#i wrote this one tonight and didn’t do a lot of editing so idk how I’ll feel abt it later | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaepop-trash · 1 year

Note

not sure if you’re still taking requests for chance encounters but i just read the whole thing in one sitting and love it sm!!! i love your more angsty drabbles so i was wondering if you’d do one where yn and johnny are on a “break” 🥹

Give Up, Give In

There were a lot of requests for going back to the club so I'm just adding some of my favourites:

Anon: I'm just a girl standing here asking for more Johnny (CE) yearning. Make him suffer ma'am 🙏🏻 [Yes ma'am🫡]

Anon: The club is your Chekhov's Gun and it's still lying unfired on the table. [This is the best ask I've ever gotten since this account started]

Anon: Just. More. Dom. OC. [Short and sweet. How can I refuse?]

Mini Masterlist

I was in quite the headspace when I was writing this and you can tell. In contrast to most other things I've published, I edited this painstakingly. Somewhere in the middle I watched Casablanca again and you can actually tell where.

This is just very intense. Idk what came over me, I think the characters came back to me like past lovers do in a dream. I wrote this in a daze. I also surprisingly like this. I'm posting it with love instead of just shrugging responsibility of it. Enjoy!

Warnings: Angst, Angst, Angst; A lot of references to a movie older than the Czech Republic; (There are just a lot of sexual warnings in this one girls) Smut, Voyeurism, Friction play, Light BDSM, Handcuffs and Whipping (not the main characters), Dom! OC/Sub! Johnny, Dom! Johnny/Sub! OC (They are switches in the most literal sense of the term), ribbon play (male receiving) [is that even real?], Abs riding, grinding, Dirty Talk, Degradation; Intense, INTENSE; So much angst like what was I thinking; Johnny's a bit of a babygirl in this lol idk how else to explain it; Pussy-whipped Johnny you are my #1; OC is mean, but Johnny actually likes it (He told me); A lot of misplaced anger and resentment (in a sexy way); Alcohol; Johnny has the kind of sadness in him that you only see in east european gay porn; There is some homosexual themes in this, don't forget that in this world everybody is bisexual (except Tenmin, they are full fruit loops); Bisexuality(?).

WC: 18.6 k (Honestly this can and should be read as a standalone.)

Her focus came in and out of the moment, mostly being drawn back by the occasional whimper or hiss that echoed loud against the cement walls.

It was a mistake coming here tonight. she knew it the moment Hyuck bought it up.

"You look lethal." Yuta crossed his arms the moment she walked into his house, equally confused and somehow proud. Beside him, Hyuck whistled. Both of them eyed her top to bottom, taking in the very nice dress she bought herself this week.

“Absolutely deadly.” Hyuck agreed, crossing his arms in front of him, “So where are we going?” He looked between the both of them.

“For dinner. A bar maybe, judging by how our friend is dressed.” Yuta mused, turning to (Y/N) for confirmation of the plan she laid out.

“What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?” She frowned.

“What?” Hyuck looked between both of them, confused, “We aren’t going to your club?”

Yuta chuckled, “No (Y/N) is staying away from the hallowed grounds.”

“Why?” Hyuck turned to her, looking offended. “I shaved my balls for this.”

Both Yuta and her turned to the boy, incredibly confused and horrified by the information he willingly volunteered

She cleared her throat, deciding it best to ignore it outright, “That’s none of your business, Lee Donghyuck.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I just told you I shaved my genitals and you’re bringing up personal businesses?”

“You volunteered that information.” She grimaced, wondering why she didn’t see this coming. “You can’t just go to there on a whim. There’s a list that’s fixed a week in advance.”

“Aren’t you literally friends with the owner?” Hyuck mirrored her arms.

“The owner's friends gets benefits." Yuta shrugged, "You're roped in by extension, it seems.”

The very mention of the person who was not to be named made her spine straighten, “We are not going to the club. I don’t want him to think I am in his space, I don’t want him to think I need to. It’s a horribly petty thing to do.”

“He might not be there at all.” Yuta offered.

“We are not going.” She repeated herself, looking at the both of them with a sense of finality.

They ended up at the club less than two hours later. After dinner, entering a “normal” club reminded her exactly why she stopped doing this after undergrad. She wanted to just go home but Hyuck and Yuta were both slick menaces. And now she was here.

One of the men in front of her cursed, bringing her attention back to the present.

Her original reasoning to slip into the basement the moment she entered the club was to mitigate even the most remote possibility of being confronted by Johnny. Another part of her was overcome with intrigue once the idea materialised.

The basement was one place she hadn’t had a chance to explore. Initially, Johnny would tease her with the idea of it, but he never lived up to his own promise in that department. A couple of months in, their visits to the club reduced considerably as work got harder and their apartments got more comfortable. Then the matter was never brought up again.

Sitting in it now, she tried to imagine what Yuta meant when he compared it to the few dungeons he frequented in Amsterdam. A few with Ten even— back when he was still single of course.

The place was a lot more elegant than the floors above, divided into confined rooms that felt larger than they were owing to the incredibly tall ceilings. Unlike the rooms on the second floor though, there was no pretence. Instead of looking like hotel rooms, each room was mostly minimal. Despite the baroque display of velvets and satins, each only had one tall bench and a few chairs. The lighting was also much brighter than the intimate dimmed ones above. The lights here were yellow and brazen, nothing hid under them. The most apparent of which were the contraptions and tools displayed audaciously on the walls, ranging from curious to downright frightening.

Despite all that attention, the rooms were also open: no door, not even a curtain to lend privacy to the inhabitants. If she was clueless about what the requirements on this floor were, taking a walk down the length of the corridor gave her the clarity she needed.

Pain of this magnitude wasn’t something she was ready to give or receive from a stranger. But she did gather that spectatorship was a part of the experience on this floor. The chairs in most rooms had at least one person seated, watching as other people made use of the various instruments available.

That is how she ended up here.

One of the rooms seemed to be void of any onlookers. Two men occupied the bench inside, looking at each other with tender trust. She stopped at the entrance, deciding that this was the palatable option. She might even learn a thing or two, she wagered.

At first, they seemed unaffected by her presence. She pulled a chair and sat down at a considerable distance, still feeling trepidation about the intrusion. She watched as they got comfortable with each other, imagining that they met here for the first time today. They decided to trust each other despite, was what she decided.

Sometimes she wished that was how her initial visit to the club went.

“What should we use?” One of the men asked the other, the yellow sleeves of his shirt brushing over the man's cheek. The other looked to be the one calling the shots, so she was waiting to know as well. But he surprised her, turning to look at (Y/N) instead.

Her eyes went wide for a moment, not sure why she was being acknowledged.

“Well? You’re wearing silver aren’t you?” The man asked, his hooded eyes impatient.

Oh.

Her hand went to touch the chain that Yuta had so creatively woven into her hairpin. It was supposed to be half a joke.

Owing to the spontaneous visit, they were unaware that there was a theme tonight. It was classic movies night and none of the three were dressed for the occasion. So they decided to keep the spirit, deciding on pursuing otherwise uncustomary situations. Hyuck said he'd do anything the first person he met told him. Yuta claimed that today would be the day he pursued his favourite bartender. And she put on the silver chain and walked into the basement. A decision taken for the interesting stories it would birth. Much like this one, she relented.

She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to think of what she could possibly say.

“I don’t think–” Yellow shirt began to speak, probably sensing her panic.

“Did I ask you?” The other was quick to interject, keeping his eyes on her.

She looked at the two men carefully, the more compliant one much taller than the one clearly in charge.

“Take your shirts off.” She said first, “You’ve been rubbing against each other like kids at church. It’s pathetic.” Hooded eyes smirked, pleased to get what he was looking for.

“You heard her little boy.” He turned back to his partner, reaching out.

“You’re own clothes. Not each other’s.” She clicked her tongue, expressing her disapproval through her tone.

And that was how it began. They were excellent at following her instructions and slowly she began to take more liberties.

People came and went behind them. The first hint of another presence had surprised her. After that she started ignoring the sound of occasional shuffling.

Except one that spoke with a voice she could not ignore. A familiar one.

Johnny was comfortable in his corner, pretending to listen to Ten explain the theme again.

“I was watching this movie with a friend while she was recovering from a broken leg. And it came to me!” He told yet another person, “Unfortunately, she isn’t here today.”

“What are you talking about?” One of Ten’s friends sat up at that, “I saw (Y/N) an hour ago.” She looked at Johnny for confirmation.

Johnny looked up, at least two pairs of eyes already on him. He shrugged, trying to play off his nonchalance by taking another sip of his drink.

“Babe,” The woman continued, poking the man beside her. “You remember seeing (Y/N) downstairs, right?”

Johnny snorted, “You must be confusing her with someone else.” He said with utter confidence. She would not be anywhere near him if she had the choice. Not after what he said.

“She’s in a white dress today, right?” He asked his partner, who nodded.

“Yeah, she’s downstairs. Martin told me when I went for a cocktail. I wasn't looking or anything.” He added quickly. “Don’t glare at me man.”

Johnny looked away, not realising he was. His mumbled apology wasn’t even trying to be genuine.

“There’s Yuta,” Ten raised his arm to call the man. “Let’s ask him.”

“There is no need.” Johnny groaned, but Ten ignored him with ease.

“What?” Yuta came up, looking thoroughly annoyed. No doubt being interrupted in the middle of something.

“Is (Y/N) here with you?” Ten asked.

Instead of answering, Yuta turned to Johnny. The cautious look he gave him gave him the answer he was looking for.

“Yeah.” He turned back to Ten.

“Where is she? It’s her theme tonight!” Like most other people, Yuta too did not care about Ten’s theme.

“You would not guess.” He said with a grin, sitting down with a conspiratorial chuckle.

And that's how Johnny ended up in the basement for the first time in a year. He walked past each room, looking in to find what he was looking for.

Johnny wasn’t sure what he’d even do when he found it. Would he stop her? Would he watch? Or would he leave her alone like he had himself wanted?

Johnny slowed his steps, only for a moment. Why did she have to come to the basement now? If she wanted to, why didn't she mention it to him? He thought she wouldn't like it. Or maybe he wasn't the one she wanted to share that with. That last thought was alone to add a spring to his step.

His thoughts only spurred him on as he passed more rooms without her in it. Almost crossing one, he stopped to take a few steps back. He had to be sure that the back that was facing him was the one he was seeking.

She was in white like Ten's friend had stated, a dress he never had the privilege of seeing before tonight. Head rested on her hand, she was watching someone else. He relaxed, walking further into the room. Once her side came into view, the relief that came over him seemed to piss him off. Any thought of leaving her alone evaporated with it. This was supposed to be what he wanted.

“I had to see it for myself.” He scoffed, the novelty of the situation only just coming to him. (Y/N) turned in her chair, looking up at him with surprise in her eyes. “Trying new things? You could have told me if you wanted to come down here. At least I know what your limits are. You were never the best communicator.”

“I would assume that I know my own limits best.” She turned away from him, back to the two men in front of her. Not a hint of kindness in her eyes.

He really must have said too much that night.

One of the men sat quietly on the large wooden bench every room had, yellow shirt hanging over his shoulders, in place because his hands were cuffed behind him. The other man stood over him, a flog in his hands. His white pants matched her dress.

“Has he stopped asking for more?” She questioned the one standing. Both the men were watching her, waiting.

“Then why did you stop?” She questioned, voice impatient. “Does the little boy want something stronger?” Yellow shirt nodded like he was waiting for the question.

(Y/N) chuckled, getting up to walk to the small chest of cupboards. She leaned over, making Johnny finally notice the length of her dress— high above her knee. Pure instinct made him turn to the other people in the room, watching her with undoubtedly the same thought on their minds.

“Someone isn’t on theme.” Johnny clicked his tongue. It made the guys turn to look at him, then between the two of them.

Suddenly Johnny felt like they were the spectators, and he was the one on display with her.

“I didn’t plan on coming here tonight, so I didn’t receive the memo.” She didn’t even look at him, standing up with a thick whip in her hand.

“Eyes on me boys.” She turned to the boys, “Do you want this?” She questioned and the one meant to be on the receiving end nodded eagerly.

She chuckled, walking over to them and handing the tool over.

“Such an obedient boy, aren’t you?” She cooed, hand on his chin. Yellow shirt nodded enthusiastically. Giving in to her so easily that it nauseated Johnny. That would get them nowhere.

Keeping her eyes on his face and her fingers stroking his cheek, she handed the whip to the other guy.

“Start slow. You’re being too hostile.” She turned to the man with a warning.

“He likes it.” He defended, her hooded gaze remained bemused.

“I’m the one who’s calling the shots, am I not?” She raised a brow. The man swallowed, giving her a quick nod. As complaint as his companion.

This was no fun.

Johnny scoffed rather loudly, but she ignored him and as a consequence, the boys ignored him as well.

“What will you tell me you'd do?” She continued, focused on the man.

“I will listen and follow instructions.”

“Like a what?”

“Like the slut I like to pretend I’m not.”

She smiled, letting the one in yellow go to run a hand through this one’s hair. He closed his hooded eyes to enjoy the feeling.

“Good. Now do what you’re told.” He nodded and she let go, turning around to walk back to where she was.

Her eyes met Johnny’s finally.

“Can I help you?” She asked him, the tyrannical tone bleeding into the question. Johnny’s cock twitched for the first time that evening.

“You can start by reminding yourself who you’re speaking to, pet. Or do you need assistance?” Johnny tongued his cheek, shoving his restless fingers into his pocket.

She looked at him with disbelief for a moment. When she rolled her eyes, he was sure she was taunting him.

“You can keep your reminders to yourself.” She rubbed her hands together, “I didn’t come here to play with you.”

“Why are you here at all?” Johnny raised a brow, unable to hide the vexation in his voice. Why didn't she tell him she wanted to come to the basement?

It earned him the first flash of anger in her, so far, apathetic gaze. “I didn’t realise you were marking territory? Am I barred from coming here now?”

“I was asking a question.” He took in a cautious breath, realising that she thought he meant the club. Perhaps, the alternative made him look less bothered.

“Can't you see?” she pointed at the two boys, “I'm simply minding my own business. Why have you come down here? Looking for me?” She leaned against the head of the chair she was seated in before, waiting for his response.

Johnny let out a humourless laugh, “Who said I was looking for you?”

“I haven’t known you to come to the basement before.” She pointed.

“Just because I haven’t come here with you, doesn’t mean I’m a stranger to the place."

The words did what they were intended to do, her anger flared with an inhale she tried to play off. Johnny had to bite down his smile.

“Okay, be on your way then.” She flicked her hand towards the exit, dismissing him. "There are other rooms."

Johnny took a step towards her instead, “I stopped at this one because I could not believe you could be a watcher. I wanted to see for myself."

“She told you to leave man, why are you ruining our night?” The boy in yellow whined, making Jaehyun turn to find both men watching the exchange. The other one kept his eyes on Johnny.

She turned to meet his gaze, “Did I say you can speak?” She questioned. The boy gulped, shaking his head. “If you’re that impatient then get on with it. I didn’t say you can stop.” He nodded, turning back to the man in white pants with a demand, his eyes still watching Johnny. He looked familiar.

Johnny whistled and hissed, bringing her attention back to him. “Look at you. Even I almost believe that look on your face. What’s wrong, baby? You sound mad.” He cooed, mocking her.

“What’s wrong is that you’ve sauntered in here to ruin my night.” She failed to hide her frown.

"Ruin?" Johnny's voice raised in taunt. "I'm sorry to disturb your little pageant. You must have been enjoying just how easy this was before I walked in. They're eating up your every word, you must be elated."

Her jaw flexed and Johnny had to resist the urge to close the gaping distance between them.

"If you're done with your tantrum. You can leave now." She aimed her gaze at the door, a single and final order. It was Johnny's turn to flex his jaw. Tantrum.

"If you think this is a tantrum then what should we call your fucking fits?" He clamped his jaw the moment he heard the edge in his voice.

"We don't have to call them anything." Her volume rose, taking a step forward, daring him to continue.

"There it is." He smiled victoriously, "Why don't you stomp your foot while you're at it. Let's show everybody what you're really like under this act."

He could see the way she got blinded by her rage. For him he realised, that was something only he was capable of pulling out of her.

He should have backed off but Johnny stayed pinned in place, momentarily consumed by his sick desires to always get a rise out of her. He knew she wanted it too, her breathing hitched but eyes stayed glued on him. It was deranged but this is what he has signed up for with her.

“Fine," She said after a well contemplated silence. Johnny's lips quirked, knowing he was right as usual. Finally she was going to give in to him. For once. "Take off your chain and I’ll give you what you want.”

His smile faltered, brows furrowing. He regained himself quickly, reminding himself that he was being foolish to believe it would be that easy. Not after he was the one who told her they'd be taking a break. Not after the unnecessary things he'd said.

It was a silly thing that he regretted the moment he proposed it. But the tone she had ignored him for no reason still made his blood boil. At least he had the decency to lay down his intentions in front of her. She had absolutely no right to be angry. And yet, she was furious at him. It was evident in how she refused to so much as look at him since he had made the proposition, acting like he wasn't even there. Refusing to share an elevator, refusing to bring papers to his office.

He wanted to be civil but she went to great lengths to stay out of his path. Even reminding him that he wanted this when he asked her why she was sending interns with tasks that were done easier without the middleman.

It was infuriating and it only offended Johnny further. Even now, he was the one to come here with his pride between his legs. He told himself that he would not give in till she relented first.

“And what is it that I want, Kitten?”

“What you always want.” She turned to walk back to her chair, pulling the object closer to him, letting it grate against the cement floor harshly. “Me.”

Johnny's teeth against each other. Taking his hands out of his pocket, he folded his arms. No, it was her turn to give in.

“I will give you what you want if you take that chain off.” He pointed at her head.

“What I want is for you to leave. If you can’t do that, I will have to abandon my new friends.” She pointed behind her.

They reached a stalemate with her words, silently sizing each other up. In the back, the boys had forgotten about the commotion all together. The sound of clicking locks signalled the introduction of the bondage frame. The next sound was the clean crack of a whip, followed by a harsh inhale once it touched skin. Johnny took in a sharp inhale himself, the sounds tempting him.

“What good will taking mine off do?” Johnny spoke through raspy breathing, “You give up too soon anyway. You don’t know how to be in charge.” Another slash echoed against the walls, this time Johnny exhaled slow. “You only know how to be a brat.”

Despite his words, she smiled, watching him shift on his feet. “Two weeks without being inside me and you’re already forgetting things.”

“Has it been that long already? I didn’t even notice.”

“Sure. The last time you went this long, you were throwing tantrums like this.”

It was Johnny’s time to be racked with anger, his exhale slow, dangerous.

The whips increased in frequency and moans filled the large roam, bouncing across the walls with urgency.

“Go slow.” She lashed, turning her attention back to the couple.

“Sorry." Both of them said together, the one whipping dropped his arm. The other opened his glazed eyes.

Johnny should have brought (Y/N) to the basement himself.

“Sorry what?”

“Sorry, miss.” They said in tandem.

Johnny scoffed, “I never realised what a good teacher I was.”

“What do you fucking want?” She turned back to him, lips twisted with irritation. “You wanted a break, didn't you? What was it that you said?” She finally sat down, leaning back and crossing her legs. “That’s right. “You wanted a change. What happened, are you bored already?"

"No," Johnny shrugged, unclasping his arms from his chest to walk towards her. "I just wanted to see what you were doing with your free time. It's such a pity to see you waste it. The only person bored here is you apparently." This time he did smile, enjoying the way she averted her gaze, "So I came to offer you a game just for tonight."

"Not interested. You need to come up with better excuses."

Johnny hummed like he didn't believe her, shadow falling over his entire form as he came closer. Her brows knit, gearing up to defend the truth. He cut her off before she could even speak.

"Stand up." He ordered, stopping his stride only when his knee touched the chair.

She blinked, practically rendered silent by his audacity. What pissed her off more was how she almost did it, the chair audibly screeching back before she could reign her instincts in.

(Y/N) crossed her arms, mirroring his stance from earlier as she sat back to play off the slip, pretending she was just trying to sit back.

She knew it didn't work when Johnny smirked. She was busy preparing herself for when he asked again, to stand her ground with more conviction. Instead, he leaned down, kneeling in front of her. The act was in sharp contrast to his previous words, giving her whiplash and leaving her out of depth.

His fingers brushed her dress, staring at her lap in a way that made her think he would rest his head against it. It was a thought that had no place in the given circumstances. Slowly he looked up with a tender gaze that was equally out of place.

"What game do you have in mind?" She asked, mostly to distract herself from the way her heart leapt when she met his eyes. After all this time, he still had the ability to make her feel so excruciatingly timid.

"It's movie night." His voice was soft, "Let's pretend to be different people." He ran his tongue over his cheek.

She wasn't sure what to make of the statement. After all this time he never stopped being an enigma.

"Who are you dressed as?" She looked down at his white shirt, making a note of the undone bowtie, "Roger Moore as James Bond?"

"I prefer Sean Connery."

She took the bowtie between her fingers, "You don't have his raw sexual magnetism."

Johnny's lips twitched and she couldn't help the way her own mirrored it.

"If we're going to be playing parts," She sighed, not entirely sure how he'd managed to lure her in. Then again, she was always too ready to give in to him, "Let's play ones different from who we really are. Something to keep this night out of our," She failed to hide the sliver of indignation in her deep inhale, "Current situation."

Johnny licked his lips, looking somewhere between amused and rattled. Yet again, she was stunned by his audacity.

"In that case, I have the perfect thing." He took her hand in hers, bringing it up to kiss her palm. This time her indignated inhale came before a pained exhale.

He came closer instead of finishing his thought, leaning till their noses touched.

"Let's pretend we're in love."

Her eyes froze over in an instant, a foreign gasp making her turn back to the people who were now spectators to her vulnerability. Both of them watched with bated breaths, their own preoccupations long forgotten. They watched her, waiting for her response.

She pushed Johnny without looking at him. Predictably, he did not budge. When it happened the third time she did turn back, liquid rage dripping from her glare. Her mind mulled over a response multiple times, the sort of words that would express her outrage without hinting at her agony. It fell short, not finding the right ones to express how deeply unkind his words were. Not without betraying her closely guarded secret.

He was still close to her, close enough to let her count the lashes that framed his amber eyes, to see the stray one that fell on his cheek. This close it was easy to see that he was the most beautiful man on earth, easy to forget everything and just fall an inch closer. It was easy to want nothing more than to press her lips against his, to forget they were meant to be apart. This close she didn't need to pretend to be in love.

"Oh god." She heard Yuta's voice, cutting through the haze of lust that began to overcast her decisions. "(Y/N)." He marched up to them.

Only when she heard his footsteps stop beside did she turn from Johnny.

"Let's go, babe." He pointed his thumb at the door, whistling to play off the urgency.

She turned back to Johnny, who had moved back a few inches now. Miles, as far as their usual proximity was concerned.

She sighed, pushing her chair back.

"What do you need (Y/N) for?" Johnny asked casually.

"I need to keep her away from you." Yuta clicked his tongue, laughing awkwardly when Johnny turned to frown at him. "Nothing personal, buddy. She made me promise I would." He pointed at her.

Johnny turned to her, raising a brow. Waiting for confirmation.

"Don't bother. My instructions are to take her away whether she likes it or not. You know how crazy our (Y/N) is." Yuta chuckled like he was making small talk. She got out of her chair with a loud screech.

"Let's go." She grabbed Yuta's arm to turn him around, "I need a fat drink."

"You need a fat something." He scoffed, knowing himself that he deserved the smack she landed on his arm

"At least try to think before you speak sometimes." She groaned.

"Just tell her man." One of the boys spoke up, reminding Johnny of their presence. It was the one in yellow, his brows furrowed in deep thought. His companion scoffed, shaking his head.

"Did anybody say you can stop whipping?" Johnny raised a brow at the guy with the object in his hand. "Did you tell him to stop?" He asked the one tied up. Both shook their heads.

"In that case, you need to focus on your own endeavours." Johnny stood up from the floor, brushing the dirt of the knees of his good pants. "Enjoy your night."

As he turned to walk away, the sound of a whip cracked through the silence.

(Y/N) seemed to find more than a few merits in the basement. On top of being less crowded, the basement bar also housed some interesting liquor choices. A tequila bottle with a worm and some Baiju with an entire snake sat side by side on the shelf at eye level. While she would not be trying them, she could respect Ten's sense of humour.

Yuta also swore that this was the bar with the best cocktails. Martin, the bartender, was a legend on the premises if her best friend's claims were true. Patrons would sometimes grace the floor to only stop for a drink. She was sufficiently intrigued.

Nails tapped against the stone surface of the bar as they waited for the cocktails in question. She also waited for Yuta to speak, getting impatient and agitated from his stare.

"I just don't understand why you keep doing this." He huffed. Never one to express any overt opinion on the matter, she was caught off guard by his frustration. "If you really want to stay out of his way then do it."

"I'm trying. He came to me."

“You and I both know that you can enforce a boundary when you want to.” He groaned, looking away like the whole thing was making him uncomfortable. “Look, I don’t want to sit here and act like I can give you any real advice. I just want to ask you if you’re sure about what you’re doing.”

She could never lie to Yuta, not in a convincing way at least. She stopped tapping her nails, rubbing her fingers together and watching the bright lights above reflect on her nails.

“I know what I'm supposed to be doing. What it’s supposed to be like.” She mumbled the confession, spotting a chip in her nail enamel. “But it’s confusing with him. Everything is confusing with him.” Teeth ground against teeth as she let the words wash over her. She needed a manicure. She needed to stop doing this to herself.

"This has started to feel self-inflicted to me." Yuta assessed with accuracy.

"It needs to end." She spoke, the words rattling her to the core.

It was the only way left now.

"Then do it? What exactly are you waiting for?" Yuta raised a brow, making it blatant that he was baiting her.

Her lips parted, answer ready on her lips. She bit her tongue the next moment, putting the thought away.

"How do you just expect him to notice that you're this in love with him when you put so much effort into hiding it?"

She looked up at him fast, "I’m not–"

"Spare me, (Y/N)." He cut her off, "The only person who can't tell is the man himself. And that’s only because he’s too busy being in love with you.”

“Stop.” She shook her head, “That just isn’t true.”

“Are you stupid?”

“Fuck off, Yuta. You don’t know all of it. You’ve seen him be nice, you’ve seen him take me to the orthopaedic’s, seen him get me drinks. But you don’t know how he is. If Johnny loved me, he would say it.”

“Like you say it?” His brows furrowed, looking angry. She had never seen Yuta angry at her.

“It’s not the same.” She took a deep breath, her lungs fracturing from the force. A sound of wood cracking filled the air, followed by the laughs of multiple people. She turned back to see the cause of the commotion. Someone shouted that a bench broke, followed by a reassurance that everybody was fine.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yuta spoke after, “You keep torturing the guy because you don't know what to do about how you feel. And you torture yourself because you don't want to make a decision." Yuta paused, giving a sympathetic sigh. "I love you, but it's not fair, you know that. He drops everything for you, I can’t believe you don’t see how he lets you toy with him. He’s always at the mercy of your whims and he doesn’t even mind it. Do you want to be the kind of person who does that to someone? He’s a decent guy."

She knew he was right. But he also didn't know all of it.

"I don't want to torture him." She admitted, keeping her eyes fixed on the white bar top, “He's always trying to get a rise out of me and I just,” She paused to sigh, yet again feeling confronted by her own state. These were things she’d never said before. “So I give him what he wants, a fair fight. I don't know how this ended up being the kind of thing where we keep pushing to see how far it can go.”

Yuta frowned, visibly bothered by the notion. She couldn't blame him. It seemed to be like this all the time now. Both of them looked for reasons to fight lately, like they were testing to see who would get up and call it off first. Loving him made her angry and picking fights made it easier to pin that anger on the right target. He had begun to find her frustrating as a result.

"Why not just talk it out? It can't be worse than it is now?" Yuta questioned.

About this, he would be wrong. She knew Johnny too well by now. He would try to play it off, say that they can give it a shot without meaning it. Johnny was used to being admired, he would never understand its intensity. He would take it as easy as he took most things and it would ruin her.

"I think," She paused, looking up at the ceiling with a groan. "I'm not afraid of rejection. If he said no it would hurt, but I'd move on." She looked back down at her friend with a heavier heart. "What I'm afraid of is that he would say yes without meaning it. He's okay with everything. If I asked him for a relationship he'd say okay, if I ask him I never want to see him again he'd say okay too. If I asked him for the real thing I'd want it to work. But I don't know what he wants."

She sighed, thinking about how complacent he was about everything. When she decided to ignore him on a whim he left it alone, when she decided to spend the last week of her recovery at Yuta's he was okay with it. He was okay with her sleeping with Doyoung and when she told him they don't anymore he was okay with that too.

"Johnny is just always okay with everything." She spat the words, before she sighed again. "I know that's not fair I just–" She paused again, entirely lost on what she even wanted. "If he loves me, he does a terrible job showing it."

“Oh,” Yuta said. To his credit, she could tell that he was trying to understand. “That does sounds complicated.”

That was what finally made her laugh. Complicated was exactly what she’d spend her entire life avoiding. It was why she spent her weekends with her friends and why she was insistent on keeping things casual with Johnny.

She nodded in agreement, a pitiful smile lifting her lips. "I'm ready to take all of it too. That's how afraid I am to be without him. I keep playing his games and I keep making new ones. Hoping it will keep him interested. Hoping that for once he'd say more than okay. Even if it was a no." She groaned, once again angry at herself.

"What happened to you?" Both of them laughed, her face scrunching.

"I don't know, man. I've tried so many times to figure out how I let a person rattle the peace I’ve spent my entire life protecting. A man who could replace me without any effort."

"No one can replace you." He sounded offended.

She scoffed, mostly finding his reassurance touching.

"I get that you're moping, but you make no sense." Yuta's brows furrowed, "He's wrapped around your fingers."

"That's just because I keep him on his toes." She shrugged, "To overthrow predictability is to strive for more compelling experiences." She repeated the words Johnny had said to get once, the words leaving her tongue bitter.

Yuta tapped his knuckles on the bar with a frustrated groan, pointing an accusatory finger at her. " I told you to not play fuck monopoly. You've gone and turned it into a tournament." Yuta groaned, knocking his shoulder against hers.

"I should have listened to you.” She admitted, lips twitching when Yuta looked surprised at the confession. “Sometimes I wish it wasn't so combative. If I wasn't so afraid of losing him every second he's with me, then maybe I'd love him without fighting it all the time."

The words left her heavier than she imagined, wishing she really could do it. When she wasn't so busy fighting it with all her might, she knew that loving him was worth all of the things it came with.

"You can just love him." Yuta's words made her close her eyes in denial, "Everybody is at the risk of being lost, no? Nobody comes with a guarantee, why should he? I could have a heart attack tonight while having the best sex of my life and you will never see me again. You don't fight our friendship? Why fight this?"

She looked up a little at loss, unnerved by the wisdom Yuta suddenly imparted.

"What?" He asked.

"I can't believe you just live, laugh, loved this." She snorted. Despite everything, she felt more grateful for Yuta now than she ever had before. "I appreciate this. Really, you are my ride or die." She gave his hand a squeeze.

"Aw, you're so sentimental. Do you still want me to keep you away from Johnny?"

"Yes."

Yuta sighed, "I guess I was also being too optimistic expecting you to change overnight. Think this through when you can."

"I will." She promised.

"That's good enough for me."

Leaning against the bar, head resting on her palm, she took in another deep sigh. (Y/N) had lost count of how many it had been. A deep melancholy had settled in her bones and it could neither be shaken off nor be cured.

"What can I get you?" The bartender came up to her.

Her order came to the tip of her tongue like it was second nature, a glass of whatever red was the best. But she stopped herself when she realised that it was Johnny's second choice, not hers. Then she thought to ask for a whiskey but immediately realised that it was Johnny's first. Maybe making a simple decision shouldn't be so complicated.

"A gin and tonic for the lady, Martin. The one you make with the lavender gin." Johnny spoke as he took the seat in front of her. "Since she walked into my gin joint of all places."

The words made her finally realise what he meant to dress as, a humorous smile tugging at her lips.

It had been a while since she'd seen him properly. Johnny had spent most of the past few weeks on a work trip, spending the remainder of his time on the recording floor. The rest, she took the effort of being out of his way, taking his need for a break to heart. A break from her, he meant. It was the least she could do.

Right now, in the depths of her despair and with two glasses of two different liquors in her, she allowed herself a good look.

To her misfortune, he looked as he always did. As breathtaking as the first day she walked into this club. He was different behind these walls too; always at ease, not exhausted, not burdened by the condition of his position. In here Johnny was always just a man.

She seemed to understand then. He wanted a break to get back to this, to be carefree and fun. Without the predictability and bitterness that had settled into what they had. Her fingers squeezed the edge of the bar.

Johnny ran his index finger over the rim of his glass, mixing the sound with the tapping of his shoe— making some unknown melody. The action brought her attention to the flicker on his wrist, from where hung a single gold chain. Her eyes wandered to his collar, where the silver chain from earlier was missing.

"What brings you here, Miss?" He sat back in his chair, his eyes sparkling under the sparse lights.

She took a moment, taking his words in. His question was an open ended request. She could be anybody she wished right now, say whatever she wished. She could be carefree and fun, be as unpredictable as she liked.

She could make him stay.

"A miscalculation. I thought it would be an enjoyable night. Yet I'm stuck making boring small talk with a man who thinks he can order drinks for me." She couldn't help the words, the anger from before still remaining. If he wanted time away from her then why did he keep coming in her way? Why did he make it hard for her to walk away from him?

She could be anybody at that moment. Yet, (Y/N) chose to be herself.

Johnny's eyes danced with embers, tongue darting out to lick his eager lips. He chose to be himself too.

"My apologies, Miss." He tipped his head, not meaning it in the slightest.

"You seem to know my tastes." She picked the drink up once Martin placed it in front of her, giving him a quick smile.

"I am a man of many talents." Johnny answered.

"I was talking to the bartender, Sir." She turned to him, nose raised high. Martin chuckled, apologising to Johnny almost immediately after he could. The title was meant to mock the one he used for her. Yet the very formation of the word on her tongue reminded her that it was a word between people they were trying to run away from at the moment.

Johnny's lips twitched and she couldn't tell what it implied, what he was reacting to.

"What brings you here?" She asked, humouring him at last.

"To this place?"

"To me."

Johnny chewed his bottom lip, clearly a little frustrated at her adamant need to be difficult. In truth, she couldn't be sure why she was being like this either. But Johnny liked when he was cornered, rendered retortless. And the distress marked so clearly across his face made the depths of her belly twist in a way it hadn't in weeks.

"Do you gamble?" She asked him, once again steering the conversation away from the dead ends she sent them into herself.

"I did once, lost everything I had."

"That must have been hard. My condolences to you."

"It doesn't matter to me. At least we'll always have Paris." He gave her a smile that was uncharacteristically warm. It pulled her out of the act, reminding her of what she was missing.

(Y/N) remembered making Ten and Johnny watch the movie. One of her all time favourites, she had warned him when he complained about the cliché premise. She knew that was why he was doing this. She just couldn't tell if it was out of spite or affection.

"My husband is waiting for me upstairs. I must go to him." She stood up, breath catching in her throat when he caught her wrist.

"Your husband is gambling."

"My husband doesn't gamble."

"We all gamble, my love."

She jerked her hand out of his hold, the words stinging her like a live wire. Sucking in her teeth she couldn't help the way her face twisted, seething.

"You will be back." Johnny sat back, face neutral.

"Why would I?" She tapped her hand on the bar, lifting her drink into her free hand.

"Because we all have something at stake." He let her hand go, eyes shifting with sorrow. She wondered if he'd always been such a good actor.

Johnny played her face over in his mind so many times that he hoped it would dull the pang in his chest. Could it really be that bad? Did she hate the idea that much? Was being in love with him that unpleasant a thought to her?

He groaned, sitting up on the sofa. The sound earned his friends attention, Ten turning to him with a particularly impatient gaze. He looked ready to say something.

"Can you just–" He began, his husband's hand coming up to stop him.

"Johnny needs another drink." Taemin gave Ten a warning look, turning to Johnny after. "There's a good Japanese whiskey out today." He offered with a smile, pitying him.

Johnny wanted to scoff, but he was aware that he had successfully over wrung everybody's patience. So he nodded and got up to leave.

He realised that he had become the reason he avoided the fancies of things as tedious as love, sitting here by himself drowning his aching sorrows in alcohol too expensive to be drunk so copiously. Just like the movie he had made fun of, Johnny was yet again a cliché.

"This needs to stop." He mumbled to himself, not remotely drunk enough to pull half the antics he did tonight.

Johnny had always believed that he’d find love when the time was right. He never sought it out because he believed that these things happened on their own. The fact that he spent the entirety of his twenties building his company was something he was proud of. He didn’t believe he had wasted the time.

In truth, Johnny had spent his entire life working towards something. Too occupied to ever feel loneliness in the way it was perhaps meant to be experienced. Which was probably why he wasn’t prepared for it. Love had finally found him and Johnny was plunged headfirst into wanting something that he failed to work towards. There was nowhere to go. What he wanted was right in front of him. He just didn’t have the courage to grab it.

He heard the hesitant intake of breath he’d recognise anywhere. The sound dragging him out of his musings.

"You were right." Her words pierced through his thoughts.

Johnny halted the urge to whip his head immediately at the sound.

"Are you here to finally gamble?" He spoke to his glass. She came around to stand in front of him, shaking her head.

Her hand reached out, moving the few stray strands off his face, When he flinched at the touch, she retreated her fingers quickly.

"You aren't the only one to have lost everything in Paris." She spoke carefully.

He sighed, the sound more like the wince of hot sand when it finally rained. Looking up, his eyes met her vulnerable ones, the ones he’d keep making the same stupid mistakes for. The ones he'd happily run into a million dead ends for.

Johnny put his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She didn't fight it and he was sure that his relief was written across his face as he rested his forehead against hers.

“Who are you really?” He sighed.

“We said no questions.” She sighed along with him; caressing his hair, playing his game.

"We have to stop doing this to each other. To ourselves." He let the liquor speak for him, soaking up the courage it came with. Johnny took a breath, telling himself to take the leap; to say what he needed to say, to ask for what he yearned to have.

Her hand landed on his arm, squeezing. “Johnny.” Her whisper trembled past her lips.

“Hmm?” He said with incredible caution, squeezing her tighter and bringing her closer. Slowly he opened his eyes, waiting for her to speak.

“Let me go. I don't like this game anymore.” She tried to get away from his hold.

Johnny’s brows furrowed, “What?” He breathed out, not expecting that. He was being serious, he needed to speak before he lost his nerve.

“Just,” She huffed. “Move. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” She hit his shoulder when he didn’t listen.

“You came to me.” He reminded her.

“Yes, and now I want to go.” She grit her teeth. “Please.” She pleaded, practically whimpered in pain, and his hands relaxed the very next moment, letting her go.

“Whatever, (Y/N). I’m tired of this.” He turned away from her.

Despite her earlier insistence, she faltered. He could see her watching him from the corner of her sight, hesitating. Just as he turned to call her out on it, or to finally ask (he wasn't sure), a voice called his name. Both of them turned.

“Hey Johnny,” It was Jessica, the model. “Can you come with me for a moment?”

Johnny turned his gaze to look at (Y/N), finding her jaw gritted and eyes fixed on the girl. His lips quirked despite himself, tongue sliding over his lower lip as it lifted.

“Sure.” He sat up, “I was done here anyways.” He stood up from his seat.

“What?” Johnny stopped in front of Ten. If the way he snapped didn’t betray his irritation, he hoped his face did. “Why did you send Jessica to call me?”

Ten turned to Johnny, taking in the apparent displeasure with a frown of his own.

“Yuta mentioned that he’s meant to keep the two of you apart. I thought I would add to the effort.” Ten shrugged.

Johnny ran her hands through his hair, “Okay.” He groaned, sounding anything but. “But why did you send Jessica?”

“She was passing by and she knows you.”

“Yeah but now (Y/N) thinks–” He paused, exhaling in a way that sounded like another groan. “Nevermind. Did you even want anything?”

“Not really.” Ten smacked his lips, “If I avoided all the people you’ve slept with in my club then I would have had to go call you myself.”

“You should have since you’re so passionate about this. (Y/N) can make her own decisions, just leave it alone.” He flicked a pillow from behind Ten, making the guy fall back into the sofa.

Ten turned around, eyes laced with intention.

“You’re a coward Johnny.”

“Ten.” Taemin cautioned but his conviction did not falter.

“You need to grow up and have a real conversation with the girl you love.” He continued, giving his best friend a pertinent look. “You’re just punishing yourself and that girl for no reason.” His face softened for a moment, looking like he was pitying Johnny. “Sometimes we ruin things beyond repair by letting it be.”

“You need to,” Johnny took a step closer, “Leave it alone.” It was a plea, partially because he knew Ten was right.

“He’s right.” Taemin interjected, “You can’t meddle in his matters.”

"I'm not meddling." Ten hissed at his husband, "I'm tired of watching my best friend wallow in a misery of his own making." He looked at Johnny, "It won't go away if you ignore it. And it won't change till you do something about it. So why?" He asked.

Johnny rubbed his hand over his face, not in his right mind or place to have this conversation. “You don’t get it.” He said with a lost voice.

“You have to do something, Johnny. Do you expect to live in limbo?” Ten added.

He expected her to deal the death blow. Something he would not say out loud. This entire time he had expected— practically hoped— that she would be the one who would have left by now. He would have accepted it, he would have swallowed it as an inevitable, and he would have taken solace in having been right from the start. That she would get bored of him.

He had been so sure of it that he wasn't prepared for this. He hadn't accounted for ever making it this far.

Johnny nodded to Ten, a silent promise. His friend was right, no matter how much it pissed him off. Johnny knew he would at least have to make a decision soon.

(Y/N) walked away from Johnny with cold hands. This was it, her steps faltered. She walked as far away as she could. All the preparation she had done for that exact moment had evaporated with his words. She couldn’t believe that she ran away like she did, only delaying the inevitable.

He was ready to do it, she could feel it in her bones. She could read it all over his face.

I’m tired of this.

That was the exact indifference to the matter she had feared most of all.

Whatever.

It was like being stabbed by a rusted knife— messy and unnecessary in its cruelty.

Whatever, (Y/N).

Her head hurt, she pushed through to get deeper into the club. To somewhere she could not be found. She needed to prepare herself better for this. She was afraid she’d beg him to say, afraid she’d cry. This wasn't the place or the state of mind she needed to be in for this.

Whatever.

She took a deep breath. No, she needed to prepare herself better.

She couldn’t believe that he would do it here. And he would have. Her exhale came out irate, he would have held her in place and told her he was tired of her.

He would have finished the thought had it not been for the model. Miss belly button herself. Her next breath came out utterly furious.

She was tired of this too, she coaxed herself. Tired of being stuck in limbo with the most elusive man she could have possibly laid hands on. She was tired of loving him too, she lied to herself.

She stopped, realising that she was in the emerald alcove. Yuta’s favourite corner. It was a cosy spot lined by arches that circled the area, littered with chairs that were closer together. Each arch had large and thick curtains that were never drawn, but nonetheless served as a visual policy that added to the sense of seclusion it was meant to emulate.

It was also the part of the club where Johnny had fucked his blonde companion on that night.

(Y/N) shoved the thought out of her head as fast as it emerged. The first order of business would be to stop thinking about him all the damn time.

She picked up her drink from the bar, a sweet and potent cocktail this time, her kind of drink. Looking around to find a corner to sit in, her eyes landed on a man at the bar. One she recognised. One of the guys from the basement. The rough one with hooded eyes.

"The glasses really change your face." She sat down on the bar stool beside the one he occupied. The man looked up, surprised to see her.

"Usually people tell me how used to my glasses they are, that my face feels empty without them," He smiled to himself. "But I suppose we met under extraordinary circumstances." He tapped his glass, still giving her an odd look.

"You look disconcerted by the memory." She pursed a smile.

"Not particularly, I just didn't think I'd see you again. I'm a little surprised in all honesty." He commented.

"It's a small world." She shrugged.

"It's an even smaller guest list."

This time she did smile.

"I do finally understand why new faces are such a sensation around here." She continued into a new territory, enjoying the confusion on his face.

"Isn't it so?" He snapped back into a casual retort almost immediately. "It gets awkward really fast when everybody is a friend of a friend."

"Speaking of, where's your friend?" She looked around, wondering if he was close.

The guy smiled, almost like he was expecting it. "Why? Would you prefer his company to mine?"

She looked back, "I'm just curious." Her shrug was noncommittal.

"He must be around here somewhere." The man shrugged back, equally evasive. "We aren't friends, we just fuck sometimes. These big, important men and their secret need to be in the palm of someone's hand." He told her like she somehow knew what he was talking about.

She gave him a puzzled look that made him chuckle.

"I thought Johnny Suh used to wear copper as a joke." This time he steered the conversation into new waters, "But you, I always knew were the silver type." He pointed a finger at her, more victorious than accusatory.

"Nonsense." She laughed.

"You're a natural. I knew it on the day the man spent the entire evening on the floor with your foot in his lap."

"I," She paused, stunned at the mention of the day. From the perspective of a virtual stranger nonetheless. "I can't believe you saw that." She blushed, the memory coming back. It was a joke, something they did to see how their friends would react. It never occurred to her before now how it might look to an onlooker.

"Small pool." He shrugged, "When I first started coming here, I had my eyes on him. But it's easy to tell that he's not the surrendering type. So when I saw that, I couldn't help but have my eyes on you."

She was surprised by the easy confession, an effortless breeze .

"Did I live up to your expectations or was it disappointing?" She questioned, playing her surprise off as flirtation.

"Yes and no." The man smiled, pushing his specs higher up. "On one hand I've finally solved the mystery that is Johnny Suh."

"Oh.” She stopped to wonder if she should ask him to elaborate, thinking against it immediately after. “And on the other?" She asked instead.

"I really wish you did more than just watch."

Her mouth opened with evident surprise, the words so easily said. An absolute and uncomplicated request. The man laughed, clearly enjoying the surprise on her face. It made her snap back.

"Maybe in a few months, we can get back to this." She half joked.

"Months?" He winced, "Are you going on a trip?" He sniggered.

She smiled, not willing to elaborate any further.

"Something to look forward to nonetheless." He raised a glass, "I think your usual is waiting for you." He pointed over her shoulder, making her turn.

Her usual was sitting on one of the sofas, at a considerable distance. She wouldn't even have noticed him without the prompt.

"Well, your glasses work for sure." She squinted. "Trying to get rid of me?" She asked while trying to gauge Johnny's expression. She was unfortunately not wearing her own glasses.

The man laughed, "No, I just believe that some things are best left unbreached." His voice was careful.

She turned back, "And here I thought you were flirting with me."

"Oh I absolutely am. I just have different tastes. Also best left unencroached." He licked his lips.

Her eyes fell on the movement, "I have ears and an open mind." She looked up deliberately slow.

"I don't know, will you just using me to make a point?" He teased, eyes darting behind her.

"You don't seem to mind being used."

His cheeks turned red and it made her lips twitch. She had been denying herself the extent of what the club had to offer, (Y/N) realised.

The man's eyes went behind her again just as she heard shuffling. She rolled her eyes to the heaven's themselves. Eventually, she'd tire of Johnny's predictable antics. Maybe then she'd tire of her own too.

"Is she bothering you again?" Johnny put a hand on her waist, effortless and clear in its intention.

"We were just getting to know each other." The man smiled.

She realised that she hadn't caught his name yet.

"Are you finally socialising?" The question was blatantly aimed at her. But she pretended not to understand, turning to call the bartender over instead.

"A repeat?" The server pointed to her glass but she shook her head.

"Water."

"Time for us to go home, babe?" Johnny leaned down, his breathy question warning her neck. The heat from his hand burned her through her dress as well. The assumption in his words burning her pride.

"You're intruding." The words slipped from her tongue. She didn't look at Johnny but the other man looked up at him with a glint in his eyes.

Johnny laughed again, this time a little more nervous. Good, she thought. She was done pretending to take him in stride.

"(Y/N)–" Johnny began, his words careful.

"Go home, Johnny." She interrupted. "Didn't you say you were tired?" She turned to look at him. Johnny looked down at her with a heavy frown. She braced herself for some dreaded response. But he said nothing, just watching her for a fleeting moment in a way that gave her hope. Hope that immediately soured when he looked away.

"I'm actually tired." She said simply. "You might have to go look for belly button again. What was her name, again?"

"You never asked her name."

"Right. It's for the best, I suppose." She grit her teeth, hands tightening around her glass. "It would be a long day if I tried to keep up with them all."

His eyes glimmered with ill intention as he leaned closer to her face. Pride made her stand her ground, not look away.

"I've done it to you too. If you want me to do it again just ask." He licked his lips, a heated reminder of a few months ago when things were so very different. Every inch of her skin flushed.

"Fuck you." She spat, the implied consolation in the words enraging her from head to toe. Especially when he didn't sound consolatory at all.

She turned when she heard the chair beside her move.

"Leaving so soon?" She asked the man. He shrugged, adjusting his glasses and giving her a nod.

"Come on." Johnny nudged her, "We're done."

"No, I'm just getting started." She met his gaze from the corner of her eyes, You can go back to whatever cunt you crawled out of." She eyed Johnny's unruly hair, ruined by god knows what, truly at the tail end of her patience and pretence.

She turned back to give the man a smile, "I'm sorry, please just ignore him."

He gave an uneasy laugh, looking up at Johnny before back at her. Before the man could get another word in, she felt Johnny close in again. This time his fingers slid down her arms.

He did it so deliberately slow, so expertly, that apart from breaking into goosebumps, she also visibly shivered. His lips part against the shell of her ear, the sound rattling her spine.

"The only cunt I'm crawling in or out of is yours. I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure that out by now." He kissed the skin under her ear, making her shut her eyes. The words and the action did exactly what he intended. She melted against him, heart soaring at the confession.

The chair beside her slid back further, making her eyes open. "Never a boring day in this club." The man chuckled to himself, walking away after giving her a last wave and Johnny an amiable nod.

"I hate you." She spat at Johnny once he was gone.

"Okay." Johnny said, not even pretending to take her seriously. "Come, I want to fuck you." He brushed his fingers over her knuckles. The words made her stomach twist and clench. "I even wore your favourite little chain." He took her hand in his, the gold chain hanging from the wrist.

Her lungs slammed her heart, no doubt exhausted by its flightless fancies. He was giving her what she wanted. It was all she would have. Johnny was giving in to her for once.

Fuck. She cursed in her head. Just this once.

She still didn't turn to look at him, "Will you honour it?" The words came out easier than she would have liked. Johnny hummed against her ears, lifting her hand to his lips.

"Anything you want." He kissed the tips of her fingers one by one.

"Are you still playing your game?" Doubt made her ask the question, finally daring to turn just enough to see his face. She wanted him to say no. He looked up and remained silent instead.

Her ensuing exhale was one of surrender, "Fine, let's play."

A game was all it was, she supposed.

Johnny lay back in bed with a kind of cocky smirk that looked like he had already won. She couldn’t fathom what he was so proud about. But then again, he had no clue what was to come.

“How will you have me?” He asked, undeterred by the weight of any consequences. He put his arms behind his head, relaxing further into the bed. She didn’t answer him, turning her back to him to peek through the amenities drawer. After rummaging through all the intriguing objects, she settled on a long satin cloth. Running it between her fingers she closed her eyes to feel it, deciding that this would have to do.

When she turned, his eyes were waiting, taking the object in.

“Are you going to blindfold me to deprive me of your pretty face? Or will you do it to yourself to pretend I’m someone else. The man from earlier, perhaps?” He raised a brow.

She said nothing, keeping her eyes roaming and on anything but him. Gently, she put the cloth down at the very foot of the bed before walking into the washroom.

When she returned, Johnny’s brows were furrowed. He tried to smooth it out when she came into view, but the subconscious frown on his lips remained. It made her purse a smile.

For all his menacing ways, Johnny was a generous lover. His intention was to push her beyond the edges of her flimsy patience, going a little further each time till she was surprised at her own limits.

But he was also kind in a way that he didn’t realise. Johnny would take his time, but the man always gave in before he intended. True to his personality, he went with the flow and stayed starkly aware of his partner. She could always trust that he would never push her beyond a limit she could not handle.

She however was not the same. Not as seasoned as he was, she was driven solely by her need to stake a claim on his bottomless patience.

Her need to control him was unique to him only. (Y/N) had never desired to conquer a man like she wanted to conquer Johnny Suh. It made her petty and it made her unpredictable. He had known how to push her buttons from the first day she walked into this place. Even before that, Johnny always knew how to push her professionally. He drove her to blinding rage that left her vulnerable.

It made her mean in retaliation. Her method was to distress him in an effort to shatter his usual easygoing resolve. She liked to watch him beg as much as he did her, but more than that she liked to watch him as he let her get away with it all.

She was always at his fingertips. But he was also wrapped around her fingers. And she'd take every opportunity she had left to remind him of that.

He turned to look at her, trying to hide his growing impatience. She untied her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders with a sigh.

She stopped at the edge of the bed, eyes going over his entire form. Her eyes halted at his legs, returning to his waiting gaze with a silent instruction. Johnny decided to play dumb, raising both his brows in clueless question.

She didn't move, watching him with such impassive patience that a part of her was impressed by her own restraint. There was a silent stare off that she promised to win on account of the indignation she'd been holding at bay for two weeks.

Johnny smiled, a thought sparking his eyes.

"You do it." He stared at her, "Please?" His voice dripped with his taunt.

She turned away from him, walking back to the foot to pick up the sash she left. His eyes followed her as she came back. Sitting beside him, she placed her hand across his torso. Tilting her head to her shoulder she watched him for a second, eyes storming with contemplation.

"Come here." She finally said, fingers brushing over the buttons of his pants. He moved so fast that he almost threw them both off the bed. Her lips twitched and she had to look away to bite it back.

"We don't know each other." She said softly, fingers flicking the button off. When she looked up, Johnny's brows were furrowed in confusion. "We're strangers who met here today. That's the people we can pretend to be."

Johnny chewed on his bottom lip, looking like he wanted to say something.

"It's my turn. That's the part I want to play." She reinforced her idea, taking his silence as agreement.

Johnny nodded, confused but intrigued by where this was going. She was angry, it was plain to see. Johnny had never really seen how her fury looked when it boiled over. But he hadn't expected it to be this silent. He tried to push down the fear it brewed deep within his bones. With all his pushing, Johnny also knew how to pull back. So he allowed himself to go along with the game, hoping he hadn't pushed her too far.

When she did pull his pants down, Johnny's dick stood up like it was peering to catch a glance. As usual, a traitor. She unclenched her fingers, the sash falling on his legs. Still unsure of its purpose, he extended his hands to her, wrists held together.

She looked up at him with cold amusement, "Do you want to be restrained that bad?"

"What else could it be for?" He asked, voice betraying his impatience.

"You don't need to be tied, Johnny. You never do. It's not like something so flimsy would hold you anyway." He watched her toy with the object, gingerly wrapping one end of the cloth around her palm a few times. The other end still resting against his thigh.

"Then?"

"What? Don't trust me?" She raised an expectant brow.

"Right now, I'm not sure what you're going to do." He gave her a cautious gaze, yet again failing to gauge her state of mind.

"Just lie back."

So he did, he listened to her and relaxed back against the pillows.

She raised her hand flicking the sash up, the material brushed against his dick, making it twitch again. She did it again, moving it back and forth against his tip till he was clenching his thighs.

"What are you doing?" He asked between rapid breaths.

"Don't like it?" She questioned, meeting his gaze. When she moved it again, the smooth cloth brushed over the underside of his cock, grazing the vein that was now bulging. Johnny's hips lifted off the bed. "You seem to like it." She hummed.

She looked back down, spinning the sash around this time. The thing wrapped around his cock in hypnotising circles, covering the length with feather light brushes. When it brushed over his tip, Johnny had to close his eyes.

He had been so on edge all evening, so excruciatingly hard, that his dick was beyond sensitive. It made the delicate friction shoot liquid electricity up his legs, fresh blood pumping into his already stiff dick.

Then she tugged the ribbon with one harsh pull, the entire thing tightening around his length in one exquisite clench.

"Fuck." He groaned, hips bucking up again. "That's–" He began, but the material was already coming loose, making his eyes shoot open just as she let it fall slack.

Before words could form in his mind, before Johnny even tried, she was moving it back and forth again.

"What are you trying to do?" He asked, feeling as confused as he did aroused.

"I'm going to get you off. That's what you want, right?" She blinked up at his face, giving him an innocent look.

He wanted her to touch him. But that felt like a confession of subjugation.

"I'm not going to get off like this." He said instead. Her lips twitched, the glint in her eyes telling him that he'd said the wrong thing.

"Are you assuming, or is that a promise?" She questioned.

Johnny didn't respond, knowing well when he'd walked into one of her traps. She knew it too, returning to the task at hand with a chuckle.

"I'll take that as a promise then." She spoke softly, words as gentle as the satin that brushed against his dick over and over.

With each stroke, he felt the skin get more sensitive than he thought possible. His hips squirmed more frequently, eyes fluttering shut, the fabric edging him to insanity. The precum that was beading at his tip began to make each brush a little harsher.

It wasn't enough to even pretend to search for the beginnings of a build up. Yet it made his cock twitch a little more with each brush, just enough to feel good in what it was denying him. Johnny's lips parted when she wrapped the ribbon around his dick again, brows creasing as she tugged the thing tight around his length. He would have laughed at his state had he not felt so incredibly turned on.

"You love this." She seemed to choke on her own realisation, just as he felt the cloth begin to wrap around his dick again. Knowing what was coming, he braced himself. "Look at you, Whore." She clicked her tongue, "Your fingers are going to tear the sheets."

Heat spread from his forehead down his chest, suddenly too aware of the effect this was having on him.

"I'm trying not to grab your hair and put your mouth where it belongs." He opened his eyes, just in time for her to pull the sash taut again. A moan slipped past his open mouth.

"Where does my mouth belong?" She goaded him, "On your cock?" A dismissive hum slipped past her lips. "Looking at you now, I think my mouth is too good for you."

With that, Johnny could agree. Her mouth was too good for anyone. He wasn't sure that he wouldn't come the moment she so much as brushed her lips against it.

"You've kept me hard and waiting all night. There's only so much a man can take." His thighs unclenched as the ribbon released his length, falling around the base in circles.

"I told you to go bury your busy cock in some other hole."

"And I told you I only want to bury myself in you." He raised a brow, annoyed that she refused to believe him.

He saw the shift in her gaze and the red that tinted her cheeks.

"Let me feel how wet you are." The words rushed out with desperation, taking the liberty the moment gave him. Slowly, he dragged his hands closer to her. Despite the caution she was menacing, tightening the cloth against his base with a swift jerk. The friction made him wince, his hips lifting off the mattress again.

"Take your time with your game. I just want to see how much your pussy missed me."

Her breath came in and out in sharp waves, never too far to not be affected by the right words. Words he knew best.

"Behave." She warned him.

"No." He sat up, enjoying the uneven rise and fall of her chest.

"Alright." She said, letting the sash go entirely.

Johnny raised his head, a little surprised by her agreement. He also couldn’t believe the pang of disappointment that racked through him at the loss of the touch.

"Take your shirt off." She pointed her chin to his chest.

Experience told Johnny that there was a catch, but it also told him to do what he was told. He took off his buttons rapidly, afraid she'd change her mind.

“You’re very eager.”

“I’ve had a long night.”

She got off the bed, bending over to pull her panties off. Johnny licked his lips before he could truly understand and control the urge. She caught the sight, lips cocking in an arrogant smirk. Both of them turned to catch his dick twitch.

She stood up once the garment was off, walking back towards him while Johnny curbed the urge to demand she take her dress off too.

Slowly, she got on the bed. Resting either knee over his waist, Johnny put his arms behind his head to watch her straddle him. Feeling cocky himself, he let a smirk light his lips. When she caught it, her own smirk looked to pity him.

“You’re also very presumptuous.” She started moving forwards. His tip brushed against her clit as she moved, both of their breaths seizing in tandem.

To his surprise, she got a hold of herself before he did, lifting herself higher to avoid a repeat.

Having already lost the upper hand in the situation, Johnny parted his lips. “Do it again.” He asked shamelessly.

She ignored the words, not even refusing or reminding him of his current station. When she sat down, it was on his abdomen. For a moment, his senses blurred.

Johnny could feel the smooth glide of her wet slit, practically slipping.

“Fuck Kitten, You’re so wet.” He hissed, stomach clenching tight along with his fist as he resisted the desire to grab her waist.

“I’ve always wanted to do this.” She breathed out, the shake in her voice betraying the intensity of the sentiment.

“Just listen to your sopping pussy squelch for me.” He groaned, head falling back as he heard the sound of her pressing against him. “You just love using me, don’t you?”

“How can you tell? Are you used to being used?” She questioned.

Johnny thought it was a joke, lifting his head with humour in his eyes. But upon meeting her gaze, he saw it bore into him, looking displeased.

Right.

He forgot they were strangers.

“I know the type.” He answered after several moments.

“Oh? A lot of experience in the area?”

“Mmhm.” He hummed.

Both her hands pressed against his chest, “Eager and presumptuous men should be used once in a while. Keeps you grounded, don’t you agree?” Her hips slid forward, head falling over almost immediately.

She bit back a moan. Johnny smiled.

“I’m not sure I do.”

“No?” Her next glide came as Johnny flexed his stomach, pulling a hiss from her. “You need a change in perspective.”

“Is that what you’re here to do? Enlighten me?” He raised a brow.

She nodded, eyes fluttering closed. With each glide of her hips, it got harder for her to hold still. Soon, her legs were tightening around his waist. They still shook, despite the tight grip.

“Your legs will be sore tomorrow.” Johnny warned.

"You should be more concerned about yourself right now."

"I think I'm doing good." He sighed, lips lifting in a relaxed smile.

"That's unfortunate. We can't have that." Her breath stuttered as Johnny flexed his stomach in retaliation.

Johnny scoffed, "You just love to make it harder for yourself, don't you? Just wait till later."

"Later?" She hummed, hips coming to a halt. "Do you think you'll see me again?"

Johnny chewed on the inside of his cheek. That was not funny to him at all. It leeched what little enjoyment he had and he had to close his eyes to take in a furious breath as she began humping into him again.

(Y/N) couldn't tell why he had gone quiet all of a sudden. She wasn't supposed to care, she wasn't going to. He was doing what she had intended to do. She told herself that his silence was also a tactic. That is why she felt bothered. Her hands pressed against his chest with more urgency, the movement of her hips getting faster.

"Enjoying yourself?" He asked after so long that she gasped at the sudden sound. She nodded, her pace increasing as she felt the knot in her stomach tie itself tighter.

She looked up at his eyes, this close the building pleasure in her core muffled her brain further. (Y/N) leaned in, eyes fixed on his lips. Everything aside, she always missed kissing him the most.

She didn't expect his hand to move at all, nonetheless to grab her chin. He squeezed her cheeks harshly, lifting her face to meet his gaze as he sat up.

"I don't kiss strangers." He reminded her, making her crumble inside. "Understood?" He raised an irate brow. She nodded and he let go as fast as he had grabbed her, bringing his hands back to his sides and relaxing again.

Her pace slowed down a little despite herself. She felt rattled by the words.

Right.

She forgot that he could be cruel too when he wanted to be. At least in these cases, they were true equals.

After losing her rhythm, the tightness in her belly slipped away. No matter how fast she moved her hips, what angle or pattern she tried, she felt frustratingly far away from the build up that never came.

"You don't seem to be doing too good. Need help?" His words were a taunt. She thought it best to ignore it, moving down to sit atop his length. Johnny's head fell back as a sigh left her.

"I think I can manage." She muttered, too distracted by her own frustrations.

"I don't think you can." He spoke through a tight jaw, "Ever used a man before, honey? I don't think you know how to do this." He continued to provoke her.

"And you do?" She asked, sliding over his length. Both of them gasped when his tip nudged her clit, leaving his length wet from her leaking insides. "You look too busy being pussy drunk."

"I'm nothing if not a multi-tasker." He groaned, hips bucking once before he pressed it back down with the sheer force of his will.

She smiled, "That's a lot of promises."

"Give me a chance and I'll show you."

She thought about the first time he was at her mercy like that, the time feeling like it was years ago instead of just one. His every overconfident claim drove her mad, even more so when he lived up to each claim and more.

She thought about her first night here, not even strangers back then. She thought about the first time she had met him. About how she knew him as the man who had built himself a monolith.

In truth, Johnny had never been a stranger to her. She walked into her interview the same way she had walked into the room much like this one a year ago.

Absolutely enamoured by him.

She stopped moving entirely, "Fine."

Johnny lifted his head to look at her, "What?"

She thought about the little things that could have been different the first time around. Whether they would have produced a different outcome.

"Show me." She lifted her arms, surrendering to him.

His hands came to her back in a flash, lifting her and dropping her down in a heartbeat. Her head fell on the very edge of the bed, knocking the air out of her.

"Are you sure?" He asked, eyes boring into hers.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, "Have you known me to offer anything if I wasn't?"

He raised a brow, forehead gathering. "I thought we didn't know each other."

"Your turn." She told him.

The words made him chew on his bottom lip, his free arm tracing up and down her leg and driving her wild.

"Alright. Sit up." He nodded, pulling back.

Confused, she regardless did what he asked. As she sat up, his hands came to her waist, keeping her on his lap.

Her nose knocked into his, the proximity to his stormy eyes making her dizzy.

"First thing," He whispered, hand coming to her hair. "We don't need these." He unclasped the pin that held the chain in her hair, taking the one on his wrist off right after.

She gave him a confused look but didn't question it.

"We play my parts now." His breath hitched, "There are no winners. I don't want to fight, I don't want to win. I don't want to be strangers." She heard the small clink of the two chains being placed on the table, his eyes coming back to hers right after, "I want to make love to you." He kissed her eyelid.

Her chest crumbled at the words, caving in and grinding itself into pieces. Helplessly, she nodded.

He shifted, gently placing her head on the pillows.

"Wrap your legs around my waist." He whispered, words as delicate as his actions. She did what she was told.

"Why are you doing this?" She couldn't help but ask, needing an answer.

"You said you wanted to be furthest from who we are. We're already strangers, (Y/N). Despite everything, I still don't know you."

"You could just ask." She whispered, brushing her knuckles over his chin. "I'd tell you anything you want. All you have to do is ask."

Johnny's eyes steeled over at the words and she bit down on her lips hard, cursing herself for letting her sentiments get ahead of her.

"You were truly born to drive me crazy." He groaned, leaning down to kiss her jaw. She froze, expecting him to kiss her. But his lips moved lower instead, hands coming up to the ends of her bunched dress.

"Taking this off." He mumbled against her skin. She nodded.

He pulled back to do the task, watching her with intoxicating intensity as she lifted her hips off the bed.

"So beautiful." He sighed, "I don't understand how you're mine." He breathed out, making the growing cavity in her chest swarm with butterflies. The lines between pretence and reality blurred long before they even existed.

"The same way you're mine." She dared to say, the thought itself as devastating as it was euphoric.

Johnny groaned with approval, hands slipped between them to pull her panties off, "Should I ease you into it?" He asked, finger brushing over her entrance.

Despite seeing white spots in her vision at the touch, she shook her head. "No, I'm good."

His head lifted, eyes coating with tenderness, something she didn't realise she had been yearning for, "Still, it's been a while."

She tugged at the edge of his shirt, bringing him closer, "Your dick is inside me more than it's outside it." She wiggled under him, her impatience already fighting with her need to cherish this moment, "I promise you, I can take it." She huffed.

"What a filthy mouth," He curled his smiling lips, leaning forward till their foreheads touched. She held her breath, again expecting him to kiss her, but he just brushed his lips over the corner of her mouth. "Did you miss my cock?"

"Johnny," She whined, "Please. I need you."

"Answer me, (Y/N)." He asked and she nodded.

Her eyes screwed shut, "I–Fuck." Her words jumbled, when she felt him nudge against her writhing hole.

"Did you?" He asked with a wispy voice, stuttering.

More than anything else, she missed him. All of him. The confession at the very tip of her lips, threatening to flow.

They were playing a part she reminded herself. For a few moments, she was safe behind it.

She forced her eyes open, "It was you I missed. God I miss you so much I might just go mad."

Johnny forsake his control, slowly beginning to ease himself into her. Every muscle in her body went stuff, endless mutters leaving her lips.

"Really?” He asked through his teeth.

"Every goddamn day." She responded with the same gritted jaw.

He hummed, sounding infuriatingly unconvinced. "Why didn't you come to me then?" He stopped after only a few inches, pulling back out again.

"You told me you wanted a break. From me. What was I supposed to do? You weren't even here. You did everything you can to avoid me."

"You did it to me too." He muttered. To her surprise he pouted, the gesture giving her whiplash as he entered her again a little further this time. "You're so wet, baby. So tight." He groaned, eyes shutting for a moment like he was taking it in.

Baby. It was something he had never called her before. Her insides clenched around him in the same way her heart squeezed around those words— holding the moment as tight as she could. He'd used an array of words to refer to her, to call her, to praise her and degrade her. Yet nothing ever felt like this one. As unassuming as it was. Maybe she was actually mad.

"I can't come and just demand your attention. I'm not like you, I just can't do it." She huffed, frustrated and relieved at the same time.

"You're always demanding my attention."

"That's untrue."

"Is it?"

It wasn't. She did always make an effort to be at the forefront of her mind. Of course like many other things, she'd assumed she was good at keeping it covert. In actuality, like most other things, he was just letting her get away with it.

But this was different. This wasn't about teasing him or toying with his need for excitement. This was him wanting a change. She knew that because he told her as much. It hurt her beyond consolation and she couldn't be in front of him with that.

It had been a year and she had probably become stale to him.

"Why are you fighting with me?" She said instead of acknowledging those things, "I thought you wanted to be in love?"

"This is how love feels like," He looked over her face. "So I'm told." He marched the words with the slow retreat of his length.

On this, she could agree with him. Of all the things people had to say about love, no one warned her how gut wrenching it could also be. She'd hate it if the good parts hadn't made up for it and more.

Her overwhelmed mind made the next question spill, "What does it feel like to you?" She asked him, not sure what she was expecting.

"Like this." He sighed, beginning to push so slightly back inside her. "Like being inside you."

The words made her clench around him yet again. She wanted nothing more than for him to mean those words. Moments like this made her wonder just how she had managed to mask her real feelings for so long. Especially now, when every inch of her seemed to be bursting with it.

"Kiss me, Johnny." Her eyes fluttered open, swallowing whatever remained of her pride to ask for what he already denied her. “Show me just how much you love me."

Johnny’s eyes softened like they melted— glistening despite being in the shadow.

Then his lips pressed against hers and she felt like her entire being lit up with the brunt of her relief. Her hands came to his neck, his to her hips, holding each other like it was the only thing they knew.

She sighed into his mouth without meaning to, the faintest moisture collecting in the corner of her eyes. She had truly missed kissing him. He had ruined the act of it. He had given her the privilege of kissing her, and now she considered it a privilege outright.

It would also be the thing she would miss the most. That and his smile, the sound of his voice when he laughed, the way he said her name. (Y/N) wondered if she'd ever truly be able to kiss another person again.

Johnny's lips moulded over hers like they were completing a puzzle. His hand stroked her thigh gently as her head tilted up to deepen the kiss. He kissed her slow and he kissed her fast, taking his time to navigate each familiar crevice. His sigh was touching, one of relief and comfort. She could get lost in that alone, locking the sound away in her memories.

She'd miss him so much when he was gone that she missed him already. Her arms pressed him closer to her, with more urgency. When he trailed his kisses down her neck, she used the opportunity to wipe her eyes against her shirt, still hanging on his shoulder.

Now Johnny entered her completely, and it took her breath away. Her arm squeezed his neck, his shoulder muffling her moan.

"Good?" He questioned, more as a gauge of her state than to fish for compliments.

"The best." She couldn't help herself if she tried. When he probed the thicker part of her walls she moaned his name so loud that she was sure it could be heard all the way to the basement.

"Yes right there." She added once the stars in her vision dulled.

"Yes, I know." He chuckled, peppering kisses all over her neck and cheek. "I know." He reassured.

"Don't stop." She whined, the pleasure mixing with the flurry of emotions to drive her mad. "Johnny, please."

"I won't." The words accompanied a tender hush. "I've got you." He promised.

"Johnny, I'm so—" He cut her off by grabbing her chin, lifting himself higher and making her look into his eyes.

"I love you. You." He tripped over his words. "I love you so much. More than life itself." He groaned, brows furrowing. "Fuck, you were just made for me and I spend all my time thinking about just that." His thrusts started to get sloppy, only spurred on by her tight grip around him. "That and just how much I fucking love you."

Her lips parted on their own accord, "Johnny, I–" But the words were cut off by a moan as he came with a sudden shiver. The feeling of his come shooting inside her sending her into her own orgasm as he kept up his ridiculous pace.

(Y/N) had never felt hollow the way she felt when he pulled out of her after what felt like hours of just laying there. She couldn't even feel the relief of his weight lifting off her chest.

He was staring at her from the side, she could feel his eyes looking her over, analysing each movement on her face. When he took in a breath— to say something, she got out of bed. Once again fear grabbed at her, mind filling with every possible explanation he would have to dismiss everything that had just happened.

"I should get cleaned up." She mumbled to the floor, not even bothering to gather any of her clothes. She just went into the bathroom and stayed in the tub. Long enough to be sure he was asleep.

Or gone.

(Y/N) woke up to the feel of Johnny’s hand sliding up her legs, resting on her hip. She smiled, pulling her head back to look at him through her slitted gaze.

“Morning.” Johnny’s voice, as deep as it was on most mornings, was too cautious. Her brows knit, confused for a moment. Then the previous night came back to her, reminding her that this wasn’t most mornings.

She hummed in response, “Where did you get pajamas?” She asked, eyeing the dark green t-shirt and pants that she was certain weren’t from his closet.

“The bottom drawers in the dresser always have a pair or two.” He informed her, the first she heard of this.

“Why didn’t I get one?” Her brows gathered. Johnny just gave her a cheeky grin.

“We haven’t spent a night here before, have we?” He questioned her.

“I haven’t.” She mumbled, shifting to bury her face further in his neck then she found it when she woke. But the reminder had ruined the harmless mood.

Pulling away felt too awkward to pull off so she just tried to shift again. Johnny must have read her mind because his arm came back to her leg, pulling it up on his own and leaving a chaste kiss on her forehead. A sigh left her lips, finding comfort in the familiar situation despite the circumstances. The air in the room was, nonetheless, tense. She told herself she'd take away these moments as relics.

None of them spoke to fill the silence. In truth, there was nothing to say. Only when it got too hot did she pull back from him.

Silently, (Y/N) slipped out of bed, looking around to spot her clothes. A knock on the door made her rise, grabbing one of the robes that always hung from the bathroom door.

She opened it to find Charlie, one of the servers, standing with her things in his hand.

“Mr. Nakamoto sent your things.” He reached his hands out with her bag, “I took the liberty of bringing Mr. Suh’s things as well.” He handed her the paper bag as well.

“Thank you, Charlie.” She smiled, “I heard that you’re getting married?” She beamed and the man blushed in response, giving her a shy nod.

The overnight bag she had packed for Yuta’s house was heavy and made it difficult to open it with both hands full. She reached into the packet in which Charlie handed over Johnny’s belongings, taking his wallet out to pick out a note to hand to the man for his efforts.

“Next time you’re manning the bar, I want to know how you met your partner.” She smiled at him and he thanked her for the tip. Once she closed the door, she could put the bags down. Sighing from the release of the burden, she opened her bag to fish her own wallet out, replacing the money she took from Johnny.

“You didn’t have to do that.” His voice came from behind. She turned, finding him leaning against the wall and watching her carefully, arms crossed in front of his chest. She just shrugged in return, coming up to hand him his things before walking into the bathroom.

When she emerged, she was dressed for the day. Johnny was laying in bed with his feet on the floor, looking up from his phone when she walked into his line of vision.

“Where are you going?” He asked, brows furrowed like he was somehow expecting her to stay.

“Yuta and I are supposed to have brunch today. Hyuck too.” She spoke while clasping her watch.

“The breakfast here is pretty good. You can just eat downstairs.” Johnny sat up, phone dropping on his chest and then on the bed.

She looked up at him, lost. Breakfast was another thing she did not know the club provided.

Johnny seemed to catch on, eyes lighting up with amusement. "Really, it's like a hotel if you can ignore the large bowls of condoms everywhere."

She laughed under her breath, “Ten’s more entrepreneurial than you are.”

“I’ll have you know that it was my idea.” He said defensively, smiling nonetheless.

“Oh.” She chuckled, “My apologies. The condoms or the breakfast?" Picking up her shoes, (Y/N) sat down at the edge of the bed.

"The breakfast. The condoms are more of a legal failsafe. Your department more than mine."

Both of them laughed.

The next several moments were silent till she finished putting on her shoes, his hand coming to her waist as she started getting up.

He snaked the arm around her to halt her efforts, “Stay.” It was a single word packed with a heavy request. She could feel his eyes on her in the mirror in front of them, keeping her own gaze fixed on the floor.

“I can’t.” It was an equally simple response, laced with a heavy implication. She looked up at the mirror, meeting his gaze. “We have reservations.” It was a flimsy excuse that seemed to get a rise out of him.

His soft eyes hardened, “You came prepared to stay the night, it seems.” His eyes drifted to her large bag.

It was a petty thing to say and for a moment she wondered if she should lie, give him the shot of provocation that he was seeking when he said the words. But the antagonism that filled the previous night had weighed down on her. She was tired.

"My original plan was to go for dinner and crash at Yuta's. It was Hyuck who insisted on coming here.”

Johnny hummed, the sound heavy with the words he held back, unconvinced. It made her turn to him, “I have no reason to lie to you.” The words were the simple truth and she could tell that it did the very thing she was trying to avoid.

Her eyes wandered over his face, taking in the way he was trying to hide his outrage. She wondered if it was his ego or if she wanted to delude herself into thinking he actually cared. “All this time and I still don’t understand you.” She bit the corner of her mouth, regretting the words for the argument it would spur.

“It’s not like you ever ask.” He slid closer, nose knocking against hers. His eyes looked up from her lips expectantly.

She wondered if he wanted a question or a kiss.

Her phone rang while she debated and she told herself it was divine intervention. Except it was just her best friend.

“Ask Johnny if he wants to go for brunch with us.” Yuta skipped the greetings to land the poignant jab. Of course he already knew who she was with. There was never going to be anybody else.

“No.” She got up from the bed, gathering her things.

Despite every ounce of sense telling her otherwise, she turned to look at him, meeting his gaze to give him a silent farewell. There was the brimming fear of this being the last time, afterall.

The thought made her still. She had to shake her head and look away.

“Meet me downstairs. Did you find Hyuck?” She asked, walking out of the room.

Another week passed and (Y/N) had begun the process of mourning. Taking the last two days of the work week off, she had holed herself up in the safety of her apartment for three days now. The time had been spent consuming enough sugar to remind herself that she never had a sweet tooth, before shifting to the store of sour candy that was seemingly endless. Putting the first one in her mouth made her eyes well.

Finally, she started looking for a different job, her constantly blurring eyes making the task take much longer than intended.

That Saturday night, she fell asleep trying to imagine how she would hand in her resignation to him. What could she even say? How would she avoid explaining to him that she couldn’t be around him.

She simply was not as aloof as she wanted both of them to believe.

The building phone never rang. The day doorman never had to see people come to her apartment unless they were with her or he knew them as her regular guests. The one on the night shift was new.

Her first thought was the most obvious one. It was Johnny, it had to be. But she reminded herself that she had other people in her life. It could be Yuta with some ridiculous situation that only he could have. It could be Doyoung since she had let it slip that her non-relationship with her boss was beginning to sizzle off.

“Hello?” She finally answered the phone.

“I’m sorry Miss, there’s a man here that refuses to give his name. He says you know who it is. I told him that you don’t take visitors this late.”

She huffed. That reduced her guesses to two of the three. Nonetheless, she was grateful for the man’s caution.

“I’ll be down in a moment.” She sighed.

The elevator dinged and she clenched her hands inside the pocket of her hoodie. The one that was not hers. Despite her reasonings, she of course knew who was the moment the phone rang.

Johnny stood in the lobby with his hands on his hips, a frown set deeply on his face. His hair glistened under the lights and her eyes drifted to the doors behind him.

It was raining.

“Your new place is definitely high on safety.” He remarked, lips still downturned. "Your doorman thinks I'm a thief who'd walk through the front door." He pointed behind him, a small grunt leaving his frustrated lips.

She loved him, she realised for the millionth time. This time with a sudden jolt. Despite every rational thought begging her to do otherwise. She loved him so dearly and so hopelessly that she didn't know what to do with it at all.

Johnny looked restless, his feet tapping against the floor. She could understand and she could forgive it. That was how much she loved him.

She loved him. A sigh of relief left her, like the crashing of waves on a rocky shore after it finally met land. It was useless to pretend otherwise. She loved him and she'd let him in anytime he showed up.

He was in a suit, the rain ruining the fabric permanently. She wondered why he was in one on a Saturday at midnight.

His hands dropped to his side, “You haven’t been coming to work.” He said as the gap between them began to close with each stride. “I was preparing for the quarterly distributor meeting and Kun’s notes made no sense. He’s on a work trip too. I had to call the entire legal team into work today because all of the copyright issues seem to be funnelled through you.”

She stopped a few metres short of being in his personal space. “I’m entitled to my leaves.”

“Then you should brief the team properly so work doesn’t stop when you aren’t around.”

He was right, she gave him a nod to affirm it as well.

“Did you get what you needed?” She asked, flexing her fists in the safety of the deep pockets of the hoodie.

“Yes. The intern, Hendery, had a decent idea. I hired him tonight.”

“Good. He’s good enough to replace me with enough training.”

Johnny’s frown went from expressing discontent to a confused one. She'd put the hint in his mind now.

“HR said you’re sick.” Johnny mumbled after a moment of silence, shuffling.

“It’s a cold. I just needed the time off to feel better.”

Johnny nodded, hands coming back to his hips. He kept nodding, deep in thought.

“Is that the reason you came all the way here? I was sleeping.” She finally huffed, feeling the brunt of her own indignation suddenly.

His brows knit, arm coming up so he could glance at his watch.

“Oh.” His face smoothened in one go, “I didn’t realise it was this late. I was just driving around to clear my head.” He slowly put his hand down, biting down on his bottom lip.

She finally took her own hands out of her pockets, only to cross her arms in front of her chest. She knew why he was here, but she wanted him to admit it. She needed him to confirm so she could act like she wasn't giving in without a fight. Her dignity was the one thing she wanted to walk away with.

“I’m sorry!” He finally huffed, following with a groan that came from somewhere deep inside him. She blinked, incredibly surprised. “Is that what you want me to say?” He huffed again.

The last part ticked her off, “I don’t want you to say anything. What are you sorry for? Is it for waking me up because that is fair, but it’s not the first time you’ve done it.” The words were deliberately cautious.

Johnny groaned, running a hand over his face. “You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be.”

“What are you sorry for?” She asked, raising her chin and burying her brimming hope.

He gave her a look of furious disbelief.

“For once,” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was second guessing himself.

“What?” She asked with more anger bubbling in her words, taking two steps closer. He took notice, his own two steps closing their gap. Now they were in each other’s personal space.

“For once, can’t you give in to me?” There was a desperation that made the edge of his words blunt.

She stared at him with disbelief. "From the moment I met you I've only ever given into you."

"I'm not talking about that. I'm not talking about work, or bed. I mean your pride. Put it aside for once. Tell me you want me. Give in to me." He took just another step closer.

Remembering the place, she turned to the doorman, “You can let him in next time.” She raised her voice enough to be heard by the man.

Her gaze softened when it came back to Johnny and she prayed to god that he couldn’t see the glisten in them. Finding a real touch too scathing to execute, she settled for hooking her finger through one of his belt loops.

"You wouldn't be here if you believed I don't."

"I'm here because I'm giving up. I'm done. I don't want a change, I want you."

The confession washed her in a flood of relief. She would love him as long as he'd let her.

"And I came down here because I'm giving in. I don't want a break. Either leave me once and for all or never say that to me again."

Johnny chewed on his bottom lip, taking in the tempest in her eyes.

“Take me upstairs.” He asked like that wasn’t exactly where she was taking him. Like it wasn’t the inevitable outcome he had in mind when he walked into the lobby. For all his claims, he knew how quick she gave into him. “You can sleep, you look so tired. I don't want anything, I just want to be here.”

“You will sleep too.” She announced, turning away to pull him towards the elevator.

Once on the elevator, a thought made her freeze, “The place is a mess.” She warned him, remembering the cave she had turned the place into in the past week.

He gave her a cautious look, “(Y/N). Baby.” He laughed, her gut kicking up an assault at his tender tone. “Your place is always a mess.”

She frowned, taking her hand out of his to smack his chest.

“Hey!” She huffed.

Johnny groaned, a grin tugging at his lips after.

#johnny #nct johnny #johnny x reader #johnny scenarios #johnny smut #johnny drabbles #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct drabbles #johnny suh #nct au #ceo au #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv #miscellenous #chance encounter #angst

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whimsicalcotton · 2 months

Note

36 on the kiss meme?

36 - to give up control

you didn't give me a particular ship so i'm gonna take the liberty of providing myself w more apf because i. am insatiable.

^^^ that's what i said before i started writing and then i got lost in the amberfield sauce. like actually idk what came over me but i straight up just wrote 4.5k of pointless/shameless rachel&max flirting and then took Several days to edit it. sorry? sorry.

--- --- ---

Max Caulfield likes to be sure of herself before she tries something.

Like, super extra mega double absolutely positively one hundred percent sure. It's caused some problems over the years, and maybe everyone else finds it somewhat irksome, but she needs at least some degree of certainty if she has any hope of working past that initial burst of anxiety that so often arises at the mere thought of doing something unfamiliar. So she tends to stick to the sidelines. Asking a lot of questions she hardly puts to use, watching on as others are able to effortlessly do things she can scarcely bring herself to imagine.

Chloe's been helping her out with it. Or at least attempting to. Serving as the (mostly) gentle push Max needs to step out of her comfort zone, trying to teach her how to be a little more impulsive, but always remaining patient and reassuring when Max finds herself in over her head or chickening out.

And then there's Rachel.

Rachel helps in a… different way. Max thinks she overheard Chloe calling it, “throwing her to the wolves,” in a conversation that probably wasn't meant for her ears.

Whatever it is, it’s how Max finds herself in the blaring lights and veritable sea of drunken bodies known as a party. But it's fine. It's been fine. She’s just been hanging onto Chloe for dear life and trying to remember how to talk like a normal person whenever someone spoke to them. No biggie, no problem.

And then they lost Rachel. And Chloe's immediate response was, “Goddamnit, not again.” That definitely added a few points to the metaphorical uncertainty metre.

Though they still had fun off on their own for a bit. Chloe even mixed her one of those infamous red solo cup drinks, so she's getting a good grade in acting like a normal high-schooler tonight; something that is totally not weird of her to want and surprisingly difficult to achieve. It sort of helped and sort of made it worse that Chloe kept checking in with her every so often, looking at her like she was expecting Max to crack at any second.

Max misses the looks. She realizes it as she's wandering through yet another unfamiliar hallway, semi-frantically looking around whatever rooms she finds, having now lost both Rachel and Chloe. She doesn't know half the faces here, let alone names, so if anyone has to be looking at her she'd really, really prefer it be Chloe.

Alas, for the moment it's just a bunch of strangers’ gazes darting over to her every time she pokes her head into a room, searing into her skin even if only a momentary glance. Not to mention everything everywhere is so goddamn loud. Like, unreasonably loud. I don't know how anyone else's ears aren't bleeding loud. Even in rooms where the music is barely audible, there's chatting and laughing and a hundred conversations all happening at once. And don't even get her started on the lights downstairs.

She's just beginning to debate the merits of tearing her hair out over everything when she nearly crashes into yet another girl she doesn't know.

“Sorry,” she squeaks out, wincing at the sound of her voice. “M-My bad. I didn’t mean to.”

The stranger beams down at her. “Hey, no worries. I saw you come in with Rachel, didn't I?”

Max nods vigorously before realizing she probably looks ridiculous and uttering an, “Uhm, yeah,” in its place. “Have you seen her?”

“Looking for her, huh? Aren't we all. She's pretty slippery when she wants to be.” The stranger leans in to put an arm around Max's shoulder, and she goes rigid as a board under the touch. “Come with me, I think I saw her over this way not that long ago.”

“You think?” Max asks, half in earnest and half in reactionary grouchiness.

“Ooh, the puppy can bite,” answers the stranger, grinning at her with a hungry gleam in her eye. Max gulps. “Have a little faith in me. I've partied with Rachel before, I know where she likes to hang out.”

Max can feel her face going red. Maybe those stupid bright colored lights could actually be helpful right now.

Thankfully the very touchy stranger does actually know what she's doing, and it doesn't take too much walking and weaving through the crowd to find a certain flannel-clad blonde. She's at the head of a table full of people playing cards, and Max has no idea what they're playing but it sure looks like Rachel is winning. She's got her signature big, bright, confident smile plastered across her face, and there's a pile of loose change, cigarettes, and joints off in her corner of the table; next to a small stack of empty solo cups.

“Hey, Rach,” the stranger calls over to her, one arm still wrapped around Max. “Is this your lost puppy I've found?”

Everyone turns to look at her. Max’s face goes hot and she isn't sure if all the ensuing smiles are genuine or mocking and she still doesn't even know the name of the girl draped over her and –

“Maxie!” Rachel's voice is just as bright and boisterous as her winner's grin, and she too has taken to Chloe’s habit of calling her almost every iteration of her name under the sun. But Max is sort of grateful for it right now. “C’mere and watch me wipe the floor with these guys. We're almost done with this game.”

The whole table grumbles in protest to Rachel's gloating, but Max doesn't need to be told twice. She ducks out of the stranger's grip and rushes to Rachel's side, half hidden behind her. She lets out a shakey sigh of relief, knowing there's at least a cap on her nerves now that she's near someone familiar. Usually Chloe is her designated safe person, but she's in no state to be picky, and next to Rachel feels about as safe as she can manage right now.

Rachel looks back to give her a softer, sweeter smile before turning to the girl who brought her here. “My puppy,” she snaps, in full seriousness. “Paws off.”

The girl holds her hands up in mock defense and gives Rachel a scoff, turning to leave.

“Sorry,” she tells Max in a laugh. “A girl's gotta stake her claim. She'd eat you up if I didn't.”

Max chokes on nothing. “She'd what?”

“You heard me,” Rachel answers, pulling some cards from her hand and dropping her offering of cigarettes into the new betting pool at the centre of the table without really paying attention, practically playing with her eyes closed. “You are absolutely fucking adorable, after all.”

Max short circuits for a minute while she tries to process the sentiment. A chorus of groans and grievances circle the table.

“Goddamnit, again?”

“What are you a fucking wizard?”

“C'mon, Rach, you're bleeding me dry here.”

“She barely even looked at her fucking cards! What the hell!”

Rachel answers them all with that dazzling smile, tone honeyed and blithe. “I can't help that Lady Luck favors me so.” She nods towards Max beside her. “Especially now that I have my good luck charm with me. Back out while you still can.”

That's something about Rachel that Max can't help but admire. That damn silver tongue, effortlessly charming and always sharp enough to quip back with ease. She's somehow bolder when she's been drinking, if such a thing is even possible. So far Max has only ever dealt with the aftermath of drunk-Rachel, she's never actually been around to watch it in action. She can see why the girl is often considered the life of the party, bouncing from conversation to conversation without a hitch and still managing to make a show of shuffling the deck all the while.

“Where’s Chloe? Weren’t you guys sticking together?”

Max startles back to attention, still disoriented from being off on her own and maybe the slightest bit buzzed from what little she had to drink earlier. She finds Rachel staring up at her with those all too alluring hazel eyes of hers. Maybe Max doesn't mind her looking, either.

To say it's a struggle to get her voice working would be an understatement. “We were. And then we went looking for you and I– I got lost.”

Rachel hums as if considering a particularly tough equation. “Ah, I see, I see. Well, come sit with me for a bit. Chloe will find us eventually.”

Max raises an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure?”

“Poor, sweet, Maximilian,” Rachel replies in her infamous Shakespearean drama voice. “Always so caught up in the pesky certainties of life. Sit, have a drink, see for yourself if I'm sure or not.”

When Max continues standing there staring at her like a very confused fish out of water, Rachel offers her best impersonation of Chloe by grinning like a great, joyful fool and moving to tug Max down into her lap. Both hands gripping her small waist, relishing in the startled little eep it earns her.

“C’mon, Caulfield. Live a little.” She drops her voice to a murmur, husky and low and so close to Max’s ear that she could probably nibble on it if she wanted to. Not that Max is thinking about that or anything. “You’ll be fine. I'll look after you, promise.”

Max shivers and she knows that Rachel can feel every second of it, that she's enjoying it. For a minute still she debates what to do, but as much as she wants to find Chloe, Max also doesn’t want to get up and risk losing track of Rachel again. Besides, she’s probably right. Chloe will find them eventually. She shouldn’t get so caught up in knowing every last detail ahead of time, that’s the whole point of why they brought her here. Like Rachel said, she should live a little.

So she takes in a breath of that jasmine perfume Rachel's so fond of, tries to relax in her hold, and asks what game they’re playing.

Rachel is all too happy to talk her through it as she deals everyone’s hand, putting an unequivocally silly amount of theatrics into her explanation, not that that stops everybody from hanging onto her every word. Even if most of them have undoubtedly heard the whole spiel before. Max then proceeds to watch her demolish everyone at another few rounds, midway through which someone brings them both a refill of something fruity and red.

“You made mine a double, right?” Rachel calls after them.

“They’re both doubles,” they answer with an enthusiastic thumbs up and a foolish grin, before disappearing back into the crowd outside.

“Sorry about that,” Rachel offers with a half bashful, half guilty expression. “Don't worry if you can't finish yours, I'll take it.” She pauses for a moment, laughs to herself. “Although it would be kinda fun to see you go wild for once.”

And Max, perhaps incentivized by all the physical affection or perhaps looking for a way to enjoy it without feeling like she's going to blow up, takes that as a challenge. “It's okay,” she assures, with far too much determination for her own good, a hamfisted plot to impress already forming in her mind. “I can handle it.”

First things first, she takes a massive gulp of whatever was just handed to her. Then, instead of whatever the hell she thought she was gonna do, she grimaces like she just swallowed a brick.

Rachel laughs, a brilliant, golden sound that serves as higher reward than Max could ever hope for. “Easy there, tiger,” she says, holding Max a little tighter, closer. “You’ve gotta pace yourself.”

“Sorry,” Max splutters in return. “I'm not used to this.”

“I can tell.” Rachel laughs again, this one slow and syrupy; eyes roaming Max’s face with reckless abandon. “Don’t worry, I think it's cute.”

“Jesus, get a room,” one of the boys at the table huffs. “I thought we were playing cards here.”

“I'm in one,” Rachel replies without missing a beat, delightfully glib and sounding far too proud of herself. “And I think you mean losing at cards here. Read ‘em and weep, fellas.”

She lays her cards out for everyone to see with decidedly cocky flair, all but basking in the latest bout of cursing her name to fly around the table. She offers Max a victory toast, giggling once more at the girl's sour expression and knocking back half of her own drink without even flinching. By the time Rachel actually comes out of a round empty handed, they've had so many victory toasts that Max can't remember just how long they've been here. Long enough that she's been able to arrange their hoard of treasure into several smaller piles. Long enough that the sensory onslaught she'd been so arduously fighting through feels a thousand miles away.

Drinking makes everything a little fuzzier, makes all the lights and sounds and staring a little more bearable. It also destroys her sense of time and makes her approximately a thousand percent more likely to say something stupid. But it's not all bad. She manages to crack a few jokes that have everyone laughing, and as the minutes march on and the drinks keep magically appearing beside her on the table, Max finds herself growing bolder.

“Looks like your hot streak is finally over,” someone says to Rachel as the round comes to end, slurring their words and leering over at her in premature triumph.

Max watches in equal parts concern and entertainment as Rachel swings her latest cup around a bit dangerously. “Hey, don't count me out just yet,” she huffs, sneaking a sip between sentences. “Max, quick, give me a kiss for good luck.”

And instead of questioning it, instead of stammering and getting all flustered, Max leans in to give her a kiss on the cheek. Which is bold by her standards. She's still a bit shy about kissing either of them, but especially Rachel. She's just so intimidatingly pretty, and nice, and way, way out of Max's league. Sometimes she still doesn't understand why Rachel was even willing to be in this little triangle relationship with her, let alone be the one to suggest it in the first place. But when a gift horse opens, you don't look it in the mouth. Or something like that.

And why not try and be a little brave for once? That's what all the liquid courage was for, after all.

But Rachel, as Max has often heard, is someone who isn't afraid to ask for more, more, more. Even as the alcohol robs her of some of her usual eloquence. “I meant tongue luck,” she says, complete with an admittedly adorable and endearingly earnest pout.

For a minute, the nervousness returns tenfold. A thousand worries and wonders swirl around her head and she can't help but think of all the eyes on them, all the pressure, all the ways she could mess this up. All the ways she could disappoint. If it's all just meant to be a joke and she's taking it way too seriously and getting herself worked up over nothing again.

But then she's looking at Rachel and Rachel's looking at her and Max is drunker than she's ever been and suddenly none of it matters anymore. Suddenly, she doesn’t need to be sure of anything other than the fact that she’s the lucky one for getting to be so close to Rachel. Before she can talk herself out of it, Max takes the girl’s face in both hands and kisses her. Really kisses her, just barely sliding under the bar of full stop making out as she startles back when someone at the table cheers for them.

“I-Is that more what you had in mind?” She mumbles upon pulling away, fixing Rachel with a bashful, doe-eyed stare. She knows people must be staring again, but it’s fine. She can just look at Rachel and pretend no one else exists instead, let go of all her nerves and replace them with those sunny hazel eyes and that silky, honey-blonde hair.

And that's so, so goddamn easy it isn't even funny.

Rachel blinks back at her, momentarily dazed, before breaking out into an expression best described as the cat who got the cream. “Yeah,” she says, half breathless, moving to ruffle Max’s hair. “Good puppy.”

Max just keeps looking at her, for a moment or two, and then she feels her face going red again as it catches up to her, so she rushes to hide in Rachel’s shoulder. “That’s mean,” she whines, piteous and small, doing absolutely nothing to help her case. “That’s so mean.”

“Duly noted,” Rachel answers with a devious little hum, and Max can picture the way she’s grinning ear to ear at the new source of teasing material.

She reaches out over Max to grab her latest hand, and Max knows solely by the way Rachel's fingers dance along her waist that it's another good one. She tries to keep her drunken grin hidden from the silent tension of the rest of the table. The quiet won't last long, of course. Even without looking Max can count down to the oncoming clamor; four, three, two…

The person who'd been taunting Rachel a few minutes ago drops their cards down and heaves a melodramatic sigh, and the guy next to them lets out a cry of, “You fucking jinxed it, dude,” while giving them a playful shove.

“This is madness. This is actual madness.”

“So fucking unfair. Yo, can I get some of that tongue luck over here?”

Max winds up with a fresh lungful of jasmine as Rachel wraps a protective arm around her, threading her fingers through her hair. “Nope,” she answers in Max's stead. “No way. Didn't you hear me earlier? Mine.”

Max is learning a lot of things about herself tonight. Like how it's kind of exciting when Rachel gets territorial over her, or that the more she hears it the less she questions being likened to a puppy. Or that she apparently isn't above letting Rachel hold the cup to her lips and coax her into another victory sip after finding her own cup empty.

Oh, and according to one of the many strangers at the table she's, ‘so light of a lightweight she should win an award.’ Rachel agrees wholeheartedly and gives Max another pat on the head, which Max was too busy enjoying to really pay attention to what they were saying.

All in all a very educational evening.

“I think that’s it for you tonight,” Rachel says, finishing off the rest of her cup in one swig. Max almost shudders just watching her. “Chloe will probably have my head if I get you any more wasted.”

“She’s already gonna have your head.”

Max turns to face the source of the interruption, smiling like she's just laid eyes on the sun after a long dreary winter, but Rachel scoffs and remains oblivious.

“Says who?” she huffs, defensive and gloating. Everyone stares at the space behind her.

“Says me,” answers Chloe, arms crossed, leaning ominously over Rachel and donning an I'm so gonna kill you sort of grin. Rachel tilts her head back to look up at her. Her tone comes out sickly sweet and simmering with a hint of trouble just beneath. “And what have you two been up to while I was running around half the night wondering where the fuck you were?”

“Winning,” Max says, without a hint of irony. In fact she can’t help but to beam with pride as she proclaims, “I’m her good luck puppy.”

Chloe blinks down at her once, twice, and then moves to pull Max up into a hug. Max hums contentedly to herself. She really is the lucky one, having not just one but two girlfriends tossing her around like a hot potato. Oh yeah, this is the life.

“There, there,” Chloe assures, probably meant in jest but Max soaks it up as if it were genuine, leaning up into Chloe's touch as the girl pets her hair. “What's reckless ol’ Rachel got done to you, huh?”

Rachel gasps in melodramatic mock offense. “What have I done? You wound me, good sir.”

“You got Max drunk.”

“Well, you lost her.”

“Not on purpose,” Chloe snaps back. “Pretty big distinction there, Rach.”

“Tomato, to-mah-to.”

Max interrupts them with the utmost confidence, even as she finds her tongue heavy and uncooperative. “Ladies, ladies, please.” Both the words themselves and the hiccup that follows them are muffled in the fabric of Chloe’s jacket, but Max doesn't move. “There’s enough a’ me to go around.”

“Oh she's smashed. Jesus, Rach, you really are a bad influence.” Chloe's probably trying to tell her off, but the effect is greatly lessened by the fact that she's audibly covering up a laugh. “Max, Maxster, Maximilian, how are you doing? How much have you–”

“Rachel already used that one tonight,” Max notes, somehow coming in too late and too early at the same time.

“... had. That answers that question.” Chloe pulls back all of a sudden and Max scrambles not to tip over. “Wait, which one? First or second?”

“Second.”

“Ugh, what? C'mon, Rach, you know I've been saving that one.”

Rachel offers her best attempt at that snake-charmer’s smile, and Max finds herself thinking that she'd never be able win an argument against her. “Yeah, sorry, it just kinda slipped out. It is pretty good.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere now, Princess.” Chloe huffs back. “C'mon, up, both of you. I'm cuttin’ ya off.”

One of the guys lets out a cheer. “And my wallet is once again saved by the power of Rachel having a spousal dispute! Thanks, Price. You're a lifesaver.”

Rachel starts saying something about finally getting lucky only to have the competitive smirk wiped off her face by Chloe elbowing her in the side. Max dutifully gathers up the various little piles of Rachel's winnings and the two of them share a look as she hands them over. Though it must have been longer than just a glance, because the next thing Max knows Chloe is between them and has them both by the shirt collars like a pair of unruly kittens getting picked up by the scruff of the neck.

“Well, I’d better get Romeo and Juliet over here back home before they start fucking on the table–”

“Chloe,” Max sputters, having just enough remaining wherewithal to get flustered over such a remark.

Rachel does another one of those laughably dramatic gasps. “What kind of brute do you take me for?” She adds, far too nonchalantly, “I'd bring her to a room first. I'm not an animal.”

“Rachel,” Max squeaks, balking over at the girl with her face undoubtedly turning cherry red. Rachel offers only a drunkard’s smirk and a wink in return.

“ – And as you can see, I've got my hands full.” Chloe continues, barreling over them.

She lets them go and gives them both a pat on the back, trying to get them to start heading out but only succeeding in sending them stumbling into each other.

“Thanks for keepin’ an eye on ‘em for me,” she sighs. It's quickly replaced with a devilish smirk of her own as she reaches to give the guy a few rough pats on the shoulder. “Oh, and thanks for never learning your lesson when it comes to betting joints against Rachel. I'll be smoking good tonight, thanks to you.”

“Ugh, don't remind me.” He nods towards Rachel and Max, both of whom are not so subtly eyeing the setup for the next round. “Now get those two outta here before they find a way to win from halfway across the room.”

Chloe turns back to them. “Alright guys, you heard him. Time to scram.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n,” Max says as they head for the door, giving Chloe a haphazard salute.

“Ooh, are we pirates?” Rachel asks, before nodding sagely in approval. “Hell yeah. Yeehaw.”

Chloe fights to form a sentence around the burst of laughter that follows. “That's cowboys, you dumbass. How much have you had?”

“A lot,” Max supplies, trying not to trip over herself as they step into the cool night air outside. “Like, twenty cups.”

“It wasn't twenty,” Rachel huffs. “More like a sensible seven. And jeez, way to tattle on me, Caulfield.”

Max blinks over at her. “Oh, sorry. Can I try again?” Without waiting for an answer, she turns to Chloe. “Rachel had a nice sensible seven drinks and there's nothing to worry about.” Then, she turns back over to Rachel with a thumbs up and a lopsided, optimistic grin; whispering as if Chloe isn't right next to them and listening to every word. “Was that better?”

“Perfect,” Rachel just barely manages to answer through a bout of giggling. “Thanks, Maxie.”

The sharp flick of a lighter draws both of their attention, and they find Chloe in the process of lighting up one of the joints she'd claimed as ‘drunk-sitter tax.’ They both watch a little too intently as she takes that first drag and lets it plume out into the dark. “Don't mind me,” she coughs. “I'm just tryna get on your guys’ level. You've got like one brain cell between you right now, I gotta get in on this shit if I'm gonna be the one dealing with it.”

“Do you want some tongue luck?” Max asks, too earnest for her own good. “For dealing with us?”

Chloe stops walking. “Do I want what?”

Max turns on her heel and closes their distance, reaching up to take gentle grip of Chloe's jacket. “Here,” she says, getting up on her tiptoes. “Let me show you.”

Chloe makes this cute little noise of surprise, muffled by Max's mouth over hers, and it only serves to spur the girl on. It doesn't take long for Chloe to melt into it however, unconsciously leaning towards Max as she pulls back, keen on continuing.

“Damn,” Chloe whispers, eyeing Max with a look of eagerness and wonder. “Drunk-Max has game.”

“I know, right?” Rachel agrees on the end of a smokey exhale, having nabbed the joint from Chloe's hand while she wasn't paying attention.

Max puffs up like an overexcited budgie trying to show off for its mate. “I can't help being so swaggy.”

For a minute, all is quiet.

“Aaaaand we're back to normal,” Chloe notes with a humorous sigh, while next to her Rachel breaks into a fit of contagious cackling.

Max merely smiles to herself, watching their faces light up as they chase each other in circles over the joint, listening as they calm halfway down only for one of them to start up again and drag the other into a fresh round of barely contained laughter. She may be playing more on the wild side than usual tonight, but she still finds herself sure — super extra mega double absolutely positively one hundred percent sure – of one thing.

No amount of alcohol could compare to the rush and butterflies of making her girlfriends happy.

#amberpricefield #amberfield #i'll be honest this is the sorta fic that normally wouldn't see the light of day outside my gdocs but. you asked so you shall Receive shgfs #tho i'd be lying if i said i wasn't debating putting this up on ao3 #i just. i just think that max deserves to be a happy/silly drunk. let her have some Fun #also apf being adorable gay dumbasses my beloved <3 #nova writes #nova answers

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starsignchaser · 6 months

Text

hello everyone and welcome to the March 2024 edition of emily's fic recs! If you saw my post this weekend you know that I bookmarked 57 fics this month... yeah idk how that happened but just know that this is gonna be a bit of a long one.

this month's list contains Jegulus, Wolfstar, and Drarry for a total of 28 fics. there are some all-time faves in this list (march was a good month) so I hope you enjoy!

without further ado, lets dive in :)

Jegulus

blue and yellow skies by alarainai, salmon_says (142k, 27/27, rated M)

Quidditch Rivals turned Quidditch Lovers. That's what the world sees them as, at least.

Too bad Regulus hates James Potter's guts, and James? Well, it doesn't matter what he feels about their definitely fake, definitely emotionless relationship.

just cute quidditch boys who love each other

i fell hard (in your arms tonight) by grimjobs (17.9k, 9/9, rated G)

Regulus didn't know he was touch starved until James started touching him.

cute boys and silly misunderstandings

i've got my eye on you by artiest (10k, rated M)

James and Regulus are friends with benefits except they're both ridiculously in love with each other.

this one was so good I had to give it an instant reread as I was putting my list together. angsty happy in-love boys

Many Happy Halloweens by SnarkyMagpie (7.6k, rated M)

Monsters come out on Halloween, but Regulus Black will gladly fight any horror, whether it's a dragon or anxiety, to protect his family.

Jeggy dads!!!!!! Technically single dad James with Harry and then Reggie joining their family <3333

stuck by you (and the glue) by cleargreen (4.7k, rated G)

The two most important people in James's life finally meet. This is how it goes.

baby harry has a crush on his dad's boyf reg

Whoops. by my_castlescrumbling (2k, rated T)

Regulus is a TA for Professor Monty Potter and Monty keeps trying to set Regulus up with his son. Regulus always refuses, of course. But what happens when, at the end of the term, he goes to the Potter Christmas Party?

yayyy happenstance!!!

a little death by noasmirrorball (1.6k, rated E)

James wakes Regulus up with a little surprise.

this is just straight up porn

heatwaves by regscupid (1.5k, rated E)

With the exit of May, James quickly came to realize he could not deal with what June brought with it. June meant hotter weather. Their flat didn’t have air conditioning.

reg in crop tops makes james' brain go mush

Wolfstar

wading in waist-high water by colgatebluemintygel (82k, 9/9, rated E)

Remus is a PhD student and hobbyist baker who finds himself adrift following his father’s death. On a whim, he enters the Great British Bake Off...

ONE OF MY FAVES OF THE MONTH!!! a wonderful balance of funny moments, bits of angst, and mostly just a lot of love between these two boys

Like Real People Do by third_crow (36k, 3/3, rated T)

Or, Remus works as a barista and Sirius comes in every morning with the world's cutest baby, and man, these two just wrote the book on mutual pining, huh?

I LOVED THIS FIC!!! there is so much angst but it is so worth it because these two are meant to find each other every time

To Be Alone With You by Shay_Fae (16.6k, 4/4, rated M)

In the summer of their sixth year, Remus Lupin tried to kill himself.

MAJOR TW for this one (as you can see from the description) but also such a beautiful take on Sirius's love for Remus and their dynamic

my castle crumbled overnight by YellowLark23 (9k, 2/2, rated T)

Sirius deals with his parents’ abuse while at school, but he never realizes just how dangerous the game they're playing is.

This fic is more black brothers focused but there is sweet background wolfstar hurt/comfort :)

i've got diamonds in my eyes (for you) by crushofdoves (6k, 2/2, rated E)

Sirius and Remus are in big, soft, filthy love.

this is so hot and also just feels so real for a sex scene like they literally stop to have a grilled cheese in the middle it's perfect

Remus' Impromptu Study Break by ravenclaw_with_no_friends (5.6k, rated E)

“Sod off Pads, I’m mad at you,” Remus decided his best way out would just be to go have a shower. He got out of the bed, picking up his pyjama bottoms to hold in front of his crotch.

wolfstar smut with sirius making the first move hehe

i was sinking and now i'm sunk by crushofdoves (3.9k, rated E)

The air between them felt electric, crackling with intention and Sirius hoped they were on the same page.

bookstore employee remus having his way with sirius in the back room

Ways to be Gentle by Quietlemonhush (3.6k, rated E)

Sirius has a bad day. Remus reminds him what softness feels like.

sad sirius being given all the love by his moony

Drarry

A Dented Old Street Sign by orphanghost (27k, rated M)

Draco knows they aren't the only students who will be completing their NEWTs this year, but they are the only ones whose home fireplaces were disconnected from the floo network by the ministry.

At least, Draco assumes as much until he sees the light falling out from the front door of one of the other rickety old houses in front of them and the three figures cast in its warm glow.

the golden trio and returning slytherins are neighbors in Hogsmede for 8th year. tension, hijinks, and love ensues

With Great Yawns and Stretchings by sugar_screw (22k, rated T)

The coffee is very good. Really. And the cats are so cute. That's why Harry goes so often.

ONE OF MY FAVES OF THE MONTH!! just sweet boys who love cats and grow together and kiss!!!

Cascade by Avonne (18.7k, rated M)

Harry wants to touch, and Draco wants to be touched. If only they could figure it out.

I want to take every 8th year fic in hold them close in my arms because these boys are so sad and fucked up but they keep finding each other and making it work. one of my faves!

Sourdough by academicdisaster (17k, rated M)

Draco writes romance novels and doesn't leave his apartment much. Harry bakes bread and sells it to Draco. Draco is quite weird. Harry might like that.

read tags before reading!!! contains some off screen heavy angst but sooo good. Again, you will always catch me at the scene of a weird little draco fic

Magical Menagerie by DorthyAnn (16k, 7/7, rated T)

Convinced by Hermione to get a new pet, Harry goes to Magical Menagerie and finds it's now owned by Draco Malfoy who has changed since the war… in a good way, a really good way.

sweet weirdo draco you will always have my heart

Said and Unsaid (or, The Value of Knowing When to Stop Talking) by bryoneybrynn (14.8k, 3/3, rated T)

When the Interrogator asked if he had anything to say on his own behalf, Draco shook his head, his lips pressed tight in a thin line. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t sound like an excuse.

again, love me an 8th year fix-it fic

Slow Show by Avonne (14.7k, rated M)

Harry doesn't know the kind of love that isn't forged in pain. He doesn't understand slow and calm and easy. He can't trust unconditional. After all, how could Draco love him if he's not allowed to sacrifice himself for it? Draco shows him.

I just can't get enough of harry being a self-sacrificing idiot and Draco being the one who can consistently cut through his bs and be like "hey!!! stop that dummy, we all love you (but me especially)"

I'll keep you (safe and sound) by arminaa (13k, 4/4, rated E)

Harry takes temporary custody of Teddy while Andromeda's comatose at St Mungo's after an accident, and Draco, his something-with-benefits, shows up unexpectedly to help.

two awkward boys who don't know how to tell each other they like each other (with baby Teddy!)

Title of Their Sex Tape by Cibee (12k, rated T)

Undercover! Heists! Draco pining for Harry! Harry being oblivious, but also can't help noticing how good Draco smells! Banters and jokes! That's about it.

Brooklyn 99-esque fic with v sweet will they/won't they moments. also the line "“I confess,” Draco said quietly. “That I had hope ... you would choose me this time.”" !!!!!!!

By Any Other Name by dracognition (8k, rated E)

A botched love potion makes it so that everyone in Harry's vicinity is madly in love with him—everyone except Draco, that is.

everyone is in love with Harry, INCLUDING Draco!!! hehehe

Swipe Right by mee4ever (2k, rated G)

Or then one where Harry swipes right, and it turns out Draco does too.

I love their banter/flirting in this one so much!!!

Harry Potter Gets a Job [ART] by dustmouth (106 pages, rated M)

Harry returns home from Romania to find Arthur Weasley has a new apprentice, and there's an extra place set for dinner.

I love this art style and the story is just so perfect, def suggest checking out more by dustmouth if you enjoy this

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chefrat · 3 years

Text

bitter taste

pairings: Atsumu Miya X Reader

type: angst?? idk im high and I wrote this in 20 mins

word-count: 1k

warnings: cheating, some smex but not really (go away minors), bad writing

A/N: this is soooo bad but im kind of pumped with some e ;) and a lot of energy and really felt like writing again so this is really rushed I literally typed this in less than 20 mins sooooo please im sorry but I might get back on writing

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The end of a relationship usually has events that build up to the final scene. Sometimes though, the end of a relationship can take you by surprise. You could tell the end was near, whenever he would come up with any excuse to stay out late at night only to come back in early mornings. Stumbling through the front door of the shared home that nowadays felt more lonely than ever before. The smell of cheap liquor lingering on his breath, his shirt giving off various scents but the one that stood out more was the one of a women’s perfume. Laying on your side of the bed pretending to be asleep you heard him groan as he sat on the bed. “Snap out of it, ‘Tsumu.” You held in your breath, not wanting to breathe in any more of the other woman’s perfume. Afraid that you might immediately start crying if you put any more thought into it so you tried your best to distract yourself, soon falling asleep with a tightening feeling in your chest.

You woke up to your alarm blaring at six am, somehow he was able to sleep through it today. Without a second thought, you peeked over to check if he was really there and he was. He didn’t bother on changing shirts, still wearing the evidence of last nights infidelity without a care in the world. Tears you were holding back instead burned your eyes, angrily rubbing them away and instead focusing on getting ready for a long day at work. There was no going back to how things were, you knew that but what bothered you the most was that you weren’t sure when things went wrong. Was your relationship doomed from the start or could there have been any saving? You didn’t know.

By the time you got back home he had already gotten ready to go out with his friends for the night like he always did. For some reason he felt like he had to wait for you to get home to tell yo face to face that he was going out. In his mind, he knew you wouldn’t be able to catch onto the things he would do outside this home. He knew that you would always be waiting for him on the bed the both of you picked out together. You were his safe option, the woman that wouldn’t ask him where he was all night, the one who wouldn’t question him and his behavior, or so he thought. Unfortunately for him, you were able to figure things out on your own without having to speak a word.

“You look nice, going out again?” He smiled effortlessly, manipulating you into loving his smile but thinking to himself, ‘It’s so easy to fool you.’. “I’ll be back early tonight, I promise.” He would say every night but never go through with his promises. “Wait…” You pulled on his tie, pulling him closer to you. Close enough to feel his lips brush against yours, he took it as if you wanted a goodbye kiss which in a way it was. Soon, that goodbye kiss grew hungry with desperation. Mostly from you because you knew this would be the last thing you would do with him. Wrapping your arms around his head, trying to pull him even more into you as if somehow that could pull him emotionally closer. Your legs shaking with anxiety but Atsumu picked you up and making your wrap your legs around him, thinking that the kiss took your breath away and wanting to take it even further.

That night he didn’t go out, he had spent the whole night showing you what he had practiced on her. Kissing you and touching you on the exact same places he did on her. His head between your legs that had been in between hers, the same dirty tongue being used on you. It all made you feel dirty, it made you feel as if you were the other woman he was doing the cheating with. You spent awhile in the shower, scrubbing on all the places you felt his touch linger and when you had come out of the bathroom, Atsumu was already fast asleep. To him, he had poured his heart out to you tonight. The guilt finally catching up to him while you were in the shower and it was killing him. He thought to himself, ‘What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, I’ll change things for the better.’ Atsumu had a full plan to start loving you like he used to when your relationship with him was still new, a plan to leave all the cheating behind all because you approached him with sex.

Morning came but your side of the bed was empty, he still smiled, imagining you in the kitchen preparing breakfast for the both of you. He glanced over to where the clock usually sat but noticed how bare the nightstand was. Atsumu rolled over, grabbing his phone from his nightstand to check the time and seeing the missed calls from his mistress. The sound of the door opening immediately made him delete the notification and look up with a straight face, hiding his nerves. “Good morning.” He smiled, hoping to fool you once more. “Morning.” You smiled back even though it pained you to even look at him, it was your last goodbye even though he had no idea. Most of your things were packed and ready to go, all the bags were set by the front door and it was likely for him to stay in bed instead of saying goodbye at the door. This was your final scene, the last event to your relationship with him even though your relationship with him had been dead for a while now. Something Atsumu still had hope for was just something he imagined to himself and it would take him by surprise once he figured it out.

“I’ll be back early tonight, I promise.” You said to him.

(not edited, im sorry for the bad story I just felt like posting)

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discotenny · 4 years

Text

Just A Phone Call

This may have just come out of my awful sleep schedule. Sort of inspired by these headcanons

There may be an assumed female reader due to the mention of belladonna but that’s really the only gendered term here [i think idk]

Takes place in quarantine lolol I wrote this on a whim there was no planning it’s 3 am rn. Unedited I’ll edit this when I wake up.

Dazai stared at his phone screen, debating whether to actually click the button or not. His thumb hovers over the call option, your call option. Would you even answer if he called? Deciding against it, he rolled over in his blankets, wiping any stray tears away that came from prior thoughts.

A few miles from Dazai’s flat, you laid solemnly in your bed, unable to sleep due to the awful sleep schedule you maintained. You turned toward your bedside clock, groaning when you were met with the confirmation that you did in fact stay up to witness another atrocious hour.

To put it in simple terms, you were lonely. Bored out of your mind with no other incentive to sleep other than please just do it, you craved to talk to anyone at this hour. Who better than your boyfriend? You were almost certain that he would be up as well.

With that tiny hope for human interaction present, you squinted at your phone screen, sloppily typing your password and making your way to your contacts. Under the name ‘Safety Hazard’ and decorated with your favorite picture of him, you pressed the call button and watched as the screen darkened to signify the attempted connection.

Brrrrrinnng

Dazai shot out of whatever daze he was in when the ringing beside him began. He sat up in his bed, searching frantically for the source of the noise.

Brrrrrinnng

You felt your eyes falter. Funny how you only seemed to be tired once you actually desired to do something? Attempting to blink away the exhaustion, you increased the phone’s volume as if the irritating noise would some how keep you awake.

Brrrrrinnng

Where the fuck was his phone? The ringing seemed so close yet so far at the same time. In the multiple times his sheets were ruffled, not even a glimpse of light showed itself.

Moving towards the side of his bed where the frame met the mattress, Dazai began to pat down the area in hopes of finding the device.

Brrrrrinnng

You sighed to yourself. Maybe tonight Dazai actually managed to muster up some sleep, and of course you should be happy for that.

But you were really, really lonely. Disappointment crept up your throat, and your mouth twisted into a frown.

As Dazai got to the final corner of his bed frame, his fingers made contact with the familiar sensation of his phone case.

Brrrr—

Grasping it desperately, he swiped answer to your call. He pressed his phone up maybe a little too roughly to his ear, and asked in a breathy voice if you were alright.

Laying your phone down beside you and placing it on speaker, you simply replied that you missed him.

Dazai’s trembling lips relaxed into a soft smile, the pounding within his chest calming every second he stayed on the line. “I-I missed you too belladonna,” he admitted, refusing to let the tight grip on his phone go.

“I really miss you Dazai,” hearing you say his name made his stomach flutter. “I miss your dumb jokes. I miss the way you held my hand. I miss you being at my apartment complex in the morning to walk me to the agency. I—”

You took a deep breath.

“You should be taking care of yourself Dazai. I worry all the time for you.” Deciding now was not the time to bring up potentially serious topics, you walked down the easy route. “Have you been eating well?”

It takes him a while to respond, and you’re a little worried he fell asleep in the middle of your spiel. Little did you know it was far from that, as the gears within Dazai’s brain struggled to turn out any response that wouldn’t alert you to his current state of wellbeing. A quick glance around his messed up apartment and unkempt appearance would have answered your question and any others you might have asked.

“I work with what I have,” the tremble came back, causing him to take a deep breath before continuing. “How’ve you been darling? It’s not like you to call at this hour.... not that I mind of course!”

It was your turn to breath in, “I’m sorry if I bothered you Dazai—” There came the flutters again. “I just wanted to be sure you were holding up okay.”

“As long as you’re with me I’ll always be okay. J-just stay on the line please,” Dazai didn’t even think before spilling those words out. The plead for you to stay on the line was met with silence from both ends. He melted into his sheets, letting his phone fall flat directly next to his ear.

Dazai stared up blankly at the his ceiling, his mind creating patterns out of shadows the longer he stared. His breathing slowly steadied, and he had attempted to focus all of his mind onto whatever sounds you produced. His words prior... he really did want to live up to that statement.

And if he was being honest, that scared the shit out of him.

Dazai didn’t want to disappoint you with the mess that was his life, but he never wanted to let you go. Neither of you broke the silence, taking solace in one another’s breathing.

That was until you began to mumble something about hearing your neighbor’s begin to wake up. Dazai chuckled at that, finally taking notice of the ungodly hour you two had found yourselves at.

“Hey y/n..?” Dazai droned off, unsure if he could say his next words. With a soft, hm?, as your response, he scraped enough courage to continue. “.... I love you .. and thank you so much for calling.”

You broke out into a smile, joy blossoming in your chest as you heard him admit his love.

“I love you too Dazai. And if you want me to call you more often, I’ll try to make it a habit whenever I stay up late. Be warned though, I stay up late a lot,” you giggled a little near the end, and you heard him do the same.

“If you could... I’d like that a lot.”

Hnnnh I’m gonna wake up in the morning and reread this and then fucking cringe I know it.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungou stray dogs headcanons #bungou stray dogs imagines #bungo stray dogs imagines #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs scenario #bungou stray dogs scenario #bsd scenario #bsd headcanons #bsd headcanon #bsd x reader #bsd imagine #dazai x reader #bsd dazai x reader

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themanicgalaxy · 3 years

Text

SPN 4X19 Jump the Shark

Oh hey is this the illegitimate brother plotline

boy I love me some sweet sweet ANGST

whelp she's fucking dead

picture of JOHN?

Sam's peacefully brushing his teeth and Dean's Not a Morning Person

boy he's having a bad morning

to be fair, living out of the car is kinda not fun either

"I'm his son" Dean: I'm gonna fUCKING KIL-

he's..premed?

they're going to ruin his life too aren't they, Aren't The-

Dean is taking this really well

I mean he did get the brunt of John's Issues, so I get it, yike

ASDFPIHP them discussing their dad's ~sex life~ is very funny though

Dean was...preteen? when this kid was born? Sam was under ten definitely

Dean Please

No that's your Actual Brother guys PLEASE

hunting accident "ah fair enough"

"who is a nuclear family these days" FEELS SO LOADED

Dean...Dean please don't fUCKING KILL HIM DEAN

THE IMPALA NOOO

"he took you to a baseball game" IDSFHAPF

He's Trying not to CRY OH MY GOD NO WAIT

Sam resonates with the away from college thing oh NO

Dean is trying SO HARD not to snap

at least he's...trying..to keep adam out

corpse snatching => HEY LOOK IT's THE BONE STEALING WIT-

I think I need to stop being online jesus christ

the [both sigh] was so good

well...that's a lot of blood

How the hell do you break it to your illegitimate brother that you're ~technically Wanted by the FBI

at least he's not an idiot

HE'S SO MUCH YOUNGER THAN THEY ARE

I mean obligatory dead mom

"do i get a say in this?" "NO!"

no..no SAM DEAN HAS A POINT

Middle sibling + younger sibling gang up on elder

"have u thought about eternity" "bro i've literally been to hell Idk what to tell u"

Dean doing it solo but Sad is...:(

Oh he worked the old case, that's neat

"so it's over for you" welllllll

OO THE TRUCK SHOT WAS COOL

dean + long dark coat truthing tonight HE LOOKS G O O D

it wants revenge

YOU FUCKERS AND YOUR REVENGE BELA WAS R I G H T

and Adam Instantly wants revenge, you sir are definitely a Winchester

"it's life" WELL IT SHOULDn'T BE

the stupid isolationism I hate it

NO GO CONNECT WITH PEOPLE KRIPKE WHY

Sam's becoming his dad, and Dean isn't

...SAM WHAT THE FUCK

DAD MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT DO RIGHT BY YOU

HIS GODDAMN GRIEF SPIRAL GOT BOTH OF YOU

LET HIM BE NORMAL! HAPPY! IT IS TOO LATE FOR YOU RIGHT NOW(NOT ALWAYS)(Also very close to the thing with zachariah in placement(eye emojis) BUT LEAVE HIM ALONE!

I do appreciate Dean Eldest Sibling'ed it up even if he didn't like the kid/was jealous. Goddammit I wish we got connection in this stupid show

I was expecting a jump scare but somehow the squish is worse

sOn oF aBitcH

Ah FUCK NOT ADAM TOO

I do like the little angel Icon though, that's what's Dean's way out

Ghouls is a racist term?what????

no john winchester was 100% a monster

ah it was their father

yada yada father killing circle idk

YAY! DEAN'S INGENUITY IS BACK!

Ghoul!mom is really really good. I liked Scared Adam better though

the slicing sam scene is BRUTAL jesus christ

So...John got his own son killed in the end...

SERIOUSLY HE WAS TERRIBLE

Dean JESUS CHRIST

awww caring Dean is nice

AWW HUNTER'S FUNERAL

"Adam's in a better place" :(

Dean tried to fit himself into the Dad box, Sam's actually him

"you take it any way you want" oh for FUC- HE- I-

he looked so Sad, so like...he's stopped idolizing him

jesus christ.

boy there's gonna be overlap ok here we go.

1. poor dean. Ok couple things: 1) he elder sibling'ed it SO HARd! he didn't even like Adam, but he still tried to keep him safe(I think). he gave him a hunter's funeral! I just. It was nice to see. It was also INCREDIBLY painful to hear the realization of "you were always like dad, I never could be" and the fact that he didn't even see it as a good thing anymore? fUCK man, that huRT me. Dean tried so hard to be something he wasn't, he got probably the brunt of the abuse(because he didn't measure up to that metric like Sam always would), and in the end all it got him was...just. so much pain. Like it felt like John left his Broken children behind to get a new one, and just turned them into his quest for revenge. It was SO So fucked

Hey actually speaking of

2. AM I SUPPOSED TO LIKE BEING A HUNTER/JOHN? WHAT HTE FUCK?

YALL ALREADY MARTYRED HIM BUT UR MAKING HIM WORSE?

LIKE ok listen. John's kinda set up as the ideal of hunting. They martyred him! And I was halfway sold provided they didn't mention him again. Then! he did this thing where he abandoned his kids, seeing them only as tools to fulfill his quest for revenge, literally broke them(that too late thing+zachariah saying "it's in your blood" when really it was just trained from a young age), got a NEW family he treated a lot better. I just. I have...NO idea how I'm supposed to see him as a good guy here. Maybe I just kin Dean, or his plight is WAY more sympathetic(it is, Sam is kinda pissing me off), but John's just...coming off worse and worse and they KEEP doing it!

Also! this whole cycle of revenge thing! about how if you keep taking an eye for an eye, everyone ends up blind! they barely escaped this time, and I think this was the second revenge plot that I can think of with MONSTERS alone! it was a BIG theme! Like!! hunting sucks! revenge makes you end up in worse places! it's like this one episode was made to show how SHIT hunting was!

wait who wrote this

Dabb+lofflin. The hunting sucks always comes from-

this GODDAMN INCONSISTE-

3. Fuck John Winchester

4. Individualism. Ok this is a big one. Alongside the whole revenge plot thing(which is BIG, and a hunting sucks), this one drove home the sheer individuality of hunting. But while some of the writers see that as Badass, this one made it seem lonely, and painful. Like the flip side to American Individualism is American Chronic Loneliness. I know this one was used to process the ennui of the post recession/post 9/11 time, and it's doing very well for that, but it kinda ends up like this show is EVERYONE'S therapy all at once! the gang's all here! and we're gonna traumatize you in the process as well.

EDIT: and yeah yeah yada yada american individualism is King and then so is it’s accompanying loneliness in the post 9/11 post war in iraq post recession world(we were not having fun in 08/09)

and I get that this show is the writer’s therapy and whatever

(I just thing this is phrased better)

5. bring him back. Connect! Look. I know it breaks the core ethos of this episode. But having Weird Esoteric Hunter siblings would have been SO FUNNY!

give me more sibling content! Sam+Adam teaming up against the Eldest Sibling Dean WAS SO FUNNY! I WANT MORE OF THAT

6. SAM WHAT THE FU-. Look. I hate John. I very much hate John. They set up the Sam/Dean dichotomy in regards to John first episode, and Sam acting more like an ass+like his dad is. Not making me like him. Also I feel like this was written to sympathize with Dean. Which makes the finale even more ironic, I feel.

7. Listen. Listen. One of you has to keep track of continuity. Like I know this becomes a WAY bigger problem later in the series, but if a certain writer wants to process/examine a certain part of the Life/Story(and they should, they set up a lot of interesting stuff), they have to keep track! Because then the show becomes everything all at once.

Like this show has ALREADY started feeling like fanfic of itself, where it just kinda does whatever it wants with its own concepts. And the concepts are GREAT! but you can TELL how inconsistent it is, even in the kripke era

like it ends up being Study of X, Riff on X! and I think that's where the inconsistency comes from. It's also why it's so fucking Excellent in places.

whelp this was a lot holy hell.

OH AND ONE MORE THING!

Bela didn't fit the narrative. That's why they didn't like her. I said at the beginning that an Int'l art thief does NOT fit the vibe of "grungy Angsty American Midwestern gothic" and I was right. With the lucifer story and the vibe she didn't fit, and so they just killed her as foreshadowing, and only used her like that. God I wish they'd riffed on her, especially because her callouts were all completely correct

we're Bela Salting again

listen she was preppy Jack Sparrow with some spiritualism, how dare you tell me not to like her.

#pawswatchesspn #4x19 jump the shark #this one was a lot of...#I mean I can't say fun #but it was interesting #...I accidentally fucking quoted Gandhi #this show truly is everyone's therapy and I mean that in the worst possible way #this is unrelated to the gandhi thing these are two separate thoughts #And Bedlund wrote on the head of a pin #which was cool #but HE WROTE MONSTER MOVIE! MY PROBABLY FAVORITE EPISODE!#and the fun wishing well one #ok listen if spn was the reason meta shit got popular #or it helped #most of that was cuz of bedlund #....bow down to bedlund for singehandedly popularizing my aesthetic holy hell

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rossa-motte · 4 years

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cielo rojo/red sky, short story update.

Hey, everyone! So today I want to talk about Cielo Rojo/Red Sky, the first complete short story I wrote not only this year, but in a long time. If you read my introduction to the community, I commented on how (thanks to perfectionism) I stopped writing for four or five years.

Reading about a “writer block” that takes more than a few weeks may seem scary af to a lot of people, but I'm kind of glad. I feel more confident now. Also #OvercomingMentalIllness, even if I wasn't a perfectionist, my focus was on other stuff.

State: complete... for now. Probably in a few months I'll read it again and clean it a bit more

Wordcount: 4888 (love the number idk why)

Genre/category: adult, dark fantasy, paranormal (vampires)

Premise/concept: A young woman accepts to be bitten by a vampire in an illegal vampire-party but she really isn't sure if that's what she wants, especially because she has the rarest blood type in the world.

Characters:

Urbana

the MC

a woman in her mid twenties with cool hair, who works as a stylist

a anxious and obedient golden retriever (literally in my notes about her)

Reyes

the vampire

we can't know much about him

but he seems pretty human... and boring

Begonia

our MC's best friend

the crazy one who convinces her to go to the party

I wanted her to have more screen time but I couldn't :(

Playlist:

Show it 2 me (by Night Club)

Gossip (by Night Club)

Dear enemy (by Night Club)

Miss negativity (by Night Club)

Your addiction (by Night Club)

Scheizophrenic (by Night Club)

Die in the disco (by Night Club)

Give yourself up (by Night Club)

Bad girl (by Night Club)

Scary world (by Night Club)

Sad boy (by Night Club)

Need you tonight (by Night Club)

Strobe light (by Night Club)

Tonight is the night i die (by Payale Royale)

Song for planning: (I have a specific song I put on repeat when I plan characters, and other stuff. Usually the vibes don't match that much, but credit where's needed) Little somenthing (by Melody Gardot and Sting)

Years ago I got this idea of a world with vampires and... let me clear up: I always wanted to write about vampires (and all that kind of creatures) but for obvious reasons I thought it wasn't a good idea. I think the Twilight and Twilight copycats era has passed and vampires can be cool again. Thanks.

So years ago I got this idea of a world with vampires, not like a secret world. In this universe, vampires are part of normal life like a bunch of goth kids... okay, no. My take was more political. I thought a lot about it: I wanted them to have power and privilege in society thanks to their... condition but I also wanted them to be seen as an other by no-vampires. To be marginalized in other aspects. I also wondered how law would work with them.

I wanted to write a short story collection in this world, and maybe some day I'll do it (not right now). One of the core ideas was seeing giving blood as similar to sex work (but not the same because it wasn't just the same). And later on I got the idea of Tinder (or a similar app) asking information such as blood type.And later of course I asked myself: which blood would taste better? (as yu do) And who has that blood?

But, besides writing only at night, I'm not a vampire so I don't know, so it changed to what type of blood would attract vampires? Probably a rare one.

Presenting to you: Rh null, the rarest blood type in the world. Only 40-50 have it.

Oh yeah, everything was perfect... except writing after five years of not doing so.

I ignored it for weeks. Specially because I was trying to rewrite an old short story with an interesting concept (the one I'm writing right now). It didn't take much to accept I wasn't ready for this other story. I didn't even told people I was leaving this story again and would want to write other, because I felt ashamed for not sticking to it.

At the moment, I've decided Cielo Rojo would take place in a party full of vampires, so imagine my surprise when YouTube, out of the blue, recommend me a 1 hour mix of “vampire electro/house”.

what the fuck

I didn't told anybody, I don't listen to that kind of music, I don't watch those videos, and I didn't search for ANYTHING related... only the bloodtype, but that doesn't equate with vampires and electro.

Anyways, for me: a sign. Write that shit. The universe screaming at me to stop fooling around and just do the damn thing. So I did.

My first draft took me a few days. Maybe two or three, I can't remember. And I hated it. I was proud and knew it was going to be difficult and I would be able to improve it. But I was still feeling really insecure.

Writing fantasy short fiction is hard: there's a lot you have to explain for the concept to make sense, but I didn't want to bore people or make the story too long.While drafting, and after ending it, I made a list of things that I needed to change or put. In my second draft I mostly restructured some things.

Not much really. Structure wise was better than I thought, specially for pantsing it. Somehow I only wrote useful scenes that happened during moments that traditionally work like that. Like a midpoint! I didn't even plan on putting something similar to a midpoint in my short story but not only it works: somehow it wouldn't ever work without.

Oh, and the second draft was a rewrite, not an edit: one document on a side of the screen, and a new one on the other. That helped a lot.

The third draft was me crying while paying attention to my writing and tearing the prose apart. Filters, abuse of -ing and -ly words (in Spanish are -mente and -ando/-endo), a lot of to-be verbs and a lot of them in unnecessary places or vague language/weasel words.

The fourth draft was the same but after a longer period of time and also polishing the dialogue. The characters had voices but I knew I could do better.

Reyes was so difficult to write. Usually I start with a vague idea of a character, almost as an archetype. But not with him, I just didn't see all of him until the last draft.

I really liked Begonia—I was going to use her more but in the second draft it just didn't made sense. She has a deeper story and personality that would be hinted at... but I didn't.

The prose was a nightmare.

I was trying to get equilibrium with a lot of little details: general stroy details, plot, characters, worldbuilding.

I'm the kind of person who like to suggest myself a theme to use as a compass. Usually when the story is done, I discover more, but a base one is cool. But this story didn't have it. The draft itself didn't took much but between those writing days I couldn't understand what I was going for with this... until I did.

I can't get over the structure. It made sense. And I wasn't even trying (that hard).

That midpoint. I didn't know what I was doing and it worked beautifully.

I thought the dialogue would be worst. Didn't need to change that much.

When I found the theme (to give you an idea, usually for me theme go hand in hand with internal conflict/desire) everything made sense.

The music was perfeeect. Ironically I didn't used the YouTube mix, but thanks to listening to it, it recommended me Nightclub and they reaaally got the vibes.

There's a bunch of details I didn't know why I was putting them (it just felt right or logical) and when you see the big picture they make sense and create layers in the story. Reyes only made sense to me after noticing that. Not only him... but specially him lol

#writing #fiction writing #writeblr #writing update #short story #dark fantasy #vampire #short stories #spanish #new writerblr #vampires

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dwarrowdams · 4 years

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Okay, so I am saying this here because saying it elsewhere might just be the end of my (fledgling) career as an author.

I’ve previously read and enjoyed books written by Brooklyn Ray/Taylor Brooke (a queer + nonbinary white author), but their social media presence was...not my fave. I saw them drag readers over small things and eventually I couldn’t take the negative vibes so I just unfollowed them, even though something told me that there was more than just ~bad vibes~ going on here.

Giving myself some space helped me to figure out what about them rubbed me the wrong way. Was it that they RT-ed a tweet that amounted to “free menstrual products are important, but please don’t bash on free condoms bc activists worked hard to make that happen” by saying the OP was tone policing people who menstruate? Was it the fact that they said that you can’t be Christian and a witch?

Neither of those rubbed me the right way, but the thing that got me was them saying that they disliked POSE because of the queer stereotypes.

That didn’t sit right with me, because POSE is one of very few pieces of modern media that centers Black trans women. If you don’t like it, whatever, but saying that it’s stereotypical ignores the fact that so few Black trans women have been allowed to exist in queer spaces. Stories of queer folks with AIDS (or queer folks who are homeless) usually center cis white people, so seeing a story like this focus on Black trans women as stereotypical is...odd, particularly since Janet Mock (a Black trans woman) writes, directs, and produces the show.

Tonight, it all clicked into place.

The comment on POSE.

Their positive review of a book that readers of color have called out for racism (and of course their review doesn’t mention that there’s anything racially problematic in the book).

(White reviewers have mentioned these issues as well.)

The fact that they released an anthology of stories by nonbinary authors and only two authors included were POC (again, please correct me if I’m wrong).

While that might seem fine (it’s the same number of authors of color as the recently released romance anthology He’s Come Undone, after all), there are nine stories in Behind the Sun, Above the Moon.

There are five stories in He’s Come Undone. So compare the 40% ratio of authors of color in He’s Come Undone to the 22.2% ratio of Behind the Sun, Above the Moon. It’s pretty damn telling.

Brooklyn Ray/Taylor Brooke is one of the White Queers who does not acknowledge the white privilege they have. They are sidlining and ignoring queer/trans people of color and from my knowledge, they have not taken a step back and acknowledged that any of these actions are problematic.

I am tired of seeing white queers who don’t examine their white privilege and racial biases—and I’m white, so I can only imagine how tired queer people of color are of seeing white queers doing this.

While it may be tempting to do so, please do not @ them on social media about this—they can get really nasty with folks over very little, even if those folks are calm and polite (see image below or click the link).

(context: Taylor had vague-tweeted about an article praising Leigh Bardugo’s NINTH HOUSE and someone was asking for the link to the article)

Just stay away from them and use your energy to support trans authors of color: today, this month, and every damn day.

If this is something you want to talk about on Twitter, do so very carefully because I’ve also seen this author post screenshots of tweets where their name was censored out. (Did someone send them the pics? Did they poke around looking for their censored out name? Idk, but something is definitely rotten in the state of Denmark.) I do hope that they learn to be a better ally to QTPOC, but I don’t want any of y’all risking your mental health by trying to confront them directly.

Fellow white queer folks, we need to do better so that the people of color in our queer community can openly be themselves without being criticized for not fitting the White Queer Ideal.

Update: As of today (6/29/20), Brooklyn Ray/Taylor Brooke/Taylor Barton has been dropped by their agent and all of their publishers. However, they are planning to self-publish the books they wrote as Brooklyn Ray (and perhaps others) using the same pseudonym and the same book titles. The fact that they felt the need to harass me for telling others not to buy their books bc they’re racist + for speaking out against their harassment of other writers says a lot.

Also worth noting: the fact that everyone they harassed when they reactivated their @/BrookieRayWrite Twitter a couple days ago is a) a new writer with fewer industry connections b) trans/nonbinary c) a person of color, or some combination of A-C, is pretty damn telling.

Obviously they have not changed and their apologies were not sincere (especially not the “wah my team made me apologize” one). They are not worth your time or energy.

(Note: I apologize for not having links/screenshots for all of this—I didn’t think to screenshot the tweets mentioned early on because I didn’t imagine I’d have to make a post like this, but I did try my best to find what I could.)

(Another Note: Edited to include the link to the screenshotted tweet and added links to reviews of Docile by white reviewers that address the racist issues of the novel.)

(A Third Note: Edited to reflect that there was one author of color in the nonbinary anthology; my thanks to the anon who corrected me.)

(A Fourth Note: Edited to reflect that there was another author of color in the aforementioned anthology; my thanks to the anon who corrected me. Also added update on the situation and deleted the call for folks to share their experiences bc they absolutely have.)

#hush Bree #long post ///#also the POC I follow in the book community haven't read their stuff #which is...telling #also I'm not joking about that ending my writing career #they have some cachet in the romance world and I don't wanna piss them off #(at least not under my pseudonym)#(I'm totally chill with pissing them off as tumblr user dwarrowdams)#also sorry if this is kind of a mess #I couldn't sleep until I wrote it #also I'm def making a list of books by trans authors of color

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carbootsoul · 4 years

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i was tagged by @katarahairloopies!!! thank u :mwah:

name: leo! @/zeitgeistofnow on ao3, @lazypigeon & @timetohope on here, altho i’m considering uh switching back to not having an art blog :/ i have to think abt it.

fandom(s): ace attorney is my main one rn bc i’m replaying the games with a friend of mine and it’s reminding me how invested i am in the characters!! a lot of my recent fic is atla stuff, altho i’ve been distancing myself from the fandom bc i’ve kinda exhausted my interest in it. finally i’ve been reading a lot of mp100 fic but i don’t think i’ll ever write for it. i just love how dumb all the characters r (with the dubious exception of ritsu)

where you post: ao3!! tbh i always get suprised when people say they write/read fic on any other platform like i haven’t messed around w wattpad or ff.net since middle school... catch up........

most popular oneshot: going just by “one chapter” as the definition of a oneshot, the firestarters, bc it’s fluffy and modern au :) i wouldn’t necessarily call it a oneshot tho bc to me a oneshot shows like, one scene? so like by my definition and your sweet sweet sun makes me crazy (i wanna lay you down and see how you amaze me is my most popular!! (also @ kit u thought UR fic titles were unnecessarily long??? i’ve hit the ao3 LIMIT for characters in titles. it’s about the aesthetic

most popular multichapter fic: sdkjflakjlkj it’s two crowned kings; and one that stood alone, which is a w359 fic i wrote back in late 2017. it’s literally the last fic i haven’t orphaned from when i actually wrote podcast fic (i have 4 other podcast fics but they were all borne out of nostalgia and written after i stopped participating in the fandom). i rewrote all but the last chapter? the last two? about a year ago and i fucked up halfway through so like chapter 6 and 7 are repeated and there’s something missing but i’m too lazy to fix it. no one’s going to read it now anyway :) it WAS the top minlace fic for a little while tho which i take great pride in.

favorite story you’ve written so far: oh that’s a hard question akfsldkfj i honestly like most of them!! and i write a LOT so there’s a lot to choose from. tonight, we are young is def one of my favorites- it was fun to write and i got to explore the ways zuko and yue r similar, which i LOVE to do outside of a zukka/yukka view. you can lean on my arm as you break my heart is one that i’m really proud of? the whole “cooking as an expression of bato’s love” is definitely some of my favorites. a lot of my ace attorney fics would be categoried as my favorites if i hadn’t improved, too, if that makes sense. like they’re no long my favorites because i can see where my writing is shitty and it bothers me, but if i had written them a month ago they’d be my favorite.

fic you were nervous to post: figures 1-5: killing gods def!! it’s a lot more purple-prose-y than most of my fics and it was also written before i’d kinda like emersed myself in the atla fandom so i didn’t have as good a grasp on the general understanding of zuko’s character as i do now. tbh it’s one i’m rly happy w tho!! i have a few people leave really nice comments on it and rereading them makes me really happy. also it was the start of me hating the position of fire lord and being at least passively anti-it in my fics.

how you choose your titles: they’re almost all song lyrics!! only 14 of my 50 words AREN’T song lyrics and about half of those are from before i started writing ace attorney fic lol. sometimes i go into a fic with a song in mind for the vibes and then i usually go with lyrics from that (like in ‘cuz we’re the greatest /they’ll hang us in the louvre), but otherwise i usually pick an artist i’ve been listening to and go through their songs until i find a lyric that fits. sometimes the lyric doesn’t even really fit the fic and i just chose it at random or because i searching up the word “fly” in my spotify library or whatever. honestly i like coming up with titles? i know a lot of fic writers hate it but being able to just use song lyrics is v soothing for me and while i know that most people won’t search out a song just bc it’s a fic title like.. seeing that the title of a fic is a hozier lyric does affect how i read it and i kinda like that.

do you outline? i outline my long form/multichaptered fics with varying strictness. usually anything over ~8k will have some kind of outline. sometimes i go into it with every single scene planned out, sometimes it’s just notes on the side of the google doc that say “it's about MORE family. about how it's not betraying your existing family to find more” and “scenes i want to include: [...]” and “vampires... ngl kinda hot.” i’m trying to outline super strictly less bc i’ve found it’s less fun? but i do try to keep a plot arc in mind. since most of my fics are more character-driven than plot-driven, that usually just means keeping track of what character development i want to happen or what is motiviating the characters.

complete: um everything posted on ao3 i guess. also the MULTITUDE of orphaned fics out there asksfjldkj i always click ‘leave my pseud on’ so if u look up my username you see all of my fics and then a. lot of other ones.

in progress: - a fic titled ‘dad phoenix’ that is actually just a no DL-6 au with defense attorney miles edgeworth and single dad bartender phoenix where neither of them want to date for A While but phoenix gets wrapped up in one of miles’s cases. it’s about family. it’s about writing teenagers. it’s about the background franmaya which is ALWAYS what i’m here for in wrightworth fics - a franmaya werewolf/vampire au because i’m ~gay~ and love rivals to lovers and also franziska and maya both being angry their older brothers r dating each other. - my secret santa fic!! which i can’t talk about much but it does feature toph and zuko and also piandao and jeong jeong???? idk where they came from but they are Part Of The Fic Now also i forgot iroh existed for half the fic and wrote piandao as zuko’s father figure and now i’m in too deep. - a 5+1 bakoda fic (maybe a bato/hakoda/kay fic??? i need to decide. that’s part of why this fic is still incomplete bc i can’t decide which relationship dynamic i prefer) that’s 5 times bato said he loves hakoda and one time hakoda said it back. possibly i have already written him saying i love u back and i need to change the title a little. - retail au klapollo where klavier works at an overpriced boutique and apollo comes in to buy earrings for nahyuta’s birthday. klavier gives him a punch card (one that the store doesn’t actually offer anymore as a bid to get apollo to come back) and all of apollo’s family come in to use the punch card and also give klavier variations on the shovel talk/find out if he’s actually into apollo. - a LOT of atla fics that i don’t think i’ll ever finish :(

coming soon/not yet started: - i want to write some blackmadhi bc they’re.. cute..... and it’s a good excuse to also write athena and i love her - my stuff for yueki week!!! i have NOT prepped enough but hopefully i’ll remember in time! i wrote the prompts in a way that kinda set up stuff i’ve already wanted to write (don’t look at me lol) so hopefully i’ll get at least two or three fics finished in time. - i want to rewrite the wrightworth fic i have about them not getting married bc it was interesting and i like what i wrote about but i think i could have written it better and made it more interesting. rewriting fics is hard tho bc i’m never sure if it makes sense to just edit in the new work or to repost it? and then if u repost it do u delete the old one? conflicting so i might just not

do you accept prompts? totally!!! a disclaimer tho i’m not super into writing atla stuff anymore (most of the atla stuff i’m still writing is something i made a commitment to finish) so if your prompt is an atla one i probably won’t do it :/ basically anything else is fair game tho!! podcasts/aa/sa/uh i don’t remember anything else but like if you search a fandom on my blog and come up with more than two posts about it chances r i’d be happy to write fic for it!

upcoming work that you’re most excited about: oh huh i mean probably the no dl-6 au!!! it’s the longest ace attorney fic i’ve written already and since it’s wrightworth it’ll get more attention than any franmaya fic i write. my standards r so high now tho after getting to much feedback from atla fans... love u all... obviously i have no choice but to pressure my atla mutuals into playing ace attorney. pls ask abt it bc i WIll Give You A Sales Pitch about why you’d like it in relation to atla

tagging: i’m not rly tagging anyone!!! @deadflora if you still consider urself a fic writer also consider urself tagged! also any of my other mutuals who write fic i just can’t think of anyone rn

#leo.txt #thank u!! i think i wrote a lot for this lol #but literally ive been so bored i don't have anything better to do

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ive-been-reminding-you · 5 years

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Mun OoC: Just Be Cool With Each Other

I messaged the person who I know, without a doubt, sent me this anon message, to let them know that I needed to drop our RP. Even though this person made me anxious, I still didn’t want to ghost them. It felt crappy to me to be publicly replying to everyone else and leave them with no answers. So I wrote out a message to inform them and explain why I needed to drop our RP (which I’ll include, along with their reply, under the Keep Reading for the sake of transparency so you can see that I wasn’t rude or insulting, and so you’re not just taking my word for it without seeing my words, if you are so inclined to look at it).

Their response, which only confirmed for me that they were the anon, despite their denial of it, made me so angry that I was in the process of writing a giant call-out-style post about it.

But I won’t do that. I am not my muse.

I am still angry. I am still frustrated that, instead of owning up and apologizing, this person was rude and snarky and flippant about my situation. But, nah.

All I’ll say is this: If someone with a personal, non-RP blog comes to you and asks you to RP, but will only RP in their messages, proceed with caution.

I won’t even say, “ Absolutely do not RP with this person.” Who knows? You might hit it off. I won’t post their name and I won’t write the call-out. I hope they grow from this and learn how to treat people. I genuinely meant what I said at the end of my message that I hope they find partners and have fun on here.

I hate drama. I just want to write and make friends, as I’ve said a trillion and one times on here. But I also want people to be aware of this so they can make a more informed decision and not potentially have the same thing happen to them.

Now, I’m gonna do a couple of replies tonight. At the very least, I’ll do one or two. I’d like to do even more if I can. I’ll be starting with the ones that have been waiting the longest and work my way up. After tonight, I’ll do more on Thursday and/or Friday.

Thanks for being so lovely and patient with me throughout this horrible time. It means the world to me.

⚔️ Spike ⚔️

I’ll be posting the screenshots, so you can see that it is exactly what I said, and then I’ll post the text because I know that reading screenshots is hard sometimes. I was explaining how they made me feel, why I knew that they were the anon, why I couldn’t write with them anymore, and I even stated no ill will whatsoever.

Also, apologies for the long-form of the posts. I would have liked to post them as a grid, but if there’s a way to do that in a text post, I don’t know how. I’m also sorry for all the text. I tried to give context where needed and stuff.

The text:

((Hello. It’s taken me a while to write this because I was trying to think of what to say. I said I wouldn’t leave you hanging, so I am letting you know that I need to drop our RP. I wish I didn’t have to, and I thought long and hard about it, but it’s the best thing for me.

I know that you were the anonymous person who sent that message. I know because it was written exactly the way you talk to me when we’re not doing the RP. I know because you are the only person that I write with who has pressured me for replies, no matter how many public posts I make talking about how poorly I’m doing. Everyone else tells me not to worry and to take care of myself. You are the only one who asks when I’m getting to your reply. Even when I made the post about my partners letting me know if they wanted to continue our threads, your response was to remind me that I still owed you one. Not to say that you were still interested, but to /remind/ me that you “still need a reply”.

It’s gotten to the point where continuing with our thread will cause me more anxiety. I say “more” anxiety because it has gotten to where I get anxious when I see a notification from you. The first time you ever asked me how I was doing, it turned into you lamenting that all of your partners were on hiatus at the same time. Which is why I didn’t reply to the second time you asked.

I don’t say any of this to attack you. I say this because you need to know that this isn’t how you treat RP partners. Especially when you’re already asking to RP in messages, which is difficult for some people to do, and you have people willing to do that. It was hard for me as a neurodivergent person to keep track of everything, and have to edit in the messages, but I felt bad because I feel everyone who wants to RP should have a chance to do that. I don’t know why you don’t want to start a blog for RP, but I think you should. At least consider it. You’ll also probably get more partners that way. A lot of people are wary of RP in private to begin with, even without the difficulties it presents for some people.

All that’s left for me to say is that I wish you the best. Please don’t pressure anyone else for replies. Please consider starting a public blog. Other than that, I still hope you find people to write with and that you have fun on here.

Regards, Spike)) <Then I added the link to the anon message>

To clarify about the lamenting about their partners part: The first time they asked me how I was doing, I responded thinking that they actually wanted to have a friendly chat. However, within 3 replies, it turned into, “When are you going to get back to the RPs?” They never cared about me as a person. They only cared about whether they were getting their replies. And once I knew that for sure, I didn’t respond to the only other time they asked how things were going.

Maybe I shouldn’t have explained? Idk, it’s always been hard for me to figure out when to explain and when to keep it simple. Maybe I should have just left it at, “Hey, I need to cut back on some RPs and I have to cut yours, sorry”? If that’s the case, then, yes, I didn’t see that at the time. To be quite honest, though, I doubt that would have been any better. But I know that I would want to know why if someone dropped me and seemingly kept everyone else’s threads, and also seemed to be taking on new ones. And I also know that if someone sent me a message like this, I’d be upset that I made someone feel that way and be apologetic as hell. I definitely wouldn’t send this as a reply (the part that upset me most is highlighted):

This is also the part that confirms for me that they were the anon. “Haven’t bothered” with my blog. When I certainly was updating, however scarcely, about my situation and how hard things have been for me. One such update was the anon message, itself. They continue to behave as though this blog should have been my priority. Regardless, even on the small chance that I was wrong and they weren’t the anon, all the rest of how they behaved still stands.

Either way, I’m just glad I’m done with that and I hope things remain quiet. They unfollowed me and I blocked them. I just want to be able to have my hobby in peace.

#mun ooc #don't do this

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krreader · 6 years

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BTS scenario → them being the good guy, you being the bad girl.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; college!au ; sex ; public sex ; oral sex ; language genre: smut ; angst ; fluff

a/n: oh my fucking god, this is so fucking good of a request that I literally am so inspired to write 29292 stories out of these scenarios lol. I really hope you all like them (and why the fuck do almost all of them revolve around sex lol. can you tell I’m about to have my period and am horny 24/7 - editing update: idk when i wrote that but honestly, can still relate lol) (masterlist is in my description box)

kim seokjin

All Jin had wanted to do was spend a few peaceful hours in the library to study for the test he'd have next week. And at this late hour, it was simply the best time for him to do so, only a few students scattered here and there.

But tonight, there would be no peace.

Not when you entered the library and sat down in front of him.

“Hey Kim.”

“This is a library,” he said, his voice relatively low, “People want to study here.”

“Come on, babe,” you smiled sweetly, waited until he finally raised his head until you let your foot glide up his leg. You could see him tense, but he didn't scoot away.

He'd never scoot away from your touch.

“(Y/N),” he warned. Or at least tried to make it sound as a warning.

“There's this really nice corner over there,” you nodded towards a secluded section in the back, “You and I could check out the books.. see if there's anything interesting for you there?”

You got up before he did, but he didn't manage to sit still for more than ten seconds longer before he ran after you.

Jin had considered himself to be a good student before. One who followed the rules.

Until you entered his life and now..-

..- now he was fucking his girlfriend into a bookshelf and praying that nobody would come find you two here or his reputation would quickly go down and join yours on the floor.

min yoongi

Yoongi liked to stay within his group of friends. He had his brothers/frat members and that's all he ever needed. He didn't need to go partying or anything when he could just stay at home and enjoy his night with them.

But then one night changed everything.

One night, in which you and a couple of your girlfriends had decided to drive around town and play pranks on every frat house you could find. And unfortunately, Yoongi's was one of them.

“What the hell?” he asked as he was walking outside, still in his pajamas, just like his frat members.

“Oh, did I wake you up?” you laughed, your head cocked to the side, “Sorry, grandpa.”

“Grandpa?!” Yoongi repeated, furrowing his eyebrows.

To his left, he could see Taehyung and Jeongguk trying to get your girlfriends to stop throwing toilet paper over the bushes and against the windows. But all he could really focus on was you, especially when you came dangerously close.

“Aren't you?” you licked your lips.

Yoongi tried telling himself that you weren't worth it. That he didn't have to prove anything to you and that he was better than this.

‘Just turn around and walk back inside, Yoongi. Just.. turn.. around and..-’

But there was that challenging glint in your eyes that had him say: “Come inside and I'll show you differently.”

Your plan for tonight was really just to play pranks, not get fucked mercilessly by someone you thought was a boring guy that was mentally 90.

And if Min Yoongi proved you one thing that night, it's that he was not boring at all.

jung hoseok

“I really want to go home,” Hoseok sighed deeply, trying to convince his hyungs to go home early from this party.

He just hated these things. He'd rather stay at home with pizza and and watch a movie. Parties just weren't his thing.

But tonight was one of his frat member's friends birthday party and so he had let himself be dragged here.

And regretted it more than anything, especially when three girls suddenly walked up to him and his friends, you at the front.

“Hoseok, right?”

“Y..- Yeah?” he knew who you were. Well, everyone knew who you were. Maybe that's why he was so intimidated.

“Okay, so here's the thing. Somebody dared me to do something and I'm really not someone who likes to lose..”

“Okay?”

“The dare is to get you to sleep with me.”

Hoseok's head immediately whipped to his two frat members that had dragged him here, Jimin and Taehyung immediately giving him a huge thumbs up.

“She’d treat you really good,” one of your friends said sweetly.

“Better than anyone has ever treated you,” the other one added.

Hoseok would lie if he said he wasn't interested. The last time he's had good sex was with his ex and he's been single for over three years now.

That's probably why he agreed. And because you were literally the most beautiful woman he had seen in ages and never thought you’d even talk to him.

But after that night, it was actually you that reached out to him. Because you couldn’t let a man like that go, not when he was actually the one that treated you like a freaking queen.

kim namjoon

He was doing this for credits. He was doing this so that he could be someone important one day, just like he always wanted.

But now that he was brushing his hands over his face, completely done with you, he didn't know if this was worth it.

“Can't we just take a break? Do something fun?” you wanted to pull out a cigarette, but Namjoon quickly took them away and threw them in the garbage.

“(Y/N), if you don't get this into your head soon, you will fail this semester.”

“So what? I don't care,” you shrugged, leaning back with crossed arms.

“But I do!” did that just come out of his mouth? Why was he so upset over this? You were a bitch, everyone knew that. So why did he care so much? You seemed to ask yourself the same thing, surprised that anyone would care about something like your grades, “You think your act is so cool, right? Well, guess what? It's not. Because I know that even though you like to pretend to be stupid because that's cooler, you're actually really smart. So stop pretending to be this person you're not. Stop pretending like you don't care, when you do!”

Nobody has ever talked to you like that.

If they had, you would have kicked their asses.

But instead, you blinked at Namjoon a couple of times and then pulled the book back towards you, turning it to the next page.

And Namjoon let out a breath, beginning to smile softly.

park jimin

Jimin and a friend of his were sitting in an empty lecture hall, talking, laughing.. getting to know each other a little better maybe.

She and him didn't know each other very well yet, but if it was up to Jimin, he would like to change that.

But there was still that matter of..-

“Oh, come on, Park. Seriously?” you leaned against the door frame, chewing on your gum as you were looking at him and the girl in disgust.

Great.. he didn't really need his ex-girlfriend on a day like this. So he quickly apologized to the girl and told her to wait, before he ran up to you and dragged you into the hallway.

“What do you want here?!”

“Just wanted to see if she sucked you off yet,” you shrugged.

“Stop being jealous. We broke up, remember?”

“You broke up.. and nobody ever breaks up with me, Jimin,” you cocked your head to the side, “Just.. come back to me, okay? We can work out whatever bothered you and I can give you exactly what you want.”

You tried to be seductive, but the second you wanted to touch Jimin, he pushed your hand away.

“I don't want anything from you, (Y/N)! You and me.. we're just way too different! But her..-” Jimin turned his head to the side to look at the other girl, suddenly turning a lot softer, “She's right for me. She understands me and she’s kind and sweet and..- please, just..- leave me alone, I'm begging you.”

You had tried to win him back for months. That's how much you loved him. But Jimin never seemed to see that. All he saw was the bad girl that only wanted to smoke, drink and have sex. He didn't see how much you had changed because of him. How much you wanted to become a better person because of him.

You watched him go back into the lecture hall, your squad showing up behind you.

“Should we have our fun with her?” one of the girl asked, “Maybe show her that you don’t mess with our boss’s men?”

You blinked a couple of times, a lonely tear running out of your eyes as you watched the two of them smile at each other before you said: “Yes.”

kim taehyung

“Where are you going? Church?” you laughed as you passed Taehyung on the parking lot of the shopping center.

“What if I was?” he tried walking faster, but you were quicker, pushing yourself between him and the door to his car.

“I'd say that sinning is a lot more fun than praying.”

Taehyung's breathing hitched in his throat from how close you were and tried telling himself that the last time was a mistake. That it was a one-time thing and that just because he jerked off to the memories of being buried inside you didn't mean that he wanted to do it again.

He was a good guy. You weren't. You were mean and you broke the rules and..-

..- god, you were so fucking attractive.

“My roommates are out for the day, you know?” you whispered, getting up on your tiptoes to quickly kiss his lips.

But that was enough for him to open the door and push you inside.

It was thankfully dark outside, the parking lot being almost empty anyways, because you and him did not manage to make it back to your apartment.

jeon jeongguk

Jeon Jeongguk liked to steer clear of trouble.

He attended his classes in the morning, went to the gym, went home to study and went to bed.

Every day the same thing.

It might be boring for some, but it was enough for him.

Until one day, the doors to the gym got opened and you walked in. And then everything changed.

“Jeongguk! Hey, are you in here?!”

Jeongguk bit his lip, looking down at you and begging you to stop sucking him off in the shower with his eyes, but you only grinned around his cock, making him moan out loud almost.

“Ah, yeah.. I'm here, hyung.”

“A couple of us wanted to meet to study later at my place.. do you want to come too? I'll order pizza.”

The old Jeongguk would have said yes in a heartbeat. Pizza, friends and studying sounding great.

The new Jeongguk, however, knew that he would rather take his new girlfriend home and screw her so hard that she would cry eventually, not study a single bit, because he'd rather hold her all night long and wonder how the hell he managed to score someone that was so unlike him.

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass tonight. I'm.. kinda tired..-”

“No problem, man. Rest up!”

And as soon as the doors were closed, you released his penis with a plop and smiled up at him, “Any plans for tonight?”

“So many,” he laughed darkly and pulled you up from the floor, picking you up like you were a feather.

#bts imagine #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan reaction #bangtan boys #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #bangtan sonyeondan #reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan boys x reader #requests

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chocojjk · 6 years

Text

Home

summary: idol! boyfriend minho forgets about you? idk i suck at summaries,, just read it,, please ùwú

warnings: nothing really just a bottle of wine and a whole lot of angst because there’s not enough minho angst on here

words: 1.7k ,, I think

also,, not edited but

anyways, letsgetit

having an idol boyfriend was not easy

especially when his life moved way faster than yours did and you’re just stuck there waiting for him to have time for you

everything was great before, your relationship with minho was one that everyone was envious of

you guys were the “it” couple, the one where everyone looked at and wished that they had their person

because that was what you and minho are

you are his person and he is yours

and you thought that it was going to stay like that forever

but of course happiness is a temporary state and nothing lasts forever

you see, there’s always a balance, a person can’t stay happy for too long, the day will come where that scale will fluctuate

and that’s exactly what started happening

things started changing

minhos career has rocketed and you being the supportive partner that you are, cheered him on through it all

eventually minho had to move out of your guys’ shared apartment and in the dorms with the rest of the boys

which was completely okay with you, because he still came home to you when his career wasn’t calling him

the first few months of change was fine, you guys were killing it, people were still envious

but life continues to move

minho became busier

the fun filled texts that were usually packed with memes and countless of i love you’s were replaced by “I won’t be home tonight”

the daily FaceTime calls turned into weeks then months and eventually just whenever he had the time

you were okay with it, you understood that his schedule was busy especially with the tour going on and the new comeback that his group was preparing

you loved him and didn’t want to ever hold him back from reaching his dreams

but god, it was tiring to always be last on his list when he was always first on yours

maybe it was your fault, maybe you had to learn to be like him and start prioritizing new things...new people

maybe it was time to move on

but every time you look back to the times that you had with minho, the more you couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye

so you endure the pain

you made up excuses for him

it wasn’t until he forgot your 3rd year anniversary and you’re sitting there in the apartment that you guys shared, waiting for the boy that you loved for the umpteenth time that you finally notice the emptiness that surrounds you

the apartment that used to be filled with the sound of his laughter mixing into yours as you guys danced to whatever was playing on the tv was no longer there

you checked your phone for anything, even a small “happy anniversary babe” would suffice

but you were left looking at your lock screen that contained no new messages

instead you were faced with a picture of the two of you looking into each other, eyes full of love

it felt so long ago but you remembered every detail of that day

it was the first time you guys moved in the apartment, you guys have just finished placing the little to no things you have around the space that you guys would call your home

really all that was there was a mattress, a microwave, and a couple of framed pictures but you both were content

the thrill of what’s to come next excited the two of you

you can already imagine the space being filled around you

“one day we’ll have enough money to make this place beautiful and really call it our home”

“dummy it’s not about the place,” minho retorted

“what do you mean?”

“i mean we could be living in a 5 story mansion or we could be living in a box and it’ll still be home as long as im with you”

you guys have been together for two years during this time yet he still found a way to make your heart flutter more and more

“god, you’re so cheesy”

“you love me”

“i do”

“now lets take pictures”

a hundred selfies later, as you guys lay down on the mattress, your head in his chest, his arms loosely hung around yours you realize that he was right

it doesn’t matter where you were as long as you had him

“i hope we don’t end up living in a box”

as you smile back to that memory, the sound of the clock ticking brought you back to reality

every single tick felt like a gunshot to your heart

when it finally reached 11pm, you accepted defeat

the boy will not be showing up

again

and so you grabbed the wine that you bought to be enjoyed for two and sat yourself in front of the tv

the dinner on the table was abandoned as you put on a romantic movie

classic right? god, you just loved to torture yourself

not even bothering to grab a glass, you take a swig right out of the fresh new bottle

“happy fucking anniversary,” you sighed as the tears finally made its way down your face and the liquid burned your throat

eventually you fell into a deep slumber that caused you to not notice the creaking of the door opening

at exactly 2pm minho steps into the room, his eyes first landing on the table filled with his favorite foods, clearly untouched

as his eyes continued to wander he finally spots you on the couch, the bottle of wine empty and hugged to your chest

the smudged lipstick and remnants of your mascara were enough to prove that you were crying

and damn, he felt so guilty

it’s not that he forgot it was your anniversary, he’s just been so busy that he lost track of the days

but even that wasn’t a good enough excuse, as busy as he is, he has never missed an important day before so why now

scolding himself in his head, he makes a mental note to make it up to you the next day

grabbing the empty bottle of wine and placing it on the coffee table, he picks you up and heads towards your shared bedroom

“aish, why did you get so drunk” he quietly asks even though he already knew the answer

it wasn’t until you were in his arms that he realized how much he truly missed you

he gently places you on the bed, making sure you were in a comfortable position before he headed to the bathroom to grab your makeup wipes

by the time he was wiping your lipstick off, you finally awoken

“minho?”

“hi princess” he replied as he shot you one of his signature smiles

you were about to return the expression until you realized why he was taking your makeup off in the first place and now you were just filled with rage

“you forgot. ”

knowing exactly what you were talking about he quickly shot back an “im sorry I just lost track of the day i promise it won’t happen again”

“that’s the thing minho”

at this point you were sitting upright, looking straight at him

“you keep on promising that it won’t happen again but it happens again. every. time. ”

“i-“

“no, okay. it’s my turn to talk. minho, i love you and you know that i would drop anything if it means that it would make you happy. but shit minho, i didn’t expect that i would have to be giving up respecting myself in order to love you,,, look at me, i’m a fucking mess”

“im sorry”

“and you, you just live your life traveling with your best buds, with absolutely no care in the world -“

“don’t say that”

“you don’t care minho! you don’t care that someone is waiting at home for you!”

“y/n I said I was busy!, why can’t you just understand that!”

he didn’t mean to raise his voice but he was just so frustrated

yes, he did miss your anniversary but he didn’t forget

and he came home to you as soon as he figured out his mistake

and maybe you are right, he doesn’t care

he didn’t care about the trouble he was about to be in for sneaking out of the dorms, he didn’t care that he left 8 of his brothers with no explanation just so he could make his way home to you

he didn’t care, because at that time all he cared about was you

but you didn’t know that

and you didn’t give him any chance to explain his self

but why should you? when you’ve already heard everything before

“i think we should stop”

“what?”

“lets end this”

at this point you were crying

and so was he

“y/n please, you’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying, let’s talk about this tomorrow”

“it’s been almost four hours and i only drank wine, i know what I’m saying”

“y/n-“

he reaches out for your hands but you pulled them back quickly, knowing that one little thing from him will cause you to just fall straight into his arms..and right now, you have to be strong

“you once told me that it doesn’t matter where we are, as long as we have each other then we’re home, but minho i don’t have you anymore”

“i promise I’ll try harder, i’ll text you everyday if I have to! anything to get the old us back!”

you scoff at this

“i don’t want you to force yourself to interact with me because you have to, i want you to do it because you want to. lets face it, i-i don’t have room in your life anymore”

you hated the fact that you stuttered but give yourself a break okAy your heart is being ripped into pieces

“but i-i love you”

as much as you wanted to just crawl into bed with his arms around you, you knew that this needed to stop

and so for the first time in a long time, you’ve decided that it was time to put yourself first

“if you love me then don’t make this harder,, please, just...go”

(A/N): i ran out of data so i decided to be a writer for the day and wrote this in my notes lmao can y’all believe i actually wrote something with my one brain cell ,,,, also is it ok to cry over something you wrote yourself

#stray kids #minho #lee know #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #lee know blurb #stray kids imagines #stray kids au #stray kids scenario #stray kids angst

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elsaclack · 5 years

Note

em i don't really know how i feel about this episode but i know that i usually agree with your opinions so if you don't mind, could you tell me where you're at emotionally speaking with the "problematic" moments from tonight?

oh yeah for sure but please keep in mind that it’s 4:45 am and i have not slept for one single second on this fine april evening

i will also qualify this by saying that i think everyone’s opinions are significant and not to be completely dismissed by those with differing opinions, and that sometimes people just Don’t Like A Thing. i am here to tell u that u should definitely take all of this with a grain of salt. if you disagree with me, that’s fine. if you disagree with me but can’t quite figure out why, that’s 100% valid and okay.

i’ll try to be brief, and i’ll be answering this with the understanding that there were three “problematic” moments in this episode: jake’s broad and sweeping “i’ve never wanted kids” statement, amy’s line about starting over, and terry’s whole scene talking to jake about not having kids.

jake is a very emotional person and has canonically reacted emotionally to situations before without taking the time to logically think through his options and the consequences of those options. the timing of his statement is particularly important in this scenario - he was unexpectedly put on the spot and made to have a very serious conversation on an evening in which he was in no way emotionally prepared to have such a conversation. he makes it clear at the beginning of the episode, his intentions are to have a lighthearted and fun evening catching up and laughing with amy, who he hasn’t really hung out with in a month due to their busy work schedules. him saying “i’ve never wanted to have kids” is a definitive statement - one clearly meant to end a conversation he didn’t want to be having in the first place, reflecting him kind of stubbornly clinging to the lightheartedness he intended for the evening. to me, it’s not only indicative of his tendency toward emotional responses to uncomfortable situations, but also one of his own sense of procrastination - another canon-confirmed aspect of his personality. it’s not the mature way to handle the situation, but it is very human, and based on my perception of who he is as a character, is in-line with who he is and how he handles things that make him uncomfortable.

which brings me to amy’s line. i won’t even lie i said “yikes” out loud as soon as she said it bc boy it made my heart hurt. but, again, the longer i thought about it the more it made sense. it was just as emotional of a response as jake’s “i’ve never wanted to have kids” was - hers cut deeper due to jake’s childhood and his own experiences with fatherhood. i need to word this carefully and my head feels stuffed full of cotton so hang with me here. up until this episode, we as a fandom seemed to universally accept the headcanon that jake Really Really wants kids specifically because of his throw-away comments that have been happening since season 1 - prior to him and amy even starting a relationship. based on the limited exposure we have to his dialogue, we inferred that he wanted kids. i don’t think it’s that outlandish for amy to have made the same assumption because of those very same lines. was it stupid to not sit down and have this conversation prior to getting married to ensure that they were on the same page? absofreakinglutely. but they’ve been dealing with major curveballs and setbacks from the very get-go that most Normal couples don’t have do really deal with - i think the more pressing issue for them was “we need to get married before jake gets wrongfully imprisoned or sent back to WITSEC again.” not to mention the road between halloveen and jake and amy was not exactly smooth sailing for the department as a whole. i think amy was pretty content with her assumption that jake wants kids since he hasn’t really done anything to stop charles from constantly dropping hints about it and always responds positively whenever there are kids around. so when jake hit her with “i’ve never wanted kids” i guarantee it landed like a punch to the gut and left her feeling ambushed, isolated, and extremely emotional (specifically the killer combination of angry/hurt/confused). her talking about starting over was just that, talk - born completely out of her emotional state, without any real consideration of the weight of her words and the effect they would have on jake.

(by the way, i think jake was also operating on an assumption about amy, considering she’s never directly talked about wanting kids in canon, and never specifically said “we should start trying for a kid” when she showed him the water park picture. again, a classic and honestly realistic representation of miscommunication between a married couple. amy “forcing” him to make a decision “right then” (which wasn’t actually right then, just faster than jake wanted to make the decision) was her heading off his tendency to procrastinate dealing with serious and uncomfortable situations. neither of them were mature or even in the right, but it all strikes me as realistic.)

the terry scene also makes a lot of sense to me. i think most people heard the “don’t have kids” part at the very beginning and were understandably ticked, but to me his main message was “don’t have kids unless you’re 100% sure” since it isn’t fair to the parents to have kids they don’t want, but it’s ESPECIALLY not fair to the kids, who did not ask to be brought into the world or to deal with (a) parent(s) who don’t want them. because parenting is hard work and it’s really not for everyone. terry isn’t trying to talk jake out of ever having kids, he’s just trying to ensure that if jake does decide to have a kid, he fully understands the gravity of that decision. EDIT: now that i’ve stood up/walked around/gotten blood flowing back into my brain, i also think terry was concerned about jake’s history of making rash decisions without thinking things through, which again plays into the “be 100% positive.” in terry’s mind, if there’s even a seed of doubt, it’s something that needs to be very seriously considered and discussed before making that decision. terry isn’t as privy to jake’s emotional state as amy is, nor is he as concerned with jake’s procrastination habits and the affect that has on amy’s ability to have kids further down the line. terry only knows a fraction of the situation and his advice was based on that fraction.

my only issue with this episode was that they didn’t really give the resolution to all of this enough time to resonate. i can kind of follow jake coming to the decision that he does want kids as he’s talking to…whatever the woman’s name was. pam? idk The Woman Who Tried To Blow Them Up, but i wish they’d dedicated more of that time to his conversation with amy after he diffused the situation. that part felt rushed to me, and i wish they’d done something similar to what @peraltasames wrote in her most recent fic. but otherwise, i did like this episode and i thought they did a good job creating a tense situation based on miscommunication without compromising anyone’s character to do so.

but again that’s just my opinion!!! opinions are entirely objective and based on personal perceptions and experiences so if you disagree with something i’ve said that’s 200% okay and you are entitled to that opinion but please be nice to me i’m extremely sleep deprived lmao

#b99 #b99 spoilers #em answers #Anonymous #casecation discourse

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thotantics · 6 years

Text

Broken Hearts Club

⚤ pairing — reader + Oh Sehun (exo)

✎ word count — 6.7k

✦ genre — slight angst, smut, porn WITH a plot

✗ warnings — graphic description of sex, alcohol use, strong language etc

[ A/N ] !!PART TWO COMING SOON!! SO I actually really worked hard on this. I made an outline, wrote a rough draft, edited this sucker and everything. I really hope you enjoy it. :)) (ps idk why I used Seokjin in this? he just felt like such a great crush to have idk sldkxduo) Requested — “Could he make you feel as good as I do?” + “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it”

As you sit in silence on Sehun’s bedroom floor, you look over at him. Tall and handsome, his limbs stretched out on his bed, taking up so much room you briefly wondered how he ever managed to fit a girl in there.

The intrusive thought was followed by a brief line of questions in your mind; what kind of girl he liked, how many different girls he’d had in that bed that seemed way too small for his big frame, and lastly you briefly thought to yourself that Sehun was probably a good fuck.

It’s nothing you hadn’t considered before. He’s gorgeous and he carries himself with this sort of quiet confidence that was definitely intimidating at times. Each movement from him seemed graceful and deliberate, it was easy for anybody to see that Oh Sehun was an attractive man.

Plus, you knew him very well. Having been friends for a couple of years, you had shared so many conversations that lasted late into the night - you knew he was supportive, intelligent, passionate, and that he valued your friendship. So when your brain conjured up a random, fleeting thought about Sehun trying to fit a woman into his bed that seemed too small, and then you thought about sex, your next thought pattern led to you skirting around a confession to your long time friend.

“Sehunnie…” You said carefully, attempting to gain his attention away from his phone. He lifted his eyebrows to acknowledge that he was listening, eyes still on the screen.

“If I tell you something, do you promise not to judge me?”

This caught his attention, and he looked over, sitting up slowly on the edge of the bed so he could focus on you. “Of course.” He replied simply.

Taking a deep breath, you let out the words you’d been holding on to for weeks, “I think I’m in love with Kim Seokjin.”

For a long while, Sehun was unreadable. You had hoped saying it out loud would somehow help you make sense of the way you felt, or figure out what to do about it, but looking at your friend’s unreadable expression you couldn’t help but regret ever having told him this in the first place. Besides, it wasn’t like your friendship together had any sort of basis in sharing these types of things with one another. He had never told you about any girlfriends or crushes or dates. It just wasn’t a topic either of you ever brought up and now that you realized it, you felt a little bit ridiculous for blurting it out.

You were about to apologize, to tell Sehun to forget you ever said anything when he finally spoke up.

“Why him?”

You hesitated, not really quite sure how to answer him. “Um. Well…he’s handsome but it’s…more than that. My heart kind of feels really warm and I get all tingly when I’m near him. That’s what love feels like, I guess. Right?”

Sehun laid back down in his bed and said in a bored tone, “I wouldn’t know,” before he grabbed his phone once more, “You hardly know the guy, though, I do know that.”

“I know him well enough.” You countered, “We’ve hung out.”

“Fine. So you’re in love. When’s the wedding?”

“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm.” You told him with a frown. “I was hoping you’d be supportive.”

“What do you want me to do? I don’t care if you have feelings for Kim Seokjin. Tell Kim Seokjin and let him do something about it. It’s none of my business.” And with that, he lifted his phone back in front of his face.

Clearly the subject made him uncomfortable. You attempted to apologize a bit later, but he dismissed your apology with a kiss to your forehead, a tender sign of affection that a man like Sehun reserved for special women in his life - you’d seen him kiss his mother and grandmother the exact same way, and it warmed your heart.

“Don’t worry about it.” He told you. “It’s just weird to think of you…never mind.”

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You told him, “I just trust your opinion and I’ve just been feeling down because of this stupid crush.” There’s a moment of hesitance before you decide it couldn’t hurt to ask, “Do you think he could like me back?”

Sehun sighed heavily, “He’d be an idiot not to.”

A small group of mutual friends were having dinner and you overheard Chanyeol telling Minseok that Sehun had canceled at the last minute.

“What’s wrong? Is he ok?” You asked Chanyeol.

“I’m not sure.” Chanyeol admitted, “I think he’s having dating troubles or something. He’s just been quiet and kind of down lately.” He shrugged, “Whatever it is, you know how he gets when he’s down - he doesn’t open up easily, but he can handle it on his own.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, “I hope so. I had a horror movie marathon by myself last week...normally Sehun joins me but he didn’t respond to my texts.”

“Next time text me.” Chanyeol nudged you with his elbow. “You never invite me over anymore.”

“Sorry, Channie, I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.” You sigh.

“Are you coming to Namjoon’s party this weekend?” Chanyeol asked excitedly, “It’ll help take your mind off of things.”

“Actually, yeah.” You nodded, “I’d love to.”

Chanyeol texted you the info to Namjoon’s surprise birthday party later that night, and you found out the party was being thrown by Seokjin at his apartment. Work was stressful for the rest of the week, and in your spare time you started to think the party that weekend would be a good opportunity for you to confess your feelings to Seokjin.

You texted him to let him know you were coming and casually asked if he needed any help setting things up or maybe buying drinks or food. He replied back that he had everything under control, but he was looking forward to seeing you.

With your confidence boosted by his text, you decided to get yourself a really cute new outfit for Namjoon’s party. The night of, you were holed up in your bathroom for a solid two hours getting ready, but by the time you arrived at Jin’s apartment, you looked good, you felt good, and the atmosphere was perfect.

The place was packed with a lot of familiar faces as well as some people you didn’t know. You sought out Namjoon first, gifting him with the present you had gotten him and congratulating him on his birthday. Around you, people were dancing to music, voices were chatting, people were singing and laughing and drinking.

“Here,” Namjoon said, offering you a red plastic cup. “There’s food in the kitchen if you’re hungry. You look great tonight, by the way.”

“Thank you!” You smile, “Wow, Jin really went all out for your party, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, I was so surprised. I thought I’d get maybe a cake and six guys loudly and badly singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me, I definitely didn’t expect all of this.” Namjoon said with a laugh.

“You deserve all of this and more.” You said, “You’re one of the nicest people I know, Kim Namjoon.”

He blushed, smiling shyly, “Thanks, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to keep you from mingling with your guests,” You said, nodding over his shoulder at someone you didn’t recognize approaching to get his attention, “Happy Birthday again, Joonie.”

“Thanks, Y/N! Have a good night, come and find me if you get hungry, I think I’ll mainly stick to the kitchen.” He laughed, “Taehyung bought the biggest cake I’ve ever seen, it’s like five tiers!”

Laughing, you watch as Namjoon heads to the kitchen with the person who approached him across the room, bragging about the aforementioned cake with big, exaggerated hand gestures. Shaking your head fondly, you turn and briefly scan the faces around you before you head out of the room to look around for the host of the party, the broad-shouldered man who had been running through your mind so frequently for the last few months.

Your stomach is in knots and your head is a little dizzy already, a side effect of your nervous state but the alcohol definitely wasn’t doing you any favors. You finish your first drink and are nursing your second before you find Seokjin. He was out on the balcony with a few others, and you begin to approach him when he spots you and excitedly turns to the person next to him.

“Hey! Babe, I want you to meet my friend!” Seokjin motioned you over, and gestured to the woman on his right. “Y/N, this is my date, Jiwoo, Jiwoo, this is Y/N.”

Your heart sank. Your throat constricted. You reach forward to shake hands with the attractive young woman that Seokjin was proudly introducing you to. “H-hi,” You managed to choke out, “How are you?”

“Hi, I’m fine, and yourself?” She replied, smiling pleasantly at you.

“You two would be really good friends,” Jin told his date before you could stutter out a reply to her. “You remind me of each other.”

Jiwoo smiles sweetly at you, and she chuckles when she speaks to you next but you don’t hear her. Whatever she said made Seokjin laugh and he tucked one arm around her waist. “Ah, really, that’s why Y/N has always been such a good friend, her sense of humor reminds me so much of yours, babe.”

You were spiraling, the alcohol in your bloodstream was probably making this whole situation a lot worse than it actually was, but all you knew for sure was you needed to get out of there, to get away from the two of them, and now. Jiwoo spoke again, teasing Jin and asking if he had a crush on you, but before you could even attempt to try and listen to him respond, you interrupt.

“E-excuse me.” You stuttered, “I-I have to…to…” Unable to form any more coherent words, you rush back inside the apartment. The buzz of the party-goers around you was giving you an instant headache. Tears were welling up in your eyes and your throat was so tight it felt like your breath couldn’t escape your lungs. Your vision seemed to be tunneling, and you worried for a moment that you might actually pass out. Scrambling past the people in your way, you made your way up the stairs and into the farthest bathroom, away from the noise.

You shut the door and immediately slumped over the counter, sobbing so hard your entire frame was shaking. The sorrow made your ribs ache. Seokjin could have liked you, but you were too late. He compared you to his date, and was so enthusiastic for you to meet her. If you had stayed long enough to hear him respond to his date’s joke about having a crush on you, it would have ruined your self-esteem to hear his denial. Or even worse, if he had admitted he had a crush on you and that you really had been too late, you would never forgive yourself. The hurt was piercing you so deeply that you wondered if you could ever be friends with him after this. Your knees weren’t strong enough to hold you, and you sank onto the edge of the tub, burying your face in your hands, and you cried your heart out.

Sehun had only just walked in the front door when he spotted you weaving through the crowd, tears welling your eyes, the expression on your face easy for him to read, but even still he didn’t imagine he would open the bathroom door to find you perched on the edge of the tub, shaking as heavy sobs left your frame. The sound of the door alerted you, and you lifted your head, meeting his gaze. He saw the pain in your eyes, bloodshot and puffy, your makeup smeared all over your face, your hair in tangles.

“What happened?” He asked, shutting the door and dropping to his knees in front of you, “Did someone do this?” You weren’t answering his questions fast enough, sniffling, wiping your cheeks off on your sleeves, “Talk to me.” He encouraged you gently, fear beginning to well up inside of him.

“I was going to confess to Seokjin.” You told him regretfully, “He’s here with someone else. She was teasing him about having a crush on me and I-I just…I had to get out of there.”

For a few moments, Sehun just sat there in front of you, staring up at you while you attempted to wipe your face clean on your brand new clothes, angry you spent money on a confession you never even got to follow through on. After a while, you meet his eyes, feeling vulnerable.

“What?” You ask him quietly.

“You’re really up here hiding away in a bathroom, looking like a complete mess, because you didn’t get to confess a crush to some guy you barely know?” Sehun asks you, and when you stare at him sadly and don’t respond, he pulls away from you, standing and pacing to the other end of the bathroom, “Jesus Christ, you cannot be this stupid?”

Frowning, you tell him defensively, “You don’t have to be so mean about it.”

“Oh, princess, trust me, I’m not being mean. This is not mean. This is me asking you, sincerely, if you’re a fucking idiot or not.” Sehun pointed a finger at you, “I followed you in here because I thought something bad had happened. I thought someone hurt you! I didn’t know you’d be in here throwing a little cry-baby temper tantrum because the boy you like has a new girlfriend.”

“Stop being so mean!” You snap at him, “It hurt my feelings, and you’re making it even worse, ok? So just stop!”

“Aw, are your feelings hurt? Well I’m sorry. But guess what? You hurt me the same way that Kim Seokjin hurt you, but I didn’t run off to the bathroom to hide and cry like a little brat. I still showed up tonight, didn’t I? I was hoping to put it past us. I’m being mature and trying to move on. I was hoping you could see that I’ve gotten over it, that I’m over you, that I-”

“Wait, woah, stop.” You cut him off, holding up your hands, “What the hell are you talking about? You’re over what?”

Sehun scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, ok.”

“Seriously.” You insist, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, how did I hurt you? It wasn’t on purpose, Sehunnie, you should know that…we’ve been such good friends for so long, I would never intentionally hurt you-”

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” Sehun snaps, this time cutting you off before you could finish. You stare at him with big eyes, sadness still evident in them, and as he looks back at you, he realizes one big mistake that he’d made. You were looking up at him with sadness and tenderness in your watery eyes, realizing only at that moment how you felt was how Sehun had been feeling since you admitted your feelings for Seokjin to him. Everything suddenly made sense - his attitude and his absence since that night, the way he was upset with you now. And you feel like a complete idiot for not having figured all of this out sooner.

“I thought…” You begin, your voice small and cracking a bit, so you clear your throat. “I thought we were best friends.”

“I never wanted to be your friend.” Sehun tells you, “I always wanted to be with you.”

Feeling guilty for assuming the worst, for being bitter and angry thinking that you knew all along of his feelings for you and simply didn’t care about hurting him, Sehun moves to sit on the edge of the tub with you, and he gently takes your hand.

“We are best friends.” He assures you quietly. “I love the time we’ve spent together. I’ve been missing you a lot lately, even though hearing you were in love with someone else was really…hard for me to deal with.”

“I’m sorry for hurting you.” You tell him, fresh tears falling down your face now but these ones weren’t for Kim Seokjin, these ones were for Sehun, and he feels the full weight of each droplet fall heavy on his shoulders.

“I really didn’t know.” You insist between sniffles, “I mean, you never really, like, flirt with me or anything. You’ve never told me how you feel. I’m so sorry, Sehunnie, I feel awful.”

He turns and lifts your shoulders, preventing you from slumping down and crying harder, and he cups your cheeks in both hands, swiping under your eyes tenderly with his thumbs, “Don’t cry.” He tells you, “You’ve done enough of that.”

“But I feel so bad.” You tell him, sniffling and trying hard to fight back your tears as his hands move to tuck your hair behind your ears. “I really am stupid, aren’t I?”

“No, no, no, don’t say that. I shouldn’t have said that...I was just angry. I’m sorry.” He sighs heavily before he continues with a defeated tone, “I didn’t flirt with you. Not because I wasn’t into you, because I was...so, so much. I was just trying to show you that I was interested in more than just hooking up or whatever. Do you think I treated all of my friends the way I do you?”

You shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know, I never really thought about it. I just…enjoyed your company. I never second guessed your actions or your words. I always took everything at face value and…god, Sehun, you should have told me.”

He laughs lightly, easing the tension some, which you’re grateful for. “I wouldn’t stay up all night long talking to Junmyeon on the phone.” He points out, “I don’t let Jongin lay in my lap, I don’t try to braid Chanyeol’s hair.” You laugh at the mental picture all of that conjures, and Sehun smiles sweetly at you. “Ah, you really are a stupid girl, aren’t you?”

You shove his chest lightly, “Give me a break.”

”I have!” Sehun insists , “So many times!” He tosses his hands up exasperatedly, “Other than out right yelling directly in your face that I’m in love with you, I tried everything I could think of to make you feel special to me, because you are.”

At this, you stare at him in awe, nearly on the verge of tears again. Sehun looked vulnerable for the first time since you met him - maybe he hadn’t meant to let that word slip out, but you could tell that he meant it, and even though it made your heart soar, it was breaking, too.

“You love me?” You ask him quietly, unable to form any other coherent words, and he looks down, glancing away from your face nervously.

For a while, he doesn’t answer you, and you were feeling the guilt piling up. It was clear that you had hurt Sehun deeply, obviously much more than this silly, immature encounter with Seokjin had hurt you. You were about to start apologizing all over again when he spoke, under his breath and without looking up at you.

“Do you remember that day I had off last year, when you needed a ride back from the airport? I was exhausted. I had been working hard the whole time you were away, it was my only day off, and I picked you up from the airport and took you to dinner?”

You nod your head, remembering that day very clearly. Sehun had been so tired, physically and mentally, but you hadn’t been back home to Seoul in over a month and the two of you had been so excited to see one another, despite your late arrival, you went out for dinner and stayed up almost the whole night.

“I must have tried to kiss you a hundred times that night.” He recalls with a soft smile, his eyes lifting to meet your own, to gauge your reaction. The regret was clear in your eyes, the subtle, natural pout to your lips was tempting to kiss away, but Sehun held back. Instead, he gently reaches out and strokes your cheek, his thumb lightly trailing down to brush your lips instead, unable to resist the plushness.

“You should have kissed me.” You breathe, wishing more than anything you could somehow turn back time and change things.

“I guess so.” He sighs, his hand dropping from your face and back to his side. “I’m not the kind of man that easily opens up about the way that I feel.” He says, “You know that already.”

“I know.” You murmur sadly.

“What I tried to do, all along, was show you with my actions how I felt. Feel.” He says carefully, “How I…have felt and still feel…about you.”

You gulp, feeling stupid and small that this whole thing was playing out like this. It was your fault, you could see that now. You knew Sehun well enough, after all the time you spent together, that if you had really been paying attention, you would have noticed. Looking back on it now, it’s clear to you how oblivious you had been and how negligent you were of his feelings and the way he treated you.

“I can’t take it back,” You tell him regretfully. “I feel like the worst person in the world because I couldn’t see it, but I can’t change that. I’m sorry.”

For another long moment, you’re both silent, shyly and almost mournfully regarding one another. Neither of you knew what was coming next, but you were certain that Sehun could see your heart pounding in your veins, you were so nervous. Would your friendship be ruined by this? Could you return to normal somehow, or were you expected to find a new normal to adjust to? If so, what did that entail?

All these thoughts were swimming in your head, fueling your anxiety, making you want to cry all over again, but there was only one thought in Sehun’s head in that moment. He was staring directly at your lips, the way they turned down and looked especially full and pouty. He couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you, but he was holding back, afraid he would drive you away.

“You’re the best person I know, Y/N,” Sehun tells you gently, cupping your cheek softly, his heart bursting with warmth when you nuzzle into his touch slightly. “Maybe in the beginning, I was too afraid to make any real moves, I’ll admit it. After some time, I subconsciously was trying not to ruin our friendship. We both made the same mistake. You were too late to confess to Seokjin and I was too late to confess to you.”

“It’s not too late.” You tell him, your chest aching like your ribs were going to open up and offer him your beating heart. “You told me, I know now. It’s not too late.”

He starts to argue with you, but you cut him off, shaking your head, “It took us this long because maybe you were too afraid in the beginning and maybe I was too clueless this whole time, but it’s not too late if I know now. It can’t be...please don’t let it be too late, Sehun, I-I don’t think I could bear it.”

There’s a fire igniting in his belly, and Sehun sees the way you’re looking at his lips, and he doesn’t make the same mistake he made countless times in the span of your friendship - this time, he cups your cheek, his thumb brushes your bottom lip, drawing it down and pressing gently into the softness, and then he leans forward and presses his lips to yours. His kiss is gentle and hesitant, coupled with your trembling hands reaching for his shirt, clinging to the bottom hem desperately. Just the slightest pressure from his lips, no movement, no tongue, but he takes a breath in and it feels like he’s drawing it directly out of your lungs, and you shift forward just a little closer, trying to mold against him.

You part your lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss, but instead Sehun pulls away. He looks down at you with all the love and adoration in the universe shining out from his eyes before he moves back in, his eyes falling shut as he meets your mouth again. This time, he moves. Soft as silk and slow as he can stand. He smooths his lips repeatedly over yours before he finally deepens the kiss, pressing his tongue past your lips.

With his hands gently cradling your face, he tilts your head to the side a little, and you moan into his mouth as you taste the beer from your tongue and the passion on his lips. Your hands, now fisted and twisting the bottom of his shirt, were just about to trail down and feel the smooth skin of his stomach when Sehun pulls away from you again.

He chuckles because you groan in protest, but he still holds onto your shoulders to keep you steady and hold you an arms length away from him. He’s struggling already to catch his breath, but he’s looking at you intently, trying hard to focus.

“You’re drunk.” He states regretfully. “This isn’t the way I wanna do this, Y/N.”

“Sehunnie, I’ve barely had two drinks, and anyway, we’ve already wasted so much time.” You remind him, tugging lightly on his shirt and he gives in easily, letting you press up against his chest again, “Kiss me.”

He indulges you for a moment, pressing his lips firmly to yours in a chaste kiss before he looks down at you, his brow furrowed in concern. “I’m not trying to hook up with you tonight, Y/N. I don’t want that.” For a moment, your heart sinks, and as you stare up at him, nodding softly, you realize he wasn’t finished. His hand comes back to your cheek, cradling your face. “I want to be with you.” He said.

Your face is burning, and you couldn’t have hidden your 1,000-watt smile if you had wanted to, so instead you beam up at Sehun, someone you trusted, admired and you were certain now someone you had loved for a very long time. It was the sort of love that always existed between you, comfortable, never leaving you with questions or doubts. Your friendship had come naturally and, as you stand up on your tiptoes to take the lead and capture his lips, you felt a warmth spreading through your chest as you hoped that the next step of your relationship was starting right now.

Sehun doesn’t pull away from you this time. He lets you kiss him however you want, relishing in the feel of your silken lips and the insistence of your tongue exploring his mouth. You need to map him out, to memorize every detail of his mouth, now. This was someone you had known so intimately for so long, and yet these minute things, like the way his teeth feel bumping into yours or the very slight scruff on his chin rubbing into yours were new, and it filled you with excitement.

He hums into the kiss, the vibration against your lips makes you smile and your eyes flutter open briefly to see he’s looking back at you, and you burst into giggles.

“What?” He laughs, “Is this weird?”

“No! Not at all.” You insist, “It feels…good. It feels really good..”

The smile he gives you is brighter than the sun and warms you up from the inside out. He comes back to kiss you again and you smooth your hands up his chest, laying them flat, feeling his heart pounding under your right palm. It soothes you to know that his heart is racing just as fast as yours.

The distant, faded sounds of the party downstairs are drowned out, muffled by the sound of his heavy breathing as the kiss you share now grows into something more. His hands move from your waist to your back, pressing you more tightly against him than before, and he slips one hand under the hem of your shirt, feeling the warm skin of your lower back. It doesn’t take long before soft sounds were leaving your lips, swallowed up by Sehun’s hungry mouth. He wants to hear you whimper into him more and more, and he keeps pushing further, eventually moving one hand around and gingerly palming your breast through your shirt.

You gasp, arching your back and thrusting your breast into his hand, and in a desperate attempt to feel his skin, you began to claw at his shirt, pulling it upwards and panting against his mouth.

“Take this off.” You breathe raggedly against his lips.

Sehun untangles from you long enough to discard his shirt on the bathroom floor, desperate to press against you with less clothing on, walking you backward until he could lift you and sit you on the counter by the sink. Your legs wrap around his waist and you tug his hair to keep his mouth on yours, even as his hands push up your shirt and he holds you by the ribs, moaning against your tongue as you pulled at his hair lightly.

“Wanna touch you.” Sehun mumbles into the kiss, breaking away from your mouth to catch his breath and look down at you seriously for a second, “I promise I can make you feel good.”

“I know.” You pant, lifting your shirt over your head and tossing it to the side, “I want you to touch me, Sehunnie.”

You thought with nothing but your bra standing in his way, that Sehun would want to go for your tits but instead, he drops to his knees in front of you, so he was staring at the ridiculously skimpy skirt you had bought just for this evening. You felt exposed and just a little bit ridiculous as his hands bunch the material up around your waist, exposing the front of your panties. Blushing hard, you watch as Sehun licks his lips and his eyes flicker back up to meet yours. He was asking for permission with his eyes, gentle and caring. You nod your head, and he looks back down, his hands reaching for your thighs first, rubbing smoothly up and down your soft skin.

“You got all dressed up tonight.” He points out, causing you to blush deeper and hide your face in shame.

“Yeah, I did.” You say, gasping because Sehun chose that moment to run his fingers very delicately down the front of your panties, tracing your slit through the material.

“Did you wear these for him?” He asks you, but his voice is calm and curious. You falter, unsure what he wants you to say. When he looks back up at you, he smirks, “Yeah, of course, you did. You wouldn’t wear sexy panties and a matching bra like this unless you wanted somebody to see it.”

“That’s not true.” You murmur a half-developed argument, “Maybe I wanted to wear it for myself.”

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N. You’re a bad liar.”

You start to say something back, but all thought is wiped from your brain when Sehun pulls the material of your panties to the side and suddenly his fingers are grazing your bare flesh. You twitch, sensitive, and he’s looking at you so carefully that you almost want to hide, it feels so intimate.

“But he didn’t make you wet like this,” Sehun says, parting your lower lips and taking in the sight of your glistening sex. “Who made you this wet?”

“Y…you did.” You stutter, face burning white-hot with embarrassment.

“That’s right.” Sehun smiles up at you, tugging your panties even more firmly to the side, “I did.” and with that, he leans down plant a kiss at the cleft of your pussy, his eyes locked on yours.

You gasp, thighs jerking, and Sehun grips them firmly to keep them spread, and he kisses you again, and again until you aren’t so sensitive anymore. You watch him with your mouth agape, nearly drooling at the sight of his lips on you like this. Then he licks. Gently over your outer labia at first, but then he licks deeper, moaning against you when he tastes the slickness of your arousal pooling against his tongue.

Sehun’s mouth is hot and greedy, licking deep against your hole and flicking insistently against your clit, sucking and swallowing and groaning against you all the while. Your head is spinning and you can’t look away from him. His mouth was intoxicating against yours but to have him between your thighs like this was something far more addictive and something all together cosmic.

You’re already about to cum when he inserts the first finger into you. You buck your hips into his face and feel him smirk, and his eyes focus on yours again and you know that he knows. And then he stops.

You’re about to protest weakly, to accuse him of being a tease when he stands up and his hands move to the button and zipper of his jeans. It shuts you up in a hurry and you sit there, legs spread, cunt dripping, and watch with your mouth practically watering as he pulls out his thick, heavy cock. Sehun strokes himself a couple of times as he looks you over.

“God, Y/N, you’re so beautiful. Do you want me to fuck you?”

Nodding eagerly, you swallow past a lump in your throat, forcing yourself to make eye contact with him. “Yes, Sehunnie, please.”

“Scoot a little closer to the edge.” He tells you, gripping your thighs and tugging you slightly to aid in your movements. He steps between your thighs and then reaches into his pocket for a condom before he shoves his jeans off the rest of the way so they don’t inhibit his movement. You trace his abs lightly with curious fingers as he rolls the condom down the length of his erection, and he tells you in a low whisper, “I’ve wanted this for so long, Y/N.”

You feel compelled to tell him that you’re sorry yet again, but he kisses the words from your lips and without wasting any more time, pushes himself inside of you. Sehun groans with you when he’s inside, and he thrusts in deeper, bottoming out while you gasp and cling onto him. Your legs wrap around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, and Sehun kisses you slowly and keeps himself still, letting you adjust. You feel impossibly tight, clenching around his cock and trembling. When he does start moving, he pulls back from your mouth and looks down between you at where you’re joined. He’s already coated in your arousal, sticky and wet with each plunge back inside your depths, and even though he hasn’t had a single drink tonight, he feels drunk on the sight alone.

“Fuck.” He hisses, squeezing tightly your waist and drawing you further off of the counter. He’s practically holding your weight on his own now, only using the counter to balance himself, and he’s slamming into you deeply. “Fuck!”

Shaking and moaning uncontrollably, you’re on the edge of orgasm again and you begin to claw at Sehun’s back and shoulders, trying to keep him pressed tightly to you while your hips roll to gain friction on your clit. It’s only been a couple of minutes and Sehun can feel when you start to cum around him, your inner walls rhythmically squeezing and pulsing around his cock, and he feels victorious.

“Could he make you feel as good as I do?” He asks as you cry out at the peak of your pleasure. “Could he fuck you so good you cum for him in two minutes flat?” Sehun asks, his thumb finding your clit despite your orgasm beginning to slow, driving it right back up to another peak, “Look at you.” He says, voice thick with adoration and amazement, “You’re soaking my cock, you’re cumming all over me. Fuck, you’re so good.”

“Oh, my god, don’t stop..” You cry out, tears spilling down your face as one orgasm leads directly into another and your whole body is trembling under Sehun’s.

“I’m not gonna stop.” He grunts, fucking you through your orgasm and continuing on, pounding you rough and fast, “I want to be with you, Y/N,” He groans, “I want to fuck you like this all the time. Always.”

“Always.” You echo back automatically, head thrown back, eyes watering and vision blurry. “I love you, Sehunnie. Oh, god…I love you so much.”

Sehun meant to draw it out a little bit longer, he meant to see if he could make you cum a third time, but as the words left your lips in the throes of passion, his hips stuttered against you and his cock throbbed and released, spilling himself inside the condom. Your tryst had lasted all of ten minutes, and he maybe would have been disappointed if he had been with anybody else, but he was with you, and when he stilled and looked down at you, you were grinning up at him, satisfied, your makeup smeared and your hair a mess, and Sehun was happier than he could remember being in his life.

He’s apologetic as he helps you get off the bathroom counter. Shy as he hands you a wad of toilet paper and turns away to give you privacy to clean up while he removes the condom. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.”

“You weren’t too rough.” You assure him, “It felt amazing. I loved every second of it.”

He winces a little at your choice of words, “Shit. I’m sorry it was so quick…next time I’ll be more thorough and I’ll take my time. I mean, if you want there to be a next time. We don’t have to.”

You laugh, coming up behind him as he stuffs himself back in his jeans and closes the zipper. You hug him from the back, pressing a kiss between his shoulderblades, “It was perfect, Sehunnie. And of course, I want there to be a next time. I meant it when I said I love you, you know?”

“You don’t love me.” He chuckles, turning to face you. “All this time I’ve been in love with you, you never noticed.”

“I didn’t notice because I thought what we had was special and different than any other friendship. Regardless, of course, I love you. I love you for being supportive of me, for being there for me when I needed you, I love you for coming after me tonight to check on me, for caring about me, for being concerned for me, even though I hurt you. I love you for coming over to watch scary movies and eat junk food when we’re bored.” You laugh, and he smiles back at you. “I just didn’t realize what kind of love this was as I was feeling it. Not until now.”

“What kind is it?” He asks you curiously.

“Not the kind where you have a stupid crush and it makes your heart flutter and you end up crying in the bathroom at some party. My love for you is comfortable and easy, and I’ve never doubted it or second-guessed it because I always felt it so strongly. I’m sorry that I didn’t question it, though... I should have analyzed our feelings sooner. I should have paid closer attention. But I’m not sorry at the same time, because our bond is very strong and for that, I’m thankful. Thank you for sticking around, Sehun.”

His chest is swelling with pride and affection as he looks down at you. There’s a lot more he wants to say and a lot more he wants to ask, but for now, he feels at peace. Sehun presses a kiss to your forehead and slips his arm around your shoulders, and he leads you out of the bathroom.

As you walk together down the short hallway to the stairs, he mutters under his breath against your ear, “Let’s literally never tell Seokjin that we hooked up in his guest bathroom.”

#oh sehun #exo #sehun smut #sehun oneshot #mine #LISTEN....editing is rly hard for me so pls forgive any mistakes #i read through this so many times and tried to fix any errors I saw #maybe i need a beta reader or editor sdlfkjosie nah i'm too nervous #i'll just continue posting things until I Get Good #i'm happy with the practice i've had the last few weeks and the progress i've made already #this is my favorite oneshot so far

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