ned. The scene tugged at his heart, and suddenly, fear washed over Peter. He looked down to his hands and gripped your necklace even tighter.
It had been a present he gifted you on your first birthday the two of you celebrated as a couple. It was a small, dainty necklace he had laughed at when he first saw it. You had found out early on that Peter Parker was Spiderman, and so the silver spider quickly became a prized possession for you. Often times it was slipped underneath your clothing to tamp down any suspicion, but it was always on you, claiming it was a good luck charm for the both of you.
Looking down at his closed fist and back up to you, Peter was suddenly seized with fear. What if you never remembered him? Or worse, what if you remembered him and didn't want to be with him anymore?
He watched you for a few more moments and saw how carefree you looked. Could he really subject you to all the chaos and danger his life entailed all over again? He vowed he would find you and make you remember, but he had also promised himself to also protect you. Maybe this was how that happened.
Without another glance, Peter turned on his heel and dashed out the door. Clueless to the fact that you caught a fleeting glimpse of him as he ran away, curious and left with an empty feel afterwards.
Over the next three weeks, Peter continued to see you from afar at the coffee shop you frequented. Each time, he ached to be near you, but held back from approaching. He just had to know you were okay, remind himself that he was making the right choice.
What Peter hadn't taken into account was the chance that you would notice - and be interested in - him. It was during the fourth week that you finally approached Peter's table as he poured over his study materials, looking down at him rather nervously.
"Hi." you began softly. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I've seen you around here recently. You look so familiar. Have we met?"
Here it was, he thought as his heart beat rapidly. Peter's chance to explain everything and make you remember him. But as he opened his mouth, it seemed his mind had a different plan.
"N-no. I don't think so." he said. Your shoulders sagged at his words, sparking something within Peter. Even now, he never wanted to be the source of your disappointment. "But, uh, I'm Peter. Peter Parker." he introduced.
You offered a dazzling smile, sticking your hand out. "Hi, Peter, it's nice to meet you. I'm y/n." you introduced, taking the seat across from him.
oOoOo
Peter swore he fell for your twice as hard this time around. The two of you talked for hours that first day at the coffee house. Of course, he feigned innocence and pretended not to know the answers to all the questions he asked. But, regardless, it felt so wonderful to be near and to talk to you again.
It became a regular occurrence for the two of you to meet at the coffee shop, but your exchanges quickly expanded outside of the shop's walls. Each time he saw you, Peter tried to gauge if there was any spark to demonstrate you remembered him and your lives together, but each time he was disappointed. Never in you. In himself over the entire situation.
Soon enough, Peter had invited you over to his apartment when the weather derailed your plans of a stroll around the park. You happily accepted, wanting to know more about the man who had quickly become such an important part of your life. He led you into the studio apartment and left you to explore for a minute while he ran to grab a glass of water in the kitchen.
Glancing around Peter's apartment, you noticed how little decoration or personalization there was. No pictures on his dresser or posters on the walls, only a few post-it notes scattered here and there. The one thing that did catch your eye, however, was a flash of a silver necklace that laid delicately on the dresser.
Peter hardly seemed like the jewelry type and so you stepped forward to inspect it further. Slowly, you reached out your hand and threaded the cool metal chain between your fingers, the pendant hanging in the air. A small laugh left your lips as you noticed the necklace was of spider silhouette.
There was something that struck you about the necklace. It was so familiar, almost as if it were out of a dream. Somewhere deep inside, there was an urge to put on the necklace, but before you could, you heard Peter's footsteps behind you.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Peter." you apologized, quickly setting the necklace back where you found it. "I shouldn't have been snooping, I just couldn't help myself."
Peter stared at you, eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. "I-I, no, it's okay." he stuttered out, swallowing harshly. "Uh, it belongs to a real important person in my life." he added, lamely gesturing to the necklace.
"It's beautiful." you admitted, still unsure if Peter was angry or not.
To your surprise, Peter reached around you to pick the necklace back up. He glanced down at the jewelry, before holding it up and gestured to you. Without hesitation, you nodded and turned so that your back faced Peter.
He stepped up behind you and immediately you could feel his warm breath fan against your neck as your breath hitched. He lifted the necklace and let the chain and pendant fall against your skin before he clasped it shut. You reached down and held the spider pendant in your hand, gasping as another rush of recognition ran through you.
Turning around, you looked at Peter who snapped out of his trance zoned in on the necklace. His eyes met yours and there was something behind them you could almost put your finger on. Both of you took a step closer to each other and Peter reached out to gently cup your cheek.
"Just, trust me." he whispered, leaning towards you to mold his lips against yours.
Your eyes fluttered shut, instantly, and you leaned into Peter's chest and the warmth of his chapped lips. Your hands threaded in his hair at the nape of your neck, sighing into the kiss.
Slowly pulling away, your eyes remained closed for just a moment longer. Then, as if suddenly breathing in new life, you gasped loudly and opened your eyes. "Peter." you whispered, gripping tightly to his shirt. "You found me."
Peter made no attempt to stop the tears that fell down his cheeks as he held you close to him, pressing soft, quick kisses all over your face. "I will always find you."
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tizeline · 3 months
Note
Bro that angst potential ur separated au is keeping me up at night. You've said since Mikey would be a powerhouse due to training at such an early age, would it be safe to assume that Leo & raph are too? They've been mastering their ninpo 4 years? And if yes then dam they must be tanks. Must be a force to be reckoned with the bros and drax being all chaotic. Did they start to train so early bcuz drax only saw them as soldiers n stuff? Drax sure must've softened over the years huh guess he couldn't handle the cute lil menaces lol. Is Donnie aware of his own ninpo yet? I'm imagining him going up against the others with all his cool tech and then they whip out this anime magic ass superpower out of nowhere. Like meeting others like u after years of thinking u were the only one must be at least baffling right, now it turns out magic is real too. And he's gonna have it too(Not to mention the bro bomb waiting to drop on his head). Would his insecurities rise after witnessing all that?
Sorry I just absolutely LOVE ur au friend, i have a ton of questions but ill hold it 4 ltr. I'm really excited to see where you take it :)) -🌾
Oh man, Anon, glad to see you so excited haha!
Just a heads up, I'm still figuring out the story of the AU, so I don't know all the specifics yet, but here are some of my thoughts. And also, this became a bit of a ramble, that's what you get when you send long asks lol /lh
The way I'm thinking how Draxum is gonna be like in this AU is that he didn't view himself as the turtles' father initially, not really because he only viewed them as mere tools for him to use, he always saw them as people with induviduality. But rather, he hadn't really connected the dots that creating children + raising said children = parenthood, which led to Draxum like a year after mutating the turtles having the sudden realization one day of "OH SHIT AM I A DAD!?" and having a mini crisis because of that.
Anyway, while I don't think Draxum is the perfect dad in this AU by any means, he does genuinely care about his kids. (If Mikey managed to win Draxum over in canon after having spent a whole season fighting each other, there's no way he'd care about Mikey any less in a scenario where they've been on the same side since day one like they have in this AU.) He started training the turles from an early age and they are expected to help him with his Definitely Not Evil World Domination Plan, but they are still allowed free time and hobbies and such. And aside from some "ugh I don't wanna train right now I wanna play vidya gaemes" occasionally, the turtles never really opposed the idea of them becoming Draxums super soldiers. Kids are really easily influenced and if your parent keeps telling you that you are the heroes who are gonna save the world from evil, chances are you're gonna latch on to that narrative without question. But after meeting Donnie and April, who knows, it might be what finally starts making the other turtles question if their cause really is as just as they think :) That being said, I still have to figure out how Draxum would react exactly to his sons starting to oppose his world view.
Then their abilities! I also have to do more reasearch into exactly how the magic system works in RoTMNT cuz uhhh it's a bit unclear sometimes. Anyway, ninpo is specifically the magic used by the Hamato clan, and considering Raph, Leo and Mikey weren't raised as Hamato I don't think they would have access to that specific type of magic (though I still think they'd be be able to possibly unlock it later down the line) They would still have access to yokai magic, and of course the mystic weapons that they stole in the show would just have been given to them in AU by Draxum. And oh yeah, the brothers are powerful. To be fair, Donnie was able to keep up with Draxum pretty well in the pilot episode, so he wouldn't be COMPLETELY outmatched by his brothers. His tech is powerful enough that he'd be able to put up a decent fight even if he lacks mystic powers himself but..... three against one? Yeah, Donnie isn't winning any time soon. The biggest advantage he'd have would honestly be that his brothers wouldn't really WANT to fight him cuz they'd be all like "Long Lost Brother™??? 😭😭😭 Please come home Long Lost Brother™ we love you!!! 😭😭😭"
And I think Splinter would have kept both of their origins secret initially like he did in the show, so Donnie would't have any ninpo either, but I also think Donnie would still learn about the whole Lou Jitsu and Genetically Modified Super Soldier thing earlier than in canon. And god, yeah, learning about all of that would definietly be A Lot, which is why I still need time to figure out Donnie's exact reaction sorry Anon you're gonna have to be patient XD
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oneforthemunny · 10 months
Note
could i request some mafia!eddie pregnancy angst?
baby blues |mafia!eddie munson x pregnant!reader|
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prompt: you're pregnant. eddie's scared. he does what he always does when he's scared; he runs.
contains: mafia!eddie so mafia themes, some mentions of violence and drugs, pregnant reader, unplanned pregnancy, angst angst angst, parental fears, past trauma mentions, fluff-ish at the end (you guys know I have to make it happy or I'll throw up lol)
Eddie had always heard about time standing still, frozen in fear, the Earth unmoving and stilling all around you. He'd seen it happen to others, sometimes he was the one inflicting it. Yet somehow, he'd never experienced it. Not even when he was staring down the barrel of a gun, a bullet lodging himself in his lungs.
Not until now.
Standing in the marble bathroom, your fingers at your lips, anxiously chewing on your nails, arm wrapped around your midsection protectively.
Suddenly, Eddie felt like he was under water, ears ringing and roaring, your muffled voice that he couldn't bring himself to register the words. He felt his breath leave him, one final push of air out of his mouth, heart stilling to a stop in his chest.
The pregnancy test on the counter. Positive.
Two beady red lines that ran down the test and straight to Eddie's nervous system, shocking him back into reality. "Eddie," You sighed, heavy, a little nervous- begging. Begging him to look at you, say something, anything to you.
Eddie blinked up at you, eyes far too wide and scared. Not the usual poker face Eddie held in times of fear. Oh no, that was gone. Gone was the rationality, the stoic expression he kept for you. Eddie was scared.
"Eddie, please. I-I know it's not what we wanted," Your breath stuttered. Of course it wasn't what you wanted. Neither one of you really ever planned on kids. It wasn't in the cards with this lifestyle. More importantly, with the danger that came with this life.
"Can you... Can you say something, please?" You whimpered, your hand curling into your sweater, grabbing at the material there over your stomach.
Eddie swallowed hard, eyes flickering from the counter back to you. "I-I don't know what to say." He admitted. That was true. His mind had gone vacant with fear, his own heartbeat in his ears was deafening, making it very difficult for him to think of much of anything.
Your lip quivered, fists balling beside you. "I'm sorry..." You muttered, unsure of what else to say. "I-I don't know how this happened. I went to get my shot and I was... I was on schedule and," You stuttered, heart shattering in your own chest. "And I don't know what to do, Ed."
Eddie didn't console you. Didn't wrap you up in his arms and tell you everything would be alright. Didn't tell you he'd handle it or not to worry, that the two of you would figure it out. Not like he'd done before.
No, this time. He just stood there. Just as unsure and scared as you.
***
"Rick," Ladonna's voice carried down the hall, her heels clacking with every step behind her. "Honey, someone's here for you."
Rick huffed, pushing out from under his desk. "Don, I'm busy. Can you tell them I'm not-" Rick wasn't expecting to see Eddie there. All curly hair and wide eyes despite the heavy bags under them.
Rick flinched, looking from his wife back to Eddie. "Jesus, kid, you look like shit." He muttered, scanning his frame.
Ladonna glared at him over Eddie's shoulder, patting his back gently before excusing herself. "Did we have a meeting or something? I didn't have anything down but-"
"-I need to talk to you." Eddie said, urgent but not shrill. An eery calm that had Rick's shoulders tensing, eyes cutting around out of instinct.
"Yeah?" Rick hummed, shoving his hands in his pockets, trying to appear as cool and level headed as he could. "'bout what? What's wrong?"
"About my dad." Eddie said bluntly, eyes blinking. He looked young, like a scared teenager again.
Rick's heart lurched at the mention of Clint, mouth opening then closing. He let out a slow sigh, nodding gently. "Sure." He pushed the door to his office open, letting Eddie walk in.
Eddie didn't look around at the spacious walls or at the art lining them. No, he'd been in here too many times before, seen it before, and he was too scared to be interested. Instead, he sat on the couch, perched on the edge, hands clasped in front of him and knee bouncing.
Rick hadn't seen the kid like this in a while. Not since he first started, anxious that he'd fucked up when he'd shot someone trying to rob him. "So," Rick propped himself across from Eddie, sinking into the chair. "You want to know about your dad?"
Eddie nodded, hands pressed together in a white knuckled grasp, knee bouncing furiously, faster and faster at the mention. "Any reason why?" Rick pressed, eyes scanning over Eddie.
Eddie's breathing hitched, running a hand over his face, refusing to meet Rick's eyes. "I just... I need to know what he did." Eddie admitted with a shaky sigh.
Rick raised a brow. "You know what he did." He replied simply. "He handled the messy shit. Me and him both, actually, under David."
"No, I mean..." Eddie shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "What did he... How-How did he fuck up?" Eddie lifted his eyes, leg stilling entirely. The room was uncomfortably silent. "What did he do wrong?"
Rick leaned back, the chair groaning slightly. He watched Eddie, how he rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans, the rings on his fingers catching his eye. Specifically on his third finger, the way he twirled it around his digit with his thumb, fiddling with it anxiously.
Rick sighed heavily out his nose, nodding slowly. "So," He started, leaning forward. "Your girl's pregnant, isn't she?"
Eddie stilled, eyes widening in a dead giveaway. "How-How did you even-"
Rick shrugged, cutting him off. "Ed, you come to me, asking about your dad. You look like shit, like you're about to fucking give out on me at any moment. So either you're being haunted by Clint, or your girl is pregnant. Which is it?"
Eddie's throat bobbed, a hard swallow. "S-She just told me yesterday."
Rick's eyes bulged. "And you left?" He boomed. "Jesus Christ, kid, did you fucking tell her you were leaving?" Eddie's silence was answer enough. "For fuckssake, Ed. Your girl is pregnant and you run? What kind of bum does that?"
"I'm scared, ok!" Eddie exploded, jumping to his feet, arms out in exasperation, voice echoing off the walls. "I-I don't even know what to do, ok? I don't know why I left, I don't know why I'm here, and I don't... fuck, Rick, I don't know how to be a dad."
Rick watched him, his lips pressing together, eyes shining. He'd seen Eddie go head to head with guys double his side, not batting an eye once. He'd seen him get questioned by the feds, too calm and cool for them to crack him ever. Yet here he was, petrified, begging Rick for some sort of answers he wasn't sure he had.
"You wanna know what your dad did wrong?" Rick asked, calmly. "Clint was sloppy."
"Rick, I'm not talking about work. I mean-"
"- He was sloppy at his job, but he was sloppy as a dad, too." Rick said, jaw flexing gently. Eddie's shoulders deflated, blinking at him curiously. "You were young, and your mom... she was great, Ed. She did everything she could to keep you safe, but Clint... Clint was an alcoholic and a junkie who was too busy shoving half the stash up his nose to be a good dad or a good husband."
Eddie's heart dropped, sinking lower and lower into his chest. Rick sighed. "I know that's not what you want to hear. No kid wants to hear their dad's a piece of shit, even if you knew it. It's still shit to hear, but it's true."
"Great. Just great." Eddie threw his hands up. "I'm gonna fuck this kid up just like him and-"
"- Now, hold on." Rick stood, brow furrowed in challenge at Eddie. "When did I say that, huh? I never said that shit, kid. Don't be putting words in my mouth." The hard glare, stoic and serious flashed over Eddie's eyes for a moment before Rick continued.
"You want the truth? My honest to God opinion? Fine." Rick paused, taking a step closer to Eddie. "The fact that you're here. The fact that you're worried about becoming like your dad, worried about being a good dad, worried about keeping them both safe. That's enough to prove to me, that you're not gonna be like your dad."
Eddie hesitated, chin quivering before he clenched his teeth. "But I don't even know how to be a dad. I don't know what to do."
"No one does. Are you kiddin' me?" Rick scoffed. "You think any parent knows what the fuck they're doing? No. But they figure it out together." He glared at Eddie pointedly. "They don't fucking run. They stick around and they figure it out. Since when are you a runner, kid?"
Eddie felt his stomach twist with guilt, heart hammering at the image of you, still in bed, cheeks tear stained and shining in the low light when he slipped out late last night.
"I don't want to fuck up." Eddie whispered, shaky breaths that matched his shaking hands. "Don't want to be like my dad and ruin this kid... Ruin both their lives."
"Eddie, listen to me," Rick placed a hand on his shoulder gently. "You take care of them, you keep them safe, and you love them."
"What if I can't keep them safe?" Eddie rasped, eyes shining with fear.
"You will." Rick nodded, reassuring. "You care way too much. Clint... he got sloppy. You won't be like that."
Eddie nodded, swallowing at the thought of his mother. Rick squeezed his shoulder lightly. "You'll be a good dad, Ed. I know you will be."
"I hope you're right." Eddie said halfheartedly. "Doesn't feel like I'm off to a very good start."
Rick snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, well, good thing you got some time to prepare, huh? Got some time to make it up with your missus too. If she doesn't castrate you after this. I wouldn't blame her if she did." Rick glared at him. Eddie nodded, face falling with worry as he looked down.
Rick walked around his desk, pulling the rotary phone and sliding it over to Eddie. "Call her and let her know you're alright." Rick nodded, walking towards the door.
"Thanks, Rick." Eddie muttered, but his eyes were soft, warm and genuine. He spun the dial, fingers tapping on the desk before he turned, speaking lowly into the phone.
Rick heard the shrill from across the room, Eddie flinching at the sound of what he could only assume was his furious wife. He left the room, making his way down the hall towards the bedroom, picking up the other phone off the hook, dialing a number.
"It's me. I need fifteen guys moved down in Hawkins. Back up... Send 'em some good ones down there... Yeah, just some extra muscle..." Rick muttered lowly into the phone. He knew Eddie had it covered, sure he'd be able to keep you both safe, but extra help wouldn't hurt anyone.
***
"She's pissed, Ed." Max muttered when Eddie made his way up the stairs of sidewalk. The redhead's arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him fiercely.
"I don't blame her." Eddie sighed, looking past her into the house. "Anyone else here?"
"Jeff. He calmed her down last night. Me and Gare were looking for you." Max replied. "Jeff told us you were at Rick's and... well, we got the guest room ready for you. Figured you'd be staying there for a while."
Eddie rolled his eyes, but he knew she was right. You had every reason to be mad at him, furious and hurt. His heart lurched at the thought. "Can you get Jeff and... can you both give us some space?" Eddie asked, eyes softening when he looked at Max.
Eddie didn't wait for her response, climbing up the stairs towards the bedroom. He could hear the low rumble of the TV, hesitating for a moment before he turned the knob.
There you sat, perched on the edge of the bed, arms crossed over you, lips twisted and eyes narrowed in a look of pure rage. The dogs in front of you, sitting at alert when Eddie walked in.
"Hi, baby-"
"Don't." You snapped, uncrossing your arms to pound your fist into the mattress. "Don't you fucking dare come in here acting like everything's alright. You left me? You left me?" You sneered, crossing the carpet towards Eddie.
"Baby, I didn't-"
"I wake up and you're gone. Gone. No one knows where you are. Your keys are gone, your cars gone. I didn't get a note, not a word, not so much as a goodbye, I'll be back, a fuck you, nothing!" You jabbed his chest furiously, toe to toe with him. Eddie shrunk under your furious glare.
"I was fucking terrified, Eddie. I thought something had happened, or-or that you..." You shook your head, swallowing around the thought. You couldn't bring yourself to even say it. The harsh truth that you thought was your reality just hours before.
"You left me. You left us." Your hand moved to your stomach, cradling your torso. Eddie's eyes followed, swallowing thickly around your words, around his own guilt. "If you don't want this baby, fine. Just say that, Ed. I'll leave."
"No." Eddie snapped fiercely. You faltered, shocked at his reaction. "No, please don't... I-I fucked up, ok? I was scared and I shouldn't have done that, but I'm not leaving. I'm here now, and I'm here to stay." Eddie grabbed your hands, squeezing them in his own.
"Yeah, for now." You rolled your eyes, turning your head so he wouldn't see the tears that threatened to roll down your cheeks. "Until you decide you don't want to be here-"
"-Don't." Eddie shook his head, jaw flexing with emotion. "It wasn't you or-or the baby." His throat tightened around the words, head spinning at the realization. You were bringing a baby, a real baby into this world. His baby.
"It was me." Eddie croaked, eyes shining wetly, threatening to fall with tears. "I-I just wanna be a good dad. I want to keep you both safe, and-and... I was scared, baby. I was scared I'd be like my dad and-" His face crumpled into itself, a shuttering breath that had his body shaking with sobs.
You reached for him instinctually, pulling him into you with a soothing hand on his head, letting him curl into your neck. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Eddie rasped. "I won't leave, I fucking swear. I'll keep you both safe. I won't let anyone hurt you." He babbled into your skin.
"I know you won't." You hushed him, cradling his head.
"I won't ever leave you again. I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry." Eddie clung to you, hands balling into the material of your shirt.
"You better not." You gave him a watery smile, cradling his jaw when he pulled back. "I'll take Rick's suggestion up next time. Have your balls on a fucking chain if you do that to me again."
Eddie laughed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "I won't." He said sincerely shaking his head.
His hands found your torso, squeezing gently over the place where the baby was. He swore he could feel the swell of your abdomen, a tiny change that had his heart soaring. You'd tell him it was too soon, but he knew it felt different. It was different. You two were going to be parents, bringing a baby- a life into this world.
Eddie worried constantly, endlessly if he'd be a good dad. A million "what ifs" and consuming dark thoughts that wrapped around his mind, leading him to do everything he could to prevent them from coming to fruition. He worried about the labor, about the risks after with new borns, if he'd be able to keep you both safe, if he'd fuck the kid's life up like his dad had his. He wondered if he'd worry forever, that he'd probably never stop, but he did know one thing. He'd be there for you and his baby. He wasn't going to run.
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diagonal-queen · 10 months
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chuuya, kunikida, and dazai with an s/o who would hide under the bed for no reason besides its nice down there and would sometimes grab their ankle to scare them
i would love to hang out under my bed tbh but i keep all my stuff under there lol. good deterrent for demons because then they can't fit under there
S/O who hides under the bed
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♡ pairing: Chuuya Nakahara, Doppo Kunikida, Dazai Osamu x gn!Reader
♡ synopsis: How are these guys with an S/O who likes hanging out under the bed?
♡ cw: Swearing, teensy tiny bit of NSFW in Dazai's part.
note:
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Seriously though. Thank you guys for all your sweet comments and messages I really appreciated all of them very much (and yes each one made me cry). I might not say it very much but I love all of you guys and I'm thankful for your support. Apologies for errors and I hope you enjoy x
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Chuuya:
He's just kinda like...wha...? He's so confused at first lol
Even if you grab his ankle and try to scare him, he's just like...why'd you do that babygirl (gender neutral term). He'd also find it kind of adorable how frustrated you get that it didn't work, but what were you expecting? He's a mafia executive babygirl (again, gender neutral term)
Chuuya is little amused by your under-the-bed habit and lowkey thinks it's pretty cute. At first though he was kinda worried as to what caused it, but if it makes you feel better then he doesn't care
If he wants you out of there he will coax you out with your favourite food or something like you're a puppy (he's getting his yearning for a pet dog out of his system don't worry)
Probably wouldn't go under the bed with you super often, but you guys would have a lot of conversations while he's laying on the bed and you're laying under it. It's surprisingly easy to do!
Would start leaving you little gifts/snacks down there sometimes as a surprise
Probably wouldn't encourage you to sleep under there though. Spinal health and all
As always Chuuya is very supportive and all he wants is for you to feel happy and safe <3
Kunikida:
Worried about this habit at first. He assumes that it's some kind of trauma response. Whether it is or it isn't he'll learn to accept it don't worry
That being said he doesn't really love it. If you wanna relax he'd rather that you do it in a more comfortable space. If you're under there because you don't feel great then he'd rather you just talk to him. He'd do (almost) anything to make you feel better :')
If you grabbed his ankle one time to scare him he might never recover. Like he'd be genuinely terrified. Might faint or burst into tears or scream or something idk
Absolutely would chide you for your "childish behaviour". In all honesty he just feels like it's something Dazai would do and he suffers enough from this kind of thing at work
But yes in the end he would forgive you if you apologised to him. Might not be so kind if you continued trying to scare him though
Leaves you a pillow and a blanket down there just in case you get cold. He won't leave any food though because he's worried about ants and mould and stuff
Wouldn't go under there with you though. Sorry but he just doesn't wanna 😪
Honestly? As long as you're getting your shit done, he doesn't mind where you spend your free time
Dazai:
He literally doesn't even question it. Sometimes small spaces are just cosy y'know?
Dazai literally lived in a shipping container (at least I think? I haven't read Stormbringer yet T-T). He'd be all up for hanging out under the bed whether or not you were with him lol
The first time you grab his ankle to scare him, if you're lucky, you'll catch him off guard. But you're never getting his ass again, ever
I mean sometimes he might play along to humour you, but you'll literally never actually scare him again. Like he just walks into your bedroom under the assumption that you're under the bed and prepared to scare him.
Straight up if he can't find you when he wakes up or something he'll just guess that you're under the bed and won't bother you.
That being said if you straight up disappeared or something he'd obviously worry about you. But he gives you space when you need it, and will only come under the bed with you if you say he can
Also he would definitely start doing it to you. Both as revenge and just because he thinks it's funny, but he'll stop if you ask him to (you don't. It straight up becomes a war)
He straight up might try to get it on with you under the bed, as if there's room or something. Damnit Dazai
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taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fedyushka, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl
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tonkatsubowl · 6 months
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blind. iii
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dan heng x fem!reader
it's a series now! ⛧ part one. ⛧ part two.
➽ inspired by satoru gojo! what if the reader had a special ability with her eyes and often wore a blindfold?
➽ reader is a flirt!
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dan heng has zero experience when it comes to relationships and intimacy.
he had very, very high expectations when he first got into a relationship with you...and he really thought you would be blowing up his phone, asking for his attention and just begging for his presence twenty-four seven.
however, it wasn't that bad as he thought it'd be. most likely because you are a stellaron hunter, and thus you were a busy woman. after your date with dan heng, you had vanished for about a day, not even texting dan heng. for once, he was rather worried about you, especially since you showed great interest in him in the beginning, and well...
you kissed him that one night.
in truth, you were actually in the middle of an emergency expedition to help kafka and silver wolf. they needed you, and you had no choice but to go missing for a few hours, causing your little dragon boy to be worried.
luckily for you, you found a moment to catch your breath after sending a world to a self-destructive state, watching as society began to rip each other apart.
your phone buzzed, and your eyes peeled to the notification display that popped up.
➽ dan heng: hey. are you okay?
you grinned to yourself. you couldn't respond yet, but you will respond later.
...but it had been about a few hours since you sent that message. why haven't you responded back yet?
over at the astral express, dan heng laid in bed with a bit of anxiety. he was a boyfriend now, and he hadn't told anyone. and neither have you, so this was a little secret relationship the both of you guys had. however, the man was anxious that he was hiding away in his room, but luckily, it was the dead of night...and his friends were all asleep.
he tried to sleep a couple of times, but he couldn't. all he could think about was you. maybe he should go and grab some melatonin and sleep it off, and-
ding!
his hands immediately scramble to his phone, seeing your response.
➽ y/n: sorry for the late response. had an emergency. are you okay?
he texted you back immediately.
➽ dan heng: good. i'm okay.
➽ y/n: lol. were you worried? ♡
➽ dan heng: no, i was just curious.
what a liar.
➽ y/n: if you say so! because i missed you. ♡♡♡♡♡
dan heng sighed at your message.
➽ dan heng: i'm just glad you're okay. what was the emergency?
➽ y/n: don't worry about it! just something to do with a mission of mine.
➽ dan heng: i see. i hope everything is okay.
➽ y/n: ? i'm a stellaron hunter and you want to hope everything is okay?
you were teasing him.
➽ dan heng: you know what i mean.
➽ y/n: lmfao, look, if things didn't go well on my end your friends would have the time of their life
something about what you said...didn't seem right.
➽ dan heng: ?
➽ dan heng: what do you mean?
➽ y/n: we're technically enemies, baby doll.
➽ dan heng: yes, but... we're in a relationship, no? as your boyfriend, i should be worried.
ooh, he's taking this seriously. you're into it.
➽ y/n: .
➽ y/n: god i want to kiss you
➽ dan heng: ???
➽ y/n: look, go get some rest. want me to sneak into the astral express again tonight?
➽ dan heng: ...
➽ dan heng: um.
➽ dan heng: if you'd like.
he wanted to see you again. you surpassed the security systems last time, so... and he had a feeling your visit this time had nothing to do with the information in his computer.
➽ y/n: alright, baby doll. i'm omw
➽ dan heng: baby doll??
➽ dan heng: ???
➽ dan heng: why are you calling me baby doll?
➽ dan heng: ...
➽ dan heng: y/n? hello?
➽ dan heng: sigh.
dan heng was right. you didn't want the information on the computer he had, but him.
you successfully infiltrated the astral express' train once again, but this time...something was different. when the door had opened, dan heng greeted you, but...
"y/n. hello⸻"
he froze as his hand went up the air to greet you. his eyes lingered on the bandage that was on your face and your arm was wrapped with bandages...you were injured. but you still came to see him with that flirtatious, cocky smile of yours.
"dan-dan." you cooed quietly as you closed the door behind you, locking it. taking off your shoes, you opened your arms to hug him, but he went up to you instead, hands on your shoulders.
"what? why are you injured? what happened? who did this to you?"
you blinked, staring at dan heng with a puzzled look before smiling. "oh, this? these are just burns and cuts. don't worry about it-"
"let me see your injuries."
you stare at him for a moment, and you would sigh. "look, it's okay, dan-dan. i only got messed up a bit, it's not like i'm dead⸻"
"let me see them, please, y/n."
you stare into his eyes as he gazed upon you with a worried expression, leaving you with a sigh. "alright, dan-dan. since you're so worried."
you move over to the floor to sit down before removing the bandages that was wrapped around your arm. you wince and you flinch, embracing the burning sensation as the cold air of the night kissed your injuries...and god, it stung.
dan heng frowned at the sight before getting up. "i'll be back."
"wait⸻"
you watch as he gets up to go to a different area of his room where he retrieved a box, assuming it was a med kit for you. he approached you, grabbing various of ointments and a few bandages.
"dan-dan, i already took care of it⸻"
"this ointment i have with me is strong enough to cure your injuries in a couple of days."
you decided not to protest. the moment the main was insisting on helping you...there was no used to stopping him. instead, you sheepishly smile, nodding. "..alright." you whisper before you watched him do his work.
applying the ointment to your arm, you flinch, cursing to yourself as you felt the ointment being rubbed on the burning spots.
"fire?" he murmured. "or was it a weapon don on high temperature?" he questioned.
"both," you smile through the pain, "eventually got him, but he had me...as you can see."
he sighed. "please be more careful."
"you're worried huh? that bad?" you grin.
"yes," he paused for a moment, "...i just...we had a bet, that's all. a deal."
you fell silent, but you still had a smile, "...i know. i have the flash drive on me, after all." you said.
now the two of you were quiet, and you were already used to the stinging pain that had kicked you in the ass. eventually, dan heng finished, replacing your bandages with newer ones and tossing the old ones out.
"alright, so... just come back tomorrow and i'll have to do the same thin⸻"
you got up, brushing your lips against dan heng's as you gently pushed him against your desk. he was taken back for a moment, but...he returned the kiss, just a bit. he was a bit inexperienced, after all.
pulling away, you looked at him with a satisfied smile.
"thanks, dan-dan. i'll come back tomorrow, but..." you take a step back. "wish i could stay longer." you look down to your phone, a frustrated look across your features. "i have something to do."
dan heng was quiet, looking at you with a worried expression before nodding. "...just don't get hurt."
he paused.
"...that ointment is expensive."
you grinned, turning your back towards him as you stepped towards the door.
"...i'll be back."
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