#but like. literally their music has gotten me through so much. if it feels like the world is against me I know Brian Fallon's lyrics got me

[thegreatbluecat72]

Ok ok ok I do love rock (we can thank Guitar Hero III: Legends of Rock for that) and I liked the songs I listened to from the gaslight anthem and added them to my playlist 😁😁😁 ty for the recs!!!

of course!!! Their music is so timeless to me, I hope you can enjoy it for years to come!!

[gyuswhore]

Grease (the tragedy)

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”

jeon wonwoo x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!

synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.

[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe

and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh

and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!

masterlist

 [You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???

Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here. 

It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents. 

[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7  [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine

Today 7:20 PM

[You]: im here?

The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.

So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations. 

Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway. 

The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too. 

You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table. 

“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”

He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!

It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway. 

“O–oh, I see.”

The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order. 

Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink. 

“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”

“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”

Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved. 

The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time. 

“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”

“Her husband.”

“I see.”

Silence. 

“How do you know her husband?”

He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either. 

“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”

“Workshop?”

He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence. 

One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave. 

“What kind of cars do you work on?”

“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”

“Have I heard of it?”

“The cars?”

“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”

“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”

You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.

“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”

“Family business?”

“Uh–sort of.” 

“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”

“Is there a problem?”

Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion. 

“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least. 

“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.

“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”

There isn’t much you can do but stare at him. 

“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing. 

“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving. 

Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him. 

“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”

Did he…snort?

“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself. 

“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever. 

“Nothing.”

That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth. 

If he was gonna be rude, you could be too. 

“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”

Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”

“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”

“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”

Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco. 

“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”

“For laughing?”

“And for being obscenely late.”

“And?”

“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”

“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.” 

Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”

“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”

The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”

“More like I don’t care to be personable.”

“That can’t be good for business.”

“The cars speak for themselves.”

He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances. 

“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after. 

“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”

The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”

“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!” 

There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck. 

Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”

The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks. 

“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”

“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”

“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”

Lies, it was entirely her fault. 

Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.

“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"

“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”

“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”

“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”

“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”

“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”

Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside. 

That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire. 

“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”

How fitting. 

“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?” 

You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again. 

Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”

“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact. 

“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”

What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little. 

You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop. 

The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway. 

The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators. 

Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of. 

“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag. 

To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.

“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask. 

“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?” 

No, just a failed love interest.

“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”

“Do you need help with your car?”

“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”

With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside. 

By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things. 

At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.  

“Am I late for something again?” 

Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face. 

“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.

“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”

“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”

He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.

Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all. 

A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage. 

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you. 

You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”

“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.” 

Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”

“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard. 

“So you can fix it?” 

“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”

Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”

“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”

It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”

“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.” 

“Because that’s gonna cost…?”

“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine. 

“But—” That’s it?

“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you. 

“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work. 

The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him. 

Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular. 

Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close. 

“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”

Wonwoo stares pointedly. 

You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”

He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”

“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row. 

Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”

“What does it do?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Touché.” 

Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”

Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”

“You’re impossible.”

He smirks, “Touché.” 

You questioned if this was a mistake. 

Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.

The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course. 

But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again. 

Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke. 

Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t. 

Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…

The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos. 

“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”

“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”

“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”

He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”

“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.

He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”

You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often. 

Goodness, what’s gotten into you.

Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving. 

“Shall we go to the office then?” 

Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra. 

“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”

It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.

“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed. 

Cute. 

There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet. 

You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”

“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”

“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup. 

He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”

You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”

He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side. 

As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”

“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”

“I can make an exception or two,” he grins. 

“And if you charge me double?”

“Might not charge you at all.”

“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space. 

“Might.”

“And what’re the conditions for that?” 

He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”

You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”

He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”

“Hm?”

“Can I? Let you know?” 

It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying. 

“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues. 

You hesitate. “I think so too.”

“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–” 

“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”

He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”

“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”

“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.” 

“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease. 

You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name. 

Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea. 

“Are you doing anything else today?” 

“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”

He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”

You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.

This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.

He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly. 

Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”

He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.

“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”

If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?

“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”

You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside. 

Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt. 

When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay. 

“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”

Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly. 

That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination. 

“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”

He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars. 

There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer. 

“Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”

“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”

You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway. 

“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched. 

“Fuck, yes you can.” 

With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”

You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top. 

Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers. 

You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs. 

Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster. 

“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”

He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace. 

You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth. 

The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees. 

You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy. 

“There,” he pants. “Almost.”

You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly. 

“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”

And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs. 

The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support. 

“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him. 

He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”

You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”

And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you. 

And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash. 

[charmedreincarnation]

MAYA, I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE!!!!

Okay, I don't know if you remember me, but I participated in a lot of your challenges and the Pink’s challenge, and I found some success! I shifted to my wr and manifested some things, but I could never do it consistently, and it was really fucking annoying.

So, I took three months off and worked hard, using subliminals every day and going on affirmation rampages. I was doing lucid dreaming methods, SATs, meditations, yoga nidra, reading spiritual books literally my whole summer was dedicated to shifting and the void state. I was eat sleeping and breathing it because I could not continue to live the way I was even I can even consider that living …

So What did I do

I just followed your challenge because college was starting, and I couldn't go back to school without my dream life for the fourth time, fearing I might actually harm myself. So played the fields with this rampage (together in two different tabs).

During the Day

https://youtu.be/aLsn6ZK4RZ8?si=Dt_j7ChLjNsQ6tpV

https://youtu.be/gBD4Owz1GC0?si=icOkN1DoFsqP-adT

During the day, I would live in the end. I created albums for my desired realities, re-read my scripts, revised my void list because I genuinely believed I was going to succeed, watched supercell shifting videos on YouTube, and stared at my vision board, realizing it was going to be my life the next day, and more!

Overnight

https://youtu.be/JwV297pP9aw?si=Sxx-xlhE_owInoxH

https://youtu.be/DKB5I9y8SEg?si=PI-UaNw2m_VUWYy1

What I Manifested

- Master shifting abilities

- Master void state abilities

- Having my WR to be a perfect heaven

- Making this current reality a dream: desired looks, desired body, never gaining weight, revised wealth and family, dream friend group, a social media following, being worshipped and respected, being so beautiful by my own standards, dream home (I have a mountain range that goes through my backyard and a farm on my land, it’s enormous), revised city, only attracting wealthy, tall, attractive men, pretty privilege, 145 IQ, going to an Ivy League, getting rid of my anxiety and depression, getting rid of my health issues, no toxic family, so much money, and revised my name to Bella because I love Bella Hadid (my old name was Audrey), and so much more.

I know it sounds nothing too crazy compared to other people who manifest powers and trillions of dollars, but I can shift anytime I want. I’m going to my singing desired reality and high school musical Dr soon and I am so excited I have hundreds of places to explore. My life here finally has stability, and I’m so happy. Not waking up with stress, nausea, and diarrhea is a blessing. My house is clean, my family members aren’t fighting and calling me names, my siblings and I are close. I audibly gasp anytime I see myself in the mirror. My phone is always blowing up with people asking me for plans when it used to be dry as hell, and people forgot I even existed. Everywhere I go, people tell me I should model, want to pay for what I’m buying, are so kind, open doors for me, want to help me for no reason, give me discounts, ask me on dates… I’m so happy and confused. I don’t know how to feel. I am genuinely so loved and respected, and on top of that, I get to explore the universe of my favorite shows and movies.

I’m so glad I never gave up, even though these three months were hard and my life had gotten worse, I am finally free, my hard work paid off, and I hope everyone else will do the same. We truly are God! I was afraid this community was some big joke and big bloggers were creative writers or just laughing at delusional people like me, but I can confirm it’s very, very real.

My love I am so proud of you ! And yes I vaguely remember you and your first shift you messaged me about :)!

I am happy your hard work paid off as well. I remember when everything seemed so meaningless and delusional as well and I also thought shifting was some big joke to target mentally ill teens, but the reality is we truly are all god and no amount of doubt and struggle will ever change that truth. I hope you enjoy your dream life, and I am happy I could help 💖

[hello-nichya-here]

Did Sia insult topic of autism somehow?

Oh honey, it's sooooooooo much worse than that.

Sia wanted to make a movie about an autistic girl that manages to connect to people/feel safe and confident through music. So far, nothing outrageous, just a simple concept that would obviously put Sia's music front and center while doing something nice and educating people on autism.

There was controversy about her not casting an autistic actress as it would have been nice representation, but she could have totally gotten away with that since, come on, hollywood hasn't even figured out Rain Man isn't exactly true to life, they're not ready to have an autistic person playing an autistic character. Baby steps.

The real problem started when Sia started promoting the "charity/support group" that was helping "educate" her on the topic to make the movie. The "charity" in question was Autism Speaks - which is absolutely HATED by the autistic community for things like:

1 - Spreading the myth that autism is a mental illness that one can develop/catch like the freaking flue and potentially be cured of, instead of a neurotype, aka something starts in the woomb and cannot be "cured" because to do that you'd need to replace someone's entire nervous system, which is impossible.

2 - Using that myth to get outrageous amounts of money from people so they "search for a cure" - that doesn't exist and will never exist because curing autism is biologically impossible, AND despite the fact that the overwhelming majority of autistic people don't even want to be "cured" (plus, since said "cure" would essentially mean giving the person a new brain, it leads to the question of "Would I even be the same person, or would that just kill and replace me?")

3 - Using the myth of "We don't know what causes autism" (we do, it's genetic) to, of course, get MORE money from people so they can "do research to find the missing puzzle piece" (if you ever see autistic people complaining about a puzzle piece being used to represent the condition, that's why, it was started by Autism Speak's massive disinformation campains).

4 - Falsely "confirming" things like soy milk cause autism with one of the world's most ridiculous "research", losing only to "vaccines totally make kids autistic, buy MY vaccine instead, guys, I am totally not an unbelievably biased person, it's ALL the other doctors/scientists lying to you. GIVE ME MONEY!"

5 - Pushing the narrative of "autism is inherently a tragedy" to distract from the fact that all the money they waste on stupid shit could be used to help autistic people and their families. Instead, they focus on creating more and more panic, making parents in particular despair even more - to the point that one of their "awareness videos" includes a mother talking about how she wants to murder her autistic daughter and then kill herself... while sitting right next to said daughter.

6 - Promoting ABA "therapy" - which was created by the same guy responsible for the attrocity that is gay conversion "therapy." Both have led to unbelievably high rates of confirmed PTSD and suicidal ideation in patients (victims), and ABA in particular has been compared to literal dog training. Very fitting since it was created by a guy who famously did not believe autistic people truly counted as thinking, feeling human beings, and said as much several times. Despite that, it is still praised by some utter bastards because "it makes the patients act less autistic when they're not crying in the corner or trying to jump out a window"

So yeah, working with these guys is a genuinely horrible thing to do since they're basically a scam/hate group pretending to be a charity - and people were STILL willing to give Sia the benefit of the doubt, since Autism Speak uses all their resources to make sure they're the first thing people see when looking up how to help autistic people.

Lots of Sia's fans, both autistic and allistic, warned her repeatedly, politely, that she needed to supporting them IMMEDIATELY as their goal was the exact opposite of the one she claimed to have - aka raise awareness through an accurate portrail of autism. People were even kind enough to name organizations like ASAN as replacements to help her fix any damage done to the project.

And instead of being a decent human being, Sia decided to cry on twitter about how the mean retar-I mean, autistics were bullying her even when she was so kindly using them for her vanity project.

Because yes, that's how the movie turned out. An unwatcheable piece of garbage, with the autistic "character" being so fucking bad even the people who actively use "autistic" as insulted being offended on our behalf - and of course, she was used just a prop to show how awesome Sia's character was.

Seriously, it was so bad the actress playing the autistic girl was sobbing in between scenes because she knew how it was horrible and she didn't want to insult anyone, but Sia is literally her godmother and helped her career by putting her in nearly all her music videos so she felt obligated to go along with it.

So yeah, fuck Sia and fuck Autism Speaks.

[ihrtnjm]

be alright - pjs

synopsis: y/n and jisung navigate their relationship with fame and fortune. pairing: idol!fem!reader x backupdancer!jisung (nct) genre: fluff, slight angst? content: weird fans, tweets, protective manager doyoung, popcrave LMAO, anxious ji, slightly suggestive comment from reader, implied reader shorter than jisung, otherwise super fluffy stuff! wc: 14,892 a/n: this took me quite literally a year to finish but if you want more of this i’m willing to make a part two! you can tell where i lost steam, but this was too cute i had to finish it! all images not mine!

｡ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆

as the crowd roars, you take in the energy and adrenaline from the performance. the crowd chants your name, begging for more of you and your presence. you smile back at the audience, gaining yet another roar from the crowd. your backup dancers start to get up from their formations and begin to return to the dressing rooms, but you stay behind to do your ment. 

“hello seoul!” you cheer and wave, the crowd cheering back in response. “it’s so great to be here! i’ve had such an amazing time these past few days. your energy is unmatched!” you keep smiling, because the crowd keeps cheering for you. even after being a musician for years, you’ve never gotten tired of the craziness, chaos, and crowds. you reach for your water bottle at the edge of the stage and take a sip. 

“my heart feels so full being able to perform in front of you guys. it’s been a while, but working hard to meet you guys is so worth it. i hope you enjoy the rest of the concert!” you bow and wave to the crowd as you head back to your dressing room. you hear a vcr clip playing as you’re rushed off stage. you find your manager, doyoung at your side and the concert director keeping tabs on what’s next. 

out of the corner of your eye, you find your boyfriend jisung running the next few dances by himself. you’ve been dating jisung for almost a year – and you don’t regret it one bit. sure, it took some convincing from doyoung’s end (“you’re dating who?!”), but he eventually understood. 

you are immediately swept to your changing room, changing into your next outfit. stylists and makeup artists swarm around you as they adjust your outfit. the next few minutes feel like a blur – a good blur – and before you even realize it, you’re headed back to the side of the stage ready to perform the rest of your songs. 

you finally make eye contact with jisung, who is on the other side of the stage. he smiles, and waves gently at you. grinning, you wave back at him. jisung has always been your biggest fan – from being a main background dancer to many of your songs, to sneakily going to your schedules acting as your crew (i mean, not wrong), he’s never tired of loving you and your growth as an idol. 

“you got this!” jisung mouths at you, giving you a thumbs up in support. in reply, you smile and give him a thumbs up. the moment the vcr ends, you’re headed back to the stage and the song starts. the lights turn different colors and your in ear monitor counts off your music. 

suddenly, you're in your zone. you sing and dance around the stage, performing your heart out. moving through the setlist, you go through the motions and feel the adrenaline of performing run through your veins. 

–

after the concert your team heads out for drinks, but you opt out to spend the rest of the evening with jisung as doyoung drops the both of you off at your penthouse. as the three of you head back to your penthouse, you’re stopped by doyoung before you head back into your humble abode.

“are you sure you don’t want to go out? you usually do.” doyoung asks you, raising his eyebrow in suspicion. he looks back at jisung, who rests on your couch. doyoung, in particular, has been protective of you and who you date. heartbreak after heartbreak, doyoung can’t help but look out for you. however, this time with much reluctance, he eventually comes around with jisung.

“yes, doyoung. trust me, you guys deserve the break and i’m sure you’re all tired of me. it's been a crazy few weeks for everyone and you especially deserve it.” you reply, slowly pushing doyoung out of your home. 

doyoung glances back at you and jisung, who is a bit intimidated by the manager.

“alright fine, but no fishy stuff, you got it? if you even do something to her, you're out.” he directs at jisung, pointing a finger at him. meanwhile, jisung is extremely flustered at the idea of them getting caught doing god knows what by doyoung, eyes wide and cheeks red. you glance back at doyoung with disgust.

“doyoung please, we'll be fine. now go and have fun!” you push him out of your home.

“fine, fine. good night guys, and great job today!” at last doyoung leaves your apartment leaving you and jisung alone. you shut the door and lean on it, giving jisung a cheeky grin.

“thank goodness,” you say with a sign of relief. you plop yourself onto your couch and see jisung fiddling with a small box. you peer over to get a closer look of what he’s holding. 

“ji, what’s that?” you ask, shuffling towards him and sitting next to him. he shyly gives you the box, geturing you to open it which reveals a beautiful bracelet. you gasp in shock, holding the box as if it’ll shatter into pieces.

“i thought that since you’ve been working so hard lately, you deserved this. i also have a matching one.” jisung smiles as he lifts up his sleeve to reveal a matching bracelet on his wrist.

“oh baby, you didn’t have to,” you softly say, “i wish i could give you something as well. i love it.” you reach over to hug him tightly. once you let go, you take your hands to his cheeks and kiss him. his hands land on your hips as the kiss gets more passionate. you let go, facing jisung.

“y’know, doyoung would kill you if he saw this.” you joke, letting your fingers linger around jisung’s hair, moving the stray strands off his face. he kisses your cheeks and lastly on your lips.

“yeah, but he isn’t here so it doesn’t matter.” he quietly remarks, ghosting his lips closely to yours. 

“that’s true.” you whisper, making the move to kiss him yet again. you feel him kiss your cheeks, down to your neck, and all over you. he shows you that you are loved, and that you’ve worked so hard these past few weeks preparing for your concert. you feel his hands wander around your body and let the touches linger as he leaves each kiss throughout your neck and nape, and comes back up to your lips. 

the rest of the night is kept to you two as you order takeout, watch a movie, and play video games with each other. it isn’t much, but after weeks of working your asses off you can’t help but be content with your life and where you are.

–

@.y/n.confessions: [submitted] anyone else notice all these lovey-dovey lyrics and the matching jewelry based on jisung’s posts? don’t get me wrong, i love it, but there’s no way y/n isn’t seeing a certain someone at the moment…

@.y/nupdates: guys, please don't speculate about y/n’s relationships! she'll let us know when she's ready ^^

@.jenonators4evr: okay but if y/n’s dating jeno, then we're gonna have issues 😡

@.PopCrave: Y/N and dancer, Park Jisung are seen on a date at a restaurant in Seoul.

@.y/nista: omg who's the guy that she's with? and why's he kinda 👀👀👀

@.ilovey/n: guys we should just respect y/n and jisung…if you were them you wouldn't like someone all up in your business like this

@.shootersfory/n: WHOS THE GUY THATS WITH Y/N AND WHY ISNT IT ME?????

as he scrolls through twitter, jisung’s brain floods with a million thoughts. 

“these tweets are ridiculous. do you think we should say something?”

as he scrolls through tweet after tweet, you’re getting ready for dance practice. you adjust your outfit in the mirror. you head back to the living room couch and sit closely to jisung. you lean over to see what he’s been reading.

“this is something my pr team might have to handle.” you bite your lip in nervousness. he scrolls through the tweets as he rests his head on your shoulder. he knows he will never get the brunt of it. he's not in the limelight as intensely as you are, but he sees the anxiety cloud your thoughts. 

“you think so?” he asks. 

“i know so.” you reply. “i don't want either of us making a statement that isn't okay with both of us.” you turn back to look at his anxious face. your heart breaks in guilt as you take it in. you never wanted this life for him – you know for sure that it is all your fault. was this the life you wanted to rope jisung into?

after a pregnant pause, “i-i’m sorry,” you stammer, sitting up to face him. “all of this is my fault. i never wanted any of this for you.” you feel your eyes tear up and your voice shake. is this the future of your relationship? is this what life has paved for you?

“honey, wait,” jisung stops, taking his large hands into your face, holding it gently. “it's not your fault. this is just a hurdle we have to jump through. like you said, we can work with your pr team to handle it. you're not alone. we're a team.” he makes sure to keep his eyes on yours the entire time. you look back at him with glassy eyes and sniffle. you nod and kiss him on the cheek. 

“ji, you know i love you, right?” you ask him, putting your hands on top of his.

“i’ll love you always.”  “now come on, let’s head to practice.”

when you two get up from the sofa and out of the door, jisung turns back to you. “did you see that tweet asking who i was? that was hilarious.”

“it was, but at the end of the day you’re in my bed.” you reply cheekily with a smug smile on your face.

“augh, don’t ever do that again!” jisung says with light disgust, cringing at your comment.

“you know you liked it!” you chuckle to yourself. oh, jisung. you look back at jisung as he stands patiently in the elevator to the lobby. despite all the odds, park jisung has stolen your heart.

–

as you and jisung walk around hongdae in your masks and glasses, you spot an arcade along with photobooths galore. strewn with all kinds of headbands, wigs, and accessories, your eyes widen in interest. 

“ji, check it out! i’ve been wanting to do this forever, can we?” you plead, giving your best sad dog eyes you can under your glasses. jisung can’t help but smile at your cuteness. he takes his hands and cradles your face, squishing your cheeks. 

“of course.” he smiles, letting you lead each other into the arcade. he opens the door for you, and you take note of the small but kind gesture. you lead him into the photobooth area, and look through the accessories provided by the arcade. you give each other silly headbands and sunglasses, and head into the booth.

you two do cute poses, but the one that truly lights your heart on fire is when he takes one hand on your waist, and one on your unmasked cheek and steals a kiss on your lips. despite the fact that you’ve been dating jisung for a year, he never fails to make you blush. he lets go after the photos are done, and smiles at you. 

“now what was that for?” you smile, looking up at him. 

“no reason. i just love you so much.” he replies, putting one of his hands on your cheek. even though his demeanor is calm and cool, his heart is beating wildly. he wishes he could give you the world, but yet he feels like not enough. you were more than his world, more than his everything. 

“honey, you don’t have to worry about us, y/n. we’ll be alright.” jisung states. “i will make sure we have everything in our favor, and that you get the peace and quiet you deserve.” he takes off all the silly accessories and leads you two out of the booth, with no masks or sunglasses. you two could care less about the world around you two, all smiles. 

“i love you so much, ji.”

-

@.CharmEntertainment: A Statement from Charm Entertainment and Y/N 

Hello, this is Charm Entertainment. We are confirming Y/N’s relationship with her partner, Park Jisung. They have been dating for more than one year, and are content in their relationship. We ask that you respect their privacy and relationship. We will be seeking legal action to protect Y/N and Park Jisung against any hate messages and speech. Thank you for supporting Y/N, and we hope that you continue to support her in the future. 

@.y/nofficially:  hello, this is y/n.

i want to be as transparent as possible, but i also understand this must be overwhelming for everyone. i’ve been dating jisung for about a year now, and this has been some of the best months of my life. i’ve never been happier, and i hope everyone respects our relationship. i won’t apologize for being in a relationship, because no one deserves to be sorry for loving someone. i ask that you respect both our privacy at this time and from now on. thank you to my fans for always being there for me, and words cannot express my gratitude for all the support these past years. i hope you can continue supporting me in the future. 

thank you so much <3

@.the__and.y: this is jisung.

first, i just want to apologize for any inconvenience i’ve caused. with that being said, i’ve been in a content relationship with y/n for about a year now, and i’ve been so blessed to be with a woman as amazing as her. she has helped me learn so much, but i won’t apologize for being in a relationship. please respect our relationship and privacy, and thank you to those supporting me. 

@.y/n4lyfe: i think we all owe y/n and jisung an apology, we don’t deserve them at all especially for the statements made!

@.idolconfessing: tell me why charm ent ate up with that statement, some companies could never! 

@.jisungsupdate: jisung didn’t deserve to apologize for anything! you’re all so foul!

-

as you scroll through the messages on your fan pages, you can’t help but smile from ear to ear. as you lay on the practice room floor, you read message after message. you giggle at some tweets and posts, not noticing jisung smiling at you. 

“honey, didn’t the company tell you not to be on your phone for the time being?” he asks concernedly, sitting up next to you. he strokes your hair, and you dodge his hand.

“jiiii, i’m sweaty!” you whine, rolling away from him. “and yes, they did, but some of them are kind of funny. can you blame me? tell me you aren’t curious about the vibe.” you reply, looking back at him from the floor. 

“i am, but i’m just worried about the negative comments. i just worry for you, baby.” he says back, lying down next to you. you look at him with endearment. he never fails to look out for you. you place your phone down, and you move closer to him.

“i’m fine ji, but thank you. like you said, we’ll be alright.” you recall. snuggling closer to him, laying your head on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat. you close your eyes flutter shut, before promptly interrupted by doyoung. 

“y/n, did you get my message about the- ah.” doyoung pauses at the entrance, hand steady on the doorknob. you two immediately sit up and away from each other, flushed with the sudden entrance. 

“sorry doyoung,” you mutter with flushed cheeks, “you said you sent something?” you reach back for your phone and scroll through your notifications to see what he was talking about. 

“uh yeah, but i’ll just leave you two to do what you were doing,” he replies, closing the door with no hesitation. sure, doyoung has been lenient with you two, but he feels like he is constantly interrupting you two.

“my god doyoung, we didn’t do anything!” you shout back with cheeks even more red than ever, hands resting on your forehead. 

“baby, it’s okay,” jisung giggles, “just chill with me.” he guides you back to the floor, and you two resume what you were previously doing. 

you two were going to be alright.

if you read this far and enjoyed the fic, reblog and follow me for more!

[acradelius]

Can I request some 049 x female Reader headcanons where the Reader is pregnant with 049’s child?

"We're Expecting! Don't Tell The O5 Council!"

Fandom: Secure. Contain. Protect. (SCP)

Pairing: SCP-049 ("Doctor") x Female! Researcher! Reader

Rating: Lime [🟢] - (Equivalent to PG-13)

Warnings/Mention Ofs: Human! Reader, Researcher! Reader, Human x SCP, Human x SCP Relationship, AFAB! Reader, Female Pronouns Used For Reader, Unexpected Pregnancy, Most Likely Post! Contaiment Breach, Slightly Overprotective Doctor, Very Involved Parental! Doctor, Internally "Paranoid"! Doctor, Limited "Normal" Pregnancy Customs.

Word Count: 873 Words

If you'd like to be tagged for all posts, certain fandom posts, or certain character posts then feel free to message me!

There wasn’t much doubt that amongst the scale of ‘Definitely Not Human-Like’ to ‘As Human As Could Possibly Be, But Still Not Actually Human’, Doctor was more so teetering towards the edge of being more human-like than majority of the other S.C.P. beings that were also residing within the containment site, even still after the initial breach. That didn’t stop the researcher, (Y/N), from initiating a relationship with the Doctor, and eventually it became as intimate as it possibly could have. Despite that intimacy, there wasn’t necessarily ever a thought that a pregnancy between Doctor and (Y/N) could possibly happen, at least until viewing the results of the pregnancy tests that (Y/N) had taken. While there was some initial anxiety when it came to telling Doctor, he was actually pretty excited about the news! 

While within the early stages of their relationship Doctor had respected (Y/N)’s boundaries for space and privacy, now that she’s carrying their child, there’s not really such a thing as space and privacy anymore. (Y/N) couldn’t even make the five steps from Doctor’s desk to the bathroom within his laboratory without him jumping up to assist her. “Are you doing well, Chère? Do you need any assistance? Is there anything concerning the baby?” With that being said, the security around the laboratory is increased as well. There’s also more reanimated subjects that are placed around the laboratory, and even the most common places that (Y/N) typically ventures to and from, for an extra form of protection. It had gotten to the point that Doctor had to venture through the site looking for something, but didn’t want to disturb (Y/N) from their nap, so he had one of the subjects lay in the bed with her for protection.

Doctor is absolutely involved with the baby, ever since the moment that (Y/N) had revealed to him that she was pregnant with his child. He would spend literal hours just reading out loud to her and the child, whether it be his own research papers, random magazine pages found strewn across hallway floors, or would even spend time reading the files based on his other S.C.P. companions. It’s the same thing when it comes to listening to music, even if it’s various languages that (Y/N)’s unfamiliar with or hasn’t even heard of before. Doctor swears that while he hasn’t had any children before, that he’s done his fair share of research when it comes to pregnancies and even early childhood education, though (Y/N) is a bit unsure since it’s been quite some time since Doctor has been within the general public, especially in today’s day and age. He claims that it’s critical, and a long term benefit, that a developing baby experiences these things.

This pregnancy is definitely something more than just a generic pregnancy for Doctor, but he’s not going to make that known to (Y/N) unless he absolutely has to. As stated above, he’s never had a child before, and hasn’t came across anyone else like himself, so he’s unaware of what to actually expect when it comes to someone like him having a child within someone such as her. He’s not just monitoring the basic and typical pregnancy symptoms and such when it comes to watching over his beloved and her pregnancy. Secretly, he’s also monitoring for any abnormalities, anything that could end up becoming alarming or dangerous for (Y/N) or the baby, and even both. He doesn’t want to lose either of them, and therefore he would rather be able to take the risk of doing this part of the monitoring in secret if that means making sure that (Y/N) and their baby is doing well. While he was alone for the majority of his life before she had come along, Doctor isn’t sure if he would be able to continue on if he was to lose her.

Whenever (Y/N)’s due date, or at least an estimate of when the due date would be, there’s only a certain few other S.C.P. beings that Doctor is comfortable with her being around, even if she’s interacted with them for quite some time before the initial breach. He doesn’t want to take any chances with something happening to (Y/N) or the baby, especially with how sporadic and violent some of them can be. He only wants those that he can absolutely trust to be around them, at least at first, those that he knows will also do their best to make sure that things are going smoothly and stress-free. (Y/N) mentioned how this was slightly unfair once and therefore (Y/N) was only allowed to interact with who he didn’t deem safe enough through the intercom to his laboratory, or writing to each other with erasable markers on the window. This even means creating a whole different room or section of the site that Doctor’s located within to treat his “patients”, as he wants to make sure that the environment is going to be safe and sterile, or as sterile as it can be, for a safe, healthy delivery of his beloved little baby to be.

[itsbeenmyhonor]

i saw an instagram post of this ballet couple and it's actually making me feral ????? i didn't know i needed a "riorgail as ballet dancers" fantasy but oh my god ?????? hold on tight y'all.

imagine:

empty studios with low lights, late at night. he's in nothing but tight shorts and she's in her leotard. the room is warm, always so warm. but they don't care and have been in there for ages, even after their hours of other rehearsals for the day. she's a soloist and he's a principal with the company and he has made it his personal mission to help her ascend the ranks since she was in the corps and he was a soloist because he truly believes in her talent. it doesn't matter how tired he is, he will always stays late with her to work on technique, partnering, whatever she wants, but only when she asks. he's always praising her and constantly finding any excuse to call her pretty through complementing how she moves. he's loves teaching her new skills and gets so excited the first time she nails them, which is usually faster than the average dancer because she's so dedicated. and his heart sings every time she says she can't wait to show him how much better one of them has gotten since last time he saw her do it. and she teaches him too, each of their little meetings is full of choreography she dreams up, trying it out with him to see what works and what doesn't. this is how they truly learn each other's minds, bodies, souls. what the art really means to them, what they mean to each other. it's no surprise that they dance their very best with each other because they have the most trust in one another. whether it's in front of an audience or just the two of them, they always have an electric chemistry, gibing each other everything in their performances, even when it's only for a mirror. AND THE MIRROR! don't even get me started! constantly staring. like always. warming up, class, rehearsals, their own little practice sessions. always. she's stabbed herself with a needle while sewing the ribbons onto her pointe shoes before because she got distracted when she caught his gaze in the mirror. and they always stand next to each other at barre. they usually get there early to stretch together and talk before class prevents them from doing so for a couple hours. and they're also usually struggling not to get distracted in said class but they can't imagine standing apart for that long. and when they're in different rehearsals throughout the day, they make up for it by spending hours with their hands on each other after. bare chest, open back leotard. hand in hand, to balance her or with her fingers wrapped around his to do a turn. quite literally throwing her around sometimes in various lifts. he's never dropped her. he refuses to. and sometimes they have moments while practicing their pas de deuxs where they'll abandon the choreography completely and just dance. something sacred in how it's unrehearsed and unhurried. two forms intertwining as one within whatever classical music envelops them that night. she somehow always ends up lifted into his arms. he slides her down his body and pulls her into the most soul-crushingly beautiful kiss. she often tries to rise up onto her toes to meet him and even though she's still shorter than he is, the angle is always just perfect. that part is very well rehearsed. and when it's done and they're breathless from the dancing or the utter lack there of, he'll help her untie the ribbons around her ankles and knead at her calves, kneeling between the straddle she makes with her legs to stretch as she digs her fingers into some place in his neck that feels divine every time. they press their sweat slicked foreheads together, just breathing, sometimes dotting balm onto each other to help their sore muscles. she always bundles both of them up in their layers so their muscles don't get cold on the way home and forces him to drink water on the way out because he forgets in his desire to make sure she's taken care of first. and they do it all again the next day. <3

[soojinieshifts]

INTRO TO…

MY LE SSERAFIM DR

Hana Arie Anná, mononymously known as Ari, is a Chinese actress, singer, and rapper of girl group LE SSERAFIM under HYBE’s Subsidiary Label Source Music. She had her solo debut on June 12, 2024 with the mini album “Dark Dreams”.

!★☆ 𝑨𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑴𝒆

#☆…! Name: Han Arie Anná

#☆…!Stage Name: Ari

#☆…!Race: Asian

#☆…!Gender: Female

#☆…!Sexuality: Lesbian

#☆…!Pronouns: She/her

#☆…!Birthday: June 10, 2002

#☆…!Age: 21

#☆…!Zodiac sign: Gemini

#☆…!Place of birth: Wuhan, China

#☆…!Siblings: Kevin, Rachel, handong, xiaojun, ningmei (twin sister)

!★☆ 𝑰𝑫𝑶𝑳 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑭𝑭!!

#☆…!Brands: Chanel, Calvin Klein, Adidas, and Sanrio

#☆…!Positions: Lead Rapper, Lead Dancer, Sub-Vocalist, Center, and Producer

#☆…!Titles: Chinas Princess, Face of China, 4th gen’s hot girl, 4th gen rapper, 4th gen it girl

#☆…!Solo fandom: Ariboos

#☆…!Rep. Emoji: 🦊

#☆…!Projects: GLITZY! by Girls Generation (ft. ARI of LE SSERAFIM) - 2022, Dream Girl by Chungha (ft. ARI of LE SSERAFIM) - 2023, Diamond by KAZUHA (ft. YEJI of ITZY and ARI of LE SSERAFIM) - 2024 , Luv Me by JENNIE (ft. ARI of LE SSERAFIM) - 2023, Wish You hell (My pre release single before my solo debut) - 2024, DARK DREAMS (my official solo debut!) - 2024 , Magic by nayeon (ft. ARI of LE SSERAFIM) - 2024

#☆…!Trainee time : 6 years and 3 months

!★☆ 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒔!!

🐯Chaewon — Best friends! Was close during her Iz*one days and have gotten stronger since. SHES ALSO THE MOST DELUSIONAL BITCH YOU WILL EVER MEET LIKE MY GOD. She has an obsession with gummy bears and other fruity candy currently. And she’s back with her ex (this is a good thing! I love them together!) so she’s finally stopped screaming ripping her hair out over her! I love giving her songs to cover cause it’s fun. And her vocal tone makes me ascend to the heavens tbh.

🌸Sakura — THIS IS MY MOM!! I actually love Sakura so much and I’m so mad that freaking swing RUINED her voice. Her natural voice is so pretty and I used to have her sing me lullabies back when I was scared to sleep alone because of the massive hate I got in 2022. She’s so amazing and it makes me so sad that people don’t see it and I love her talent and wished she didn’t feel the pressure to be the best all the time. I love her and Mina together (I want them to adopt me.) but I don’t love seeing them make out in the living room. I watched her once fall to her news because of my “alleged” project with Sabrina carpenter as she proceeded to beg me to take her to meet her…..(I did).

🦒Yunjin — SIGHHHH. Jennifer huh…(or as I call her Jenni!). We started off as basically attached by the hip,! Like this girl was my best friend fr and then we started dating 😭 (she asked me out in the most craziest way tbh…). Probably one of the most amazing things ever cause she was literally the most perfect gf….until she wasn’t. Long story short: we broke up and it was messy as shit. Then I got with ryujin and She started getting mad at me for weird reasons and then we were back to best friends like we used to be…AND THEN ON FREAKING TOUR SHE TOLD ME SHE WANTED ME BACK EVEN THOUGH SHE KNOWS IM HAPPY WITH RYUJIN??? Long story short….we’re just friends now but not as close as once were and it makes me sad cause..Jenni ☹️😞

🦢Kazuha — MY ZUHAAAAA MY SWEET SWEET BABY!! I actually was the main one who talked to her during trainee days and we still are just as close! This is basically my little sister and when she had her solo debut I freaking SOBBED because of the song she made for me :(. She’s my sweet little swan and has a very big collection of white tennis shoes…SHE ALSO STARTED DATING BELLE FROM KIOF AND I ABSOLUTELY LOCE THEM!! Ballerina and the princess is what they are.

🐈Eunchae — so this is my daughter Eunchae!! I’m not joking when I say I spoil and baby her. She’s literally my little and I just love her and her chubby lil cheekies. She goes through weird phases like how she used to always say “Gyatt” whenever I walked in the room….She always comes to me mainly whenever she’s overwhelmed or when things do become too much for her and I try my best to make sure she gets to live her life as a kid since she still is one. She has had a few cutie crushes on ppl but I don’t think she’ll date anyone right now. (And she’s scared to date rn…)

!★☆ 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬!

#☆…!Friends: NingNing, Seijun, Jennie, Jungkook, Soyeon, Hobi, Beomgyu, Felix, Jisung, Yeji, Garam, Jaylie, Natty, Jiheon, Maeyo, Keeho, Nabi, River, Reverie

#☆…!Gf: Ryujin of ITZY

#☆…!Exes: Jurin (2021-2021), Yunjin (2022-2024 I think ???)

[lunatic-pudge]

Postal Dude SFW and NSFW Headcanons

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I love Postal Dude. He reminds me a lot of Sniper, so that might not help. These can apply to basically any version of Dude you want, but I tend to use PD2 as the default Dude. Those some things would probably be different for PD1.

So yeah, I got stuff that I need to finish working on. I'm halfway done with this one TF2 ask I got. So Imma try to finish that up ASAP.

And warning for sexual stuff and mentions of violence, but considering that this is Postal, the violence part shouldn't be too much of a bother

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SFW

-Oh boy oh boy, where do I even begin with my baby boy Dude. Postal was something I always had a slight intrest in but now it hit me full force so here we are. Plus he's got some similarities to Sniper as well so it doesn't help either. I can't control myself anymore. I need this man pregnant and i need it NOW!

-But anyways, Imma start throwing some stuff out there. This poor babe has been through it. He's been through Hell and back, literally.  He's gotten better over the years, but there are times where things feel like they're getting worse again. He's gotten better with dealing with it. Though, he's not the best when comforting his partner if they're struggling mentally. He tries his best, but he's just so unsure of what to do. He's good at sitting with you, having an arm wrapped around you as you hold onto him, venting your problems out. It's easy for him to be a listening ear. Any advice from him is probably not good advice. If there's something you want, he'll get it for you. A blanket? Done. Some ice cream? Okay, what flavor. It's the little things

-If you wanna be with this mess of a man, you gotta be semi comfortable with the violence. He's gonna be coming home almost every night covered in blood, acting like he didn't just kill someone over a doughnut. And you gotta be comfortable with his massive collection of weapons. He'll teach you how to use them so you can protect yourself if he isn't around.

-Which leads me to the fact that he WILL kill for you. Whether it'd be to protect you, to prove that he loves you, or even out of jealousy. He can be convinced to not kill someone but it does take some persuasion. He just wants to keep you safe, and he trusts no one but you, especially since the people of Paradise are rather "interesting". Though, he might just wait for you to be out of sight to kill the person you wanted spared... Oops...

-His love language is acts of services and physical touch. Homie won't be able to keep his hands off you. Sexual or not, he NEEDS to feel you. It makes him feel sane to know you're there and real. And if you need help with something, he's there to help you with it. He'd love it if you'd go on errands with him. It'd make things less boring AND it means more time to spend with you

-Also, to be with this man means Champ needs to approve of you first. Champ is his baby, so if Champ doesn't like you then clearly you aren't worth his time. But if Champ approves of you and you love and spoil him, then you might just be marriage material

-He's such a goofball. He'll be constantly teasing you. Not a day goes by where he isn't lovingly tormenting you over something dumb. He does it cause he loves you. He means no harm with it and will let off it if asked. Don't let him know about any sensitive or ticklish spots of yours cause he WILL be using those spots against you

-Very big on being able to laze around with you and doing nothing. Laying together on the bed or couch, alcohol and snacks readily available, and music playing in the background. He's a bully in a sense where he would want his music playing, claiming to have good taste in music. So hopefully, you like the same music as him. So stuff like Tool, Nine Inch Nails, KMFDM, etc. (Though in my own little world, I could see him crying over Mitski, plz don't judge)

-If you're a crafty person and you make something for him, he could cry from how happy it makes him. He loves seeing you work your stuff. Doesn't matter what it is (drawing, painting, sewing, crocheting,  etc.) he likes watching. It's calming to him. He'd def cry if you made anything Champ related. If you draw or paint, youre art is getting hung up on the walls. If you sew, knit, or crochet and you make him or Champ something to wear, then they'll be wearing what you made them proudly. Though he won't wear said stuff outside cause he doesn't wanna dirty them. He'd feel bad for ruing all your hard work

-Have I mentioned how spoiled he is yet? Cause he is. He's a very needy baby. Constantly wanting your time, attention, and affection. Almost never giving you a second of privacy cause he needs to be in your personal bubble. Oh, you locked the bathroom door so you could enjoy a bath in peace for once? Too bad, cause Dude's already picked the lock and hanging out with you. And if you don't stop him, he'll join you in the tub, with or without clothes on. He's essentially a cat that will scratch at the door til you let him in. If you're at work or he's running errands, he'll be texting you nonstop. Keeping you updated on the chaos he's causing and spamming you with Champ pics.

-He also has an abundance of photos of you. Some of just you doing whatever (yes even sleeping), you and Champ, you and Dude, and even all three of you together. You may not even know all of the photos he has of you. And yes, he will show you off, proud he has such a baddie and no one else does. But you also need to know that he isn't scared to take some of the worst photos of you. We're talk 0.5x forehead photos that make it look like you got a big ass forehead. He doesn't care. He loves everything about you and nothing will change that.

-Love seeing you wear his clothes. He thinks it's so cute how big his shirts look on you, the smaller you are, the better. He's very encouraging of you wearing his clothes. Sometimes, it gets him a little too excited, especially when you don't wear any pants, may God help you when that happens...

NSFW

-Loves biting you, once he starts he can't stop. He will have you marked up from head to toe by the time he's done with you. He would like it if you did the same to him. He'll ecourage you to leave some extra marks on him and especially his more sensitive areas. Same rules apply for scratching as well. He loves seeing the all the bites, bruises, and scratches you leave on him. And he feels such pride when he sees them on you

-He's the perfect person to have a hand kink for. He's got them long, spidery fingers that can leave goosebumps along your skin. He'd gladly shove his fingers down your throat if you want. His hands do tend to be littered with cuts and burns but don't think that will stop anything. The extra pain adds to the experience for him

-Yeha, he's kind of a masochist. There's just something about the way you inflict pain on him that gets him going. You could come up behind him and bite him and that's all you need to do for him to get the message. He will let you WRECK him however you want

-Does like degraded by only a little bit. He wants to be called a slut and to be told how vile he is for wanting to be used like a toy. But sometimes he has limits. He does need praises though. He could go on for hours praising you, and he would like to be able to be praised as well. He'd rather be praised than degraded. Especially during aftercare. Tell him how much of a good boy he is and how well he did. He'll love you forever if you do

-Is it wrong to say that I can see him having a Mommy kink? This might be from hearing the one line of his but there's just something about him that screams "let me call you Mommy plz". halp

-I've been making him sound like such a total sub but he can be dominant if you want. He tends to be more on the rough side when he doms though so do be prepared for it. He'd love to have you tied up and blindfolded, helpless as to what he's gonna do next. Loves making you beg

-peghimpeghimpeghimpeghimpeghim, do it. Nothing's stopping you. You'll get some of the best noises out of him if you peg him. He's is such a dirty little slut. Peg him and make him beg!

[sprite-writes]

failed romantics

Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Reader (original female character)

Summary: Secrets can’t be kept forever, and what better time to reveal them than the Enterprise night shift.

Word Count: 5,902

A/N: yay another chapter!! I have been so excited to write this one since I started this series, I hope you all like it. As always very special thanks to @lightning-writes without them these chapters would literally never get finished LOL immediately after finishing this plz go check out their bucky series; good heart (faulty machine of a man) it kills me in the best way. anyways, thank you for reading plz like + comment if you enjoyed :)

Leonard can only barely make out Kirk’s face under the dim bulb, but he is pissed enough that Jim’s mug is the last thing he wants to see. The music is loud, so goddamn loud , loud enough that the whiskey did nothing for his headache. 

“This is not what I had in mind when you said you knew a place,” he yells over the music, staring down the side of Kirk's face. 

“What?” the captain calls back, still oblivious to Leonard's scowl. Kirk is absent, completely distracted by the crowd, more specifically the women . His gaze filters from person to person as they pass by the table, a dumb smile on his face the entire time. If steam could come out of Leonard’s ears, it would. 

“I said this isn't what I had in mind for tonight.” He reaches across the table and firmly flicks his friend’s temple. 

“Hey! What's your problem?” Kirk whines. Leonard is satisfied to have gotten his attention—finally. 

“You said you knew a nice place– you said it was a bar!” 

“Yeah and? This is both of those things!” 

“This is a goddamned petri dish!” 

It is. Leonard has refused to even allow his bare skin to touch the tabletop, weary of the unknown sticky substances covering it. There are so many bodies— human and otherwise— packed into the space, it's suffocating, and certainly a fire hazard. It's gross, downright unsanitary, and fucking loud.  

“You’re dramatic, Bones, it's nice enough. Loosen up! Maybe try to meet somebody. We’re only in Yorktown for a day, y’know?” 

Tipsy Kirk is a fucking idiot. 

Leonard recoils at the idea. The captain has gained this…habit lately. This advice-giving habit where he tells Leonard to relax, to get out there, to get laid, and every time it passes through Kirk's lips, Leonard becomes nauseous. He abhors this subject, he really does. The only thing he hates talking about more than his dating life is why he doesn’t have one. Sure, he hasn't had much of one since the divorce anyway, but whatever he did have quickly reduced to nothing after meeting Sunshine. He feels so childish even mulling his thoughts over, and how it feels pointless to consider any other woman interesting since he has already met Sunshine, who is the most interesting. Interesting and pretty. Interesting and pretty and kind. He shakes his head before he starts down his mental list (again). Somedays, it feels like his feelings will swallow him whole. It has been so long since he felt it, the wanting . Wanting to talk to her all the time, or hold her hand, or just be around her. It all makes him feel so juvenile, like he’s a lovesick teenager. She makes him feel like a lovesick teenager. It is the single most frustrating thing he’d ever experienced.

“I don't wanna associate with anyone who willingly steps foot inside this shithole,” he snaps, “C’mon man, let's go.” Kirk protests, of course, even more so as Leonard grabs him by the ear and pulls him up from the chair. He tells himself he’s doing Kirk a favor, that the last thing he needs is a hookup— that he’s certainly not taking out his frustrations on his friend. 

The pair weave through the bodies, with Kirk stumbling after his friend and out the door. The cool breeze hits them like a breath of fresh air, and Leonard takes it in. Kirk, on the other hand, furiously rubs his reddened ear. 

“What the hell was that for? Are you out to get me tonight?” 

Leonard feels a quick pang of sympathy, regretting lashing out. 

“Look, I’m sorry, but that place had me sweating like a damn sinner in church, there’s other bars, and it's getting late anyways–”

Kirk would usually push it, and Leonard could tell he wants to, which makes him all the more thankful he doesn’t.  

“Fine, fine, whatever but we are drinking when we get back to the ship,” he settles, leading the way home. 

Yorktown is cold and downright industrial. Leonard hates it. He would usually be thankful for a pit stop if it means he can feel non-artificial gravity, but, between the dirty club and Kirk’s antagonizing, he’s ready to be spacebound again. Both the Enterprise and the USS Endeavor are in Yorktown for the night, in the process of a personnel transfer. The streets are crawling with Starfleet members.

They walk in silence for most of the way, observing the larger-than-life city and the star crafts buzzing overhead. Leonard would be lying if he said he doesn’t feel a bit empty.  Perhaps the low-lit, music-blaring monstrosity would have felt more tolerable if a certain lieutenant was with him and not stuck with the enterprise night crew. 

“You know, I wouldn’t have even known that place existed if it wasn’t for Sunny,” Kirk laughs. Leonard scrunches his nose. 

“She recommended that barnyard?” he scoffs. 

“Oh god no, she told me to stay away from it. Said it was the grimiest place on this side of the universe. I just thought it sounded like a good time, y’know?” 

Leonard stares, really stares, and wonders why he keeps expecting better of Kirk. 

“You’re an idiot, and an ass. The woman gives you stellar advice, and you ignore it, and stick her with the skeleton crew.” 

Kirk stops so abruptly, that Leonard stumbles over him. 

“ I didn’t put her on the skeleton crew, she requested to be. You think I would make her work more than she already does? I’m not a tyrant, Bones.” 

What?  

“What?” Leonard says out loud. “Why would she ask to be holed up on the enterprise all leave?” 

“I mean, I would too if the alternative was running into my ex and all his coworkers.” 

Kirk laughs, Leonard’s head spins. 

“Her ex?” 

“Yeah her— she didn’t tell you any of this?” 

“She said she wanted Jameson to oversee the transfer, give him more experience or something, so you put her on his night shift.” 

“No? She wanted Jameson to do it because she used to be engaged to the Endeavors head of security.” 

Leonard blinks. And blinks again. 

“Dude, I don’t even know how to change the schedule,” Kirk adds. 

 Suddenly, despite talking to her everyday for close to a year, she feels unfamiliar. Engaged? He can hardly imagine it, nor does he want to. Pictures of Sunshine flash through his mind, and he clenches his fist. 

“Didn’t know she had been engaged,” he feigns a casual tone.

Kirk furrows his brows. 

“ You didn’t know? You of all people?” Leonard shrugs, as his stomach forms a knot. “She tells you everything, and she’s never mentioned Ryder?”

“Christ, his name is Ryder ?”

“I know! Douchebag name, right?” 

He doesn’t respond for a beat, which turns into several beats. The gears in his head turn and turn. Engaged . He doesn’t understand why the idea eats at him. He himself had been married for years. So what if she was engaged? There is no reason for him to be upset that his friend—a coworker–had an ex. 

He feels nauseous. 

Kirk clears his throat, derailing Leonard's train of thought.

“You’re right, it’s late, we should head back,” he says, offering a reassuring smile. Leonard follows him, hands in his pockets.

“Do y’know what happened?” he asks finally. Kirk casts him a sideways glance.

“What, between them? Not a clue,” Kirk says with sincerity enough for Leonard to believe it. “She wasn’t really keen on discussing it.” He pauses and looks at the ground as they walk. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it though, Bones, I think everyone sees she’s only really got eyes for one person these days.” 

“Don't start, Jim,” Leonard warns hotly, clenching his jaw. 

“Start what? I’m not starting anything. I’m just laying out the facts.” Jim hiccups. “She adores you, man, like adores -”

“Sunshine ‘adores’ everyone she meets. We’re friends—good friends, but that's all.” His patience shrinks as his annoyance grows.

Jim laughs mirthlessly.

“No, Sunshine and I are good friends. Whatever you two are is something else entirely-” 

“Anyone ever tell you you don't know when to shut up?” His tone is as cold as the night air, and Jim shuts up.

Leonard wishes Kirk would drop the subject, trip over a rock, or whatever it took to never have this conversation again. Really—what he truly wants is for everyone to stop dangling this hope in front of his face like a carrot. He’s not an idiot, he knows he spends more time with the lieutenant than his colleagues, hears her laugh more often, and knows her habits better.

 He knows what it looks like. He also knows that he's a bitter emotionally closed-off divorcee— 

He tells Jim that Sunshine is his friend because she is—and he denies wanting anything more because It's stupid to want things out of his reach. 

Frustration heats his cheeks and begins to bloom into a headache. He knows Kirk means well, but that fact does little to comfort him. 

“Alright, I’ll drop it,” Kirk surrenders, his voice soft. “But there is one last thing you should know,” He pauses at the crosswalk and turns to Leonard. Eerily stoic, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Leonard's breath hitched. 

“Ryder’s got nothing on you in terms of looks, okay? Seriously he's like, 5’7, and his face isn't at all symmetrical-”

Leonard revs up and smacks Kirk in the back of the head harder than he ever had and feels no regret. Not even after Kirk's high-pitched “ Ouch!”

“Would you quit it! You gossip like a damn schoolgirl!”

The sign blinks at them to walk, and Leonard drags Kirk across the street, fingers digging into his arm. 

“Ow, ow, I was just saying-“

“Wait a minute,” Leonard lets his friend go and smooths down his sleeve. “How do you know what he looks like anyway?” 

Kirk puts himself at a safe distance from the Doctor, cradling his arm. “Well, the operations manager would usually talk to the department heads during a transfer, but Sunshine passed him off to me. I said no at first, obviously, because I hate managing, but then she finally told me she was almost Mrs. Ryder Denver. So yeah, I spoke with him a few times, just business. Have to say though, I couldn't imagine them together. He comes off as a bit of a douche.” 

Leonard breathes deeply, reigning in the emotions that he doesn’t need Kirk to pick up on. The idea of Sunshine being engaged does enough to unsettle him without knowing that the man in question “ came off as a douche” . He feels something boil under the surface. 

“Yeah?” is all he can strangle out. 

“Yeah—He’s like a classic douchey security buff,” Kirk continues, unaware of his friend's white knuckles. “You know the kind– uptight, condescending, has one earring and thinks it's edgy-”

“Wears their uniform a size too small? Yeah, I know the type.” 

“Exactly, and Sunshine is so…so-”

“Heart-of-gold?” 

“Yeah! Opposites attract I guess, but I don't know, something was off.” 

To Leonard, the entire thing is off. All of it. Everything . He doesn’t understand why Sunshine decided he doesn’t get to know, why it is a secret in the first place, why she almost married a douche, why he cares so damn much . 

The enterprise comes into view like the sun on the horizon, and Leonard is relieved . 

“Your arm’s all right?” Leonard asks, an apology without apologizing. Jim knows this and breathes a laugh. 

“Yup, the ear’s fine too.” 

The Doctor nods, but his eyes remain trained in front of him. Through the glass window panes, he eyes the ship, eager to hide away in the familiar place. He would have opened the door for Kirk, as a gesture, but of course, the Yorktown Federation Port has to have automatic doors. He huffs, and the artificial lights illuminate his red cheeks. They approach their home in silent tandem, their shoes clinking against the hard floors. 

“You should talk to her, Bones,” Kirk breaks the quiet, head down while he taps the access code to the enterprise hull. “Ask her why she didn't mention the ex. I’m sure she has a good reason, probably one you'll wanna hear.” 

Leonard wants to be mean. He wants to shake Kirk's words off with an insult and go to bed. But he swallows his pride, and it goes down like nails.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Hope. It bubbles up within his chest, and he pushes it down. Finally, the stark white enterprise interior greets him. He breathes a little easier. 

Kirk stumbles over the first step— “ Woah ”-- and Leonard steadies him with a raised eyebrow. “Andorian ale finally catching up with you?” 

“Pfft,” Kirk scoffs. “Couldn’t catch me if it tried.” 

Leonard pauses, then laughs, the first genuine one all night, and it has Kirk grinning back. 

The enterprise is empty, its residents still on the streets they just returned from. So, without restraint, they laugh, and Kirk stumbles, and Leonard forgets for a moment about the unsaid feelings under his skin. 

Kirk is an idiot, and he’s a good friend.  

He’s happy to banter about whatever comes out of Kirk's drunk mouth and to correct him when he takes a wrong turn in his own ship. Leonard claps his hand on his shoulder and drawls, “It’s this way, captain .”

“Uhh, no , Chekov keeps the good whiskey in his locker, this way,” Kirk insists with a point down the hallway, and Leonard is amazed at his eagerness to get blacked out the night before embarking. 

“Are you out of your mind? No way. You can drink like a fish when you don't need to fly a starship in the morning.” 

“What are you, my mom ?” 

Christ.

“No, but I pity the poor woman,” he huffs and gestures down the hallway leading to his quarters. Kirk frowns and scrunches his nose.

“Raincheck, Kirk, c’mon.” 

He begrudgingly obliges, having given his friend a hard enough time tonight anyway. The yawn that crawls out of his mouth a moment later corroborates Leonard's decision. He is tired, and Kirk shouldn't drink anymore, but he’d be lying if he said those were his only motives to end the night early.

“You win this one, Bones, but next time I swear we'll be out till sunrise,” he says between another yawn and a hiccup. 

“Uh-huh. Try not to trip.” Leonard reminds himself of the virtue of patience and keeps walking. 

Kirk manages to type in his room's access code all by himself, with only a moment of squinting, and a break to roll up the black sleeves of his turtleneck. Leonard is impressed, and the bar is low. 

“Drink a bottle of water, and get some sleep, We’ll talk tomorrow.” he crosses his arms over his chest and waits for protest. 

Kirk only hums. “You headed to your room?”

 The doctor's fingers drum against the doorframe. “Was thinking I’d check in on Sunshine,” he says, blinks, and rushes out, “and the rest of the Skeleton crew, of course.  Maybe medbay too, then I’ll hit the hay.” He fleetingly wonders if that sounds believable, or at least casual. 

 Kirk smiles a genuine smile. “Sounds like a good plan, Bones. See ya in the morning, and tell her I said hi .” Before he can react, his friend waves, and the door slides shut. Then, he’s alone in the hallways, and he has to put his money where his mouth is. 

Shit . 

The way to the bridge feels daunting now, like climbing Everest. Like climbing Everest with the shittiest rope ever. Like climbing Everest with the shittiest rope ever, several pounds of emotional baggage, and a Starfleet captain breathing down his neck.  He considers just going to bed, pretending he never even mentioned the whole thing. Maybe even pretend he doesn't care to get answers. He can just leave it be. 

The desire to see her trumps all of it. 

The halls are deserted, which he’s thankful for. He doesn’t need anyone around to watch him squirm in the elevator. A deep breath, a punch of the open elevator button and—

“I told you I don't have any threes! Go fish, again .” 

He sees the back of the captain's chair first, then Starfleet-issued black boots hanging off of it. The whoosh of the door draws the attention of the room to him. Eyes sweep through the vaguely familiar faces of the night crew, all six staring at him like they are waiting for an explanation, which he doesn’t really have. The heeled black boots plant themselves on the ground, the captain's seat swivels around. His heart works double time. 

“ Leonard ? Hi! What are you doing here?” 

Sunshine’s got a hand of cards between her pointer and her thumb, and a sweatshirt pulled over her uniform dress, and it distracts Leonard for longer than it should. He clears his throat, and it shakes loose the feelings stuck there. 

“Just thought I'd check in on our hard working night crew, who is surely on task.” He descends the bridge steps. 

“Well, then, you'll be happy to hear that I am, in fact, glancing at my station every 20 minutes, and I’m the undefeated go-fish champion.” 

She waves the cards at herself like a fan, legs crossed and smile wide. 

“Undefeated, huh? Glad to see your talents going to good use.” Her smile gets a bit brighter, and she does a quick breathy laugh with her nose. For a moment there's quiet, and Leonard begins scrambling for a way to ask her the thing he wants to ask her. The bridge is crowded, for a skeleton crew, he thinks. The redshirt to Sunshine’s left breaks the silence before he can. 

“I’m not sure if I’d call it talent…I’m pretty sure she's cheating,” they grumble, and Sunshine doesn't spare a moment, whipping the chair around. He can almost see the panic fill her eyes, like she’s just been accused of a heinous crime. 

“I’m not! Are you still thinking about that last round? Because that was—”  

Even Leonard winces a bit at her shrill tone, and he’s pretty sure she just woke the navigator who had fallen asleep at his station, so he claps his hands on her shoulders. 

“Sounds to me like this card game has you wound like a spring,” he interrupts her before her voice jostles anyone else awake. 

She pouts, lip jutted out and everything. 

“Let's go for a walk,” he suggests. He doesn’t even let his nerves talk him out of it. She looks at him curiously, her eyebrows drawn. 

“I dunno, I probably shouldn’t leave…” 

“I’m sure someone else can deal cards while you’re gone,” he tells her, already offering his arm. 

The Ensign, Leonard still doesn’t know their name, waves her off. “Go, Lieutenant, It's fine. I’m sure we can handle a few minutes without you.” 

She bites her lip and cautiously loops her arm around his, leaving the captain's chair to her subordinate. 

“Alright, but don’t start a new game without me,” she warns lightly. 

Leonard doesn’t get nervous with her arm looped around his, really he doesn’t. He’s headfirst into this thing now, no room for nerves. 

She drinks her whiskey neat, he learns, and it surprises him. Surprises him even more when she downs it like a shot. 

The walk there had been quiet mostly, except for when Sunshine regaled the stories of her card game wins. 

“Did you have a nice time with Kirk?” she asks politely.

“I dunno if I’d say that, but maybe Jim would disagree.” 

She laughs lightly, and her finger traces the lip of the whiskey glass. He doesn’t know if it’s the best idea, but he refills her cup. 

There is a beat of silence, and the conversation with Kirk pushes to the front of his thoughts. There's a heaviness on the tip of his tongue, the desire to ask why . Without really knowing how to. 

“Wish I could’ve gone with you guys,” she says, her gaze downcast. There's a rare melancholy to her tone, something vulnerable woven into it. 

“You could’ve,” he tells her, and her eyes pull from the table.

“I had--”

“Yeah, I know what you– I just mean–I’m sure Kirk would have given you the night off if you asked… God knows he owes you enough favors.” 

“I guess,” she shrugs, “it wasn’t really the best night for it, though.” 

He could go along with her lame excuse, vaguely agreeing that, yeah, there will be other nights. But the ache to know what exactly goes on in her pretty head has words tumbling out of his mouth. 

“Yeah, Kirk mentioned somethin’ like that,” he mumbles, nerves permeating the sentence. 

“...what?” 

Shit.

“I mean, he may have-”

“What exactly did he mention?” Her tone holds a sharp undercurrent of something rare for Sunshine– anger.

Leonard runs a hand down his face, suddenly thinking of all the much more tactful ways he could have begun this. The gentle buzz of alcohol still in his bloodstream keeps him from panicking. 

“Nothing terrible, just that there was someone in town you wouldn’t wanna see.”

“As if ,” she scoffs. “Kirk’s never been that vague in his life.” 

“…fair enough.” 

She groans miserably, fitfully pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her hands and burying her face in the fabric. 

“You were not supposed to find out like this,” she says, muffled. 

“And how was I supposed to find out?” He asks quietly, like the question will frighten her away. 

A sniffle comes from behind her hands–the sound tugs at his heart. 

“ I don't know. Maybe someone could have told you when I’m dead and then we’d never have to have this conversation.” 

He reaches for her slowly, taking her wrists in a gentle hold and pulling them away from her face, revealing her reddened nose and watery eyes. Her hands are cold, and grow stiff under his touch. 

“Sunshine. It's an ex , not a damn intergalactic scandal. There are worse conversations to have,” he reasons. 

“You don't get it,” she tells him matter-of-factly, pulling her hands from his touch. Embarrassment quickly heats his body, and he wipes his palms on his pants. 

“I’d get it a lot more if you talked about it.” He flexes his jaw, frustration bleeding into his voice. 

She narrows her eyes, punctuating her glare with a sniffle. 

“If I wanted to talk about it, I would’ve.”

“With Kirk? Because he seems to get it.” 

“Why are you acting so—”

“Concerned? Oh, I dunno because you’re my friend?” Exasperation colors his tone.

“I was gonna say entitled,” she grits out. Her anger comes out half-heartedly, sounding more like watery sadness than anything. “I don't tell you everything, and I don't have to. You’re not my-” She sighs. “Why does it matter? I was engaged for like, a year, and now, I’m not.” 

You’re not my–

Her half sentence sticks in his mind and sends blood rushing to his head. He thinks of all the things that he is to her: a colleague, a doctor, a friend. All the things he isn’t feels like a gaping hole. 

He watches her clench her fists and force her tears back. 

“It matters because it upsets you enough to work the night shift,” he sighs, the anger he’s been holding seeps out of his hands like water. “I’m not pressing you for the latest gossip, Sunny. I’m asking because it would be lousy of me not to.” 

She says nothing, taking in his words. 

“I’m no stranger to this stuff, y’know,” he prods her gently. “My ex-wife sent me running all the way to space .” He says lightly, and the corners of her mouth twitch up briefly.

“He didn't send me running, I sent him,” she confesses, shaking her head. 

“ You ?” 

“Me. The thing is,” she shrugs, “it should have worked, y’know? Like on paper, it was perfect. Ryder and I were academy sweethearts, liked all the same shit, were top of our classes, blah, blah, blah.” She rolls her eyes. “Our friends used to tease us, say that it wasn't fair, and we were too in love.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” she says, sighing. Her eyes drift nowhere in particular. “It didn’t feel nice after a while though. It felt suffocating. I was half a person with him, we were Ryder and Sunshine–and that was one entity.” Her tears dry on her lashes, as she becomes entrenched in the memory. 

“But the person we were wasn’t me . Because he never thought my jokes were funny, or my hobbies were interesting or my friends were cool, so I was willing to throw them all out. Eventually all that was left was him. His ideas, his wants, his needs. I was backed into a corner. I should’ve left when I realized but I loved him… and I was really scared of being alone.” 

She pushes her hair behind her ears and lets out a shaky breath. 

“I was a coward, and I couldn’t leave. I wanted to try and fix it, figure out who I was, and then maybe Ryder could love that person,” She shakes her head. “I was naive. Ryder always wanted someone I couldn’t be. Someone quieter or someone better at being a person. I’m always so all over the place you know? Too much for him.”

“You’re not–”

“It's okay, Len, you don't have to say anything.” she says, meeting his eyes again, taming the budding fire in his heart. 

The idea of Sunshine being anything but completely herself unnerves him. Her jokes are funny, he can’t recall ever laughing as much before she boarded the enterprise. Her ramblings about xenobotany and classic earth songs never fail to catch his attention, even when he barely knows what she's talking about. Being around Sunshine is as easy as breathing, and he’s starting to need it as much too. 

“Anyways, he proposed our senior year, like we weren’t a sinking ship, and I said yes and pretended like the ring wasn’t a last-ditch attempt to bring us back to life.” 

Her teeth sink into her lip, her eyes dragging to her lap.

“I don't know what it was, but one night I just…broke. I couldn’t keep pretending to be someone I wasn’t, or beg to be loved.”

A few tears slide down her cheeks, she scrubs them away with her sleeve.

Leonard wants to tell her that she should never have to beg for anything in the first place, least of all love; he wants to tell her that she's worthy just the way she is. His fingers twitch with the desire to take her by the shoulders and tell her over and over that she’s perfect, that she couldn’t be too much if she tried. Sunshine has always had a magnetic pull to her, drawing in everyone she meets with her warmth. The idea of anyone taking that away from her pulls his heartstrings tight enough to snap. He holds back his anger, refraining from telling her that Ryder is an asshole who didn’t deserve a second of her time. 

The wiser part of him knows that's not what he needs.

“We had planned to be on the USS Endeavor together, but I rescinded my application. I signed up to do on-planet research instead. I wrote a long letter, left it on our bed, packed up my things, and left.” 

She coughs in a way that he knows is covering up a sob and takes a deep breath. The sound sends a pang of emotion through him.

“It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. We were engaged, for Christ's sake, and I couldn’t even look him in the eye when I left him. And don’t even get me started on the fallout. We had all the same friends, and our families were so close… it was all so humiliating . Everyone expected us to live happily ever after, and then, there I was, giving him back his ring in a coffee shop.”  

She knocks back the rest of her drink, like a consolation prize for getting all the words out. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Len. I never wanted you to think of me like that, as someone who would do that.” 

“ Sweetheart ,” he says like a plea, calling her attention. “No one in their right mind would think differently of you for leaving something that wasn’t good for you– or at least they shouldn’t.” 

She's shaking her head before he finishes his sentence. 

“But I–”

“I know. You didn’t go about it the way you maybe should’ve– or the way you wanted to. It doesn’t make you a bad person, it doesn’t make you any less… good.”

She hiccups, her chest rising and falling rapidly as another stream of tears drips down her cheeks. He can't help himself – and even if he could, he doesn’t want to – he brings both hands to her cheeks, wiping away the salty tears. 

“It's alright,” he says gently, swiping his thumb under her eye again. “You’re alright.”

She nods, breaths finally evening out, and his hands reluctantly fall back onto his lap. 

He remembers well the storm of feelings his divorce left him with. The gulit, the lonliness, feeling like the world was ending. 

“I get it, y’know. The shitty relationship, becoming somebody you don't wanna be,” the barstool squeaks as he leans on the counter. He hasn't talked about his marriage since he told the story to Kirk years ago. It feels odd to tell it again. 

“My ex and I met in college, fell head over heels, and I proposed a year later. I thought… well, we both thought we were soulmates. There was this connection between us that I’d never felt before, and I thought this must be it.” 

“After a year ?” she gawks. He casts her a sideways glance and chuckles. 

“A perfect year, mind you. Not a single disagreement, not a bad date– every day was straight out of a damn love story or something. Until we got hitched, that is. Then it was all disagreements.”

 He anxiously taps a rhythm on the bar top. The memory still burns him now, of the fiery conflict, of the sleepless nights. 

“We were the same in all the worst ways, stubborn, headstrong, prideful. We couldn't settle an argument to save our lives. It probably didn't help that I was in the middle of residency and pulling 100-hour weeks. It was miserable. I hardly recognized myself… I know I don’t have the best temper, but I never wanted to be an angry person.” 

He lets out a slow breath, “I was mad as hell when she called it quits, said a lot of stuff I regret. But she was right to do it. We brought out the worst in each other, I was just too narrow-minded to see it. All this to say, I’m sure I would have taken the night shift to avoid her too.” 

Sunshine rests a comforting hand on his shoulder, her thumb pressing circles into the muscle. 

“I’m sorry, Len.”

He leans into her touch without thinking about it. “These things happen,” he tells her decidedly. “When something’s not right, there's nothing you can do to change that. You do the best you can with where you’re at, that's all.” He pictures himself, young and full of fire, holding onto something that had already slipped away. “Which you did, Sunshine. I know it’s hard to see now, but I promise it gets easier.”

When he drags his gaze from the mahogany bar top back to Sunshine, she's watching him curiously. 

“What am I supposed to see?”

“That you were young, and scared, and you did what you needed to for yourself. Even if it's not shit you’re proud of, it makes you who you are. You learn, and it makes you better.” 

She says nothing, silently considering his words for several moments. “Well, it better get easier soon, because it sucks .” 

He chuckles, “That it does.” 

 She reaches right past him and grabs the half-empty bottle of whiskey.

“We should toast,” she says, the melancholy in her voice fading away, probably tucked back behind a wall. “To failed marriages.” 

She’s already refilling their glasses and lifting hers to bump with his. 

“Thought you ducked out on the whole wedding thing?” he teases. 

“Fine then, to failed romantics,” she impatiently shakes the ice in her glass, “Just do it.” 

He knocks his glass with hers and agrees, “To failed romantics, and night shifts, and all the other shitty stuff.”

Her face pinches as she finishes her drink. Gingerly, she takes both of their glasses and stacks them behind the bar. 

Like ripping a bandage off and letting the wound breathe, Leonard feels lighter. As Sunshine hops off the bar stool and straightens her uniform skirt, he can see on her face that she does too. 

“Thank you for the drink, and the talk, Len,” she says, and he waves her off. 

“Don't mention it.” 

“ Totally gonna mention it,” she grins, “and when the schedule suddenly gives you two days off in a row, you’ll know why.” 

He laughs, and shakes his head, “I don’t think that's allowed, Lieutenant.” 

“I have my ways,” she says innocently, as she saunters to the door. 

He watches her go, everything she’s told him still buzzing in his head. He can hardly make sense of everything he’s feeling at once, but there's one thought that sticks out among the rest, that sits on his chest, demanding to be heard. 

“Sunshine?” he calls before she’s gone, giving into his relentless mind.

“Yeah?”

When she turns around, he’s flooded with everything he’s ever wanted to tell her. How she has seeped into every part of his life since he met her, despite his once armored heart. How she doesn’t see it, but she's changed the entire atmosphere of the bridge, pouring life into it with her energy. How she's taught him how to be a better friend, a better man, even a better doctor. How she’s not too much, she's everything. 

 “You should know, you’re never too much, that's ridiculous. Anyone on this ship would agree in a heartbeat. Don’t know what I’d– what we’d do without you,” he rushes out. “I hope you never think you need to be anything other than who you are.”

She goes still in the door frame and observes him for a moment. He flounders in her silence, wondering if he should have just kept his mouth shut. She suddenly moves from the doorway, quickly striding towards him, the sound of her boots clacking on the floor. He has no time to react before she gently places her hand on his chest. She wastes no time, leaning down and pressing a warm kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you,” she says meaningfully, searching his eyes for a brief moment before she turns heel again. She’s out the door without him even mustering up a word to say. 

His skin heats where her lips had touched him, a crackling feeling left in their place. He lifts his fingers to the skin, ghosting over the sticky remnants of her lipgloss. 

He sits, dumbfounded, knowing he’s gone somewhere there's no coming back from.     

[seancekitsch]

How about Lucifer and one of Angel or Cherri's wild party friends?

If it blows up in your face, you can always say it was a dare.

Cherri’s words ricochet in your head like a pinball as you look down at the hand next to yours. The gloved hand so close that if you were to twitch, you’d touch fingers. Normally by this time of night you’d be at the club, or at some party, but instead here you were behind the bar at the Hazbin Hotel; a structure dedicated to a redemption you weren’t sure you believed in. And here you are, full of nerves, teaching the King of Hell himself how to make a cocktail. He’s done pretty good at it, which is expected, because you’re pretty sure he’s lied about not knowing how to make an Appletini. He’s like ten thousand fucking years old, of course he knows how to make an Appletini; he probably invented them.

But now that there’s drinks in front of the two of you, and Husk away from his normal post to have a night with Angel, the two of you take up the space to people watch. Its impressive, really, how much Charlie’s gotten-

A gloved finger curling over your pinky stops any thought, and you look down to where Lucifer has just made a move. Well, a move way subtler than you’re used to.

“Sorry if this is ah- a slow night for you,” Lucifer sounds a little guilty as he turns his face towards yours, his eyes following a couple that had recently checking into the hotel instead of meeting yours though.

“Oh! no,” you chuckle as you nudge your joined fingers, “slow is okay, really.”

“Well, I- I just figure you’re used to something more fun than this,” he tilts his head down, averting your attention now fully on him, “Like I know you turned down Cherri’s invitation tonight to hang out with me, and I really appreciate that, but I know-“

“Lucifer,” you interrupt, “Do you want to go to a club or something?”

You chuckle at the confusion on his face.

“You know, if you’re so worried about tonight being slow.”

You should have quit while you were ahead, you think as you lead a disguised Lucifer by the hand through a club in the Vee’s turf. He looks so wildly out of place trailing behind you. You’re lucky enough that you have a standing reservation for a couch at this particular club, and you quickly gesture to Lucifer to sit once you’ve reached it. A waitress appears immediately and brings two glasses with ice and a bottle of Velvette’s custom vanilla vodka as you usually get.

“Is it normally-“ Lucifer shouts over the music, “always this loud?”

You nod enthusiastically as you pour up for both of you, eyes surveying the crowd. No one has seemed to notice you or your guest, which is ideal right now. A scandal for Lucifer would absolutely ruin anything between the two of you.

You lean in, flirtatiously close until your lips almost touch the shell of his ear.

“This is my booth,” you explain, “Nobody can sit unless I let them, so we can people watch uninterrupted.”

He seems to relax at your words, and clinks his glass against yours before taking a big swig.

Lucifer almost immediately sputters, coughing most of the vodka back into the glass.

“Oh wow! That is! Oh!” he exclaims, not even hiding his disgust as you laugh sympathetically.

“Not a fan?” you joke, before reassuring him, “Don’t worry, me neither.”

“Why do you drink it then?” he asks, gesturing at how easily you’re sipping at it.

“Comes with the booth,” you explain, taking his glass from him, pouring his contents into yours, spit and all.

He eyes you up at that move, not exactly hiding the fact that he’s taking in the sight of your body. You practically shiver under his gaze, feeling bashful now because of him. Butterflies swarm in your stomach, and maybe if he wasn’t the literal King of Hell you’d lean over and kiss him.

Instead you chicken out.

“Let me grab you something you will like,” you offer, gesturing to the bar at the wall to the left of the couch. You stand up before he can protest, taking a big sip of the glass now containing his drink and yours, and place it down on the little table in front of the couch before you head away.

Lucifer wishes he had played it cooler with the vodka. If he had, maybe you’d be on the couch right now, your hip oh so close to his, and his nerves dissolving enough to maybe try to grab your hand again. Or ask you to get on the dance floor. Or fuck it, kiss you. He stares fixated at the drink, trying and failing to not read too much into it. You’d drank from it even after you’d watched him make an ass of himself and spit into it. You willingly drank his spit, and, was that flirting? It was weird to him, thats for sure. But you’re one of Cherri and Angel’s friends, wild and barely tamed by his daughter’s redemption program, and maybe this is modern flirting in hell. Lilith never did anything like that, but then again, she took off without a word a decade ago. Maybe thats what flirting looks like these days; maybe Lilith does this now too. Maybe he should stop thinking of his ex-wife when the curve of your ass and the promise of your attention has him glued to his seat and waiting for your return. Why had he even suggested this club? He wonders, and then remembers the brittle coldness of insecurity that crept up on him in the lobby, seeing such a carefree woman like yourself cooped up with him on a night he knows you cancelled plans for. He thinks back to the drink, and counts it as a bizarre, one way, first kiss, and lets himself feel the rhythm of the music bumping around him, one song bleeding into the next, until a familiar raised voice breaks the thrum of noise.

You tap your card on the bar absentmindedly as you wait for the bottle of wine you ordered for Lucifer, something you’ve known he drinks and that the bar cannot screw up. This bartender was from Sloth, so of course you expected slow service, but this was something else. Why had you even offered to leave instead of waving over a waitress? You were finally getting somewhere with Lucifer before the vodka incident, and maybe you’d be dancing or making out or even just having a very good conversation while sat in his lap.

An arm around your waist shakes you from your thoughts, and you turn, ready to excitedly greet the man and explain the hold up, but that doesn’t happen. A bull like sinner has decided to grab you, something that maybe a few years ago might flatter you, but the thought churns your stomach now to be touched by anyone but Lucifer like this. Damn, you’ve really gone soft for him, huh?

You shake the man off, glaring as you make your disinterest known, but he just puts his hand back, now on your hip. Bold! You tap your card harder, hoping if you get this wine you can scurry back to the table quickly and this will be over.

“Put that card away,” the sinner says, “I’ve got something for you.”

You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, drugged no doubt,” you sneer, and the sheepish look on his face tells you that your assumption was correct. Bold and disgusting!

“Listen I’ll-“

“I’m with someone!” you practically shout, but that doesn’t make the sinner back off.

“Well I don’t see-“

You spin on your heels, pulling yourself from his grasp.

“I do not care who you are, I do not want whatever you have, I do not want whatever you want from me!” you are shouting now, not caring about a scene because finally the fucking wine is being placed on the bar so you can get out of this area. Lucifer can get his own drinks for the rest of the night, or better yet, you can go back to the hotel.

The sinner bares his teeth, and you’re certain he’s growling under the throbbing beat of the music. You back up, grabbing the wine with you and ready to run until you back into another person. You sigh, not really ready for an ambush and not really wanting to break this bottle over someone’s head without letting Lucifer drink at least a little bit of it. You turn, ready to fight, but you’re greeted by Lucifer’s disguise. Immediately you calm down. Lucifer won’t let anything bad happen to you.

“The lady said she’s with someone,” he explains, voice even and deadly, before he leads you away quicker than the other sinner can really retaliate.

Lucifer guides you back to the couch, but you walk straight past it, heading for the door. He follows quickly, grabbing your hand not unlike before. You walk until you reach the heavy steel door, pushing it open with your shoulder and letting the cool air of the alley hit you in the face.

“What about your section?” Lucifer asks, genuine concern in his voice. You motion at your other hand, the one not interlaced in his at the full bottle of wine you held onto as you walked out.

“Fuck the section, I wanna go back to the hotel,” you say, trying not to look as embarrassed as you felt. Why did that have to happen? The night was nice, albeit awkward, and that guy had to go and ruin it, and Lucifer had to get involved. You can handle yourself, and Lucifer doesn’t get out much, and that place must have seemed so… so.

You hold out the wine for him, and he takes it and sips from it, wine spilling out onto his lips. Fucking hot, even in disguise.

“I was enjoying our quiet night, I’m sorry if it seemed like I wasn’t,” you admit, inspecting your boots now as if they were immensely interesting.

“No! I just didn’t want to— to bore you,” Lucifer steps into your space, the toes of his shoes resting barely an inch from yours, and then a portal opens and his disguise fades, familiar red and gold on the other side.

You both step through, and find yourselves in the hallway that leads to his observatory.

Lucifer’s hand doesn’t leave yours though, not until you’re in the window covered room and staring out at all of Pentagram city. It’s almost beautiful from up here.

“I guess this was kind of a disaster, huh?” Lucifer tries to joke, but he cannot hide the way he winces at his own words.

“I wouldn’t say that,” you reply, but yes you fucking could. It was awkward and uncomfortable and neither of you had fun. But still…

“I got to spend time with you, I accidentally stole that bottle of wine so I saved money, and I got to hold your hand,” you listed out all the good things, all the things that made you want the night to last eternally.

“And we’re still hanging out!” Lucifer points out, and you cannot help but gravitate towards him again. He holds up the bottle to you, and you drink from it. The bottle his lips were just on. If you try hard enough, you could probably make out his taste from it.

He smiles brightly at you, and you cannot chicken out this time.

“Can I hold your hand again?” you ask, and his hand eagerly reaches for yours.

“Is that all you want to do?” he asks, leaning into you.

“Oh, I wanna do a lot to you,” you admit, smile growing as a blush spreads across his cheeks.

“But I wanna take it slow tonight.”

[cat3ch1sm]

Idea:

Tamaki (Ohshc) with Fem!reader who dislikes him and finds him annoying. Reader always wears kimono dresses and has a little knife up her sleeve (FOR SELF DEFENSE PURPOSES ONLY). So sometime she hangs around with Haruki and the rest of the club come (she only tolerates Honey cause he looks a kid) and Tamaki starts his romantic antics and she gets pissed so she just swiftly throws the knife very close to his face saying "The next time I won't miss."

She goes to unplug the knife from the wall, accidentally caging Tamaki between her and the wall.

Honestly I have no more ideas,so just go ahead and finish it as you like.

🐸~ hi!! missed you in my inbox <33 thanks for your request! i hardly ever write for ohshc😭 hope u enjoy, ily

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ fem!reader, knives

“It’s nice to spend some time alone with you,” Haruhi confessed, smiling a little awkwardly with a small laugh. “The host club has been all over me lately. I can hardly go to the bathroom without one of them on my tail.”

You and your friend, Haruhi Fujioka, were sitting outside in the courtyard of Ouran High School. Cherry blossom trees surrounding you and the occasional petal or two fluttered down into either of your hair, a gentle breeze blowing on your long dress. It was a free period, meaning students could simply do as they pleased for forty-five minutes. You hadn’t gotten to see Haruhi as often as you used to, so you were glad to steal your friend away for at least a little while.

“I agree.” You nodded, smiling as well. “Only time I’ve gotten to see you lately is when you’re with that infernal host club- and you know I can’t stand them.” Your smile faltered a little, and you folded your arms across your chest, the sleeves of your kimono rustling. “And I only tolerate Honey because he literally looks like a little kid. It feels morally wrong to hate him.”

Haruhi laughed out loud. “Senpai- sorry, Tamaki still bothering you?”

“To no end,” you replied bitterly, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, he can be pretty persistent. There was a phase for a minute when he was absolutely obsessed with me.” Haruhi cringed as she recalled it. Then she smiled again. “Luckily, when you came into the picture Tamaki totally forgot about me.”

You pursed your lips in a sour manner. “Yeah, you owe me for the rest of your life.”

“I know, I know!”

Haruhi’s amusement was contagious, and the two of you just sat there giggling for a minute before your laughter was cut through with a shrill scream of “Haruhiiiiiiiiiii!”

Haruhi immediately stopped laughing, her expression dropping as her eyes widened. You made a face, recognizing the yell instantly.

Tamaki came barreling towards the two of you, followed from a distance by the rest of the Host Club, tearing through the throngs of students until he finally reached you both.

“Haruhi! I’ve been looking for you all over!” Tamaki cried dramatically, throwing his arms around Haruhi in an exaggerated embrace. Haruhi let out a groan and thrashed around in his grip, snapping at him to get off, but he wasn’t listening. “Daddy was so worried when you weren’t in the music room! Free periods are our busiest time, and we can’t operate without our star host- well, second star host,” Tamaki whined.

“Senpai, I’m with a friend right now,” Haruhi grunted in annoyance, trying to pry his arms off of her. “Do you mind?”

“What friend could possibly be more important than being with us at the host club?” Tamaki demanded, turning vehemently- and that’s when he caught sight of you. You let out a weary sigh, already knowing what was coming next as the blonde’s eyes widened and that irritating lovesick expression softened his face. “Oh- it’s you, Y/N!” Tamaki exclaimed joyfully, abruptly releasing Haruhi and coming to stand in front of you. Haruhi dropped to the ground with a yelp, but when you moved to help her up, Tamaki blocked your way.

“You cannot be serious,” you muttered, dropping your head in exasperation. So much for a quiet period with Haruhi.

Tamaki, as usual, was oblivious to your obvious disinterest. “Why, Y/N- you’re looking even more radiant than usual today! Your skin is absolutely radiant in the sun.” He had that familiar gleam in his eye, the one that usually made girls’ knees buckle and cheeks flush, but all it did was piss you off. “May I humbly ask you to accompany the Host Club and I back to the music room? Such a dull place it is without your lovely presence…” Tamaki sighed as if in distress and placed the back of his hand on his forehead like a swooning maiden. You could practically see the sparkles gleaming off of him, and to be honest, it made you nauseous.

“Mhm,” you answered flatly. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

The rest of the host club had caught up with Tamaki by now, Kyoya and Mori helping a disgruntled Haruhi off the ground where Tamaki had dropped her. One of the girl’s arms in his grip, Kyoya glanced up from behind his glasses, watching the scene between you and Tamaki. “Clearly, Tamaki, she’s very interested in joining you,” he remarked sarcastically. “What a ray of sunshine, hm?”

“Like you’re much better,” you muttered in response. Tamaki hardly noticed Kyoya’s disdain, though.

“You’re interested?” he exclaimed, and before you could react he took your hands in his, twirling you around in a very theatric fashion that, much to your dismay, drew the attention of passersby. “Wonderful! To have someone like you join me at the Host Club… truly you are the most beautiful of them all.”

Your expression remained stony as you broke away from Tamaki’s grasp, smoothing down your kimono and blowing stray strands of hair out of your face. “You say that to every girl you meet,” you answered sourly.

Tamaki paused for a second in surprise, a slightly guilty expression appearing on his face. “Well, yes, but I only really mean it when I say it to you,” he offered sheepishly, hitting you with another one of those disgustingly blinding bright smiles. You let out a heavy sigh in response, and with your patience thinning you thought it best to not say anything.

“Wow, is free period almost over?” you asked offhandedly, checking an imaginary watch on your wrist. “Maybe I should be going-“

“Nonsense!” Tamaki exclaimed. “We still have twenty-five minutes left.” He suddenly reached for your hair, and before you could duck he plucked a pink petal from your head. Grimacing, you watched as he gazed at the petal with a downright corny amount of fondness as he brought it to his face.

“This flower was caught in your hair,” Tamaki explained, his voice sickeningly sweet, and you fought the urge to hit yourself in the head. “You are such a radiant creature that even the flowers wish to remain by your side. I will cherish it forever- as a token of your beauty.”

Tamaki’s dramatic antics had drawn something of a crowd by now- really just a handful of fawning girls who clung to every word he was saying to you. At this last remark they let out a collective squeal that made you wince. Behind Tamaki, Haruhi sent you an apologetic look.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, thoroughly exasperated. “Well, that’s definitely unnecessary. I’ll be going now-“

“But, my love, wait-“ Tamaki started, grabbing your hands again- but by now you’d had more than enough. All in one move, you tore your hands out of his, reached into the large sleeve of your kimono, pulled out a throwing knife, and hurled it at Tamaki with alarming accuracy. It was sheer luck that Tamaki wasn’t impaled through the face, dodging at the last minute, and the knife instead buried itself into a tree directly behind him.

The people around you went dead silent. Haruhi’s eyes were wide as frying pans and the host club members besides Mori and Kyoya wore equally disquieted expressions on their faces. Honey rushed to cower behind Mori’s long legs. Tamaki, eyes wide as well, was frozen against the tree, the knife barely an inch from his temple.

Not even noticing the looks of alarm directed at you, you tsked in slight frustration with yourself for missing. Keeping your gaze straight ahead, you walked straight up to Tamaki, who didn’t move an inch but whose eyes followed you like lasers, and pinning him just beneath you you roughly yanked the knife from the bark of the tree. But before pulling away with your knife in hand, you placed your lips at Tamaki’s ear, making sure only he could hear what you were going to say next.

“Next time I won’t miss.”

[icyminghao]

if you call on me forever, i will come (preview)

pairing: popstar!soonyoung x fem!reader ft. childhood bestfriend!joshua genre: angst, fluff (not in preview), arranged marriage!au warning(s) (for the preview): cursing, mentions of food word count (for the preview): 1.9k

summary: as a result of his entertainment label teetering on the edge of bankruptcy, soonyoung is given an ultimatum: marry the heir of the largest entertainment label in korea and save his career, or risk losing everything he’s built over the last five years.

a/n: just a little something i’ve been working on to make up for the inactivity~~ not sure when this would be uploaded since i haven’t finished it yet ><

Having been in the entertainment industry since he was eighteen, Soonyoung has quite literally been through it all. From the doubtful eyes of the public when he just debuted to the current, decent fanbase he has garnered through all his years of hardwork and determination, Soonyoung has seen it all.

At least, he thought he had.

“What the hell did you just say?” Soonyoung snaps his head to send the CEO of his music label a chill-inducing glare, and Mr. Kang gulps for a split second before returning to his stoic expression.

“I said,” Mr. Kang clears his throat, “you’re to marry the heir of VIBE Entertainment, as per the conditions set by her father.”

The words hit Soonyoung hard, like he’d just downed a bottle of vodka in one go. He resists the urge to launch himself at Mr. Kang. “And why the hell would I do that?”

“Because,” Mr. Kang sighs, exasperated, “you have to. It’s the only way for our label to survive. You know what our situation’s like, Soonyoung. The CEO of VIBE Entertainment is doing us a mercy here. Just marry the girl, and VIBE will take us under their wing, and-”

“And then what?” Soonyoung snaps, “We’ll just be one of the many companies monopolised by that farce of an entertainment label. You’ll be just another one of his subordinates, another one of his pawns. Is this the path you want?”

“I mean, just look at what the fuck you’re doing here.” Soonyoung runs his hand through his blonde locks in pure frustration. “I have a fucking girlfriend. You’re just going to upend my life to live out a shitty future? This is the twenty-first century, man. You’d think we’d have gotten over the stupid ‘arranged marriage’ cliche, huh?”

“What do you want me to do, then?” Mr. Kang raises his voice, his gaze hardening. “Do you think I haven’t considered the consequences of this for you? For the label? For me? I’m doing this because we have no other choice-”

“I have my fans. I could work something out,” Soonyoung reasons, pacing about Mr. Kang’s tiny, cramped office.

Mr. Kang laughs with no emotions behind his eyes, and Soonyoung is just now noticing the pure exhaustion manifested in his horrid dark eye circles. “Your fans can’t do jack shit, and you know it.”

Soonyoung doesn’t say anything in reply, because Mr. Kang is right. His record label had been struggling when Soonyoung first debuted, and silly, naive, eighteen-year-old him thought he could change that. Thought he could be Mr. Kang’s hero, thought he could save the label with his immaculate talent.

Fast forward to five years later, and the label is doing so much worse after suffering the effects of supporting an average pop star for half a decade. Hell, he can’t even bear to call himself a pop star. Five years down the rocky road to stardom, and he’s barely produced enough hits to even be considered a household name in the country, let alone the world. He knows Mr. Kang is right. They’ve been backed against the wall, and there’s only one way out.

Breaths evening out as he calms down, Soonyoung shuts his eyes so tight it feels like his sockets might pop out. Letting out a sigh in surrender, he slowly opens them and inhales deeply.

“How long do I have till it happens?”

You think you might just be Soonyoung’s biggest fan.

You’ve been with him on his journey to stardom since he debuted, and you’ve been a loyal fan since. You’d even talked to him once, when your father’s secretary brought you to the set where Soonyoung was filming an interview with a magazine.

Which is why your mind is reeling right now. Your father’s secretary, Joshua, had just informed you of your impending marriage to Soonyoung, and you’re both happy and taken by surprise.

“He… agreed to this? Willingly?” you ask, doubt lacing your voice. Joshua simply nods in response, before letting out a huge smile and stepping closer to you.

“This is really big, y/n,” Joshua grins toothily. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and launch yourself into your childhood best friend’s arms, squealing.

“I know, Shua! I’m just, really surprised he agreed to this willingly. I mean, I feel really bad since this is, like, being forced upon us and all, but maybe he remembers me from the time we met at the N Magazine shoot?” you ramble in complete disbelief. “God, Joshua. What if he doesn’t like me? Or I don’t like him as a person? We’d be so miserable, maybe it’s not too late-”

“You know you can’t change his mind once he’s set on it, y/n.” Joshua sighs, gently grabbing you by your shoulders to ground you. “Besides, what’s not to like about you? The only thing you should be worried about is whether or not you’ll like him.”

You break out into a dopey smile, touched by Joshua’s kind words. “Aw, Joshie, are you flirting with me now?”

You see a hint of panic flash through Joshua’s widened eyes, but his phone beeps with a notification before you can call him out on it.

“Oh my god, I almost forgot,” Joshua says after pocketing his phone. “You have a dinner with him tonight.”

You’re late to the dinner.

Which clearly would not give Soonyoung a good impression of you, you realise, as you silently pray for Joshua to drive faster.

In your defence, Joshua had only informed you about the scheduled dinner barely an hour before it was supposed to happen, and you were at your office in your father’s company building sorting out some PR stuff for a newly-debuted boygroup, so you had a grand total of about forty minutes to prepare yourself for the dinner. Which, after reducing the travel time to your apartment to get ready and to the restaurant, left you a whopping ten minutes to spare.

Which is how you ended up in this predicament, at least ten minutes late to your first official meeting as a soon-to-be married couple.

You don’t even realise when Joshua finally pulls up in front of the restaurant, and he has to gently nudge you to snap you out of your stupor.

“I’ll be waiting out here when you’re done, okay? Everything’s going to be fine,” Joshua smiles softly, reassuring you with honey laced in his words. You shoot him a nervous smile, bidding him goodbye as you scramble out of his car and into the restaurant.

The restaurant is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. You guess you’re considered a child of nepotism (a “nepo-baby”, as Joshua calls it), yes, but you’d stopped relying on your father’s black card to get by, instead depending on the pay you earn from your job (which technically comes from him since you work at his company as the PR team leader of a newly-debuted boygroup, but it’s still your money nonetheless) that honestly isn’t much, but you get by, so you couldn’t ask for more, really. Contrary to popular belief, you don’t really do fancy restaurants, hence your surprise.

Your first thought is that this restaurant is overwhelmingly bright. The place is decked out with so many chandeliers, and there are so many utensils laid out on an empty table for two you’d think there were at least five people having a meal there. You briefly glance at an occupied table and wince upon seeing the measly portion of the food, knowing you’ll probably have to get takeout later.

Your second thought is holy shit, Soonyoung’s right there, and he is ethereal the moment you spot him a few tables in front of you, seemingly lost in thought in a booth in the corner of the restaurant. He’s dressed to the nines in a crisp navy blue button down with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of black slacks, and his hair is nicely slicked back with a few strands framing his face, your heart nearly stopping at the sight. He makes eye contact with you as you stand there like a total idiot and looks away before you beam at him, like he didn’t recognise you.

Right, you think, he probably doesn’t recognise you considering the last time the both of you interacted had been four years ago. You take a deep breath and mentally psych yourself up as you walk over to Soonyoung.

Soonyoung looks visibly confused when you stand in front of him, and you don’t know if you should be amused or offended.

“Hi,” you begin, “I’m y/n.”

As if a switch was turned on the moment you introduced yourself, Soonyoung’s gaze hardens, and you feel yourself shrink a little under his piercing eyes.

“You’re late,” he practically spits, venom lacing the two simple words.

“I’m sorry, I got here on short notice, I only knew about this like two hours-”

“Save it, I don’t really care. Let’s just get this over with.” Soonyoung grumbles, not even bothering to hide his eye roll. Hurt flares in your chest, and you timidly take the seat across from him.

“Um, so, I think we’ve met b-”

You’re cut off once again as Soonyoung closes his eyes and sighs in visible frustration, his breaths becoming quicker. “Look, uh, y/n, I have no intention of being, like, friends with you or whatever, okay? You folks sprung this up on me like I’m some kind of object, so you can’t expect me to act like all of this is fine when it’s really not. Let’s just get this dinner over and done with and go back to our expiring freedom, yeah?”

“Soonyoung, but you… agreed to this. Willingly,” you protest, confused at the rude tone he’s taking on.

Soonyoung scoffs, cocking an eyebrow at you. “I have a girlfriend, y/n. Why would I accept this willingly?”

You don’t talk after that, and just like that, there’s an unspoken agreement that that was the end of the conversation for possibly the entire dinner.

Your food arrives, in portions made for children just like you expected, and you eat in silence, willing yourself to stay calm. Maybe he’s just having a bad day, you try to reason, blinking back tears.

Or maybe, the voice deep inside of your head pops up, you’re doomed to be in this loveless marriage forever.

You jolt out of your trance as your fork clatters to the floor with an ear-piercing sound, and you smile sheepishly at the neighbouring diners who had turned to see what the commotion was. Picking up your fork and laying it on the table, you decide that you’ve probably had enough for the day.

“It was nice, uh, meeting you. I should go now,” you purse your lips together and try your hardest to not burst into tears in front of Soonyoung, though if he notices, he gives no indication. You stand up and leave after a few seconds of silence, feeling increasingly suffocated.

As soon as you step out of the restaurant, you let out a huge breath, the first tear slipping out of your left eye. Through your blurred vision, you see Joshua stepping out of his car, hurrying over to you.

“Oh my god, y/n,” he frets over you, swiping your tears away with his thumbs. “What did he say to you?”

You continue sobbing as Joshua wraps his arms around you, leaning your head on his shoulder as you shake uncontrollably. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Let’s get you home, hm?”

You nod in between sobs, letting your body go limp as Joshua walks you to his car.

The ride home is silent, your mind clear of all thoughts but one.

You’re doomed to live out the rest of your miserable life with a man who cannot and will not love you. Not now, and not ever.

a/n 2: i hope this was okay!

taglist: @slytherinshua @xomingyu @belladaises @pepperonidk @tastymintchocolate @smilehui @dahliatopia

masterlist

[hoardingpuffin]

SkyBound SMP Characters as Fewjar Songs

Because I have an agenda and the agenda is getting more people to listen to Fewjar. The fandom are like 20 people we need more.

Vast - Lateniteaha

God, I still have so many questions

I'd be dead by now

But I wanna find out

What only the dead know

Especially now as Vast is figuring out what the Avicane actually are and is figuring out who to be after learning that information, they simply have Lateniteaha vibes to me.

Rune - Cepheus

How did I end up here, stone bound?

All I feel ist the striking distance to the clouds

My flesh is fettered on the skin of the soil

But even so I almost reach the sparks in the void

There is a theme in Cepheus of desperation and being stuck in a place, which reminds me of Rune, especially considering how he seems to view themselves and considering the crumbs of backstory we've gotten so far.

Sylph - Go For It!

Something we put together

From pieces we found

Of a broken jar spread on the floor

It's not whole again

Can't be filled up to the top

Yet a beauty lies inside the pain

Sylph to me seems like the type of character that looks at like, a broken apart piece of furniture or clothing and goes "I can fix that up" and then with the help of hot glue and sparkly tape and some neon paint they actually do fix it up and yeah, sure, it's not perfect and it's not without scars but it's something new and beautiful and crazy. In the best way. Best type of character in my eyes.

Taliesin - Yesterday's Eve

But everything is at a turning point

Light is coming in

Raised dust's telling the story

Again, and again, and again

Yesterday's Eve has this theme of passing through, of change and uncertainess that seems to fit with what we've gotten to see of Taliesin so far. We'll see if my opinion changes as we see the flamingo more.

Marcel - Treasure

Pale hands

Nothing to get so serious about but

Let us be honest

In peculiar moments of

Never never letting go the sum of my parts

Over and over again

I will admit that the lyrics of Treasure don't match up with Marcel, at least not 100%, but something in the vibe of the sound and the music video makes me think of him so there.

Armor - Gemini

Exposing scars

What have we done?

Composing lifelines always won

Don't you know where we came from

Where all began?

In all honesty, we literally had one stream with Armor so this is based on vibes and vibes only.

Pietro - Lo

Searching for a deeper sense

In a pile of vowels and consonants

In a pleasant appearance

A Sisyphus- mountain to ascend

Pietro gets one of my favourites and my favourite Fewjar music video! I can't 100% pinpoint why, but something between the sunlight/dawn aesthetic of the video and the almost pleading nature of the chorus make me thing of Pietro and her relationship with his brother.

Virgil - Skeleton

So hold on to me

Although our way won't be

a safe terrain

Oh hollow me

Tell me would you hold on

To a skeleton?

I will be so honest, Skeleton is less Virgil-specific and more it reminds me of both Virgil's relationships with Pietro and Giovanni. The themes of burying yourself in work or a cause even to the extent of ignoring ones own safety that rings through Skeleton - yeah.

Avalon - Chalkbird

Crystal sparrow come with me

Cause I recognized

That you, just like me

Don't belong to this place

Pinning a song for Ava was hard as hell but Chalkbird makes me think of her and Rune and their relationship so tadaaaa.

Gaverin - A Bleakbox of Insights

Irrelevance is my playground

And loneliness is my hometown

Covered in dust lies

A conspiracy

When you listen to Bleakbox at first you might say "That's not at all Gaverin" and to that I say: "I see your point but rewatch the bits where Gaverin talks about their family and read between the lines because that's what I did and that's how I ended up with Bleakbox" /lh

Cosie - We Wonder

We got time

So much time

And we wonder

We wonder, we wonder

If everything's on hold

Why don't we hold each other?

This is mostly based on the vibes Cosie gives off to me? Not 100% sure if the song fits lyric-wise but the vibe itself seems right to me.

Erin - Levitation

I didn't pick Levitation because of the lyrics, but because of the sound of the song itself. To me, Levitation sounds like a mix of lonely, whistful and comforting and those vibes to me seem like they can align with Erin.

Ashril - Despite This

I'll be filling my ears with some fire crackle

So you can't call me

Sky is covered by crowns, your smoke signals

They won't reach me

I cannot be convinced that Ash isn't running from something. Thus, Despite This.

[lovepookie]

₊˚ෆ The Perfect Love Scheme - p.sh

♡ sypnosis: a jack of all trades by self proclamation and loser-nerd in actuality; park sunghoon would stay at home for the rest of his life if it wasn’t for his party-hungry friends. his quiet and anxious demeanor when you first met him in the club is exactly what makes you greatful he didn’t though. tonight was the night you were going to convince your friends that you were going home with someone. maybe then they’d finally leave you alone about love. a little love scheme never hurt nobody, right?

♡ genre: fluff, kinda suggestive, pinch of angst, strangers to lovers, non-idol au, fem!reader

♡ 6.5k word count

♡ warnings: cursing, anxiety mentioned, suggestive, drinking mentioned, sarcastic jokes?, please let me know if there’s any i missed!

♡ nano note: i really hope yall like this as much as i do! sunghoon has been terrorizing me lately so i needed to write something. feedback is greatly appreciated! xoxo

.♡.

Sunghoon doesn’t know who the fuck said you couldn’t find love in the club.

He wants a name, a number, a fucking address. Maybe then he could track them down and show them—not tell them—how wrong they are; he’s quite literally staring at the very definition.

The moment he spotted you on the dance floor, you quite literally rendered him speechless and when your eyes met his for the first time, he felt a hot feeling surge through his chest. Sunghoon has had his fair share of relationships and failed talking stages, yet he doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this before.

You were gorgeous.

There was something about the way you danced about carelessly in the dark; not one worry in the world. You looked so free; like you belonged to you and only you. You didn’t seem to care if people watched you, you didn’t care if people were actively judging you. You were just being your authentically free self whilst the music ran through and moved you like you had not one thing to lose.

Wow.

Sunghoon wishes he could be like that.

His crippling anxiety had gotten worse as of recent and he felt trapped into an abyss he couldn’t run from, just worries and more worries piling onto one another. This, in turn, had him all pent up in his room for a couple of months. He for sure thinks that within the last year his social skills have gotten worse too, so there was really no reason to go out into public and socialize if he didn’t have to, right?

He wouldn’t want to embarrass himself.

Yet here he was.

Maybe letting Heeseung and Jake drag him to the hell hole that was this busy night club located in the middle of Itaewon’s party district wasn’t such a bad idea. They had been on his ass for a long time now about going out to party on the weekends, and they’d finally gotten him out of the house tonight. Yes, this took a lot of effort on their part, and yes, Sunghoon almost had a mental breakdown whilst waiting in the line outside to get into the club, but his friends weren’t going to let him go home until he was wasted it seems.

He was being forced to have fun.

Heeseung had practically grappled him by the scruff of his neck onto the dance floor, drinks in both of their hands threatening to spill as he uttered; “Sunghoon, let go of your fucking pride and worries for once. Literally nobody is going to remember tomorrow—including you.”

But boy, was he wrong.

Because, how could he ever forget you?

You in your cute little dress.

You and your pretty face; eyes so entrancing and wonderous. At the same time the energy exuding from your demeanor was that you were quite guarded and closed off.

You read ‘tread carefully’ when anyone on the dance floor got remotely close to you, and you stayed relatively close to your group of friends—yet to him, this was more the reason to be so enthralled with your presence. This sentiment couldn’t be truer the moment you caught his eyes staring at you too.

The previous look of being preoccupied with yourself had changed painstakingly slow, and a pretty smirk curls onto your lips when you had realized you’d gained an audience.

His audience.

He wanted to die and ascend to heaven right then and there—he swore he’d be perfectly okay with that too.

Sunghoon paces himself as his thoughts run rampant at the sight of you moving closer.

Pretty girl is coming over here, pretty girl is coming over here—she’s coming over here fuck!

And as he awkwardly sways about on the dance floor, a very strained and creaky look taking over his figure-skater frame as he fixes the chunky framed glasses on his face, he swore that the strangers dancing about must have been paid extras or something—they quite literally started to clear the way for you.

Like you were Moses.

Like you were some extraterrestrial and heavenly being.

Like you were parting the red fucking sea.

“Are you okay? That babe is like…staring you down and making her way over here.” Jake whispers as quietly as he can to Sunghoon over the blaring music.

This does no favors for Sunghoon’s erratic nerves, and he inwardly has to talk himself down from raising his hands back up to his mouth in order to bite his fingernails habitually.

“Yeah, I caught a glimpse of her a couple weeks ago when I was here,” Heeseung butts in, “From what I’ve gathered, she doesn’t really talk to anyone but her friend circle.”

Then why the fuck was she coming over here?

Sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s making a big deal out of this either—ultimately, you could go anywhere you wanted.

“Nah, she’s kind of approaching us right now-“ Jake is able to get out before Sunghoon is jabbing him in the stomach with his elbow.

Within a few seconds you were standing in front of them three; a pretty sexy smile on display that Heeseung doesn’t think he’s ever seen you wear before.

Sunghoon is going to shit himself.

“Hi, Uhh- My friend over there was wondering if you were single. She wanted to talk to you actually.” You say, shifting to stare Jake dead in the eyes.

This wasn’t like you.

I mean yes, you were definitely lying right now and no friend of yours had even seen these three on this side of the club, but you couldn’t really contain yourself when you caught the raven-haired one staring you down. Yes, you had always preached the importance of falling in love with yourself and learning to be comfortable with being alone to your sex-thirsty friends—but you had to admit this one was a looker and warranted your curiosity. So, you broke your own rules and approached undeniably the best looking trio of men you think you’ve ever seen before—and there was no time for your insecurities to say you couldn’t.

“Who? Me?” Jake says, completely confused by your sudden gaze detaching from Sunghoon and being expectantly placed on him.

“Yeah, she’s the blonde back there.” You state, looking over your shoulder and pointing to your very lesbian friend.

She could play the part whilst you figure out a way to distract the doe-eyed looking guy. Your friends did this all the time with you, so it was their turn now. You’re sure they’d be more than happy to know you’ve taken interest in someone too.

“Oh, well if you’ll excuse me.” Jake says, bottom lip going between his teeth after he smiles at you, then he’s quickly sauntering off towards your friend.

You pass him a smile back and pray to every god in existence that your friends read the room before you’re turning back to the other two men.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we got your name…” Heeseung starts, sending you a very amused smile as he places a friendly firm arm around Sunghoon to tap him into being engaged with the conversation now that you were standing right the fuck in front of him.

“Oh! My bad, I’m Y/n.” You say, outstretching your hand for a quite formal introduction for the club.

You don’t let the burns of embarrassment that sprall out across your cheeks faze you though—the beauty-marked boy seems to like you still by the looks of his matching pink ones.

The doe-eyed one shakes your hand firmly first, then pretty boy does, albeit a bit shaky. “I’m Heeseung, this is Sunghoon.” Bambi states, obviously doing you both a favor and trying to get the nervous looking Sunghoon to start talking.

Sunghoon just smiles like the biggest fucking idiot on the planet as he holds his breath for your next words.

Cute.

You liked that.

“It’s really nice to meet you guys, uhm, Sunghoon? Would you like to dance?” You ask, placing all your cards on the table right away because tonight you were feeling quite interested in this one. Sunghoon burns from the inside out as he takes a few moments to process your words.

Pretty girl’s standing here? Pretty girl’s asking me to dance?? Fuck fuck fuck!

“Uh- Well, i don’t really like dancing-“

“He loves to fucking dance! Of course he would!” Heeseung cuts him off, both of his hands going to Sunghoon’s upper back to push him towards you maliciously—I mean, benevolently!

Sunghoon’s eyes go wide as they stare at your very pleased and amused expression, and he doesn’t know whether or not to stab or thank Heeseung the next time he see’s him.

Only time can tell.

“Cool, let’s go.” You state quite simply, reaching out and grabbing onto Sunghoon’s hand and softly pulling him along with you.

Red hot blush shoots down the back of his neck as he caves in and decides to follow.

You hastily turn around once you get to a good space on the dance floor for you two, and immediately pull him closer to place his hands on your hips. He feels he can’t take his eyes away from you, completely entranced now as you smile and lean in to whisper; “…You can touch me, loosen up pretty boy.”

When you pull away with that sly but inviting smile still plastered on your face, Sunghoon suddenly decides that the dozens of eyes and possible dozens more camera phones in the room don’t fucking matter anymore. His hands lightly lift off your hips as he then decides to pinch the sequins of your dress in order to pull you closer by the fabric in the most politest, non-loser, totally un-nervous way possible.

You just smile up at him as you let a laugh out, because now your proximity has you realizing just how tall his pretty and nervous self is.

He sends you a bashful smile as you start to sway to the beat, then your arms find their way around his neck. There’s a few moments of him just swaying until he gets more comfortable touching you again, but the way your eyes dared not to deter from his made him feel like he could get on the floor and do the fucking worm and you’d still choose him to dance with you.

Were you a vixen?

A temptress of some sort?

Was he going to be lured to your bed chambers where you cooked him in potions and used him for spells?

He thinks he just might consent to this with the way you trail your hands down to grip and hold onto the collar of his shirt to pull him down to your height this time.

“How have I never seen you here before?” You ask over the music, quite endeared by his everything. Then he smiles; his striking brows, beauty marks, and newly unveiled and very pointy canines all come together so seamlessly to form this big butterfly in your stomach.

You became curious about just how many girls and guys—and hearts in general—have been lost and entranced by that face.

“Uh-This is the first time in a long time being here actually. I don’t go out much.” He lets out nervously, his eyes shifting to your lips for a split second before his eyes are on yours again.

This was the exact moment where you decided to get a glimpse of his own lips—and damn, you were suddenly filled with many ideas of how to make sure they’d be placed on your own later tonight.

“Oh, is that so?” You say through a smirk, tilting your head to the side as you dance. This is where Sunghoon starts to feel all giddy inside.

You were really cute, too.

“Yes…” He confirms, tilting his head to be parallel with yours, and for once he feels a spark of confidence. Before you can even blush at this cute gesture, he’s winking at you quite smoothly.

This sends your butterfly morphing into thousands, and when your heart rate speeds up at the prolonged eye contact that you two hold, you realize you can’t take it any more. You distance yourself from his lean figure whilst your right hand finds his own before you’re turning around and interlacing his hand with yours as his arm drapes around your shoulder; your back now pressed to his chest.

Sunghoon feels he is going to pass out right here, right now, because wow, you smell amazing as his hand instinctively finds your waist; the both of you two-stepping to the beat. You both continue on like this, Sunghoon making eye contact with Heeseung from across the way and being met with a thumbs up and a wiggle of the eye-brows.

This ultimately makes Sunghoon blush harder as he goes to push his glasses up further on his nose bridge to busy himself. When he hears you giggle in front of him over the music, he internally screams because fuck she definitely saw that.

You take this moment to turn again and disconnect your two’s hands so that you could talk to him face to face now that the start of the parasite called emotions has calmed down.

“Your friend looks quite happy that you’re dancing with me…” You tease as you continue to two-step and fix the strap of your dress.

“Oh, d-don’t mind him! I’m not going to ask you to come home with me or anything—I’m sorry if he’s being creepy-“

“What if I want to go home with you?” You cut him off.

Fuck it.

What did you have to lose?

You watch as Sunghoon’s whole face goes red, his eye’s widening as he tilts his head down questioningly at you.

“What?”

You can’t help but chuckle a bit at his shock.

“Sunghoon, can I let you in on something?” You say, deciding to just come clean.

At the same time, you’re peering over his shoulder and meeting eyes with your group of friends who smiled your way to let you know they were watching you. It’s there where a light-bulb turns on and the gears in your head finally start churning.

Is this not the perfect idea?

Plus, he was really cute and shy—what could go wrong? He didn’t seem like a weirdo or a murderer—

“Sure, you can tell me…” He says, eyeing you suspiciously as he still tries to grapple with the words you uttered a second ago.

“Do you see my friends behind you?” You ask, and Sunghoon’s quick to turn his head and see their eyes on him.

“Uh yeah, they’re kind of staring over here-“

“Yeah, they’ve been trying to get me to go home with someone for weeks—I’ve just been blowing them off and having fun by myself…” You say, and you decide to lean forward to get a bit closer to him. “Do you catch what I’m throwing?” You ask, hoping he could help you out with your new scheme to get your friends off your back.

Sunghoon nods as he starts to wrap his head around the situation. “Oh- so you don’t want to go home go home with me, you want to fool your friends….” He states slowly, staring off into thought.

You laugh, pulling him back down to earth, then take your turn pulling him closer by the cloth of his shirt. He smiles awkwardly at this but inwardly he’s cussing himself out for being such a fucking loser who wasn’t meant to say any of that out loud.

“I mean-“

“I know what you meant. You’re right.” You say through a smile, grabbing his hands and placing them both back on your hips that you sway slowly—and just like that he’s back to being speechless.

“I’d really like it if you played the part for me. Think of it as doing me a favor.” You reason, your hands now wrapping around his neck again.

He stares at you through his lenses as he weighs his options.

From the start of the night he didn’t want to be here either—if he’s honest, you were now the only reason to stay besides to please his friends. Plus, if he looked like he was taking you home now, maybe they’d leave him alone and stop worrying about him.

It was a win-win situation.

Fuck it.

“Okay, I’ll take you home.” He states firmly, eyes looking into each of your eyes just as the song switches to something more sensual and down-tempo. You smile in response and try to deny the fact that his words and eyes make the butterflies flutter again.

“Perfect.”

And then he smiles back—cheeks just as blushy as yours.

“Perfect.”

There’s a moment of silence between you as you’re both quick to adapt to the music change. You scan his features again, and he watches you do so, heart pounding hard in his chest. When your fingers go to play with the hair at the nape of his neck as he eyes your lips, it feels like instinct for you two to lean in.

It all plays out so slow.

It feels like millions of years go by as he leans down and a million more when you tip-toe to meet him in the middle. In that hazy-eyed daze, right before your lips touch, you mutter words that almost break Sunghoon’s heart clean in half.

“…This will really sell it, won’t it? I hope they’re watching.”

And still, despite the fact that it’s all for show, his heart feels like it’s stitched back together again the moment he hums as an answer and you smash your lips onto his. It’s borderline intimacy; the way your tongue infiltrates his mouth and the feeling of your plush lips on his. When he tilts his head for a better angle and you hum in response, he’s sure you’re about to win an Emmy, an Oscar, a fucking Tony.

The way the both of you manage to sway slowly to the music at the same time might earn you a Grammy as well; you were a great fucking performer—no, a great fucking kisser.

Sunghoon was going to thank Heeseung.

He was going to kiss the ground he walks on the next time he see’s him outside of the club.

Shit, he’ll name his first born after him.

You were perfect.

—

Shortly after your two’s make-out session that lasted longer than it probably should’ve, you were quick to interlace his fingers with yours and pull him over to your friends where you left your purse. After gathering your belongings and saying goodbye to your friends after a couple awkward moments of them interrogating a swollen-lipped Sunghoon, you quite literally drag him out of the club.

“Where’s your car?” You ask the still blushy and dazed beauty, and you can’t help but smile as you admire the way the moonlight hits his pale skin.

“M-my car? Oh, it’s over here.” He stutters out before taking the lead, guiding you to his car by the hand. After unlocking it, he then opens the passenger door for you and holds out a hand to aid you with getting in. After you take his hand and sit down, Sunghoon smiles your way before closing the door softly. You take this moment to let go of the breath you were holding, the butterflies going crazy again and mind squealing because you don’t think anyone’s ever done that for you before.

It only takes a few seconds for Sunghoon to run around and get in, then he’s starting the car and buckling himself in pretty quick which makes you laugh. “What’s the rush? Can’t wait to get me home?” You chuckle as he pulls out of the club parking space whilst checking his review mirrors.

He laughs too despite his nerves, and you catch sight of his canines again.

Would it hurt if he bit me-

“No, I just thought it’d be good for the theatrics. What if your friends came out of the club?” He smiles, driving out of the parking lot.

This makes you snort.

“Right, of course! Damn, you really thought this through didn’t you? You should become a scriptwriter.” You say playfully.

Sunghoon’s eyes shift back and forth between you and the road a couple times, his smile never faltering.

“That’s actually kind of funny because, I kind of write as a side job.” He confirms.

This makes your eyes widen pleasantly.

“A writing side job? Okay director, actor, writer, dancer—What else do you do? What’s your main thing?” You decide to ask, but not without throwing in a joke.

“Dancer? Are you making fun of me?” He laughs out, coming up on a red-light.

You chuckle and face him, “No?! Your moves are what entranced me before I even danced with you!”

He squints his eyes at you and the car comes to a halt, so he decides to roll his long sleeves up his arms.

“I’ll have you know, I’m a figure-skater on the side too, so i actually can decently dance. But before I tell you what I really do, where exactly am I taking you?” He asks, a new-found comfort finding home in his demeanor. You stare at him for a bit, forcing yourself to keep your eyes up at his face and not on his now exposed veiny arms.

“Uhh, I’m not going to lie—I kind of want shaved-ice. Can we get some?” You ask randomly, voice getting tinier in embarrassment as the words leave your lips.

What?

Maybe you were hungry.

Maybe you wanted more time with pretty boy.

Maybe it was a bit of both.

“I’m always up for some ice cream,” He laughs out, “…but is anything even open right now?”

Your face grows a little hot at the realization that oh fuck it’s two in the morning and he’s right. “Oh, I didn’t even realize…” You mumble.

“We can go to the gas station for a slushy or something still?” Sunghoon proposes, pressing lightly on the gas as the light turns green and immediately shifting lanes to drive to the next 24-hour gas station.

“Please? Sorry if i’m asking for too much.” You say quietly as you sink into your seat; every fiber of confidence in your body suddenly vanishing.

“You don’t need to apologize, I know a nice park close to this gas station where we can drink the slushies.” He says without much thought. This makes you smile wholeheartedly again.

“A park? Is that where you murder me in cold blood? Or are you going to push me on the swing?” You joke, heart feeling very full because; he wants to stick around.

He wants to talk longer.

Now it’s Sunghoon’s turn to sink into his seat as he once again regrets spewing the first words that come to mind. He was usually so careful and quiet before he responds to others, too.

What were you doing to him?

“No! The park kind of just came to mind. Sorry, we don’t have to-“

“No! I want to go. You don’t need to apologize.” You state, repeating his earlier comforting words.

He goes silent, a smile making its way back onto his face as he pulls into the gas station and parks. He takes another moment to smile at you again as he unbuckles himself. You reciprocate it shyly before you’re both getting out of the car and making your way into the store.

“I can fill mine faster than you can.” You say as you two come up on the slushy aisle. Sunghoon can’t help but let a chuckle out at your playfulness.

“I’m not going to race you, I want multiple flavors.” He says through a smile as he grabs two cups and hands you one. You just roll your eyes at him and sigh at his lack of childishness. “True…”

Sunghoon frowns for a second—was he ruining the mood?

“Fine, I’ll race you,” He starts, “…but we have to do half one flavor, half another.”

You smile his way; this double flavor slushy action being right up your alley. “Don’t cry when you lose.”

And so you race.

Everything was going fine.

You were in the lead as the banana flavored drink flowed faster than his pink strawberry dispenser could even keep up with—this sparks a laugh from your lips when Sunghoon groans out of frustration and furrows his brows.

“Ha!”

“Well, you have to do this flavor next for it to be fair!”

“Shut up, I’m trying to focus!”

You both quickly focus in on your drinks that fill to the halfway mark before quickly maneuvering around eachother in a fit of laughter in order to dispense the next flavor.

“I’m going to win-“

“What’s that sound?”

Before you both can comprehend where that sudden high-pitched ringing was coming from, Sunghoon’s slushy machine is filling up his cup at the speed of light as banana slushy squirts quick into the bottom, forcing his lid completely off. The cold sticky drink is shooting quick into the air from off the bottom of his cup and soaks every thing in its wake—including the pretty beauty-marked man.

“What the fuck!” You scream as it happens, backing away and getting splattered on only a bit. Sunghoon is silent the whole time, his eyes tightly scrunched closed.

There’s a few moments of shocking silence before staff is rushing over and apologizing, spewing incoherent statements like; “Fuck, Jungwon! Niki forgot to put the sign up before he left his shift!” and “Jay, please tell me you’re lying.”

You can’t help but place a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing when Sunghoon’s eyes open and glare at you through dirty lenses. You quickly rush to get some napkins along with a sunny-eyed staff member.

“Are you okay? I guess you won…”

“Y/n.” He utters your name for the first time, and even though it’s in a threatening manner, the flutters of various colorful wings inside you are sent into a frenzy again.

“What? I’m sorry, okay, i’ll shut up.” You laugh out, helping him wipe cold banana liquid off of his nice shirt. “We’re so sorry sir! Feel free to use any other flavor whilst we get this mess cleaned up. Your drinks are on us.” Say’s the apparent manager who’s name tag was labeled Kim Sunoo.

“Thank you!” You respond for the now cold and shivering Sunghoon.

“This shit is so cold, i don’t think i want it anymore.” Sunghoon borderline wines as he cleans his glasses. This makes you laugh again as your finger goes to wipe slushy off his jaw. Without thinking, you suck the liquid off your finger.

“Hey, this just means you’re twice as sweet.” You say, giving him a thumbs up and winking just like Heeseung as you watch him change colors.

Park Sunghoon get a grip, you were not supposed to be attracted to that.

“Okay! We can go now, banana boy.” You state after filling two drinks up very carefully.

Sunghoon just continues to shake and glare at you as he walks side-by-side with you to the car. When you both get inside, he’s quick to turn the heater on dispite it being the middle of June.

“Y/n, I don’t think i can get out of the car, I’m so cold right now.” He sighs out as he parks the car. You had both now arrived down the street at the park he was talking about before, and despite it being so pretty with the green grassy field and cute little playground; Sunghoon’s discomfort was more important to you.

You watch as he seems to sip happily on his now free blueberry slushy and you can’t help but laugh at this whilst Sunghoon bashfully smiles because he’s the cause of it.

Man, he wanted it on a record. He’d jump in a pool of any flavor slush you wanted him to if it meant he’d hear you laugh like this again.

“Fine. We can stay.” You say, leaning back into his passenger seat as you side eye him whilst still giggling.

He closes his eyes in a tired thanks as he too sinks into his seat.

“Okay, now you can tell me who you are. Spill your guts banana boy.”

Sunghoon opens his eyes to glare again. “I will drop you off at the gas station and leave you there if you keep that up.” He jokes, resting his head on the head rest and turning his face to look at you through his lashes and lenses.

You blush as you smirk playfully. “Okay okay, I’ll bring it down a notch i guess. Now tell me.”

Sunghoon sighs.

Is this the part where he tells you how much of a loser he really is?

“Well…I’m actually a…uh-“ He stutters out.

“Just tell me. I won’t judge.” You say, a genuine welcoming smile gracing your face as you tilt your head to be basically face to face with his. He smiles, and you watch as his eyes trail over your features.

“I’m an app developer.”

Your brows furrow at this.

“What? That’s not something to be embarrassed about. What type of apps do you make?”

Sunghoon sighs and faces forward.

“I make dating apps.”

Oh.

“But not even the ones that work, it’s the ones that you have to buy into in order to get decent matches.” He mutters, and it’s almost like he feels dead talking about what he does for a living. His eyes are blank. Mind is back to racing and worrying.

Oh.

You frown.

“Ah, so this isn’t your first love scheme then…I’m not your first love scheme.” You say, smiling and staring over at him, tone very supportive and lighthearted.

He looks back over to you and smiles lightly.

“Nope.”

Sunghoon wants to die.

“Well…look on the bright side, somewhere out there is a love scheme that you had a hand in that actually backfired on your silly little app. Like, imagine two people from one of your apps came together when they weren’t supposed to. Yet, somehow…they work just right.” You ramble on, hopeless romantic thoughts that were usually burried deep within spraying out like they were banana slushy.

When you come back to reality, you’re met with Sunghoon’s piercing eyes on you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

There’s goes the eye contact again.

“I never really thought about it like that.” He says, and his hand mindlessly lifts in order to play with the ends of your hair.

You smile, the butterflies now evolving to produce a hot sensation that spreads through your body.

“Yeah, it’s like a perfect love scheme. It’s not supposed to work—yet, it does.” You say, reaching out for his glasses and taking them off his face altogether. You go ahead and place them on your own face, smiling at him the whole time with this idiotic grin.

Sunghoon blushes and reciprocates your smile. He couldn’t see shit now but you were so hot. What the fuck was he going to do??

“Thank you.” He manages to whisper, still staring your way. He doesn’t know specifically for what, but just….thank you.

Thank you for understanding. Thank you for being so inviting. Thank you for even looking his way. Thank you for listening. Thank you for seeing the best in every terrible situation he’s had today. Thank you for existing.

Just, thank you.

You can only muster a nod as the quiet engulfs the warm air between you two. When you finally avert your eyes to take a sip of your slushy, a slurping noise is what finally breaks the silence and garners an embarrassed laugh from the both of you in response.

“Okay Miss love scheme. Why are you avoiding love?” He finally manages to ask, this burning curiosity filling his thoughts the more he spent time with you.

You frown at him.

“Well damn, that’s a packed question.” You chuckle out, kind of taken aback.

“Is it? You seem quite openly avoidant of love, so I thought this was an easy conversation.” He reasons. “We’re a love scheme to trick your friends into thinking you’re giving love a chance.”

You frown harder.

Oh, yeah.

Right.

“Well…To be honest, I’m not sure.” You utter as you look out the front window in thought.

“I think love avoids me.”

Sunghoon just snorts.

You snap your head over to him in question before leaning forward and resting your head on the dashboard rest.

“What? I’m being serious.”

“Is this what they call a beige flag? It doesn’t feel red or green really.” He says jokingly, his body leaning forward to rest his head and arms on the wheel to meet you face to face again.

“Sunghoon what does that even mean?”

“I don’t know—I just feel like you’re a walking beige flag. You seem to be emotionally available but act like you’re not for whatever reason-“

“Act like I’m not?”

“Yes, you act. You’re a walking love scheme.”

Your face twists into almost hurt.

“That doesn’t really sound like a compliment.”

“It is one because you’re like the perfect version you were talking about,” He says, “…you’re like a perfect love scheme.”

The silence that follows his words is nerve-racking, and you can attribute it to the mutual understanding that a perfect love scheme in itself is a perfectly imperfect thing. Something that happens when it’s not supposed to, yet works out just right. Something worthy of a chance—one could go as far as to say it was something strung by fate.

Through the long silence between you both, you try to gather your thoughts in order to stop your fast-beating heart. After a few minutes of you both in deep thought, you start to take note of Sunghoon’s sleepy form getting very comfortable against the wheel.

“Y/n-“ Sunghoon starts before being cut off by his own yawn, “…quit limiting your love potential—especially if it’s what you desire deep down.” He says like it’s the most simple thing on Earth, just as his eyes struggle to stay open.

A smile makes its way onto your face. You watch as Sunghoon quite literally falls asleep on the wheel of his car, pretty dark long lashes resting against his pale cheeks, beauty marks adorning him perfectly.

He was perfect.

—

Sunghoon wakes up to the sound of a car honking, almost startling him into a heart attack. He doesn’t know where he is for a good five minutes and it takes him another two to realize that he’s in a car in general. His head hurts, he feels sticky, and his neck is so sore from laying forward on the wheel all night.

Why the fuck am I sleeping behind the wheel?

A little blurry look around and he spots a slushy cup.

Wait…

The memories come racing back to him like a banana slushy to the ceiling, and suddenly he remembers it all; why he’s sticky, why he’s in his car parked in front of a playground, why he’s in his party atire and why he feels so giddy at the sight of a slushy cup.

You.

He scans his passenger and back seat and when they both come up negative, he starts to wonder if it was all just a dream.

Where did you go?

He remembers the dancing, your friends, the gas station, sitting in the car and talking; your laugh.

The love scheme.

Could you have really left without a trace?

Did he say some dumb shit when he was tired that scared you off?

He didn’t even get to take you home.

It’s only when he turns on his car do the windshield wipers go ballistic and a yellow piece of paper swiping back and forth across his front window answers his many questions. It takes three seconds tops for him to turn off his car, get out of it, and run around to the front so he could grab the note. His smile is so cheesy and bright, and he probably looks a mess as he goes to sit on the hood of his car to read it.

It’s like it’s the ultimate answer to everything—the feeling stirring in his stomach reminded him of passing notes to pretty girls in grade school with the papers littered in boxes you could check yes or no off of. He felt the time it took to unfold the paper was like a thousand years too—had Christmas come early?

When he finally managed to read the words written on the note he feels his heart just might combust.

banana boy, if you’re reading this, a friend came to pick me up when i woke up this morning. no matter what i did, you wouldn’t wake up…that seems like a beige flag to me idk. anyways, here’s my number if you’d like to stop scheming with me: 000-000-0000. if you still want to scheme, i’m sorry, i can’t anymore. someone told me to stop limiting my love potential. — y/n

Sunghoon doesn’t know what country he’s saved in his previous life, and as he rethinks every good deed he’s ever done to come up with an explanation for you and the ten digits on this yellow paper, he swears his cheeks start to hurt from smiling so hard.

Laying back on the hood of his car, he places his arm over his face as he can no longer contain the chuckles that leave his mouth.

You were real.

Your pretty smile as you chuckled at his stupid jokes in the darkness of his car. Your smirks and frowns and the glint behind your irises. He remembers the laughs and the not-so-subtle touches, and last but certainly not least, he remembers your soft lips on his at the night club earlier that night.

He met you in the club for christ’s sake.

A love scheme personified was what you both were; completely placed on paths that weren’t supposed to meet at all, let alone enjoy that meeting. It was almost laughable, because he swears he more than just enjoyed that meeting a little bit; why did he feel…changed?

Sunghoon no longer felt the need to ever go home because that’s where you weren’t. He can’t help but think about how no matter how sticky the situation got the day before, the way you laughed and supported him through the day, and merely how you simply saw him, had him feeling you were more than just a potential future-fling.

Sunghoon was going to quit his job.

Sunghoon was going to spend his life trying to find the person who said you couldn’t find love in the club so he could shove a banana down their throat.

Sunghoon was completely and utterly taken by the thought of you; no schemes involved.

He’d like to thank the academy, his pushy fucked up friends, his mother for birthing him—no!

Your mother for birthing you.

“Ah…my neck really fucking hurts,” He mutters through a chuckle and pretty upturned lips as he stares up into the bright blue sky. “…I should call Heeseung and Jake,”

“…or should I call her now?”

“…would that be lame?”

2024 © lovepookie

♡ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.

[cowboysandpilots]

Sing Me To Sleep

It's no secret that Steve gets nightmares, not that he doesn't try to hide them; it's just gotten so much harder now that he's been sleeping with Eddie.

Eddie is a heavy sleeper. He sleeps through all his alarms and usually doesn't get up until his uncle literally yanks him out of the bed. It's a different story with Steve. Ever since the younger man had been sleeping over, Eddie was up at every little shift or whimper. He hadn't known that the nightmares were that bad, but most nights, Steve wakes up screaming, and Eddie almost has a heart attack while he wraps his arms around the man.

It doesn't take much to reassure Steve that he's safe; Eddie's gotten pretty good at reminding Steve where he is and making him name the things he can see around their room. The thing that takes the longest is Steve's brain allowing him to go back to sleep. It takes weeks, and they're both exhausted, but Eddie finally finds something that works completely by accident.

Eddie had been hanging out with Jonathan and selflessly let him pick the music. He'd seemed to have moved on from The Clash to The Smiths, and Eddie had been mostly tuning it out until some lyrics caught his ear. "Hey man, what song is this?"

"Oh, It's called 'Asleep,' you like it?"

"Yeah." Eddie smiles, "Can I borrow this tape for a while? I promise I'll give it back."

Jonathan hands the tape over without complaint, and Eddie listens to the song on repeat until he can get it right. Until he goes back to Steve's house, and the inevitable nightmares strike again.

Eddie gathers him up like normal and waits until Steve is calmed down enough that his breathing and heart rate go back to normal. Only then, does Eddie start singing softly.

"Sing me to sleep Sing me to sleep I'm tired, and I I want to go to bed

Sing me to sleep Sing me to sleep And then leave me alone Don't try to wake me in the morning 'Cause I will be gone"

It only occurs to Eddie as he sings the lyrics out loud that they're talking about dying, but he feels the need to commit, and if Steve notices, he doesn't comment. In fact, by the second verse, Steve's eyes are already fluttering, and Eddie's voice trails off, kissing his forehead.

"Sweet dreams Stevie. I'm sorry about the song; please don't die in your sleep."

——

(This is the first thing I've written on here in ages. Please reblog if you can. ❤️)

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