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#He sure wasn’t expecting his son (EXCUSE HIM HE HAS A SON?!) to have a dragonet
puppetmaster13u · 4 months
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Prompt 317
IMAGINE THIS: Lil baby Damian, bored and being not quite old enough to start learning how to use proper weapons (curse these wooden ones, he wants true steel!) is wandering the base. This is not out of the ordinary, he’s the prince after all. What is out of the ordinary is that his shadow, his Akhi, is not here. 
Technically, he should be napping, but he woke up and neither his mother or his brother- who is quiet but gentle and isn’t a good speaker (mother said it was from a head injury)- is there. Which is how he finds his way to the Pit, which he’s not supposed to be at. Or at least not alone. 
But! His mother and Akhi are there! And- and Akhi is screaming and he’s never heard him scream like that, like he’s in agony- His eyes are green- they were blue, had, had Mother placed him in the Waters- 
And then the pool is bubbling- he should be running away, get assistance or something, he’s five, he shouldn’t be running towards it when everything is screaming to flee. But one moment he’s at the doorway, the next he’s clinging to his akhi as something writhes in the Pit, a mighty bellow echoing even as the Shadows take defensive positions. 
The water cascades, laps at their feet, splashes everywhere as a scaled form rises from the depths, wings like a bloodied sunset spreading as fur bursts into flames. Crimson eyes glare down at them all, pupils slits as they bare down at his Akhi. 
The creature- the dragon- dips its head down, its breath warm as it chuffs at his akhi, wings folding as though it is bowing. His akhi is clinging to Mother, shivering, several scars glowing as they fade and a burst of hair burned white. 
Oh. 
Oh.
@fairy-lights-and-blobs @f4nd0m-fun @hdgnj @radiance1 pspspspsps
#DCxDP#DPxDC#Prompts#Ghosts are Dragons#Or at least Halfas are#Let Jason & Damian be brothers#Jordan looking at Jason: This lil shit is my partner in this world? Damn could be worse#Danny wriggling from the pool & climbing up Damian’s back: My Partner >:D#Ellie bouncing through the caves to Respawn & dragging him into the room: My partner :)#Ras honestly kind of shrugs because ‘well they were chosen by the pits so hi extra grandsons he supposes#Ras turning to giant dragon Vlad & giving scritches: What do I do with two wholeass new grandchildren#Jazz the sea dragon sprawled behind Dusan & playing chess with him:#Does Bruce even know about the fact Ras has a giant fuck-you dragon? Who knows#He sure wasn’t expecting his son (EXCUSE HIM HE HAS A SON?!) to have a dragonet#Hood with big sun dragon behind him: >8)#Sun Core Dan#Ocean Core Jazz#Space Core Danny#Moon Core Ellie#They’re having fun with this httyd vibes honestly#Redeemed Vlad#Sort of- morally gray & complex Vlad & co#It’s similar to platonic soulmates but also not#They can share emotions with their chosen#Danny & Ellie are the size of medium dogs but the size of small horses by the time Damian goes to Gotham#Dan is the size of a semi-truck & will slowly get bigger#Jazz? The size of a plane but longer#Vlad is the size of a skyscraper (yes he came to this world first time isn't exactly linear in the realms all the time)#If you want pics of designs they're under the ghosts are dragons tag on my blog#(though haven't designed Jazz yet)
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angel5ofp0rn · 4 months
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♡ part eight ♡
ExHusband!Price x f!reader
just a short lil chapter 🤭
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John didn’t sleep at all.
Still, when the morning sun started to peek through the blinds, he got up from the couch and made his way to the kitchen.
He couldn’t eat, but he knew he had to make sure you and the kids did.
After making eggs, bacon and toast, John sets the table and then heads upstairs to his your oldest child’s bedroom to wake him.
The sight of you sleeping in the twin bed with both children snuggled up to you made his heart ache.
Your tear-streaked cheeks and their blissfully unaware sleeping faces made John want to cry.
You woke slowly, rubbing your puffy eyes and lifting your head to see John in the doorway. You sigh.
“I, erm... Breakfast." John spoke softly. You nod, slowly rubbing your oldest’s back to wake him, telling him to get ready for school before he eats.
John watches for a moment as your oldest sleepily trudges to the washroom.
You scoop your sleepy youngest child up and walk past John, going downstairs to the kitchen without a word to him.
John knows there’s no point in trying to smooth things over just yet. Instead, he decides to get a shower in while you and the kids have breakfast together. Without him.
You try to smile and be happy around the kids, not wanting them to sense the tension between you and their father right now.
They seem to be oblivious to it all, thankfully.
As you playfully ruffle your oldest’s brown hair as he eats, you can't help but wonder if John's other son looks like him.
Like both of them.
Your children look just like John; surely his other child does too…
John joins the three of you in the kitchen after a while, but he doesn’t say anything to you. He doesn’t even look at you.
“Could you walk Gabe to the bus stop? It’ll be here in 5.” You ask suddenly, finally catching his eyes.
“Of course.” John nods curtly, taking the little green backpack from the back of one of the chairs. As he walks with your oldest, you send your youngest off to the playroom so you can chat with John privately.
You meet him by the front door, arms crossed, almost hugging yourself for comfort.
“What’re their names?” You ask bluntly.
John is caught a little off guard by your question, not expecting you to ask about his other family right now. He wasn’t expecting anything other than you kicking him out, really.
He studies your eyes for a moment, then nods as he responds.
"My son's name is Theo. His mother's name is Nadia."
You exhale a breath you didn't realize you were holding. The way he says “my son” so naturally makes your stomach drop.
"Show me a picture of him." Your voice is shaky.
"Of Theo?" John asks, surprised. At your nod, he takes his phone out of his pocket, finds a photo and hands his phone to you.
Your eyes study the photo of a ten year old holding up a lego creation that he presumably built himself.
He looked exactly how you pictured him to look; John’s brown hair, John’s blue eyes, John’s freckled nose.
You start to cry again.
John notices you crying, immediately wanting to be there to comfort you but he knows that he shouldn't make a move now, not when things are so tense between both of you. He stays put where he is, just watching you cry for a few moments before speaking."Is.... Is there anything else you want to know? I’ll tell you everything, love.”
"Do they know about us?” You ask, handing him his phone back with a sniffle. “About me, the kids...?”
John pauses for a moment before he responds. He feels like he needs to be honest with you about this; he's kept so much hidden for the last six years, but he doesn't want to keep anything else from you.
That being said, he knew his next few words might hurt to hear.
“They do… I show Theo photos of the kids every time I see ‘im.”
You wipe your eyes with your sleeve. "So you could tell them but not us?”
John has no words, no way to defend himself in this situation. There was no excuse for it either, he knew that. He just takes a breath in and out, then stays silent as he simply nods.
You sigh.
"What was your plan, John?" You wiped more tears. “To just keep both of your families from each other for the rest of your life?"
"No." John answers, his tone soft but clear. "I- I’ve always wanted to tell you. I just couldn't stand the thought of you hurting... I didn't want to lose you."
"And then you did lose me. And you still didn't say a fucking word."
John's expression was full of regret, but he knows that he can't change the past, no matter how much he wishes he could.
"I know that. I just- Christ, I don't want to lose you again. I couldn't have just let us get back together without solving the issue that ripped us apart on the first place, love. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.”
You didn't speak. You couldn't.
John sighs, rubbing his face and shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry..." That's all he says because right now he feels as though any other words would hurt more than they would help. He wanted to speak, to say more, but he just couldn't bring himself to.
'..l want to meet them." You finally look up at him, meeting his eyes.
"... You want to meet them..?" John asks back in a soft, shaky voice. He can't help but be a little shocked by your response.
Maybe it's because he expected that you would ask him to never see his family ever again, or to never see you and your children ever again…
"The kids, too. Gabriel and Linnie have a big brother; I want them to know him."
John studies your face as if he’s waiting for you to retract your request.
"Gabriel's spring break is in two months. You're taking us to the London and we're meeting them." You don't ask, you’re telling him.
"Alright... I said I’d do anything and I meant it." John nods as a small look of relief crosses his face. He thinks about speaking again, but decides against it, as he just takes a small breath in and out.
"I should probably get some work done." You glance at the clock on the wall.
He nods. "I'll… see you after work, then...?"
“I’m just gonna be upstairs in my office.” You explain. You can practically see the gears turning in his head.
You’re not kicking him out.
“Lovey, what’re you saying?”
“You’ll be sleeping on the couch until further notice.” You continue. “And… you’ll be making breakfast every morning from now on." Your lips twitch into the tiniest smirk.
"Oh?" John smiles a tiny bit as well. "I... I can do that. I’ll do anything- everything.” John pulls you into a hug.
"I’ve gotta get to work.” You gently push him off of you with a small chuckle. “Go check on Linnie.”
You wanted to keep being mad at him, but you couldn’t... He knew what he had to do in order to fix your relationship, and he's doing it.
He has you. Fuck, does he have you.
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jaylver · 1 year
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CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE — P.SH
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SYNOPSIS: Having a one night stand wasn’t your forte, but with the help of adrenaline, and most definitely not alcohol, you managed to rope yourself into one. Worst part of all was the fact that you didn’t even know his name! The only distinguishable part of him was his blinding white hair. You figured you will never see him again after, but you were so wrong. Your friend practically set you up for failure after convincing you to take her place on a blind date to try and drive the guy away, only for it to be the one you slept with, who also happened to be your mother’s best friend’s son that you met right before that. 
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PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!sunghoon x afab!reader
GENRE: strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, comedy, slice of life, angst, (attempted) he fell first but she fell harder, slowburn-ish
WARNING(S): profanities, slight violence, suggestive content (no smut), drinking, partying, sunghoon being secretly obsessed (aka a loverboy), douchey football juyeon appearance
WC: 19k
AUTHOR NOTES: keeping my a/n short since i wrote a message at the end of the fic (please read it <3). thank you for the patience and for the love you gave throughout the series! i can't believe it has ended and i swear i'll be writing drabbles for this. enjoy this long fic as the last installment for the series. please leave feedbacks and reblogs are appreciated too! muah!!
part 4 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist
© jaylver 2023 all rights reserved.
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THIS SHOULDN’T BE HAPPENING TO YOU NOW, BUT IT ACTUALLY WAS. 
Never in a million years would you have expected yourself in some random guy’s bed, naked and a throbbing head reminding you of last night's mistake. Blacked out, you were too drunk to even remember making a callous decision in fucking a guy’s name you couldn’t even remember now. Wow.
How did you even manage to bring yourself into this situation? Well, a frat party might explain it. Letting Wonyoung and Yujin drag you to their favourite frat party was already the first mistake, but when you discovered good booze and consumed too much of it, you ended up wandering off and found a hot man, not turning back, instead you ventured into his bed. Horniness along with a pinch of alcohol could really cloud someone’s mind and awareness, unfortunately you could prove that fact since you were a victim of it. 
It was currently 4 am and the man you fucked last night was dead asleep with his back facing to you while on the other hand, you were wide awake, swallowing whatever information you got from last night. You remembered him as a charming, flirty, funny white headed man who had a big dic—heart—excuse you, that was equally respectful and polite. 
He was just as handsome, gorgeous and breathtaking as his personality. Bright eyes, pale skin that complimented his hair, a pair of dimples that had you swooning, and legs long enough to outshine a professional model. Hell, how was he not a model in the first place?
Whatever happened yesterday night stays in the depths of his bed. Period. Though you couldn't deny his … skills, and you wouldn't mind another night with him, yet something in you was rejecting the idea of seeing him again and determined to have him remain as a one night stand.
Frankly speaking, you didn't want to leave this bed of his at all. Was he a morning stay in bed cuddling type of person? You wouldn't know and you're scared to know. What if he kicks you out? You needed to save yourself the embarrassing walk of shame in the morning, so instead, you slowly slipped out of bed, making sure he was still sound asleep before scurrying out.
The clothes scattered on the floor were unsurprising. You picked up your undergarments and the skimpy black dress you wore, pulling it on quickly as if your life depended on it. You weren’t cold hearted enough to leave without saying nothing, that was too low. Taking the nearest piece of paper you could find, you wrote down a few words of farewell and thanked him for the night, cringing all while you wrote it. Gosh, this was shabby but it would have to do.
Rounding your things up, your handbag and phone in hand as you buckled your heels strap, you quietly and sneakily exited from his dorm room, thankfully no signs of his roommates were around. Now, the problem was walking back to your part of the dorms in the cold of the night. Exciting, wasn’t it?
The moment you got back, the dorm was silent and dark. Wonyoung was asleep in her room, but Yunjin was lying on the couch with her hair in a mess and you knew she was going to have the worst hangover in the morning. You crept past her sleeping figure and went into your own room, letting out a sigh of relief before dropping into the comforts of your bed. Never again.
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“HE WAS GOOD WITH HIS HANDS?”
“Can you tone it down!”
Having breakfast the next morning in the campus’s cafeteria was probably a bad choice to give your two friends a recap. Yunjin was still in a daze, half invested, whereas Wonyoung was too invested, screaming at every detail.
“What’s his name?” Yunjin asked, taking a big gulp of her homemade hangover remedy.
“Well…” 
“You forgot?” the two girls before you exclaimed in surprise and horror, the embarrassment made you sink further into your chair. 
“It’s horrible, I know!” you buried your face into your hands pathetically, but whenever you closed your eyes, you thought of him, like he’s haunting you or something, which didn’t help you feel better.
“You weren’t even half as drunk as Yunjin, how could that happen?” Wonyoung said while Yunjin mumbled under her breath about not being that drunk.
“Gosh, I wonder too,” you jabbed at your plate of food disheartedly. “All I remembered was his silvery white hair,”
At the sound of his description, Wonyoung’s ears perked up, figuring the interesting part of your one night stand sounded oddly familiar, having a slight clue on who it was. But before she could actually piece everything together, your words interrupted her train of thoughts.
You were still lamenting about the possible love of your life. “I don’t think he even knows my name either,”
“Did you at least leave your name?”
“I left my initials if that helps …” you faltered when you saw the disappointed looks on your friends faces. 
“I’m betting on Prince Charming to look for you.”
You didn’t think much of your one night stand after that, continuing on with your day and getting yourself busy. That’s when your mother suddenly called you up, thinking it was a normal phone call asking about you and your life recently, until she started talking about a house party that she wanted you to go to, hinting a ‘defined’ young man would be there for you. Sure, as if a hot man was just waiting for you that easily. 
Nonetheless, you accepted the invite in order to avoid pissing her off and show some decent courtesy to her friend’s house party. Maybe, just maybe, it was going to be better than you expected. There was one thing your mother made sure to remind you constantly before the party: dress well. What she was hiding up her sleeve was something you wouldn't know until then. ‘Save me’ was written over your expression when you realised she had intentions hidden behind her sweet smile. 
"You know Mrs Park's son is perfect, right? He'd be a great boyfriend!" Your mother swooned as you two walked hand in hand towards her friend, Mrs Park's house. 
"Mum, can you stop setting me up with every one of your friend's sons," you groaned, pulling on the ends of your dress that you begrudgingly wore to appease your mother.
"Well, you're in college with a love life that's dead. I'm trying my best at playing cupid here," 
Fairs.
"Whatever," you waved her off dismissively, though knowing she was right.
Your love life was quite a mess. A jock ex that you still bump into on campus, a short lasting situationship with a douchey footballer, desperate times, and a short lived crush from your marketing lecture. Safe to say you were going nowhere and your mother was unfortunately correct. 
Leading you to this point in life where you had to witness your mother trying to set you up with her friends' sons in the middle of a house party. All of which were ogling you but you were not reciprocating the same energy. They were nice guys, but did they catch your eyes? Not really.
The main host of the party, Mrs Park, soon appeared and welcomed everyone. When she approached you two, your mother made sure to pull you close, whispering into your ear. "Her son's a total catch,"
"What—?"
"I'm so glad to see you!" Mrs Park hugged your mother happily, all while you were slightly dazed and confused from your mother's words. Where was the 'total catch' anyway?
Mrs Park and your mother exchanged a few words and some gossip before her attention turned to you. "You're Y/N, right? I can't believe your mother took this long to bring you out!"
You laughed stiffly, eyeing your mother, not knowing what to say next. "I'm glad to have finally meet you now,"
"Me too," she patted your shoulder, and it was your mother's turn to speak, thank goodness. 
"Where's your son?" your mother glanced over at you momentarily, a scheming smirk telling you she was planning something to get you close with Mrs Park’s son.
"Oh! He's upstairs. He'll be down sooner or later, don't worry," 
Your mother nodded, persisting on getting more information about him. “If I’m not wrong, I'm pretty sure Y/N goes to the same college as him,”
“Is it?” Mrs Park looked delighted, raising a brow in interest. “You’ll get along with him just fine.”
To say you were bored and uninterested was an understatement. Don’t get the wrong memo, the food was great and Mrs Park was an amazing, accommodating host, but the lack of company made you feel a little too lonely. Your mother was off with her group of friends somewhere upstairs, leaving you and the other people around your age to linger on the first floor. However, they somehow knew each other while you were completely unfamiliar with them. Talk about the feeling of missing out.
Drinking in the middle of the day would most likely disappoint your doctor if he knew, but you just couldn’t resist it since the bottle was practically there. You poured yourself some and took your cup outside, getting to take advantage of the quietness in the garden lounge and escaping the loud chatters inside. A sigh of relief escaped your lips once liquid courage hit and you leaned back, closing your eyes temporarily.
Maybe it was the effect of alcohol that’s making you think of him, but the image of the guy from the other night appeared in your head with no warning whatsoever. Real sudden and almost too unexpected. Was he lingering in your subconscious for too long? Had you secretly never let him go all this while? To be fair, he was too gorgeous to let go. 
Your short lived peace and quietness was broken after you heard some shouts and cheers from inside. It sounded nearly like a concert or a celebrity’s appearance, but wouldn’t that be impossible? You turned your head around in curiosity, and your sight landed on a tall man that stood out among the bunch. 
That hair … it was familiar, too familiar. His back was facing you and you couldn’t tell who it was, but something internally told you this wasn’t going to be a great time. He was greeting the people around, slowly but surely turning around, until his front was finally facing you. You swore you almost lost your grip on the cup just then. 
Platinum white hair, a smile that showcased his charming dimples and sharp fangs-like teeth, long legs and great proportions. Mr one night stand.
It was as if the world was going against you at that moment. Just when you thought of him, he appeared. Did you actually manifest this man? It was too good to be true. You were probably hallucinating, right? The alcohol was messing with your brain. This was why you should stop drinking—
He met your eyes. 
You cursed the glass panel’s existence. If only it was a solid wall, he wouldn’t have spotted you and realisation wouldn’t have set in his eyes. 
Eyes widened, franticness filled your system. The panic set further in stone when you saw him excusing himself and approaching gradually, his long legs carrying him towards you. 
You tried ducking, or finding a hiding spot nearby, but it was impossible for either of those options. Accepting your fate was all you could do as you heard the glass door slid open, his footsteps getting louder. 
"You alright?"
Hell no.
You glanced up, flushed from embarrassment. Clearing your throat and regaining your posture as you slowly stood up, avoiding his stare. "I'm … fine,"
"Were you trying to hide?"
"I—no—I was tying my shoelaces,"
"You're wearing heels," 
You looked down at your feet, then back at the man before you.
"That's—uh—nothing—"
"You are hiding from me,"
"From you? Don't get ahead of yourself," you scoffed, trying to mask your panic.
"Okay then," he let out an amused chuckle, earning an annoyed eye roll from you. "I know we both probably don't want to talk about that night—"
"Right," you mumbled, accidentally cutting him off briefly.
"So, I was wondering if we could start afresh? We were both drunk and have almost no memory of that night. Plus, you seem cool and I really, really want to get to know you better,"
"Even if it mean we fucked?"
"Even if it mean we fucked," he repeated, shrugging slightly. "People fuck and stay friends all the time,"
"Are you sure?"
He made a face. "Kinda?" He extended his hand out, a meaningful spark in his eyes. "I'm Sunghoon,"
"Sunghoon," you echoed his name, thinking how much he fitted his image. Tall blond Sunghoon, who was a sweet guy out on the streets but a freak in the sheets, got it. "I'm—"
"There you are!"
For once, you were thankful your mother had blocked a man's advancements. 
"Mom?"
"Mrs L/N?"
She had a look of satisfaction, eyeing you with a cheshire grin. 
"I see you two have met?"
You exchanged an awkward glance with Sunghoon, cringing slightly. Well, you did more than just meet.
"My daughter's a sweet girl, I heard you two are in the same college together, why not—"
"Mom!" You hissed, stopping her before she ended up digging a deeper grave for you. No way was she setting you and him up there and then.
"What?" She replied, oblivious. "Anyway, that's besides the point why I came. We'll be leaving already, I have an emergency to attend and it's honestly a headache. I had a lovely time, Sunghoon, extend my further thanks to your mother, will you?"
Sunghoon nodded and gave your mother a hug with a sweet smile, acting like a perfect gentleman and almost sucking up to her as if he wasn't just asking you to beg him a few nights back. 
Before you could fully turn around and follow your mother out, you felt a hand on your shoulder. It was him. 
"I'll see you around?"
Disappointment was evident in his voice, his smile now pulled into a slight frown. 
"See you around, Hoonie."
Hoonie. That definitely didn't miss Sunghoon's ears, watching your figure getting further away from him and by then, he knew he needed you.
But first, he needed to get you to not run away from him … again.
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“HE’S THAT GUY!”
“What guy?”
Another round of Sunghoon discourse was shared after your fateful encounter with him. Yunjin and Chaewon were gasping the moment his name left your lips, but you were the only confused one there.
“Hockey!”
“Hockey guy?” you were still oblivious, the other two seemingly done with you. 
“Hockey player! He’s in the hockey team,” 
One blink. Two blinks. Your campus hockey team. You hooked up with a hockey jock? Scratch that, he was probably a hockey frat boy instead. It was common knowledge that the hockey team fucked around often. Despite keeping their ground and being good athletes, they still had a reputation of partying and hooking up.
“What?” You sputtered out, horror in your eyes. “He's on the hockey team? The same one that has Lee Heeseung, Park Jong Seong and Choi Jiung?”
“Yes, Y/N, we only have one hockey team on the campus,”
“Touche,”
“That's another athlete you hooked up with,” Yunjin nudged you teasingly, but Chaewon, on the other hand, was shaking her head in disapproval.
“Don’t encourage her, Jen. Not to be a killjoy, but girl, the hockey team has a bad name to them in terms of relationships,” Chaewon grimaced. “I don’t know much about Sunghoon but the things I’ve heard were not the best,”
“They are much more tame compared to the rest though. He has better decorum,” Yunjin chimed in, but that didn’t reassure you at all.
“Look, Y/N, we’re not stopping you from talking to him if you think he’s alright. But as your friends, we don’t want you heartbroken. Keep yourself alert and keep your heart at bay,”
“You’ve already let him in some other places—” You smacked Yunjin’s shoulder as she let out a cackle before it slowly died down and she continued, “but you know, you shouldn’t let him into your heart until you feel like it’s time,”
Chaewon nodded in agreement. “He’s still an athlete after all, not to mention, a popular star player of the team
“I mean, look at Juyeon,” At the mention of his name, thanks to Yunjin, you only shuddered at the thought of the douchey athlete before Sunghoon, Juyeon, a known footballer all over campus for the wrong reasons.
“God, don't bring Juyeon up, those were dark times,” Desperation and loneliness wasn’t a good combination to look at.
Chaewon patted your shoulders. “It sure was. But hey, maybe Sunghoon could change that stereotype. You have him now, who knows what’s in store for you two,”
“We barely talked. He's going to forget about me in a few days, trust me,”
Yunjin and Chaewon exchanged doubtful glances that went unnoticed by you, especially when you were distracted by a frantic Wonyoung running over to your table. She wasn't just frantic, she seemed like a mess.
“What's up with you?” You pushed the chair back for her to fall into, opening a bottle of water. 
“It's my parents again,” she groaned, fixing her hair aggressively. "Setting me up on blind dates and all that,"
"Again?" The three of you exclaimed in unison. It wasn't the first time that this had happened to Wonyoung, but it still surprised you everytime.
"Yeah," she spat, gulping water down. "They set me up with two guys but I've only been talking to one of them, I don't know about the other guy and I don't want to two time these people,"
"Why did they set up two guys this time?"
"I wonder too," she glanced between the three of you, swallowing deeply with a certain guilt in her eyes. "Which is why I wanted to ask—well, it's going to sound crazy—can one of you take my place?"
"What?"
Yunjin, Chaewon and you stared back at Wonyoung as if she had gone utterly insane. Maybe because she has. Her words didn't seem real and it only made the three of you burst out laughing, Wonyoung unimpressed at your unseriousness.
"Guys, I'm serious," 
Chaewon slowly calmed down from her high. "I'm not free for a date now, Wonnie, you know that. I'm busy with projects,"
Yunjin eventually collected herself too, but couldn't resist laughing in between. "I have to train for my next opera stage too,"
It was their turn to stare at you now, the decision falling into your hands. 
"Why are you guys looking at me like that?" You said nervously. 
"Y/N," Wonyoung batted her eyelashes innocently at you, tugging at your hand. 
"You're not serious, right?"
"I am," Wonyoung flashed you one of her sweet, charming smiles. "Come on, it's just one date, free food and possibly good company,"
"What if he's not a good company and a creep? What will I get for emotional compensation? Actually, what do I even get from this whole thing?"
Wonyoung considered it for a while. "A whole year's supply of food either way. Just go on this date and I'll pay for your food the whole year, deal?"
"No way," Yunjin blinked in surprise. Hell, you were surprised too. Being a broke, struggling college student, Wonyoung truly had a way to corner you. There's no way you couldn't say no to this.
"Deal,"
Wonyoung's smile grew wider. "All you need to do is pretend to be me, then try and chase him away,"
"What if he doesn't go away and is charmed?"
"Have fun. Maybe something good will come out of this."
"Doubt it."
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IT WAS NOT SURPRISING THAT YOU WERE STARTING TO GET SECOND THOUGHTS ABOUT THE DATE.
Wonyoung had the details and address sent to you, even paying for your dress and dinner. Now all was left for you to actually show up to the fancy restaurant and not blow your cover. 
Agreeing to taking your friend's place and pretending to be her was already a big risk. To think you were doing this was surreal, maybe this could be some new experience to laugh about in the future. But at that moment, you were not laughing, far from it.
"Got your keys?" Yunjin yelled from the next room as you gathered your last few items and sanity.
"I did!"
"What about your pepper spray? Wallet? Phone—?"
"I'll be fine!" You shouted back, chuckling slightly at Yunjin's usual demeanour. 
"Call us! Text us and give us updates, 'kay?"
"I will, don't worry," you called out your goodbyes before fully exiting your dorm room, mustering the bits of courage left in you all while you walked to your car, getting ready to drive to your misery.
A range of thoughts ran through your head from the carpark to the restaurant. Was he nice? Was he going to be douche? What if he was a serial killer—don’t overthink it—maybe he was a nice guy. You were affirming that it was about to be a chill night, a great date, but something internally did eat you up.
Upon arriving at the address Wonyoung sent you, you had to do a double take to make sure you hadn’t stopped at the wrong place. The restaurant was a fine dining place, chandeliers hung high on the ceiling, classical music playing in the background. It almost looked like it had come fresh out of a movie scene.
The server led you to your assigned table, heaving a breath of relief when you saw the empty seats. Your date wasn’t here yet and you had time to gather yourself. Fantastic! 
Would it be too late for the regret to settle in? The menu you had on hand was wide open and shielding your face, having an internal battle with yourself behind it. From a third perspective, you might’ve actually looked insane, but honestly, you could care less. By then, you couldn't tell if you were starting to shiver from nerves or from the backless dress Yunjin picked. You knew it would make you cold eventually.
The rambles in your mind had distracted you completely from the noises of someone moving about before you, still unaware until you heard a cough. “Hello?”
Wait a minute. That voice. 
“Hi?” you responded meekly, testing out the waters.
“Uh—can you—the menu—” he laughed awkwardly, sounding helpless. Poor guy.
The more he talked, the more your familiarity increased. It then clicked. That voice … it belonged to your one night stand, Sunghoon. The same guy your mother was pushing to be your future partner, also the one who spent the night with you. He was here, flesh and bones, on a date that was supposed to be with your best friend in the first place.
“Hey, I just want to get this done, I know our parents set this up and you probably give zero fucks about me but the dinner’s paid, so can’t we just try enjoying tonight—”
The menu in your hands was lowered, revealing your face and meeting his brown irises in an instant. You could tell the changes in his expressions as he gradually registered everything. Shock turned into confusion before it melted into amusement. He was amused?
“I don’t take it that you’re Wonyoung, right?” Sunghoon blinked, a small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. 
You, on the other hand, was more frazzled compared to him. Panicking and lowkey not knowing what you should do. “I could leave if you want?”
“God no, stay. Stay with me,” he assured, his hands gesturing a little too wildly. "I don't mind,"
"Really?" You swallowed, quite unconvinced. "This is so stupid. Wonyoung convinced me to do this since she's busy, I hope you're not disappointed," you winced, cringing slightly at yourself.
"I'm far from disappointed, actually. I didn't want to be here initially, my parents set it up without my knowledge—" a sour look on his face towards the mention of his parents' actions, "---but now that I know it's you, I feel a lot better,"
Something about the softness of his gaze and the sincerity of his words made you become increasingly interested. Maybe him and this whole date wouldn't be as bad as you thought.
"You're Y/N, right?" He said with uncertainty, eyebrows raised in expectation. 
You tilted your head, confused. You never give him your name, weird, how did he even know? Sunghoon seemed to sense that you were freaked out, because you really were taken aback, and he immediately panicked. “I–that probably rubbed off wrongly since you didn’t tell me your name after and I couldn’t remember it that night either, but you left your initials by my bedside, remember?”
He saw you nodding slowly, taking it as a clear sign to continue on. “Sounds insane but after that night, I actually asked around the campus with only your initials, trying to find you and figure out who you were. I know this sounds weird and totally invasive—”
Oh, he totally didn’t forget you in those few days like you’ve said before. It was the opposite. He went around trying to find you just with your initials? You were not ready to be down bad.
“No, it’s fine, really,” your eyebrows flew further up your forehead. You should be weirded out, but you weren’t. Actions spoke louder than words, and this was a prime example of it. You never had a man pursue you this intensely, even making an effort to try searching for your name alone. “It’s cute,”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I don’t think a man I’ve ever dated even did something like this for me before,” you giggled a little, noticing the flustered flush on his face, despite trying to remain a tough front. “How did you succeed in the end anyway?”
“Yunjin, was it? Your friend?”
You smiled slightly and resisted rolling your eyes at the mention of your best friend’s name. Of course it would be her that told him your name. “Right, that’s her,”
“She saw me practising one day in the arena and somehow recognised me, then she called me ‘white hair boy’ and asked if I was looking for you,” Sunghoon explained, earning a small laugh from you when you listened closely to him. “I swear I didn’t know it was going to be you today though, or that day at my house. I got your number from Yunjin and wanted to text you, but I suppose there were turn of events,”
“Funny how life works, huh?”
“Honestly, I’m glad it was you.”
The dinner eventually started and over the course of dishes, you and Sunghoon shared things about yourselves to each other, just trying to know more about one another and you swore you only fell deeper into the hole. He was passionate when it came to music, hockey, skating and his engineering course. Man, he was absolutely a charm that you couldn’t escape.
The accidental brushes throughout didn’t go unnoticed by you either. Whether it was him passing the napkins to you or just resting your hands too close to each other, you could feel his feather-like brush grazing against your skin. At times, his legs would make contact with yours, and you were aware that he was also aware. 
The night was filled with harmless touches and knowing glances at each other. Once you were done dining, he offered to take you home and walk you. How could you say no to that? 
"Have you ever gone to one of those hockey games on campus?" He suddenly asked on the way back to your place.
You shook your head. "Nope,"
"Would you like to come to the next game?" Sunghoon looked over at you for a moment before returning his gaze back to the road. 
"I'd love to," you answered without thinking. You were already weak for him, and there's no way out. "Will you be playing?"
"Maybe," he shrugged, a teasing smile etched on his face that you could make out in the dim glow.
He parked his car by the road, walking you to your apartment with you. The sounds of your combined footsteps filled the air, the occasional light brushes against shoulders kept you buzzing internally. 
"I had a great time tonight," you said out of the blue, earning his attention. "You know, I thought I'll regret pretending to be Wonyoung and expected a scary douchey guy to be my date, but I'm really happy to see that it was you,"
"I thought you'd run away," he laughed, referencing the time you hid from him and most likely the night after where you left in the middle of the night. 
"That was the last time," you nudged him, and couldn't resist a smile either. "I swear I won't run from you again,"
"Really?"
"Really," you affirmed, casting him a glance. 
Upon arriving at your doorstep, you turned to Sunghoon. "Thank you for tonight,"
“Thank you too, I enjoyed myself with you,” Sunghoon had his hands slipped in his pockets, his dyed hair complimenting his features, you couldn't take your eyes completely off him, resisting the urge to start giggling.
“Me too,” your eyes never left his, and neither did his. “Goodnight, Hoonie,”
Hoonie. There it was again, catching Sunghoon by surprise, a good kind of surprise.
He smiled. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
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“NEVER WILL I HAVE PREDICTED Y/N HOOKING UP WITH A HOCKEY PLAYER AND GOING TO ONE OF HIS GAMES AFTER,”
You brought Yunjin and Wonyoung along for the game, which you might’ve slowly regretted once you got to the arena. After telling them about the date, they were convinced you and Sunghoon were fated. Wonyoung even called herself ‘cupid’ and Yunjin credited herself for telling him your name. All you did was nod at their words, unable to deny that he had been in your mind.
“It is destiny,” Wonyoung cooed.
“Sure sure,” you waved them off dismissively, setting your eyes on the ice while the other two exchanged brief looks.
It was a while before the players of both teams filed out onto the ice, the arena bursting in cheers of support and you found yourself absentmindedly searching for Sunghoon. 
You saw him looking around as well. His eyes were squinted when he glanced up onto the stands, then it stopped when his gaze landed on you. You were the one he was finding for in the midst of the crowd.
Sunghoon waved almost too enthusiastically with the energy of a puppy, a toothy grin stretched wide and face lighting up, eyes shining. Gosh, he was so cute, how could you resist him? Spoiler alert, you couldn't. 
You didn't even realise you were reciprocating his big smile, waving back with equal energy and kicking your feet slightly. Whereas Wonyoung and Yunjin sat beside you, staring at the sight before them and knew what was up. You were hooked. But were they going to tell you that? No. You were going to work through this denial yourself unfortunately.
"What's with those looks?" You turned to them after Sunghoon skated away to his position. They shrugged.
"Well, someone seems interested," Yunjin raised her eyebrows.
"She's going to say 'no'," Wonyoung whispered over to Yunjin just in time for you to utter the exact word.
"No," you slipped out before shutting your mouth, rolling your eyes at the realisation. "We'll see,"
"She said 'we'll see', we're slowly moving to the light and out of denial,"
You nudged Yunjin, laughing softly. "Maybe," 
The match started off quite intensely, neither of the two teams wanted to back down or give way, instead only attacking harder. A few goals were scored before the third period arrived and the arena was alive with thrill.
Sunghoon was practically flying around, guiding the puck along and assisting his teammates, even achieving some assists himself. When the third period started, the teams only got fiercer, all eyes were on them.
That's when Jay skated past the oppositions and passed the puck to Sunghoon's end of his hockey stick, having the star player take control of the play now. Everyone was practically on their feet, the time ticking as Sunghoon worked his way through the defenders.
One hit of the stick and a swerve of his body, the puck landed into the net of the goalpost. Fans of the home team erupted in cheers, you three included, basking in the victory. Sunghoon's name showed up on the jumbotron, a loud blast of his name filled the arena and music played.
All while that was happening, Sunghoon searched for your figure again, making sure you were still there even when his teammates literally swarmed him. He never took his eyes off of you, and you knew that. You definitely didn't miss his wandering gaze throughout the game.
The game eventually came to an end. People were soon leaving the stands and you were ready to follow, but your best friends stopped you with a certain look on their faces. 
"Are you not going to find him?" Yunjin had her arms crossed.
"After all that?" Hands on hips, Wonyoung stared accusatory.
"I am," you assured, smiling at their demeanour. "He did text me beforehand saying how he wanted to meet me after the game,"
"You guys text?" Yunjin wiggled her eyebrows in interest.
"You're acting like we're living in the eighteen hundreds,"
"You know exactly what I mean,"
Wonyoung wrapped her arms around your shoulder. "We'll wait for you outside, call us when you're done with lover boy,"
"He is so not lover boy—"
"And you're so totally going to take that back one day,"
Yunjin's words did linger with you even after leaving them momentarily to find Sunghoon. The secret promise you had with yourself about not dating athletes or jocks was being threatened now, and you didn't like the thought of that. It wasn't your fault for being traumatised by them.
Somehow, something in you was keen to give Sunghoon a chance, and he was only winning your heart so far.
"Y/N!" 
You didn't realise how caught up you were with your thoughts until you heard footsteps and your name being called out. Sunghoon was jogging towards you, still in his hockey gear, silvery white hair glistening with sweat. You're being totally normal about this. Not.
"Hey!" You accepted his awkward side hug, him not wanting to get his sweat on you and you not knowing how to dodge his sweat. In the end, you two made it work somehow.
"You came," Sunghoon said breathlessly, as if he couldn't believe it, shining eyes staring back at you.
"Why wouldn't I?"
Sunghoon shook his head lightly, waving his hand dismissively. "Nah, it's just sometimes people don't really care about me playing hockey when I invited them to come watch, so I assumed—yeah—and it sucks honestly,"
You tilted your head in confusion, frowning. "But hockey's practically your rock! Why would they not support you for this?"
Sunghoon shrugged with a sad smile. "Guess some people don't care,"
"They don't care enough,"
"But you do," 
Something about the way he looked at you during then had your heart beating wildly. His gaze ever so gentle and caring, his attention on you as if you were the only person that mattered. Everything in his eyes conveys its message wordlessly.
"Of course I do," your words came out in a whisper, the tension between you and him increasing till the point where you felt suffocated. 
"The playoffs are soon, I'd really love to see your face in the crowd," Sunghoon fidgeted with the ends of his sleeve, shyly avoiding your stare. 
"And I would totally love to see you play. Have I told you how good you were just now?"
Sunghoon laughed, looking highly amused. "Really? Stop, I'm about to blush,"
Noticing Sunghoon's playful side did warm your heart. You wondered how he was the more you got to know him. What was he like? What does he like and hate? He continued to keep you curious and wanting to know more. 
"I'm serious. You were really good,"
You could tell he was pleased, smiling a little too hard. "Thank you. It means a lot coming from you,"
"Sunghoon!" 
You two turned around at the sound of his name, a tall lanky boy in the same hockey gear jogged towards where you were standing. If your memory didn't fail you, that person would be Heeseung, the captain of the team.
"Hey, the team's waiting, we have to discuss something," Heeseung nodded to a few guys waiting by the door, all of whom were staring in interest. It was then when Heeseung noticed your presence, acknowledging you with an awkward smile. "Sorry for taking him away,"
"It's fine," you reassured him. "I'll go first. I really enjoyed the game, text me, okay? See you, Hoonie!"
Everything happened too fast for Sunghoon to process entirely. By the time he waved and called out a 'bye', you were already a distance away. Yet, you made sure to turn around and wave goodbye to him one last time before disappearing past a corner. He was whipped. 
"'Hoonie', huh?" Heeseung threw an arm around him, thoroughly humoured.
"Oh, shut it,"
"Hoonie!" The guys waiting called out teasingly, further agitating their vice captain who grumpily stalked past them.
If there's one thing Sunghoon hated, it was people calling him 'Hoonie', but when it came to you, he could make an exception, and he certainly wouldn't mind hearing you say it a million times.
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"ARE YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?"
Wonyoung and Yunjin were party goers. You? Not so much. 
Upon hearing the infamous campus jocks were hosting a party at their frat house, almost everyone got to their feet at once, your friends included. You weren't exactly complaining either, the frat house was huge, like ginormous. But a part of you still remained cautious.
"I mean, yeah?" Yunjin had her arm looped around yours, Wonyoung around her other arm, the three of you making your way to the house.
"Why? What's up?" Wonyoung asked, sounding concerned.
You waved it off, shaking your head. "It's nothing. Maybe I'm overthinking but there's just a feeling poking at me,"
"Is it the 'ex tingle'?"
"I hope not,"
The ex tingle was something you and your best friends discovered, it was something stupid yet strangely accurate. Honestly, it might sound ridiculous, but to you three, it was far from ridiculous. Once, you got a weird unexplainable gut feeling at a party and guess what? Your ex showed up. The other time, Yunjin had the same feeling and her ex rounded the corner, followed by Wonyoung bumping into her ex at a cafe.
From then on, it would continue happening here and there. Once would be a coincidence, but considering it was more than once, you figured it was a connection telepathically. 
"It's a jock party. As much as I don't want to pray for your downfall accidentally, one of them might be there," Wonyoung frowned, speaking the cold hard truth. Truthfully, you were numb to the sight of your ex, having to see them once in a while at a random party and them being somewhat well known, it was hard to avoid them.
“We'll be your ‘ex tingle’ for the night, Y/N,” Yunjin smiled comfortingly at you, cracking some random jokes and telling you two about the craziest stories on the way there, certainly getting your mind off everything. You were ready to take on the night. Maybe not until the point where you find yourself in someone’s bed.
The whole picture of drunk college students and randos making out by the pool already had you questioning your decisions when you got there. From your observations, the hockey players and footballers were here, joined with some other jocks too. Before you could form a conscious thought, Yunjin pulled you towards the kitchen where they had a makeshift bar, poured you a glass of some strong concoction she probably made. 
With one last gulp and a few words of affirmation to update one another, you parted ways with them and ventured into the deeper parts of the house alone, hoping you wouldn't end up regretting that decision. The music reverberated throughout the house, some were with their friends but many had partners accompanying, which totally did not make you feel slightly out of place.
The corridors were littered with people and you had to squeeze your way through. Among the many heads blocking your view, your eyes caught a particular bright one, white shining hair. Just when you thought you were getting excited to see a familiar face, the feeling was short-lived after you saw a girl by his side. You knew you shouldn't be disappointed. Consciously speaking you tried convincing yourself it was nothing, but when it came to your heart, it feels like you were punched in the guts.
They were close to each other, whispering and laughing. Then it occurred to you, maybe you were just like her. Another girl he gets and leaves, moving on without any committed feelings. It was probably a bad idea getting involved with another athlete, wasn't it?
Having a midlife crisis while being half drunk wasn't the best idea for the night. The relationship trauma you hadn’t fully healed from simply haunted you, but what you didn’t expect next was the literal physical embodiment of said trauma reappearing before you. The jock ex who happened to break your heart into pieces was leaning against a doorframe, making out with some girl.
That’s a double killer for the night. Where was Yunjin’s ‘ex tingle’ anyway?
Maybe choosing to go home and blast some Taylor Swift or Olivia Rodrigo songs would be a better healing option. But instead, you decided to choose a different type of peace by managing your way through the bodies of college students, towards a balcony you didn't even realise until then. 
Luck was fortunately on your side. The balcony was empty and unoccupied. There were small chairs for you to sit and spend the night doing nothing, plus the weather was perfect enough to sit out. That was it, you were going to have your alone time and sober up, hopefully not letting the idea of jumping down tempt you.
Staring into space and sitting uncomfortably on one of the small chairs has somehow caught someone's attention. You heard the glass door to the balcony open behind you, but you didn't really react until a second later, looking up just to see the person you were hoping to see. Sunghoon.
"Why're you all alone out here?" He carefully sat on the unoccupied seat next to you, testing the waters whether he could scoot closer, and you let him. He inched closer without you realising, shoulders pressed against each other now. 
"Just wanted to get out of there, it's stuffy," you shrugged, scrunching your nose a little. “Plus, I saw my ex too, what an eyesore,”
“Screw him,”
“Wow,” you stared at him, a hand on your chest, feigning shock. “You’re taking my side despite not knowing my ex,”
“Well, I believe you would do no wrong, it’s definitely him that’s the problem,”
“You’re not wrong, but you also have too much trust in me, Park,”
“Maybe, but that’s because I like you,”
You froze. Literally. Eyes wide and mouth agape. You swore you felt everything around you stop as well. Did he just—? There’s no way he said that, right?
There was a beat of silence before Sunghoon burst out laughing softly at your reaction, the cheesiest grin on his face. “What’s with that look?”
“I’m shocked,”
“That I like you?”
“Yes, but also the fact that you’ve said it so confidently,”
“Well, I’m confident in stating facts,” he shrugged nonchalantly, leaning in closer. “Do you like me?”
“Maybe,” you dragged out your syllables, getting flustered under the intensity of his gaze. Truthfully, you would be screaming ‘yes’ at once. But you know better, especially when Wonyoung’s first rule of flirting was to play hard to get, yet, there’s no promise in how long you’d last. “Wait, but aren’t you here with someone tonight?”
“Me?” he pointed at himself, seemingly confused. “I came here with Heeseung, that's all,” he said, but then, a certain realisation hit him and his expression morphed, a playful smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “Did you perhaps see me with someone?” Was he some kind of mindreader?
“What—” you sputtered, getting busted and instantly flustered. 
“I saw you in the corridor just now before you rushed away, I didn’t think you saw me either,” he explained, searching for your escaping gaze as you were increasingly getting embarrassed. “That was Heeseung’s girlfriend, nothing more,”
“Oh,” Were you glad? Yes. But were you also embarrassed? Yes
“Just wanted to make it clear. Plus, I have nothing to hide from you, Y/N. I know you probably heard … things about the hockey team, and I can’t completely defend some of my teammates' behaviour, but you know, not all of us are like that,” he shrugged, gaze turning softer the moment it met yours. “I don’t just start something I don’t want. I make it clear if I want someone,”
His words were sincere, eyes never leaving yours as he said them. You both knew what you wanted there and then: each other. 
“I want your trust, even if it means that I have to gain it, I will,” he continued, close to you till the point where you could feel heat radiating off him. 
“I trust you, Hoonie, I do,” you whispered, and maybe it was the fact that you both were intoxicated, but shame was nonexistent. Sunghoon was speaking his mind, and you were letting your thoughts be known as well. “I do feel the same as you, I want you,”
You could tell your words had their effects on Sunghoon. His hands were balled up in a fist, trying to keep his composure with all his might, jaw clenched and breathing shallow. “As crude as I sound right now, I would love to fuck you again, but let me bring you out on a date first, please,”
You rolled your eyes at his shamelessness, showing the effects of the alcohol in his bloodstream. Even so, you couldn’t really deny his offer either, but were you going to say that? Nope. “You’re such a gentleman, Hoonie,” you snickered, nudging him lightly.  “I'd love to go on a date with you,”
"You would?"
You nodded. "I wanna try this out,"
"Me too," he brushed the back of his hand against your cheek softly, gentle eyes staring back at you. "I won't let you down, pretty girl."
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“DO YOU THINK WE’RE MOVING TOO FAST?”
“You literally fucked before you even fully knew each others’ name. Trust me, I don't think so,”
You rolled your eyes at Yunjin's words, though it was mostly true. It was the weekend and Sunghoon stuck to his words like the gentleman he was, sending you a vague message: 'wear something comfortable'. Whatever that meant.
Yunjin was there the whole time trying to give you some bit of mental support as you got ready. All until she had to let you go when it was time to meet up with Sunghoon. 
He was waiting for you a few floors down your dorm room, and you unknowingly sped up your steps to get to him quicker. The moment you laid your eyes on his figure, you practically bounded towards him.
"Hoonie!"
Sunghoon instantly glanced up, recognizing your voice at once. The corners of his lips turned upwards, gaze softening and arms reaching out for you. "Hey,"
"Hi," you greeted back, accepting his hand and letting his fingers intertwined with yours.
"You look great," he complimented, even though you were in a simple outfit as per his request. It was the little things that got you.
"Thank you," you took the chance to scan his attire, one that was matching the same simplicity as yours. A white polo paired with dark blue jeans, rocking a minimalistic aesthetic. In conclusion, you want him … badly.
"What do you have in mind?" You asked as he guided you to the location of his car, even making the effort of opening the door for you. 
"Grab dinner and then bring you to my favourite place," he smiled simply.
"Your favourite place?" You wondered aloud, your curiosity making him smile wider.
"You'll see,"
Sunghoon brought you to a nice restaurant, one where he secretly made a whole reservation and booked a private area all without your knowledge. It was almost like that night where you had the unofficial date with him, except this time, things seemed different. In the short span of time, something between you and him brewed, and it was obviously lingering in the air.
The dinner was filled with laughter and getting to know a new side of Sunghoon. The man who seemed cold and mighty at first glance, star player of the hockey team, was actually just a softie at heart. He shared about his pet dog back at home, favourite movies and songs, random facts about himself that surprised you too much.
He was also a jokester that popped too many puns and dad jokes, but surprisingly, you couldn't get tired by it. Even when you talked and shared things about yourself, Sunghoon was all ears and maintained eye contact throughout, and you couldn't lie, at one point, you felt yourself under his gaze. 
That dinner lasted for almost two hours, but ultimately felt too short. Now it was finally time for the thing you've waited the whole night for: Sunghoon's mysterious favourite place.
All while Sunghoon drove, you got the chance to play your favourite songs on the radio, lip syncing to them, unaware of the dreamy look Sunghoon casted over at you once in a while, the cheesiest grin on his face. 
Sunghoon's car soon came to a stop, then he led you out and towards the place you anticipated. Your curiosity and interest only increased as you neared, until Sunghoon pushed open the door and switched the lights on, your mouth opened wide in shock.
You were in a skating rink, an empty one. How did Sunghoon manage to pull this one out? You had no idea. 
"You didn't steal the keys or break in, right?" 
Sunghoon rolled his eyes at your remarks, a look of amusement on his face staring back at you. "Surprisingly, no. I used to work here, and I got my friend who still works here to sneak the keys to me," he dangled the keys in his hand. "So, this is going to be a tiny secret between me, my friend and you, deal?"
You mimicked zipping your lips shut, excitement evident in your beaming features. "Deal,"
He flashed a smile at your gesture, not just any smile, but the sweetest one. The same one that reached his eyes, presenting you crescent moon-like shapes, gaze filled with endearment. Maybe because he did find you endearing.
"Come on, I promise I won't let you fall," he reached for your hand, pulling you close and you followed him wordlessly, letting him take the lead once more.
He picked out the skates of your size, knowing the place better, and soon came running back to your waiting figure on the bench. You were about to take them from him, but before you could, he was already on his knees.
"I'll help you," he said softly, and the moment you saw the genuinity in his eyes, you couldn't say 'no'.
"You worked here before? What did you do here?" You struck up a conversation as he helped the skates onto your feet, tying them up one after the other.
"Summer job. You know I can never leave the rink," he snickered under his breath. "Took up the job to coach the youths and beginners for hockey. It was humbling to say the least,"
"How so?" It was no lie you couldn't get your eyes off of the top of his head. His silver locks shined even brighter under the lights, the soft sheen of it enticed you to touch it. But that wasn't it, you just wished he could look up at that moment.
"Kids are a difficult bunch to deal with. They're either angels or devils, no in between," 
"Word. I did babysitting before and it was something I never want to do ever again," you recalled back to your own summer job during your teen years. 'Horrible' was all you could use to summarise it. "I would've loved seeing a hockey coach you though,"
Look up. Look up. Look up!
"Really?" With a final pull to the laces, he glanced up, brown irises locked with yours. He was close, and gosh, you were holding back every fibre of your body to not jump into his hold.
"It would've been cute," technically, you meant him. The sight of Sunghoon with kids was something you wished to witness.
He laughed, shaking his head lightly. "You amuse me, L/N,"
You shrugged. "What can I say? I have that charm. Now, are you going to take me skating or what?"
Sunghoon laughed at your bluntness, took your hand and walked towards the rink. There was no lie that you were actually scared to get onto the ice, being heavily inexperienced and having bad balance, that was a bad combo to have. You could trust Sunghoon … right?
"You're scared," his hold on you tightened the moment you stepped onto the ice, legs wobbly and hands grabbing frantically at him. "I got you,"
"I don't think I've got this in me,"
"You're giving up already?"
"Not giving up, just … doubtful,"
"We're changing that mindset today," he sounded too determined that it had you slightly taken aback. Your hold on him remained tight as he led you further into the middle, telling you what you should and shouldn’t do.
You couldn’t stop staring at him, even when he was running through the basics with you, all you could focus on was him. The passion in his voice was hard to miss, his expressions scrunched up in concentration as he looked at you taking baby steps. Soon, you were able to skate a distance away from him on your own, it was a miracle that you couldn’t believe yourself.
“You’re getting a hang at this. Didn’t know you were such a quick learner,” he whistled as he skated towards you, a smile gracing his face.
“Had a good teacher, that’s all,” you manoeuvred awkwardly until you were in front of him, catching onto his arm instinctively.
His hands reached out for you as well, his touch light and gentle, matching the softness in his gaze that stared back at you. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, or what his eyes were expressing, but all you knew was the air between you and him carried an unspeakable tension that you were both aware of. Something in you wished for him to pull you in closer, and maybe … just maybe, he heard your thoughts.
You let out a gasp when you felt his hold on you tightened and he tugged you in after, narrowly losing your balance but managed to keep yourself steady when your hands landed on his shoulder. Eyes wide, mind frazzled as you stared up at him, meeting his playful gaze and cheeky smirk.
You narrowed your eyes at him, though your expressions couldn’t hide your true feelings. “What was that for?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Wanted you close,”
He can’t just say that and expect you to not go crazy.
Two can play at that game. 
“You could’ve just said that,” your hold on his shoulder travelled slowly down to his arms until his hand which you took and placed on your waist, moving slightly closer to him, all while you maintained an unbothered front as he slowly crumbled.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he grunted out, eyes flickering, gaze lingering on your lips occasionally. 
You could only laugh quietly, removing yourself from him and skating away, his touch on your skin still burning. He skated alongside you, twisting and turning around, showing you his hidden skills until it became a chasing game out of the blue. You were skating after him, your movements still lacklustre, but what you didn’t notice was Sunghoon already stopping in front of you, yet you couldn’t find the right momentum to slow down. Oh no.
Inevitably, you crashed into his body right at that moment when he turned around, his arms wrapping around your waist without thinking. Off you two went falling onto the ice where Sunghoon landed on his back with a small thud while you fell on top of him.
“Oh God, I’m sorry, are you okay?” your words came out rushed, trying to push yourself up but the slippery ice only made you more clumsy. “Are you injured? Would this affect your performance when you play? You’ve got a game soon—”
“Sweetheart,” Sunghoon sighed, his head slightly raised. “I’m fine, don’t worry,” he casted you a reassuring smile. “So does this mean you’ve fallen for me?”
He was too unserious.
“Shut up. I know your back's hurting.”
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“IT'S GETTING SERIOUS,”
“It's so definitely is,”
Another night, another party with the girls. It wasn't surprising in any way, moreover, it would be more surprising if they didn't go out partying. 
You told them about the date, spilling what was needed to be split as per usual. But somehow, the discussion managed to last for over a few days, them still gushing and cheering you two on, already creating delusional scenarios. 
"We're taking it slow, okay?" 
It was indeed baby steps. A few dates and constant texting, you felt the rush and butterflies that you haven't experienced in a long while. 
"Well faster up, this ship needs to sail," Wonyoung said in frustration, being in the frontline of the Y/N and Sunghoon ship.
"It will," Yunjin whispered affirmatively to Wonyoung, while you just brushed it off with a quick roll of the eyes. "He's here tonight too," she nudged you, trying to get a reaction from you, to which you just shrugged casually, but realistically, you were feeling the opposite internally.
“I’m getting an ex tingle,” Wonyoung said, her eyes trained on somebody from a distance away. 
“Who?” you tried following her gaze, searching for the person in the crowd.
“Sunghoon's ex,” Wonyoung said with a certain distaste in her tone. “Gosh, I remember her. We used to be classmates back then, and she was the biggest fake I’ve ever met. We had a lecture together once when she was still dating him and you couldn’t believe the amount of times she was talking about him and saying how she’s dating a star player, it was insufferable,”
You and Yunjin exchanged a look that practically screamed ‘yikes’ before Wonyoung continued. “She’s Olivia Lee, by the way, bad reputation to her name. I wonder why they even dated in the first place, from what I heard, the relationship only lasted a month,”
“You’re kidding,” 
“I wish I was,”
“No way my ex is here too, I see him over there,” Yunjin groaned, momentarily switching the subject, earning both you and Wonyoung’s attention and diverted them to her ex. You forgot about Sunghoon’s ex and him in general as you and your friends shared crazy stories over a lousy cup of beer.
The night went on without seeing a single sight of Sunghoon, but that didn’t bother you at all. A couple cups of beer and some shots had you tipsy enough to stay in one corner while your friends went off dancing with guys from the frat. There you were, eyes threatening to shut and energy on low, you could really use a mattress right there and then. 
A stream of shouts and whoops welcomed whoever that was walking through the front door, which resulted in successfully capturing your attention and waking you up temporarily. ‘You’re late’ was complained by the host to the guys that were surrounded by too many people for you to distinguish. It was all too noisy and messy in the room, so you decided to take a quick run to the kitchen for a refill. 
The last you expected when coming out from the kitchen with your cup full was a white haired hockey player standing across the room, his eyes wandering around and searching through the crowd, until it landed on you. The one he was looking for, the one he could recognise even in a room full of people. 
His face lit up, trying to make his way to you and having to mutter awkward ‘excuse me’s, never breaking eye contact throughout his bee-line towards you. The moment he successfully got to you, he didn’t even say a word before wrapping an arm around you, pulling you in for a hug.
“Hello,” you whispered in his ear as he rocked the both of you side to side.
“Hey, I’ve missed you—” Okay, that had your heart exploding. “I’m sorry for not being able to hang out much, I’ve been busy with practices. Coach has been on our asses,” he sighed when he slowly pulled away, smiling sadly.
“I get it, it’s fine,” you patted his shoulder in assurance. “We still text anyway, but hey, you didn’t tell me you’d be coming tonight,”
“I wasn’t going to, Heeseung and Jay dragged me here,” he nodded to the direction where both his best friends were, currently chugging down alcohol as if they were dying of thirst. “Which was a bad idea,” he murmured, and you knew what he was talking about.
“Forget about them,” you poked at his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Just enjoy the night, what could possibly go wrong?” 
Apparently, everything.
Sunghoon got roped away soon after by his best friends and you were pulled away by your own as well. It was all chill until you saw Sunghoon in a corner, his back facing you and the flailing of his hands were enough to tell that he was agitated. Your eyes averted to the right, and there she was, his ex. 
A sinking feeling grew in your stomach. The sight before you wasn’t even a good sign between them, there was nothing to worry about, but you just couldn’t help worrying for Sunghoon. Maybe because you were too focused on them, and the universe wanted you to worry for yourself instead, because just then, someone bumped into you, causing you to spill your drink.
“Hey! What the hell?” you hissed, flicking away the substance on your hand before turning to look at who the person was. Oh, he wasn’t just any person. It was Juyeon, aka, Mr Ex-Fuckbuddy from the football team.
“Bro—Y/N?” realisation dawned in both of your eyes, then it turned to equal annoyance. Last you remembered, things didn’t exactly go well at the end.
“Hey…” you faltered, not knowing whether to make the dash or to stay. 
“Haven’t seen you in awhile, how have you been?”
Was he seriously pulling the ‘how are you’ bullshit question?
“I’m doing amazing, sparkling and dazzling,”
Juyeon’s eyebrows were scrunched in a bunch, a look of doubt painted on his expressions. “Really? I didn’t think anyone else besides me would fuck better,”
You sharply inhaled. He was a douche, you knew that, but to have the audacity to be a cocky, annoying one was surely ticking you off. 
You scoffed. “Oh trust me, my last fuck was great, out of the world even,”
“I doubt that, who was it?”
“Why would I tell you? Why are you acting like those nosy asses out there, gosh,” 
He suddenly got a hold of your wrist, tugging you roughly and hurting you with his tight grip. “I know we’re done, but we could always call me up,”
“What? Let go of me!” you tried pulling your hand, but his grip was strong, and you were so close to yelling out, having a crisis internally and regretting letting your friends wander off.
“She said let go, asshole,” unexpectedly, Sunghoon’s gruff voice travelled into your ears. Before you knew it, he was standing right behind you, hand grabbing on Juyeon’s, an unrecognisable look on his face, one that was enough to have Juyeon to let go.
“I’m guessing you’re the one she’s fucking,”
“What?” both you and Sunghoon exclaimed in disbelief. To be fair, he wasn’t completely wrong though.
“Don’t play dumb, jackass. How good are you—”
You couldn’t stand it anymore, interjecting him. “Can you shut up? This has nothing to do with you. We weren’t even together,”
“I sure can fuck better than him—” 
What shocked you the most that night after a series of interesting events happened to be when Sunghoon landed a punch on Juyeon’s face. A gasp escaped you and so did everyone around. The people in the room slowed down what they were doing and had their attention on the two instead. For fuck’s sake, you weren’t about to be those typical cliches or Wattpad scenes where you stopped them both. But were you going to let them beat each other up? Hell no.
It took a moment before Juyeon composed himself and threw a punch back at Sunghoon, who only recovered quickly and reciprocated the punch. This wasn’t going to end well. Unfortunately, you didn’t know his friends enough to have their numbers, and all you could do was escape the crowd to locate them.
Finding them didn’t take long when they themselves had heard the commotion. You swore a headache was expecting you since you weren’t even fully sober enough for all this and the weight of everything around you was overwhelming. The feeling of watching both Heeseung and Jay pull Sunghoon out was complicated. You rushed over to check up on him, and everything eventually passed in a blur until you soon found yourself in his car.
It was inevitably silent and stuffy in the car. What happened before this felt like a haze. Sunghoon didn’t even bother cleaning up and left straight away, leaving everyone dumbfounded, including you. Yet, you couldn’t bear to let him leave like that, not when he was hurt. So, you did what you needed to do and followed him. 
He knew you were behind him, he just didn’t dare to look you in the eyes after the stunt he pulled. When you both reached his car, he turned around, mustering his calmest expression.  
“Let’s go,” he said softly and quietly before reaching over to the car door to open it for you. 
Now here you were, not knowing what to say. You couldn’t tell the thoughts going through his brain at that moment. How was he feeling? Was that wound on his lips hurting? 
“Hoonie, you know Juyeon is a douche, right? He acts like that to get on your nerves and it didn’t help that he was drunk too. Don’t let him get to you,”
A sigh left Sunghoon’s lips, his grip on the steering wheel absentmindedly tightened. “I know, I just couldn’t believe it. The way he was speaking to you, how he acted and treated you—it made me mad, and the thing is, I don’t know why I’m feeling like this,”
“Like what?”
He seemed as if he wanted to say something he had been holding in for a long time, mouth agape and was ready to spill, but alas, he didn’t have the guts to do so, to tell you how he felt, his true feelings. He shook his head, lips pressed in a thin line. “It’s nothing, I've probably had a long night,” he mumbled, which you found odd, but you figured it wasn’t the right time to press on anyway. 
“Plus, I can’t believe you’d let an asshole like that fuck you,” he grumbled with a sour look on his face, frowning deeply and eyebrows etched together.
You let out a laugh, finding his reaction too amusing. “You’re jealous?”
“Maybe,” he shrugged, smiling a little.
“Those were desperate times, okay?” you said dismissively, even though most parts of it were true. “He doesn’t fuck better than you though, that’s for sure,” you mumbled under your breath, hoping he didn’t catch what you’ve just said, but judging from the cheshire grin, you figured he did.
Despite the sneaky remark from you, he was surprisingly silent, which gave you an opening opportunity to strike. There was another thing you were curious about and itching to know, the influence of alcohol simply not stopping you from blabbering anyway. “I saw you with your ex just now,”
At first, Sunghoon looked surprised that you'd brought it up, then he let out a barely audible sigh, lips flattened into a thin line as he ran a hand through his hair. "Just like you, I was bombarded by a drunk ex. I don't know what her problem was but she was having some one sided beef there. We didn't really end on good terms but I've moved on,"
He clicked his tongue, pausing for a moment. "Desperate times, you know?" He playfully quoted you, a knowing smile dawned on his face.
"And we're both moving past it,"
Sunghoon merely nodded, the smile remained on his lips. Slowly but surely, the tension diffused too, and you told Sunghoon some crazy party stories as a way to entertain yourself throughout the ride back to the dorm.
Walking back, Sunghoon had an arm around your waist, keeping you balanced as you tried to not stumble in your steps. “My dorm’s a little far from here, I think it’s at the other end? I don’t want to inconvenient you further so maybe I can go back myself—”
“Y/N, I’m not letting you walk to your dorm in the dead of the night when you’re not fully sober,” Sunghoon persisted, his hold tightening. “Just stay over at mine. I don’t think the guys will be back anyway, they’re probably going to pass out over there,”
“Really?”
“Really,”  
Sunghoon’s dorm room was exactly how you'd remembered it from that night. Slightly messy but still clean enough for it to not be a biohazard. The doors to their rooms had their names on it with tiny doodles as a decoration. Hockey sticks and gears littered the area, a whiteboard in the middle of the room with  drawn out tactics that you found interesting. 
“Nice … whiteboard you have over there,” you nodded at the big object overtaking their living room area, chuckling slightly.
“Easily the best Friday night game to have,” he smiled, helping you with your purse and giving you his hand when you took your shoes off. “I’ll get you some clothes to change into, you can sleep in my bed,”
“What about you?”
“I’ll sleep in the other room,”
You opened your mouth to refute, but nothing came out. Instead, you turned your attention to something else. “Hey—uh—your wounds, they’re not cleaned, aren’t they?”
Sunghoon halted in his steps, turning around smoothly to reveal his busted lips and a small bruise forming around his eye. He shook his head. You gestured for him to come closer, sighing a little. 
“I suppose you do have a safety kit around here, don’t you?” 
“Bathroom,”
It didn’t take you long enough to rummage through the cupboard in his bathroom to find the red safety kit, taking it along with you out to the room where he sat on his bed waiting. 
“I’m a little embarrassed, you know?” he said all of a sudden, with you applying the gel on his lips and him having to resist the pain, wincing once in a while. 
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ve seen worse,”
“Me getting busted up in games is normal, but getting beaten up by some lousy footballer is a new low I never expected,”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head slightly. Truth be told, you were ignoring how close you were to him at that moment. He had his legs spread open, you standing in between, his hands resting comfortably by his sides on the bed. Honestly, it took you everything not to go insane.
“I just didn’t want it to be in front of you,”
“Why?” you said slowly, pressing the ice bag on his bruise now.
“There’s something called ‘saving face’,” he chuckled, hands making contact with yours atop the ice bag, eventually reluctantly having to remove yours from it. 
“Well, Park, I’m always ready to witness a new side of you,”
Sunghoon let out a laugh of amusement, head tilted to the side with a small grin. “You haven’t seen the singer side of me yet. We need to go karaoke one day,”
“Writing that down later,”
“You should be sleeping instead, sweets, it’s late,” he straightened up, poking your arm gently. “Talk tomorrow?”
You nodded, unable to push down the feeling of disappointment that you had to go to bed already. “Don’t leave the ice bag melting in your room!” you called out as he exited, him only responding with a dismissive wave. 
Was it bad that as you changed in his room and got ready for bed, you secretly craved his presence? It probably was. Your promise to yourself about keeping your heart safe was gradually breaking. Something about him just made you open your heart easier, as if he was just too easy to love. Even when you tucked yourself into the familiar sheets of his, you thought of him. The bed felt lighter unlike the last time you were here. 
Time was passing but you seemed to be awake, wondering what the girls were up to after seeing their last messages, pondering if you should get out of bed for a cup of water. Your internal monologue got interrupted once you heard the door creak, heavy footsteps filled the room before you felt a dip in the bed.
You turned around, opening your eyes in an instant, meeting Sunghoon’s tired ones in the dim glow from the night light. “Hoonie?”
He turned frantic and sat up, probably not expecting you to be awake. “Sorry. I–I can leave if you want to,”
You shook your head, patting the spot next to you. “Stay. It’s fine,”
“You sure?”
“I am. This isn’t our first anyway,” you tucked yourself in, watching Sunghoon’s careful movements as he made himself comfortable. “I’m guessing you can’t sleep because it wasn’t your bed, huh?”
“Bingo,” he yawned out. “What about you? I didn’t think you’d be awake now,”
You shrugged, reaching over to sweep the loose strands away from his face. It might’ve been a small gesture, but at that moment, Sunghoon froze. “I don’t know, I just couldn’t sleep,”
“What were you thinking about?” 
“You’d want to know?”
He considered for a second, then shook his head softly, his gentle smile gracing his features, one that shone even in the dark. “I’ll keep myself curious. Let’s talk in the morning or else we’ll be some sleep deprived zombies. Night, Y/N,”
“Night, Hoonie.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to close your eyes after he had done so. It didn’t fully occur to you that you were barely inches away from him, the close proximity had your skin grazing against each other. You wanted to reach over and trace the moles on his face, to count each of his breaths and heartbeat, but you held yourself back, merely basking in his presence until you slowly drifted off to sleep yourself.
Truthfully, it had been him that occupied your thoughts. You were thinking about him. He was solely the reason you couldn’t sleep. 
Park Sunghoon. What were you doing to me?
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"YOU'RE COMING BACK, RIGHT?"
Holiday season was coming soon and break was approaching. You were packing some clothes for your short stay back home until your phone rang, noticing it was your mother who'd called.
"I am," you said, glancing around the floor that happened to be a mess of clothes. "Aren't you happy I'm coming home this year?"
"Of course I am," she exclaimed. "But you know what's exciting too?"
"What?"
"Mrs Park and her family are coming over for dinner during the holidays!"
Oh. My. God. 
"Huh?"
"Mrs Park? You've met her!"
"Since when were you buddies with her?" You abandoned your packing, now standing up with your hand on your hips.
"Since you were gone, hello? Can't I make some friends?"
"That's not what I meant,"
"Well, she's nice and we have a lot of things in common. Plus, aren't you friends with her son?"
"Uh—" 'friends' was maybe not the most suitable word to describe your relationship with him.
"Whatever it is, get close to him. You know how charming he is—"
"I get it, mum, not setting me up with someone for a day won't kill you,"
"You being single will kill me eventually," she grumbled on the other end, but you decided to wave it off. "Anyway, come back as early as you can, I need help, okay?"
"I will,"
"Bring your friend over too since she's dropping you off. Jennifer, was it?"
"She's the one,"
"I'll pack her some food. Bye." 
"Bye," you ended the call with an exasperated sigh, falling into bed and kicking your clothes away. 
How were you to survive the holidays when Sunghoon was coming over? 
You weren't.
The days leading up to it were long and it didn’t help that it was. When the time came, you still hadn’t gotten a proper grip of yourself to face him either. You couldn’t even explain the reason you felt nervous seeing him. Was it because you haven’t seen him in person for a while? His text messages were nothing but excitement about seeing you again, and you couldn’t lie, it made your heart flip. 
Your efforts to make yourself more presentable definitely didn’t go to waste. The moment Sunghoon entered the comforts of your home, his eyes never left yours and your figure. Neither could yours. He was dressed formally, a suit paired with a black tie, hair combed neatly. He knew he had an effect on you and he sure was utilising it well. However, you were affecting him in the same way. 
After your mother’s over enthusiastic welcome and overflowing compliments to Sunghoon, you and him were finally left alone. Your mother made sure to give you a knowing glance before leaving, which totally screamed, ‘go get your man’ and you knew she was not backing down.
“Hey, pretty lady,” he whispered to you, greeting you in the absence of each other’s parents who wandered off to the dining area, leaving you two by the door. “You look amazing tonight,”
“Thank you, kind sir,” your hands travelled up to his tie. “You’re very handsome too,” you’ve never seen him in a suit before, and you were very much eating up every part of it now.
“Thank you,” he said, a sense of tenderness in his gaze and voice. “How was your holiday? How’s it going?”
“Nothing much. I’ve done some shopping and lazed around, that’s all,” it was true, being back home, you wanted to do nothing and eventually submitted to staying in bed or calling the girls once in a while. “You?”
“Trained a little—force of habit—played games, watched movies, and even helped Jay plan a date,”
“Seriously?”
He laughed a little, but nodded in response, the dimples on his face making you swoon secretly. There was a pause between you and him, but then you spoke up, unintentionally slipping out your inner thoughts to him.
“Can I be honest?”
“Yeah,” he responded without a doubt.
“I missed you,”
Sunghoon most likely didn’t expect the words that poured from your lips. Hell, he seemed to be in disbelief that you actually said it. Although his cheeks didn’t flush red, the tips of his ears did give it away, turning scarlet by the next second. He let out a cough, trying to mask his reaction.
“I missed you too,”
If you could explode now, you would. The corners of your lips were twitching, eventually stretching into a smile, a feeling of giddiness that you haven’t felt in a long time bubbled internally. Sunghoon’s nose crinkled with a wide smile, his eyes filled with a type of affection that no one else could mirror. 
“Guys, let’s eat!”
It was time for dinner, but you simply wanted to stay by the door with Sunghoon. He waited for you to join his side first before leaving, hands instinctively reaching for yours but then again, it was a dinner with your family around, the two of you had to be more lowkey, so all he could was retract his hand. But when he pulled the chair for you, he made sure to slyly place his hand on your waist, eliciting a small gasp and narrowed gaze from you.
Cunning bastard.
Throughout the dinner, Sunghoon didn’t hide how obvious his attention was on you. At all. The occasional glance from Sunghoon was something you didn’t miss, neither was his laughter that filled your ears or his attentiveness whenever you talked. The exchange of brief smiles and knees coming in contact from time to time had your mind on a shutdown, you couldn’t get him off your mind. 
When it was time for dessert, your families shifted to the living room area to talk over glasses of wine, once again leaving you two together. There was nowhere else you could be alone with Sunghoon other than your room, so you made the most sane decision by dragging him there, hoping your parents wouldn’t think you’re up to something unright.
“I didn’t strike you as a rock fan,” he glanced around your room, specifically at the posters of rock bands that you kept up since you were fourteen. 
“Me too,” you joked, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. “It was a phase I had years back,”
“Emo rocker teen phase?”
“I guess you can say that,” you patted the empty spot next to you, hoping he’d come and join you. “I don’t have games to entertain you here though,”
“Haha,” he said flatly and sarcastically, accepting your silent offer and joined your side, feeling the slight dip of your bed. 
“You know, you’re the first guy I welcomed into my room,”
“I am?”
You nodded, shifting awkwardly from the short length of your dress that continuously hiked up. “I don’t really know what to do,”
“You don’t need to, we can just do nothing,” he reassured, bumping your shoulder softly. “We can talk if you want to?”
“I’d love to,” you smiled, not expecting a different kind of intimacy, maybe the best kind even. “Will it be weird to ask if we can lie down?”
“Not at all, sweets,”
Sunghoon happily obliged your request, stripping his suit blazer off, then making sure to take his shoes out before he lied down and got comfortable in those sheets of yours. You, however, could call yourself a mastermind. Not knowing your simple request could somehow let you witness Sunghoon in his white button up and black tie paired with his dishevelled silver hair, you created a new kind of girl dinner for yourself.
You hid your gaze and lied down next to him, feeling the warmth emitting from his body and his cologne entering your senses. It didn’t take long for you to regret your choices and surrender to the fact that you were not God’s strongest soldier.
“How’s hockey going?” you broke the ice (pun intended) first, turning your head a little to sneak a peek of him.
“It’s alright, I suppose?” you felt him shrugging beside you, shoulders brushing against yours for the millionth time. At this point, he should just hold your hand, and you’re also going to pretend you never thought of what you just said. “There was this crazy time a few games back where Heeseung fought someone. I wasn’t surprise that he did since he tends to pull this type of shit but wow,”
You let out a scoff in disbelief and surprise. The sweet looking captain was a hothead on ice? You couldn’t believe that. “What for?”
“Someone talked shit about his now girlfriend, which was totally reasonable for him to punch the guy honestly,”
“It is! Go him,” you said in awe, reaching over to poke his cheek, which obviously startled him before he relaxed into your touch. “Tell me more hockey stories, there’s probably lots of drama, right?”
“Where do I begin?” 
Time passed too fast with the way Sunghoon told his stories and you hated the fact that it did. All of the stories he told were extra entertaining when he flailed his hands around dramatically, making sound effects and even acting them out, increasing your adoration for him unknowingly. He was just so cute. But then again, fun didn’t last long when it reached the end of the night and the Park family was ready to leave for home.
You were bidding his parents goodbye before you reached him, standing by the door the same as earlier, having the same emotions and mirroring the same smiles. Secretly, you didn’t want him to leave. What you didn’t know was neither did he, he wished to have you laughing next to him again.
“Thanks for having me tonight,” he said, suit blazer held in one hand. “And especially for your room tour, I loved those posters,”
You couldn’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes at him. “I’m glad you were here tonight,”
Somehow, in your words, it spoke much more than it had been said. The emotions conveyed from it was just enough for him to know, to realise.
“I’m glad you were with me too.”
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“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU SAW SUNGHOON PARTYING WITH A GIRL?”
You swore a blood vessel was about to burst on a Saturday morning.
“I was sober, alright? And if you guys were with me yesterday, you would’ve known,” Yunjin took a sip out of her specially made hangover cure, wincing for a second. 
“You know we’re not falling for that,” Wonyoung bit back, leaning in with a questioning look. “Now spill,”
“I saw him yesterday at the party with this girl, got pretty handsy and really close, I’m not sure if they kissed or anything,” 
“What happened after?” you asked out of curiosity, slowly losing the war of not giving a fuck.
“I don’t know, didn’t see them,”
Wonyoung gasped under her breath, raising her eyebrows. “That bitch,”
Yunjin shrugged, finishing the last of her drink. “Well, it’s not the best to write him off that quick,”
“I mean, we’re not even dating, he can do whatever he wants,”
“Don’t pull that card here please,” Yunjin had her hand up, both her and Wonyoung staring at you like hawks. “You can’t pretend you two don’t have the hots for each other,”
“Well, you’re not wrong,”
“We know, love,” Wonyoung’s smile turned sinister, a plan already up her sleeve, an idea brewing in that head of hers. “Which is why, you should go on a date,”
“What?”
“Oh my god, spite him,” Yunjin jumped on Wonyoung’s idea almost immediately. “Go text him you’re getting ready for a date or something, make him jealous,”
“He’ll come running, trust me,” Wonyoung clapped her hands, already scheming up a master plan. “I have a candidate in mind, he’s a friend of mine,”
You and Yunjin looked at Wonyoung expectantly, her smile turning into a smirk. “A player from a rival team. Eric Sohn.”
If there was something Yunjin and Wonyoung excelled at, it was being masterminds. You couldn't believe you got yourself roped into this plan of theirs, but maybe you just needed a small push, and so did Sunghoon.
First step: tell him about your date plans.
hooners: you're going on a date?
you: yeah :// wonyoung set me up with this guy
hooners: i seee, where are you having it?
you: at the place nearby, Atelier I think?
hooners: ooo, have fun!
'Have fun' was definitely typed with zero genuinity, which also meant your plan was working.
“He's taking the bait. Now, onto the date,”
Eric was a nice guy. You didn't know what Wonyoung managed to bribe him with but surprisingly, he was willing to go out on a date, except he didn't know it was a plan to make his hockey rival jealous. Awkward.  
The next step that Wonyoung claimed would be helpful was taking pictures to post on your Instagram after. A picture on your story would be enough to spur him and get him texting you back, or so she claimed.
Eric was in the middle of telling you about his course and his random hockey stories when he paused out of nowhere. His gaze averted over your head to somewhere else, an eyebrow raised in question.
“I—uhm—Y/N, is that someone you know? He won’t stop staring,”
You turned your head around, following Eric's gaze only to find Sunghoon looking back at you.
This wasn't part of the plan.
He cocked an eyebrow, a smirk greeted you. Both of his friends Jay and Heeseung were accompanying him too, but unlike him, they seemed clueless to the fact that you were there.
You stiffly turned back to face Eric, nodding slowly. “It's … complicated, don't mind him or his friends. How's your pasta?”
It would've been easy to ignore Sunghoon if only he wasn't staring at you from time to time and you could feel his burning gaze. He was purposely making this hard for you and you were pissed that the plan was somehow backfiring. So, while Eric was taking his toilet break, you took the chance to text Sunghoon, typing rather angrily.
you: what are you doing here?
hooners: out for dinner with the boys
you: HERE?
hooners: what’s wrong with this place? is the food bad?
He’s got to be kidding.
you: you know what i mean
you: i’m going to strangle you!!!!
hooners: yeah? what else?
You glanced up from your phone, whipping your head to the table he was sitting at, scoffing in disbelief. Trying to continue the last hours of your date was about to be a challenge for you and you were going to be a fighter even if it meant you were crumbling internally. 
Ignoring the obvious presence in the room was hard, but despite that, you managed to end your date successfully. You were mentally clapping yourself on the back and cheering happily. Eric, being the sweet gentleman he was, offered to drive you back, but you declined, instead, bidding him goodbye with a friendly hug.
You watched as he drove off, finally being left alone outside the restaurant’s parking lot, or so you thought.
“That was something,”
Park. Sunghoon.
“Mind explaining why you came here crashing my date?”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘crashing’,”
“Really?” you stared accusingly at him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.
Sunghoon coughed, adjusted his posture and put on a serious expression. “Well, that’s b–because I wanted to check up on you in case—I don’t know—something goes wrong. I know when someone’s an asshole and I don’t want you dating an asshole,”
“Thanks? He was actually such a sweetheart,”
You didn’t miss the way Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “Why’re you out on a date anyway?” 
“It just happened,” you shrugged, playing nonchalant even though you were feeling the opposite of that. “Why were you getting handsy with a girl yesterday?”
Sunghoon blinked, then again before realisation dawned on him. “Are you jealous?”
“Are you jealous?”
“I am. Now, don’t try changing the subject,”
For a moment, his straightforwardness caught you off guard and made you pause. His bluntness was something you’d always be surprised of. You kissed your teeth, heaving a breath in. “Fine, I am. I know you don’t owe me anything since we’re not official or whatever, but I didn’t expect you out there dancing with another girl … I thought I meant something to you,”
“You do! You mean more than just something to me, Y/N,” Sunghoon bursted out, his desperate eyes searching for yours. “Gods, I got drunk yesterday and I admit, we danced a little too … close, but after that I tried brushing her off before it escalated. I left before anything else happened, which meant nothing happened at all, seriously,”
Were you feeling stupid? Very much so. But were you somewhat glad? You were. Misunderstandings were going to be the death of you always.
“I’d never lie to you, Y/N, never in a million years” he continued on, stepping closer to test the waters. You gave him the greenlight.
“I’m sorry,” you breathed out as you felt him engulfing you in a hug, melting into his touch. “I can’t believe I’m overreacting,”
“You’re not. I would’ve reacted the same, except I wouldn’t have the balls to tell you,” he rubbed your back in comfort and reassurance, your embarrassment soon dissipated and you laughed quietly at what he said. 
“Just like today?”
“Kinda?” He was still stubborn enough to not admit it.
You slowly pulled away, but his hands were still around your waist, holding you close to him. “I trust you, Hoonie. I’m sorry I doubted you for a second,”
“You’re okay, Y/N, really. I know I’ve still yet to fully gain your trust and I get it. You’ve gotten hurt in the past, I know, but I promise I won’t do the same. You have to let me into your heart just as much as I do,”
“Oh Hoonie,” you said softly, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him back into a hug, both of your hearts fluttering without each other’s knowledge. “I promise I will.”
At that point, you’ve unknowingly already given up your heart to the man before you, surrendering to him. Because you, too, were willing to give up anything for him, just the same as he felt.
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“SO, YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU HAVEN’T SEEN SUNGHOON IN A WHILE?”
Being back home when your parents were away on vacation was a relaxing time for you. Spring break came sooner than you expected. Not only did you get the place to yourself, but also the car for you to drive yourself in and out at any time now that you’re home. It was heavenly. 
Wonyoung stopped by for a visit to keep you company, and you expected some chill time together by painting nails, watching movies, singing karaoke, but no, instead, she started digging Sunghoon related information from you. What was her objective? To get to the bottom of why you and Sunghoon weren’t making any advancements, especially in recent weeks of no updates.
“I’ve been busy, he’s been busy, so I guess that’s why,” you mumbled, not realising how disappointing it was until you’ve said it out loud. The text messages he sent were getting less, the times you’ve met up weren’t much. You were pushing these feelings and thoughts down without knowing, finally revealing them now when Wonyoung brought it up. “I feel like he’s avoiding me, actually,”
“What makes you think that?”
“We always have dinner together every Friday, or we try to eat together at least once a week, but lately, he’s been saying that he’s busy. Then, the other time I saw him, he just waved and dashed away, that’s all. We’ve been texting but it felt less than usual,”
“Oh, Y/N,” Wonyoung wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in. “Maybe he’s going through something. I say, give it a little more time, and if it’s still like this, go confront him. There’s nothing better than communication and talking it out,”
“You’re right, maybe I just find him soon,”
“But first, you need some self healing. Come on, let’s watch some movies and put on facial masks,”
Dusk soon fell upon the skies and you ended the day off with another classic 2000s movie playing in the background. Wonyoung was busy showering while you lounge comfortably on the couch, unaware of what’s happening miles away until you heard your phone buzzing with continuous notifications.
jay: Y/N!!! are you here tonight?
you: JAY!!! and where is ‘here’ supposed to be?
jay: the arena duhhh, there’s a game tonight, but it ended already
jay: we won btw ;)
you: really? i wasn’t told of it :(( but yayy! congrats! 
jay: thank you! and huh? i thought hoon would’ve told you
you: he didn’t …
jay: speaking of hoon, the thing is … he’s been acting strange all game and idk what’s up with him
you: ?
jay: it’s weird. he’s been very aggressive tonight and that’s so unlike him. he’s not the type to be like this
jay: did something happen between you two? he’s been a little off lately 
you: i don’t know too jay, that’s the problem i’ve been facing too
Jay's messages kept circling your mind endlessly even after Wonyoung left and you were ready to call it a night. It wasn't a coincidence that even Sunghoon's best friend found his behaviour odd, something must've been wrong.
You were in bed, snugged in your blankets, phone in one hand scrolling through your Instagram feed, but you couldn't stop the feeling that itched you. Rather than going to sleep, you couldn't help pressing into the messaging app, silently hoping for a notification to pop up from someone.
Sighing deeply, you gave up your last piece of hope and decided to ignore the distress you were feeling. Turning around and calling it a night, you didn't expect your wishes to be heard right at that moment.
Ding.
It came from your phone. 
In a blink of an eye, you got up immediately and let the bright light of your phone disorient your eyes. 
hooners: are you up?
hooners: i'm outside right now
Outside? Where?
hooners: your house btw
No way.
You scrambled out of bed, almost tripping in your steps and raced to your window looking like a crazed person. There he was, Park Sunghoon, flesh and bones, anxiously waiting by his car and taking peeks at your window, not noticing you.
In those years of living in your house, you've never run down the stairs as fast as you've just done. Swinging the door open, you faced the white headed hockey player.
"Y/N," he started, moving closer, though hesitant. 
"Sunghoon,"
His actual name sounded foreign from you, and it only made him realise how much he’s fucked up, but somehow, hearing you say his name brought him comfort after the time away from you. Maybe he was just insane but who knows.
“What are you doing here? It's late,” you continued, nerves creeping up on you. 
“I wanted to come see you,”
Now he’s done it.
“After avoiding me for weeks on end?”
“I wasn’t—” Sunghoon’s first instinct was to defend himself, but then he realised that you had a point, and in fact, he was the idiot here. Not to mention, an asshole too.
Your grip on the door tightened, an unexpected feeling of frustration welled up. “You sure? Look, Hoon, I don't know what's been going on with you lately, but it feels like you're pushing me away gradually. Maybe it isn't obvious, but it's the little things … and it hurts,”
“I know that I've been an asshole, and that I've been treating you unfairly, but there's just so many things going on in my head right now,”
“You don't get to do that,” you murmured, shaking your head and not believing the excuse he gave, one that you've heard many times from others. “Tell them to me, then! I'm here, Hoon, I'm always here if you need me. Don't push me away, please,”
Sunghoon was dying internally from the stupidest excuses he gave, and after hearing the desperation in your voice, he swore he was about to break soon. “I can't tell you about them,” he said quietly, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.
“Why not?” Your frustration grew, stubbornness evident, meanwhile his patience thinned. “You told me to trust you and I do, but do you not trust me? Why can't you let me in your heart?”
“It's not that … not at all … no,” 
“Then what is it?!” 
“God—It's because I like you! I'm in love with you, Y/N,” 
Love?
“It’s not that I’m not letting you in my heart, it’s just—” Sunghoon’s resolve was breaking, he simply couldn’t bear holding in the truth anymore, showing his vulnerability, “—I’m scared,” 
You were stunned to say the least, but you kept silent, letting him continue. 
“Over the past weeks, I’ve been figuring out what my feelings were, I wanted to make things clear. At one point, I just wanted to reveal it all to you, but everytime I see you I feel like I'm about to burst,” he ran a hand through his hair out of habit, clearly distressed, “I didn’t know how to tell you, I was scared I’ll fuck up, but in those days, I didn’t realise how much I was hurting you too,”
“I was a mess and I didn’t want you to see me like this, I’m sorry,” he took a step closer, your hand wanted to reach out for him, but you found yourself frozen in place. “I couldn’t get you off my mind all game. I knew I just had to tell you tonight,”
You didn’t know what to say. He liked you? Wait, no—he’s in love with you. The best part was that you felt the same, but were you also angry at him? You were.
“You’re so stupid,” you punched his shoulder, gaze narrowed at him after a solid minute of taking everything in. “I can’t believe you were avoiding me,” you mumbled, your rage dissolving into affection, your heart melting and you felt light headed. “But I understand, Hoon, I just wished you didn’t push me away,”
“I know,” he closed the space in between and pulled you close, hugging you and practically caged you in his arms, not that you were complaining. “I’m sorry,”
“I forgive you,” you ran your hand on his back in an attempt to reassure him. “I like you too, Hoonie, if that’s what you’re wondering,”
He pressed a soft kiss on the top of your head and you could feel his smile. “You always know what I’m thinking,”
“Hold on,” you pulled away slowly, your hand absentmindedly travelling to the back of his neck. “Does this—are we—”
“Officially together?” he finished your sentence, causing you to break into an amused smile. “I've been dying to ask this for a long time—well, Y/N, can I be your boyfriend?”
“You’re so cheesy!” you hit his chest, bursting out laughing and your laughs became infectious, resulting in him doing the same. “Yes, Park, I’d love to be your girlfriend,”
“So … as my girlfriend, can I kiss you right now?”
“Say less,” 
The moment you crashed your lips onto his, you swore you saw stars. His lips melted softly against yours perfectly. Without thinking, your hands pulled him in with force and your skilled effort managed to close the door behind you, only giving Sunghoon the chance to push you against it immediately.
He let out a soft groan which only sent butterflies down in your abdomen (plus somewhere else that you wouldn't admit there and then), his hands exploring the span of your body just as much as yours did to him. Knowing that you liked him back and getting to kiss you after months of pining had Sunghoon feeling as if he was on top of the world, he just couldn't get enough especially when he hasn't been close to you for weeks.
By the time you two pulled away from one another, you were both breathless and a panting mess, you were craving for him still and the fire burning in his eyes was enough to tell you that he felt the same. His hand travelled up to your cheek, gaze flickering between your irises to your lips, the tension thick enough for you to suffocate in. 
“Can I kiss you again?” he whispered, both your lips lingering close enough to  brush against each other, and it totally drove you insane knowing he was doing this on purpose.
You nodded, mumbling a quiet ‘yes’ and Sunghoon had never been more relieved, practically chasing after your lips as he dove back in and kissed you once more. He tilted his head just enough for him to deepen the kiss, pouring his utmost love, desperation and devotion into it, conveying an unspoken truth of affection and pining he had for you.
The night might’ve turned into a blur but it was one where you didn’t want to leave each other’s side. ‘Can you stay over tonight’ was answered with a yes and you welcomed him into your bed, staying up pouring secrets and your hidden truths.
What started as an impulsive and reckless night together turned into a blossoming love that you were hoping and dying to keep. A love that you were sure would last for evermore.
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IT WAS NO SECRET THAT YOU AND SUNGHOON LOVED EACH OTHER TILL THE POINT WHERE IT WAS SICKENING TO OTHERS. YOU TWO MADE THAT VERY CLEAR AND OVERLY OBVIOUS.
Yunjin and Wonyoung were accepting of him, especially after he paid for your meals with them that definitely won them over. What could you say? You and your friends were suckers for free food and little things. His friends were equally friendly and chill, welcoming you to their gatherings and games.
But other than that, both sides were also increasingly sick of you two, in an affectionate way of course. Maybe they didn’t say it, but they were. Wherever you went, he followed; wherever he went, you followed. You were simply stuck to the hip. So, in their defence, you two resembled a lovesick couple that was still in their honeymoon phase except that phase lasted for almost a year. It was rather insufferable in the beginning, but after months towards a year, they’ve gotten used to it and found it sweet instead.
Example A. At any given chance, your name would be mentioned and so would his. Sunghoon would be caught giggling at his phone pre games in the locker room, sporting your hairband on his wrist and even having a necklace with your initials on it, claiming that it was his lucky charm. Whenever he brought you round to dinners with his best friends and their partners, you and him practically blinded the rest with the amount of love you had for one another. It couldn’t be described, it was all in the gazes and small touches that conveyed the message. Unaware about it, you and him were oblivious and trapped in your bubble.
Example B. You were just as obnoxious as him. Having a picture of him as your wallpaper and creating playlists for him, your friends were gasping at the way you were acting. Hoonie this and Hoonie that, you almost became your mother. Safe to say, you were both made for each other with the same level of obsession and delusions. Your friends were happy for you two nevertheless, and they were mostly glad that you managed to find someone compatible.
Speaking of your mother, the time when you broke the news to her, you knew she would be elated, and she was. The first time you brought him back home, your mother greeted him with wide open arms, having the best dinner ever. It was the same for his parents. They were just as welcoming and loving, crushing your nerves when you went over to meet them.
Life might be stressful still but it was going great for you. There you were in your room rushing a last minute holiday assignment, bummed out that you were missing one of Sunghoon’s game, currently only getting crumbs by waiting for his messages and seeing him days after for your date. 
By the time you were halfway through your assignment, you were dozing off, phone placed in ‘do not disturb’ mode, not knowing that your phone was receiving messages then. 
Knock. Knock.
The sound coming from the window definitely got you awake at once. Alarmed and wary, you got up from your chair and slowly turned around to where your window was. But the sight you were witnessing before you had you relieved and sighing. 
It was Sunghoon, and he was hanging on for dear life, somehow still managing a lopsided smile for you. 
Despite still being surprised, you shook it off and rushed over to pull the windows open to let him in, wondering how in hell did he pull off climbing up to your window unharmed. Helping yank him through the window was enough workout for the week, but you got him in thankfully without making any odd or loud noises that might wake your parents up.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he said, rather breathlessly, snaking an arm around your middle, pulling you in naturally.
“Hi,” you whispered, letting him lean down to pepper kisses all over your face, travelling from your forehead to your cheeks before it landed on your lips. “I thought you’re coming over on Saturday?”
“I wanted to come find you,” he smiled against a haste kiss, face beaming. “The team won big tonight and I was sad you weren’t there. You’re basically my lucky charm,”
“Well, your lucky charm is stuck home doing her assignment,” you frowned, pinching his cheek softly. “Will you be staying over? It’s late, and you’re driving,”
“Do you want me to?”
“Of course I do,”
Sunghoon could never say ‘no’ to you.
“I’ll stay with you,” 
“I have clothes from which you left last time,” you noted, pursing your lips as you think of where you’ve put them. “I’ll go get them for you,”
“It’s fine,” he grabbed your wrist to stop you from taking another step from him. “Later, maybe. I just want you here,”
Trying to feel so normal and unphased from what he just said, which totally failed. His words got you grinning like an idiot, and you knew you should be getting used to his unprompted affection with words, but it still surprises you and makes you flush at times. 
“Stop, I have a boyfriend,” you joked lightly, to which he caught on easily.
He raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. “Oh yeah? I’ll beat him up right now,”
“He’s probably going to fuck you up,”
“He probably stinks!”
“Yeah he does!”
“Hey!” he laughed, wrapping both his arms around you and pulled you into a hug. Contrary to what you’ve just said, he actually smelt really good. Fresh from a shower and having the specific scent of that heavy cherry shampoo you bought for him, you could die in his arms at that moment.
“I love you,”
Your tiredness and drowsiness evaporated once you heard what he’d said. It wasn’t a part of your hallucinations, right? He said it clearly and loudly, it definitely was something you couldn’t miss at all. 
“I–is something wrong?” Your momentary disassociation and silence worried your boyfriend who tried checking up on you as he pulled away slowly. You shook your head, wasting no more time to tell him what you feel.
“I love you too,” 
His stare softened, the worry in his gaze turned to relief. The biggest smile appeared on his face, his eyes turned into crescents and the constellations of moles shone brighter than ever. There were times where Sunghoon felt actual happiness. Ones where he won championships and important games, childhood memories, but this was surely going to be a new addition. 
“Should we call it a night soon?”
“Are you just trying to get me to cuddle you?”
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, though not denying it. “Yes,”
Letting out a soft chuckle, you knew him by now, his patterns and the littlest details about him. Shaking your head slightly, your face had a playful grin plastered on. “Race you to it?”
“You’re challenging a pro-athlete now?”
“Hm, maybe?” you didn’t even give him a second before dashing away to your bathroom, leaving him stunned and frozen. 
“Hey! That’s so not fair!”
“Boohoo! Got a head start!”
“Unfair!”
If this was what it’s like to be with Sunghoon, you’d never trade it for anything, even if he’s an annoying sassy man at times. Never in a million years would you have expected yourself dating the star player of the hockey team, player number 23. He showed you colours and taught you a secret language you couldn’t see with anyone else. He showed you what love meant and what it was worth. 
The road that led to him and this might’ve been questionable and long, not to mention, crazy and stupid, but alas, there was so much love and affection that couldn’t be measured. It was a crazy, stupid, love. 
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special thanks to those who've been here since the start. i'm super thankful and i know who exactly you are! so shout out to all of you and i hope you'll look forward to my future works. as for those that tune in from time to time, still, thank you for supporting me and my works. quite emotional about the fact that this series had ended since it's my first ever one and to be able to receive so much love from it just makes me feel genuinely amazed. i'm really happy that you guys enjoy my writing and give me words of encouragement. i love reading all your messages/asks/comments. grateful that you're here, love you all. much love and kisses from me. thank you.
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( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )
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beenbaanbuun · 6 months
Text
mothers w/ mingi
words - kind of short
genres - fluff
warnings - shaving, bad relationships with family, bad relationships with food, body issues, inherited insecurity, mingi is a precarious baby
——————————————————————————
“do you think your ball trimmer will shave legs?” you turn and look at mingi who’s lay innocently on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. that is until your words sink in and his gaze shoots up to where you stand with the small contraption in hand.
“i guess so,” he shrugs as he turns his phone off and puts it straight down. you ignore the way his eyes furrow as you turn it on and inspect the blades close up. you don’t know how close the shave would be, but you guess in desperate times, that doesn’t really matter. at this point, any shave will do.
you switch it off again and nod to yourself, placing it on the dresser before going through your drawers to grab your other things ready for a shower. you pick up a plain blue pair of cotton panties that despite not being sexy at all, you’re sure mingi will find an excuse to rip off of you post shower. then you grab your comfiest sports bra that again has one too many holes to be considered sexy. finally you grab one of mingi’s shirts - an oversized one that seems to have taken permanent residence in your pyjama drawer - and begin to head to the bathroom with your boyfriend’s ball trimmer in hand too.
“hang on a second, baby,” he calls out after you, scrambling off the bed and rushing towards you until you’re close enough for him to swaddle in his grasp. arms wrap around your shoulders, pinning you to his chest, “what do you think you’re doing?”
you lean back against him, enjoying the impromptu hug more than you’d care to admit.
“shaving my legs,” you close your eyes as you inhale the familiar peppery smell of his cologne; it’s warm and invades your senses, just like him, “i lost my razor so i need to use this.”
“why are you shaving your legs?” he asks, not quite satisfied with your reply. probably because you’d stopped bothering with that sort of thing pretty soon into the relationship. it’s a lot of effort, and your hair seems to be the last thing on mingi’s mind when he saw your legs. mostly he just thinks about what’s between them and how he’s going to get to it. he hardly even pays notice to the prickly hairs that run up and down your skin.
“we’re going on holiday with my mother,” you grumble in reply, “i have to be prepared.”
ah yes; the monster-in-law…
she’s a lovely lady for the most part, inviting mingi into the family with open arms despite the fact that she obviously wasn’t expecting him when you said you were bringing a boyfriend home. its clear she doesn’t approve of the way he dresses, or the nail varnish that coats his fingertips, but that doesn’t stop her from treating him like her own son. he gets the biggest portions of her home cooked meals and the first pick of desert. she calls him handsome when she sees him wearing something she likes, and compliments his uniqueness whenever he’s wearing something that’s a little more outlandish for her old-fashioned taste. she thinks he’s brave when he colours his hair in an outlandish fashion, and gorgeous when he wears it black. all in all, she’s a pretty lovely woman once you get past the hard shell of her traditional values.
and, of course, if you ignore the way she treats you.
to be honest, mingi is impressed at how resilient you turned out after living with that woman for 18 years. constantly having your self esteem torn down can’t be good for someone’s mental health, and yet you made it out the other side with a relatively normal relationship with your body. you have a healthy relationship with food, if you don’t count the days when mingi has to coax you to eat just a little more, and the days where he’d find you scrutinising yourself in front of a mirror are, for the most part, long gone! sometimes you tell him it’s because of him you feel so comfortable in your body; he refuses to take any of the credit for your own inability to be broken.
in fact, it’s only moments like this that he begins to see cracks in those walls you’ve built up. moments when you know you’ll have to see your mum soon. it’s like alarm bells go off in your mind reminding you that you haven’t quite met her standards yet. eat less because ‘you’ve gained a bit weight recently; you ought to keep an eye on that’. shave your legs because ‘as a woman you shouldn’t have hair on your legs; it’s just not natural’. buy expensive skincare products because ‘acne? at your age? you really should take better care of yourself’. it’s these moments that mingi can see the damage done. that he really has to take care of you.
“you shouldn’t listen to your mum,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and gives you an extra tight squeeze with his gangly arms, “they’re your legs, not hers; you only ever have to do what you want to with your body.”
“i know,” you say, leaning your back into his sturdy chest. he’s so warm and cosy, so reliable and strong. the small smile that rises to your face as he holds you close is involuntary. you guess you’re just so in love that you can help it, “she’s just so hard to be around when i’m not absolutely perfect.”
“well then i don’t see the issue here,” he lets you go for just a few seconds, spinning you around until you’re facing him. once more he encloses you in his grasp, a loose grip around your waist just to keep you close, “you’re already perfect, baby.”
“you’re so cheesy,” you giggle. he laughs too. in that moment nothing matters to you but him.
“it’s not cheesy if it’s the truth,” he bends down and presses a firm kiss to your lips, “perfect, perfect, perfect baby.”
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hereforthehitsbaby · 20 days
Text
Peeper | Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader
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Synopsis: Getting the Halloween season started early with back to back parties was enough to drain you – tucker you out in a heartbeat. But Cooper used it as an excuse to see you, really see you.
Warnings: Dark!Cooper, Mentions of Stalking, Perv!Cooper, Cooper Being a Peeping Tom, Male Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Mentions of Childhood Abuse, Mentions of Fire, Mentions of a Hostage Situation, Mentions of Being Held Hostage, Choking
Rating: M
Word Count: 5.5k
Author’s Note: The SWAT outfit brought this on. You’re welcome in advance. This is second person POV from Cooper’s perspective; I wanted to try something a bit different so I hope you enjoy!  
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The darkness of night is the perfect way to hatch plans, the perfect way of preying on those who you find interest in. Never does it have to be in a malicious way. No, never does it have to be evil. It can be kind and clean, courteous and courageous, just depending on the context of the situation. Sometimes the darkness can hide a lot of bad things, shroud them in a cloud of abandon so evil can take over. They can run around on short legs, running here and there are supersonic speeds – to which no one can detect a thing. It’s brilliant in a way how evil can push itself through anyone – or anyone for that matter. How it can turn someone so delicate and perfect, into a monster overnight. But not for him, no, the evil didn’t burn itself into him from birth. He was a product of evil, a product of malice, a product of hate. He is the prodigal son of evil, he’s its perfect child.
To hide that part of himself away everyday ate at him, gnawing on his bones and flesh like a disease. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to lash out – surely anyone would from stressful work conditions to life not going the way it was planned out to be. Yet no one can justify it, no one can see that part of him, the truest part of his darkened soul. It’s a mystery, a character for that matter. Though he doesn’t see it that way. He sees it as an extension of his rage, his tumultuous upbringing and constant bullying – it is a part of his personality he can switch off with just the right coaxing. Like any type of characteristic, it isn’t long before others start to notice. Not in the way that you expect, but in a duller manner. Here and there things; His cleanliness, how he doesn’t like to leave his fingerprints anywhere, the order he needs things arranged or how he copes with uncertainty. They never raised red flags – but keen eyes took notice of his particular nature. If only they knew beneath the surface, a killer was in their midst.
Cooper Adams loves to save lives, that is a given. Fire chief for the Philadelphia Fire Department for ten years, in the business for a total of seventeen. This is what he was meant to do, what he was meant to be at the end of the day. He is the solace for those who are suffering, he is the salvation to those who are stuck. He can play God and be rewarded for it – how sweet is that? But to Cooper it isn’t about playing God or being the one who is in control, it’s more than that. It’s being who everyone relies on for stressful situations, the one who knows their way out of any type of deal. It’s prevalent in his eyes when he speaks, the passion he has for his job, his family – everything in his life really. A wholesome, well-rounded American individual; He is the picture-perfect example of masculinity. He’s the picture-perfect example of a psychopath.
Too much anger and rage was directed towards him as a child, and it was not beneficial for a growing brain. Rejection at a young age can cause fear; Fear of intimacy, fear of expression, always needing to people please to get someone to like you. Cooper went through that, way too much to admit. Always fighting to have his mother’s love, which he learned too early that would always come in the form of a hand across his face. His tears were tears of love, according to his mother. Every hit that was administered by her own hands, showed just how much she loved her son. Cooper couldn’t tell the difference until he got older – until she passed away. Alas, he felt free to be himself, instead of being her disappointment.
He never wanted to get into this line of work, other work per say. Like all others, the opportunity presented itself like any other day. A fresh-faced twenty-five-year-old who wanted to make a difference in the world after the tragedies the world faced. He wanted to be a household name, one where anyone in town could say and smiles would erupt. He would always be their hero, their martyr when the flames would not extinguish. If it meant saving everyone, he was always the first on the line. That was until his first ever fire, when he realized the world no longer had a need for his kindness – but his brutality. A seven-alarm fire at Aramark Tower in Center City was supposed to change his life forever, in which it did but not for the right reason. Cooper would’ve never described himself as a violent person, but this day changed everything.
On the twelfth floor sat the culprit for the fire, a worker who was holding a whole room hostage. Some of his very own firefighters were under this man’s unsteady hand. The gun was shaking uncontrollably in the man’s hand as he pointed it towards Cooper’s chest – the smoke slowly growing thicker from the floors above. The haze was starting to set in, and the man couldn’t stop coughing. At the moment he turned Cooper pressed the man’s front against the adjacent wall – letting all of the hostages out, the workers fleeing as the next group of firefighters came up. His own department, his flesh and blood. He was grateful they were there. But not from his firehouse, those ones fled with the chaos. Instead the firefighters from across down stared at him with amused looks, surely enough impressed that a young man like Cooper was holding his own against some sociopath. Cooper was wrong though, that is when he started to notice the evil within. Its bloodied fingers sinking into his flesh like razor wire, slicing and dicing his insides with every scale it climbed. He could feel it climbing up the column of his spine, sinking its meaty fingers through his spinal discs. “Good luck finding your way out, rookie.” Someone yelled at him as they slammed the door shut, barricading him in the inside.
All hell broke loose in that moment, that gnawing sensation he had when he was a child coming back into his adulthood – expect he couldn’t push it down anymore. Clawing at his own throat, he released a guttural scream of agony as the smoke filled the room – dropping to his hands and knees with animalistic movements. “We’re just kidding, bud. Welcome to the-“ Cooper didn’t recognize the voices, he didn’t understand who it was. The man he once held against the wall was cowering in the corner, rocking back and forth with the gun pressed into his palm. He stared at Cooper like he wasn’t human, but a creature. All Cooper could see was red, filling his vision, covering his mask to the point where he could not see. He could feel it though, his body moving languidly like he was swimming – graceful, intricate, serene. He was swimming out in Myrtle Beach like when he was a kid, feeling the crisp summer sun scorch him. But boy was it worth it, it felt safe again – knowing nothing could hurt him.
As if to wipe the sunscreen off of his forehead, Cooper brought his hand around his mask to clear off the water from it. Though it wasn’t water, and he was not swimming in the ocean. Instead in front of Cooper laid six bodies, cut into pieces. Blood coated his mask, his gear, his soul. Everything was red; The white walls coated in heroic blood of those firefighters. The man who held everyone hostage, a gunshot wound to the temple. Cooper’s eyes flared at the sight, chest heaving as the axe shook within his hand. The monster he always suppressed, let feed on his trauma and rejection as a child, finally found its place within his world – within his life. It was clear the fire was starting to burn closer to his floor when the sprinkles went off, a showering of clear and red flowing down the walls. The dark carpet soaked with the blood of the victims, and the chaos of his dissociation.
Cooper walked neatly over to the deceased man and laid the axe next to him, letting the sprinkles above soak his gear until no red stood. No one saw him go up to this floor, he never commed in like he was supposed to. No one would know it was him; The cameras are long gone. “Always the monster, Cooper. You will never outrun your evil, son.” His mom’s tender voice swept into his brain, causing him to tear up – for the amount he loathed that woman, he still missed her voice. Oxygen was starting to run low in his tank, but he knew he needed to get out. Instead of staying on the twelfth floor, Cooper managed to make his way down to the sixth, panting, out of breath, and soaked. “Adams! Where the fuck were you!?” His fire chief at the time yelled, dragging Cooper out of the doorway and into the conference room for a moment. “S-Sixteenth fl-floor. P-people s-screaming, d-d-dead.” Cooper managed to let out before he collapsed, the hard linoleum whacking against his head. Everything went dark so quick, but for the first time in his life – he felt justified.
Cooper gasps as he hears your voice coming from outside of his car, his hands shaking at the recounting of his trauma. Cooper hated waiting around, letting his mind wander, because every time it always brought him back to his first kills. The first ever lives he took, before The Butcher was his name. In a way he felt for those firefighters, knowing how the aftermath made him look to be an almost casualty of The Ripper. The narrative he chose for the last seventeen years has worked in his favor, and he would keep it that way. But alas, it eats at him just like that little demon did. But you, you were what he needed – you were his solace. You kept him sane and didn’t even know who he was. It was perfect. All Cooper could do now was slowly break you, and you’d never even know.
As you walked past Cooper’s black suburban, you pulled the nurse’s cap off of your head – thinking it appropriate to be a nurse for your first of many Halloween parties. The outfit complimented your body so well; Cooper loved watching how it hugged you in all the right places, showing off his favorite parts of you. He has seen you look at him so many times, like you fully saw him rather than it being through him. You made him feel alive, feel sane in such a cruel world. How could he ever thank you for that? Bringing himself back to reality as you walked to your front door, Cooper swallowed down the panic ready to break free from his throat, closing his eyes to ground himself. All this waiting, contemplation, it was all for you. All these months, silently pining over you, he knew his time would come soon. Your time will come soon. He wasn’t going to let this will they won’t they play out anymore. This wasn’t going to be like one of the books you liked to read – it was going to be better.
Thankfully with everyone in their Halloween costumes making their way back home, Cooper could easily blend in with the rest of the crowd. His costume was unconventional – but accurate, and cool. He managed to nab one of the Philadelphia SWAT tactical gear a while ago. Never did he think it would be of use, but here he is. It left him looking inconspicuous, blending in with all of his surroundings. When the streetlights would shut off at midnight, he didn’t need to worry about getting caught or even being seen. He could go full incognito and not have to worry – because at the end of the day no one in the neighborhood watched. They never looked out for each other or mentioned when things felt off. They were complacent in their day to day, keeping their lives separate from everyone else. That’s what Cooper loved the most about your neighborhood – no one would be suspicious of him, or know he was there. Seven-foot-tall fencing covered your property; Around the sides and back into the woods. It was private, spacious, and perfect for you. He was happy you took his advice and haggled the price. Though it was only left as a sticky note on your work desk – he convinced you that you wrote it. Cooper hated gaslighting you but, it was the only way for you to get that home. He always felt guilty but, it worked out the way it needed to.
The kitchen light came on in the front of your house, your nurse costume slowly being shed away from the uncomfortable feeling of it. Cooper felt his knuckles tighten around the steering wheel as he watched you, finding his perfect moment to slip out. Your back was pressed against the kitchen counter, looking out into the interior of your home versus outside. A gaggle of college girls dressed as nuns wandered by, causing Cooper to see his opening. Slipping out of his suburban, he put on the SWAT helmet, buckling it right under his chin as he kept his eyes forward, humming to himself to keep him sane. A small smile was present on his lips as the girls stopped for a moment, checking their map location to see if the party was the right way. None of them even acknowledged him as he walked past, keeping his eyes set on your home instead. Coming from the opposite way was a few frat guys dressed as priests, causing Cooper to roll his eyes at the on-the-nose couple outfits. The squeals the girls let out at the guys made his hair stand on end, reminding him too much of the Lady Raven concert last October. The last time he saw Riley, Logan…the last time he could be a dad.
Thinking about his kids made him grow tense, worried – it sucked being away from them, but this was for the best, for now. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how they were doing in school, he kept tabs from miles away. Cooper never wanted to stop being a dad, and he wasn’t going to start that anytime soon. Bringing his phone out of his vest pocket, he brought it up to his ear, mimicking a phone call as he rounded the fence you had up, standing on the left-hand side as he walked into your yard. Silently he thanked you for never replacing your camera out back, or the motion lights for that matter. Having it be this easy for him was a dream come true, plus with your neighbors away – others unable to see him creeping around back, there was no way he wasn’t going to see you now. He tucked his phone away into his pocket once more as your back porch came into view, the stairs on the left side flush to the door. That is when Cooper smirked to himself, chuckling low into the night – seeing the one thing you forgot to do, lock the back door.
In fact, it wasn’t even closed but cracked open the tiniest amount. As a former fire chief, he needed to know these things; If a seal was loose or not flush enough against the grain, it could invite oxygen in, make the fire rage on harder if the door were to be kicked in. Thankfully no fires would be breaking out at your place, not when he made sure they wouldn’t. That itch inside of him was starting to blister, his pupils dilating with the thought of creeping through your home. Cooper was so dead set on watching you tonight through your windows, that he didn’t even consider the option of going inside. With all the clunky gear on though – he was hesitant. He didn’t let that stop him from what he really wanted; You. As his back was crouched under your living room window, he used the edge of the flashlight on his belt to push your door open, the instant smell of nutmeg and cinnamon flooding his senses.
With every inch the door started to open, he grew cautious, knowing at any point he could push it open completely and be met with you. He didn’t think you’d run and tell anyone, that was a fact he was certain of. But he didn’t necessarily know if you’d fight back. A feisty little thing like you wouldn’t surprise him, everyone has their own demons they deal with. To Cooper, more or less he didn’t want to ruin the clean research he has done on you over the last year. When he saw you after escaping police custody that night, he knew you’d turn everything around for him. A giver, a lover, an angel on this Earth – you brought joy wherever you walked, and didn’t tell a soul about your own struggles. He wanted to take that away from you, claim your suffering so you could be happy. He would take everything away from you if it meant you would be happy, safe, and serene in your own life. He didn’t want you to know pain – only joy.
As the back door swung open enough to slide his body through, Cooper stood fully erect. The SWAT gear was a bit much trying to push through the gap, causing a creak to sound. Standing still half in and half out, Cooper pushed through the last bit with a grimace, hoping you didn’t dare to come around that corner. With the layout of your home, as soon as he entered through the back door, he was met with the foyer; Winter boots, coats, and scarves hung from the hook on the wall – the warm light flooding through his body. It caused him to feel nostalgic, those times in the late 80’s to early 90’s growing up; Halloween was such a magical time, full of bright colors and warm flavors, things were good – he could be a good boy if it meant the beatings would stop. “Fuck,” a low whimper came from the opposite side of the wall, causing Cooper to stop in his tracks. He was ever-so-slowly closing the back door, making sure no creaks or groans happened as it was shut, clicking over the lever lock, as well as the two deadbolts. The curtain pulled flush to the glass; No one would see a thing.
Another whimper flowed effortlessly through the air, circling around Cooper in whisps of gold and auburn. He felt his cheeks heating at the anticipation, his toes tingling with excitement. Placing a booted foot across the fresh carpet leading to the living room, Cooper let his head peak out from where he was standing, extending out the smallest of bits to catch a glimpse of you. What he had failed to realize was the position of the living room to the foyer; You could not see him from your position but, he could see you. The couch was pushed under the bay window in the living room, a plethora of plants sat in the sills spot. The arm of the couch was a few inches away from the wall to which he was creeping around, giving him the most beautiful picture he has ever seen. It crossed his mind for a brief moment to take a photo of you like this, but he did not want to break the image set forth. He was enraptured by you, a beautiful creature in a dull world.
On the couch you laid flat, one leg tossed up around the back of the couch whilst the other fell open against the coffee table. Your platform heels were still on your feet; The clean plastic leather heavy contrast with the red bottoms. The nurse’s dress you had on earlier for a costume was pulled up and pushed down around your midsection, baring your breasts for all to see. All the while your left-hand was delicately placed between your thighs, running up and down your slit with a squelch. Your right hand was cupping your breast, toying with your nipple, your entire body shivering from the feeling. “Yes,” breathlessly you moan into the open air, grinding your hips against your hand. The second the pads of your fingers make contact with your clit, you knew you were a goner. The softness of your fingers contrasting with the warmth of your cunt caused you to slip into your own mind, not aware at all of your surroundings; You liked it that way.
Cooper on the other hand couldn’t get enough of you, trying so hard to suppress a moan he threatened to let out. His cock jolted at the moans you were letting out, throbbing harshly behind his black jeans. All it would take is undoing his belt buckle the slightest of bits to relieve some of the pressure, and he couldn’t handle it anymore. Cooper’s eyes never left your face as he peered down at you, his tall stature making everything you were doing abundantly clear. Sneaking around the corner enough to hide his body from you, Cooper undid his belt as quietly as he could, tucking the buckle into his pocket to get it out of the way. A quick flick of his thumb caused his jeans to unbutton, and the zipper to fall down easily. A wave of cold sweats broke out around his body as his skin was to the open air, the breeze cutting through his black briefs.
His gloved hand slid down the front of his briefs, running the padded side down his erect cock. The friction was a delicious burn at first, but it was not going to hold him over. Snaking his fingers between his teeth, Cooper ripped the glove off as fast as he could, shoving his hand back into his underwear and releasing himself. When the heated, erect flesh of his cock met the cool air of your home, he whimpered. Not something he would ever consider himself to do but, you made him weak in the best way possible. His bare thumb pressed against the base of his cock, trying to steady himself. A small bead of cum was pooled at the head, glistening against the firelight. Hearing your scandalizing moans set Cooper on edge, causing him to twitch due to your sweet mewls. He knew he wasn’t going to last very long, a year without any type of contact with another person would do that. Cooper wrapped his thick fingers around the underside of his cock, squeezing in slow increments to get used to the feel again.
He was burning from the inside out, his body up in flames as he watched you – while touching himself. Slowly he slid his meaty hand up the full length of his shaft, pulsating his hand in short doses; He could feel his eyes rolling back at the relief. He never found pleasure in pleasuring himself – it felt like too much work when he could make someone else feel good with him. As his eyes laid upon you sprawled out, pleasuring yourself for anyone to see, he could understand why the self-indulgence of masturbating was intoxicating, why many loved it. For him he felt the tension of the last year start to flow away; Each stroke of his strong hand sent a cascade of pleasure down his spine. He could find himself drowning in it all if he wasn’t careful, but the recklessness in him wanted to paint your face.
Peering down at your half naked form, Cooper gained a steady pace on his cock, finding the right rhythm that worked for him. In tandem with the tight circles of your fingers, he found it erotic that the same ministrations were giving him pleasure as they were you. It felt like you two were connected, not physically but on another level. He could feel his cock stiffening at the thought, his tip a violent shade of purple from all the arousal. He needed to be closer to you, this distance was eating him alive. Cooper was never this careless, he never would’ve made himself known in a situation like this. The smell of your arousal and the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead caused the animal inside of him to peer out, the one that released from him seventeen years ago, the one that put him on the map as a brutal killer. It seemed to have climbed his ribcage, puncturing his lungs, spleen, kidneys as it rose. The feral monster within him gnawing at bone, sawing through muscle and tissue in order to rise higher. Primal grunts and groans were releasing out of Cooper at an alarming rate – he couldn’t hold back much longer. For his legs took him not where he wanted to be, but where he desperately needed. Directly. Over. You.
“C-Cooper!” You moaned out sweetly, bring him back into reality. Cooper’s eyes flared out of their momentary hypnosis to see what he was being met with. Instead of hiding behind the wall of your foyer, watching you touch yourself from afar – Cooper was hovering over your head by the arm of the couch. His glistening cock mere inches away from your face, his eyes as dark as the night. He was fucked out of his mind and you were loving every moment of it. The sight of him so feral, so taken with the sight of your arousal, it was enough to cause your climax to speed up. “Touch me,” you whimpered softly, bringing the hand that was on your breast up to swipe over the wet head of his cock. The cum spattered on your thumb with a simple flick, you did not hesitate to rub it against your bottom lip. Cooper wasn’t even phased that you knew his name, someone who you have never had any contact with, or knew of what he had done – he presumed. But that was just it – it was your job to know everyone in town. To know who your next victim could be.
Cooper’s gloved left-hand didn’t hesitate to grasp at your throat from behind, restricting the blood flow to your brain. The euphoric sensation of pressure building in your head caused your orgasm to crest – a bright burning life of warmth behind your eyes as your fingers worked double time. Your body shivered with each stroke; Long, languid moans seeping out like a broken waterpipe – the flood kept coming and you didn’t want it to end. Watching you get off on your own hand caused Cooper’s climax to ignite. With a few rough thrusts into his hand, Cooper felt his balls pull up into himself – ready to burst at the seams. The animalistic scream he managed to get out was strangled as he gripped at your throat harder, his cock pressed against your forehead. Simply looking up at him was enough to make him cum. You felt like he was mere moments away from ending you where you laid, but you knew he wouldn’t – couldn’t for that matter.
Your name left his lips in a mewl of passion as his cock met its end. A clean shot of his seed cascading down your chin, your breast, and to your clothed stomach. Every bit of cum he was letting out was enough to make you wet again; A man without the touch of a woman, or himself for that matter. Each thrust of himself into his own hand caused thicker shots to flow over your body – you weren’t going to stop him. Instead, you held out your tongue as he kept going, catching some of his salty seed in your mouth. With Cooper’s eyes screwed tightly shut, you brought your wet fingers up to his naked hand, running it along the protruding veins on the back of his hand. That was enough to wake him from his quiet slumber above you, feeling the pressure building harder within your head. As the last of his cum shot out across your tongue, Cooper let his hand around your neck relax, his eyes falling open. The sight below him was a masterpiece, one he wishes he could make last forever. His essence covering your body – a fucked out look on your face. This was his own personal heaven, and he never wanted to come down from it. Your gentle gaze met his blissful one, and he felt his heart stammer. Nothing in this world could compare to your beauty; Distance did not due you justice. As he stands above you, he got to see the real you – he couldn’t get over how gorgeous you truly are.
“Lovely to finally meet you, Mr. Adams,” you huffed with a laugh after swallowing his load, biting your lip as you slowly sat up. It broke Cooper out of his daydream, his cock soft against the waistband of his briefs – still a mouthful even when not erect. Standing at full attention, you glanced down at your body to see the aftermath – feeling a flush growing over your skin at the sight of being covered in him. You could tell it was affecting Cooper as he put his cock back into his briefs, the crotch on his jeans stiffening slightly. “You as well, Miss.” He managed to let out, chuckling as his eyes cascaded down your body. There was something dark within him that he was trying to push down; You didn’t like that. It’s what drew you to him those months ago, made you want to move to this town, to be close to him. You knew who Cooper Adams is, how he was stalking you. You played into every hand of his, wanting him to know you were the good in his world. You two could rule together, be the parents of evil – to let it out instead of holding it in. He is The Butcher, and you are The Baker.
“You’re so beautiful,” Cooper murmured, not wanting to seem out of the ordinary but he needed you to know. Your eyes glanced up over him in his SWAT outfit, feeling the slick between your legs growing once more. His broad shoulders looked so form fitted in the tactical vest. His thick thighs were highlighted by the rugged denim of his jeans. His large feet covered in beat up leather boots – he is the walking embodiment of sex, and you wanted to climb him. Feeling flattered at his words, you started to make your way over to him, watching how the black of his pupils cancelled out the auburn of his irises – showing that Cooper wasn’t fully in control, but the demon inside him was. A lump formed at the back of his throat as the post nut clarity set in, trying to find his words without making a mistake. “I thought you’d be afraid of me, if you knew who I was.” Cooper mumbled, keeping his eyes trained on your carpeted floor, feeling a flush rise upon his cheeks. You felt your lips pull up into a soft smile, showcasing your loving nature. Bringing a hand up to Cooper’s cheek, you gently caressed at the small stubble growing on his chin, his disheveled brown hair in his eyes. Your right hand came up to push the hair out of his face, giving you a good grasp on his locks as you raked your fingers through. Sliding down the back of his head, at the base of his neck you wrapped his hairs around your fingers, tugging at the root with precision. Looking up into his eyes, you let a sinister smirk fall to your lips, your lips a mere few centimeters off of his; “I fear no man.”
If Cooper was right about anything in this world, it was that you were his match. The Butcher and The Baker, wreaking havoc across Philadelphia.
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General Taglist: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica @minedofmoria
Cooper Adams Smut: @exhoism
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palajae · 2 months
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episode two. | park jay
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PAIRING ▸ host!jay x reader
GENRE ▸ ouran high school host club!au, high school! au, romance, fluff, angst, humor
WC ▸ 4.2k
SUMMARY ▸ host park jay: the cool and calculated type. as the vice president and brain of the en-host club, jay is more than quick and entertaining. you’ll never get bored with all the things he does and says—if you ever get the chance to meet him.
AKA episode two of the kiss, kiss, fall in love! series
AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of food?? toxic family issues (specifically daddy issues), not proofread
sorry for the wait but here is the second part! <3 also i swear i love jay and his father this was just for the plot okay don’t come for me 😭🙏
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EPISODE 2. The Job of the Class Top Student! 
you get up, making sure to push the chair back with a loud screech so that everyone could hear. you feel the eyes boring holes into your back. if anyone looked closely, they would notice how your eyes flickered across the room. searching—checking. 
but no one was, most were still on the first page of the exam and had six more pages to go. 
you keep a straight and composed face as you walk up to the teacher’s desk, inaudible whispers and shocked stares going in one ear and out the other. 
after all, who finishes the midterm with 50 minutes left? 
you don’t falter, you don’t let your mask slip. however that rule is excused when it comes to one person. your eyes fall on his hunched over silhouette, smirking just the slightest as he flips to the last page of the exam. 
you and park jay. park jay and you. the class’s designated number one and two ranked students. who was which was yet to be confirmed. 
everyone wondered who would end up on top. there must’ve been a rivalry, a game, a secret enemies to lovers? 
to you, it was anything but that. 
it was an offense—being compared to park jay. sure, he was brilliant. you could at least admit that. 
but he was also a member of the en-host club. the vice president, at that. 
you shivered in disgust the first time you found out that he co-founded the club along with lee heeseung. you would expect no less of him, but jay, seriously? 
what would his father think? 
you had no time for trivial stuff like acting as a host and pleasing those who weren’t worthy of your company. 
he wasted hours every day, every week, at and for that club. 
you didn’t understand. 
why was jay pretending to be someone he wasn’t? 
every time someone would mention his name, you would snort and turn your head to the side. 
“that player? don’t count yourself special or lucky. he just wants attention from anyone he can get it from.” 
you vowed to beat him. how could you ever lose to the host, park jay? 
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“how are you, mr. park?”
you bow gracefully, a practiced smile plastered on your face. 
you hated it—how jay was a splitting image of his father. you hated any and every reminder of him. 
and just like the two of you, your families were rivals. they had to have been, after all they both competed in the same industries and markets. 
it was only natural that jay’s father took a liking to you. the one who was as gifted as his son, if not better. 
the one who was diligent, compliant, and charismatic. you were the one raised properly. you didn’t make rash decisions that wasted your time and future. 
“good. i heard my son has been troubling you recently. in physics, was it?”
your smile tightens. “of course not, sir. i’m not sure if jay told you, but we recently received a group presentation. he got paired with the kang family’s son.”
when jay got put with the kid who barely paid attention in class, let alone showed up to class, you couldn’t hide your triumphant smile. 
he pats you on the back, “of course. you know i just say that as a joke.”
you pretend to laugh it off, bowing again before excusing yourself to the bathroom and taking your leave. 
when you reach the mirror, you stare at yourself. you looked aggravated, confused, lost. because you were. all because you knew what mr. park was implying. he thought the same as you—it’s why the two of you grew close.
were you really going to let mr. park’s son overtake you in a class? 
while you spent most of your time studying and working, his failure of a son who spent his time messing around had the same grades as you, if not better?
he was challenging you and your future. 
you despised park jay. 
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gasps and whispers of awe fill the room. you stand near the back, face unreadable. 
chapter 9 test scores: 
park jay - 99 
y/l/n y/n - 96
…..
yujin nudges your shoulder with a concerned look. “are you okay? i know you spent four hours cramming for that test…”
you don’t say anything and stalk off. 
your room gets the brunt force of your emotions. you rip, crumple up, and trash your notes. your binders and notebooks go flying as you shove and fling them onto the ground with as much strength as you can. 
it was a mess. you were a mess.
how did he do better than you? you know for a fact he didn’t study as much as you did. he didn’t waste hours and hours reviewing the material and practicing. how did he do it?
there must be a reason, you resolve. something must be going on in that host club. 
you vow to figure the truth about jay. 
“what do you think he does there? seduce the girls into giving him answers?”
ningning laughs, “don’t be ridiculous.”
she pauses, “unless…?”
you huff, rolling your eyes. “i need to find out. this isn’t right.”
“you really don’t. you know you’re kinda—what’s the word? obsessed.”
“with jay,” she adds, “do you like him or something?”
you point a finger harshly, accusatorily, at ningning. 
“you know how i feel. my mother and father won’t be pleased. let’s not forget about his father.”
she only laughs, reaching out to put down your hand as you groan in frustration. 
“you sound like draco malfoy, you���re so funny. but go ahead with your plan, i’m not stopping you.”
you rub your temples in frustration. “am i about to make a mistake? is this a bad idea?”
ningning only shakes her head like a parent chiding their kid, “oh, y/n. you know you don’t ever have bad ideas or make mistakes.”
anyways, she was wrong. 
the moment you walked—more like burst—into the en-host club, all eyes were on you. 
you were used to it, but not like this. not like everyone was seeing a ghost. your eyes flit around the room, studying the infamous place. the host club was surprisingly spacious and intricate. you supposed it wasn’t that bad of an area. 
“y/n,” heeseung is the first to greet you and extend out his hand. you almost glare at it. 
“certainly did not expect to see you here. a pleasant surprise nonetheless,” he adds after flinching at your icy gaze. heeseung was the one to turn jay—disillusion him and make your life that much more difficult. 
“have the rumors finally piqued your curiosity? who exactly-“
you hold out a hand to cut him off, “save it. i’m only here to speak to jay.” 
saying his name out left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. more whispers break out and you grit your teeth. 
heeseung’s eyes widen as jake appears with a grin. great, now you were starting to attract even more attention. 
“so you finally succumbed, huh?”
your eyes narrow. 
“to what, exactly?”
“you know, for being one of the brightest students in our grade, you can be quite dense sometimes.”
“and for being one of the most popular students in our grade, you can be quite pitiful sometimes, did you know that?”
“y/n.”
you bite back your next words at the appearance of the person of your request. jay sends a look to the other hosts, and they leave you two alone reluctantly. 
“what do you want?”
at first, you don’t say anything. 
when you don’t respond, his gaze hardens. “did my father send you?”
you ignore him. “i’m here to observe the club. and you.” 
you hold eye contact until jay finally breaks it and sighs, “fine. i could care less.” 
to your surprise, jay doesn’t say anything else. and in your awkwardness, you realize you have no choice but to follow him around or stand there like a loser. and you were anything but a loser. 
you didn’t know how this whole club thing really worked, anyway. 
you check the clock. how long would this take? how much time of yours would be wasted?
you can’t believe it. the fact that you wasted two hours or that jay was busily working, you’re not sure. probably both. 
all he did was sit down at one of the tables with his laptop. no words were exchanged when you sat stiffly across from him. it’s still a bit uncomfortable, being in this place with no purpose or goal other than to spy on jay (not to forget the girls absolutely shellshocked at your presence in the club.) 
he typed quite fast, you note by the sound of the keys clicking harshly. jay looked focused, significantly more than when he took chemistry quizzes. 
you attempt to sneakily glance at his screen. eventually, you get a crick in your neck and you sigh. 
“what are you doing?”
“running the statistics for the club’s activities this week,” he responds curtly. 
after about an hour, you frown. where were all the girls? where was his cheesy flirting and hosting that they all supposedly did?
there’s no way he was actually just that busy working?  
you walk off without another word. 
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“it doesn’t make any sense,” you furiously chew your salad, “i need to go back.”
“really?” ningning replies with an edge in her voice. 
you slam your fork down. “i-i mean, he stays there until five! that means he doesn’t arrive home for another thirty minutes and that reduces his study time to around five to six hours, considering dinner and washing up. then i have to take into account the fact that his bedtime must be around twelve since he has nonexistent eye bags—“
ningning stuffs a tomato into your mouth. 
“if this isn’t obsessed, i don’t know what is.”
you glare at her as you chew. “is not. being obsessed means you have to have interest in the person or subject.” 
ningning mutters something under her breath. 
somehow, your eyes fall on jay sitting with his host club friends. his arms are relaxed behind his head, as if he was purposely flaunting off to everyone in the room. you want to slap the tinted glasses he wore, you could barely see his eyes. you never knew what he was thinking. 
you curse jay internally. 
ningning gets up. “anyways, i’ll see you in calculus later.”
you come to your senses again, nodding at her. “let me know if you need any more help on the problem set.”
she grins, patting your head. 
“thanks, good luck getting his attention.” 
“whose?” you call out but she’s already gone, leaving you to ponder your own thoughts. 
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the sound of silverware scraping the plates makes you cringe. besides that, there was complete silence in the dining hall. 
you knew what was coming. 
“i heard jay scored the highest on the last physics exam.” 
you look down. “yes, father.”
you were used to it. 
“how long did you prepare for it? i thought i raised you properly,” his cold voice never failed to put a shiver down your spine. 
“i’m sorry. i’ll do better next time…” you barely manage to get out. 
you pray he’s finished. 
“i heard he barely studied. spends all his time at that horrid club, yet he scored better. interesting.”
you wipe your mouth before standing up. “i’m going to finish my homework. i promise i’ll work harder, father.”
you leave the table with clenched fists. every freaking time. 
you want to punch the wall, scream and kick. it wasn’t fair. you gave your all to make your parents proud, and it was never enough. when would you be enough for them? 
you told yourself every time, that you weren’t affected. it didn’t matter.
yet it still hurt. 
you’re on autopilot the entire day at school. you’re in and out, brain fuzzy. indeed, those were the consequences of a sleepless, turning and tossing kind of night.
“-y/n?” 
you swear, it was so bad you could literally hear your parent’s disappointed voices in your ear. 
“y/n!”
you jolt up in your seat, accidentally knocking a pencil off your desk. your professor eyes you along with the rest of your classmates. along with jay. 
it wasn’t like you to zone out. 
“i’m sorry,” you stammer. “could you repeat the question?”
“i didn’t ask a question,” they raise an eyebrow, making you look down in embarrassment. 
“are you alright? do you need to go to the nurse?”
you decline and apologize hastily, straightening your posture and grabbing your pencil off the floor. your teacher resumes their lecture and you hate how you can still feel jay’s eyes linger on you. 
when class is dismissed, you’re packing up your last notes when you feel eyes on you, once again. it was just you two left in the room.
you already know who it is.
“that wasn’t like you.”
“i know. i don’t need your fake concern,” you spit out. 
his eyes widen as you stand up and shove past him. 
“hey-“
you stop in your tracks, turning around to face jay—the root of all your issues. 
“are you happy now? seeing me like this? you embarrassed me, you won. there’s no need to pretend you care when it’s obvious you don’t. can you even?” 
he isn’t able to get in a single word in as you stalk out. 
by the end of your last class, you hate to admit it, but you’re actually regretting your words. you constantly replay that last moment in class, when you actually saw an ounce of emotion on jay’s otherwise stoic face. when it actually seemed like he got hurt by your words. it couldn’t be, though. 
jay didn’t show his emotion. he didn’t care, unlike you. no matter how much his father compared the two of you, jay did what he wanted and he did it well. 
while you hated to see that you were the weak—the jealous one.  
you didn’t mean to take your anger out on him—you knew jay would never intentionally beat you. 
you would. you were the one who needed the validation, and therefore, you had to do your best. you had to be the best in order to beat jay. and yet, you find yourself in another moment of weakness. 
standing in front of the music room, you sigh. here you were once again. when you walk in, you head straight for heeseung.
he’s sitting rather comfortably, cozying up to two random students you’ve never seen before. 
when you clear your throat, heeseung sits up as his eyes widen at the sight of you. “y/n?” 
“i need to speak with jay,” you can’t seem to look him in the eyes. 
“again?” he smirks. 
you exhale slowly, trying your best to keep your cool. “please. it’s urgent.” 
and suddenly, you’re standing in front of him. your hands clasped together, eyes downcast. 
at first, no words are exchanged. you know jay—he won’t be the first to say anything. it takes a minute for you to collect your thoughts. to finally let it sink in that you were here, in this situation, in front of him. 
“i… i didnt mean what i said.” 
“earlier,” you quickly add.
you take a quick glance, only to see the same emotionless expression he always wore. 
“alright.”
you swallow. he stands there. 
jay proceeds to push his glasses further up his nosebridge , “if that’s all, then, i’m a bit busy.”
“r-right. yeah.” 
your eyes follow his back as he begins to walk off. 
“wait! wait.” 
he slows, but doesn’t turn around. 
you scrunch your face up, cringing. “can i-just like, stay? for a moment?”
jay being jay only shrugs. 
and for the second time, you find yourself sitting across from jay. again, he’s simply typing away on his computer. 
no flirting or messing around with the guests. 
your curious eyes wander around the giant room. if you weren’t in the position you were in, born into, maybe you would’ve come here. 
your eyes fall back on jay. maybe you would’ve requested him. his looks weren’t that bad, and when he wasn’t talking school-
you clap a hand over your mouth, horrified at the thought. jay looks at you from over his screen, but his fingers never stop moving. 
you shake your head, as if to physically remove the thought from your head. 
“so… uh, what are you doing?”
“club work. finances, promotion, sponsors. basically everything behind the scenes.”
your eyes squint, “then how are you the vice president?”
he sighs as if he’s used to the question, “beats me.”
“then, you’re not a host? every time i’ve been here, you haven’t done anything host-like.”
“the two times you’ve been here,” he corrects and you roll your eyes. 
“it’s because you’re here.”
“what?”
“you scare off my usual clients, so i cannot host,” he states as a matter of factly. 
your mouth forms a “o,” but you soon cock your head at him. 
“why would i scare off your clients, though?”
his cold eyes glint up at you. “i think that’s a question to ask yourself.”
you stifle a groan. 
“either way, i don’t have many requests since i’m usually busy keeping the club alive.”
you knew it wasn’t true. there were plenty of girls who whispered about him in the halls and glared at you. not that they would ever do anything—you knew they were rightfully scared of you. 
“you’re saying that you’re not popular then.”
“if that’s what you want to think, then sure.”
“and yet, i’m here.” you cough awkwardly. 
“but you are not here for the same reasons,” 
jay stops typing abruptly. he looks at you, and you start spluttering at his implication. 
“there is no way i would ever waste my time here to-for you-“
“yet you’re still sitting right in front of me,” he smirks, “you said what you had to say earlier, no?” 
curse him for being your one weakness. there was no one who could beat you in an argument except park jay. he was so infuriating. 
you slam your hands on the table, “yes. thank you so much for the reminder. but don’t you dare think i’ll go easy on you after today.”
you turn your nose up before leaving. you hated how he always got your heart rate up, palms sweaty and knees weak. jay always riled you up, it was just because of how infuriating he was.
that was the only reason, right?
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ningning smoothly slides into the seat next to you, “i heard you went back to the host club?”
your eyes widen. 
“just admit it, you like jay. you realized all the feelings you felt about him were actually, in fact, for him. no need to be embarrassed, everyone else already knows,” she teases. 
you choke but attempt to cover it up with a small ahem, straightening your back. 
“i don’t know what you’re talking about. i only went there because of my curiosity. you know the saying: keep your friends close and enemies closer? yeah, i’m just sizing up my opponent.” 
she sighs, patting you on the head. 
“it’s alright to spend time with jay, you know. you and your families have known each other for a while. plus, you guys are literally the same person—just in different bodies.” 
although she didn’t mean it in that way, you begin to realize she’s right. 
you and jay are a lot more alike than you realize. same overbearing parents putting immense amounts of pressure on the two of you. if anything, you should have been friends—not enemies. 
who were you trying to protect yourself against? jay?
or your families who caused this whole mess in the first place? 
you suddenly get out of your chair, leaving ningning to stare at you. 
“where are you going? study hall isn’t over for another hour!”
“i…i have to go somewhere.” 
“and skip studying? what has possessed you, y/n?” she says incredulously. 
as you run off, you silently agree with her.
your feet lead the way, automatically taking you to the place you need to be without even realizing it. 
you open the doors rather harshly, stomping over to the familiar table. you already knew he would be here. he always was here if he wasn’t in class. 
jay sits there, and to your surprise, he’s strict and gazing out the large tinted glass windows. as you approach him, he pushes the bridge of his glasses up, looking at you with inquisitive eyes.
“how do you do it?”
he blinks at the question. 
“pardon?”
“how? how do you not care?” you almost demand him to answer, feeling all the pent up frustrations bubble up to the surface.  
“about your family, your duty, about everything!?”
you’re almost panting, glaring at him with glassy eyes. you needed to know. 
“it just doesn’t make sense. we’re in the same boat, yet you don’t care and you don’t seem affected. after everything that has happened, how can you feel so normal? how can you pretend like everything’s going to be okay?” your voice cracks.
to your surprise, jay sighs. he quietly gets up and looks up at you. clearly, like it’s the first time you’ve ever looked in his eyes. they draw you in, an endless void of darkness. 
you can finally feel the tension in the air. you finally notice that the two of you are alone. 
“if anything, i used to care more than you. i was worse off than you. it wasn’t always easy. it still isn’t.” 
you cross your arms. 
“you’re not lonely? stressed? is that why you decided to join the host club?” 
“i just decided to. i decided that i won’t let them dictate all parts my life. i chose to do this along with heeseung. he showed me a different world, a new path to life. not everything has to be for your own future benefit and success.” 
you look down. the sight of your own clenched fists surprises you. 
you know jay. you’ve known jay, for a long time. you’ve seen how he used to be. what an arrogant and selfish know-it-all he was. then, he changed. he became a host and suddenly, he was having fun with friends and doing everything he could for the club and them. 
but, you were in different positions. he fought back against his parents for his life, while you couldn’t even imagine coming close. why did you think you could come to him? 
“then… we’re not as similar as i thought we were. nevermind any of it.”
as you turn away, jay speaks up again. 
“you think you’re selfish. spoiled and special, perhaps.” 
you stop. 
“but you give tutoring to those who need it. and it’s not just for your reputation and the hours because you do it outside of school. you’re friends with ningning but she’s the second daughter, set to inherit nothing. you secretly give your packed lunch to the one person in our class who can’t always afford it.”
you quietly gasp. 
“i know. because you’re just like me.” 
you stand there, silently debating before walking out.
there were too many emotions. how did he know? how long has he known—noticed all those things about you? 
worst of all, it feels like you’ve reached a deeper level, a mutual understanding, in your relationship with park jay. 
whatever relationship you both even had. 
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people are more than shocked to see the sight in front of them. this type of news—gossip—would reach the headmaster in a day or two. but those fan girls filled with jealousy would never do anything about it in fear of getting on your or jay’s bad side. 
park jay, helping y/n organize notes before class? 
y/n y/l/n, showing up to the host club on a weekly basis to sit with jay? 
and if your parents had anything to say, you turned the other way and pretended not to have heard. 
no one understood, like there was a silent understanding between just the two of you. 
jay scoots over, almost as if he was saving you the seat. almost like the seat was yours, it always had belonged to you. your heart warms at the thought. 
“our families are having another dinner.”
“i know. probably to discuss our futures, don’t you think?” 
you hum, passing him a honey citron drink and he gratefully accepts it without a word. for a minute you both enjoy the drinks in peace.
“maybe. probably. your mother was the one to invite us over, you tell me.” 
“i suspect to talk about the latest business affairs. then our grades.”
“oh goodness me,” you sigh and jay can’t help but genuinely smile. you liked the fact that you were one of the only people who could do that.  
“at least i’ll have you—or we’ll have each other,” he remarks rather normally, but the fidgeting of his hands with his pen tells you otherwise. 
you glance up at him, face warming slightly. he was right, though. it was a hard fact to get adjusted to. you did have someone else now. 
of all people, jay. he was the person you least expected, and yet… the only person you knew it could be. 
and maybe, you guys could heal together. you scoot your chair a bit closer to his, leaning to look at his screen. he doesn’t seem to mind at all. 
you knew you could and would heal together. 
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undertheorangetree · 1 year
Text
Urgency
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Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Warnings: MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Possessive/jealous sex. Against a wall lmao. Vaginal fingering. Mild exhibitionism. Reader is purposely riling him up. He calls her a whore but in a fun way.
Author’s Note: You can find the full fic on AO3 the link is below plz feel free to let me know what you think :))
The queen had spared no expense on her son’s nameday, that much is clear the moment she walks into the hall. Perhaps Prince Aegon had been involved in his own party planning as well, as there are flagons upon flagons of wine, ale, cider, and even a few vials of absinthe lining the walls of the great hall alongside all the mountains of food. It is the first party that she has experienced since marrying Prince Aemond six moons passed and she doubts she will ever see anything so extravagant ever again. She does not think even her wedding compared to this, with all the finery and gold and jewels that seem to be everywhere her turns.
She too had done her best to dress up for the occasion. She had been gifted a beautiful Lysene gown two moons ago, a pretty blue thing made of silk and chiffon, full of layers and very low cut. It showed off far more of her breast than she is used to and is too thin to wear a shift beneath. She had been unsure about it at first but now that she stood amongst all the lords and ladies of the court, she feels as though she fits right in. And besides, she has other plans for this gown besides simple fashion.
Her husband has been ignoring her. She does not know if he truly noticed it himself, but she had seen little and less of him these past few weeks. Running countless errands with the excuse of duty, squeezing in training and dragonriding whenever he is given space enough to breath. She thinks she has only really seen him when he collapses in their bed at night, pressing a tired kiss to her cheek before falling asleep just as his head hits the pillow. There has been no time allotted for her and though she does not blame him for it- she had noticed rather quickly that he has a tendency to be very one track minded- she will not allow for it to stand any longer.
So she had decided to wear her new blue dress to show him just what he has been missing out on. To remind him that his wife is young and beautiful and here and needed more from him than a half mumbled goodnight.
And, much to her delight, he seems to notice immediately. She watches elated as his eye widens almost comically at her approach, roving over her as if he can’t quite believe that she’s real. It is not difficult to ignore him as he has her, instead making her way to stand before Aegon. She wishes him a happy nameday, endures the drunken, lazy smile he gives her as he assures her it is a very happy day indeed, before skirting around the table to sit by Aemond’s side. She does not deign to look at him, staring straight ahead at the crowd before them, and lets out a heavy sigh. His eye had been boring into the side of her face but it darts down then, watches as her breasts rise and fall with her breath, and she suppresses the urge to look too smug.
Aemond has always been good at keeping himself composed and so she expected him to have more resolve, to sit and stare for only the Gods know how long while he quietly seethed. So she is almost surprised when she feels his hand close around the back of her chair, leaning in close only a few moments after she has sat down.
“What are you wearing?” he manages to ask, grit out between clenched teeth.
She smiles, doing what she can to seem oblivious as she turns to look at him, head tilted. “Do you like it? I wasn’t sure which one to wear but my maid and I narrowed it down to this and the purple dress from Qarth. Do you remember it? Should I have worn that one instead?”
The question is rhetorical, as he knows very well which dress she is talking about. An ambassador from the Free Cities had arrived with a whole host of gifts for the royal family, including two massive crates filled with dresses for herself and Helaena. The pretty Lysene dress she wore now had been among them, along with gowns from Bravvos, Meereen, Essos, and the like. She had forced Aemond to sit and watch as she tried them all on, the latest fashions from all over the eastern world. The purple Qartheen dress had been particularly memorable to him as there was only enough fabric in the bodice to cover one breast, the other bared entirely. He had deemed the show over at that point and had fucked her against the wall to show his appreciation for the gown.
She bites her lip to suppress a grin when his face flushes red at the memory, his knuckles gone white around the knife’s handle in his hand. She swears she can hear the wood creak under his grip on her seat as well and doesn’t think she would be surprised if it cracked under his hand.
Her head cocks in the opposite direction as she hums, wordless encouragement to answer her previous question, but she isn’t entirely sure he is listening to her anymore. His eye has darted down again, tracing along the lines of her gown and she indulges him, pushing her chest out a little farther. It is almost funny, how she has reduced him to this. He almost reminds her of Aegon in this moment, a comparison she knows he would loathe. And though it is unkind and she knows that she should keep her torture confined to this alone, she want to see how far she can push him. It has been weeks-three, to be exact- since they had an intimate moment alone together and her patience for abstinence has worn thin. If this is her moment to ensure that her husband’s attention is on her entirely, then she is going to leap at it.
She does not have to wait long for her first opportunity to present itself. Lord Erwin Lannister, some second or third cousin off the main branch of the family tree, has come forward to offer good tidings and the moment he is done with Aegon, he sets his sights on her. Despite the fact that Aemond is practically limp across her lap, little Lord Lannister approaches with his head held high, offering them both a polite bow. The way he takes in her gown, however, is anything but polite, eyes hungry as he stares.
“My lady, it would be an honour to have your first dance of the evening, if you would indulge me.”
Aemond’s mouth twists immediately. “I would think that honour should go to the lady’s husband, should it not?”
The confidence Lord Erwin had arrived with falters at her husband’s tone, but she is not about to allow this opportunity to pass her by. Not without putting up some kind of fight.
“But you’ve been so busy, my love,” she laments, pressing a loving hand to his chest. “You should rest. I’m sure my Lord Lannister would be more than happy to dance with me, would you not, my lord?”
“Of course, my lady,” Lord Erwin agrees, likely far faster than he should have.
She graces the young lord with a smile before turning to press a kiss to Aemond’s cheek. She flits away quickly, standing and joining Lord Erwin on the floor. It takes everything in her not to look back at him, not to revel in the way he is surely seething at the loss of her attention.
Luck continues to be on her side, as the dance the musicians are playing requires her to stand quite close to Lord Erwin. The dance is one she knows well, so she does not need to think as she follows the steps. Instead, she dares to glance toward Aemond as she dances around the young lord, hardly paying him any mind as she watches her husband. She does not think Lord Erwin minds, as he is staring at her chest so single mindedly she does not think he would hear her should she speak to him. Aemond’s gaze is even more intense. His eye is trained on her as if he cannot bare to turn away, his mouth twisted and face drawn in a way she can’t quite describe. She recognizes the rage in his eye when it shifts from her to Lord Erwin, face hardening further, and she turns to face her partner.
“Are you enjoying the fete, my lord?” She asks, keeping her voice low so that there is no risk of Aemond hearing.
Despite his initial confidence, he looks almost shocked that she is speaking to him now and has to take a moment before responding, likely trying to decipher what it is she has just said. “Yes, my lady. Are you?”
She presses a little closer to him as the dance requires, eyes darting up to catch sight of Aemond and his clenched jaw before she turns back to the young lord and smiles. “Oh, yes. I am enjoying it immensely.”
She dances four more dances with separate partners before Lord Erwin returns, his confidence returning now that he believes Aemond will not be storming in to throw him aside. And Aemond does not turn away from her the entire time, his eye boring into her so fiercely she thinks it would cause anyone else to shy away. But not her. Instead, it takes everything in her to keep her smirk at bay, chest light as pride bursts through her.
“If I may be so bold, my lady, you look particularly beautiful this evening. Is this a new dress?” Lord Erwin asks, eyes once again locked on her chest.
“It is, my lord. Thank you. It is my husband’s favourite, I think.”
Though Lord Erwin opens his mouth to respond, a voice cuts him off before he can, a rough hand clasping around her elbow. “We’re going to retire for the evening.”
Lord Erwin is forgotten immediately as she turns toward her husband, smiling politely. “We have barely been here an hour, husband. Surely it is poor manners to leave so soon.”
“We’re leaving,” he repeats, much more stern this time.
Read the rest here :)
759 notes · View notes
formosusiniquis · 3 months
Text
find your Suzie
Written for Day 2 of @stevieweek Gender Euphoria with bonus prompts t4t and Scoops. Coincidentally also hitting Day 5 of @steddie-week with Reunion/Getting back together lucky me!
Stevie Harrington/Eddie Munson WC: 7679 | T | No Archive Warnings Apply | CW: Features Eddie using the word tranny to refer to himself | Tags/Themes: Transfem Steve Harrington; Transmasc Eddie Munson; Steve & Robin Best Friends Forever; Steve and Dustin have a sibling relationship; Childhood Friends to Strangers to Lovers; Small Town 80s typical discussions of gender
AO3
It’s been a long summer. 
That’s probably the least of what can be said about the month Steve has been working at Scoops. He has a coworker that hates him, the emotion he’s sure of the reason not so much. The kids only want to see him when he’s either giving them something or letting them in the back to sneak through to the movies. And his favorite kid isn’t even here.
Wasn’t even here.
It’s finally the week Dustin is supposed to be back from camp. And it’s not like Steve expects to be the first stop on the welcome back tour, Dust had sent a letter from camp -- surprising when he told Steve before he even left not to expect anything. Camp Know Where was the kind of camp, “that demanded your full attention the entire time you’re there, Steve.” Except when the counselors are requiring you to send one letter a week to the homestead so there’s no parents worried about dead kids or something.
That hadn’t been something anyone was afraid of when Steve went to camp. But he also didn’t have parents who cared if he went missing. If Mrs. Voorhees went nutso on his summer camp they would probably have just liked having the excuse to sue. Everything is a money making opportunity.
But Dustin’s Mom liked him, and Steve knew Mrs. Henderson would want first dibs on smothering her precious son with all of the attention that she hadn’t been able to give him in his month away. Then there was supposed to be some big Doorknobs and Dipsticks thing -- a name he was going to have to remember to repeat in front of Dustin just so Steve could appreciate the way it’ll make him groan.
Then after all that there will probably be time for Steve and Dustin time.
Which is only serving to make the day stretch longer. Because that’s the kind of summer it’s been.
After a month, it’s probably safe to say that nothing is really going to make this summer feel like a success. Something that he knew he was going to be able to say from the moment they handed him the uniform that it was going to be a miserable time. It was square and boxy, the ascot so long that the little red tie hung at his bellybutton. The shorts are okay, well they became okay after a trip through the dryer on the wrong setting changed them from baggy and saggy into something that cupped his ass and displayed a work safe amount of thigh.
He doesn’t even want to talk about the hat.
There’s a voice in his head that gets a little louder, a little more insistent with each shift as he puts on the uniform. There are only so many more things he can do while staring at his reflection in the mirror to make it shut up.
An end of the year haircut turned into highlights, when the thought of losing any of the length he’d been steadily growing out made him feel the same way getting called Little Guy used to make him feel. Which turned into figuring out the perfect way to get the blowout style waves in under twenty minutes, because he wasn’t spending more than that on hair that was going to get hidden under a stupid hat that was just going to push it back and make his forehead look weird. Which turned into noticing that his forehead looked weird so the things below the forehead had to look better so that no one would notice when the hat was on. The brown mascara had probably been Mom’s but could have been Nancy’s or possibly Carol’s, but either way it was sitting in the drawer of the third bathroom he looked in -- Steve knew it was there the whole time, it rolls in the drawer everytime he opens it looking for the nail clippers and every time it did he looks at it the way he thinks people who haven’t seen monsters probably look at snakes.
And the mascara was good. Gave him big, doe eyes that he liked watching in the mirror as the girl in there swayed this way and that, making sure the blonde highlights didn’t need to be toned to keep from going too brassy.
Only after a little while that stopped working too, and the mascara turned into a two step routine. Lipgloss, chapstick really, toned because it tasted like cherries.
And that was enough to feel like normal, for a little while longer. But the itch was there, a mosquito bite Steve wouldn’t stop itching until the skin was picked open.
But it was just loneliness. He’s always been like this. Left alone for too long without someone to distract him and he’s prone to spiraling. 
The summer right before freshman year when Tommy and Carol both got grounded for a month for getting caught at the quarry drinking, he spent hours alone in his room wondering what life would have been like if he’d been born as a girl instead. Thanksgiving Break ‘84, without a girlfriend and his parents in Toronto or Cabo or Ohio, he sat alone in the living room with the curtains drawn as Some Like it Hot played on the TV. With a blanket pulled around his shoulders, he watched Daphne more than any of the others. Wondering if he could ever go back to being Jerry now that he’d gotten to experience being other. By then he could quote along with the movie by heart, he had seen it so many times he could practically play it in his head when someone else had it rented. He flopped down on the sofa in time with Daphne, spoke aloud into the empty house with her, “I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I wish I were dead.”
Now, in the middle of the worst summer of his life. He’s had the movie out so long he thinks it would be less embarrassing to just never go back to Family Video ever again. It’s been so long since his parents have been home or looked at the entertainment center he probably could have bought his own copy. He plays it every night until he wakes up to the static of the television. Still it’s not enough to keep him from laying in bed wondering about the girl who first told him to watch it and what she would think about what he is and isn’t now.
But Dustin is coming home and maybe he’ll bring the Steve Harrington he’s supposed to be in a suitcase or something.
The next day the blue of his uniform washes him out. That’s the reason he comes up with to rub a little bit of the pink Avon blush he found abandoned at the back of his Mom's vanity. A thumb rubbed gently through it, picking up just enough of the color that it shimmers on the pad of the finger. He rubs it into the round of his cheek. Swiping and rubbing at each one until it's impossible to tell if any of the color is still there or if it's just from his touching that's left them cheery and pink. The blush, the lipgloss, the mascara, the hair. Steve feels something like happy at the reflection in the mirror. Everything settling less like the costume he put on everyday since the middle of senior year.
Then Dustin gets home, and he's found a top secret Russian code. 
They never would have made Jill or Kelly or Agent 99 wear a stupid fucking uniform like Steve's. But no one looks at him more than twice as he scurries around the mall with Dustin like the Moneypenny to the kid’s Bond or whatever.
He wouldn't hate it if the alt guy with the ratted out hair and vest browsing in the record store or the jazzercise guy looked a couple extra times.
Dustin stays at the mall for the rest of the day, hanging out in the back working on the code. In between customers Steve does what he can to help. Mostly that looks like trying to run interference with Robin. Her antagonism seems a little friendlier lately, but with her fun stolen now that Dustin was back -- and more important than trying to land a date he cared less about than sating the loneliness -- he could tell she was watching. When the mall is closed he walks Dust out the employee hallway, his bike shares the rack with Robin’s, the only two left even with cars still dotting the lot. He offers like every shift to give her a lift home.
“Like my bike would even fit in the trunk next to kid genius,” she says as she kicks off. Dustin unusually silent beside him. “I’ll catch you tomorrow, Harrington.”
The kid brother that forcibly adopted him stays quiet the entire time Steve is loading his bike into the back. But worry doesn’t set in until they’re pulling out of the parking lot and he still hasn’t said a word.
“So other than the girlfriend-”
“There’s really nothing going on between you and Robin?” Dustin interrupts, something steely but unsure on his face. “And don’t just say the same stuff about her being a nerd. You exclusively hang out with nerds. You obviously aren’t still holding on to that high school stuff anymore.”
He doesn’t know if it is that obvious, but even as he consciously setting that thought aside; the thought of dating Robin, taking her out and showing her off and possibly getting so far as intimacy, it feels weird. The kind of weird that thinking about dating Carol felt like, a half step in the direction of wrongness.
“Even if she didn’t totally hate me, dude, that’d be like if I asked you about dating El or Max.”
Belatedly, he remembers Dustin did have a capital T Thing for their random girl. But the comparison carries the correct weight.
“You have to find your Suzie then, man.”
It's hard to bite back the hysterical laugh, the thought that they'd rather be someone's Suzie. It's easier to push the twerp off than to touch that sticky, raw scab they couldn't stop picking. Still something about being in the car, the comfort of having their favorite kid back makes it feel safe to talk about a girl they’ve never stopped thinking about.
“I already met my Suzie,” a laugh makes it out before Steve can even think to stop it. “Literally Susan M. Even met her at summer camp, she called herself my boy named Sue.” Smiling out the windshield, they think back to that summer. It hadn’t been a reference they’d understood as a kid, not until Sue had made the joke again too close to one of the counselors. At home Steve had made Mom go get the album the song was on. They played it so many times they could find the track on the record without even looking.
“She called me her sweet Stevie,” they finish. It’s something they haven’t said to anyone.
That uncharacteristic quiet is back. Dustin looking at them; but with the softest parts of themself turned over, half exposed in a way even they haven’t looked at before, Stevie doesn’t look back. Just keeps driving the familiar path to the Henderson house.
“What happened?” Dustin asks, softer than they think they’ve ever heard his voice.
Maybe bringing up the lost summer camp love to a recent summer camp boyfriend wasn’t as smart as they thought.
“Tried to write but I guess they moved. People do that sometimes, I guess, send kids to camp so they’re out of the way during the move. Letter came back return to sender and she wasn’t at camp the next year.” They weren’t back the year after, determined old enough at 12 to stay home alone during the summer.
“Maybe you’ll find her again. If she was really your Suzie.”
“Maybe,” Stevie says. It’s easier than digging any deeper.
Later it won’t feel so much like digging when they’re sitting in the bathroom high.
Stevie feels like floating away, like underneath the skin it’s all bubbles. They’re there lifting up everything: the mood, smiles, secrets.
When Robin asks, “Have you ever been in love?”
It feels easy, for once, to bring up Nancy. It feels just as easy to say, “I think I met the love of my life when I was 10 years old and it was a girl who acted like a boy and treated me like a girl. Do you think that's like a sex thing and I'm just now realizing it?”
“I had a crush on Tammy Thompson and she liked you, that’s why I hated you.”
“Oh.”
“Oh.”
The moment feels loaded. Bubbles popping in the air. Stevie doubts that’s what an OD feels like.
“Tammy’s such a dud.”
“What and you think I should have had a thing for a girl like you?”
Bubbles again, bright and fast and fizzy like a shaken up coke. Exciting, explosive.
“Yeah, well, at least I can sing.”
Dustin and Erica interrupt karaoke but Stevie can feel something solid setting into place beneath the foamed up feelings.
It turns out being an adult and not having to go to school leaves you with a lot of time to kill. 
Being reported as the hero of Starcourt who pulled a bunch of kids and a coworker out of a burning building bought another year of living rent free in the Harrington house. That and the passionate bond with the female coworker who was still in high school. It was easy to make promises that neither of them planned to keep while on the phone with her parents. Lies laced with truth, the two of them would be leaving for whatever city Robin picked for college with every intention to stay bonded for life. That was good enough for Dick and Diane to look the other way for another year.
So with time and money to kill Stevie spent the hours Robin was in school looking for the kind of secret bookstores that Robin’s heard about. The ones with zines and pamphlets about people like them.
And they learn and they change. And she's chasing that feeling she felt in that dingy mall bathroom where her best friend called her a girl. She’s a girl, she’s a girl, she’s a girl. She sometimes feels like she’s Daphne at the end of the movie. Shaky and a few wrong sentences away from pulling off her wing and throwing in the towel.
And Eddie Munson is stealing her goddamn kids.
That’s a separate part of her new life. Not that it’s any less frustrating. She’s figuring out how to be her own person in a way that’s not gonna get her killed, and she has to compete for attention with the king authentic.
“If you’d just meet him,” she’s barely listening to Dustin’s insistences. She’s heard them all before and Keith is lurking somewhere in the store waiting for her to slip up.
“I don't want to meet your Geek Mother.”
“It’s Dungeon Master,” Dustin tails her around like a second shadow. “And I think you would actually have a lot in common if you’d just talk.”
“That there’s something wrong enough with both of us that we want to spend our free time with you gremlins?”
“Ha. No. You both like those shitty, pulp, horror novels, you both like cars, you both have a secret love of Johnny Cash.”
“Oh yeah, a real recipe for best friendship.” She rolls her eyes into the cover of Flashdance, somehow he feels like Alex will be more receptive than her brother. “I’ve got Robin, I’m not really interested in any more friends right now.”
“Okay, well, he’s kinda meeting me here so.”
“What? Dustin!”
The bell above the door tongs, Stevie glares daggers and nailbats at Dustin while she shouts out the required, “Welcome to Family Video.”
The sound of metal hitting something solid carries over the sound of Oxford Blues. Normally it’s the sound of feet shuffling on the carpet that gives her the chance to make sure she’s the right amount of everything. Surviving this slow paced transition on the virtue of already being known around town as a pretty boy, as long as she keeps the right amount of butch it’s fine. At least Molly Ringwald and Ally Sheedy keep their hair short. She’s taken them on as hair icons until she’s in a place where she can grow it out long like Farrah or Brooke Shields.
A place where hopefully she’ll be able to add the occasional skirt to her wardrobe. She adjusts the rise on her jeans, she’s got no idea where Munson is. It’s hard to track the slap of his chain in the store the way she can dragging footsteps. Tugging at the belt loops of her pants, the ones she got from the women’s side of the thrift store, she feels like it’s obvious from the cut they’re different. Swears they hug her differently.
She doesn’t know if she wants Munson to be able to tell, but he’s coming around the bend from the Romance section and she can’t really do anything about it.
“Henderson,” Munson greets even though his eyes are locked hard onto Stevie. It’s been a quiet day, maybe she left one of those butterfly clips El gave her in her hair.
“Eddie! Did you grab the movie you said you were gonna show me?”
“Where’s the fire, Henderson?” He has a nice voice. Pitched in a nice warm tone it has a husk  she thinks she can feel. Gives her goosebumps. It’s not that she didn’t know that already, or maybe she didn’t, in all the ranting and screaming he did at school she thinks she remembers it higher. Cracking even as late as his junior year.
He’s looking at her again, something molten and complicated in his eyes, “Why don’t you officially introduce me to your favorite babysitter.”
Dustin sighs, full bodied and dramatic. “You went to school together, do I really need to?”
“No manners in these kids these days,” Eddie jokes. “You are not the same person I went to English third period with.”
Something bubbles up in the pit of her stomach, a little bit fear and a little bit joy at being recognized as something different. “That could be because you were barely ever in third period English.”
“Touche. And in that case it's all the sweeter to meet the fabled Stevie.” He grabs her hand by the tips of her fingers, sweeps his other arm out as he bows and presses a kiss to the little gold ring Robin gave her. She’s surprised by the sound of her own giggle.
“Can we be done with what’s happening here?” Dustin interrupts the fireworks happening in the back of her brain like a mindflayer on the Fourth of July.
“You were the one that wanted us to meet,” she reminds him.
“And I immediately regret it now that it’s happening. I need better impulse control, you and Ma were right.”
“Really are the best babysitter in the world, humility out of Henderson is like getting blood out of stone,” Eddie teases.
“You were coming out of Romance, what is this favorite movie you were going to show me?” Dustin demands now, a pink flush to his face like they’ve succeeded in embarrassing him too.
“I could like romance, I contain multitudes. And I said I was showing you my favorite horror movie, Re-Animator got shelved there a couple weeks ago. My favorite is a comedy and never on the shelves.”
“Someone just brought back Ghostbusters today, and we were holding Goonies for movie night this weekend, but the kids have seen it before,” she offers, taking a blind stab at the kind of comedies that might make it to Eddie Munsons's favorite list. It's really a puzzle made more for Robin.
"Excellent features both, but I'm afraid my favorite is a little more black and white. Caught Some Like it Hot in a Marilyn Monroe double feature at the Hawk with Wayne as a kid. Used to rent it at the Blockbuster all the time before I moved to Hawkins full time, it's always rented here so," he grabs Dustin by the cap, shaking the kid's  head roughly back and forth, completely oblivious to the way Stevie's palms have started to sweat around the sticky case of Halloween.
"Who sorts their favorite films by genre?" Dustin asks, the question wobbling out of him with the shake of his head.
"I do, shortstack, by genre and all kinds of criteria your yet to be enlightened brain hasn't even thought to try."
"Sure, whatever, did you grab your favorite horror movie yet?"
Instead of answering, like a normal person might, Eddie Munson takes a step closer to her. He leans in close enough that she can smell the cigarette he must have smoked before he came in, the smell of his deodorant below that. His arm brushes against her lower back as he reaches and reaches.
She's gotta talk to Keith about getting the a/c fixed.
Eddie is close enough she can count the stubbly hairs of his not quite mustache. There's something about his eyes that reminds her of someone, but it's hard to place. Unlike the exact location of his right arm, currently brushing against the waistband of her jeans.’
And then he's gone.
In his hands he's got the black clamshell box of the movie, and Stevie feels a little bit like an idiot. "I could have moved."
"But then I wouldn't have gotten to appreciate the sweet, sweet smell of your hairspray."
With a sigh that could probably propel him into space, Dustin announces, "I'm going to the van."
And even though it doesn't really mean anything, it kind of feels like it might mean everything when once he's out of earshot she decides to tell Eddie, "I actually have that movie. That's why you can't ever find it, it's one of my favorites too."
Before he can finish the door alarm sound again, and she would recognize the sound of converse on the dirty store carpet even if Robin didn't immediately shout, "Stevie, you better get a brick someone locked your kid in their dirty van." She rounds the corner to find whatever scene she and Munson must make, the two of them too close together to be in a store with Family in its name right beside the horror section. "Oh."
"I'm across from Little Red, in the park," Eddie takes a big step back, hands stuffed in his pockets in a way that makes him look a million times more suspicious than if he'd just pulled away. She'd been right that it was a mistake to ever meet him. "If you wanted to bring that movie over sometime."
"We'll see, Munson."
He’s got the widest smile on his face that she only gets to appreciate for a second before he sweeps down low into a bow. The dimple in his face screams of a mischief that makes her think of childhood. “I know I shall, fair Stevie.” He nods at Robin, who trails him to the desk to check out while Stevie goes back to putting the returns on the shelf while they have that moment of quiet.
Moment of quiet from customers anyway, the second Eddie is out the door he takes Stevie’s last chance of peace with him.
“Were you just flirting with Eddie Munson,” the thought doesn’t tick up because Robin isn’t asking a question, she’s making an accusation.
“He was flirting with me.”
“But you were receptive to it.” She decides correctly and immediately. “Are you gonna go over there?”
Reaching under the counter for the wipes she’s started keeping there, Stevie carefully wipes off the gunk on her hands from the grimy video cases. Taking the time to try to figure out what she even wants to say.
“I’m just trying to survive. He knows who I am, who I was,” she corrects, “I’m not trying to do anything stupid that’s going to jeopardize our escape from Hawkins or being able to protect the kids.”
Pushing up to her tiptoes, Robin takes a quick glance around the store. Even though the room must be empty for her to even risk continuing the track Stevie has started them down, Robin still leans in close enough that she can smell the fruity scent of the gum that Robin always chews after lunch. “Maybe don’t jump to conclusions, you know the kind of rumors that go around about him. Like why he flunked gym twice before he got that doctor’s note, because he wouldn’t dress out with everyone else.”
She’s thinking about the guy who kissed the ring on her hand even when she says, “I think we already know that you can’t trust rumors. If they were all true then I’d be gay but compensating and you’d have gotten fired from the Hawk for letting the film burn because you were having sex in the bathrooms.”
“Part of that is true, I did burn that film reel.” She waves him off with a flap of her hand, stopping the movie on screen as it reaches the credits and tossing it to Stevie to rewind. She snags one off the counter at random and tosses it in the VHS player connected to the main screen. Stevie recognizes the start of Victor/Victoria as Robin leans against the counter in a way that screams she isn’t feeling as casual about the thing she’s about to say as she’s pretending she does. “And I mean, visually, it’s six of one or half-a-dozen of the other, right? You like both.”
“Okay, well,” she’s scrambling for something to say and she knows Robin can tell. “Eddie can just be my Vickie then, how about that?”
Stevie has backed them both into a conversational suicide pact. But she knows Robin well enough to know that she’s too scared to take the Vickie bait. While she’ll glare, and boy does she glare, she’d rather let Stevie get away with the blatant denial than admit she might have a real chance with her fellow bandkid.
“I think I’m gonna add Notre Dame to my application list.” She changes the subject, right on time.
When she’s holding a single VHS tape outside of Eddie Munson’s trailer with her hair carefully styled and her favorite lipgloss on. It’s too late to be wondering if maybe she’d been a little bit too right about calling Eddie her Vickie. The cab of the beemer is looking especially inviting, but she’s been in the Mayfield trailer when people have pulled up to their houses and there’s no way in hell that the Munsons haven’t heard her pull up.
A curtain twitches, like someone inside is aware of her internal debating. She tugs on the sleeve of the soft, colorblock sweater she’s got on, forcing the neck to ride a little lower on one shoulder.
And as the plastic case creaks in her hands she gives in and knocks.
Eddie is breathless when he answers the door, even though she was positive he was the one twitching the curtain just a second ago. He has a hoodie on that matches her out of season sweater.
“I wasn’t expecting you to actually show up,” he says, “I didn’t think to mention that my Uncle is asleep.”
“Oh!” She isn’t sure what else to say, standing on the porch with the news that she wasn’t actually expected.
“I just mean I would have told you to come by after he was awake so we could actually watch the movie.”
She glances back over her shoulder at her waiting car, “So should I-”
“No!” A strong hand closes gently as the friendship bracelet Robin made her around her wrist. “I’m not doing this right. I just mean you’ll have to kill some time in my room with me.”
“That’s some line.”
His eyebrows disappear into his bangs, the faint flustered pink that had been taking over his cheeks blooming into something someone who wasn’t staring intently at his face would notice. With a doglike shake of his head, he says, “This isn’t going the way I thought, hold on back to one.” And the door is shutting in her face.
When it reopens a bare second later, Stevie is sure she must be gaping.
“Hi Stevie, thanks so much for coming and bringing that movie we talked about. My Uncle is asleep in the living room right now, but don’t worry he works nights so he’s a sound sleeper. If you’ve got time, we can hang out in my room for an hour until he gets up and then we can watch it together.”
“Hi Eddie, thanks for giving me the 411 so clearly and without any possibility of confusion. It sure would be embarrassing to think that you hadn’t actually wanted me to come over.”
He pulls her in off of the front porch into a house that has things. After keeping herself awake last night worried that she would accidentally reveal something with her familiarity with the movie or that she wouldn’t be able to stop staring at Eddie. But with the mugs and the caps hung up on the walls, there are hundreds of things to distract herself with while she hangs out with him.
“Wayne’s a semi-professional thrifter.” Eddie tells her, it's hard to know if he's correctly interpreting her awe.
“Is he not good enough to go pro?”
That dimple is back, deep as the quarry dug into the side of his face as he drags her past the man in question, asleep on the pullout couch. “Oh he is, but he's too scared to quit his day job. He prefers to keep it a hobby.”
Before she knows it, she's a girl in a guy's bedroom on what's questionably a date. And according to some of the zines she's been a girl in a guy's bedroom a lot of times, at team overnights and birthday party sleepovers. 
But this feels different right now. Maybe it's the knowing: that there isn't something wrong with her and that she is what she is. Maybe it's the not knowing, does Eddie have expectations for the afternoon? And she doesn't have a clue what he does and doesn't know. 
As her wheels are spinning against the road, trying to grab onto anything to get moving, the babysitter brain kicks in. Instinct the snow chains of the mind, later she'll talk to Robin about whether she should be concerned about that.
“3 inches!” 
Eddie freezes with his hand on the door, more like an inch from latching.
“I, um.” He's looking at her now, and she's scrambling for an explanation that sounds better than ‘I've listened to multiple baby teens complain about this particular prophylactic and now that I'm on the other side of the bedroom maneuver I'm feeling a little inexperienced.’ She just isn't sure how well that would go over.
“The hinges squeak, good call.” He flops down on the bed, beckoning her a little closer. All she can think to do is sit at the edge, it makes her feel prim, too proper and too aware of the way her body fits in this room.
After the silence starts to drag, and she starts to question whether or not she's made a single good decision since November of 1983, Eddie asks, “So, what makes Stevie Harrington tick?”
“What do you mean?”
“Single handedly supporting the social lives of a generous handful of mouthy teenagers via unpaid taxi service, enjoys black and white cinema or at least enjoys this movie enough to risk the wrath of the VHS gods,” he ticks each one off on his fingers as he goes. “What else is there that makes you, you? Do you like piña coladas, getting caught in the rain? You look like you could be into yoga.”
The tension breaks like it had never been there to begin with, she tries to hide her laugh in her hand. The door is open, and Eddie's uncle is sleeping. “Oh my god is that that Jimmy Buffet song?”
“Escape is not a James Buffet number, your majesty, that's Margaritaville. And you're dodging the question.”
He's calmer than she remembers from high school, but still that bright passion he seems to have for everything is too much to look at directed at her. The warmth of him as hard to look at as the noonday sun. “I don't think I'm that interesting,” she casts her gaze around the room instead looking at all the personality that Eddie has shoved into the place in the few years he's lived here.
“I think you're lying.”
His closet is bursting from its boundaries. A sea of black pushing its way out in a waterfall of clothes onto the floor. 
“You think I’m lying about being boring?”
Jeans, shirts for bands she’s never heard of, a skirt.
“Tell me one weird fact about you, and I’ll tell you how you are definitely not boring,” he insists.
Skirts, multiple, now that she's looking she can recognize the shape of them. Is that a heavy metal thing? If she changed her style could she get away with finally wearing one in public.
“When I was a kid, I rode my bike to see 101 Dalmatians in theaters like six times. Then one day I found this fur coat in my mom’s closet and I made her get rid of it because I didn’t want her to be the kind of person who could own fur.”
“An animal activist,” Eddie says, “see, interesting. And proof of my bigger point that you, Stevie, are one of the best Hawkins has to offer. Aren’t you?”
It’s hard to imagine how he got there when she’s mentally rifling through his things, trying to figure out a way to ask about-
“They’re gifts from confused but well meaning long distance relatives.” Eddie explains, done politely ignoring where Stevie’s attention was actually focused. “I was a tomboy as a kid, so when they heard I was a tranny I guess they got confused. I felt bad donating them or throwing them away, made with love.”
That’s probably the bravest thing she’s seen that doesn’t involve flesh eating monsters. Stevie musters up the courage she taps into when fighting those monsters to say, “Me too, opposite direction. Obviously.”
“That would make you the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen then, Stevie Harrington. And definitely still the most interesting.” 
Euphoria, big like soap bubbles, fills her chest. It already feels like she could float away when he asks, “You wanna try one of them on?”
“You wouldn’t care? You just said they were homemade.” She’s already off the bed though, running a thumb over the soft black cotton. Up close she can make out the faintly lighter blacks and greys of a flower pattern. It’s beautiful.
“Well I wasn’t blessed with the gorgeous ass you’ve got, but it should fit just fine.”
She doesn’t have to be told twice, it's off the hanger and clutched in her hands before Eddie’s finished complimenting her. And oh, that sends some of that bubbling joy flooding a little farther south.
That new not revelation is easy to table. Drowned out by the feeling she gets when the skirt swishes around her knees. Light and floaty as cotton fabric. She’s a balloon flying out of some kid's hand disappearing into the clear blue sky.
“What do you think?” She twists and twirls, the long fabric spinning out around her like a princess in a Disney movie.
“Pretty as a picture.”
Her eyes snap up from the swirling black of the skirt, in time to fall down deep into the dark expanse of Eddie’s focused gaze. Hot and heavy on her.
For a second, it throws her back to when she was a kid. Standing on the dock at the camp lake, a pair of dark brown eyes staring at her while her beach towel wrapped around her like a dress. Twisting this way and that, posing with a hand in her hair that had grown longer than she was usually allowed to keep it after a missed summer cut. They’d just climbed out of the water, fingers pruny and faces ruddy from laughing. 
“How do I look?”
“Pretty as a picture!”
“Thanks, Eddie.”
Mouth open, whatever he’s about to say that warrants the way his eyes go soft and nervous is swallowed by an older man’s voice shouting down the hall, “Ed, you and your friend can come out and use the living room. I’m up.”
It’s refreshing, having one more person she can be herself with, fully. Having someone who understands even better than Robin what it feels like to be different. To feel the way she’s always felt. It’s hard to believe he hasn’t been in her life for forever the way he slots into it so easily.
But then maybe Dustin had a point, she has a way of attracting nerds.
And once they’ve found her they latch in and don’t let go. Feral cats every single one of them.
“Just put something on, Stevie, I swear to god.”
Eddie’s where he is most of the time these days, flopped sideways across her bed. Hair hanging off the side in a dark wave. Ratted out as it is it’ll defy gravity for longer than natural when he sits up again. But it looks beautiful now, the way Eddie always does.
“You say that now and then it’s all, ‘did the estrogen break your eardrums? How can you even like Wham?’ and ‘The only good thing Fleetwood Mac ever did was break up.’”
There’s a thump behind her, she doesn’t have to turn to know he’s flailed his way onto the floor. She does turn to see how his hair lifts up from the roots like the bride of Frankenstien. “I did not say that shit about Fleetwood Mac, Rumours is one of the best albums of all time.”
“No, you’ve just defamed everyone else in my record collection.”
 “It can’t be everyone,” he groans, “your entire collection can’t be Wham and Huey Lewis.”
“You’re forgetting Madonna and Blondie, pretty sexist of you Munson.”
“No, the ladies are where your taste shines through. That’s my planned window in, you see,” Stevie turns back to her record shelf, carefully paging through each one while Eddie talks. ABBA, Adams, Benetar, Bowie. “I’m gonna make you a real rock’n’roll mixtape, get you on the right path. Joplin, Heart, The Runaways, Girlschool.”
She lands on the perfect album, tosses it on the table and starts it spinning. It’s not until the jaunty guitar starts bouncing that she realizes what she’s done.
“Shit, sorry, let me set it back. You probably want to listen from the actual beginning of the album.”
“No, no, leave it, it’s fine.” Eddie says in the toneless way she’s noticed he gets when he’s focused. “Do you always skip straight to this track?”
“Yes?” Stevie knows this is one of those times when the answer she’s giving is going to mean something even if she isn't sure what the question hiding under the first is.
“Is there- I mean, is this just your favorite song or do you always start three tracks in on the B-side when I’m not here?” His laugh is weak, and it’s noticeable when everything about Eddie is so sure and strong.
She tugs on a single lock of her hair, twirling it around her finger before tugging. A nervous gesture she’s picked up from Eddie, now that it’s long enough. “There was this kid I went to camp with, first love shit, you know. We lost touch but she called herself my Boy Named Sue all summer. When I got home this was the only song I’d play for months. It’d finish and I’d pick the needle up and put it back at the start for hours. I really hope she’s doing okay now, however okay looks like for her. 
“Anyway, it’s just a force of habit. I can put it back to the start or pick a new album if you’ve got shit to say about the man in black too.”
There’s a dazed sort of reverie on Eddie’s face that he doesn’t snap back from until she moves for the record player. “No, no, play it again. I, um, shit- Okay, so I need you to not be mad at me.”
She doesn’t even need to look to set the track back to its start. Eddie’s got his hand fisted in his hair, pulling at it hard enough that it hurts her scalp, chewing at his bottom lip. Nerves have always made her a little mean. “I’m already feeling a little mad at you, say what you’re going to say.”
“I was going to tell you that first day we were hanging out,” he’s digging around in his back pocket for his wallet like it isn’t on a leash he could tug on like a dog, “we were sharing these mutual coming out moments and I thought, ‘now’s the time I’ll tell Stevie, everything is going to be great.’ Only Wayne woke up and ruined the moment and the longer we kept hanging out the harder it was to bring up again.”
“Just spit it out already.”
The photo insert hits her in the chest. Fumbling, she bats at it between her two hands before she’s able to get a firm catch. Raising both her eyebrows in a question Eddie barely answers with a wave of his hand. Even as she rolls her eyes, she looks down at the photo in her hands. A larger picture, carefully folded so that two kids are at the center. She recognizes the picture, has a copy of it in a shoebox in the back of her closet where she keeps all the tiny precious things she doesn’t want her mom to throw away when she starts decluttering. A picture of everyone who made it to the last day of summer camp, and now made center of this one is a ten year old Stevie with her arm flung tight around… Around Eddie.
“Surprise,” he says.
“You're? And you've been?”
“We moved right after that summer, I’ve told you the kind of guy my dad was. Not like evil or anything, just incapable of keeping his nose clean and he’d gotten into some trouble in Fort Wayne that sent us to Indianapolis for a bit. When I tried to write, I realized I’d either lost your address or it’d been thrown away.”
“What about when you got to Hawkins, with Wayne?”
“My voice still cracked when I got nervous, and you’ve always been the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. And it wasn’t like I looked the same way I did when we were kids, and at first you didn’t either.” She remembers the way she styled her hair back then, the tragic mustache she’d tried growing freshman year cause maybe that would make her feel the way everyone else said she was supposed to. “You looked muted, sad. But then I saw you laughing, at an FFA party I was dealing at, and when you tossed your head back I finally saw Stevie again.
“And when Henderson started coming around talking about his best friend Stevie. Stevie, who was the coolest person in the world. Who kept taking on all the worst parts of the world to keep people safe. And I latched on to him as hard as I could hoping I might get to see you again. If it was puppy love when we were ten, I've got a whole dog pound now I'm so in love with you. Maybe that's crazy to say.”
She can't listen anymore.
“Eddie, stop.” Before he can shut himself down, shutter closed and make his excuse to leave, she lets her own confessions tumble out faster than she can think of what she even wants to say, “You have made me feel more like myself since we first met.”
Her skirt, a deep plum and stolen from Eddie's collection, gets tangled around her ankles as she knee walks close enough that she can touch him. “You've given me confidence and clothes and a name.”
“I added an -ie, Sweetheart.”
“And I like it! It feels like me. I feel like me, and you helped me get there.
“Maybe it is too early to say things like I love you, but I loved the boy who refused to make friendship bracelets for anyone else at camp but me and now he's just promised me a mixtape.”
Stevie knows she could go even longer, could give a Shakespeare worthy speech about all the ways she likes Eddie Munson and what he has come to mean to her as the summer love she cherished in her heart and now. She could, but it's swallowed by the press of Eddie's mouth against hers. An ugly, spitty, puckered lip, perfect first kiss.
She gently corrects the motion until the kiss becomes something sweet and gentle. The kind she'd been hoping for when she'd gone back to camp that following summer. Something that belonged to sunscreened skin and freckled faces. Soft, innocent. But felt just as right here in the bedroom she’d grown up in with Johnny Cash on the stereo and the scent of the perfume she was trying out hanging in the air.
Eddie pulls away, moving just far enough to lean his forehead against hers, his hand coming up to cup the back of her neck. She can feel each slow exhale against her mouth. “I’m really glad I found you again.”
“I’m really glad you found me too.”
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about-faces · 2 months
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Batman: Caped Crusader, Episodes 1-2 thoughts (SPOILERS)
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First things first, Harvey is as bad as I’d expected. I honestly can’t tell whether this is worse than the version we got in the last Timm-produced animated Batman show, “Beware the Batman.” That Harvey was a humorless prick straight out of the William Atherton school of jerkasses, while this one is a smug sleazebag who would be someone you’d love to hate if he weren’t also a complete inversion of a great tragic hero turned villain.
I’m just so sick of people portraying Harvey as a politician first and foremost, performing for the cameras and thinking about his career ambitions. I’m sick of him being a corrupt asshole and even an authoritarian. I’m sick him being two-faced, when the irony of his character is that he himself never WAS. Now that that’s out of my system, I’ll move on, because I know he has an arc in store that may prove more interesting than the usual Asshole Harvey takes.
They tried several things with the Penguin, and I’m not sure they gelled into anything that worked for me this time out. Making her a woman, that’s no problem, and I appreciate her classic style and appearance in a time when everyone just wants to turn Cobblepot into a boring Tony Soprano knockoff.
Ultimately, though, it all just served to make her a standard “Ma Barker” archetype. You know, the alleged matriarchal crime boss who was killed by Hoover’s FBI, who may have dragged her name through the mud to excuse their killing of an old woman? There used to be several takes on her in pop culture, although nowadays the only famous one is probably Ma Beagle from “DuckTales.”
With that in mind, they should have just cast Margo Martindale. Excuse me, didn’t use her full name: Beloved Character Actress Margo Martindale. Minnie Driver is a fantastic actress (I’m still mad that “The Riches” was not only cancelled but totally forgotten), but it was a waste not to let her use her real accent. As it was, she was fine, but she didn’t bring anything special to match the physical design. As an actress, she deserved more to play with.
Also, “Oswalda” is a terrible fake name. Like come on guys, you can do better. That’s on par with Revolver Ocelot’s real Russian name being “Adamska.”
The biggest problem with this take on Penguin is that she’s set up as some kind of brilliant mastermind, only to act incredibly stupid, reckless, and gullible. She kills not one but two innocent goons, including her own son, without so much as an investigation or even keeping tabs on the suspected rats to use them as pawns against Thorne! To paraphrase Dijkstra from the “Witcher” books, you don’t kill spies, you USE them. You feed them misinformation! You blackmail them into being double agents! This Penguin is bad at her job, so no wonder she loses everything within hours. It’s amazing she was able to build a crime empire in the first place!
I also dislike Bullock being a corrupt cop in the mob’s pocket. That fits Flass perfectly, but Bullock? Fuck no. Bullock IS dirty, but he’s dirty in a very acceptable way to cops. He’s brutal, he cuts corners, he’s crass, and he’s probably not above planting or concealing evidence, but selling out to the mob? Hell no. That’s just wrong. Hate that choice. Unless it’s a misdirection. This show sure does love its misdirections from what I’ve seen so far.
Batman himself is… fine. He’s Batman. He’s not a bad Batman. He’s serviceable but unremarkable. But at least he wasn’t an irritating asshole, which is more than I can say for most Batman depictions these days. I liked Bruce trying his “falling off a boat” joke a second time, delivered verbatim after it flopped with Barbara.
Barbara being a defense attorney is a rather contrived choice, one that gets to put her at odds with Harvey while also giving her a professional in with both Batman and Gordon. Essentially, she’s in the role Harvey Dent is supposed to play. Except here she’s a defense attorney, which SHOULD put her at odds with her dad, since lawyers and cops don’t seem to like one another, for SOME reason!
And Harvey, even as District Attorney, can’t be in the role of legal ally to either Gordon, because the story is far more focused on making him a mayoral candidate who throws people under the bus for his own advancement! Feh.
Anyway, that was episode one. It was fine, I guess.
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The screenplay is by novelist and DC veteran Greg Rucka, so of course Renee Montoya is the central focus. Seeing her interact with Sleazebag Harvey gave me war flashbacks to what Rucka did with Renee and Harvey in the comics: setting them up with a poignant dynamic of tenuous respect and kindness before dashing it all with “Gotham Central: Half a Life,” which solidified the perception of Harvey as a creepy, obsessive stalker for a generation of fans. That version of them was very much of display here. Sigh.
Also, Lucius Fox is Bruce’s lawyer now? Why? And also, what the hell? God, poor Lucius. He starts off in comics as the guy actually running Wayne Enterprises, then “Batman: The Animated Series” makes him Bruce’s right-hand-man, then Nolan and Goyer get the inspired idea to make him the Q to Bruce’s 007, while the comics don’t know what to do with him and even make him an authoritarian to cause friction with his vigilante son, and now this? It’s such a random choice. There’s no reason why this character should be Lucius. Hell, Lucius could have shown up there WITH the lawyer and that would have been fine. As it is, it’s just weird.
That said! I overall liked this episode an awful lot! For DECADES now, I’ve wanted to see someone remember that Basil Karlo was an older actor in the classic horror movie vein (his name is literally a combination of Basil Rathbone and Boris Karloff), but ever since “Batman: The Animated Series,” everyone has just tried to make him BTAS’ Matt Hagen. Like, I really liked the “One Bad Day” issue for Clayface, where he gradually killed his way to the top of Hollywood stardom, but even that was still BTAS Hagen, the Serious Actor, not Karlo, the old horror ham actor.
But with this episode, someone finally drew on the old Hollywood horror roots of the character, and they found a way to combine his shape shifting abilities into the mix! I’m so happy!
Of course, this is me, so I still have criticisms. Like, I think it was unnecessary to frame it as a mystery, because that added unnecessary complications. I know the original Clayface story was a whodunnit and you can’t do that now that everyone knows that Karlo is Clayface. I was annoyed by the misdirection of Karlo’s “death,” in part because I feared this would be another Clever Subversion, just like how the animated adaptations of “Gotham By Gaslight,” “Hush,” and “The Long Halloween” purposely went against expectations from the source material in stupid ways. Hell, they’re doing the same thing now with Penguin (“But wait, there’s a twist: she’s a woman!”) and Harvey (“But wait, there’s a twist: he’s an asshole!”), so I was afraid this Clayface would end up being someone else entirely. I was okay with it in the end, but I’m annoyed at the cheap fakeout as a plot point.
Furthermore, I don’t get why Basil disguised himself as the doctor (whose name I don’t remember) for the benefit of the actress (whose name I don’t remember) he had chained up in his hideout. What benefit was there in making her think he was the doctor? She was already aware she was a prisoner and was scared, so why the facade? It served no purpose in context, only just to misdirect the viewers.
This is what happens when you try to make something a mystery when it would work better as a thriller. Stop trying to wow audiences with twists and surprises when you could just be focusing on telling a good story. So what if everyone figures out Karlo is Clayface? Who cares! Just go with it! Let them be in on it while Batman and Montoya figure it out themselves, that’s where the tension lies! Stop trying to be clever.
Regardless, I really liked this episode. I want this to now be the canon comics origin for Basil Karlo’s Clayface. Just explain that the treatments for his face gradually affected his whole body, and boom, you’ve successfully explained how classic Slasher Clayface became Mud Monster Clayface. This is how Karlo should always be written from now on. If you really want a sensitive, angsty lug Clayface, bring back Hagen. Let Karlo be the gloriously hammy monster with aspirations of stardom.
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apomaro-mellow · 1 year
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I'm finally starting it, the full-fledge version of my king eldritch abomination!eddie and prince steve ficlet series. Eddie is in the middle of a feud with an opposing kingdom. Running out of options, he decides to kidnap their prince. Part 1/?
Dark clouds descended over the castle. It had been raining for days. A fact that the king was certain had everything to do with the monster that made their home in the neighboring kingdom. Alric prided himself on being a successful monarch. His lineage was the stuff of legends. But there was one blemish on the Harrington name. And it was that none so far had been able to best the beast that lived on the horizon.
It was an unfortunate state that his land shared a border with that of a King Edward. He wasn’t a man, he was a…a creature. A thing with many voices and many faces that masqueraded as a mortal human.
If there was one thing Alric could do to seal his name in the annals of history, it was wiping that entire place and all its inhabitants off the face of the map.
Such a thing was easier said than done. As much steel and iron as his armory possessed, the monsters were numerous. 
“Increase the patrols. I want eyes on every inch of the border”, he ordered.
“Do we have enough men for that? Recruitment has been low”, the prince said.
An amendment to a previous statement. There was a second blemish on the Harrington family. And his name was Steven. His son, who did nothing but sleep with whatever girl looked his way. Complacent and unambitious. The rare day he was allowing the disappointment to join in on the session with his war council and he was speaking out of turn.
“You would do best to watch your tongue”, Alric said.
Steve turned his head down, deferring to his father. He was good at one thing at least. Obedience. He looked down to the map again, pacing about it, trying to think of where best to send his men to quell what was surely a slow uprising.
“He is right, my liege. We can’t afford to send more men to the borders. This year’s crop of squires hasn’t met expectations.”
Alric glared at anyone who dared to disagree with him, even if they were right. But the reasoning of the lack of bodies would give him an excuse to do what he’s been wanting to for a while. It wasn’t enough to kill the monsters that inched along the border. It was time to officially go on the offensive.
--------------------------------
The rain coming down wasn’t by anyone’s hand but nature’s. You couldn’t tell a Harrington that though. They were stubborn as mules. He knew this quite well. King Edward had been ruling his realm for long enough that he had been dealing with Alric and his father and his father’s father. All who saw him and his people as only pests to be exterminated. 
He could look past the odd villager slaying one of the demogorgans when they came into a town looking for an easy meal. That was simply self defense. But as of recently King Alric had begun sending soldiers into his forests to start seeking out any beasts and ending them on their own ground.
In response, Eddie used his powers to erect a thorny barrier. Anyone who wanted to enter his kingdom from that side would have to struggle through a dense bramble. It would be difficult for soldiers on horseback to get through. This sort of back and forth continued for months. Alric would sent more people, despite the harsh terrain, never caring for the champions he lost. The border would be strengthened to try and keep him out and he would just find another way in.
Eddie was losing his patience with the man and the straw that broke the camel’s back was when a messenger arrived with news of what happened to one of the towns close to the border.
“My lord! It’s terrible!”, the messenger bellowed as he crashed into the throne room.
“What is it?”, Eddie asked, concern showing through his voice and face.
“King Alric’s men! They’ve-! They’ve-!”
They had trespassed the line once again but this time they didn’t go attack a nest of demodogs. No, it seemed for this visit they saw fit to lay waste to a township of innocent civilians. They hadn’t slain a single monster. Only people.
It was practically a declaration of war. 
“This can’t go on”, Jeff, one of his most trusted knights said when he heard the news.
“And it won’t”, Eddie promised. He was going to have some words with this tyrant. If he could avoid war, he would. But Eddie had a feeling if they ever got into the same room, he would kill him.
----------------------------
Alric barely gave the sealed envelope a glance before tossing it into the fire. Steve shot up from the chair he’d been sitting in. 
“What are you doing?! King Edward has finally sent a correspondence. Don’t you want to talk with him?”
“Steven! Don’t raise your voice at your father”, his mother, Juliana, scolded. “He knows what he’s doing.”
At the queen’s stern look, Steve sat back down. After speaking his mind in the war room, Steve hadn’t been allowed back. The privileges normally afforded to a crown prince, coming to the meetings, providing his own insight were taken from him. He didn’t want to think about what else would be taken if he kept speaking his mind. But this couldn’t be the right way of doing things. After shedding blood, the opposing monarch was trying to talk.
And his father was just ignoring it.
“That letter was most certainly just the incomprehensible scratch of an illiterate”, his father spat. “He wears the face of a man but that is not what he is.”
Steve ventured a question. “Then what is he?”, he asked quietly.
Alric stared intensely at the fire. “He is an abomination. Borne of the dark void which sucks all light and warmth from this world.”
“He can change his shape. That is why he is so dangerous”, Juliana added. “It is why he must be stopped.”
Steve understood that. He had heard the stories, which at this point were legends. One day, something had risen from a black pool and no one knew what it was. But it was powerful. Powerful enough to conjure up more from the black pool. More that were like it. Able to use the muck to make walls rise from the ground.
King Edward and fought with his great grandfather, which was how the border existed in the first place. He had fought his grandfather, which was why beasts like the demogorgan kept sentry at his borders. And now it was happening again.
Alric ignored every single letter that came, determined not to speak or negotiate. In the mean time, he continued to send squads to attack at towns and villages, stoking the other king’s ire. -----------------------------
Eddie was once again, meeting with his council, squatting in his chair while their voices rose in volume. Each one angry and hurt and wanting to finally bite back. Eddie thought that this time he could choose peace. That this time he could get away without fighting. But it appeared wise old Alric was ready for a war.
“SILENCE!”, Eddie shouted while slamming his hands on the table. All conversation ceased. He rubbed at his face. “We have one last step before waging a war that could kill more than it saves.”
“And what’s that?”, Gareth asked.
Eddie rose to stand on his chair, then stepped onto the table that held a map of both of their lands. “If Harrington won’t sit down with us well then”, he stalked over to the pieces on the table that represented the royal family. He plucked up the one that was meant for the prince. “We’ll make him sit down.”
Part 2
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storm-angel989 · 2 months
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Sorry if I've been the one filling up your inbox and it's annoying and my requests don't make sense but could you do a Valentino's daughter where shes m0lested by her teacher sorry if it's to dark or anything but I would really love to see this in your style love your work and style thank you (and reader is like 17-18)
Hi there,
This is a very real and intense traumatic experience that so many people have been through. I don’t write explicit scenes involving minor characters, and with my lack of personal experience within this topic, writing anything as such isn’t something I’m confident or comfortable doing. That being said, I didn’t want to not honor your request, so I tweaked it slightly to make it Valentino’s reaction to his daughter’s horrific ordeal. I hope that my writing justifies the trauma that reader has gone through and perhaps helps someone, somewhere find healing. 
<3 Mandy 
Valentino couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about the way his daughter had been acting lately just felt off. 
“She’s just growing up, Val,” Velvette reassured him over coffee one morning. “She’s a senior in high school. Probably worried about college. Didn’t you say she was thinking about going up to Ozzie’s territory? Or Mammon’s? That’s a pretty big jump from here.” 
“Not to mention quite a long way from her family,” Vox added. “Add in the stress of senior year? No wonder she seems a little bit more tired than usual.”
Still, despite their reassurances, Valentino couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. It didn’t take him long to decide that he would get to the bottom of this, one way or another. A conversation definitely seemed warranted- light prodding, just to assure her someone was here if she needed to vent. Make sure she knew she was loved, and had support around her. 
And to start, he decided, he would pick her up from practice himself that night. 
Signing into the highschool wasn’t technically necessary- after all, he and the other V’s owned the building in which he stood. But he wouldn’t brush aside the safety protocols. After all, they were in place for a reason. He made his way down the hallway towards the gym, pausing when he watched a plethora of laughing girls emerge from the locker room. He recognized several of them as her teammates. 
“Excuse me, ladies. Have you seen my daughter, ehm, reader?” He asked.
He wasn’t expecting the uncomfortable silence that greeted him. Several of them looked away. An odd feeling settled in his gut and his eyes met the eyes of the girl he knew reader considered her best friend. 
“Readers Best Friend, where is she?” He asked softly. 
“Mr. Cavallero’s room,” she muttered. “ It’s her turn. You might not want to….”
Valentino didn’t wait for her to finish. One of the perks of owning the school- he knew each room, each teacher and the layout of the building like the back of his hand. As Valentino silently rushed his way towards the classroom, that bad feeling in his gut solidified. 
Half dressed. Eyes glazed over. Apologies. Daddy, I’m sorry. His jacket, wrapped around her bare shoulders. The scene blurred together as Valentino’s anger took over. He grabbed the so called teacher by his neck and slammed him against the wall. 
“Baby. Go call Uncle Vox and tell him to come pick you up. Right now.” 
To him, his voice sounded calm. But as soon as his daughter left, he unleashed the fury reserved only for the worst offenders. By the time Vox arrived, there was nothing left- no trace that such a teacher had ever been in existence. Slowly, he took a drag from his cigarette and stared at the disheveled desk before shifting through the papers. 
Minors. The son of a bitch was going after girls he had no business touching. Valentino’s lip curled in disgust. Even he, as the overlord of lust and depravity, ensures that no child would ever cross paths in his studio. No being would participate in his lucrative business until they were of age, able to understand and consent to what he was offering. He could feel his blood boil and suddenly, an eerie calm washed over him. 
“I want every data point on this creature,” Valentino said to the open room. “I want every girl on that team to speak to someone, and I want to ensure that whoever hired him loses their job, and whoever hired that person also loses their job.” He lifted the cigarette to his lips, “and I want every single classroom, corner and crevice in this school and all the others to be equipped with cameras. And a team hired to monitor them.”
“Val, are you…” 
Valentino ignored him as he turned and walked out of the room. “Where is my daughter?” 
“She went home with Velvette, Valentino, what did you do?”
Valentino exhaled a cloud of red smoke as he walked out the front door of the building. “I eliminated a problem, Vox.”
Vox stared at him as understanding washed over him. His fingers flew over his phone and in seconds, there would be no consequences for Valentino’s actions. There would be no court case, no trial, no follow up and dramatic, made for tv rehashing of the trauma these girls had gone through. With the existence of that monster gone, the beings he had hurt would be able to get the help they would need to continue on with their lives. 
Vox  followed him out the door and got into the limo next to him. A quick ride later, and Valentino extinguished his cigarette just before he walked into their flat. 
“Daddy, I’m so sorry,” her words echoed as he made his way down to her bedroom. He felt his anger begin to rise and he took a deep breath before he knocked on the door. 
“Bebita?” he asked softly as he surveyed the room. 
His daughter, curled up and crying as Velvette sat next to her. Velvette looked at him and he made his way across the room. 
“Daddy, I…”
“You have no reason to apologize and I need no explanation,” Valentino replied calmly. “Let me be very clear, mi amore. I am not angry, I am not upset, and I do not blame you. But I do need to know if you’re physically hurt.”
To his relief, she shook her head no. 
“Good. We can talk in your own time, when you’re ready but for now…for now baby, know that I will protect you..” Valentino reached out, an offering of his arms. To his relief, she wrapped her arms around him and he held her in a hug. 
“No one will ever hurt you like that again,” he said softly. “I promise.”
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actuallysaiyan · 7 months
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YAAAAAAAY you’re back! 😃
May I please request headcanons for Gohan, Goten, and Trunks reacting to their female singer S/O performing on stage with a male singer that they have a ton of chemistry with?
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warnings: smut, oral sex(male receiving), spanking, jealousy, unprotected sex, possessiveness pairings: Son Gohan x Fem!Singer!Reader, Son Goten x Fem!Singer!Reader and Trunks x Fem!Singer!Reader
smut under the cut
Gohan
Look, he’s so insanely proud of you. You’ve come such a long way in your career. He loves watching you on the stage as well. He’s your biggest supporter.
He also understands that at times, you may look like you’re getting really close to fans or other performers, but he knows it’s just all an act.
Until that night, when he sees you practically grinding up against the guest performer. His blood begins to boil. This isn’t what you two agreed upon.
He’ll watch the performance, not wanting to cause a scene. But just know that things will go south when you get home. He’s got no patience for this kind of shit.
Once you’re done with your concert, he grabs you by the wrist and tells you there’s an emergency at home. You truly believe him somehow so you go along with it.
“You think this is funny?” he asks, his voice strangely calm. When you two get home, he’s pinning you to the wall. Your wrists are above your head and he’s kissing you so hungrily.
If you try to protest and argue, things will only get worse. He will pull your panties off, tug your dress up over your hips and he’s going to spank you until you’re crying.
“It’s not funny, babygirl. I warned you, I didn’t want to see you with another performer so close like that.” He says as his big hand soothes over your red ass. “Don’t forget it.”
Goten
More jealous than his older brother. Definitely is the type to keep a hand or his arm wrapped around you during afterparties and things like that. Wants everyone to know you belong to him and only him.
Probably spies on you from time to time, but he’s so goofy and sweet on the outside, he’s always got some sort of excuse for this behavior. And you believe it.
The night that you decide to dance so close and grind on the guest performer, he’s so jealous. He’s fuming and ready to pull you off stage.
He doesn’t let you have an encore. The minute you come backstage after your performance, he’s taking you away from everyone. The crowd is disappointed but he doesn’t care.
Goten is going to be fucking you in the backseat of the car while your driver drives you home. He’s feral and angry, leaving lots of marks on you.
“Fuck…do you have any idea how much that kind of shit pisses me off?” He asks, pressing his face in the crook of your neck while he fucks into you hard and deep.
You can barely think straight, clinging to him to keep yourself grounded as his cock rams into you over and over, bullying your sweet spot and cervix.
He’ll have you stuffed full of cum, disheveled. If there are paparazzi outside your apartment when you get home, he’ll proudly parade you around so that they get the pictures of you full of Goten’s cum and you look like you got your world rocked.
Trunks
He’s a jealous man, but it’s a bit different than Goten. He’ll be possessive at times, but he can also be a bit more reserved and watch you from afar. He saw first hand what jealousy does when it comes to his parents, so he’s got different tactics.
He’s got connections, so he always has tabs on you. He makes sure you’re okay, even when he can’t be with you on every part of every tour.
When you excitedly tell him you’re touring with one of your favorite performers, he’s a bit wary of this. But like a good boyfriend, he is excited and he supports your decision.
The only problem is that he is not happy with the chemistry you have with this performer. He wasn’t expecting this at all. He keeps a close eye on this man.
Then one night, you’re grinding and dancing with the performer, and Trunks grows so angry. His blood is boiling, he’s so close to going Super Saiyan. How could you do this to him?
The minute you’re done with your concert and you’re done with the meet and greets, Trunks has his hand on your shoulder and he’s guiding you towards the limo that’s waiting outside.
“Wait, there’s an afterparty!” you try to coax him, but he’s not hearing any of it. He has you in the limo with ease and you’re seated on his lap.
“What the fuck was that, princess?” He asks, tugging on your hair to make you look into his eyes. “Do I need to punish you?” But you already know he’s going to for the stunt you just pulled.
Trunks has you gagging and choking on his cock, watching as you try to catch your breath. Just know that if you pull that shit on him again, the consequences will be worse.
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teecupangel · 1 year
Note
Dc x Ac Crossover idea
Desmond survived the solar flare and thru events become bruce Waynes sugarbaby
Feel free to ignore just thought it might be an interesting concept
To make this easier for us, we’ll have Desmond transported into the DC world after the Solar Flare. This way, we don’t have to make an excuse why the other DC superheroes couldn’t do something about the Solar Flare or how they learned about it too late.
Or… you know… we can have Desmond meet Batman because the Justice League was able to stop the Solar Flare and that leads to Batman learning about the Grand Temple and meeting Desmond.
Anyway, regardless of how it’s done, the main setup would be that Desmond would set up shop in Gotham because it’s more of his alley. The rogue gallery there is something he can manage and Gotham is under Batman’s purview so he doesn’t normally have to deal with the other DC characters… normally.
In this situation, Desmond would not know anything about Batman or DC as his world doesn’t have DC comics. So when he meets Bruce Wayne in a gala or something where he’s working as the bartender, he just thought of him as a charming rich dude.
A charming rich dude that he sucked off during his break.
But that’s about it.
Then, a few weeks later, Bruce Wayne comes into his bar and they talk…
He serves him drinks and one of his “we have no menu you eat what I want to cook for the day” meal…
They fucked in the small apartment he has above the bar…
Bruce Wayne leaves and Desmond thought that would be the end of it.
He wasn’t expecting anything from Bruce.
And he’s trying to keep a low profile as he build up his information network so he can plan how to to be an Assassin in Gotham without making a mistake that will shatter the order holding Gotham if he was to start building his Brotherhood.
Then…
Bruce Wayne visited his bar once again (always while it was closed) and…
Things spiral from there.
At first, Desmond assumed they were fuck buddies which he didn’t mind.
Then…
Bruce started giving him expensive gifts and Desmond can’t say no, not when his Bleed of Ezio has given him a taste of how nice it was to have expensive good quality things…
And then…
Bruce started taking him to places… high quality hotels… restaurants that need reservation for months just to get in…
Vacation spots that needs them having to use Bruce’s private jet…
It was only when he finally met one of Bruce’s sons, Damien Wayne, who calls him ‘father’s paramour’ that he realized…
Holy shit.
He was Bruce Wayne’s sugar baby.
.
.
On the other side of this story is Bruce who had been surprised (and enjoyed) by the blowjob and had only done a cursory check of Desmond’s identity because… well… he has a history for romancing people who would stab him in the back later on and…
… came up blank.
Desmond has an identity, sure, but it was fake.
Before that…
There was nothing.
So he went to the bar to investigate further and…
They fucked in Desmond’s place above the bar.
After that…
Bruce started to visit to keep an eye on him.
He started to feel bad because he was having sex with someone who doesn’t know he was trying to figure out their real identity (especially when Desmond seems so earnest about how he appreciates Bruce’s visits) so he started… giving him gifts as a way of apologizing without really apologizing.
Then he started taking Desmond out, starting with Gotham to check if Desmond is okay being seen with him then…
He started bringing Desmond to other places, trying to check if anyone would recognize him some way or another.
And feel bad because he is making Desmond bait for whatever past he was trying to hide.
Until Damien called Desmond ‘father’s paramour’ and Bruce realized…
He was too deep in this that he cannot tell Desmond the truth in fear of Desmond leaving him and no longer even caring what past Desmond is hiding.
… oh.
He was in love.
… well, fuck.
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spoon-slayer · 4 months
Note
TASM Peter Parker x TASM Gwen x Son reader
Okay, so this is an AU where Gwen doesn't die and she and Peter stay together and Gwen gets pregnant. Maybe you can write that she goes into labor and Peter has a cute fluff moment with being able to hold/see his son and Peter trying to calm him down.
Or
TASM Peter Parker x Son Reader
Peter is a single dad and it's his son's first doctor's appointment in the end, the reader has to get a shot and gets scared so Peter does his best to calm him down.
[Sorry I need fluff right now]
Shots Aren’t That Bad
TASM!Peter Parker x Son!Reader [MASTER LIST] SUMMARY: Peter hasn’t been a proper father in so long. So, when you begin to throw a fit over needing shots, he doesn’t know how to handle it. WARNINGS: Needles, shots, Doctor Offices + Brief mentions of depression and death. A/N: Hello! I’m back, and you’re the first request I’m writing for! I tweaked it a bit, so let me know if you didn’t want that! Please excuse how long it’s taken me to write this, I’m trying to get back into the groove of things. Let me know about any mistakes in my writing, and I’ll get to fixing it soon. Enjoy! [GIF NOT MINE]
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Peter honestly didn’t know how his uncle did it, taking a kid to a scheduled appointment for shots. Having to wrestle the petrified kid to sit still long enough for a shot to the arm.
Because, right now, he had to sooth a screaming five year old. Sure, it would’ve been nice to have some help but he had to learn to do this himself. He wasn’t sixteen anymore, he was almost twenty-one. Aunt May won’t always be there to help him.
Peter’s depression after Gwen’s death lasted far too long for his liking. He missed out on quite a bit and had a lot of… For a lack of better words, ‘dad duties’ to catch up on. And, god forbid, it was hard. Really hard.
Frustration bubbled through his chest as soon as the doctor left the room. When his five year old son, You, immediately turned to beg for a way out of getting a shot. Pleading.
“Daddy,” you began, fingers moving to curl into Peter’s shirt. Peter gritted his teeth. He shouldn’t get frustrated with you, but he couldn’t help it. It’s been so long since he’d last dealt with a potential tantrum, so his skills lacked and his knowledge failed.
Why did he have to fall into that deep depression? This all would’ve been so much easier if he hadn’t closed himself off.
“You’re getting that shot,” Peter lifted his hand, brushing his fingers delicately through your hair. It did little to sedate your fear. And honestly? Peter didn’t expect it to. So he was far from surprised on how you reacted. “I know it’s scary, buddy, but afterwards we’re going to get some food.”
“Daddy,” you repeated, voice growing louder. Peter grimaced. A tantrum was imminent, and he was dreading its approach. Your bottom lip trembled in the pout you had mustered, eyes tearful and cheeks just about to be streaked with tears. “I don’t want it, it’s gonna hurt.”
“I know. It’ll be over before you know it. Just, bear with me here. Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” Peter damn near pleaded. His hands moved from your hair to cradle your face. You’ve grown to fit into his palms comfortably. Peter ignored the dull ache in his chest at the realization.
He’d missed it.
“It’s going to hurt,” You repeated. You were crying now, grabbing at his shirt. “It always hurts,” Peter grit his teeth. He had to stay calm. You were just a child, of course you had fears and trouble with regulating your emotions. He wiped some tears.
“Please,” You pleaded. This wasn’t going to work on him. But, it didn’t hurt to try.
“Kid,” Peter spoke more sternly now. “No. C’mon, there has to be something to calm you…” Peter muttered, more to himself than to you.
There had to be something to sedate this fear. Something had to work, something had to give. And, despite all his efforts, it led to screaming. (Of course it did, or else it wouldn’t have been mentioned at the beginning of this story.)
Frustration had finally seeped from his chest and into his head, clouding his mind as tears, too, flooded his eyes. And that was what got you to cease your screaming and crying, reduced to hiccups as your father damn near sobbed from the frustration you were bringing him.
Guilt. You felt guilt numb your fears. “Daddy…?” You wiped your face haphazardly, hands now wet with salty tears from your short lived tantrum.
“What?” Peter replied, exasperated. He had long since backed away from you, hands now clutching at his hair and tugging lightly. He had even sat himself down on the seat beside the examination table you sat upon. His tone was harsh, tired. Once he got a look at your face, your reaction, he sighed and softened up. “What is it?”
You didn’t reply for a moment, silently studying him. Something you picked up during his absence from your life. From a young age, you had to adapt to mood swings between good days and bad days. Where your father was energized enough to Sit and watch a movie to the days he’d lay in bed, easily irritated by your presence and getting Aunt May to take care of you. You learned to tell his mood from it.
From what you saw, he wasn’t a ‘Happy Daddy,’ or a ‘Mad Daddy.’ Neither of those categories were linear but just a general sense of if he was in a mood or not. Rather, this one, was more of a ‘Sad Daddy.’ (The system of which you developed wasn’t full proof. As, sometimes he looked happy when he was sad.)
With this assessment, you briefly fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, tugging on it for just a moment. “I’m sorry.” Your voice was quiet, meek.
And Peter paused. He’d heard that tone before, many times. From the days he’d lay in bed, mindlessly scrolling and groaning in disdain that his Son even requested his attention and called for his Aunt to get you. (He’ll never forgive himself for those days. He was going to rebuild this relationship with his son.)
“It’s okay, I…” Peter stopped, wetting his lips. He was back to standing. “It’s okay. I just got frustrated, that’s all. It’s okay,” he reassured.
“I’ll get the shot,” You continued, watching as Peter gently grasped your hands in his. “I won’t cry, I promise. I’ll be a big boy.”
Peter honestly didn’t like how you were acting. Not in the sense it made him angry, more so… Sad. Guilty. You were trying to act mature, trying to seem less like a little boy and more like an understanding adult. “You can cry. Don’t… Don’t act like this, please. It’s.. I…” Peter struggled. He couldn’t find the right words, really. “Crying shows you’re strong..?” Was that the right thing to say? God damn it. He didn’t know what he was doing and it showed. Next time Aunt May gives him unsolicited parenting advice, he’s going to listen.
Well, at least you stopped crying.
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allyjoe755 · 5 months
Text
What I Think Pt. 2
lucien vanserra x reader
Part One
Lucien's response to your claims.
A/N: thank you all for the love and support with part one, it made me really excited to do part two! I hope you enjoy
Word Count: 645
Warnings: angst.
o-o-o
He didn’t say anything for a moment. He didn’t so much as move as you both stood there, eyes locked on the other’s.
You thought you had won. That he knew you were right, that he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
But then he leaned against the wall behind him. He smirked.
And you seethed.
“So it’s me who has all the problems then, huh?” He began. “Oh, Cauldron forbid I want to be helpful to those around me.”
“You’re not helpful,” you spat. “You’re a needy man in disguise, parading his way through the courts. There’s a difference.”
“You’re not sacrificing,” he countered. “You’re just a martyr. And a piss-poor one at that.”
You scoffed. “Excuse me?”
“Need me to repeat myself?”
You rolled your eyes. “Obviously not. But I’m not a martyr.”
“Really?” He took a step toward you, that devilish smile still on his face. If it were appropriate, you would punch it.
Mother above, were you really betrothed to this man?
You weren’t a martyr. You weren’t looking for attention, for some sort of award for what you did. You did it because the court needed someone, they needed you–
Oh Gods.
“You want everyone to pity you,” he began. “That’s why you said yes to this arrangement, wasn’t it? Poor y/n, the girl stuck with the High Lord’s bastard son—“
“Stop it.” A fire began to form in your stomach, in your throat–
“Not only that, but he was already mated. Too bad she’ll never know true love–”
“I said stop it–”
“Poor y/n, and all the things she’s done and sacrificed for this court–”
“SHUT UP!”
You screamed the words, and Lucien was close enough that your noses were almost touching, that you were sure he could feel each of the heaving breaths you took.
You couldn’t say anything, couldn’t think–
You needed to leave. You couldn’t do this, maybe Lucien was right, you couldn’t do this, you couldn’t do this–
You didn’t realize your back was against the door until you felt yourself reaching for the door handle. And once you had a hold of that, you left.
You weren’t running, but you weren’t walking, either, you were just…. leaving. You had to get away. Get away from the situation, get away from the conversation, get away from him–
Because he was right. At least, you thought he was right, and you didn’t want to think about what it meant if he was right.
“Y/n.” He called your name from down the hall. His footsteps grew louder the closer he became. It didn’t stop you.
“Y/n, wait–”
He reached you, grabbing your arm as he did.
“Don’t touch me!” You cried, your voice more broken than you thought it was, than you wanted it to be, than you wanted him to hear it as.
He let go, almost immediately. You stayed still, unmoving. So did he.
You cursed that there was no clock in the hall, nothing to fill the silence between the two of you.
Finally, Lucien let out a sigh.
“Look, I—“
“Don’t try and tell me that you didn’t mean what you said,” you told him. “Because then you’ll be expecting the same from me, and I can’t offer you the same solace.”
More silence. Aching, noisy silence. You hated it. You wanted nothing to do with it.
Maybe you wanted nothing to do with any of this.
Without looking down, you slid the betrothal ring– your one gift from Lucien– off your finger. It was a beauty, truly, the woven thing of gold and diamond.
You held the item out to him, grasped between two fingers.
You didn’t have the energy to try and decipher his change in expression.
“Do you want this?” You asked, voice tight and shaking. “Not symbolically. Genuinely, Lucien. Do you want this back?”
o-o-o
taglist: @hardcoremarvelfan @xyzmeh @thelov3lybookworm @acourtofbatboydreams
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togrowoldinv · 1 year
Text
The Sweetest Treat
Kate Bishop x Female Reader
Kate invites the Barton’s to New York for Halloween and you spend the night watching her shine with happiness
Note: Woohoo flufftober! Here’s another soft one!
Flufftober Masterlist, Main Masterlist
When Kate said that her Avenger friend, Hawkeye, was going to bring his kids to New York for Halloween, you weren’t sure what to expect.
She had only just started dating you when she met Clint and all of her life began to change. It wasn’t easy on her to lose her mother to prison, but her relationship with Clint and his wife helped her feel better.
You just know that you’re grateful to them and can’t wait to meet them today. Kate has her apartment decorated for the holiday and is practically bouncing off the walls excited for them to arrive.
“Do you think we bought enough candy?” Kate asks as she waits by the door.
“I think we have enough for all of New York,” you joke. She nods seriously. “Kate, baby, don’t worry. There’s plenty for Clint’s kids and plenty for trick or treaters.”
“You’re right,” Kate says. “I just want to make sure they’re happy. I had a great time meeting them at Christmas, but what if things aren’t as good this time?”
“It’s going to be amazing, Kate Bishop. You’re amazing and there’s nothing that’s gonna change that,” you encourage her.
She smiles and hugs you. Your head falls perfectly against her chest as you soak up the warm affection.
“I love you. Did you know that?” Kate asks.
“Mhm, I sure did. I love you too,” you say.
You stay in each others arms until you’re interrupted by a knock on the door. Kate opens the door.
The youngest kid practically barges in before he’s held back by his mother.
“Hi everyone,” Kate says, her smile beaming. “Come on in.”
“Thank you, Kate,” Laura says. You recognize her from photos that Kate brought home after Christmas. She hugs Kate and looks to you. “And you must be, y/n.”
“Yes ma’am,” you say. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too,” Laura says. Her attention is stolen by her young son running around the apartment already. “Excuse me.”
“Hey Kate,” Clint greets her now. He looks at her almost softly. You know she values his place in her life.
“Hawkeye,” she greets him with a laugh that he shares.
“Lila’s been excited to see you again,” Clint says quietly so only you and Kate and can hear him. “She thinks you’re cool. Her words, not mine.”
Kate’s eyes shine at his words. You can already see the impact this family has on her.
Lila and Cooper had made themselves comfortable on the couch. Kate leads you over to the teenagers.
“Hey guys,” Kate says. “This is my girlfriend, y/n. Y/n, this is Cooper and Lila.”
“Hey, nice to meet you both!” You say. “Kate told me all about the card games y’all played at Christmas. If we ever play, just know you’re all going down.”
“We’ll see about that,” Lila says. You like her already.
“What have you been up to?” Kate asks Lila.
They catch up on life and you love watching them interact. Kate seems lighter already. A few hours pass and it’s time for the kids to get ready to go trick or treating.
Nate is dressed up and so is Cooper. He doesn’t seem like he wanted to but his little brother wanted to wear matching costumes.
“Do I have to go?” Lila asks her parents. She’s not wearing a costume, but they still want her to go walk around with them.
“She can stay with us,” Kate jumps in. “We’re going to pass out candy.”
“Please Mom, can I?” Lila pleads.
“Alright,” Laura agrees. “Be good.”
“I’m always good,” Lila says.
“I know,” her mom says. “All three of you be good.”
You all nod and see the rest of the Barton’s out of the apartment. Kate turns on a fun Halloween playlist and you give out candy as the trick or treaters come. You love watching her interact with the kids. She always compliments their costumes.
The night is winding down and Kate is giving out candy to the last few kids in the building. You sit on the couch and sip on a warm apple cider.
“Can I ask you something?” Lila suddenly turns to you and asks.
“Sure,” you say, sitting upright a bit more. Her tone seems serious.
“How did you know you were in love with Kate?” Lila asks. She looks away like she’s scared of the answer.
“Oh, well it was a really interesting sensation. I just kind of looked at her one day and I thought yeah I love this girl,” you say. “It wasn’t some epiphany as much as it was just something that felt right.”
Lila nods and her eyes tell you she wants to say more.
“Why do you ask?” You press.
“No reason,” she shrugs. “I just- I might be at that point with someone and I was just curious.”
“Ah, I see,” you say. The girl smiles nervously. “Follow your heart, Lila. And you just might find that it leads you to the place you’ve always belonged.”
“Thank you, y/n,” Lila says. She hugs you.
“Of course,” you reply, hugging her back.
“Aw man,” you hear Kate’s voice. “I’m going to replaced by you now.”
“No one could ever replace you Kate,” Lila says. Kate sits next to her on the couch and wraps her arm around her shoulder. “Y/n is cool though.”
“Isn’t she?” Kate asks. “I got the best treat of all.”
“You’re an absolute cheeseball,” you tease her.
Kate smiles softly. You end up turning on a movie and relaxing until the rest of the Barton’s get back to the apartment. You enjoy hearing about Nate’s night.
Kate lays down with you that night so content that it makes you emotional. You kiss her softly and fall into a deep sleep.
She’s the sweetest treat indeed.
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