#I stared at this for like 2 hours I took no breaks and now my eyes hurt. peculiar dfsdfsdfd

[dearestxiao]

the color blue: storm clouds [part three] | yandere xiao x reader, yandere venti x reader

synopsis: (college au) today's the day you finally meet the one you call alatus, your anonymous pen pal who you share a lot in common with. what had once started out as something on paper turns into something real. if that wasn't an emotional whirlwind enough, not soon after you are made to relive your past. and as the long night stretches on, you realize the one who you once knew best is becoming unrecognizable.

WARNINGS: while this chapter is mostly tame, this story will progress to have heavier and darker themes. implied stalking, lots of manipulation, dubious consent to touching, guilt-tripping, roommate venti is a warning in it of itself, some implied student-teacher dynamics (reader is 21, zhongli is in his late 20's/ early 30's), lots and lots of drinking, arguments, and a lot of mentions of a previous break up.

wc: 15k

authors note: first of all... is it too late for summerween, lol? I cannot believe this chapter took so long to come out, and I also can't believe that it finally did. but here it is! I'm always very grateful to anyone who has stuck around this long to see this chapter. I apologize if the writing style is different than the first two chapters! this one took way longer than I thought to write (and I'm tempted to write a giant authors note post to explain everything), so much so my style has definitely changed. I hope that it's at least somewhat enjoyable. please let me know if there are any formatting issues, unfinished sentences, or any other errors in that manner! I had a lot of formatting issues while uploading, so some things might have been deleted, jumbled around, etc. 

this is my offering to the gods in hopes that the fanfic I've been waiting for to update, too, finally updates.

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏” ♡♡♡ [part 1] [part 2]

this is a dark fiction story. minors, do not interact. as always, reblogs are extremely appreciated!

as much as you try, you can't fall asleep.

you've probably spent the past hour or so tossing and turning in bed, praying that your eyes would eventually get heavy enough for you to drift asleep, yet here you were, staring at the blank nothingness of your ceiling instead. to your displeasure, you're wide awake, and you're antsy, too. it's the night before sunday, halloween, and in just a few hours from now you'll be meeting alatus, your blue.

and yet, despite the fact that you were to meet so soon, you can't help but be nervous, because you still know little about the identity of the man who has been so heavily ingrained into your life for months now.

you picked through your messages with a fine tooth comb, all several months worth of them. there are little things, sure, small little paper trails of his likes and interests, but there's no clear identifier of who he really is. you have some ideas, of course, a tiny list of people you think it could be, but there's always a conflicting detail, something that doesn't correlate with what you little you do know about him, so you're forced to cross out their name out.

in your restlessness, you had managed to muster up just enough energy to dig into the archive of letters he had sent you, all the ones you've kept stored in an old box hidden deep within the recesses of your closet. you had returned to bed with a few of them, reading through them once again as if it were your first time ever doing so, eyes trailing against every word in search of finding something, anything, that'll help you paint a better picture of him.

you've spent an abhorrent amount of time talking to him, way more than you'd like to admit. he's the first one you text when you wake up in the morning, and the last one you chat with at night before bed. you'd update him about your life throughout the day, and ask him any questions that come to mind to try to get a better view into his little secret world. he always gave you just enough to keep you craving more.

you've always tried your hardest to get something a little more telling, helpful, in identifying him, but if there's one thing you do know about alatus, it's that he's a private man.

you know that this situation is abnormal. how could you be so trusting of someone who you know so little about? the truth is, your little infatuation had been born out of desperation. there was a time you had been surrounded by people you loved, those who were there for you, who would listen to you, who'd spend your time with you, and you'd spend your time with them. now, it's been so long since you've had a good, honest friend— if there's anything honest about your friendship at all; you can only hope that is— apart from venti, that you can't help but cling onto him.

after all, the life that you had before had been severed from you after the breakup.

but his choice to have stayed anonymous has always made you nervous, even if you liked the image of him you've created in your head.

one letter catches your eye more than the others. it's one of the last letters he sent before you two moved onto texting. most of the letters he had sent you had been riddled with questions aimed towards you, and responses to whatever the answers from the last letter you gave him were. that was the usual with alatus— he chimes in on your stories, but almost never answers with an anecdote of himself, unless you explicitly ask him to. this one was different though, the first time he truly opened up to you, let you peer into his mind even for just a little moment.

you only vaguely recall parts of the letter you sent to him.

‘dear alatus,

…is it okay if I ask you some questions too? I feel like I'm always answering yours, and while it's nice to talk to a good listener (or a good reader, I suppose?), I always want to know more about you…

I know that you know my identity, given that I'm not anonymous like you are, but can I ask, have we ever crossed paths to your memory? what's your area of study here? and, can you tell me anything about yourself? it doesn't have to be anything specific, it could be anything at all…’

and here, right in your hands, lies his response.

‘dear [name],

I appreciate your curiosity, but honestly, I don't have anything interesting to say. you don't have to ask me anything back. I'm more interested in hearing about you than I am in talking about myself. but it is true, it's only fair for me to tell you something about myself too, for all that you have told me about. I wasn't sure what that thing should be, so I hope this is of some interest to you.

I grew up in the harbor. it was beautiful growing up. it still is, but it's different now; it's changed so much since I was younger. still, a part of me misses it, even though I've chosen to leave some of the memories from there behind.

I moved to the city only a little while ago. I'm still getting used to it. it's not far at all from liyue, but it's so much different now. I've been spending my nights wide awake now, but I used to be an early bird, once upon a time back in liyue. back then I'd be up before the sun rose, sitting near the docks and watching the waves curl and crest. it'd be the only noise you could hear, but it was just loud enough to drown away my overthinking. I've been trying to play ocean sounds while I sleep. It's not the same.

there's no quietness like that here anymore. everything is always constantly moving. liyue harbor had much more of a community than here. there was no place you could go where everyone didn't already know you. there was no escaping yourself. I'm surrounded by people here in the city, but I'm more lonely than I was back at home. I think it's better that way, though.

I'm sorry to be so cryptic. I know that this answer will only leave you with more questions, but it's the most I'm comfortable sharing. forgive me.

to answer your other questions, we don't know each other, at least not yet. as for the rest of your questions; we have met before, or at least I've met you. I don't believe that you recall that, though, so I’d rather save myself the embarrassment of you not remembering than tell you. besides that, we're in two different departments, so we don't have as much of an overlap as would be favorable. maybe our schedule will align more in the future.

you said in one of your first few letters that you were craving connection. I guess that it's the same for me too. I think this is the most I've ever talked about myself in ages. I'm not sure how I feel about it, but I do know that I feel connected to you. by now, we've talked too much to each other for me to just sever it. I'd like to stay connected with you for a long time, if that's okay with you. if you are ever willing to meet me, let me know. maybe by then I could tell you more.’

you don't know why, but every time you've reread this letter, you find yourself circling back to xiao. you can't help but think back to the old photos of liyue you found on his pin board, and the similarities in their demeanors— cold and reserved on the outside, yet sweet and caring on the inside. both are rather private, too, only ever revealing as minimal as they can about themselves. they never stray from their self appointed listener roles unless they have good reasoning to do otherwise. yet despite their mien, they're rather attentive companions, as you've come to learn.

the similarities are there, but once again, there's always something that doesn't match up. for one, alatus had said you two had never met before, when you had, albeit for various brief moments, mainly stemming from chance encounters in the numerous classes you've two had together. besides, you already have xiao's number, which is different than the one alatus uses to communicate with you. and, at least to your knowledge and what you could infer by the fact that xiao had been in the aforementioned numerous classes with you, you two were in the same department, which doesn't match up with alatus's answer.

you can't help but feel frustrated. you feel like you're circling in dead ends. you can't help but repeat the question over and over in your head: are you making a mistake? it worries you, truthfully. what if he isn't whoever the hell your brain imagined him to be? he must be private for a reason. you just hope those reasons are for good.

thankfully, before you continue spiraling down further, your aimless thinking gets interrupted by a soft knock on your door, accompanied by a gentle call of your name, quiet enough that if you were sleeping, it wouldn't be enough wake you.

venti has come to visit you. it's become a nightly habit at this point, but you don't necessarily mind. you instinctively fold the letter back up, placing it and the others that had been in your lap into one of the drawers in your bedside table for safekeeping in a haste like you were hiding erotica.

“come in,” you let out as you tuck yourself back into bed with the small amount of energy you have, hoping that it was just loud enough to be heard through the thinness of the door.

you watch a bit of warm yellow light spill into the cold of your room from the hallway as venti pushes the door open gently. he's illuminated just barely enough for you to be able to see him, clad in an old t-shirt and sweats with the wild length of his hair thrown up into a ponytail. his blue locks are so bright you swear that even in this darkness it glows.

his expression looks light, much softer than the face he made the last time he had visited your room in the night. you can tell that he's more at ease now than he was just a few days prior. just talking to him last night must've helped.

“hey,” he greets you with a wave, other hand still wrapped around the door knob. “can I come in?” he asks softly. you nod, giving him the go ahead.

you flip over on your side and scooch over like it's muscle memory, making space for him to sit next to you.

he takes the gesture as a further invitation, shutting the door behind him before making his way over to the soft, warm comfort of your bed. the room is cast back in shadow, yet you can still make out his form as he lays next to you. he props his head up with one arm, while the other takes claim over your waist in the spot where your sleep shirt has risen up, doing so as naturally as breathing.

his fingers are calloused from years of playing stringed instruments, but his touch is light and airy regardless. you don't lean into his touch, but you don't pull away either, which is good enough for him.

“what's up?” you're first to speak, questioning your doting roommate as to why he decided to pay you a visit.

there's a little smile on his face and a glint in his eyes that spells ‘adoration.’ his thumb runs small circles into your skin. “just wanted to say goodnight. I figured you’d be awake. you've been staying up late a lot lately.”

you nod. “yeah, I have.” blame that on alatus, you suppose.

he hums at your response, studying your face. his eyes, which are admittedly awfully pretty, traces your face, catching onto the way there's a slight furrow ingrained in your brows and a little pout hanging off your lips. the expressions are tiny, almost negligible, yet he can't ignore them. it's quiet for a second as he thinks.

“...are you doing alright?”

you want to shake your head no, but you do otherwise. no, you're not doing alright. you're nervous, so incredibly nervous, an absolute wreck, really. you can't say that though, so instead you settle for the best little smile you could muster up over explaining the situation to him, forcing down your fears in a thick swallow.

“yeah, of course I am. why?”

his eyebrows furrow, looking at you with worry. “are you sure? you look a little… I don't know. worried, I guess?”

you thought that you were able to mask yourself well, but you suppose that nothing gets past the man you've been closest to for the past couple of years. you hum, “I’m fine, just thinking is all.”

you're not sure why, but he's suspicious of that answer, like he knows you're not telling the full truth, even still. he nods his head slowly, taking some time to plan his response. you can really tell that he's being more careful with his choice of words than he usually would.

“you know, if something's on your mind, you can talk to me.” it comes out as a soft whisper, thumb still rubbing soothing shapes into your skin.

“I know, I know,” you try to lighten up the conversation, ease him away, but you can tell he won't budge. you try to steer the conversation as far away from the real object you're engrossed with as you can.

a bout of guilt bubbles up in your stomach. just a night or two ago, you had been practically chatting venti's ear off. you two had stayed up into the echoes of the night, catching up and laughing and gossiping and even shedding a few tears. it was refreshing, nostalgic, even. of course you two talk on a daily basis (hell, venti can't get through a single day without debriefing), but this was different. it's been rare these days for you to actually interact like true best friends would, mainly because, as of a little longer than a few months ago, you had started to pull back away from him, growing more and more distant by the day. you two had even ended the night off with a long hug, one of the first in a long time.

venti, unbeknownst to you, had thought this was the start of the end of that little grudge he suspected you had against him, and yet now it serves as a point that you had broken your promise.

you can guess what he's thinking.

‘[name] is already back to being distant again.’

you told him you would tell him everything going on in your life, and you really did tell him everything!

everything, except that you're meeting alatus.

you give it one more shot to steer the conversation away. “just nervous about the party, that's all.”

to be fair, it isn't exactly a lie. you haven't been out like that in a while, and haven't seen some of your old friends for even longer, especially since most of your friends were your ex's friends, too. so you really were nervous about the party, but…

he gives you a deadpanned look that screams ‘seriously?’ without having to say it out loud. he shakes his head, not believing you for even a single second. “you wouldn’t be nervous or anxious about some party.” you can tell he's a bit upset. “what’s really on your mind?”

you're taken a bit back by this sudden attitude. “it's really nothing.”

he cocks his head at you. he looks up at you with big, begging eyes, a pout forming on his lips. “you told me you would tell me everything from now on.” it comes out as a low whisper, words dripping with melancholy and a hint of a disappointed tone.

you can't help but sigh at his words.

it's then that you accept your defeat. you take a deep breath, preparing yourself, knowing that his reaction will be unpredictable. “I’m meeting this guy tomorrow.”

at first, he lets out a little shocked “oh!” in acknowledgement.

and then, only a few seconds later, you watch as he internalizes what that means, like tasting the sour part of a candy that starts off sweet. “oh.”

you don't like the sound of that reaction. you can already tell that your innocent confession has been warped and twisted around in his head somehow.

“didn’t know you were letting someone steal you away from me on our day.”

the smile plastered on his face is strained, almost painfully so, and you know that a rush of emotions has entered into him.

“no one's stealing me away. you made it impossible for anyone to do so, you know?”

“true. a few have tried, but no one can ever take my treasure.” he chuckles softly, but you can still a hint of worry.

there's silence between you two before he finally speaks again, no longer making eye contact with you, instead watching his finger as he trails your skin. “so you're nervous about this meeting? why didn't you tell me that you were meeting someone? and who are you meeting, anyways?”

“I just didn't want you to worry, is all. I'm still going to be spending the night with you, of course. and it's just someone I've been talking to for awhile, is all."

the fact that you don't disclose explicitly who this mystery person is makes him feel... odd. he nods, removing his hand from your skin before turning onto his back, humming softly to himself as his eyes gaze into the ceiling. it's silent again, which worries you. you can never predict what he's thinking in times like these. the air is thick and heavy, and it's almost hard to swallow in such an atmosphere. you don't know what else to say. but then, he suddenly decides to change the subject.

“do you remember the first night we moved in?”

the question comes out of left field. you raise your brow.

“of course I do.”

he tells you the story anyways, as if you weren't there. his eyes are glossed over, cheeks rosy and lips forming a soft pout, and if you look closely enough, you can see him reliving the day in his head.

“it was early october, wasn't it? no, late september— anyways, back then we only had a couch and a TV, and we were unpacking all day. we were so exhausted that we just wanted to wind down. so, we laid down on our couch, and we started browsing for movies. and then you found this freaky horror movie and begged me to watch it with you. I said no, because I know you're a scaredy-cat—”

“am not,” you bicker at his comment, to which he shakes his head, chuckling at your denial.

“yes you are, don't even try to deny it. anyways, you were all like, ‘it's just a movie, of course I'm not gonna be scared.’” he mimics your voice, “so then I finally gave in, because I love you, and I can't say no to my cecelia, and you sounded so convincing. but guess what?” he can't help but giggle at the memory, “you were soooooo scared! you held onto me like the monster was actually in our home,” he laughs, a good, hearty laugh. “I had to hold you all night. you shouldn't have been so scared, I would've fended you off from that thing easily. then we fell asleep together on the couch, in each other's arms, might I add. that next morning you pretended like we didn't, but when we continued unpacking, you opened up to me, and you told me so much about yourself, stuff you wouldn't have ever told me before.

I'd never seen you like that before that day. you were always in your shell, but I think that moment opened you up to me. you'd tell me about everything; every fear, every worry, every hope and dream. who you liked, who you didn't like— you used to be so vulnerable with me, my dove. nowadays I have to beg you to open yourself back up to me…”

he faces you after taking a breath, eyebrows contorted in disdain, the comfort of the memory replaced with the bitter revelation that those days are long in the past.

he continues to speak, this time without thinking. “we were so close after that moment. but you've changed after that relationship.”

the words are bitter, nasty– ‘relationship’ is said with a thick coat of citric acid. your mouth goes agape, and so does his at the realization that those words actually escaped out of his lips, especially in such a tone.

it's the most blunt he's ever been about his feelings surrounding… that.

you can see the instant regret rushing across his face. he didn't mean to say it like that, really. you can tell that it was something that wasn't supposed to slip out of his mouth, a thought hidden deep in the recesses of his mind that was supposed to remain chained back, but it slipped from his grasp and out of his unsuspecting mouth.

he looks back at you, eyes wide and apologetic. "I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean for it to come out that way." but he meant it, and you knew that he did.

it's true. you two used to be close, once upon a time. you'd come to every one of his concerts, and you'd always spend days huddled up on the couch together. you two would cook and play house, and he'll never forget all of the drunken nights you two spent together. you, the old you, shows up again every now and then, like it did a just a night or two ago, the you who would share yourself with him. after all of that, how was he supposed to pretend like you two weren't that close?

he doesn't understand, can't wrap his head around it, what led to your relationship with him changing so rapidly. after all, he was there for you every second after the break up, ready to sweep you off on your feet. he was the shoulder you leaned on, the one who held you as you cried, who tried to help you get answers as to why, and yet, after the first few weeks, it became a taboo topic. you stopped coming to him, pulling away, creating distance between you two. so he repeats the question in his head.

what happened to you two?

you swallow thickly as if a lump is stuck in your throat.

"venti, can you look at me?" somewhat begrudgingly, he does.

you place a hand on his cheek, hoping that the touch would soothe him. "I promise that I don't do it maliciously. last night, when I told you I would tell you everything from now on, I really did mean it. if it'll make you happy, i'll tell you everything that happens tomorrow, okay?"

his hand cups yours, nodding. he would have preferred from the start, but the fact that you were willing to hear him out and understand him was enough for him. more than enough. "okay. thank you, cecelia. I believe you."

and you mean it. if anything serious happens between you and alatus, you promise you'll tell him, you swear, pinkie promise.

deep down, though, you’re not sure it's a promise you can (or should) actually keep, though.

———

the door lets out a soft jingle of bells as you enter. alatus had let you take claim over where you two would meet for your best comfort, and you had chosen the local cafe, lutece. it looks the same as it always has, and smells the same too, the intoxicating aroma of their special coffee beans and baked goods like crepes and macarons hitting you as soon as you step in. a wave of nostalgia washes over you as you give the cafe a once over. it's still as warm and cozy as it usually is. it's popular, especially on a weekend, and even more so today.

your eyes scan over the entire cafe, taking note of almost every single person your eyes can meet. you're trying to match them up with the picture of alatus you've come up with in your head, like a detective using a police sketch. this is gonna be hard, you think, especially since you don't really know what your idea of alatus is anymore. plus, there's a lot of people here today, any of which could be your blue.

still, you decide to try to take a wild guess.

okay, let's see… there's a waitress taking down an order (no), an older couple sharing what you think is a dessert (definitely not), a handful of people dining on their own (maybe?), there's even a few fellow students here that you recognize (if alatus really is one of your peers, it'd probably be one of them). oh, and xiao's here too (oh, xiao's here too!).

…

…

…

wait, xiao's here? 

oh, xiao. you can't help but get your hopes up at the sight of the reclusive man sitting by himself in one of the booth seats near the window. he was one of the names at the top of your mental lists of potential contenders of those who could be alatus. but too many details didn't add up, and as much as you didn't want to, you had to rule him out. 

and yet, there's a little hope that gets sparked, a flame lit with the same vibrancy as your next clue; his freshly dyed blue hair. his hair, which had been a faded, grown out green for the past couple of months, had been dyed navy blue with rich turquoise highlights peaking out from underneath. 

you still don't really believe it at first, though. venti has blue hair, and so does ganyu, and xingqiu, hell, even your ex does too. It's not an uncommon thing on your campus. it could just be a coincidence, seriously. you try not to pay him any mind, forcing your eyes not to linger on him as you scan again for the sake of not getting your hopes up. there's that same waitress. and the same people dining. oh, there's that one girl you had a group project with awhile back, but she's probably not your blue. and then there's xiao, who's…

staring right at you.

…

…

…

alatus had gotten there early.

awkwardly early, even, so early that he freaks out thinking about whether or not it’s weird that he’s so early. he feels his skin crawl a little as he thinks. he's worried, always, that he'll come off as a creep, even though there truly is no reasoning behind that fear. paranoia is a bug that creeps down his spine. he taps against the table with his fingers anxiously as he looks out of the window, watching the orange leaves blow and tousle around in autumn's wake. underneath the table, his knee is bouncing down at the speed of light. he’s trying, desperately, to calm his nerves, but he can’t, because he was equally just as desperate to see you.

his unease is only exasperated further when he gets a text from you. 

‘almost there, see you soon.’

he feels his heart quicken it's pace and the air gets stuffier in seconds. he's not exactly sure he's prepared for this, but this was always the end goal, right?

no point in walking it back now.

his head perks up at the sound of the bells at the entrance jingling, the sweet noise serving to alert whenever someone has entered. his heart skips a beat, imagining that it was you who had walked through that door. but, to his disappointment, when he takes a glance over at the entrance, it's not you walking through the door. then, it happens again, and again. the jingling makes him feel desperate, to the point that when he hears it the fourth time, he considers keeping his head down, but something tells him to look. 

he turns his head. what was supposed to be another quick glance turns into something much longer, because…

you're here. 

there's a hand-knitted scarf wrapped protectively around the sweet length of your neck. and underneath your protective jacket that fights against autumn's crisp air is your costume, accompanied by a plastic sword that hangs off your hip. if he were to assume, you were some sort of adventurer of sorts, he thinks. he can't help but think that you look cute. furrowed eyebrows frame your darting eyes. your head is craning this way and that, trying to search for alatus, scanning the room like you're a life guard. he watches your gaze closely, taking his time to observe you, before it happens.

you lock eyes with alatus.

you look like a deer caught in headlights, eyes a little wide and lips a little parted. he's not at all sure what to make of the scene except for the fact that he can't help but like the way you look startled.

he had expected you to look away, to have to call you over manually, but to his surprise, you pass him a little smile at the connection once you snap out of your shock, as if you were greeting a friend. 

a friend. is that what he is to you now? he supposes so. but it's then that he realizes that you haven't made the connection, so right before you go back to your scans, he waves you over. in earnest, he does the motion out of impatience. it's not that you were taking too long or anything (besides, alatus has already proven himself to be a patient man), he just doesn't think his heart could handle the stress for any longer.

you still didn't want to believe it yet. but then he tilts his head to the empty seat in front of him, gesturing you over, and you know.

you've found your blue.

you feel the world slow down a little as you make your way towards his booth. golden eyes follow your every move, refusing to look away for even a second. everytime xiao has ever stared you down, you've always had this creeping feeling that he was almost analyzing you. you feel it now again. you don't mind it, though, maybe because you know it's only fair for him to do to you what you do to him. what's worse is that he takes your breath away to the point you feel like you're starving for air, and you're not yet sure whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. he looks good today. really good. you're not sure what it is exactly, and maybe xiao's just always looked that good, but it doesn't help your nerves at all. you try your best not to melt underneath his hot gaze. 

the small nook is tiny, intimate, leaned right up against the big frosted window panes. there's a table in between you two but you still feel so suffocatingly close to him. it makes you feel like you're meeting xiao all over again, seated right back on his bed like you were just a few days ago, back when he was a different man to you, a stranger. there's no reason for you to feel this antsy at just the mere sight of him. maybe sooner or later you'll accept the fact that you're developing a crush on him. now is not the time for that, though.

it's him who speaks first as you get settled. “hey.” the greeting is soft and low. in your haze, you forget for a second that you two are acquaintances now, maybe even friends. 

“hey, xiao,” the name flows off your tongue. it's the most that you can muster, hands a little shaky and meek vocal cords refusing to say anything more. 

your mind flips through all the things you could say like your choosing a record in a jukebox, but you never press play on anything. 

‘how have you been, xiao?’

‘what a coincidence seeing you here today, xiao.’

‘xiao, are you the guy I've been talking to for months now without ever seeing, by any chance?’

none of those are what you want to say, and at this point, he's wondering if you still haven't caught on.

thankfully, you manage to muster up the courage to speak, although not much.

“are you…?” you draw the two words you can get out slowly, uncertain.

as much as you want to finish your sentence, you can't help but hold yourself from asking the full question, trailing off at the tail end. you wouldn't be able to finish it even if you tried. 

a part of you is worried about how embarrassing (and disappointing) it'd be if you're wrong and xiao isn't who you think he is, how you'd have to leave your seat and say goodbye, which you really didn't want to do, and begrudgingly excuse yourself as you go find your real blue. if it really is him, he'd know to fill in the blank; alatus.

and, to your great relief, he does.

“yeah,” he swallows thickly, adam's apple bobbing, “I am.”

your eyes widen in disbelief. “oh my god.” the exclamation of surprise slips out of your mouth in a whisper, as if you're calling out to a higher being to ask if this is all real. a flash of worry strikes xiao face at the sound, which he had hoped you didn't catch, but you do. however, you're quick to try to calm his worries. he'd braced himself for the worst, which is why it's so shocking to see a smile creep up your face.

truth be told, he's taken aback by how pleased you seem to be that it’s him. you're grinning at him with teeth. does he deserve such an expression?

“I can't believe it's really…”

actually, you could. it's just like xiao to show up in every place you could think of. still, it shocks you nonetheless.

“I never guessed that it was you. I mean, I thought about it, but I never…” you find yourself short circuiting in a mixture of relief and excitement. how cool is it that your tutor is the one to have been your pen pal? “it's nice to meet you again. it feels like I've been meeting you over and over again.”

despite your expressions of what can seemingly be described as excitement, there's still a little ache in his chest, a fear he can't banish no matter how wide your smile is or how bright your eyes glisten at him. his eye are fixated downwards at the table, running through every curvature of each line of the wood's grain. 

“I'm sorry if I wasn't who you were expecting.”

he doesn't know what image of him you made up in your head

you shake your head no. “you're beyond what I was expecting. I'm glad it's you.”

your words break his trance, forcing him to glance back up at you. 

“sorry if that's too forward. I've just really enjoyed talking to you during our sessions.”

“no, I… thank you. I feel the same way about you.” 

your heart beat quickens to a rapid pace at those words, and you can't help but feel flustered at the mutual joy you two have. 

there's a brief moment of silence between you two. it feels like hours, but it's only a few seconds, a minute at most. it's heavy, but it isn't awkward, at least not like you'd expect it to be. it's the kind of silence that'd come after you watched an amazing movie or read a really good book and you need to take a second to take in what you just saw. you feel yourself start to smile uncontrollably, feeling not only relief wash over you, but gratefulness.

if the archons you read so much about were real, this would be proof.

in that moment, you use the silence as an opportunity to really look at him, look at alatus, look at xiao— look at your blue. and god, is he blue.

you didn't understand why he gave you such an ambiguous hint, at first, but you understand now, even if it was definitely unintentional, a throwaway line to satiate your need to know, just how revealing that hint was. 

you do the very same routine you'd do on any regular day. you dig into him, excavating so much more than you usually do. your eyes track from his the first thing you notice from his appearance is that his hair is vibrant, but you've already taken that in.

you do make a new discovery when taking a glance over at his bare arms. it's the most you’ve ever seen of his skin. you could always correctly guess a man like xiao would be adorned with tattoos, but this was the first time you’ve gotten any confirmation of that theory. underneath all of those clothes that usually swallow him whole is delicately decorated skin. the main one that catches your eye is the largest of all of them, a big piece that spans the entire length of his arm (which you note are more muscular and toned than you were expecting). it's a light shade of minty green, and it's even a bit visibly faded from age. 

you move back up to his face. you connect his piercings and beauty marks and scars all like little stars in a constellation, giving you a bigger, brighter image of xiao. his eyes are lined expertly with red and black, highlighting the lavish golden amber color of his irises. you've never seen someone else with such a rich color, maybe only zhongli, especially since your eyes have always shifted away from his before you got a chance to take in their beauty. and now that you've unknowingly breathed life back into them, they're even brighter than before. 

you could spend all day looking at him, analyzing him, but instead you choose to let him speak for himself. you're the first to initiate a conversation again.

“I like your hair. did you dye it for the occasion?”

“you’ve noticed?” he smiles at your comment. it's partially a partially sarcastic response, given the circumstances, but he still adverts his gaze as he mumbles out a little thank you at the end.

“how could I not? it's the only clue you gave me.” 

“see? I told you it was enough.”

you scoff playfully. “you could've spared me something else, at least. you're not the only one with blue hair on campus, you know.”

“really? I had no idea. name one.”

“hmm… I've told you about my roommate venti, right? well either way, I'm sure you've seen him around.” 

he nods his head. yes, of course he knows venti. how could he not? even if xiao hadn't done his research, and you hadn't already directly telling him about venti, he'd have seen him around eventually. he's quite a popular member of the music conservatory, playing all sorts of stringed instruments both during and outside of concerts. you could go to any bar local to campus and see him playing during any open mic. and as for you… well, once upon a time you had been just as popular by association. everyone who knew venti knew that anywhere the modern bard would go, you'd be somewhere nearby, cheering him on no matter the occasion. 

you were once his cheerleader, but everything has fallen apart since then, hasn't it, [name]?

“ah, speaking of venti, did I tell you I had a party to go to a few hours after this?”

“you've mentioned it in passing, I think.” he's not sure if that's true or not. sometimes he forgets what he's learned straight from the source, and straight from the grapevine. that answer plays it safe, though. “did he invite you to it? are you excited?” 

you scrunch up your face, which tells him all that he needs to know. “well… I'd like to hang out with venti. we always hang out every hallows eve, but I don't know. I would have preferred to stay home with him like we usually do, but I think that he's trying to get me to be more social again. I'd stay home if I could, but I know that if I skip out on this, it'll make our relationship even rockier than it already is.” you sigh, fingers absent-mindedly tracing over the patterns in the wood grain as you accidentally spill out your woes to xiao.

“I think I would rather be at home watching…” you trail off, partially daydreaming, mumbling out your favorite autumnal/seasonal movie that would've been perfect to watch today. you've never been much of a party goer like your roommate, but you've always toughed yourself through it for his sake. it's just a little different now, though.

xiao perks up, realizing that it's a perfect opportunity. he thinks he's doing good at this conversation thing. “I have that one.” 

you perk up at that, sitting up in your booth seat from your mopey slouch. “yeah, really? that's cool. I didn't get much of a chance to look through your dvd collection the last times I've been over, but I can tell you have good taste already. I'd love to look, if you're ever okay with that.”

of course, he nods. it's like a promise that you'll see him again. he knew back from your letters that for some reason, you had seriously taken an interest in him, developing a curiosity towards him and his likes, but it never manages to not send shivers down his spine and tingles up the length of his body anytime you express that. he doesn't know why he deserves it, knows he hasn't done anything to earn that kind of attention from you (quite the opposite, really), and yet here you were, wanting to dig more into him. the funny thing is, though, even though he knows he's unworthy, he'll still let you, because while he likes pretended like he has self restraint, he’s too weak to the way your eyes glisten at him to resist.

he takes a deep breath, unable to look you in the eye as he proposes something to you. “we can… we can watch it together at my place, if you'd like.” 

the glow that has gone away while talking about your reservations about the party suddenly reappears, to his delight.

“really?” you lean in, surprised at the offer. “t-that'd be nice. I'd love to.” you're overly enthusiastic, stuttering over yourself as you take him up on that proposal. he thinks his heart is about to burst. he has a stronger will than expected, though, because he somehow managed to get the next sentence out of his mouth without a single stutter. “why don't we order some stuff to go and then head over to my place?”  he moves to get up, sliding out of the booth, and you quickly follow suite. 

“you're right. venti would lose his mind if he knew I went here without a slice of his favorite apple pie.” 

———

venti: how's your meet up going?

venti: is he nice? sweet? a creep? someone I know? tell me all of the details!

venti: btw, make sure to get there at 8. I want to make sure we have enough time to hang out at home like we usually do. 

venti: I rented out a couple films. don't worry, none are scary.

———

you two had arrived at xiao’s house, goodies from lutece in tow, although the warm coffee that you grabbed had already gotten cold by the time you two stepped foot through the door. it had taken longer than usual to get there, likely due to traffic from those who celebrate the holiday. 

xiao likes the fact that you know where to hang your stuff up already, beginning to get accustomed to the space as it if were natural for you to do so, as if it were yours. maybe soon, it will be.

his apartment is a little more messy than the last time you've been here, but not by much. there's just a few more books and books and things of that nature sprawled out around. still, he apologizes. he hadn't expected you to want to come over, so he hasn't cleaned up in advanced.

you two are quick to settle in, sitting on his bed together, backs leaned up against the wall. you two are pressed side to side, watching your comfort film on his laptop. it plays in between you two, and you stare at the screen with a look of admiration. xiao has seen this one before, and he really liked it, yet his mind is simply somewhere else throughout the entire duration. he can't focus on anything when you’re this close to him. your body is warm. it's the kind of warmth that's only ever existed in his imagination, the kind of warmth that could cure frostbite, or save him from a night terror, the kind of warmth he just can't get enough of.

he's undeserving of this. it's inorganic, unnatural, a relationship (can he even call it that?) birthed on a lie (or rather multiple), and yet when you lean in a little closer to see the film better, he doesn't pull away. no, instead he takes it as an opportunity to shift himself a little closer, too, pretending as though he's helping you get a better view. you can't help but smile to yourself. xiao can't help but stuff down his guilt.

besides, what's the point of being so absorbed in the ethics when he's a non practitioner?

it's a miracle that you stay awake. between the calming nature of the film, the comfort of xiao's bed (and xiao's presence), and the way that you two are close enough that you can smell him— it's an intoxicating scent of delicate powdery scent of qingxin flowers that waft over your sense of small anytime you're in the harbor and almond extract— you can't help but get sleepy. yet, to your surprise, you had made it all the way to the end credits without nodding off. 

he had turned the laptop off soon after, placing it to his side. you let out a little yawn, pleased with the moment you were in. not soon after, somehow, you two were still talking. you had been taking meticulous track of times, and even after you finished the film, you still had a little more time to kill before you had to head out. so of course, you take it as an opportunity to make as much of the time you two have together.

neither of you have really moved since the end of the film, casually discussing it while still side by side, shoulder to shoulder, thighs close to overlapping with one another. there's this soft glow that washes over xiao's face. despite his edgy appearance, its the most gentle you've ever seen him look.

there was a moment of silence between you two, simply just enjoying each others presence. it feels peaceful, natural, even, to be with him. you wonder if he feels the same, wonders if his chest beats as fast as yours does at the proximity, too.

your craving to know more about him causes you to break the silence between you two.

"hey, xiao?"

"hm?"

"I know I've asked already, but would you mind telling me anything about yourself? whatever you want to tell me. I feel like I've done a ton of talking today."

he shakes his head. “I don't have much to tell you about.” 

you scoff. “you can't use that excuse on me anymore, you should know that.” 

he really does want to tell you more, but truth be told, he's scared that his mouth is a ticking time bomb, and he's been good at keeping it to himself, so he doesn't want to blow up just yet. he doesn't want to say anything that'll ruin everything he's built up between you two, but that leaves him with very little to say, so he chooses to say nothing, if he can help it.

“but I'm really not all that interesting.”

you give him a deadpanned look. “xiao.” he lets out a little laugh at the frown you make. it's cute. he likes it. and he can't help but be swayed by it. he decides to make you a deal. 

“I'll tell you something else about myself if you tell me something.” 

you look at him, shocked. “tell you something else? that's all I've been doing all day!”

“just one more.”

you think about it, begrudgingly agreeing. “fine, what do you want to know? 

“during our first tutoring session, you said you haven't spent much time with anyone else recently.”

“yeah, I haven't, not in a long time now, apart from you.”

“does that include venti? 

“sort of. we definitely haven't been as close as we used to be, mostly because I distanced myself from him. things have just been weird between me and him.”

he hums, listening to you attentively. “why is that?”

you sigh. it's the first time explaining this all to anyone, and you're not quite sure how to do it.

you used to date this guy for a bit over a year. he was perfect, honestly. he was sweet and kind, but funny and sassy too, and so charming. he swept you off your feet with ease.

but venti… well, he had always been rather affectionate. there was always a head laid on your shoulder, an arm wrapped around your waist, he was always just a touch away. the issue was, his nature never really changed when you got with your ex, to his displeasure. 

still, you didn't think much of it. venti had introduced you two in the first place, so you'd assumed that he was already used to his nature. there were some qualms that he would bring up, sure, but you were always quick to set a boundary and venti respected them, but there were some moments were he just… wouldn't. either way, everything had been going well between you two.

matter of fact, you two were set to move in together in just a few weeks time. 

yet, one morning you'd waken up to a message that utterly shattered you, and it was compromised of just a few words with no other explanation.

“our relationship is over.”

that's it. after over a year of being together, that's all you got. nothing more, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get anything else out of him. just the night before you had a beautiful day together. careful caresses and sweet kisses, proclamations of love and a promise to see each other tomorrow. it's all turned to dust since then.

you called him about a couple dozen times, sent him embarrassing voice mails of you sobbing your eyes out and begging him to just at least tell you what you did wrong. you talked to everyone you could, no one had an answer for you, at least not one that they were willing to share. 

but you came to find out that he also had blocked venti too from his life, only this time, without a message, a final note to leave him on.

that told you all that you needed to know, really, but the uncertainty of it all is what kills you.

you condense most of the story down for xiao, but you make sure he gets the important details. truth be told, he knows most of this already. what he didn't know, though, is that you're so clearly not over it, and even though he has no right to be, it hurts, bad. your voice is thick with regret, eyebrows furrowed and face scrunched up as if you're prodding at an old wound. you dig out a pit in his stomach alongside it.

the truth that you don't want to admit out loud is that a part of you truly believes that venti wouldn't have done something like that. they were friends before all of this, good friends, the reason why you two were introduced to one another in the first place. and you know venti, and so did he. he’s… a lot, yes, and maybe sometimes he takes some things too far, sure, but he wouldn't have done anything to your relationship.

no, he wouldn't have.

right?

that uncertainty is what makes your relationship so rocky. you trust him, you do, but then he crosses another boundary, goes too far again, and you just can't help but wonder whether he was innocent in this or not.

you don't want to think of it like that, but it's too late. the seed has been planted, and it's going to grow. you're holding a grudge that you don't even know is valid, letting it sprout too big. 

once upon a time he had been the one you confided in. your warmth, your comfort, your sun. he was like a cool breeze on a hot day.

you told him everything. you'd lean into his touch and pleased him with some of your own. now your moments of affection towards him is few and far in between. you know it's unfair, accusatory, even, but no matter what you do, you just can't shake the feeling that something is amiss. 

it's true that your ex had always been the type to rid himself of problems as soon as they occurred. anything that posed any sort of disturbance to him was quickly discarded of. but this is different. this was a relationship. you two were about to move in together, for god's sake, and yet you're tossed to the side like you're just another nuisance he doesn't want to deal with, and you don't even get the opportunity to know why. 

it pains you that you'll never know. you wish you could just get some closure. maybe then you could finally move on with yourself, but how were you supposed to, when celestia had been ripped right under your feet?

maybe he couldn't take it anymore. maybe he just got bored of you. maybe you did something, or maybe venti did. you'll never know.

the worst part is, you hope that xiao would relieve your stress, tell you that venti is probably innocent in all of this, but he doesn’t. instead he just hums. you suppose he doesn't know enough about the situation either to make a judgement, which is understandable.

“do you think you'll ever find out what happened?"

"knowing my ex... probably not. besides, i've already exhausted all my options by now, so there's really nothing much I can do." you sigh. what you wouldn't give to just get closure.

xiao nods, gnawing at his lip out of nervous habit. "can I ask, what do you think happened?"

"I... well, given that he got rid of venti at the same time he got rid of me, I can't help but think that maybe something happened between them. I just don't know what."

he hums. "yeah, that would make sense."

you don't want to ruminate over it any longer. "anyways, I'm sorry for rambling. I didn't mean to spill all my relationship woes to you." you cock your head back at him. "do I get to ask you a question now?"

he gives you a little smile, admittedly a little mischievous. "isn't it already time for you to go?"

your eyes widen, checking the time before realizing that you were certainly cutting it close. 

"ugh, you did that on purpose. you had me talk for forever just so that you could get out of answering my questions."

his smile only widens, eyes creasing a little in joy. "maybe I did."

you start to get up, shaking your head at him. "you owe me."

"yeah, I do. I'll make it up to you, I promise. I can drop you off, if you'd like.” 

you raise an eyebrow at him, now standing towards the entrance putting back on your coat and about to bend down to put on your shoes. “really? aren't you getting tired of me? we've been together all day.”

he shakes his head, getting up to join you. “no. I don't think we can be separated going forth. our connection is too deep to be severed now, sorry.”

you button your coat up, watching as he starts to grab his stuff, too. “huh. so does that mean I can drag you everywhere with me?”

"if you want to, I wouldn't mind."

"good. I'll take you up on that answer. come on, venti's gonna kill me if we don't head out now. and don't forget that you owe me."

——— NEW MESSAGES ———

venti: whereeeeee are you????? venti: it's almost nine already... venti: at least let me know if you're on your way or not. venti: )))))))))::::::::::: venti: are you okay? im getting really worried. you: almost there, sorry, didn't have service. ill talk to you soon.

———

you were late. 

you hadn't meant to be, seriously. when xiao had alerted you of the time, you two practically bolted out of the door, leaving so fast that somewhere along the way, you had lost your favorite scarf, the one that venti had given you. but you severely underestimated just how busy transportation would be on a day like today, and while you did enjoy the extra hour or so you had spent talking to xiao while traversing your way over to the tavern, you knew that your darling roommate would not be pleased by this development.

it's a theory that only gets proven correctly. as soon as you and xiao had stepped out of the train station, clocks showcasing that it was way past the time you were supposed to arrive, you had received a phone call from a distressed venti. in a quivering, upset voice, he inquired as to where you were, growing more and more impatient at how long it's been taking for you to arrive. he's worried, too, that something might've happened to you during your meeting with alatus, but you're quick to reassure him, telling him that you're almost there, just a few minutes away, and that you'd be there in no time. 

and true to your word, you were standing in front of one of the oldest buildings in your town in no time. 

it's been long since you've paid a visit to the angel's share— what was once a place you frequented perhaps weekly, for venti’s sake, was now totally abandoned by you. you feel like all you've been doing today is take a trip down memory lane. 

a familiar face greets you just outside of the beautiful old tavern, the bar owner himself, diluc. his flaming red locks of hair were tied back, and he's adorned in his usual vest and business pants, although you take note of the way his eyes are messily lined with a purposefully smudged black eyeshadow. his arms are folded over his chest, taking a bit of leisure time away from the party just outside of the tavern to get some much needed fresh air.

you're sure that his bartending skills are being put to the test with the sheer amount of alcohol that gets ordered on a night like this, even if it's not as jammed pack as it usually is.

you two were closer, once, back before everything that happened, happened. 

out of all the people you'd distanced yourself from, diluc was the one you saw the least around campus or events or things of that matter— being a bar owner and in law school takes up pretty much all of your time, as it seems— which was probably for the best, given the circumstances.

his eyes land on you as you walk up to the entrance. he raises his eyebrows, admittedly caught off guard by your reappearance, the first time he'd seen you in awhile.

“[name],” he calls out to you, garnering your attention.

you used to frequent the tavern not long ago. wherever venti was, you were almost always in tow. you were the more responsible one of the two, always keeping venti in check from drinking more than he could handle. now in days, nothing is stopping him from downing every glass his mora could get his hands on. as a business man, he can't say he's too upset about it. as his friend, on the other hand… well, it's nice to you again, nonetheless.  

“hey, diluc,” you say, walking up to him with a greeting. 

“huh. I'm surprised to see you make a comeback.”

“yeah, I know. you should thank venti for that, he did some pretty good convincing to get me to come.”

“my amazing drinks weren't convincing enough?”

he gives you a once over. 

“interesting costume. you look nice.”

you're not sure if the first sentence is genuine, but you think the second may be. you flash him a smile. 

“thanks. venti says every bard needs a wandering traveler to accompany them on their adventures, or something like that. so, where's yours? shouldn't the host of a halloween party be the main one dressed up?”

“I am in costume, actually. I'm bruce wayne.” 

you nod, taking a look back at the black eyeshadow. “ah, that makes sense,” you chuckle.

it's tense between you two, but he does a good job at pretending like it's not, a skill he's picked up from bartending. “I didn't know you'd be coming tonight until venti told me. speaking of which, he's been waiting for you.”

“ah, yeah, sorry. I'm assuming you had to take care of him in my absence, hm?”

he nods his head in disappointment. you don't even know the half of it, he thinks.

“give me a heads up next time you go on a date. I need to know when to stock up on extra liquor so that venti doesn't run through all of my stock in one night.”

you're taken a little aback by his wording. “date…?” you don't understand what he meant by that, until you realize he was referring to xiao. ah, diluc had been mistaken. he had initially believed venti was so emotional tonight because you were seeing someone. turns out he was wrong.

“ah, no. this is my friend xiao. he's just dropping me off.”

xiao nods, grumbling out a greeting out of politeness. he

“ah, my apologies for the assumption. either way, it's nice to meet you, xiao. I've seen you around, but I don't believe we've properly met before.”

xiao folds his arms over his chest, looking away. “It's nice to meet you too. I've been here before, I just don't drink.” he says it low, as if the admission is shameful, but you don't get why. you used to do the same, it's pretty normal for people to remain sober around their friends. but then again, if xiao isn't there to drink, and he isn't there to hang out with other people, then what does he do when he's there? that makes you incredibly curious. you'll have to ask him that later. 

diluc nods in understanding. diluc knows just about everyone, even if they've never come into his bar. people talk. xiao was no exception, although if you asked him about xiao, he wouldn't be able to tell you much, apart from the fact that him having nothing to say is notable. just like now, he has no response to that, unsure what to think.

“well, I should get back to my duties. if you two were planning to drink tonight, you better head inside before your little bard sells me out.” 

“yeah, we should, thanks for the heads up. it’s nice to see you again.” 

diluc nods again, mumbling a little, ‘likewise.’ he turns around to head inside before stopping in his tracks, realizing he has something to tell you. he turns back around, calling out to you.

“oh, [name]?”

you hum at his call, urging him to continue. 

“I'm not sure if venti told you, but…”

he doesn't know the best way to say it, if there even is a best way to, so he just says it. 

“kaeya’s here.”

and judging by the way your eyebrows furrow at the mere sound of his name, venti hadn't. you don't say much, though he wasn't expecting you to, choosing to only nod and thank him before he waves you a sympathetic goodbye and goes inside.

you feel a tad bit sick to your stomach. your ex is here, tonight, but it's too late to head back home now, might as well just bite the bullet.

after bidding diluc goodbye, you have to take a moment to ground yourself, preparing yourself for the possibility that you may or may not see him tonight.

xiao flashes you a concerned look, picking up quickly on the situation. you don't look well, not all. you've spent months trying to avoid seeing him for the sake of your well-being, yet he's here tonight.

“are you sure you want to go inside?” he asks, worried about you. “you don't have to do anything you don't want to, you know that, right?” 

you nod your head, thankful for xiao's nurturing over you. “it's… it's fine. we're already here. besides, I probably won't even see him. we can head inside, no worries.” 

you didn't know it then, but you had jinxed yourself.

either way, despite his qualms about the situation, xiao follows you inside, deciding that he'd prefer to be with you just in case you need him. it's funny, honestly. he reminds you of the legends of the yakshas who would watch over liyue. you have your own personal adepti watch dog.

as you make your way through the tavern, you realize that venti likes to over exaggerate. 

you thought that you'd get to be able to fade into the background like you usually do at events venti strings you along at, but you're too surrounded by old familiar faces. you can't help but think again, for sure this time, that this is venti's way of reacclimating you into your old life.

nonetheless, the tavern is real pretty, a welcomed distraction away from your fears. homey, too, especially because of its age. to your pleasant surprise, diluc's gone a little more heavy on the decorating than you'd expect him to. to be fair, though, diluc has always taken great care of this little tavern that was passed onto him, especially when it came to sharing it with his close friends. the lights are dimmed and warm. there's orange fairy lights and spider webs and garlands hanging from the walls and ceiling, a couple of fake bats and spiders and things of that nature, too. there's a few party games set up, even an apple bobbing station, and everyone inside is dressed up for the occasion. 

your heart tightens at the sight, coming to terms with all that you've lost out on.

as you walk through the tavern with xiao in tow following you like a shadow, you make out a couple of familiar faces, many of which people you lost touch with after the break up. they're all spread throughout, playing drinking games, dancing, and talking amongst each other. the bar is filled with idle chatter and light jazz playing in the background. a part of you wants to cower away in hopes that no one sees you. your eyes naturally scan for a particular face in the crowd hoping you wouldn’t (and would, truth be told) make contact with one particular face, but luckily for you he’s nowhere to be seen. 

halfway through you two wading through the crowd in search of your roommate, xiao stops in his tracks. you're quick to notice, turning his way, noticing the way his gaze is stuck on you. you're just about to ask if he's okay, but he begins speaking before you do. 

“[name], I—”

“[name]!” xiao is cut off by a familiar squeal of your name from behind you, your head snapping around to see your roommate. in front of you stands a grinning, drunken bard in his costume that matches yours, walking towards you with his arms extended out towards you expectedly. his cheeks and nose flushed a rosy red, and you can tell just by looking at him he's had plenty to drink already. 

“there you are.” each word is stretched out and sung as he wraps his arms around your waist. he's light and cheery, almost suspiciously so, which makes you start to worry, because you know you fucked up by getting here so late. he pulls back a little to take a good look at you, but he doesn't release your waist from his possession. “where have you been, cecilia?” the nickname is thick on his tongue, every syllable of the word delicately enunciated so that everyone who were to hear could be sure of what he said. “I've been waiting so long for you,” he giggles. 

his attitude, which was a jarring shift away from how he sounded over the phone, makes you nervous. what’s only worse is the way that he practically ignores xiao's presence, not even taking the time to ask about the guy accompanying you. it's nothing less than suspicious. you've always known that venti can get… weird whenever alcohol's in his system, somehow a little more touchy and clingy than how he is sober, but this felt more intentional than not. you take note of the way he doesn’t even so much as glance his way as he talks to you.

perhaps it's for the best, though, because if venti had acknowledged him, he'd see the nasty scowl that had been painted over his face. 

“you kept me waiting for so long.” it comes out more as a whine than anything else. “where were you, hm?” 

“venti.” you mumble out, beginning to pull away, nudging him to look at the one he has ignored. 

“oh!” he untightens his grip on your waist so that he could follow your motion over towards xiao's direction.

they make eye contact with one another, finally. 

“I'm so sorry, I didn't notice you there!” he does look apologetic, but you can't help but be wary of him even still when he gets like this.

“you must be who [name] was meeting today, right? I've taken that the meeting went well. I'm venti. I'm [name]’s closest friend. it's nice to meet you.” there's a big grin on his face as he introduces himself, easy to mistake for genuine.

you note that he does seem rather earnest, to your surprise. you can't help but feel guilty at your misjudgments of the situation. to be fair, venti had always been one to be visibly wary towards any new companion you've brought around him. maybe he's decided to be on his best behavior today, though. 

“and this is…”

he averts his gaze, repeating his name as a way of introducing himself. “xiao.”

he doesn't perform the same niceties that venti had, which you think might've put venti off. you don't know what to think of the situation. perhaps this is just xiao's personality towards strangers showing through, but you know that venti wouldn't see it like that.

there's some underlying tension. you don't know why but you can see it, almost taste it, even. it makes you nervous. it's like they're playing ping pong with one another, each word exchanged is just another volley of unease. 

“xiao, huh? I feel like we've met before. you seem so familiar. I think I know you.”

he mumbles xiao's name over and over again to himself, trying to rack his brain. xiao. where has he seen him from? it's just at the top of his tongue.

neither of you notice the way that xiao's eyes widen a little, skin growing clammy as he gets nervous. fuck. you were far too focused on venti to had noticed.

it turns out, though, that you're xiao's savior tonight, because you interject before your embarrassment gives you a heart attack.

“xiao was just dropping me off.”

venti is taken aback, his eyes creasing in shock. “you're going already? why don't you join us? I don't mind the extra company.”

“venti,” you try to pause him, but you can see him begin to really, really like the idea. “no, seriously! the more the merrier, right?” he clings on harder to your arm, leaning in even more so to your touch. “I’d love to get to know my darling roommate's secret admirer more. I’ll get us all a bottle to share.”

he starts to drag you further into the tavern before you halt him. 

“venti—”

xiao is quick to cut you both off before you even get a chance to speak, beating you to it.

“it's fine, I was just about to leave.” 

you both turn to him. he stands there, almost expressionless. you can't read him, unsure if he declares it as an objection, out of annoyance, or if he really has planned to go all along. you realize now that even though you've spent all day with him, you still know little about xiao and the ways in which he expressed himself. 

venti's face contorts into one of disappointment. “oh no, really? I would've loved the chance to get to know you. maybe another time, then?”

xiao narrows his eyes at him, nodding slowly. “right,” he responds. “another time would be best.” 

xiao moves to start leaving, but you pause him in his tracks. “wait,” you exclaimed, just loud enough for him to hear you over the ambience of the tavern. you call out his name, placing a hand on his shoulder to make him still, causing xiao to turn. 

in an instance, that guarded demeanor he put up while conversing with venti slips away right in front of you, his eyes lighter than before.

you just wanted to give him a proper goodbye before he left. “I had a good time tonight. it was really nice meeting you, again. I liked talking to you, and… I'd really like if we could be together in the future.”

he smiles at you. it's small, subdued, but it's there, and it's all for you. he feels incredibly flattered, more than you'd ever know, but he thinks the way his cheeks turn a rosy red that you can get the picture.

“I really enjoyed being with you today too. I'll talk to you later. if you ever need me, just reach out. I'll be here for anything.”

you smile big as you watch him go. “bye, xiao.” 

you turn back around to see venti staring at the ground, arms folded over his chest as his eyebrows are furrowed. like xiao, though, his demeanor instantly changes the moment he locks eyes onto you, becoming much more cheery than he was just seconds prior. 

“all done? that's great! we can head inside now and have some fun, yeah? you've seriously kept me waiting.” he laughs, but it doesn't reach his eyes, which look almost misty and clouded over. his pretty eyes, which are usually a bright turquoise, are now a deep grey.

venti takes you to one of the few tables that were still vacant. there's a bottle of wine that awaits you two. you assume that he's been sitting here awhile, given that it's already half empty. it didn't take a genius to know that venti had already downed a concerning amount of glass after glass tonight. he asks if you want a glass yourself. you decline, not yet in the mood to drink, not when you feel a little uneased. ‘more for me!’ he had giggled before he poured himself another.

he swirls the blood red liquid around in his glass, one arm on the table propping up his head in his palm. he takes a languished sip, the slowest he's drunken anything all night. he hums at the flavor, almost purring. he simply just cannot get enough of it.

it's quiet, for a moment.

“so, how did it go?” he's asks, suspiciously sweetly. “tell me all of the juicy details.” 

you shift in your seat out of discomfort. you can't read venti right now either, can't tell if he's being playful, or pointed.

“it was…” you think of an answer to give him, but you're more preoccupied by your worry. “venti, are you doing alright?” 

he quirks his head at your question. “yeah, of course. why wouldn't I be?” he doesn't sound very convincing.

your mouth bibs open and close, unsure of what to say. dang, this must be how venti had felt last night when you were trying to maneuver away from his line of questioning. it feels weird being in this side of the fence this time.

“I'm really sorry for being late, ven.”

he waves you off, refiling his cup. “oh, it's fine. mistakes happen. don't worry about it. the point is you're here now, right? the night is still young.”

he tries to sound earnest, but all he does is come off as defeated. you swallow thickly. “you sounded really upset on the phone, though. are you sure you're alright?”

he waves you off again, shaking his head. “like I said, it's fine. you're here now.” he repeats himself. you can't help but wonder if he's reassuring you, or himself. “there's no need to worry. I understand. besides, I wasn't expecting much from you anyways.”

I wasn't expecting much from you anyways, you repeat the words in your head. they echo over and over again, each repetition hurting just as much as the last.

ouch.

“what's that supposed to mean?” you say.

“I just meant that, given your recent track record, I knew better than to expect things to do smoothly today, that's all.” 

“my track record?” you repeat, growing more and more upset by the second.

“oh, you know what I mean. ever since you and kaeya ended things, you haven't been there for me as much whatsoever. I'd invite you to things, you wouldn't show up, I'd get my hopes up. it's nothing new.” he tries to play it lighthearted, at first, but the more he spoke and the more he thought about the past few months, the more his resolve started to decompose. it's like a kettle finally boiling over after having been placed on the stove for far too long.

“venti, I tried my best, seriously. I did get caught up in talking to xiao, that's true, but I tried to rush over as soon as I could. everything was running late, though, so it took us awhile to get here. I'm sorry I'm late, I really am.” you too, lose your composure.

“a-and I know that, know that I've been more absent these past couple of months, but you have to understand where I'm coming from.” 

he taps his foot on the ground, arms crossed against his form as he stares at the wooden flooring. he's not sure if he believes you, as much as he wants to. he knows that you were never particularly excited about the party, and having you come in with someone else was just a pinch to the gut.

“understand where you're coming from?” he repeats the phrase like it's ridiculous, adding more salt into the wound. his cheery demeanor has now long been gone.

“do you understand where I'm coming from, [name]? you've distanced yourself from me out of no where, and you can't even tell me what it is that I did for you to decide to toss me aside.”

his lips, too, quiver, his entire body beginning to shake like a leaf caught in a squall of rain.

“I'm not the reason kaeya broke up with you, you know.” he mumbles it out, seemingly out of left field, but he knows that this is what started this all. 

that's the last thing you hear before you stand up abruptly.

“I think I'm gonna step outside. I'm not really sure if I want to be here anymore.” 

your voice is quiet and meek, almost inaudible over the sounds of the party, but it's just loud enough for the bard, your bard, to hear. he tries to stand up with you, instantly regretting what he had said, but you're already quick to walk away. 

“[name], wait!”

for once, you don't turn back around, heading out from the way you came in and stepping back into the darkness of the night. 

you had thought that you were doing good, but maybe you were just a worst friend than you thought.

———

venti couldn't find you, no matter where he searched.

you two were separated for the rest of the night. what was once a night he had been looking forward to since the very moment you agreed to come with him had quickly turned bitter. and he's certain that it's all his fault.

he regretted his words from the moment that he watched you walk away with that pained look in your eye that you tried to hide from your friends. it took all his willpower to not immediately chase after you, but he knew that you two needed the distance. still, he wonders if he should've. much later, when he thinks back on it, he wishes that he did. 

the ache of not being with you right then had hurt.

venti could drum up a crowd anywhere he could, and it wasn't hard to surround himself with people he could have fun with. yet, even surrounded by people that he loved, he felt hopelessly empty, a feeling he had tried throughout the entire night with glass after glass of whatever diluc had in stock. he's not a light weight, far from it, but he knows that he's truly tested his own limits tonight. he had fun, of course, but that dull ache just wouldn't budge, no matter how he tried to cope.

he shouldn't have said what he said.

by the end of the night, he couldn't take it anymore, despite how best he tried to keep his emotions in tact. after bidding his sweet friends farewell, he tried to find you again, stumbling through the crowd in hopes that you were still around.

he asked around to a few of the people he saw talking to you tonight, only for him to find out that, to his grave disappointment, you had long been gone already. he didn't hesitate to head back home after that, hitching a ride alongside a few others from one of his more responsible, sober friends. 

the first thing he does when he stumbles back into your shared home right after stripping himself of his shoes and the heavy coat that weighed against his shoulders was call out to you. your name echoes in the emptiness of the house, and despite his hopeful demeanor, he knew after the nth time of calling out for you and being met with nothing but silence that you were no where to be found. 

he had stumbled back into his room, phone tucked between his head and his shoulder as he tries calling you while stripping himself of his costume, trying to change into something more comfortable. by the time he makes it into a tee and some pajama shorts, he'd already had called you around nine times, the ringer going off for it’s full duration without any response. 

with a desperate groan, he makes his way over to your room, feet freezing underneath the cool tiles as he shuffles his way over. as a last resort, he knocks on the door to your room. he does it gently, at first, giving you a moment to answer, but still, there was no response, not even after he bangs on it with a little more fever, a little more desperately.

he stands there for a moment just thinking. his eyes are a little glossed over, and he's seriously on the brink of tears at this point. all he wants is you, but you're gone. 

he decides, in his yearning, to let himself inside.

his hand grabs onto the door knob and twists. the lights are off and it feels unbearably cold. it's now that he finally accepts your absence.

it's too hard to stand at this point. he has a raging headache coming on, and his emotional state is only making it worse. he takes a seat on your bed, not even bothering to turn the lights on. he dials your number once more, biting on his finger nails as he hears the phone ring.

ring.

ring.

rinnnnnnngggg.

“hey, this is [name]. I'm not here right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you soon.”

beep. 

he just wants to cry, feeling unbelievably frustrated. his lip quivers as he decides to leave a voice mail.

“hey, I'm home now. where are you? can you call me back when you get the chance? I know you're mad at me, and trust me, you have every reasoning to be, but please, just tell me that you're okay, please.” 

he stares at his phone for a minute, hoping that you'd call him back. he's losing hope by the second. 

and then, like a final hail mary, his phone buzzes, illuminating as a notification displays itself. it's from you.

you: I'm fine. 

it's all you say, and yet he can't help but feel relieved. he can tell you don't want to speak to him, understandably so, but at least he has assurance that you're doing fine. he’ll worry about the details later. 

he feels undoubtedly silly. yes, you were late, but it's a party, who cares? it's not that big of a deal, of course not. and if what you said about the traffic was true, then he really cannot fault you. either way, he wasn't truly upset about that. disappointed, yes, of course, but what has really been the thing to have disturbed him was that shadow that lingered behind you. 

xiao. he knows him, he knows he does, but he just can't place from where. it's at the top of his brain, but with the way it's pulsating right now, he can't think a single thought straight. he'll just have to figure it out in the morning. 

he knows you don't belong to him. that's not what he wants, he wants you to be free to do whatever it is you pleased, but he just wants you to do it in a manner that doesn't make him feel so… casted aside. you hadn't even told him about your meeting with him until last night, and now all of a sudden you come late to the party he invited you to with him? 

still, he'd tell you that he were sorry if he could, and he'd seriously mean it in all earnest. he'd even beg on his hands and knees for your forgiveness, but he can't shake the feeling that just that one sentence had cut too far for the wound he made to be fixed with just a few bandages. 

he slumps down into your bed, taking claim and solace over the warm landscape.

he doesn't care how you find him at this point. 

he just needs you, bad. so without another care in the world, he slips himself in, just like he has for years.

oh, your bed is always so warm. your blankets swallow him whole, and he can't help himself but to take one of your pillows and press it against his chest, tucking the plush form under his chin as if he were holding you. he's engulfed in your scent; it's like you're pulling him into a hug. 

but nothing can replicate the warmth that radiates off of you. you used to let him hold you just like this, with his head tucked into the sweet crevice of your neck and your hand tangled in the soft length of his hair. that hasn't been 

he feels a little vindicated right now. he always knew that that relationship wouldn't work out. part of him wishes he wasn't right.

nevertheless, he tries to rest, eyes fluttering shut, but the headache he's taken on feels like it's banging an angry fist against his skull. he tries to ignore it at first, sinking into the mattress as he tries to let the comfort of being surrounded by the remnants of you take him away, but the pain is just unbearable, simply too much to ignore. 

with a groan of pain, he turns on his side, eyes still shut closed as he reaches over to your bedside table. his hand, somewhat clumsily, lacking the usual dexterity of his sober self, shuffles open the first drawer, where he knows you usually keep over the counter medicine. 

he's gone through this exact drawer dozens of times (sometimes unbeknownst to you, if he's being completely honest), so much so he could do it blind. you keep a bottle of pain killers more towards the side closest to the bed within the cavity so that it's easy to find in case of situations like this.

he reaches in, instinctively moving his hands towards it's usual spot, yet to his surprise, the very first thing he feels isn't the cylindrical shaped life safer, but instead… a folded up sheet of paper. 

this oddly shocks him. you don't usually keep any documents in here. maybe it's sentimental?

venti likes to believe that he isn't nosy, yet he can't help himself to take just a little peak. his need for something to quell the drumming pain in his head is superseded by his curious desire, grasping onto the delicate thing. he musters up just enough energy to sit up, clicking back on your bedside lamp to better absorb what it is he has in his hands.  

it's a letter addressed to you, dated several months back, seemingly one letter of many. he unfolds it. it's written on one of those sheets of papers specifically meant to be used for letters, with a decorative border outlining the sheet. he skims it lightly, eyes catching on both the greeting, “dear [name],” and the closure, “...from alatus.”

he rereads the name out loud, eyebrows furrowed, mumbling it out in a slurred speech.

“alatus…”

alatus, alatus, alatus. he repeats the name a few more times in his head.

suddenly, he finds that he's sobered up.

——— NEW MESSAGES ———

UNKNOWN: hey. diluc gave me your number. UNKNOWN: I gave it some thought after we talked tonight. I'm open to talking to you soon.  UNKNOWN: I hope you got home safe. let me know how you're doing whenever you get the chance.

[chibubird]

The one and only Yatagarasu!

[yoohyeon]

I barely slept today and I feel like I won’t be able to sleep again tonight cause my nose is BURNING

[jellofish-plant]

Proof of Existence

Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader Summary: You were used to waiting up for Jason after patrol, but you weren’t expecting Robin to be the one to climb through your window instead. Damian Wayne is determined to prove that Jason was lying about having a girlfriend, and unfortunately, that means invading your apartment at an ungodly hour. Things only escalate when he calls in reinforcements, and by the time Jason actually arrives, he finds you in the middle of a full-blown Wayne family interrogation.

Warnings: Fluff, sleep deprivation, Batfamily chaos, Jason being grumpy but soft

[Masterlist]

You sighed, rubbing your eyes as you glanced at the clock. 2:37 AM.

Jason was late. Again.

You weren’t exactly worried he was Red Hood, after all but you hated waiting up for him, exhaustion pulling at your limbs while the city lights flickered outside your window.

You barely had time to close your eyes before you heard a rustling noise near the fire escape. Immediately alert, you tensed, but before you could reach for your phone, the window slid open.

A small, caped figure landed silently in your living room.

You blinked. “You’re not Jason.”

Damian Wayne Robin, Gotham’s tiniest menace straightened up, arms crossed over his chest as he scrutinized you with a critical gaze.

“So you are real,” he muttered.

You stared at him, still half-asleep. “Excuse me?”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Todd claims he has a girlfriend. I assumed it was a delusion. But…” He took a step closer, inspecting you like a rare specimen. “You exist.”

“Uh… yeah?” you said slowly, watching as he started pacing around the apartment.

“This is unfortunate,” he muttered to himself.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “It’s almost three in the morning, Damian. Did you break in just to confirm I’m not imaginary?”

“I could have waited for Todd to bring you to the Manor, but that would’ve taken forever.” Damian wandered over to the bookshelf, tilting his head as he scanned the titles. “Hmph. Your taste in literature is acceptable.”

“Oh, thank God, I was really losing sleep over that one,” you deadpanned.

Damian ignored you, already moving to your kitchen. He opened the fridge, scowled, then closed it again. “You don’t eat enough protein.”

You groaned, flopping onto the couch. “Jason is going to kill you when he finds out you’re here.”

“Tt. I doubt it.”

Unfortunately, before you could kick him out, he pulled a communicator from his belt.

“You’re not—”

Too late.

“Drake, come in. I have urgent news,” Damian said, voice completely serious.

There was a brief static crackle before a groggy voice responded. “Damian, it’s late. What could possibly—”

“She’s real.”

Silence.

Then—“No f**ing way.”*

You groaned loudly, covering your face with a pillow.

A few minutes later, your front door actually opened, this time with a key Tim Drake, still in his Red Robin suit but looking like he regretted every decision that led him here.

“Oh my God,” Tim breathed, staring at you like he’d just seen a ghost. “Jason actually has a girlfriend.”

“Why does everyone think I’m fake?” you demanded.

Tim grinned. “Because Jason refuses to let us meet you. Honestly, I thought you were just an excuse for him to leave family dinners early.”

Damian huffed. “As if Todd would be clever enough for that.”

You sighed. “Okay. Great. Mystery solved. You guys can leave now—”

Knock knock.

Oh, come on.

The door opened again, and in strolled none other than Dick Grayson—Nightwing himself—looking far too excited for this hour.

“Ohhhh, this is fantastic,” he said, beaming as he took in the scene. “We finally have proof! Jason’s not making it up!”

“I hate all of you,” you grumbled, pulling Jason’s discarded hoodie over your head as if that could make them all disappear.

“Are you being held against your will?” Dick asked, only half-joking.

“No, but I will commit a crime if you don’t let me sleep.”

Before Dick could respond, the window slammed open again.

“What the hell is going on?”

Jason stood on the fire escape, mask half-off, hair a mess, and murder in his eyes.

“Oh, hey, Jason,” Tim greeted casually. “Nice place.”

Jason’s eye twitched. “Are you—why—” He ran a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. “It is three in the goddamn morning.”

“Yes, I noticed,” you said dryly.

Jason turned to you, taking in the way you looked tired, wrapped in his hoodie, blanket half-falling off the couch. His jaw tightened. “Baby, why are you still up?”

You gestured vaguely to the three idiots in your apartment. “Ask them.”

Jason’s glare could’ve set the building on fire. “What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Confirming she’s real,” Damian said simply.

Jason groaned. “Are you kidding me? You—” He pointed at Damian. “Go home. You—” Now at Tim. “Stop enabling this. And you—” Dick raised his hands before Jason could finish.

“Relax, Jaybird,” Dick said, smirking. “We’re just excited to meet the girl you’ve been hiding.”

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate all of you.”

“Are you two really dating?” a new voice cut through.

Stephanie Brown Batgirl was standing by the window now, her blonde hair messy from a night’s patrol. She crossed her arms, raising a brow at you. “I’m sorry, but I had to see for myself. I really thought it was just some weird ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ thing.”

“Oh my God,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m just here for the popcorn,” Duke Thomas The Signal grinned from the doorway, joining the chaos with his own brand of enthusiasm.

Jason stood frozen, arms crossed, looking like he was about to explode. “This is not happening.”

“Oh, it’s happening,” Dick teased, leaning in and nudging Jason. “You can’t hide her anymore.”

Jason groaned, rubbing his face. “I swear to God…”

“Jason, relax,” you said, trying to calm him down, but your voice still laced with amusement. “Your family’s just a little... excited.”

Jason turned to you, his expression softening just a little. “I’m sorry, baby.” He pulled you close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I didn’t expect them to turn up like this, but…” He shot his family one last glare before pulling you closer. “I think I need some alone time with my girlfriend now.”

Everyone groaned in unison.

“You know what, fine,” Tim sighed, pushing himself off the wall. “We’ve gotten the proof we need. No more interruptions. You two have a good night.”

“You guys are the worst,” you muttered, laughing as Jason huffed beside you.

And when they finally filed out, leaving you alone with Jason, you sank back into his arms, letting the chaos of the Batfamily fade into the background.

Jason chuckled softly, kissing the top of your head. “Well, at least they like you.”

You smirked. “Yeah, I think I’ve officially been inducted into the Batfamily now.”

Jason snorted. “They’ll never leave us alone again, will they?”

“Not unless we’re really convincing at family dinners,” you teased.

Jason sighed, but there was a fond look in his eyes. “Maybe we’ll make a run for it next time.”

You laughed softly. “Sounds like a plan.”

[alastor-simp]

Alastor x Reader - Sleeping On His Lap

Here is my attempt at a Alastor x reader fanfiction. Took me awhile to kinda get into his character so please don't be mad if Alastor seems a bit off. Enjoy!

Sigh, it was another eventful day at the Happy Hotel, or Hazbin Hotel as it was now called as a certain deer demon decided to change the name. You had spent all day doing certain tasks around the hotel such as helping Charlie create posters for the hotel, clean the rooms with Nifty, break up the brawl between Vaggie and Angel Dust as he had pissed her off one too many times and organize the bar for Husk as he was passed out drunk. You could have refused to do these things, but you enjoyed helping people, so it made it all worth it.

You had started working at the hotel after you had saw Charlie singing on the 666 news about the hotel and redeeming demons, only for her idea to be made a laughing stock upon everyone who watched the broadcast. You actually had mixed feelings about the whole redeeming thing, seeing as you weren't sure if someone like you could be sent to heaven, despite not being a very big criminal during your time when you were alive, but apparently doing a little shoplifting is enough to send you a one way ticket to hell. Charlie's words did inspire you a little bit, so even if you felt that you couldn't be redeemed, others probably had a better chance, so you decided to head to the hotel and ask for a job after the broadcast was cut off from the brawl with Charlie and Katie Killjoy. You were hired in a split second and immediately pulled into a bear hug by Charlie, and then introduced you to the others.

Back to the present, you began to feel extremely exhausted from moving around everywhere, so you headed over to one of the rooms with the long couches so you could take a rest. Heading into one of the rooms, you peeped around and saw that no one was there, which made it better as you really needed some peace and quiet. Heaving a deep sigh, you sat down on the couch, turning and falling back, as you laid your body down, with your head facing the front of the couch. "What a long day", thinking to yourself as your eyes slowly began to close and you were lulled into a deep sleep.

**2 Hours Later**

As you were sleeping, you felt the sensation of someone petting your head, the soothing feeling had awoken you a bit, but you quickly fell back asleep at the warm touch. You could feel that you were holding something in your dreams, and you assumed it was one of the pillows on the couch, so you brought it closer to your face and nuzzled it. "Mm, smells nice ", as the scent from the pillow was making you more relaxed, as it reminded you of a being in the middle of a deep forest. After sleeping for 30 more minutes, you slowly began to open your eyes, and try to make out what was in front of you. Expecting to see a pillow, you saw red stripes in front of you, "Huh?" As you were still trying to make out what was in front of you, a loud voice interrupted your thoughts: "Ah, awake now are we?", said a static voice above you. Eyes opening wide, you looked up from your position and saw Alastor staring down at you with his trademark smile. Slowly, you began to piece together that you were laying on his lap, and nuzzled into his chest as you were sleeping. "AHHHH", jumping up from your position, you rolled off his lap, and your body fell to the ground as you stared at Alastor in shock, as he continued to look at you with his glowing eyes, amused at your reaction. "Um, h-how long was I sleeping on your lap?", you softly asked, as your face was red, but your eyes were showing fear, as you remembered that Alastor did not like to be touch, and you happened to hug him in your sleep. "HAHA, For quite a while, darling. It was a very busy day, I assume?", Alastor said as he placed his arm on the armrest of the couch, and his hand against his cheek, smiling even wider.

Nodding your head, you slowly got up from your position, and started apologizing to Alastor, eyes aiming towards the ground and fingers twiddling together. Alastor raised an eyebrow and wondered why you were apologizing, to which you answered that you had hugged him in your sleep, and that he made it very aware that he did not enjoy physical contact from someone unless he initiated it, feeling extremely bad if you made him uncomfortable. Listening to you, Alastor's smile relaxed to a small grin as he looked at you with gentle eyes. He did admit that he was not use to being touch by others, and was quite surprised from the sleep hug, but he didn't detest it as much coming from you, which boggled his mind completely. It must be due to your kind and innocent nature that made him react different around you, as he was used to more of the common riff raff being terrified of him or trying to battle in a turf war, but how you were with him, made his black heart melt.

Feeling that Alastor was upset as he didn't respond to your apology, you quickly excused yourself and began to head over to the door to leave. A loud SNAP was heard and before you knew it, you had been teleported back on to the couch, this time being seated on Alastors lap. "A-Al, what are you doing?!", your face began to become as red as his hair, while your eyes stared at Alastor in shock. Smiling at you, Alastor moved his hand to your chin and tilted your face up: "There is no need to apologize, darling. If I had been upset about you hugging me, you possibly w̩͉͍̱̍̂̉̊o̫̼̐̎̋͜u͚͌l̳̓d̠͉̗͋̔͞'̼̳̣̼͊̏̾̾t͜͝ ͕̱͐͠ḇ̅e̙͗ ͍͓͔̱͍͛̔͌͘͞a̝̜̘̎́͒ḽ͒í̱̙̈́v̧̌e̠͠ ̢̹̜́́̈̀ͅr̲͇̳̅̽͌i̩͈̒̅ĝ̲̦̎ẖ̛̳̲͙̀͌̽͘ͅt͉̅ ͖̞͍̞́̋͛͛ň͚̫̦́͂̿͟o̱͌w̡̕" he said, as his eyes flashed for a second into radio dials. "However! I am not opposed to be touched by you. So no need to apologize, my dear.", Alastor said as he continued to smile at you widely, but his glowing eyes were looking at you softly, letting you know that he was not angry with you. Feeling shy, you turned your head away from Alastor, muttering a soft okay, as your heart was beating rapidly. "Smile my dear!" Alastor said as he moved his hand from your chin to your cheek, to have you look at him again. Baring through the embarrassing situation, you gave Al a small smile, which pleased him. "You always over do it, darling. While Charlie and I appreciate your efforts at helping the hotel, it does no good to work yourself to the point of fatigue. If you are ever feeling exhausted and need a break, don't be hesitant to come find me, as my radio tower is open to you. Understand, my dear?" said Alastor, as he leaned closer towards you, making you flustered again.

Nodding your head was enough to let Alastor knew you understood as he chuckled, while sliding you off his lap, and as he stood up from the couch. "Now then, we should probably head back to the lobby before the others get worried about our lack of presence.", He said, as he straighten his coat out, while turning towards you, extending his hand out for you to take it. "Yeah we should", as you grabbed his hand, and made your way with him back to the lobby. You were still trying to process what just happened between you and Alastor, but you feel like you both have become much closer then before, and you didn't mind it one bit.

[rosygaze]

busy woman

pairing: johnny storm x assistant!reader

summary: you’re way too busy at your new job to even remember to eat sometimes. but you could spare a minute or two to pretend not to like it when johnny flirts with you. inspired by busy woman by sabrina carpenter!

word count: 3.9k+

note: help wanted part 2 is here! thank you for all the love on part 1 🫶🏻 i’ve been working on this for like three months and she’s finally here 🥹 i’m definitely planning more stuff for these two but i may need to see the movie before more parts come out lmao who knows! enjoy !!!

< prev part

“Excuse me. Sorry.” You weaved and dodged the hoard of busy employees rushing in different directions. With the looming deadline on the horizon, the facility resembled an ant colony more than an office. Each person had a single goal and that was to get that rocket up in space.

While you couldn’t solve a complicated equation or weld metal, you quickly learned that you were pretty good at being an assistant. You had already built a system and connections with other departments that made it easier for you to do your job. Sue seemed to like you, at least you hoped she did cause it’s only been a month and you realized that you really liked working here.

Currently, you were on your way to deliver the stack of folders in your arms. Across the floor, you spotted the long chalkboard filled with various symbols and numbers that you would probably never understand. Dr. Reed Richards stood at one end, a piece of chalk hovered over the board. You approached him.

“Dr. Richards?” He flinched a little as if you pulled him out of a number-induced trance. “Sorry to disturb you.”

“Ah, you didn’t. You saved me, actually. I needed a break. This equation’s been racking my brain for weeks now.” Dr. Richards crossed out a string of numbers and letters.

“It does look pretty tricky.”

“Tricky’s one way to describe it.” He rubbed his stubbled jaw while he stared at the board in thought.

“I don’t wanna keep you for too long. Sue wanted you to have these documents.” You handed him the stack of files. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly at the mention of his wife.

“Thank you.” He flipped through them and picked out a single folder. “Has she mentioned anything about tonight?” He glanced at you expectantly.

“She’s very excited for your date.” You grinned. Over the past few weeks, you’ve been a firsthand witness of Sue and Reed’s relationship. The sweet nothings they would mumble to each other when they thought you were out of earshot, the extra slip of paper slipped in between stacks of folders, the way they seemed drawn to each other in a crowd.

Definitely didn’t make you feel more single than you already were.

Nope.

“Great.” Dr. Richards smiled shyly. You tried to ignore how red his face had gotten. “You tell her I’ll be done in a few hours and that I promise to be on time.”

“I will.”

“You’re the best.” Dr. Richards turned back to his board and immediately started scribbling. You took that as your sign to go back to your desk. Again, you weaved and dodged the crowd to get back to your desk and get started on yet another task. You were listing down to-dos in your head when you spotted a man by your desk. You sighed and braced yourself for impact.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Jonathan Storm called out as he saw you approaching. He was leaning on the front of your desk. One leg crossed over the other, arms bracing his weight behind him. Big, handsome grin on his face.

“Johnny.” Your voice clipped as you walked around him. You started typing on your computer, trying to ignore him in hopes that he would leave you alone before he could see how flustered he had made you with two words and a smile.

“Busy?” He turned and put his forearms on the edge of your desk, eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

“Kinda.”

“Gunning for employee of the month?” Johnny picked up a pencil from your cup and started tapping it against the side of your monitor.

“Maybe.” You spared a glance at him. “Do you need anything from Sue?” You tried to divert the attention away from you.

“No, I don’t need anything from my dear sister today.” Johnny sighed and plopped down on the seat you kept in front of your desk for any visitors.

“Then what are you doing here?” You stopped your typing and you fully faced him.

“Wanted to see my favorite assistant.” He shrugged.

“I’m not your assistant.” You scoffed.

“No? Then I just wanted to see you.” A sly grin spread across his lips like the Cheshire cat. You blinked at him for a second, two. Allowing yourself to indulge in his attention until you remembered who he was, who you were, where you are.

You pulled your eyes away from his and looked down at your desk.

“Johnny… You can't say things like that to me.” You strained.

“Why not?” He asked you.

“Cause you work here.” You threw your hands up in exasperation. Could he really be this dense? “And I work here. For your sister, might I remind you.“

“What does that have to do with anything?"

“You can’t…you know.” You moved your hands in the air awkwardly.

“What?” He was goading you now, big brown eyes boring into yours.

“Flirt with me.” You said through your teeth.

“But I want to.”

“But you can’t.”

“You don’t want me to?”

“I-“

He had you cornered. Damn him.

“How about this? I’ll try my absolute best not to flirt with you.” You glared at him but he never wavered. He continued to blind you with that signature Storm smile. “And you can pretend not to like it. Deal?”

“Johnny.”

“Seems like a pretty sweet deal to me.” Johnny put his arms out as if to say ‘See?’. “Just as pretty as you are.” He added with a wink.

“Johnny!” You exclaimed. You couldn’t stop the flush that spread over your body even if you wanted to. Before you could tell him off again, you heard Sue’s voice calling you from inside her office. “This isn’t over.” You pointed a finger at him and narrowed your eyes.

“Oh, I hope not.” Johnny simply smirked and slid down on the chair as if he were lounging on the beach.

The keyboard clicked and clacked away as you typed out a report. The office had gotten quiet, people started leaving a couple of hours ago. Even Sue had passed by your desk and told you not to stay that late. You promised you wouldn’t. You just had a couple more things to do and you could call it a day.

But you thought about how you would save so much time tomorrow if you got a few more things done today. So here you were, neck aching and hands cramping, checking off yet another one of your to-dos.

You rolled your neck around to relieve some of the ache. You really needed to be more conscious of your posture.

“If you keep staying here this late, I think they’re gonna start charging you rent.” A voice echoed through your empty office, making you jump. Your relief turned into annoyance when you saw who it was.

“Johnny, you scared me!” You put a hand to your pounding chest.

“You’re working in a dark office all alone and you get scared by little old me?” Johnny dropped down in the seat in front of you again. “But, don’t you worry. Johnny’s here now and he’s gonna keep all the scary monsters away.”

“My hero.” You said dryly but a smile tugged on your lips. “Nothing better to do tonight?”

“Just keeping you company.” He shrugged. “And making sure you don’t stay here overnight. Do you realize how late it is?” You shook your head and checked your watch.

“It’s already 10pm?” You gasped. The nearest window to you was a couple of desks away so you didn’t realize just how late it had gotten. You swore you weren’t working that long.

“Didn’t see the sun setting?”

“Not really.” You mumbled sheepishly.

“Did you leave this desk at all today?” Johnny raised a brow at you.

“Yeah, Sue had me pick up some reports from her earlier.” To which you took to your desk, sat down, and typed out reports for.

“And?”

You rattled your brain. “And… I used the ladies’ room a couple of times.”

Johnny made a ‘tsk’ sound and plopped a brown paper bag on your desk. “Eat up, busy bee.”

“What is this?”

“Food.” He reached inside and tossed something your way. You awkwardly caught it and saw that it was a burger wrapped in parchment paper. “I'm pretty sure you haven't had anything to eat the whole day.”

“How’d you know that?” You said, voice barely over a whisper. Your stomach grumbled as if it remembered what hunger was. Meanwhile, Johnny was already digging into his own burger.

“Well, I’ve been watching you for a couple of weeks now. I know you get so focused on your work that you skip meals.” He picked up a fry from the bag and popped it into his mouth. “And when I saw your car in the parking lot, I figured you'd be in here for another hour or so, so I went and picked up some burgers for us. Lo and behold, here you are. Glued to your desk.”

You were quiet for a second. Since you started here, Johnny had been pestering you. He was nice, of course but he had a knack for catching you at your busiest and talking your ear off. He annoyed you most days, made you smile on others.

Today. Today, he made you smile. Johnny noticed that you were working late and brought you food. You could cry but you weren’t sure if it was because you were touched or hungry.

“You've been watching me? Stalker.” You unwrapped your burger and took a bite. He rolled his eyes at you.

“That's all you got? No ‘I love you, Johnny! You saved me from starving to death!’?”

“Thank you, Johnny. You saved me from starving to death.” You continued to eat your burger and looked Johnny dead in the eye.

“I think you got that first part wrong.” Johnny lifted his brows, expectantly. He wanted to hear the words ‘I love you, Johnny’ come out of your mouth. Fat chance.

“Mm,” You moaned exaggeratedly around your burger, making Johnny shift in his seat. “This is so good. It wiped my memory. Who are you again?”

Johnny chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Go eat your burger.”

A-choo!

You sneezed into a wad of tissue that you’d crumpled into your hand. You wiped your nose and stuffed it into your skirt pocket. There was a bug going around and you did everything in your power to keep it away from you. You took your vitamins, overloaded yourself with fruits and vegetables, stayed far away from anyone who tried to clear their throat.

And yet. It got you.

You sniffled miserably and went back to taking notes on the engine test Sue asked for. It was hard to focus when you had a pounding headache and a round of coughs threatening to spill out. Shake it off.

“You feeling okay, hon?” A gruff voice asked. You turned and saw the kind, worried eyes of Benjamin Grimm.

“I’m fine, Ben.” Your voice was hoarse.

“That runny nose and wad of tissues sticking out of your pocket says otherwise.” He pointed a finger down.

“That’s nothing.” You shoved your hand in your pocket and pushed everything down.

“If you say so.” He nudged your arm with his elbow. “Take it easy at least.”

You smiled gratefully. Ben looked rough and mean on the outside, piercing blue eyes and a mouth of a sailor to match. You were pretty intimidated by him when you were first introduced but you quickly learned that he was just a big sweetheart once you got to know him.

The two of you continued your work. Ben was helping you make sense of all the technical jargon. After a couple of minutes of note taking, your vision started to get hazy and you wobbled on your heels.

“Okay, let’s take a break.” Ben stated. He gripped your arm and gently pulled you down to a nearby chair. You wanted to protest but he cut you off. “No, no. Sit down. I’ll get you some water.”

You tried to call out to him but that round of coughs you were suppressing finally made itself known. When you were done, you sunk down in your chair. I hate this. You thought. God, you missed the days when your nose wasn’t clogged.

“Hey, so I stayed in last night. Crazy, I know. Who am I?” You groaned. Johnny was gonna rip you a new one. You sat up and put on the most “I’m not sick!” expression you could muster, even slapped your cheeks a few times to get some color back in them. Johnny strolled up, carefree as always. “Anyways, I watched that movie you were talking about last week and- whoa, wait.” He stopped in front of you. Johnny scanned your face with an intense gaze.

“Hi, Johnny.” You said, sweetly, but he just narrowed his eyes at you.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned.

“Nothing’s wrong. How was the movie?” You tried to distract him.

“No, no, no. You look pale.” Johnny put one hand on the back of your chair and bent down to be closer to you. Your face was heating up. You were going to chalk that up to the fever you were probably developing…and not because of his face so close to yours. “Did you forget to eat again?”

“I had lunch.”

“She’s sick!” You looked over Johnny’s shoulder and saw Ben coming back with a glass of water in hand.

“Ben!” You groaned.

“Sick?” Johnny immediately grabbed your face with both hands. “You’re burning up, sweetheart.” Johnny’s voice was soft. His thumb brushed your cheek with a featherlight touch. You leaned into his palm for a fraction of a second. Blame it on your flu-ridden brain.

“Johnny, it’s okay.” You matched his tone.

“What the hell are you doing here? Go home.” He gave you an incredulous look. He took one of his hands away from your face and reached back for the glass of water from Ben. “Drink.”

You took big gulps. You didn’t realize how dehydrated you’d become. “I’m not going home.”

“I’m taking you home.” Johnny put his hands on your forearms and pulled you up gently but firmly.

“You don’t know where I live, Johnny. And I’m not leaving.” You shook your head which was a big mistake. You felt light-headed again and wobbled. Johnny gripped you even tighter while glaring at you.

“Sue!” Ugh. You heard your boss’ heels clack behind you. You turned your head much slower this time. “Your assistant has the plague and refuses to go home.”

“The plague?” Sue raised a brow.

“He’s being dramatic.” You corrected him. Sue put the back of her hand to your forehead and tsk-ed.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve given you the day off.” She crossed her arms.

“We have so much to do.” Your argument was getting weaker every time.

“It can wait til tomorrow. Today, all I want you to do is to rest until you feel better.” She pointed at you.

“But-“

“No buts.”

Fight’s over.

“Fine.” You conceded with a pout.

“I’ll drive her home.” Johnny put an arm around your shoulder and guided you to a walking pace.

“Feel better, hon!” Ben called out to you. You waved back to him.

“Did you like the movie though?” You asked Johnny.

“Loved it.”

The copy machine was slower than usual today and you were getting impatient. You had a pile of 30-page reports that needed 4 copies by tomorrow morning and you were only at number 3. It didn’t help that you picked the wrong pair of heels today and they were pinching your toes. Never, ever wear pointy heels at work.

You fed another piece of paper through the machine and put your weight against it while you tried to alleviate some of the pain on your feet. You rolled your ankles a few times on each side while grabbing the warm piece of paper and placed it with the rest of the copies. That was the last of copy 3. You pulled out the original pages and started the process one last time.

Sighing, you put the first page in. You looked around the office. It was pretty empty at this time, but there were a few stragglers that you knew would start packing up soon. The machine whirred while you took a headcount of who was still here. John, William, Shelley, Johnny….

Wait.

Your eyes snapped back to your desk where a certain blonde was in his usual seat. A smile tugged on your lips and you may or may not have started speeding up your copying. Once the final page shot out onto the tray, you gathered all of your papers and walked back to your desk.

Johnny was mindlessly fiddling with the pens you kept in a mug on your desk. He had his back to you so you would be able to surprise him for once.

“I think people are starting to notice that you spend more time at my desk than you do at yours.” You giggled when he flinched.

“Well, the view here is much better than mine.” He recovered quickly and shot you an easy smile. You shook your head, letting the flirty comment wash over you.

You pulled out the puncher and punched holes through the reports. You opened your box of paper fasteners and started to arrange your copies into their respective folders. Sparing a glance at Johnny, you saw that he was tapping a beat on your desk with a pensive expression on his face.

“Is everything alright?” You asked.

“Why wouldn't it be?” Johnny tried to keep it light but you heard the edge in his voice.

“You're just…” You dragged, trying to find the right words. “Quieter than usual.”

“‘s been a long day.” He let out a long breath. Johnny’s brows furrowed and the corner of his lips turned downwards.

“I heard you went out into the field today.” You fastened the last report into its folder and gave Johnny your full attention.

“Keeping tabs on me?” A ghost of a smirk graced his lips.

“Part of the job.” You shrugged. “Did something happen?”

“I’m grounded.” Johnny said after a beat.

“What?”

“I’m not allowed to fly.” He stopped his drumming and placed his palm flat on the wood.

“Why would they do that?” Johnny was one of the most competent pilots in the program. It made no sense to suspend him like this.

“You know that the new jets came in this week, right?” You nodded to answer his question. “Well, they asked me to test those bad boys. See how fast they’d go. And that’s what I did.”

“That doesn’t explain why they’d ground you though.” You tilted your head in confusion.

“Well, they only wanted me to go up to a certain speed but I knew they could go faster. I could go faster.”

“Did you?”

Johnny smiled, the first genuine one of the day. “I did. Going that fast. Nothing better than that. You just feel so…free.”

“That sounds amazing.” You couldn’t help but smile with him.

“It was. Until I landed.”

“What did they do?”

“Insubordination. That’s what they called it. The jet was fine, by the way. It was built to go that fast. The admiral just has a stick up his ass. I let him know that too.” Johnny said through gritted teeth, hand curling into a tight fist. You could see a flush of red on his cheeks and his breaths getting shallower.

“How long ‘till you can fly again?” You wanted to reach out and touch his hand but you held yourself back.

“A month.” He scoffed.

“Okay.” You sighed in relief. “You’ll still be able to join the launch.”

“Ha, they can try to replace me.” Johnny jabbed a finger on his chest. “They won’t find someone else.”

“Oh, I know. The team wouldn’t let that happen.” You paused. “Neither would I.”

Johnny’s eyes crinkled. “Going soft on me now, sweetheart?”

“Just cause you’re all mopey today.” You teased. “I am sorry, Johnny.”

“Ah, it‘s not your fault.” He waved a hand at you. You frowned.

“But you’re upset and you’re my friend so still. I’m sorry.” You rambled.

“I’m your friend?” He asked, sounding way too happy about it.

“I think so. Do you think we are?” Your voice got quiet, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“I do.” Johnny nodded.

A warm, fuzzy feeling came over you. You didn't know when it happened, but Johnny had become a staple in your life. It was so easy to talk to him. You found yourself drawn to him in a crowd, saving seats for each other every time there was an office-wide meeting. Then of course, you found yourself here on most days. Sitting at your desk, talking about everything and nothing. Some days, Johnny would just sit there and wait for you to finish working. He’d talk your ear off but you realized it was just to get you to stop working and go home.

Johnny was a friend. And a pretty good one at that.

“Do you wanna go get something to eat? I think we both need to get out of this place.” You logged off your computer and shut it down.

“Asking me out?”

“As a friend.” You gave him a pointed look.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He played along, nodding sarcastically. “Unfortunately, I’ve got plans tonight so I’m gonna need a raincheck on that.” A part of you was disappointed but you brushed it off.

“That’s okay. Next time?” You slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Next time. But, thank you.” Johnny locked eyes with you. “For listening.”

“Any time.” You smiled at him. “Ready to go?”

“You go ahead. I forgot something in my locker.”

“Okay, I’ll see you Monday?”

“Drive safe.”

You navigated out of the building and pushed the doors open. Fresh air filled your lungs, something you often take for granted after being in a stuffy office all day. The parking lot was fairly empty. You could see your own car a few rows down and spotted Johnny’s fire red convertible parked close to the door.

What you didn’t expect to see was the woman leaning against it.

You recognized her. She worked here too but in a different department. She didn’t pay you mind when you walked past, too caught up with finding something in her bag. You looked away before she could catch you staring but your brain was going a hundred miles an hour.

Did she know Johnny? Of course, she knows Johnny. Everyone knows him. What was she doing by his car? And most importantly…

Why was this bothering you so much?

Eventually, you made it to your car and started the engine. As you were pulling out of the driveway, you caught a glimpse of Johnny coming out of the building. In the rearview mirror, you watched him walk up to the woman, kiss her cheek, and open the passenger door for her.

You pulled your eyes away and focused on the road ahead. An uncomfortable feeling settled in your gut. You felt a little nauseous but you ignored it, just like you ignored the green-eyed monster that was slowly making itself known.

Whatever.

You were too busy to have a crush on anyone, anyways.

Much less on someone like Jonathan Storm.

next part > (to be continued)

[robinminustherichard]

[UNKNOWN NUMBER] 1 NEW MESSAGE: Hi Tommy. This is Ravi.

[UNKNOWN NUMBER] 1 NEW MESSAGE: Panikkar.

[UNKNOWN NUMBER] 1 NEW MESSAGE: Like from the bar.

[UNKNOWN NUMBER] 1 NEW MESSAGE: Or from the 118. Buck's Co-Worker.

[UNKNOWN NUMBER] 1 NEW MESSAGE: Sorry, Evan's Co-Worker.

[TOMMY KINARD]: I do know his nickname is Buck. I also do remember you, I promise. What can I do for you?

[UNKNOWN NUMBER] 1 NEW MESSAGE: Right, of course. So I really do not want to be in Buck's business but like, everyone is kind of being a bad friend to him? And every day he looks more sad and it's kind of killing me.

[TOMMY KINARD]: Uh, okay? That's tough bud.

[UNKNOWN NUMBER] 1 NEW MESSAGE: Come on dude don't make me spell it out. Can you come do your weird Tommy magic again please and fix him? He's threatening to transfer houses. I've tried getting the others to notice but it's not really going well. I took him out to a bar tonight and he's just kind of stared at a TV playing a basketball game the whole time. He didn't even notice me putting his phone back after stealing your number from it while he was in the bathroom.

[TOMMY KINARD]: I don't know who you've been talking to but I don't think I have any magic there. Evan is an adult, and we broke up. Like at least twice I think.

[UNKNOWN NUMBER] 1 NEW MESSAGE: Damn whenever people talked about the Great Tommy Kinard they didn’t say he was a quitter.

[TOMMY KINARD]: Okay first of all, that was rude.

[TOMMY KINARD]: Second of all, I am a quitter and I am proud of it.

[UNKNOWN NUMBER] 1 NEW MESSAGE: Dude.

[UNKNOWN NUMBER] 1 NEW MESSAGE: What if I told you that he baked a triple chocolate cake at 2 AM in the station the other night and no one even said thank you while they ate it and he looks like he hasn't slept in weeks.

[TOMMY KINARD]: I agree that isn't great. But it's not my place to talk to him or anything right now, Ravi. I'm sorry but that's the reality of it.

[UNKNOWN NUMBER] 1 NEW MESSAGE: And what if I told you that Eddie announced he was coming back to L.A. and gave Buck 72 hours notice to find a new place to live or risk sleeping on the couch for the foreseeable future? He's drinking a White Claw right now Tommy. A White Claw.

[TOMMY KINARD]: Okay that is

[TOMMY KINARD]: Well

[TOMMY KINARD]: Fuck it.

[TOMMY KINARD]: What bar?

[RAVI PANIKKAR] 1 NEW MESSAGE: The same one, dude. I was hopeful, but, well.

[TOMMY KINARD]: When this blows up again it's on you. Be there in 30.

[RAVI PANIKKAR] 1 NEW MESSAGE: Sick thanks man see you soon!!!!!!

"Who are you texting?" Buck asks, breaking out of his fog for a moment, "pretty big grin you've got there."

Buck is trying, clearly, but the smile he tries for doesn't quite get there.

"Eh, just a friend. Needed a favor."

"Oh, uh, are you good? I can--"

"Nah, Buck, it's all good. He already said yes. Plus it's honestly kind of more for him than me. Kind of guy that doesn't see what's right in front of him, you know?"

"Oh," Buck says, looking a little lost, "y-yeah, I get that."

"So, that last rescue. Kind of crazy, right? I think I could have swung the weight a little better--"

"What?" Buck says, a spark of something finally breaking through as he pushes the White Claw aside and leans forward, "No way, that was great work, Ravi! The way you--"

Ravi lets him go on, hoping that the topic change will keep him distracted enough that he won't shut down again before Tommy gets there.

[stylesispunk]

The days of you and I | part 1

Jackson!Joel Miller x fem!reader

series masterlist | next chapter

Summary: After Joel’s near-death, you stay by his side, refusing to leave him behind. You both confront the weight of what’s been done and what it means to still have each other for now.

w.c: 4,5k

warnings: angst, mentions of murder and revenge, emotional trauma, grief trauma, survivor's guilt, discussion of death and loss. It contains spoilers from season 2 of the last of us. No proofreading because, you know.

Note: Remember this story is a sequel of this one shot "What remains of us" or you can ignore it and keep reading this one haha.

A/N: Okay, hello. This is a new Joel series because we love Joel here, and he is alive and recovering. This series will have angst, and the topics followed throughout the story will hold onto the path of healing after a traumatic event for the characters. I already have the end for this series, so everything will lead to it. I hope you like it and stay here to read it. Reblogs are really important, and I appreciate them. I'm gonna be out for a days because I have to put an end to the semester before winter break and do my teacher duties.

Also, I created an AO3 account, and I'll be posting fics there too from now on.

The hospital room was very quiet. With that eerie absence of sound that you could feel penetrating your bones, damaging the inside of your body with a pain that pierced your body, seeped into your soul, and oppressed your heart.

Joel still woke up to that silence, as if was chocking him to death and he had decided he have had enough of it.  to the distant hush of an early morning, and a world that carried on without him. The sharp sting in his ribs reminded him he was still alive, though some days, he wondered what for.

His eyes opened slow, the weight behind them too heavy to lift at once. The ceiling looked the same as it had for the past week, wooden beams, a single hanging light. He’d spent more hours staring at it than sleeping. The painkillers dulled the sharp edges, but nothing softened the hollow inside his chest.

And you were still there.

Your silhouette sat by the window, curled into the old chair like you belonged there. As if you were stuck. A book half-read on your lap, a cup of cold tea nearby, and that same tired crease between your brows you probably didn’t know you had. You looked so small in the pale dawn light, so goddamn stubborn.

He should’ve been glad. Grateful you hadn’t left.

But this morning, something cracked inside him.

It wasn’t relief that filled him. It was grief.

His bones were still aching, his legs dumbed under the cover. He didn’t feel like a man no more, but as a lifeless lump lying in bed.

And you deserved better than this version of him, this half-broken thing stitched together by other people’s hands, carrying the weight of mistakes that couldn’t be undone. Joel wasn’t the man you met. Wasn’t the one who held you like you were the only good thing left in the world.

And seeing you here, still choosing him, hurt worse than any wound that other girl that beat him almost to death had left behind.

He swallowed hard, voice rough and unused.

“You don’t need to stay here all the time, you know?”

The words came out more bitter than he meant them to, tasting like rust and regret.

Your head turned, soft eyes finding his. That damn look, the one that exactly saw right through him, the one that made him feel like a man again for a moment.

And for a second, Joel wished you’d leave.

Because it would be easier than losing you piece by piece like this.

You smiled, small but steady, like you always did when you noticed he was awake. That damn smile, it cut through him every time.

“Took you long enough to wake up again,” you murmured, the softness in your voice brushing against the raw places in him he tried to keep buried. You crossed the room, moving to his side like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it hadn’t been three weeks and one more of watching him drift in and out of fevered sleep and silence.

“You must be feeling tired,” you said, fingertips brushing through the strands of his hair, pushing them gently from his forehead.

Joel didn’t move, but his throat worked around a swallow. It wasn’t fair, you being so gentle. Wasn’t fair that after everything, you were still here, speaking to him like he was the man you remembered, not the one lying broken in that bed.

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning, barely, into your touch before forcing himself to pull away. His jaw clenched.

Reality blurred at the edges; every breath thick with a kind of grief he didn’t know how to name. Time didn’t move right in this room. It stretched too long, like a cruel joke, dragging him through the sharp fragments of what he used to be.

He wasn’t mad.

He was devasted.

He felt ashamed of the man he was now.

He never experienced a physical pain like this. One that burned inside and out his body.

He hadn’t even noticed his hand was clenching around nothing.

How he could even be useful for this town now that he was gone. Everything left was limb laying on a bed with nothing left but a void consuming him as a whole.

He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, the coppery tang of blood grounding him for a second. His voice, when it came, was cracked and quiet.

“You shouldn’t… shouldn’t waste your time on me, darling.”

A bitter, broken kind of truth. But in his heart, he knew it would be worse than dying to watch you stay, wasting your life on him.

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull your hand away, even when his words hung heavy in the air between you like a noose. If anything, your fingers curled more firmly into his hair, a tender anchor to a man too lost to realize he was still here, still tethered.

“I’m not wasting anything,” you said softly, the words steady even as your throat threatened to close around them. “You’re here, Joel. That’s enough.”

He gave a ragged breath, like he wanted to laugh, wanted to scream, but all that came was a low, broken sound somewhere deep in his chest. His gaze dropped to the space between you — his hand, bruised and shaking, lying useless on the blanket.

“Don’t deserve you sitting here, watching this,” he muttered, voice hoarse, eyes hot though no tears came. Couldn’t remember the last time they had.

A long, aching silence stretched between you.

You could feel it, the war inside him. The part that needed you close, needed your touch, your voice, like it was the last thing tethering him to this side of the dark. And the other part, the one too proud, too broken, too wrecked by shame to let himself have it.

But you’d made your choice the moment he opened his eyes a week ago.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said. Not a promise you made lightly in a world like this.

Joel closed his eyes again. He didn’t answer. But for the first time in days, his hand moved, slow, halting, to brush against yours.

“Did you… really take them all?” he rasped.

Your heart clenched, but you didn’t look away. Couldn’t.

You gave a small, steady nod.

He swallowed hard, the muscles in his jaw twitching. His gaze dropped for a second, his hand flexing weakly against the sheets.

“I don’t regret it,” you said at last, the words steady despite the ache in your chest. “No one deserves what they did to you.”

There was a storm behind Joel’s eyes, a thousand things he wanted to say, but his throat burned too much to let them out. Anger, grief, guilt, some twisted kind of gratitude. It tangled up inside him like barbed wire, tearing at every soft part he had left.

“You didn’t have to…” his voice broke, low and pained.

“I know,” you whispered. “But I would do it again.”

Your fingers brushed against his, and this time, his hand turned, weakly curling around yours. A tremble ran through him, and you felt it in your bones, the weight of his shame, the depth of his sorrow, and somewhere, buried beneath it, the fragile pulse of the man you knew still fighting to breathe.

But the love you felt for him, that was enough to send you into a spiral, where nothing else felt real but the desperate need to save him, the desperation of not losing him because that would have meant losing yourself that day.

Neither of you spoke for a while after that. The room was heavy with the things you didn’t need to say.

You didn’t look away from Joel, but you felt the shift in the room, the familiar presence of Tommy as he stepped in.

“Hey,” Tommy’s voice was rough, softer than usual, like he was afraid to break whatever fragile peace hung in the air. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You lifted your head, your fingers gently slipping from Joel’s, though his hand lingered in the empty space you left behind.

Tommy gave a small nod toward you. “Gail’s waiting to see you. Said whenever you were ready.”

Your stomach twisted, a cold unease settling in your chest. You gave Joel one last look, brushing a thumb over his hand before pulling away completely.

“I’ll be back,” you whispered.

Joel didn’t answer. Just stared at the ceiling, eyes distant.

As you stepped out, Tommy caught your arm, just briefly, his hand firm but kind.

“I’ll stay,” he murmured. “Not gonna leave him alone.”

You gave him a grateful, weary nod and left, the door shutting quietly behind you.

The room felt emptier after you were gone. Joel let out a slow breath, eyes closing for a moment before shifting to glance at his brother.

“Gail?” Joel’s voice was rough, but clearer now. “She… she going to therapy with her?”

Tommy rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, sighing as he sank into the chair by the bed.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Doctor says it might help. Been… hard for her since it happened. It isn’t just you carrying scars, brother.”

Joel looked away, his throat working around another swallow. The word therapy felt foreign in his mouth, like it belonged to a world he’d never stepped into, one too far gone for men like him.

Joel stayed quiet for a long time after Tommy spoke, the words circling in his head, refusing to settle. His gaze lingered on the window, on the way the morning light edged in like it didn’t belong here.

Then, rough and low, he broke the silence.

“Was she…” His voice caught, and he cleared his throat, hating the weakness there. “Was she hurt? When… when they brought me back?”

Tommy’s face shifted, the answer already written in his eyes before he spoke.

“Yeah,” he admitted softly. “She… she had some bruises. Took a hit to the side’a her face, couple more on her ribs. And there was a wound on her abdomen.”

Joel’s stomach turned, a cold, sinking dread washing over him.

“Abdomen?” he rasped, his hands curling weakly into fists against the blanket. “Christ.”

Tommy sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees, rubbing a hand over his face. “She didn’t give a damn about it. Wouldn’t let anybody touch her. Wouldn’t even let them clean her up ‘til you were stable. Sat right there in that chair covered in her own blood and yours, talking to you like you could hear her.”

He shook his head, a ghost of a sad, fond smile on his face.

“Would’ve fought off half the town if anyone tried to pull her out of here.”

Joel closed his eyes, the guilt pressing so heavy against his chest he thought it might crush him. A sharp breath rattled through him, his throat burning.

“Goddamn fool,” he muttered to himself, a tear he’d never admit to stinging behind his eye.

“She loves you, you know,” Tommy said quietly, watching his brother’s face. “Way you do her. There is no shame in letting people love you, Joel. Even if it hurts.”

Joel didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not with the knot in his throat, not with the war inside his chest.

But his hand flexed again against the sheets reaching for something, for someone, perhaps you.

The silence thickened again, the kind of quiet that settled deep in your bones. Tommy stayed still, letting Joel sort through whatever storm was building behind those weary eyes.

Then Joel spoke, voice low and cracked, like gravel scraping out of his throat.

“She killed… all of ‘em.”

Tommy’s jaw tensed. He stared down at his hands, lacing his fingers together like it might steady him.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Every last one of ‘em.”

Joel’s throat worked around a swallow, his gaze distant, unfocused, like he was seeing it happen even if he hadn’t been awake for it. Like he could feel the blood she spilled on his behalf soaking into his hands too.

“I should have been the one…” Joel’s voice broke at the edge, bitter and aching. “Should’ve finished it. Not her. Not—”

“She didn’t leave you a choice, Joel,” Tommy cut in quietly, but firm. “You were barely breathing. We didn’t know if you’d make it. You almost died on her arms that night.”

Joel gave a humorless, broken kind of laugh, but there was no light in it. Just sharp edges.

“And now what?” he muttered, a tear sliding down his temple he didn’t bother to wipe away. “She got their blood on her hands. Because of me.”

Tommy leaned forward; his voice steady in that way Joel remembered from years long gone, before the world turned to shit.

“She doesn’t regret it,” he said. “You know that. And neither would I.”

Joel’s eyes finally met his brother’s. A flicker of something there. Grief. Fury. Love. Loss.

“But I do,” Joel whispered. “I regret that she had to.”

Tommy swallowed hard, his throat bobbing.

“You’re not the only one with scars, brother,” he said softly.

“I don’t regret it,” you said, voice steady, though your chest ached with the weight of it. “No one deserves what they did to Joel.”

Gail’s brow lifted, arms folding across her chest. “Murder?” she challenged; one word sharp enough to cut.

You didn’t blink. “Murder’s a simple act these days. Torture?” Your voice turned cold, almost unfamiliar even to yourself. “That’s another thing.”

A beat of heavy silence stretched between you.

“Murder is what Joel committed when he blew my husband’s head off,” Gail snapped, her voice brittle, laced with venom, old grief that still clung to her like a second skin.

“It’s not the same,” you bit out, shaking your head.

“It is,” Gail said, stepping closer. “The only difference is you had the chance to save him. If you hadn’t, Joel would be dead right now. And you’d be mourning him like I mourned mine.”

A fury you hadn’t felt since that day surged hot through your veins. You took a shaky breath, eyes narrowing.

“Fuck you,” you hissed. “You don’t know him. You don’t get to talk about him like that.”

Gail’s face didn’t move, but something in her gaze flickered, something dark, bitter, and quietly resigned.

“I know enough,” she murmured. “Enough to understand what kind of man survives in a world like this. And what kind of woman kills for him.”

You held her gaze, unflinching, the burn of unshed tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, though your face gave nothing away.

“I’m not sorry,” you whispered. “And I never will be.”

“You don’t get it,” you murmured, voice breaking just enough to betray the rawness beneath your fury. “My life would’ve ended.”

The words hung there, fragile and furious all at once.

You swallowed hard, fighting the tremor in your throat. “When they took him… when I saw what they did… there wasn’t a world left for me after that. So don’t stand there and talk about men surviving and women killing like you understand a goddamn thing about what it feels like to have your heart ripped out of your chest and left bleeding in the dirt. Because you’ve been behind these walls, safe, without knowing what it’s like out there.”

Gail’s brow twitched; her gaze steady but dull. “Do you think I haven’t lost people? Do you think grief makes you special?”

“I didn’t say that,” you shot back, your voice tight, shaking now. “I’m saying you didn’t see him. You didn’t watch them tear him apart. You didn’t hear the sounds he made. And you sure as hell didn’t have to put him back together.”

Her jaw clenched. “And now what? Do you think murder fix it?”

“I don’t care if it does or doesn’t,” you spat. “I care that they’ll never touch him again. That they won’t look at Ellie. That no one here will whisper about how Joel Miller should’ve died that day.”

Gail scoffed, a bitter sound. “And what about you? How can you carry this and walk around like it won’t eat you alive?”

“I don’t care,” you said, low, certain. “I care about him.

A beat of silence.

“You think that makes you strong?” Gail asked quietly.

“No,” you whispered. “It makes me his, as I’ve always been.”

Gail’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “You talk like that’s a badge of honor.”

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “It’s not. It’s a fact.”

She tilted her head, watching you like someone examining a wound too deep to close. “What if you drown into this?”

“I’ll try to save myself” you shrugged.

Another pause. The room felt too small, thick with old grief and new wounds, neither of you willing to be the one to walk away first.

“I loved Eugene so much” Gail said, her voice rough. “And when he died, it didn’t turn me into this.”

You met her eyes, unflinching. “But it made you bitter towards Joel.”

Gail’s jaw tightened, something sharp flickering in her gaze. “He made choices. Ones that cost people their lives. Good people. You act like he’s some goddamn martyr, but he isn’t.”

“And neither was Eugene,” you shot back, your voice low and steady. “Do you wanna talk about choices? Fine. Joel made his. I made mine. And you? You’ve been standing behind walls judging the rest of us ever since we arrived.

Her nostrils flared, a bitter breath leaving her. “I don’t have to like what this world turns people into.”

“Neither do I,” you murmured. “But I’ll fight for the one thing in it that still means something to me. That’s the difference between you and me, Gail. You buried your heart with Eugene. I’m not ready to bury mine.”

A long, heavy silence stretched between you, the old ache of loss clawing at both your throats. And for the first time, Gail didn’t have a sharp reply. She just looked away, jaw clenched, and you took your opening.

You didn’t say goodbye. You just left.

You made your way back through the hallway, your steps slow, heavy, like every word from that conversation with Gail was still clinging to your skin. The air in Jackson felt colder somehow, like the whole town was holding its breath, waiting for something none of you could name.

As a town, you were still recovering from that day.

When you reached Joel’s door, you didn’t push it open right away.

You stood there, hand hovering by the frame, heart hammering against your ribs because, god, he was still here. Still breathing. Still alive.

And it didn’t matter how broken or battered he was, how much rage or guilt sat behind those tired eyes. It was him. And that was enough for you.

Inside, you heard the low murmur of his voice, raspy, weighted with a pain he never used to let anyone hear.

“But how is she really doing?”

“She’s… holding up,” Tommy answered, voice cautious. ”

Joel let out a rough, broken sound. Not quite a sigh, not quite a sob.

“If you ask me, you’re lucky she’s still here after what this world’s done to both of you.” Tommy said.

There was a pause, then Joel spoke again, softer this time, like he wasn’t sure he meant to say it out loud.

“I just… I don’t want her staying because she feels like she has to,” Joel muttered, his voice rough, almost cracking. “She should go, Tommy. Find something better. Hell, anyone better than… whatever I am now.”

Your stomach twisted. A sharp, cold ache settling beneath your ribs. You stayed frozen at the doorway, your hand tightening around the frame, every part of you aching. You didn’t mean to listen, but it was too late. The words were already carving themselves into your chest.

“She’s not here out of obligation.” Tommy said, his tone harder than before. “What would you do if you were her?”

Another pause.

Joel let out a humorless, ragged chuckle, and it hurt to hear it. “It’s not fair.”

“But she gets to decide what’s fair,” Tommy shot back. “And so far, she has decided it’s you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, blinking fast against the burn in your eyes. Your heart hammered in your chest so loud you were sure they’d hear it.

You needed one more second to pull yourself together. To bury the hurt his words left behind, not because you doubted him, but because you knew where they came from. The same place you’d been sitting in since the day you saw him bleeding out in the dirt.

You swallowed down the knot in your throat, forcing your face into something steady, or close enough to pass for it. Then, with a breath you weren’t sure reached your lungs, you pushed the door open.

“Hey,” you said softly.

Both their heads turned. Joel’s eyes landed on you first, and for a split second, something in them broke open. A flicker of guilt, sorrow, and something heavier, like he knew you’d heard more than you were meant to.

But you gave him a small, careful smile, pretending the sting behind your eyes wasn’t there. Pretending your heart wasn’t in pieces on the floor between you both.

Tommy cleared his throat, glancing between the two of you. “I, uh — I’ll give you a minute.” He patted Joel’s shoulder, murmured something you couldn’t catch, and brushed past you on his way out.

The door clicked shut.

Silence stretched thin in the room, heavy like storm air. Joel shifted uncomfortably on the bed, his hand twitching against the blanket. He opened his mouth, then shut it again.

You crossed the room, sitting down on the edge of the mattress by his side. Close, but not quite touching.

“I was thinking…” you began, “I could ask the doctor if you can leave the hospital and go back home. We surely need to make some changes there with the bed and—”

 “Stop it.” He cut you off, his voice rough but firm. “I’m not going anywhere right now.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sharpness. “Joel—”

“No.” He shook his head, eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite name. “Not until I’m ready. And right now, I’m not ready to face that.”

The weight in his tone pinned you still. You wanted to argue, to tell him that staying there wasn’t helping him heal, but the raw edge in his voice stopped you.

Instead, you just nodded slowly. “Okay,” you said softly.

He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes, the tension in his jaw slowly easing into something like resignation.

You settled into the chair beside his bed, not bearing the closeness anymore, the quiet between you thick but familiar. Your fingers absentmindedly traced the worn edge of his sleeve, as if hoping to stitch together the frayed pieces of him with nothing but touch.

Joel’s breath was shallow, uneven, and you could feel the weight of everything he wasn’t saying pressing down on the room. The man you knew, the one who’d fought through hell and back was here, but buried beneath layers of pain and doubt.

“I’m scared,” he finally muttered, voice rough and low. “Not of dying... of what’s left after.”

Your heart clenched. “You’re not alone in that,” you whispered. “You know that.”

“What you did—” he began “I didn’t deserve to be saved, baby.”

“I made my choice.” You replied, eyes watering.

Joel’s gaze dropped to your trembling hands, then back up to your face, searching.

“I’m broken,” he said quietly, voice cracking. “Not the same man I was before.”

You shook your head gently, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You’re still him,” you insisted, voice firm but tender. “Wounded, maybe. Scared, sure. But still you. And I’m still here.”

A long pause stretched between you, filled only by the faint rhythm of his labored breathing.

Joel’s eyes glistened, a shadow moving through them as he let out a shaky breath.

“What you did… it’ll haunt you,” he murmured, voice low and rough like gravel. “Same way Salt Lake haunts me. What I did to those Fireflies… what I took from Ellie. Thought I was saving her. Thought it was worth whatever price.” He swallowed hard, jaw trembling. “But it never leaves you. Never lets you forget. Look what they did to me.”

You didn’t flinch. You leaned in, your hand finding his cheek, thumb brushing against the rough line of his beard.

“No,” you said softly, steady. “It won’t haunt me, Joel.”

He blinked, as if the words knocked something loose inside him.

“Because I know what we do,” you continued, voice trembling but certain, “when we love someone enough to tear the world apart for them. I know what it means to save the person who’s your whole heart. And I’ll carry it. All of it. And I won’t regret a single thing.”

His eyes closed, a tear slipping down his temple, and for the first time in too long, he didn’t look like a ghost of himself. He looked like Joel.

“Goddamn you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I’m not letting you go,” you said, leaning your forehead to his.

His breath hitched at the sound of your voice so close, your warmth grounding him in a way nothing else could.

“Baby…” he rasped, like it hurt to say it, like it was both a confession and a plea.

You hushed him gently, your hand brushing through his hair, your forehead still pressed to his.

“It’s gonna take time to heal,” you whispered. “I know that. I’m not asking you to be okay tomorrow, Joel. Or next week. Or even next year. I just need you here. With me. However, you can manage.”

His fingers, still weak, clung to yours like a lifeline. His voice cracked as he spoke again, rough and small.

“I won’t be able to protect you.” You felt it in the way his words splintered under the weight of his shame, the jagged edges of the man he used to be catching against what was left. His eyes searched yours, desperate and hollow all at once.

“I won’t be able to protect you,” he repeated, voice breaking like a man confessing to a sin he could never undo as he closed his eyes. “Not like before. Not the way I should do.”

You swallowed hard, a tear finally slipping free, tracing down your cheek as you gripped his hand tighter, like you could anchor him to this moment, to you.

“You don’t have to,” you whispered, voice trembling but certain. “You protected me for so long, Joel. Longer than anyone else ever did. It’s my turn now. I don’t need a gun in your hand to feel safe. I just need you. That’s it. I just need to feel the beating of your heart under my hand to know you’re still breathing with me.”

His throat worked around a choked sound, his other hand weakly lifting as if it wanted to touch you but couldn’t quite make it, so you guided it to your cheek, holding it there like it was the most precious thing in the world because that’s how it felt.

“I’m still yours,” you whispered against his palm. “Always. However, you come back to me.”

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[serenity-loves-red]

IT STARTED WITH THE CAT DISTRIBUTION SYSTEM

Part 2. Masterlist

Living with your cat has never been this refreshing. Life college may be giving you lemons, at least you now have a cat with you.

Mr. Blue Balls- you named him. A bit(?) unhinge but meh. His eyes are blue and the cat has balls. The cat even looked traumatized, went limp on your arms as if his soul just left his body after you just suddenly flip him over to look at his rear.

He wasn’t even able to look at you for a while an hour, hiding at the corner or under your table when you look at him. It was as if you just stole him all of his dignity. You did, you just didn’t know.

You even have to bribe him with tuna so that he’ll get out of his hiding spot. He’s that embarrassed. And that what makes you want to tease him more.

So you better stock more tuna to bribe him after or else he may not let you cuddle him anymore.

Anyways, aside from teasing your cat, you talked with him. Like a full rambling talk. It’s way better than talking with yourself when you are alone. Now, you have a cat you can talk trauma dump.

Although it seems to be therapeutic for you. But for him? Not at all.

I mean it’s nice hearing you talk–about yourself, your life, problems, etc. Phainon doesn’t mind that at all. What he does mind is that when you talk about this game.

About them, his friends, his world.

Have you ever seen those cat videos where the cat doesn’t seem to know if it’s alive? Just looking at nothingness? Well that’s what happens.

At first you find it cute. It happened after you played with the game. He sat on your lap as you did the trailblaze mission with Mydei. You got busy so you really haven’t really done it yet. So as you played, you keep rambling to him about your pain and resentment about the quest.

*Anaxa died*

“Fuck you Hoyoverse! Why is it always the hot men??!!!”

*10 mins after the start of 3.3*

“OmfG can’t you give me a breakkkk?? Agleaaaaa noo! Fuck you Caenis! Fuck youjsjdhhdvdjsjsvshsk”

So yeah, a bit of mental break down here and there together with your cat that seems to be meowing at it in disbelief.

Cue: existential crisis

Phainon had it hard to accept that all he had experienced was just part of a program of code and game. So he can’t help but to get lost in his thoughts sometimes.

Either staring at nothing or at you. You swear his eyes either glows or flicker from blue to yellow.

It took him about a week to accept everything. He still think of finding a way home though. After all, he still has a world to save. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it here. He’ll miss you when he leaves.

You may be a bit hyperactive, unhinged roommate/owner?, but you cared for him. Which he is grateful for. And you may or may not have been growing on him.

So yeah, just keep talking and he’ll be listening to you. You are quite cute when you do it after all.

Oh? A livestream for the next patch? He doesn’t know what that is but you can watch it together.

Is-is that me? Holy Kephale he look so coo-

“HOT! That’s MY MANN!!! Plsplspls Phainon go home the kids misses you plsplspls!🙏”

But he’s already home though *meow purrs lick*

He’s still a cat so until then he doesn’t mind giving you cuddles and kisses. I mean how awkward would it be?

He did wonder though how will you react if he turns back to normal.

[gghostwriter]

Level-One Intruder

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 2 Summary: Spencer apprehends an unexpected but adorable trespasser Trope:It’s fluff in a meet cute type of way w.c: 1.8k a/n: I'm a liar. I said I was going to post once I get over this flu but I couldn't help myself, not at all. I just really really wanted to share this cute cute fic I wrote with you all. Not proofread. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

The brown tweed coat on Spencer’s shoulders threaten to droop down his arms as he wrangled his keys to unlock his apartment door.

There was little light on the hallway, something that could be attributed to the late hour of twelve midnight. Muffled noises could be heard from next door—a new tenant must have moved in while he was away. 

The FBI agent could feel himself coming apart at the seams from the lack of proper sleep. The latest case took eight long grueling days to solve and the team had to make do with what the small town could offer as arrangements.

His back felt stiff from curling on the squeaky sofa bed, trying his best to make himself comfortable and now, all he wanted to do was decompress with a totem of a book and sleep like the dead until his alarm clock rang for the next day. 

Dropping his satchel on the ground, silently assuring himself to get the laundry going the next day, a tiny scuffle echoed through his heavily darkened apartment.

Spencer tensed, unsure if his overtly exhausted mind conjured up the noise or if someone else found their way into his haven while it was otherwise unoccupied.

Another sound confirmed the reality causing him to draw his gun from his holster, ends pointing down, as he slowly made his way around the sofa to the first bedroom, minding his steps to avoid the sections with creaking floorboards.

He rounded the corner, eyes straining to adjust to the minimal light the outposts provide him—and nothing. 

The room was stale from lack of use and everything looked to be in the right place. The stripped spare bed looked untouched and all the windows were sealed shut. Exactly how he left it.

Another noise caught his attention.

Spencer tightened his hold on the gun and tiptoe’d to the next room—the bathroom and in there, the first real evidence was uncovered. 

His eyebrows threatened to meet in the middle as he took in the unspooled tissue roll hanging from its holder. The unused sheets of paper now sat on the green titled floor, no doubt flooded with organisms and bacteria that the naked eye couldn’t see. 

He shuddered from the thought.

Quickly moving on, he shuffled his way to the open kitchen. Right away he spotted something amiss—rather a few items amiss.

First, the lower cabinet was ajar. It was where Spencer stored his cleaning supplies and it was rarely opened as it was.

Second, his favorite Star Trek mug that he left out to dry near the sink was now precariously near the edge, threatening to break into a thousand pieces.

And lastly, the empty plastic bag of bread on the counter that he was sure had two more slices before he went away for the case.

There was an intruder and it seemed like he was hungry.

Weapon still in his hands, he slowly he crept his towards the slightly opened mahogany door of the main bedroom. He took a deep breath before rounding up to the room, pistol pointing forward to the unsuspecting guest. 

Except there was no one.

“That’s strange,” he muttered to himself, holstering back the revolver to his belt and to his surprise, someone answered or rather, meow-ed back. A fluffy orange cat with a collar on his neck.

The agent smiled. “You must be my intruder—”

Meow.

“—Now, who are you and how did you get in here?”

The cat was silent, content with rubbing his body on his black pant legs, leaving behind stray hairs that Spencer would have to lint away before laundry.

He bent down to see if there was any information hanging from the cat’s green collar. 

“Mr. Chewie. Is that your name?”

Feline eyes stared into his and blinked once. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he sighed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe you could understand me but actually according to studies, cats lack the cognitive skills to interpret human language so I still don’t know why I’m explaining that to you.”

Meow.

“Nope, I’m sure you’re just responding to the fact that I am talking to you and my rambling is clearly brought by my lack of proper sleep—” a knock on his front door interrupted his musings. “—one second,” he called out, swiftly unbuckling his holster belt and placing it on top of the dresser. There was no need to frighten the knocking neighbor with a gun. 

Spencer turned back to the cat inquisitively sitting next to his feet. “Don’t move.”

As he made his way back to the entrance, opening lights as he went, he could hear the click clack of the feline’s claws against the wooden floorboards. It clearly didn’t take his order to consideration.

Spencer swung the door open as the stranger was poised for a mid-knock.

“Uh—hi,” the woman breathed out. 

“Hi,” Spencer drawled out in reply. “Can I help you?”

You rocked on your heels, fingers pulling down the ends of your oversized sweater as if it could lessen your state of undress. Spencer didn’t judge, it was early into the morning after all, nor did he stare long at your navy blue shorts and pink fluffy socks adorning your feet. 

“I’m your new neighbor and it’s not really the time to introduce myself but by any chance is there—”

“An adorable intruder in my apartment?” 

You nod, sweetly smiling. The glint in your eyes filled with apologies.

“Yes actually, I was trying to ask him where he came from but I don’t actually speak cat and neither does he understand human.” 

You laugh sheepishly, fingers gently rubbing at the side of your neck. “I’m so sorry. I hope he didn’t make a mess or bother you at all. I left my fire escape window open for a little bit to let the breeze in and he must have explored out while I wasn’t looking. So sorry again, let me just get him out of the way—”

A rustle from behind made him turn, not before he caught your eyes widening to the scene inside his apartment. Your cat kneading on his brown throw blanket before settling on the sofa.

“Mr. Chewie, what are you doing?” You squeaked out.

Spencer laughed at the outrageous tone coating your voice. It reminded him of Garcia swatting the other agents away from her tech equipments.

The cat answered back with a meow.

“No, mister. You cannot sleep here, this isn’t our home! It belongs to this lovely gentleman over here—” you flashed Spencer a smile. “Now, please get your butt off the sofa and back to our apartment.”

The feline seemingly rolled his eyes and turned his back on you.

“Huh,” Spencer observed. “The studies might be wrong after all. I think he understands you.”

You laughed, shoulders shaking from the absurdity of his comment. “Mr. Chewie might be special or at least that’s what every pet owner believe to be. I never introduced myself have I? I’m Y/N. I moved next door a couple of nights ago.”

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he replied back. 

You tilted your head to the side. “Oh, is that why I haven’t seen you around, Doctor? Busy saving lives?”

He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. In a way, you weren’t wrong per se. His title did let people assume his career to be in the medical industry instead of having three PhD’s under his belt. The former was more plausible given how young he looked.

The sound of a door opening and closing at the end of the hall caught both your attention. Your eyes flashed back to his, twinkling. “So, Doctor. Will it be alright if I step inside and grabbed my cat?”

He cleared his throat. “Uh—yeah, yeah. Sure, come right in.”

You sheepishly smiled before entering his sanctuary. Eyes soaking in any piece of information that represented who he was.

Spencer felt your warmth as you passed his body. The smell of warm cookies wafting to his nose, dissipating the anxiety that threatened to creep up his spine from letting a stranger into his home. 

“Nice apartment,” you complimented. “There seems to be a lot of books.”

He tucks his hands inside his pant pockets. “I like to read.”

“Me too. It’s a great hobby to pass the time.”

You sweetly smiled before swiftly scooping up the lounging cat in your arms with little protest. “Again, I’m so sorry if he disturbed you in any way and please, let me know if he made a mess. I’d like to make it up to you—as a thank you and apology, I mean.”

“It’s no problem,” Spencer watched your cheeks match the color of your socks under the fluorescent light. It suited you, he thought. “Actually, can I just ask you a question?”

“Anything.”

“Why is he—” his calloused hands reaching to pet the orange feline nestled on your chest. “—named Mr. Chewie?” 

You giggled, the sound similar to wind chimes being rustled by a gentle breeze. It settled the ache caused by his lack of proper rest. It was fascinating, intriguing, and a little bit frightening if he had to be honest.

“Well, I actually named him after Star Wars, Chewbacca, because of how fluffy he is and the name just shortened itself once I found out how perpetually famished he is.”

“He’s named well,” Spencer surmised, the empty plastic of bread flashing in his mind.

“Well, I shouldn’t be bothering you any longer,” you slowly backed away from his space. “Thank you, Doctor, and have a good night.”

With a sleepy smile on his face, Spencer watched you push open your apartment door. “Good night.”

You flashed your saccharine smile one last time before closing it behind you, leaving him feeling light and bemused for the first time in a long while.

And as he woke up to the gentle streams of the sun on his face, feeling well rested and ready to tackle the paperwork on his desk, the emotion still lingered causing the corners of his mouth to rise up into a soft smile. An after effect of your encounter that he didn’t mind experiencing. 

It was a certain type of high. 

It was something bright and puzzling.

A note and a batch of cookies taped to his door caught his eye as he exited the apartment. The  treats were in this clear, non-labelled package. Handmade then, Spencer noted.

His smile stretched his warming cheeks wide as he took in the scripted letters written on the pink post it that reminded him of your blush and your fluffy socks.

See you around, Doctor! 

Have a great day saving lives! 

- Your Nurse neighbor & Mr. Chewie xx 

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[binmeister]

Vocally incompatible

Jinu & Rumi x Producer! Reader - Scenario

Where you have to step in and guide a couple of squabbling idols on how to sing with chemistry.

CW: Kinda fluff, both of them are crushing on you highkey, RuJinu are more platonic sibling rivalry in this AU - not proofread

OST - Everytime - CHEN, Punch (listen if you haven’t please see the vision I beg)

masterlist

Were you in hell? You had to be. Of course working in any form of creative media sucks but it is actually kind of insane what you’ve been put through for the last 3 hours of recording session 2 of 3. Jinu and Rumi, two extremely vocally talented idols and leaders of their respective groups could sing their way out of anything. But apparently had less chemistry than you personally did with a toaster and a bath tub filled to the brim with water.

How could this happen? You envisioned such a beautiful harmony from the two of them, surely they could harmonise off eachother with Rumi’s richer tone and Jinu’s heavenly high notes but it was like oil and water in a hot skillet - both trying to overpower the other and just completely unable to sync up and get their shit together. You were rested against the vast audio equipment in front of you, elbows on the very edge of the table with your head in your hands as the duo in the booth had both stopped to take a water break. You felt like you were at your wits end, there’s no way they couldn’t get their shit together right?

The track you envisioned their voices on was supposed to be a romantic and charming song, they didn’t even need to harmonise that much with Jinu taking up the masc. vocal lines they only needed to harmonise at the last chorus but it was like they were fighting each other with their singing voices. Was it too much to ask of them? You heard the booth door click open and the two had walked back into the main studio with you, Rumi grumbling a little to herself as she gave Jinu the stank eye. You couldn’t see it but Jinu had stuck his tongue out at her, and her jaw dropped as she raised a hand to swat at him but before she could he side stepped her and made a noise which finally got you to raise your head to look at them - Rumi tried to play it cool, pretending to stretch with her raised hand and not show that she was mid-assault on the taller male. 

“Guys I just.. what is going on?” You finally spoke, your voice drained as you eyed them both in genuine confusion and maybe even a little concern. You expected things to be bumpy but you’re nearly about to waste a whole second session of unusable audio because no matter how much you attempted to guide them with words alone the two just.. couldn’t synergise. They both pointed to each other immediately, voices layered on top of each other as they made immature jabs at the other party.

“It’s him, he’s just going too high too fast.” “Me? You’re trying to sing my line!” “YOUR line? This is a duet.” “Oh so now it’s ours?”

They shut up as soon as they felt your deadpan stare on them, a wry smile on your face as you drooped in your chair. “So you guys hit it off when fighting but you can’t sing together?”

You thought it over for a little before sighing, maybe you should’ve done this from the start but you expected them to do better than what they did and admittedly you felt a little childish - surely you didn’t need to step in and record the demo because Rumi was usually fine but if you really have to... You stood up, gesturing for Rumi to take a seat in your place and then motioning for Jinu to follow you into the audio booth - handing him a pair of headphones as you took up the other pair and stood in front of the mic.

“You’re gonna sing with me, and you’re gonna imagine I’m the love of your life.” You said blankly, voice calm as you pointed at Jinu accusingly. “We’re gonna pretend we’re in a slow burn drama, you’ve finally realised you fell for me and are gonna imagine what it feels like when you look at me and all you can think is mushy gushy feelings.”

“We’ll do the first chorus and your first verse, then I’ll do the same with Rumi.” You finished, eyes on him waiting for him to at least do something to acknowledge he heard you.

The tips of Jinu’s ears were hot, he stammered a bit and nodded obediently and had to resist the urge to bite his lip. Did you catch it? How’d you know that he started to think you were cute. He didn’t have time to think as you gestured for Rumi to play the sound track, the clicks of the starting beats in his ears as he looked away from you to look at the music sheet in front of him so he could follow along with the lyrics.

“Oh every time I see you, geudae nuneul bol ttaemyeon...” You sang into the mic - your tone breathy and Jinu felt tingles at the back of his neck as he dared to let himself look at you, eyes closed as you sang and you looked. Breathtaking. He finally broke his gaze, looking ahead and catching Rumi’s expression and she was no better than him. Dreamy expression on her face as she looked at you like you lit the stars in the sky as she subtly swayed to the opening notes of the song and your voice.

“..shipeun dan han saram.” You continued on, he heard the beats signalling that he needed to harmonise soon on the shared adlibs and he let himself steal a last glance at your serene expression as your brows scrunched slightly as you gently laced the lyrics with emotion. Like you were the one that had fallen in love with someone and wanted to tell them through this song. that they meant the world to you. That maybe.. he meant the world to you.

“Baby oh oh oh oh..” His voice melted together with yours, like you two had been singing together for centuries and he could feel the butterflies in his stomach and how his chest felt a little lighter as he continued harmonising with you. Then finally it was his solo line, you had leant back away from the mic - eyes barely open as you nodded along to the song and listened to how he handled his voice and how he finally put some feeling into his words. A smile ghosted your lips and he had to resist the need to smile as he sang but he continued.

Yeah. He gets it now.

“Oh every time I see you, geudae nuneul bol ttaemyeon...” He sang out, eyes looking at the glint of your eyes and he finally understood the lyrics a little better. It felt more natural like this, with you. With Rumi it felt like the two were siblings being forced to be nice to each other and honestly, he couldn’t resist messing with her because of it. In that endearing older sibling way where they’re genetically programmed to mess with the younger one. 

It was maybe a minute more of him singing, his voice finally having that sweetness and yearning that you were in need of for this track and you couldn’t help it you were giddy. He was nearly done with his verse and on the last line you looked up, eyes meeting his and he choked on his last word before looking away to break your gaze. You didn’t catch it right? The fact that he was staring at you the entire time as he sang, as the past months of working with you played in his head - the small gestures, the banter, just everything played in his head like a movie and he rubbed the nape of his neck as you clapped for him.

“Yes! Yes this is exactly what I wanted, great job Jinu.” You cheered gleefully as you gestured for Rumi to stop the track, she looked surprised with what she heard. Jinu was capable of singing with emotion? No way. He’s just a stinky demon.. a stinky pretty demon but like, he’s still gross. Though she had to admit you guys sounded.. amazing together. Like you were confessing to each other in the snippet that was recorded and she felt a tinge of jealousy at that, she’s known you longer after all! Surely it’s just business. Jinu laughed you off, bashful as he gave an awkward tiny bow to you before he responded.

“The scenario you said to imagine, just kinda worked I guess?” He offered up as an explanation but you didn’t look into it too much, hands lightly clapping at his work before you instructed him and Rumi to swap places. As they brushed by each other Rumi couldn’t help it, she had to make a jab at him.

“Do you know what button to press orrrr.. are you gonna wing it?” It was childish, she had a smug smile on her face as he paused briefly before they both gave each other the stank eye and she entered the booth - taking up Jinu’s previous position as you bounced slightly on your feet in joy. Finally things are shaping up! Jinu sat down in the office chair in front of the audio equipment, staring blankly at all the shiny lit up buttons and dials and- okay yeah he has no clue what he’s supposed to press. 

Slowly he looked up, Rumi met his eye first and she had the same smug smile on her face as before like she just knew he had no clue what was going on and you? When he caught your eye you just smiled at him, walking up to the glass and trying to point out which buttons he needs to press and trying to talk loud enough through the muffling glass for him to understand that he shouldn’t press them until you give him a signal. He could do that much. Hopefully.

You stepped back up to the mic, turning to Rumi and beginning to give her the same breakdown you gave Jinu but instead you’d be singing Jinu’s lines instead and then you would harmonise on the bridge together.

“Rumi, I know you well enough that you’ve never thought about holding hands with someone before. I need you to just, pretend, that you finally found the love of your life okay?” It was a very, very poorly worded peptalk and she was shocked. “I too have thought about that!” Rumi said in protest, her cheeks heating up in embarrassment and she could just feel Jinu’s dumb smile as he heard everything through the mics.

“Okay okay, alright then.. imagine we’ve been arguing for weeks and then something clicks and you just, start seeing me in a different light hm? Just picture me as someone that you fell for.” You teased, your tone softer with her as you smiled at her before gesturing for Jinu to start up the song at a different part. You winced when he hit the wrong button, a screech playing in both you and Rumi’s headphones that made the other girl groan and mutter about his incompetence but you heard the muffled sorry from him as he corrected his mistake and finally the song started back up right near his chorus would end.

“Nal tteonaji marayo..” You sang out, no hesitance as you picked up the song from right after the chorus with ease. Rumi couldn’t help but look at you with an adoring gaze, she loved hearing you sing and.. you were just in your element when you were in the booth or when you were busy slaving away at mixing tracks. Like your own graceful kind of science. There was a yearning in your voice that tugged at her heart, a bittersweet touch to the words that left your lips and she really felt like you were saying these to her. A confession between the two of you.

“Nal mitgo gidaryeojullaeyo.” You continued and she let herself harmonise with you, emotion slipping into the lyrics as she let your voices mix together finally. No battle, no too much or too little on either of your voices. She perfectly melded in with yours like you were meant to sing this track together. She hit the high note beautifully, tastefully even with such ease and precision - strain free and you mentally cheered as you continued on eyes closing as you continued the last few lines with her. The emotion Rumi put into her voice, was natural like she’d been bottling up feelings and finally managed to let them out - a tint of shyness in her words as they left her lips.

“Nae unmyeongijyo. Sesang kkeuchirado.” Your voices continued together, Rumi ending the shared harmony with a softer touch and leaning away from the mic and continued to admire you as you sang out the last line that you wanted to show them. Jinu was stunned. He knew Rumi could sing, he knew you could sing but it was like he was listening to an intimate confession between two soulmates.. which made him feel a twinge of jealousy but he couldn’t deny that you both sounded heavenly together.

“Jigyeojugo shipeun neo,” You finished, letting the music play and holding up a hand to show Rumi not to continue on as you opened your eyes and stepped back. You motioned for Jinu to stop the track and he did, and you felt the tension leave your shoulders as you quietly cheered - the joy in your body leading you to bounce a little in joy as you fought the urge to let out a hoot of victory.

“Yes! YES! This is great, awesome, I just need you two do the exact same thing let’s get Jinu back in here.” You spoke quickly as you took the headphones off your head, haphazardly throwing them on the studio mic and rushed out of the booth. You spun Jinu, grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his seat in a blink of an eye as you ushered him back into the recording booth so he and Rumi could try that last bridge again together. 

The finally understood what to do!

Rumi and Jinu exchanged glances. This wouldn’t end well. You gleefully gave a thumbs up to them as you started the track from the beginning, full belief in them as they started the song from the beginning again. Both flawlessly sang their solo choruses and Jinu was singing the chorus the exact same way as he did with you - but then it was like a record scratch moment as they immediately started overpowering each other again during the bridge and your smile dropped from your face.

Oh.. it seems you’ll be in here for a third session with them after all.

[tinybeetiny]

Apologies: OT8

Apologies from part 1

->Starring: OT8!AteezxReader ->Genre: Angst with comfort, ->Cw: Someone says shitty...., more angst but, as the title says, with apologies

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

Seonghwa:

It had been days since you’d spoken. Really spoken.

The texts were dry, short, practical. The calls were missed. The weight of his last words, “You’re just too clingy sometimes”, hadn’t faded. They echoed in your head, over and over, every time you hovered over his contact name, too afraid to reach out again and be met with silence.

So when the knock came at your door well past midnight, you hesitated.

But you knew that knock. Soft. Hesitant. Him.

You opened the door to find Seonghwa standing there, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, eyes downcast like he didn’t know if he was allowed to look at you.

“I shouldn’t be here this late,” he said quietly. “But I didn’t know where else to go.”

You said nothing. Just stepped aside, letting him in.

He didn’t sit. He hovered in the center of the room like he wasn’t sure he had the right to make himself comfortable.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” he said finally. “About what I said. About how I made you feel.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Took you long enough.”

“I know,” he whispered.

Silence. He fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve, eyes flickering to you.

“I always thought that loving someone meant being strong, being steady, not depending on anyone too much. So when you wanted more, more time, more attention, more of me. I told myself you were being too much because I didn’t want to admit I wasn’t giving enough.”

He looked at you then, and his eyes were tired. But soft.

“You weren’t clingy,” he said. “You were present. You loved me so openly, and I made you feel like that was a flaw.”

Your throat tightened.

He stepped forward slowly. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to dial your love down to be enough for me.”

Your eyes burned, but you didn’t look away.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me right now,” he said, voice cracking. “But if you let me — I want to learn how to show up the way you do. Not just when it’s convenient. All the time.”

He finally sat, carefully, like he was afraid he might break the air between you.

“I don’t want to lose someone who gives love so fearlessly. Just because I was too afraid to give it back the same way.”

You didn’t speak right away.

But when you reached for his hand, he took it like it was the first thing grounding him in days.

Hongjoong:

It started with a message.

Not a call. Not a knock at your door. Just a text. Short. Almost too casual.

Hongjoong [2:03 PM]: hey… can we talk? maybe dinner tonight? my treat

You read it, then locked your phone.

He didn’t follow up with a second message. No explanation. No “I’m sorry.” Just a quiet request to meet, like that was enough to erase the weeks of feeling like you were always the one chasing after him.

Like his “is this about me not texting you back fast enough?” hadn’t gutted you the last time you saw him.

The silence that followed your heartbreak had been intentional. For once, you weren’t going to rush in with understanding or comfort. Not this time.

So you didn’t reply.

Not for ten minutes.

Not for an hour.

Not for four.

On the other side of the screen, Hongjoong’s knee was bouncing under the studio desk. His phone sat beside him, screen dark, taunting him.

Four hours.

He’d stared at your name. At the “Read 2:04 PM” notification.

He’d wanted to wait you out, tell himself you were just busy. Tell himself that you’d always forgiven him before, even when you shouldn’t have. That this time would be no different.

But something in his chest started to crack. Something cold.

Because deep down, he knew.

He knew this time wasn’t like before.

He drove to your place without texting again. Parked outside. Waited. Then walked up and knocked on your door.

When you opened it, he saw the shift immediately. Your expression wasn’t angry. It wasn’t emotional. It was polite. Careful. Distant.

“Hey,” he said, trying to keep it light. “You got my message, right?”

You nodded once. “I did.”

“And…?”

“I wasn’t sure if I should go.”

The words were calm, flat, the same tone he used to take when you’d ask if he was free and he’d say, “I’ll let you know.”

He swallowed. “I wanted to apologize.”

You didn’t step aside to let him in. You didn’t even shift your weight.

He fidgeted. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I said. About how I dismissed you. About how you used to reach out to me all the time and I’d just… reply when I felt like it. If I replied at all.”

Silence.

“I thought I was just busy. I thought you’d understand. But the truth is, I took you for granted. I thought you’d always be there.”

You didn’t react. Not even a flinch.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “And then today… when you left me on read for hours…”

He let out a breath. “So this is what it feels like, huh?”

Your eyes flicked up at that. Something in your jaw shifted. But you still didn’t speak.

“I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you were too much. Like your love was inconvenient.”

His voice lowered.

“I miss you. And not just the version of you that always sent me good luck texts or made dinner reservations when I forgot, I miss the you who believed in me even when I didn’t show up for you.”

You leaned against the doorframe. Not moving. Not softening.

And that’s when he got it, really got it.

Because now, he was the one waiting. The one hoping for warmth. The one left on read.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me right now. You don’t have to be ready. But I want to fix this. I want to stop treating you like a second thought and start treating you like you deserve.”

He paused, swallowing hard.

“Dinner’s still on the table. If you’ll come.”

The silence stretched for a beat. Then two.

Finally, you opened the door just a little wider.

“Where?” you asked, voice quiet but steady.

He blinked. “What?”

“Where’s dinner?”

Hope bloomed fast in his chest, raw, real, and maybe still fragile, but there.

He gave a half-laugh, half-breath of disbelief. “Anywhere you want.”

You stepped inside to grab your jacket without another word. But the door stayed open behind you.

And for the first time in a long time, Hongjoong understood exactly what it meant when someone shows up even after being hurt.

Because you did.

And this time, so would he.

Yunho:

You hadn’t seen him since the day he ended things.

He hadn’t yelled. There weren’t tears or a dramatic scene. Just that same calm voice he always used, too calm, like he was trying to stay numb.

“Maybe we’re not right for each other anymore.”

You’d stood there frozen. Because it wasn’t a fight. There wasn’t something to argue against. He had just walked out. Quietly. Like it wouldn’t hurt forever.

And for the past three weeks, you’d done everything you could to keep moving, but your chest never stopped feeling heavy.

So when the knock came, you almost didn’t answer it. Some part of you still hoped it was him, but hoping hurt.

And yet… it was him.

Yunho stood outside your door, hood pulled up, cap low, eyes glassy and red-rimmed like he hadn’t slept in days. His breath fogged in the evening air, but he didn’t speak, not at first.

He just looked at you, mouth slightly parted, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to be here.

“You left,” you said, voice low and flat.

“I know,” he whispered. “But I never really let go.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t invite him in. So he stood there, taking it, whatever you were ready to give, or not give at all.

“I broke up with you thinking it would make life easier,” he said. “That if we weren’t together, I’d have more time, less pressure, fewer expectations.”

He swallowed hard.

“But all I did was tear it apart. My days feel longer. My bed feels empty. And everything I used to love doesn’t make me feel anything now.”

You looked at him then, and the pain on his face nearly cracked you open.

“I kept telling myself you needed too much,” he went on, voice trembling. “But the truth is… I was the one who needed more. More patience. More strength. More you.”

His chest rose and fell shakily.

“You were never asking for too much. You just asked me to show up. To try. And I ran.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to crumble.

“I miss your voice in the morning. I miss your socks mixed in with mine. I miss knowing someone out there saw me, really saw me, and still stayed.”

His voice broke.

“I thought I could be okay without you. But I can’t. I don’t want to learn how.”

The silence between you buzzed like static.

“I’m not asking to erase what I did. I’m not asking you to forget how I hurt you. I just…” he stepped forward, breath catching, “I just need you to know, if there’s any part of you that still wants me, I’ll spend every day proving I won’t walk away again.”

And when you didn’t answer, he didn’t beg.

He just stood there, waiting. Willing to face the ache he left you with, even if all you gave him in return was the door slowly closing.

Yeosang:

You weren’t sure why you expected anything different from tonight.

You had tried, gently, to bring it up. How distant he’d been lately. How you felt like you were loving him through a fog, always reaching, never quite touching. You hadn’t raised your voice. You hadn’t accused him of anything.

But somewhere in the middle of your sentence, Yeosang had sighed and said:

“Why does everything have to be so dramatic with you?”

He hadn’t even looked at you when he said it. Just stared at his phone. Barely blinking. Barely present.

The silence that followed was heavier than any shouting match.

An hour passed. You expected the front door to open and close with him leaving. But instead…

A knock.

Soft. Three quick taps. Then stillness.

You didn’t move at first. But then

“Can I come in?” His voice was quiet, muffled by the wood. Not demanding. Not confident. Careful.

You opened the door slowly.

He looked… small. His hair was a little messy, like he’d run his hands through it too many times. His bottom lip was bitten red. And his eyes, his eyes wouldn’t quite meet yours.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he started. “About you being dramatic.”

You waited.

“I didn’t mean it. Not even a little.”

He stepped inside, slowly, hands in his hoodie sleeves, unsure of what to do with them. “You weren’t overreacting. You weren’t picking a fight. You were telling me how you feel, and I… dismissed it.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“I think sometimes I freeze when I don’t know how to respond. I act cold. Detached. Like that makes me look in control.” He finally looked at you, really looked. “But all it does is make the people who care about me feel like I don’t care back.”

You blinked, throat tight.

“I wasn’t taking you seriously. I wasn’t taking us seriously. Not tonight. Not the way I should’ve.”

He stepped a little closer, then stopped himself. “But I am now.”

There was a long pause. Then, with a shaky breath:

“You were right. I’ve been distant. I didn’t want to admit it because I don’t have a good reason for it. I’ve just been in my own head and shutting you out instead of letting you in.”

His voice dropped even lower, rough around the edges.

“You didn’t make everything dramatic. You made everything real. And I made you feel like your feelings were an inconvenience.”

The silence between you cracked a little when he added, softly

“I’m sorry.”

He held out his hand like he wasn’t sure you’d take it. “If I promise to really try, not just to listen, but to hear you, would you let me stay? Even if it’s just for tonight?”

You didn’t answer right away.

But the way he was looking at you, finally, fully, made you feel seen again.

And maybe that was the apology you needed more than anything.

San:

It had started small.

You’d reached for his hand in the kitchen, trying to slow him down, trying to talk about how you’d been feeling like he wasn’t really present lately, like his body was here but his mind was always somewhere else. On tour. In the studio. On his phone.

You’d said, “I just miss you.”

And he’d pulled his hand back like your touch burned.

“Why do you always need so much from me?”

That stopped everything.

You blinked, stunned. He wasn’t yelling, but it felt louder than any scream. You opened your mouth, but the rest of your words got caught somewhere in your chest. Instead, you walked away. Into the bedroom. Closed the door behind you, because if you didn’t, you’d fall apart in front of him.

San didn’t follow.

Not at first.

The door stayed shut. The apartment stayed quiet.

Until—

A knock.

Then his voice, muffled, low, wrecked:

“Baby, please open the door.”

You hesitated. You were still shaking. Still hearing his voice in your head, repeating that question like a cruel loop. Why do you always need so much from me?

But something about the sound of his voice, the crack in it, made you reach for the handle.

You opened the door to find San leaning against the frame, hands braced on either side like he was barely holding himself up. His eyes were rimmed with red. His cheeks flushed with emotion he couldn’t hide if he tried.

“I didn’t mean it,” he said immediately, desperately. “God, I didn’t mean it.”

You didn’t say a word. Your silence hit harder than any yelling ever could.

“I was overwhelmed and I said the first shitty, cowardly thing that came into my mouth. And the second I said it, I wanted to rip the words out of the air.”

He took a step closer, but didn’t touch you. “You don’t ask for too much. You never have. You ask for me. My time. My heart. And I’ve been so wrapped up in everything else, I forgot what it means to actually give that.”

He shook his head, jaw tight like he was trying not to cry.

“You tell me you miss me and I treat it like a burden? What the hell is wrong with me?”

Your throat burned.

He took a breath and pressed his palm flat against his chest. “It’s not that you ask too much of me. It’s that I’ve been giving you so little lately, it feels like anything at all is too much.”

His eyes met yours, glossy and pained.

“I love you,” he said, voice breaking. “I love you so much that it terrifies me. And sometimes when I feel like I’m failing you, I push instead of pulling you closer.”

He wiped at his face, chest heaving. “But I’m done doing that. If you’ll let me… I want to be better. For you. For us.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. His eyes followed it all the way down like it killed him to see it.

“I know I don’t deserve forgiveness right away,” he whispered. “But please, just tell me I didn’t ruin the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You stepped forward, slowly. Just enough that he didn’t have to guess.

And this time, when he reached for your hand, it wasn’t to pull away.

It was to hold on.

Mingi:

It had been days since the argument.

Only… it hadn’t been much of an argument. It had been you, speaking honestly, telling him that lately, you felt like a ghost in his life. Like you were always the one reaching out, always the one waiting. Waiting for a call, a text, a sign that he saw you.

And him?

He hadn’t fought. He hadn’t begged. He’d barely said anything at all.

Just clenched his jaw. Sat there. Silent.

You’d waited for something. Anything.

But all he gave you was quiet.

So you left.

He didn’t stop you.

And that silence, the one that followed, was worse than the one during the argument. Because now it stretched between two broken hearts.

Until tonight.

You were sitting on your bedroom floor, back against the bed, scrolling through old photos you’d told yourself not to look at. Laughing selfies. Half-blurry videos of him rapping under his breath in the car. Messages from nights when he used to say goodnight, love you without fail.

Then a knock.

You froze.

And when you opened the door, there he was.

Mingi. Hoodie damp from the light rain outside. Shoulders hunched, eyes red, hands wringing the hem of his sleeves like he needed something to hold onto.

“I didn’t know if you’d answer,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t.”

You didn’t speak. Not yet. He didn’t expect you to.

“I’ve never been good at saying things when I need to,” he started, voice trembling. “Sometimes I feel too much all at once, and it chokes me. And when you were telling me how you felt… I just sat there. Because I didn’t know how to fix it. And instead of trying, I shut down.”

His eyes were shining.

“I wasn’t cold because I didn’t care. I was quiet because I didn’t know how to show you that I did. But that’s not fair to you.”

He stepped closer, slowly.

“You told me you felt invisible. That you were tired of always being the one who reached out. And I should’ve said something. Anything. But I let the silence answer for me, and it said all the wrong things.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, but your lips stayed still.

He took a shaky breath. “I didn’t say it, but I felt it. I felt everything. I just… didn’t know how to show you.”

He lifted his eyes to yours, voice breaking.

“And then you walked away. And for the first time, I understood what silence really sounds like.”

He reached out, slow and careful, like he didn’t expect you to reach back.

“I don’t want to go another day wondering if I’ve lost the one person who loved me anyway. Loved me even when I wasn’t making it easy.”

The rain outside tapped against the windows like it was waiting too.

“If there’s still a piece of you that wants this, I swear, I’ll never leave you wondering again.”

And maybe he hadn’t said much before. Maybe he’d stayed quiet when it mattered most.

But tonight?

Tonight, he was finally speaking the words that had been living in the ache of his chest all along.

Wooyoung:

It started subtly.

A missed good morning text, just one. Then two. Then three.

No updates about what you were eating for lunch. No late-night selfies. No rambling voice notes about how your day went, or the weird cat you saw on the way home, or how your barista spelled your name hilariously wrong again.

At first, Wooyoung didn’t panic.

He figured you were busy. Or maybe your phone had died. You were always a little scatterbrained. He thought it was cute.

But by day four, the silence started to weigh differently.

He scrolled through your past messages, his own replies now glaring. A string of dry responses. A few late replies. Some heart emojis sent on autopilot. He started to see patterns, moments he brushed off your excitement, teased your need for check-ins with lines like:

“You really text me more than my mom.

You always laughed them off. Or so he thought.

Until tonight.

He called. For the first time in a while, it rang. You picked up.

“Hey,” your voice came through flat. Tired. Nothing like how it used to be, all soft affection and brightness just from hearing his name.

Wooyoung sat up in bed, heart kicking into gear. “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet lately.”

You hesitated. And that pause told him more than any words could.

“I just…” you finally said, “I didn’t want to be annoying. Or clingy. I figured I’d give you some space.”

Wooyoung’s heart stopped.

Your voice was distant, not cold, just… careful. Like you’d started building walls, brick by brick, while he wasn’t paying attention.

And then the realization hit.

His whole “God, you’re obsessed with me, aren’t you?” comment.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you,” you added quietly. “You probably enjoyed that I didn’t text anyway.”

“Stop,” he breathed, sitting up straighter, the words catching in his throat. “Don’t say that. Please.”

There was silence on your end. So he filled it.

He stood, pacing now, like movement might slow the panic rising in his chest.

“I could see you were pulling away, and I didn’t know why. But now I do. It’s because of me. Because I was too caught up in being cute or funny or whatever the hell I thought I was and I made you feel like your love was too much.”

You didn’t interrupt. Maybe because you didn’t believe him yet. Or maybe because part of you had been waiting for this, for him to see it.

“I thought it was harmless. I never meant to make you second-guess how you show up for me. I loved those messages. I love the way you care, the way you never make me guess how you feel.”

His voice cracked.

“You were never obsessive. Never clingy. You were consistent. You were present. And I was a goddamn idiot for not realizing how rare that is.”

Another beat passed. And then, gently:

“I miss you. I miss all of you, not just your messages, but the way you never hesitated to love me. Please don’t take that part of you away. Not because of me.”

Your breath hitched on the other end of the line.

“I’ll do better,” he promised. “I’ll be better. If you give me the chance.”

And for once, Wooyoung didn’t try to make it light. No joke. No wink. Just truth, raw and bare.

Because now, he knew better than to laugh at the kind of love most people spend a lifetime looking for.

Jongho:

He thought this was best for him, for the both of you.

Being apart would calm the frustration, the tension, the ache he couldn’t put into words.

So when he let you walk away, it wasn’t because he didn’t love you. It was because he didn’t know how to love you right, and instead of learning, he chose distance.

But the silence didn’t bring him peace.

It brought emptiness.

No more texts. No more playful eye rolls when he tried to hide a smile. No more soft hands reaching for his when he thought no one was looking. Just quiet. Cold, hollow quiet.

And the worst part? You didn’t come back.

Not after a few days.

Not after a week.

He thought you might. He thought maybe you’d fight for him, call him out like you always did. But this time, you respected his words. You gave him what he asked for.

And now he was the one left behind.

It was late when he showed up at your door. No text. No warning.

His hoodie was pulled tight over his head, eyes shadowed under the porch light. He looked nervous, the kind of nervous you only get when pride has been stripped away, when all that’s left is want.

You opened the door and froze.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, shoulders tense, eyes unreadable.

Then:

“Hey.”

Your arms crossed instinctively, more out of habit than hostility. “Why are you here, Jongho?”

He exhaled. “I… I thought I was doing the right thing.”

You didn’t answer.

“But every day since you left—” He paused, jaw tight. “—I’ve wanted you to come back. I just didn’t know if I deserved you.”

Your brows knit together. “Now you’re deciding this? After you told me I was too much, that I needed too much?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I was overwhelmed. I felt like I was drowning in everything, practice, expectations, and yeah… us. But not because of you. Because I wasn’t letting myself lean on you.”

You stared at him. He looked different. Tired. Softer. But still him.

“Then why say those things?”

“Because I was scared,” he said, eyes meeting yours. “Of needing someone. Of letting myself be vulnerable. You were always so sure about us, about me and I… wasn’t. You're not exhausting to love, I was making it exhausting”

Your expression faltered.

“I thought pushing you away would give me control,” he continued. “But all it did was make me miserable.”

Silence stretched between you, taut and fragile.

“I was wrong,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have let you go.”

You looked away, blinking quickly. “You hurt me.”

“I know,” he said immediately. “And I hate myself for it. I know I can’t undo that. But if you still have anything left in your heart for me… anything at all… I want to try again.”

You didn’t respond right away. The pain was still there, fresh enough that your walls hadn’t come down yet. But something in you cracked, seeing the way he looked at you now. The regret in his posture. The hope barely hanging on.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” you said softly.

He nodded, eyes glinting. “Then I’ll earn it. Day by day. Even if you don’t forgive me tonight.”

Another long pause.

Then you opened the door a little wider.

“Come in.”

Jongho stepped forward like he couldn’t believe it. His hand brushed yours lightly as he passed, hesitant, asking permission even in the smallest ways.

And maybe the pain wasn’t gone.

Maybe it wouldn’t be for a while.

But sometimes, love returns, not loudly, but slowly. Carefully. With trembling hands and quiet hearts that still believe in healing.

And Jongho was ready to fight for it.

Taglist: @e3ellie @jonghoslilstar @sugakooie @atztrsr @honsans-atiny-24

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[partyven0m]

‘I Wanna Hold Your Hand So Tight, I’m Gonna Break My Wrist’

In which… after weeks of distancing themself from you, kris appears outside your window in the middle of the night looking guilty as ever.

notes!!: [kris is not player] dont let the banner fool u ts is REALLYYY sappy & cringe... might be ooc! idfk! oh and no warnings, its not violent at all, title is just a ptv lyric ;B ok bye

It was impossible to tell whether you were asleep or not.

It was one of those weird nights you’d been having more and more lately, where your body is completely motionless and resting but your mind is racing a hundred miles an hour.

Your room was dark, quiet. The world felt still and everything was calm. Everything but your thoughts of course.

You thought about everything and nothing, some positive, some negative, and most about your classmate who lived down the street. 

Classmate. Is that all you two were now? Just… classmates? Two people who attend the same school with nothing between them but desks and silence …Whatever, you wouldn’t let it bother you. 

It’s not like you care. After all, people fall out all the time… But was that what this was? 

‘1 sheep, 2 sheep, 3 sheep —’

Because it didn’t feel natural. 

It didn’t feel quiet or normal. It felt sudden. Like one day they were there, and the next they weren’t. Like they were choosing everyone but you. Like someone flipped a switch in their head and decided you didn’t matter anymore. 

‘1 sheep, 2 sheep —’

But you don’t care, obviously.  

‘1 …’

And yet...

“Ugh.” You groaned as you opened your eyes for the first time in hours. 

You lifted your head slightly to peer over at your nightstand clock, sighing as you read the time. 

‘2:13’

Dropping your head back on your pillow, you couldn't help but stare at the ceiling while your mind continued to spiral.

That was until, you heard a knock on your window.

At first, you thought maybe it was your imagination. Just your brain playing tricks on you again, like it always did on nights like this. But then-

Knock knock.

Your heart jumped.

You didn’t move. You didn’t even breathe. For a second, all you could do was stare at the ceiling and pretend you didn’t hear it.

Maybe it was nothing. Just the wind. Or a tree. Or—

Knock knock knock.

Your chest tightened. Every sound felt louder now. The soft hum of your clock, your breathing, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You sat up slowly, eyes locked on the window across the room. The curtains were drawn, thank god. But somehow, not being able to see what was out there made it even worse.

What if someone was watching you? What if they’d been standing there the whole time?

Knock...

That one was softer. Almost careful. But somehow, it scared you more.

You swallowed hard, your body moving on its own now. Legs swinging off the bed, blanket slipping off your shoulders. Your feet hit the cold floor. You hesitated, then took a shaky step forward.

You didn’t want to check. You really didn’t want to check.

But almost unconsciously, your hand reached out, hovering just inches from the curtain. You stood there for a second, heart hammering, breath caught in your throat.

Then, before you could chicken out, you yanked it open.

And there, standing just outside your window in the dim blue light,

was Kris.

They didn’t move. They just looked at you, red eyes calm but unreadable, face half-lit by the moonlight.

For a moment, you couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything but stare.

It was them.

It was actually them.

And somehow, that scared you even more.

They stood there. Eyes locked on you through the glass.

You didn’t know what you were expecting, maybe some shadowy creep or your imagination messing with you, but not this. Not Kris.

Their expression didn’t give you much. But something about the way they looked at you, calm like this wasn’t weird at all, made your stomach twist.

They raised a hand in a small, awkward wave.

“Hey.. you.”

You didn’t respond. You just stared for a second, then blinked hard snapping out of it, rushing to unlatch the window. The cold air hit your face as you quickly pushed it open.

Kris stepped back just a little to give you room. You leaned halfway out, arms resting on the windowsill.

“…What are you doing here?”

They looked away, then back at you. Their voice soft.

“I don’t know.” they admitted. “I just… needed to see you.”

Your brows pulled together slightly. You didn’t know how to feel. Confused mostly, maybe a little weirded out. A little… hurt?

You weren’t even sure why their recent behavior bothered you so much. It’s not like you and Kris were best friends or anything. You never spent weekends at each other’s houses, never stayed up texting, never told each other secrets.

You just… existed near each other. Sat next to each other in class. Walked home together (when they could have very well just driven back with their mom). Talked, sometimes, not much, but enough to make it feel like you were one of the few people they cared about.

And maybe that was enough back then.

Because Kris didn’t really talk to anyone. 

They kept to themselves. Quiet when they had nothing to say, never truly involved with anything, always in their own world. At least… they used to be.

But with you it felt different. They’d make eye contact. They’d walk beside you instead of behind. They’d listen when you spoke, and laugh at all your stupid jokes.  

So when they started pulling away, not gradually, but suddenly, it felt like something broke. Like you'd made it all up. Like they were never really with you in the first place.

And now here they were at your window at 2 a.m. like none of that had ever happened.

You swallowed, suddenly too aware of how cold the night air was against your skin.

“…Are you okay?” you asked, quieter this time.

Kris didn’t answer right away. Their gaze drifted past you, toward your room.

Then finally,

“…Can I come in?”

.       .      .

The clock ticked softly, and the leaves rustled against the window.

You sat on your bed, legs tucked close to your chest, arms wrapped around them loosely. Kris sat on the floor by the window, knees pulled up, back resting against the wall. They hadn’t said a word since coming in. Barely even moved.

You kept glancing at them, waiting. Hoping. The longer the silence dragged, the more you worried.

Until finally, they spoke up.

“…I know I’ve been different.”

You didn’t say anything, deciding to let them talk.

“I don’t really know how to explain it” they said, still not looking at you. “But I’m… I’m sorry.”

Your fingers curled slightly against your blanket.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t care. Or like you did something wrong.”

 A pause. Then,  

“You didn’t.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Kris shifted, turning their head just a little. Not enough to meet your eyes, but enough to let you know that they wanted to.

“I just…” They hesitated. “I might keep messing up. I might do stupid things again. Things that make it seem like I don’t… like I’m not trying. But I am.”

That’s when they finally looked up.

“I don’t want to push you away.”

“Then why do you?”

The words came out smaller than you meant. Not accusingly,  just… honest. 

Kris didn’t answer right away. Of course they didn’t. You weren’t even sure they could.

You glanced up, just enough to catch the way they tensed up. The way their eyes dropped again, like even holding your gaze was too much.

“…I don’t know.”

And somehow, that made it worse. Or maybe it made it better. You couldn’t tell.

Kris shifted again, arms hugging their knees tighter.

“I wish I could say it’s not gonna happen again” they said softly. “But it might. And I don’t want to lie to you.”

You swallowed.

For a second, neither of you spoke. You could hear the wind outside. The faint sound of your heater turning on. The beating of your own heart in your ears.

“…Then why are you here?” You asked before you could think. The words came out more bitter and harsher than intended. 

Kris was silent.

You almost thought they weren’t going to answer. But they did.

“…Because I wanted to be.”

You frowned. “Now?”

A small nod.

“Why now?”

Kris’s hands fidgeted in their lap. Their eyes dropped to the floor for what felt like the hundredth time, and for a long second, you thought that was all you were going to get.

“…Because I finally could.”

You stared at them, confused. “What?”

They shook their head. “I’m sorry. I can’t explain it.”

Your brows furrowed. “But why—”

“I can’t tell you.” They interrupted, not loudly, but sharp enough to make you drop it. “I want to. But I can’t.”

You were quiet.

They looked away, hands tightening into fists.

“I just needed… I needed to see you. As me. Just for a little while.”

Kris didn’t say anything after that.

And really… what else could they say?

You let out a deep sigh, frustrated but not wanting to push them further away.

The air was quiet again, but it wasn’t sharp or heavy this time. It was light, like they had ran out of words to say, and you had ran out of energy to care.

You shifted a little on the bed, before slowly sliding off the edge, making your way towards the floor beside them. 

Neither of you looked at the other. You just sat there, shoulder to shoulder, knees pulled to your chest.

After a moment, Kris leaned into you, just a little. Then, quietly, their head rested against your shoulder.

The two of you stayed like that for a while. Listening to the quiet.

But this time it was you who broke it,

“Not gonna lie, I thought you were like a demon or something.”

There was a pause.

And then Kris let out a small, quiet laugh.

A smile tugged at the corners of their mouth.

. . .

a/n2!! first fic on here! sry if it was rlly fast paced and doodoo, its been MONTHS since ive written anything! I lowk have another account where I used to post regularly but then I kept getting pressured to finish a series and eventually quit so now I’m posting here bc it’d be rlly awkward if my first post back is a randomass dr fic LMAO ok that’s all love u bye

[dazzlingjaeyun]

ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ – ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊᴏɴɢꜱᴇᴏɴɢ

brother's best friend!jay x fem!reader

୨୧ genre: smut, MDNI | words: 4.3k | cw: mean!jay, brat!reader, a looot of bickering lol, slight degradation, jay is a little manipulative, nipple play?, oral (f & m receiving, head pusher!jay), unprotected sex (hell no), creampie (+ lmk if i missed anything!!) ୨୧

hanna says: biggest thank you to my favorite jay girly, my other half and the one who motivated me to start writing on here in the first place. thank you for proofreading a lot and for letting me yap 24/7, this one's for you mwah @brklynbabyjay

mature content under cut, minors do not interact!

2:47am, your phone read when you grabbed it with a sigh after tossing and turning in your bed for what felt like an eternity. the heat in your room felt oppressing – the flimsy sheets might as well have been a double blanket and your pajamas felt like a winter coat despite barely covering any skin.

with a sigh, you got up from bed and tiptoed to the kitchen. with each step down the stairs you felt the air getting just a little cooler and your tense muscles relaxing just a little more.

you flicked on the light above the sink, before grabbing a glass from the top shelf. it slipped right through your sweaty palms and landed directly in the sink before you could catch it. it didn't break, but the noise cut through the silence of the night so loudly and suddenly that you were sure it could have woken up at least half of the neighborhood.

"fuck," you whispered to yourself, wiping off your sweaty palms on your silky shorts and carefully grabbing the glass from the sink.

just as you thought no one had heard your little accident, a sudden, sleep-laced voice broke the silence again and startled you to a point you almost dropped the glass another time.

"are you kidding me?"

you didn't have to turn around to know it was jay's oh so humble self standing in the kitchen door.

"enlighten me, what's your problem this time?" you asked, although you knew the answer. you kept your back to him as you filled the glass with ice cubes and cold water, waiting for him to reply.

jay's jaw clenched at your words. you had woken him up, just as he'd fallen asleep after hours of tossing and turning on the sofa, trying to somehow ignore the heat that pressed down on him like a weight too heavy to carry. and now you had the audacity to ask stupid questions?

"it took me forever to fall asleep and you wake me up cause you can't even hold onto a glass?" he snapped. his voice sounded less sleepy now – still raspy but regaining the usual edge he had to it whenever he was talking to you.

he was your brother's best friend and you'd known him since forever. you were sure the two of you had gotten along back then, when jake brought him over for the first time – sometime in his first year of high school when you were still in middle school. but just a little later, he'd started to pick fights with you every chance he got, which eventually led to him mostly ignoring you, and if he did talk to you, his voice always had that annoyed undertone.

for a moment, you didn't say anything, bringing the glass to your lips and taking a sip, letting the cold run down your throat and hoping it would somehow also cool off the anger that started to bubble up in your chest.

as you stayed silent, jay's gaze remained on you, only now noticing the light blue silk pajamas you were wearing. they were unnervingly short – more skin than fabric, really – and it annoyed him even more how the shorts outlined your ass perfectly, your plush cheeks just slightly exposed from how little coverage the piece of clothing provided.

when you finally turned around, his eyes shot up to your face immediately. you took in the sight in front of you: jay's messy hair and the way his shirt clung to his torso a little more than it usually would – you were pleased to see that he was suffering from the summer heat as much as you were.

"well," you broke the staring contest between the two of you, involuntarily trying to look meaner than the other, "if you didn't sleep in my living room, maybe you wouldn't have to bother me."

jay's eyebrows shot up at your remark. "or if you were a decent person for once and weren't so inconsiderate–"

"i'm inconsiderate?" you interrupted him. "that's rich coming from someone who moved in here two weeks ago and thinks he can make the rules," you huffed.

jay's jaw clenched another time as he took a step toward you, but you didn't back down. you looked up at him, returning the same fiercey look he gave you.

"you think it's fun living with you of all people?" he asked through gritted teeth, his taller figure hovering over you.

"no, but it's not my fault your girlfriend kicked you out," you replied, keeping your voice steady although your heart started to pound in your chest at the way his eyes narrowed slightly. yet, a tiny pang of amusement at how your words seemed to affect him joined the nervousness of wondering how far you could push him before he snapped.

oh, now you were curious.

"honestly, i'm not surprised," you added, your voice not faltering even when he stepped so close your bodies practically touched. "if you were only half as much of an asshole–"

"shut. up." he snapped, accenting each word.

the corners of your lips shot up into a smug grin. "can't stand me talking back to you?"

"i can't stand you in total."

"i never would have guessed," you replied sarcastically, taking a step back to casually lean your back against the kitchen counter. you brought the glass of water up to your neck letting the cold condensed water on its outside cool your skin. "wonder why you hate me so much, though. i don't remember pissing in your cereal when we were kids."

jay's jaw tightened even more. he was so annoyed. there you were, standing in the stupid kitchen with your stupidly short pajamas showing way too much of your skin that looked so. stupidly. soft. and you were bashing him, although he should be the one to talk you down right now. god, he couldn't stand you and how fucking hot you looked when you were snappy.

"you just make it hard not to," he replied, his voice laced with more annoyance than you'd ever heard from him before.

you chuckled at his words, the sound making his blood boil even more. what was so funny about him being annoyed, borderline angry?

"listen, jay bae," you said sarcastically as you put the glass down on the counter behind you, "if you want to stay with me and jake, you'll stop acting like i'm some kind of tragedy. you either ignore me, or you at least pretend to get along with me. deal?"

for a few moments, he just looked at you, his eyes still full of frustration. then, he suddenly stepped forward, his hand reaching for the back of your neck and his lips crashing onto yours harshly.

you were too shocked by his sudden action and the rush of warmth flooding through you to react. he pulled back just as quickly as he'd leaned in, leaving your lips cold with the shadow of his, and looked at you as if searching your eyes for a reaction.

"what the fuck?" you asked, still taken aback.

you wanted to take a step back, but the kitchen counter was already pressing against your back. jay smirked at the shocked expression on your face.

"i said shut up," he repeated his words from earlier that night, as if that would suddenly validate that he'd kissed you. he placed his hands on the counter directly next to your body, trapping you between him and the cold marble surface.

"you don't get to–"

he leaned in again, his lips brushing along the curve of your neck. you felt his breath against your skin, and despite the heat he radiated, you shivered – your words caught in your throat.

you could have pushed him away – should have pushed him away, really – but instead, you stood there, too stunned to move, with your heart violently pounding in your chest.

his hands found their way from the kitchen counter to your hips, fingertips pressing into your clothed skin in a way that made you almost feel his frustration.

the warmth of his breath brushed against your neck, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes. you could feel your breath coming faster and your mind growing foggy as his lips traced a line to your collarbone, leaving a heat that shot right down to your core.

“w-what are you doing?” your voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it was enough to make him pause.

"pretending that we get along," his lips brushed against your neck as he replied.

your breath hitched as he slid one of his hands under the thin fabric of your silk top, his fingers digging into the skin on your waist as he held you.

you wanted to push him away, really. everything told you to do so. but instead your hand found its way to the back of his head, pushing him towards your neck again. you couldn't make sense of it, but the way his lips brushed harshly against your skin, and the way you fisted his hair slightly whenever his teeth grazed against your skin, felt like you could finally let out the frustration that had been building up over the past two weeks of living with him.

"you're so goddamn annoying," he mumbled, pulling away from your neck only to push your top up your torso, over your head, and mindlessly discarded it on the floor.

just as you were about to cover your bare skin, he attached his lips to it again, moving from your neck to your collarbones and down to your chest. his hands found their way to your shoulders, holding you in place as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and causing you to shiver, despite the hot summer air. you bit your lip to hold back a moan, yet you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his tongue against you.

"speechless suddenly?" he asked as he pulled off and brought his lips to the other side of your chest.

"fuck you," you mumbled back before quickly pressing your lips together. your fingers were still tangled in his hair, keeping him close to you, but you would not give him the satisfaction of a moan.

"a little more patience," he grinned, before swirling his tongue around your sensitive skin another time.

his words suddenly made you hyperaware of the situation. you shouldn't have let him kiss you in the first place, much less help him to take off your top by voluntarily lifting up your arms. as the realization hit, you quickly pulled him off of you.

"you're disgusting," you said, trying your best to not sound as breathless as you felt.

"oh please," he grabbed your wrist to hold you in place as you attempted to pick up your shirt, "the way you're acting, you're practically asking for it."

"asking?" you echoed in disbelief. he was insufferable. "you have too much of an ego, don't you think?"

jay narrowed his eyes. "no, i think it's the truth," he said, letting go of your wrist and leaning down to your neck another time.

you swallowed hard. "stop playing games, jay," you said in a warning tone, yet you didn't push him away as his teeth grazed your skin again.

"you started the 'game', and you're losing it, darling," he replied, the nickname dripping with sarcasm.

you hated to admit he was right. maybe it was just your sleep-deprived mind, or maybe it was cause the air was so unnervingly thin, but his touch sent shiver after shiver down your spine, covering you in goosebumps and sending waves of heat through your body all at once. even his annoying words started settling between your legs and no matter how much you pressed your things together, it just wouldn't stop.

"look at you," jay said in an amused tone as his eyes flicked down to your legs, your thighs subconsciously rubbing against each other, "bet you soaked your pretty panties for me and i didn't even touch you."

a wave of heat shot up to your face. you didn't know if it was from embarassment or anger, but you didn't bother trying to hide it. "oh please, jay, you couldn't even make me cum if your life depended on it," you said, the words slipping past your lips before you could stop them.

he looked up, his eyes flashing with something you didn't understand as they met yours. "bet," was all he said before sliding your flimsy shorts down your legs, making sure to cup and squeeze your ass just once after he'd taken them off.

before you could react, he knelt down in front of you, harshly grabbed your thighs to spread your legs, and pressed his tongue flat against your clothed core.

your knees buckled slightly at the sudden contact, and you swore you could feel jay's stupid grin. "like i said. soaked." he murmured as he pulled the wet piece of fabric to the side.

"shut up," you whispered, not quite trusting your voice when the way you felt his breath against your wet core already caused you to clench around nothing.

"someone's sensitive," he whispered back, the airflow hitting your skin yet again.

"i said shut up," you repeated, and without wasting another thought, you grabbed his hair and harshly pulled him to where you needed him the most.

jay immediately licked a stripe along your folds, humming in satisfaction. "mouth so dirty but your pussy's so sweet," he mumbled against your skin before focusing his tongue on your clit.

your eyes fluttered shut, only to open again shortly after, as you failed to suppress a quiet moan. the sound went straight to jay's cock, causing him to hum against you another time as he sped up his movements, eager to pull another moan out of you.

he succeeded when he pushed his tongue into your leaking hole and his nose brushed against your clit. you sounded so sweet, he could cum only listening to you – but he'd never admit that.

you pulled on his hair harsher, subconsciously bucking your hips forward for him to reach deeper, as your legs started to shake more. jay grabbed one of them and rested it on his shoulder, never stopping to lap up everything your cunt gave him.

just as you felt your orgasm approaching, your legs closing around jay's head with a force that almost made him dizzy, he pulled back.

your eyes shot open and you looked down to him with an almsot bewildered expression on your face. he looked so hot with your slick covering his lips, his chin and parts of his nose, but right now you really just wanted to punch that stupid grin off his lips.

"seriously?" you asked as he stood up and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. "i was so close to–"

"so i could make you cum," he cut you off with the same annoying grin.

you didn't reply. instead, you tried to bend down to grab your clothes from the kitchen floor, but jay held your wrist again.

as he didn't let go even after you'd shot him a glare, you rolled your eyes. "congratulations, jay. do you want a trophy for your efforts? i didn't think you were so committed to win the gold medal in orgasm delivery–"

"shut up, will you?" jay interrupted, the smirk quickly replaced by his usual annoyed demeanor. "you're playing so hard to get when–"

"maybe you're just hard to want," you cut him off again, but he only raised his eyebrows.

"right," he replied, sliding one finger through your folds and collecting your wetness, the sudden contact drawing a surprised whimper from you. you quickly bit your lip, mentally cursing yourself for letting the sound slip.

"doesn't seem like 'hard to want'."

you glared at him for a moment, before averting your gaze. without another word, jay grabbed your arms and turned both of you around so he was standing with his back against the counter and you were in front of him.

before you could open your mouth to speak, jay placed his hands on your shoulders and firmly pressed down, causing you to sink to your knees in front of him.

"so much talking when you could just put that damn mouth of yours to use," he murmured.

the words made you gulp, but for some reason, they also sent a new wave of excitement through you.

one of his hands moved to cup your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. "let's see if you can only talk big or if you're actually useful for something, hm?" he asked, the tone of his voice almost soft.

the question annoyed you as much as it challenged you. eager to prove him wrong, you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his shorts, pulling them and his boxers down in one go, and only hesitating slightly when his hard cock sprang free.

"backing down?" jay cooed, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

you didn't reply, just wrapped one hand around his length, gliding your thumb over his leaking slit to use the precum as lubricant, before slowly pumping your hand up and down.

jay hissed at the contact, his hand tightening around your chin and the other gripping the counter behind him to steady himself.

his reaction made your lips curl up in a victorious smile, but you knew you could do better. you stopped your movements, waited for him to look down at you with a puzzled face, and licked from his base up to his very tip. you swirled your tongue around it just for a second before releasing it again while looking up at him through your lashes.

jay groaned quietly, his hand leaving your chin and finding its way to the back of your head instead, where he gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail before pushing your head closer to him again. his other hand reached to tap on your lips, which you wordlessly parted just enough to close them around his tip again.

jay pushed your head closer, letting you take his length into your mouth – inch by inch until you gagged around him and he grinned smugly.

"can't take more?" he teased, but you were determined to wipe that damn grin off his face.

you breathed in through your nose and moved your head forward in one go until your nose hit his pelvis and you could feel his tip against the back of your throat, swallowing around it to suppress another gag.

the feeling drew a surprised moan from jay that caused you to look up at him with teary eyes. you swallowed again, humming in satisfaction as you received the same reaction.

"c-can't believe you're actually good at something," jay stammered. "do that again."

you obeyed, the feeling causing his eyes to flutter shut and his head to shoot back with another quiet moan.

he slowly pulled your head off his cock only to harshly push it back forward again after you'd swirled your tongue around his tip. he continued, his movements growing faster and rougher as his hips started to thrust forward every time he brought your head close – hitting the back of your throat each time, while you tried your best to not gag and he tried his best to not moan too loudly, not wanting jake to hear.

your hands reached to grab his thighs, attempting to somehow ground yourself when he slammed his hips forward another time. your jaw was tense, your eyes were burning from the tears that dared to roll down your cheeks, your head hurt from the force with which jay pulled your hair together, and yet all you could think about was finally making him cum and proving him wrong.

as his hips stuttered and his breaths started coming ragged, he held you in place, your nose pressed against his abdomen and the tip of his cock against the back of your throat. you eagerly hollowed your cheeks and swallowed again, pushing him over the edge.

"stay there," he ordered in between quiet moans. you felt his cock twitching as ropes of his cum ran down your throat. you quickly swallowed, yet couldn't stop a little from running down your chin as he finally pulled off.

you quickly wiped your chin with the back of your hand and stood up on shaky legs, shivering at how your arousal made your thighs stick together.

jay looked at you, his chest still rising and falling quickly. "hard to want, hm?"

"my god, fine. just fuck me already," you replied, your voice laced with frustration, which caused his lips to curl up into a little smile.

he turned you around and firmly pressed his hand on your back to guide your chest down onto the cool marble countertop.

"beg for it," he said in the most casual way possible.

you turned your head back and looked at him in disbelief. "seriously now?" you tried to stand up straight, not willing to feed his enormous ego more by begging, but his hand stayed firm on your back as his other slowly pumped his cock a few times before he guided his tip up and down your sensitive folds.

you clenched your fists, trying to move your hips back against his, but jay stepped back.

"i said beg for it," he repeated sternly.

when you hesitated, he lifted his hand from your back, attempting to step away fully. you squinted your eyes and mumbled out a quiet "please." you felt the embarrassment wash over you, but you just really wanted to finally feel him.

"what was that?" jay asked, stepping closer again.

you sighed. "please, jay," you repeated, still quiet but a little clearer than before. a hint of relief rushed through you as you felt jay's hand on your back and the tip of his cock against your needy hole again.

"please what?"

screw that. you were desperate but not desperate enough to ruin your pride entirely.

"you know what, fuck off, i–"

the words caught in your throat as jay suddenly pushed his entire length into your aching hole, knocking the air out of you. the stretch was so intense that you desperately searched for something to hold onto, but jay didn't give you any time to adjust as he pulled out almost entirely only to snap his hips forward harshly again, drawing a chocked moan from you when his tip hit your cervix.

"gonna finally put you in your fucking place," he said, hissing at the way your walls sucked him in so perfectly with each thrust.

"j-jay..." you whimpered once the pain gave way to pleasure, hating yourself for giving in to him, but also not caring enough to make him stop.

he groaned lowly at the way his name rolled off your tongue, mixing perfectly with the sounds of your wetness and his skin slapping against yours.

"takin' me so well," he mumbled in between his thrusts. you felt so warm and tight around him, the moans you tried to muffle clouding his mind until there was nothing left but you and the way you felt.

the sudden praise caused you to clench around him involuntarily. his hands moved to grab your hips, holding you in place as he continued to pound into you. he looked down to where your bodies connected, watching as his cock disappeared in your pretty cunt with each thrust.

"you're so stupid," he muttered, slipping back into the way he alway spoke to you, "for ever letting other idiots have their way with you when i was right there all the time," he blabbered out, slamming his hips into yours even harder.

you wanted to speak back, but each thrust knocked the air out of your lungs all over again as you placed your hands on top of his to somehow ground yourself.

"so tight for me," he mumbled at the way your walls clenched around him the closer you came to your high. "mhh, so wet"

"o-only for you," you managed to slur, way too far gone to realize what you'd just said, only focusing on the tight knot in your stomach that was dangerously close to snapping.

"jay, i-", you cut off as your orgasm washed over you in waves, each feeling heavier than the one before. jay brought one of his hands to your mouth to cover it, muffling your moans as his own high hit him at how strongly you clenched down on him.

you felt his cock twitching inside you before the warm ropes of his cum painted your walls white. he thrusted into you a few more times, sloppy and less energetic, riding out his high, before coming to a halt.

he took a few seconds to catch his breath. then, he quickly pulled out of you, the sudden feeling making you hiss. as you slowly lifted your chest from the counter, turning around on wobbly knees, jay had already pulled up his shorts again.

he bent down, picked up your pajamas and threw them in your direction. you caught them, wordlessly putting them back on as the reality of what had just happened started to crash down on you.

jay walked past you, opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, before giving you one last glance and heading toward the door.

"wait," you held him back. he turned around to look at you, raising his eyebrow in question.

"what," you hesitated, "what... are we doing now?" you asked, averting your eyes and looking at the floor in front of you instead.

jay shrugged. "pretending that it never happened," he said casually before walking out the door.

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

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[jungwnies]

f1 grid (2/2) | come back to bed

୨ৎ : featuring : kimi antonelli, ollie bearman, yuki tsunoda, isack hadjar, liam lawson, lance stroll, and franco colapinto (click here for part one) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by @makanirock05) : you tell your f1 boyfriend to “come back to bed” while they're gaming or doing something and when they come in the room you flash them ;) (tiktok trend)

୨ৎ : genre : comedy / tik-tok trend ୨ৎ : tws : slightly suggestive ୨ৎ : word count : 2657

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ 10k event | masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : ADDING FRANCO BC HES BACK ON THE GRID 😩 MANS IS FINE SHYT ISTGGGGGGG

ʚ・kimi antonelli

kimi was hunched over the coffee table, assembling the most complicated lego kit you’d ever seen. he’d been at it for almost two hours, tongue poking out slightly in concentration, completely unaware of the passing time — or the fact that you were lying in bed alone, waiting.

you peeked around the corner from the bedroom, arms crossed, wearing one of his hoodies and a very knowing smile.

“kimi,” you called softly.

he didn’t look up. “mhm?”

“come back to bed.”

“soon,” he said distractedly. “i just need to finish this axle part. it’s not lining up.”

you leaned on the doorframe, hoodie slipping off one shoulder. “are you sure you don’t want to take a break?”

“i’m fine, just—wait, no, i dropped it—wait—”

you walked into the room, slow and casual, then let the hoodie fall to the floor — leaving you standing there in a tiny pair of shorts and one of his old karting shirts, oversized and barely covering anything.

kimi looked up to ask for another piece—and completely froze.

dead silent.

eyes wide.

brain: blue screen of death.

you blinked at him, all fake innocence. “problem?”

he just… stared.

mouth slightly open, brick still in hand, like he wasn’t sure if he should keep building or faint.

“i—uh—you—” he swallowed. “you’re not even—you can’t just do that.”

“do what?”

“you know what.” he looked down, then back up again, very much trying to stay respectful but absolutely flustered beyond belief. “you did that on purpose.”

you giggled. “maybe.”

he tried to recover, squaring his shoulders and putting the lego piece down very gently. “okay. i’m… i’m coming. to bed. that is.”

“smooth,” you teased, backing up toward the hallway.

kimi stood, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks visibly pink. “you really don’t play fair.”

“nope.”

and when he followed you — quietly, shyly, still red-faced — you could tell he was already planning how to one day get you back.

just as soon as he finished that damn lego car.

ʚ・ollie bearman

you leaned against the doorway, watching him from the hall with crossed arms and a smirk tugging at your lips.

“ollie,” you said gently.

he looked up instantly, eyes wide. “yeah?”

“come back to bed.”

he grinned, all cheeky and boyish. “babe, i’m almost done with this. two more sections and i swear—”

you tilted your head. “you sure?”

“promise.”

you took a few slow steps into the room.

and then, with absolutely zero warning, let the hoodie you were wearing drop to the floor.

ollie looked up, saw skin, and immediately froze.

his smile faltered.

his mouth opened. then closed. then opened again.

his hand, which had been holding a puzzle piece, slowly tipped it onto the floor like he’d forgotten it existed.

“wait. wait—wait. are you serious?”

you said nothing. just blinked innocently at him, standing there with bare legs and a wicked little smile.

“is this a test?” he asked, half-laughing, half-panicking. “because if it is, i’m failing. immediately.”

you took another step closer. “is it working?”

“i literally don’t even remember what i was doing.”

“you were doing a puzzle.”

“a what?” he blinked. “oh my god.”

you burst out laughing as he scrambled to his feet, face fully red, ears practically glowing. “that’s it. that’s illegal. you should warn people before doing that.”

“where’s the fun in that?”

he rubbed the back of his neck, still flustered and absolutely not looking directly at you. “i had like five more pieces.”

“and now?”

“now i have nothing. no thoughts. no puzzle. just you. being a menace.”

you walked over and kissed his cheek. “so you’re coming to bed?”

“i’m running.”

and he did. scooped up the hoodie you dropped and tossed it over your shoulder like a panicked boy scout, leading you toward the bedroom with zero regard for the abandoned puzzle.

the front wing was never finished.

and he didn’t care in the slightest.

ʚ・yuki tsunoda

yuki was standing in the kitchen, headphones in, yelling into his phone while aggressively stirring something in a pan.

“i told you to cover the inside. no, i don’t care if you were blocked—then block back!” he barked, clearly mid-gaming call while multitasking dinner. you weren’t even sure what he was cooking anymore — it looked chaotic, smelled amazing, and was definitely being stirred like it owed him money.

you watched him from the doorway, wearing nothing but one of his oversized shirts and a smug little grin.

“yuki,” you called sweetly.

he didn’t hear you, too busy slamming the spatula into the pan and yelling, “i literally had that kill—”

“yuki,” you said again, louder this time.

he turned his head slightly, one earbud falling out. “huh?”

“come back to bed.”

“i’m making dinner, baby. almost done—five minutes!” he said cheerfully, instantly softening for you before turning right back to the stove like he hadn’t just melted at the sound of your voice.

you waited.

then let the shirt fall to the floor.

yuki turned again — and froze.

deadpan.

for exactly one full second.

and then: “are you serious right now?!”

you bit your lip to keep from laughing. “i asked nicely.”

“you—you didn’t warn me—oh my god—” he dropped the spatula. it hit the floor with a dramatic clank. his phone slid off the counter, and he made no effort to catch it.

“i’m gonna die.”

“you could’ve come back to bed earlier,” you said innocently, walking a little closer.

“i’m in cargo shorts!” he yelled, pointing to himself in disbelief. “this isn’t even hot. i’m sweaty. i smell like garlic!”

you giggled. “and yet you’re still staring.”

he covered his face with both hands like he was shielding himself from the sun. “because i’m weak. i’m so weak.”

“you want me to put the shirt back on?”

“no. i mean—yes—i mean—” he groaned dramatically and marched toward you, still muttering under his breath in rapid-fire japanese.

when he reached you, he wrapped you in the same shirt you’d just dropped, pulling you into his chest with an almost possessive grip.

“you’re evil,” he grumbled. “so sexy. but evil.”

“you’re yelling at a garlic pan and still managing to be cute.”

he mumbled something that sounded like “unfair” and “i need to lie down,” then scooped you up without warning and stormed toward the bedroom like a gremlin on a mission.

dinner burned.

neither of you cared.

ʚ・isack hadjar

isack was lying on his stomach across the bed, earbuds in, fully locked into whatever video he was watching on his phone. from what you could hear, it was race footage — naturally. he had his notes app open too, probably scribbling down split times like he wasn’t supposed to be on break.

you leaned against the bedroom doorframe in nothing but his hoodie, which barely reached your thighs. you gave him five minutes. then ten. then fifteen.

he didn’t look up once.

you took a slow breath. then:

“isack.”

“hmm?” he answered, still focused.

“come back to bed.”

“i am in bed.”

“you’re in analysis mode.”

he grinned without looking. “almost done, i swear. let me just finish watching this sector. it’s insane how much—”

you dropped the hoodie.

silence.

his phone thumped onto the comforter as his entire body tensed.

he slowly — and you mean slowly — turned his head.

and then just blinked at you.

once.

twice.

then sat up so fast the earbuds popped right out. “what the hell was that?”

you smiled, completely unfazed. “motivation.”

“you can’t just—” he cut himself off, clearly buffering. “that’s not allowed. there should be rules for this.”

“you were ignoring me.”

“i was studying.”

you took a step closer, completely calm. “am i distracting you now?”

he covered his face with both hands. “i’m not built for this kind of psychological warfare.”

you sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the covers over your lap. “you’re still staring.”

“of course i’m still staring! you’re—you’re naked and smug about it!”

“is it working?”

he dropped his hands and gave you the most pained, overwhelmed expression you’d ever seen on him. “it’s working so well i think i forgot what a track map looks like.”

you leaned in closer. “do you want me to put the hoodie back on?”

“don’t threaten me like that.”

you giggled, and he groaned, flopping back onto the bed with a dramatic sigh.

“i just wanted to get through one afternoon without you completely ruining my brain.”

“you’ll live.”

“barely.”

he rolled onto his side, hand sliding over to lace your fingers with his. “you know i’m gonna try this on you one day, right?”

“i look forward to it,” you said, smiling as he finally pulled you into him — hoodie forgotten, phone abandoned, and all thoughts of sector times fully wiped from his mind.

ʚ・liam lawson

liam was halfway through folding laundry — shirtless, boxers riding a little low on his hips, clearly thinking he was being domestic and responsible.

and to be fair… he was.

but you were bored.

alone in bed.

and not in the mood to let your boyfriend pretend folding socks was more important than you.

so you padded softly into the doorway, leaned against the frame, and watched him.

“liam,” you said sweetly.

he looked over his shoulder, that boyish smile instantly tugging at his lips. “hey, angel.”

“come back to bed.”

he laughed under his breath, tossing a shirt into the drawer. “babe, i’m literally two towels away from being your housewife. gimme a minute.”

you tilted your head. “you sure you want to finish that?”

“positive.” he smirked. “nothing gets me going like fresh linen.”

you said nothing.

just… dropped your robe.

and stood there. bare. still.

liam turned again.

stopped.

paused.

dropped the towel.

“what the fuck.”

you blinked. “what?”

“what do you mean, ‘what?’” his voice shot up an octave. “you’re standing there naked and smirking.”

“you said you were busy.”

“i was lying. i was so, so wrong.” he raked a hand down his face, then dropped it and looked you up and down with zero shame. “oh, you think you’re so clever, huh?”

you shrugged. “maybe.”

he took one step toward you.

“liam—” you warned, backing up.

“oh, no. you don’t get to do that and walk away. you’ve got ten seconds to run.”

you squealed as he lunged, chasing you back down the hallway, arms wrapping around your waist just before you could dive back into the bed. you collapsed in a giggle, tangled in the sheets, with him hovering over you like a man completely possessed.

“you know what you are?” he said, breath hot against your ear.

“what?”

“a villain.”

“you’re not complaining.”

he smirked, brushing his lips against your neck. “i’m not complaining at all.”

his hands slid along your sides, warm and reverent, touch slow but very intentional — and the look in his eyes was the exact opposite of the flustered chaos he’d shown two minutes ago.

now?

now he was dialed in.

game over.

“you’re never folding laundry again,” he whispered.

“deal.”

ʚ・lance stroll

lance was sitting at the edge of the bed, still in his post-shower sweatpants and a hoodie you were pretty sure he stole from you. hair damp, legs stretched out, face tilted slightly toward the tv as he mindlessly flipped through netflix options with the remote resting on his thigh.

you’d been waiting for him in bed for the last ten minutes, curled up under the blanket, watching his indecision in silence.

so you sat up, voice quiet but purposeful.

“lance.”

he looked over at you, smiling like he always did — all lazy warmth and soft affection. “yeah, babe?”

“come back to bed.”

“i am in bed,” he said with a little grin, tapping the mattress under him.

you tilted your head. “i meant under the covers. with me.”

he hummed, still scrolling. “one sec. just wanna pick a movie.”

you slid out from under the blanket slowly, letting the covers fall off your bare shoulders — his hoodie the only thing you had on. oversized, unzipped. nothing underneath.

you stood up, walked over to the end of the bed, and dropped it.

just like that.

the hoodie slid off your frame and landed on the floor.

lance’s hand stilled on the remote.

his head turned slowly. his eyes widened slightly.

and then his mouth opened a little — not in shock, but in quiet reverence.

“…you’re not playing fair.”

you smiled softly. “you weren’t listening.”

“i was just… i didn’t know you were gonna pull that.” his voice dropped a little, low and smooth and slightly breathless. “shit.”

you padded back toward him, and he immediately sat up straighter, arms reaching out to wrap around your waist like it was instinct.

he looked up at you from where he sat, lips brushing the side of your hip, voice barely above a whisper.

“is this my cue to join you?”

“i’d like that.”

he stood, hands trailing gently up your back as he pulled you closer. “you look…”

you tilted your head. “yeah?”

he smiled, slow and sweet. “like the only thing i ever want to look at.”

you flushed — even after all this time, he still knew how to knock the air out of your lungs without even trying.

he tugged you into bed with him, sliding under the covers, arms wrapping around you like a cocoon.

and the tv stayed on the menu screen all night.

ʚ・franco colapinto

franco was lying on the couch, hair still damp from the shower, shirt slightly askew, casually flipping through his phone while absently tossing popcorn into his mouth. he looked dangerous in that effortless, lazy way—one leg stretched out, other knee bent, hand resting on his stomach like he hadn’t just sent you a very flirty text five minutes ago from across the apartment.

you’d replied with: “if you want me so bad, come back to bed.”

he hadn’t moved.

he smirked.

you leaned in the doorway to the living room, wearing his t-shirt and nothing else, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“franco.”

his head turned instantly, smile already creeping up his face. “mm?”

“i said come back to bed.”

he raised an eyebrow, still lounging. “you said it over text. that’s not the same as begging.”

you blinked at him.

then, wordlessly, you stepped forward.

and let the t-shirt drop.

his entire body stiffened.

phone? gone. somewhere in the cushions. forgotten entirely.

eyes? on you. nowhere else.

mouth? slightly parted.

neck? visibly flushed.

“oh my god.”

you stayed exactly where you were, one hand on your hip. “you were saying?”

franco sat up slowly, as if pulled by a string, eyes darkening by the second. “you don’t play fair.”

“you didn’t listen.”

he let out a soft, slightly stunned laugh, raking a hand through his hair. “i thought i was the dangerous one in this relationship.”

“you’re adorable when you think that.”

he stood, took a single step toward you — slow and confident and so him — before stopping.

“now you’ve done it,” he murmured, voice low, eyes scanning over your bare skin like he didn’t know where to look first.

“what exactly did i do?”

“you challenged me.”

“did i win?”

“oh, you haven’t even started playing.”

you barely had time to react before he was kissing you — hard, slow, deep — one hand sliding to the back of your neck like he couldn’t get close enough. he grinned into the kiss when you melted just a little.

“bed,” you whispered against his mouth.

“already there in my mind.”

he scooped you up like it was the easiest thing in the world, whispering something in spanish that sounded far too sinful for how softly he said it.

“i was gonna let you sleep tonight,” he muttered.

you giggled against his shoulder. “guess you changed your mind.”

“i lost my mind.”

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[turon-na-saging]

Fixation at Strength

sung jinwoo with a short older female reader older that has herculean strength like Do Bong Soon.

a/n: hello everyone, this is my first contribution to this fandom 🙆‍♀️. my writing skills has definitely rusted from years of inactive writing but hope you like this. i was working on the isekai corporate slave reader, but this kept occupying my mind so now this was born lol.

update a/n: had to edit a few things after rereading as it mostly comes off as a self-insert instead of a reader insert. apologies for that. 🙇‍♀️

EDITED WARNING: this is my first time attempting writing a yandere/dark fic. if such trope makes you uncomfortable, please continue scrolling and ignore this post.

EDITED TAGS: mentions of blackmailing, cliché plot/trope, probably the brewing beginning of dark jinwoo(?)

[you are here] [2]

Sung Jinwoo was brooding.

He was on his way home after clearing a gate an hour earlier when the system screen popped up in his face. On the screen, an alert was issued to look out for a potential threat. With a loud ring, the amount of distance was shown to him.

His eyes narrow at the distance drastically went shorter. Was this a hunter? Possibly a monster? He hasn't heard or receive any news of a dungeon break near this neighborhood. His body was tense as he ready himself at the upcoming threat. His eyes shook as he looked at the number closely. It was coming closer to him. Glancing at every road corner of the neighborhood around him, he waited.

The tension he felt was immediately broken once he heard a light-hearted humming. A short young woman appears from the corner of the neighborhood staring down at her phone.

Jinwoo nearly tripped at the sight. Was the system broken? Jinwoo thought as he stared at the short woman before him who walked passed by glancing at him for a second before minding back your own business. He double checked at the screen and indeed it really was you that the system considered a potential threat, seeing the number of distance growing again after he passed by you. Not to mention, he could not see or sense a single mana around you yet why did the system deemed you a threat? Unless you were like him?

A notification appeared as it now identified you not a threat and the alert was closed.

Something didn't felt right. The fact the system reacted to you like that. Using his stealth skill, he followed behind you hidden from sight. He could hear you hum as you wonder what to get for tonight's dinner. With raised eyebrows, he can tell you are quite harmless and . But then again, you are a civilian and not an awakened hunter like him.

Deep laughter broke him from his thoughts as he saw an approaching group of 3 guys. Based from their clothes, the few armors they had and the aura they're emitting, they are definitely hunters. D-rank to be exact. He looked at you, who was still happily skipping as you scroll down your phone.

As he predicted, you accidentally bumped your shoulder into one of the hunters in the group. You immediately offer an apology to the man, but he didn't liked it as he grabbed your arm and tore off the phone from your hand, slamming it down the ground.

"The hell was that woman! Not a proper apology? You just bumped into a fucking hunter, show some respect!" The burly guy, who could tell was the leader, shouted.

"That's right boss! Tell 'em!" His buddies cackled beside him as if they found a new entertainment.

Jinwoo was about to show and finish those guys himself when he froze upon seeing you push the man like nothing making him fly hard to the nearby trashdump. His buddies took a step back out of shock before you expressed your frustration at them holding your now broken phone.

Jinwoo was in disbelief as he quietly watched you singlehandedly beat them up and dragged each of the guys by pulling up by their top, lining them up against the wall to kneel near the garbage dump. They were cowering as they sobbed snots pouring out of their nose.

He could hear you ask their ages with each of them obediently answering. After their answer, you made sure to lightly smack each of their heads yet the men cried harder as if it was painful, after learning they were younger than you. Judging from the state those men were in as they bow down apologizing to you in tears and swearing not to be bunch of assholes anymore, you have certainly already taught them enough lesson.

A noona? You sure didn't look like it. Jinwoo just felt something light inside him despite his human emotions slowly died out from the near death experience he had after he received the system. If one were to look closely, there was redness on his ears.

Upon finally noticing him standing a few feet away from where you were, you froze as there was a witness. But there was something unsettling for you, his eyes were glowing purple and small wisps of shadows surrounded him. That definitely screamed danger to you. This man is a hunter and far more dangerous than the usual ones you encountered. You may have your superstrength, but you remain cautious as your jinx may backfire.

Seeing you were distracted, the men scrambled off running away in fear. You didn't pay them any mind as your attention was on the hooded man a few feet away from you.

"Who are you...?" You warily asked, fists clenched watching him with caution.

Jinwoo couldn't hold back his chuckle. He may have seen your strength and knew not to underestimate you. The height difference was big with him towering over you. But you were too adorable for him despite being older than him. This unknown feeling was growing rapidly at the sight of you, high alert looking up at him with wariness. Like a cat ready to bare her claws and fangs, he mused.

You have certainly caught his interest. Was this a good thing? With the smirk present on Jinwoo's face and the glint in his glowing eyes? Well, who knows.

At the sudden shift in the mood, you could only feel dread and the urge to run away. Like a predator laying its eyes on its prey, waiting for its move.

You gasped when he was infront of you, leaning down close to your face the instant you blinked. His eyes lingered at the company ID which displayed your name for a few seconds before a smirk graced his lips.

"Sung Jinwoo. Nice to meet you, noona~"

Upon hearing that name, your blood ran cold. Korea's 10th S-Class Hunter, the one people especially the media have been going crazy about lately. His display of strength during the Jeju Island Raid has certainly earned him a reputation and admirers. With growing popularity, there will be no doubt people who see him in a negative light.

With your instincts of danger sent shivers down your spine, you held his arm as you plan on throwing him down the ground as a warning to stepping into someone's personal space. Instead of that happening, the ground under your feet crumbled as you realized Jinwoo was not budging an inch. Your eyes went wide in shock and perhaps fear. It didn't work.

Seeing as you didn't stand a chance, you are about to step away but he immediately held you by your waist pulling you close to him. The shadows around him made you freeze, like you'll be swallowed whole in any moment. You are shaking without realizing it.

Jinwoo felt bad that he found this sight of you cute. He easily towered and covered you as you only reached until his chest. He didn't know why he felt the need to pull you close to him. This was an entirely knew feeling for him.

"It is curious as to why you're not a hunter with that strength, noona? Does the Association know there's an unregistered awakened?" He whispered in your ear. It was a teasing tone yet it was laced also with threat.

"I-I'm not an awakened! I swear!" You hastily answered. "Please don't report me! I really am not!"

Your thoughts were running out of control as you try to come up with excuses regarding your power. Meanwhile Jinwoo remained silent as he continue staring at you, contemplating. Indeed you are speaking the truth as he couldn't sense even a speck of mana on your body, even at this close contact. Unless you have tremendous skill of cloaking it to the point of being thought as a normal person. After a minute, he finally let go despite not fully satisfied with what he got.

"I'll believe you for now." Jinwoo released his grip from your waist as you sighed in relief before glancing up at him again with those wary eyes.

"But in exchange, I wanna see noona more often." His eyes narrowed as it glowed, yet he has a smile that you couldn't describe. "Wouldn't want the Association learn of your power right?"

The confidence he held by holding the knowledge of your deepest secret, Jinwoo knew you would've give in. Seeing you glanced down at your broken phone, he knew what you were insinuating.

"I have my ways of finding you. Seoul is a smaller than you might think." He simply answered with a shrug. With a sour look you nodded, he knew he already won.

His phone rang making you both broke eye contact as he check who was calling. Seeing it was his younger sister, Jin-Ha, he had no choice but to part ways with you for now. "Sadly, I would have to cut our meeting short. I'll see you soon, noona."

To your surprise, his whole body slowly disappeared like mist leaving you alone in the middle of the neighborhood street. You definitely have sealed your fate.

Without a second thought, you ran away in haste as to make sure you've gained distance away from that place. Once you were home, your family noticed your pale complexion and thought it was due to a long day of work. Although bad news for you, he already planted some of his shadows to yours without you knowing.

Anyways, thank you for reading y'all! Thoughts are appreciated! Don't mind me going feral for this as I'll be making more parts for this pairing. owo/