#never split au my beloved

[blue-eli]

Masters Elrena, Lauriam, and Ventus from my never spilt au!! I’ve been calling them the Dandelion trio and they are Friends :)!

The Never Split AU is an au where Ventus escaped Xehanort’s attempt to split his heart, and Elrena and Lauriam avoid being nobodies! They are keyblade masters and good good friends

More info about each of them under the cut

I imagine that Ephemer basically named the dandelions (or just the union leaders + Elrena) as Keyblade masters in scala ad caelum law.

Master Elrena:

-still an absolute asshole (affectionately) like,,, the Mean Lesbian.

-25 years old. 12 in KHUx. Very insistent that Ventus is still younger then her.

-not good with kids, or people in general. Tends to play the bad cop to Ventus or Lauriam’s good cop.

-Has taken Aqua under her wing, she is a Bad Influence but honestly I think that’s what Aqua needs.

-she will bring back treats from different worlds for the others, you know she likes you when she comes back from a mission and just yeets a chocolate bar at you.

Master Lauriam:

-THE big brother, to everyone (but especially Ventus)

-29 years old. 14 in KHUx. Old.

-still looking for his sister, a bit more causal due to learning from past mistakes and also it’s been years a while more hopefully won’t hurt.

-not necessarily overprotective, he knows Ventus is very powerful, but will worry about him a lot,,, he lost him once he doesn’t want to again.

-fancy man, very respectable, most likely to get along with authority (he is a mess, he is a disaster, do not be fooled-)

Master Ventus:

-MAIN CHARACTER he is the connecting thread he is whole he is one of the Seven Lights AND Thirteen Darknesses at the same time I love him

-27 years old. 10 in KHUx. Went from baby baby to old baby. He is short and people keep thinking he twelve. He is only taller then Sora.

-has problems with authority, will either treat them as an equal (King Micky, most of the princesses) or be very open about his dislike of them (Yen Sid, Ansem, Eraqus).

-can summon unversed! Generally used them to help with large battles, as something to keep company/keep safe his loved ones (mainly Sora), or to vent feelings.

-only trained with Eraqus for two weeks, left after Eraqus flipped out after finding him with an unversed. Still visited to spend time with Aqua+Terra and use the library (Eraqus let’s him because he isn’t actively antagonistic, he figures Aqua and Terra will be good influences, he’d feel like a hypocrite considering he still is friendly with Xehanort. In return Ventus doesn’t summon unversed while visiting) this leads to a very odd Wayfinders Trio dynamic

[chrollohearttags]

do you better, make it worse • j. kirschtein

watching his best friend mistreat you never sat right with Jean but luckily, he had plans to get your mind off of him once and for all.

content warning and themes: hospital AU, mentions of infidelity, EMT Jean, patient liaison reader, car sex, panty stuffing, hair pulling, choking, fingering, reverse cowgirl, daddy’s used a few times, calls reader slut (not in a derogatory way), squirting, full nelson, creampie

📝: in lieu of me bringing back one of my favorite stories, I’ve decided to once again put the cart before the horse (don’t say it) and revisit one of the dynamics in it. Besides, I’m on a heavy Jean kick lately so here we are.

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he couldn’t stand it….

honestly, he hated it. Hated the way you were treated, hated that you were being misled and hated that someone he called, not only his friend but thought of as a brother, was so casual and callus in hurting such a beautiful woman. Someone who made it her life’s mission to care and look out for others..advocate on their behalf and ensure that they were being cared for. Which was ironic at its finest degree, considering that for the three years (y/n) (l/n) dated Connie Springer; former high school basketball star turned paramedic, no one bothered to clue you in on the fact that he was being unfaithful. He was your very first love and granted, when you two graduated, the relationship seemed to grow. But as was his outside roster as well. While you were holding him down, helping him study and keeping him straight..all while doing your own thing, he was out doing you wrong. Laying up with this girl, texting that girl and having the nerve to come back to you as if everything were just fine. And being completely oblivious to his antics, you would’ve gone on with your business and not thought a thing of it..that all but changed when his best friend Jean came to you one day with a shocking confession and told you that your beloved boyfriend had been sleeping with other women. “This isn’t gonna be easy, (y/n). I’m sorry I kept this from you but I thought you should know.” Not only that, he had solid proof. Pictures, texts and everything…it was a devastating blow and you were riddled with all types of emotions. Anger, sadness, denial..this man had hurt you beyond comprehension and once you found out and confronted him, you let Connie know exactly how you felt. Then, you ended things. As hard as it was, you felt relief in knowing that you were no longer being made a fucking fool of. He was free to do as he pleased..it was no longer your problem.

even so, you were faced with another issue: loneliness. You stood firm in your boundaries and didn’t let Connie back in. Regardless of the fact that you two were now working for the same hospital and you’d see him often while walking the halls of the emergency room. Tending to patient’s non medical needs and getting feedback. In the time since you two split, you had grown prettier by the day; that beautiful dark skin glowing, curly hair getting thicker and so was that gorgeous body. Hitting the gym and gaining happy weight. Still, despite that. You longed for companionship. You wanted your person again and to be loved unconditionally. You wanted someone to take care of you…emotionally, spiritually and especially..physically. As terrible as it sounded, you needed someone to satisfy those carnal desires as well. Someone who would take that stress of a long day away and clear your head.

luckily, you had just the man for the job and in the form of a very familiar face. Someone who had all but saved you from further heartbreak and embarrassment. And now, he was going to help you once more…

“Did you miss me, baby? I missed you..”

“Yes..been thinking about you all day..”

while your ex pleaded and groveled for a second chance, you were sitting pretty in the backseat and lap of his best friend’s car..getting that wet little pussy stuffed full of his fingers! Those thick digits planted inside of your warmth as his tongue swirled the inside of your mouth..the two of you exchanging sloppy tongue kisses and saliva along the way. Another hand..one riddled with tattoos up to the forearm gently clutched your throat as to keep your eyes on him. Of course, you wouldn’t dare look elsewhere. Not when this fine ass man was treating you so well. Some would say that what you guys were doing was wrong or that he broke code between boys but he should’ve considered that while he was out with other women. Now, Jean was filling that void in more ways than one. For the past couple months, the two of you had been hooking up just like this and needless to say, once you got a taste of him, Connie was all but a mere afterthought..

instead, you couldn’t wait to get your fix of the man making out with you. Slowly, he’d work those fingers in and out of that tight little cunt..placing a trail of kisses along your earlobe and jawline, all while filling your head with sweet words. Telling you how pretty you looked and that you were gonna feel so good. That deep voice drops to a low whisper; causing you to clench around his knuckles. Hearing those sweet affirmations from a man who meant it was driving you crazy. “J-jean…baby. I—“ “it’s okay..I got you. Just keep riding those fingers, my love. Keep going, just like that.” All the while, he had snatched your top down to reveal those perky breasts of yours. Always sitting so pretty underneath your work uniform. It was many times when he thought about what you’d look like underneath and now, he was getting the chance. Even at his buddy’s expense!

“So fucking sexy…swear I couldn’t get you off of my mind. Thinking about holding you…kissing on this neck.” Just then, he’d tighten his grip on your throat and grunt in your ear; grinding that covered erect against your ass. “Filling you up. I just wanna make you feel good, baby. Hell of a lot better than he can...” Doting on you as he curled and pumped those digits around inside of you. He was like a feign, an addict for your love and sex. Jean would do whatever it took to ensure that you got off. Just by your moans alone, he knew you were close. He could sense it..that’s what it meant to awareness of your partner’s body. Something that Connie failed to grasp even after all that time of being together. He had done in three months what he couldn’t in three years. It was insane. However, as much as he desired to get you off, he had to get some action of his own! You could feel him growing larger by the second..practically swelling to be let out. Alas, he knew how much more well endowed he was in comparison to others you’d been with so he had to be gentle. Handle you with care as to not hurt you…but give you the pleasure you deserve. So with a swift motion, he’d unbuckle those black uniform cargos and shuffle them down his hips so that he had enough room to maneuver. Unsheathing that thick cock, he’d slap it against your half clothed, plump pussy lips; drumming up smacking noises as he had a finger hooked around your thong to keep them to the side. Your tits were exposed as well..the top part of your dress tugged down and bundled up around your tummy. He couldn’t wait to get a taste.

“Go ahead, pretty girl. Put it in for me..” instructing as he grasped your waist and allowed you to raise yourself up. Those heels that he loved so much digging gently into his seat and aiding you in eventually riding him. As (y/n) lowered yourself back down, both of you released loud, breathy moans. The sensation of your juicy warmth and the fullness provided by his thick girth..stretching you out only seconds in. “Fuck..so fucking good..” clutching the side of the door and the driver headrest to balance yourself as you bounced up and down. Jean knew you were more than capable of handling it so he’d toss his head back and encourage you with all of those filthy words you loved. “There you go. Up and down, just like that. You’re opening up for me so nice..that dick feel good, babygirl?” Questioning in a sweet cooing tone, which had you melting within seconds. The way this man so lovingly cared for your body, you couldn’t help but to submit.

“It’s so good, daddy…never had dick like this. Oh my fucking—ahh!”

drawing out in whiny huffs and soft whimpers along with wetness, that was dripping all down his shaft. Eventually, the vehicle would begin to gently sway in that parking garage from the force of your moving bodies. Clawing into that leather upholstery, (y/n) continued to bog yourself down, taking those deep thrusts to the brunt. “I know..I know it’s a lot, baby. But you’re taking that shit so good..got you creaming. This is my pussy now. Isn’t that right? All mine?” Earning him a very swift ‘yes’ as you trembled and took him to the hilt. Only after he grasped your throat because you were too stuck to even form words. His fingertips tracing soft circles around your clit and those balls slapping against your opening. “That’s what I love to hear, pretty girl. Just keep fucking me…keep—shit!” Drumming out more of those breathy cries from your new boyfriend and deeper thrusts as he began fucking up into you. All but taking the reins and control as the feeling intensified. Eventually, he couldn’t hold still and although he thought that you were doing an amazing job, he needed to really get in it. Clutching the backs of your thick thighs, Jean would proceed to fold your legs up and bring your knees nearly up to his shoulder blades. It was such an insane position but one that felt nearly euphoric. Whilst he made certain each stroke made home inside of your sensitive core, you’d take the thin strings of those panties between your teeth and bite down. Sort of a makeshift gag for your loud cries as he began to pound upward into you. He was coming unglued, like a man unhinged and on a mission. He wanted you to feel every last inch of him. How much he craved you..how much he loved you and this beautiful body. He’d never be so foolish as to squander such a precious thing. Even if he was beating your pussy sore like you were a mere object. “..my little slut..letting me fuck you like this. I’m so thankful, baby. You're gonna come f’r me, right? Come all over this dick? Right here in this fucking car? You couldn’t even wait until I got you to my place. That’s how addicted I got you..” and there was no denying it! When you slung pipe like him, you had every right to brag on it. Regardless, he himself was desperate to release so he’d do whatever it took to coax you to your orgasm so he could reach his. He never allowed himself to come first because he wanted you to get off. Bringing a hand back to that swollen bud, Jean massaged it until you emitted muffled, distorted cries with that cloth tucked between your teeth. Your eyes flush and drip with slight tears from how full he had stuffed you. In a matter of minutes, porcelain colored cream had covered the entirety of his shaft and base, signaling that you were on the brink of reaching your peak. Calling out to him, Jean was quick to turn your head and quell those whispers with gentle kisses and soft caressing to the cheek. “It’s okay..hey, breathe with me, baby. Remember what I told you..” by now, he had hooked your legs into one arm and continued bucking his hips upward. You were both beginning to tap out..reach that final stride and it was only seconds after he patted your slit with gentle slaps did you begin to throb and he knew he couldn’t get another one in before you all but pushed him out so reluctantly, Jean would halt his movements.

“Go ahead, pretty girl. Squirt on this dick..we’ll worry about the seats later. Fuck it.” Smirking as he watched your eye stretch and mouth gape as that slippery orgasm came barreling out of you; soaking everything within your vicinity. He was so satisfied in himself for completely wrecking you. Getting that body so hooked on him, you wouldn’t look back or around for another man ever again. Not even giving you ample time to recuperate, he’d penetrate that tightness once more, so that he could give you what you had been begging him for all week:

“Come in me..come in this fucking pussy, daddy..” Talking him through it as well with gritted teeth and tears rolling down your face. “Want me to nut in it, baby? Veins began to bulge from atop his forehead and Jean was breathing so heavily, eventually letting out a loud cry before spilling every last drop of that seed into your womb. Not stopping for an entire minute and remaining stuck between those walls many moments after. He wanted to enjoy you…be one for as long as possible. Tugging you back against his heaving chest, Jean snaked his tongue between your lips and fed you sloppy pecks before the two of you erupted into a soft chuckle against each other’s mouth. “I love you, Jean. I love you so much..” so proudly declaring as you ran your fingertips along his stubble ridden face. And there was no doubt in your mind that he felt the same. After all, it was him who showed you what that four letter word meant again after facing such heartbreak. But as long as you’d allow him to remain in your life…to care for you with all he had…

“I love you more, pretty girl. Don’t ever forget it.”

he’d make you the happiest woman alive. Even if it meant hurting his best friend to do so! Just then, your love fest was interrupted by a faint buzzing on the heated seats. That’s when you’d both look down to see your phone illuminating with a very familiar contact:

Connie: I miss you (y/n)..please call me. I’m sorry.

but needless to say, he wouldn’t be getting a reply any time soon.

[kabra-malvada]

Lurking

The only audible noise you're able to catch is the loud thumping of your own heart against your chest, traveling all the way up to your eardrums. You don't move an inch as the apparition in front of you starts to emerge from the wooden floor, slowly and quietly taking shape in the depts of the darkness that plagues the room.

Two pale blue tinted eyes stare right at you as the entity continues to slither into a discernable contorted shape, it feels as if they've been staring at you even before it started to appear in front of you. The simple thought of it makes you shudder but you are unable to move a muscle, what should you do? what can you do? If you were to use your proton gun to try to catch it in such an enclosed space you could cause the whole room to colapse and not even catch it. If you tried to run and try to attract it nothing ensures it would follow you.

Maybe... Maybe you could... talk to it?

The entity's newly formed arm starts to snake it's way to your direction, you have to think fast on something to say. It's now or never. You swallow a bit and prepare to blurt out something but before you can articulate a single syllable...

A pair of hands take a hold of your feet an pull you hard into the dark room, the old wooden floor creaks as you're being dragged into the dark room your proton gun hits the floor in just a split second slipping away from your grasp.

In just a quick instant you're inches away from those bright deep eyes, you're so focused on the sudden movements of the entity that you're completely taken by surprise by the sound of the door slamming behind you. it closes so harshly that for a moment you thought it would fall off it's hinges giving you of a brief moment the hope of running off to get your gun back.

The thought of your freedom is quickly taken away from you as you can feel the floor where you're being held down to start to bend and sink into itself as if the hard wood was just turned into quicksand.

Instinctively you try to move, to thrash around to free yourself but you find yourself unable to even blink. Is this some sort of ghost hypnosis?! Paralysis?! Hell if you know or care you just NEED TO GET OUT RIGHT NOW. And just as you were about to let out the loudest blood curling scream...

"Hello".

A low lazy voice echoes inside of your head as your panic is drown out by confusion, as if a switch was flipped your heart beat starts to slow down bit my bit as you start to pass out.

This was so much fun to draw and write! ghost stuff is so cool, that's just a fact. Ghostbusters AU belongs to my beloved @madame-mongoose God her ideas are so awesome and inspiring, y'all should check out her AUs and content in general, she is so very talented and sweet, I love her so much 😍💖

*clears throat*

Go check her blog frfr :3c

[jisungsdaydreamer]

Anti-Romantic | CHAPTER THREE | 18+

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»

DRUNK IN LOVE

“I haven’t been the same since we met.”

«PREVIOUS CHAPTER» · «SERIES MASTERLIST»

Pairing: Hyunjin x Fem!Reader Genre: Non idol au, fluff, smut, romcom, drama, opposites attract Chapter Warnings: explicit sexual content, switch!Hyunjin, switch!reader, mentions of emotionally abusive ex, mutual fantasizing, sexual fantasy sequence (dom!reader, sub!Hyunjin), cumeating/cumplay, masturbation (f), heavy insecurity and self deprecation, oral (f receiving), rough sex, degradation, titfucking, pussy slapping, edging/orgasm denial, creampie, unprotected sex, misuse of alcohol (reader is a very sad drunk), both of them are actual idiots that will make you want to to scream ⚠️not beta-read yet, but will be updated with the edits soon⚠️ Word Count: 20.5k

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

The first thing Hyunjin understands when he comes to is how disgusting his mouth tastes. The faint, bitter taste of alcohol lingering on his tongue brings the memory of the night prior’s bad decisions; he’s never gone a single day in his life without brushing his teeth at night, in addition to the rest of his extensive pre-bedtime routine. The lack of moisture that pulls at his skin like a scratchy draft has him reaching for his nightstand, from where he’s burrowed in blankets like a corn dog. For a few embarrassing minutes, Hyunjin puts up a valiant effort trying to locate his special night repair face lotion solely with his flailing palm, before he’s rudely interrupted.

“Wake the fuck up, Sleeping Beauty.” 

The strangely familiar, feminine yet husky voice brings him hurtling back into reality. Cautiously, Hyunjin retracts his arm and opens his eyes; the blinding light that meets them does not help his splitting headache that rivals the shaking faultlines of San Andreas. 

When he finally adjusts to the brightness, he realizes that he’s in a room that’s definitely not his. The vast SolarSmart windows that would have already dimmed to match his sleepy blinking have been replaced by an antique bay window. Instead of the aristocratic fragrance of his favorite Le Labo candle, the air is thick with the smell of maple syrup. And his beloved Egyptian cotton sheets are gone in favor of a sherpa set that has him sweating in the year-round heat, which isn’t helped by the fact that this place isn’t humidity controlled.

“I’ve always thought of myself as more of a Rapunzel,” Hyunjin groans, stretching and tilting his head up to meet Lisa’s eyes. “You know, great hair and all.”

“Ha ha.” Lisa rolls her eyes, trying to maintain her expression of annoyance, but Hyunjin catches the hint of a smile on her lips; it’s inevitable, trying to fight the effect of his charms, especially when he’s just woken up all adorable and rumpled by sleep. “It’s almost noon, I thought I’d wake you up.”

“Noon?!” Hyunjin flies into a sitting position, frozen in an unfamiliar panic and unable to think of what to do next. By this time in his usual daily routine, he would have been enjoying a light lunch in his office while journaling in his gratitude notebook. Fuck, his stomach calls out for a nice balsamic arugula salad, maybe with a freshly-squeezed orange juice on the side to help with the regrettable effects of alcohol.

Lisa coughs lightly, bending down to pick up a discarded collection of clothing strewn on the floor, before handing it over to Hyunjin. The nausea rises up in Hyunjin’s stomach as he sifts through the clothes that he recognizes as his own. And then, as if in sudden remembrance, he looks down at himself and realizes that he’s completely naked except for his Gucci boxers. Horrified, he looks over at Lisa, but before he can say anything, she cuts him off.

“No. We didn’t have sex.” Lisa avoids Hyunjin’s eyes, picking at one of her burgundy-painted nails. She seems strangely skittish, in stark comparison to her confident, nearly feline-like mannerisms last night.

“Then what happened last night?” Hyunjin slips on his shirt and slides out of bed to pull his pants on, resolving to get dressed already right there; at this point, there is no more mortifying himself.

Lisa shrugs, an embarrassed blush overtaking her features. “We did some shots at the bar, before I suggested you come over for better drinks, so we could, well, you know. Hook-up. But you really did drink more. A lot more. And just as you took off your clothes, you blacked-out.”

“Blacked-out?” Hyunjin’s whole body feels racked with disbelief. And yet, the memories come fading back in: the botched matchmaking event, him retreating to drink away his sorrows, the handsy taxi ride back to Lisa’s place. “I barely even get tipsy.”

“It seemed like there was a lot on your mind last night. I don’t know what to say to you right now.” Lisa scratches her wrist lightly, as if trying to occupy herself while waiting for Hyunjin to get the hell out of her home. But the movement draws Hyunjin’s attention to her hand, where a fat, glimmering diamond rests on her ring finger, one that wasn’t there the previous night.

Realization flows in, ghastly and unwarranted. He clears his throat, tossing his jacket over his shoulders. “And you’re fucking married.”

Lisa freezes, the blood completely draining out of her face as her lips go paper thin. “I can explain.”

Hyunjin tilts his head with fresh resolve, taking his phone and wallet from where they’re fortunately perched on top of the nightstand. “Nope. I’m getting out of here. Looks like you’ve got some personal things going—” 

“Hyunjin, I’m not married. Please, just—” Lisa quickly crosses in front of him, blocking the doorway, looking at him with pleading eyes. “I’m engaged.”

“Big difference that makes,” Hyunjin mutters, crossing his arms. Nevertheless, he waits for her to speak, softening when he catches the glimpse of pain flash in her eyes.

“My fiancé. He’s… I- I know he’s not working late all those nights, like he says he is.” Lisa exhales shakily, closing her eyes. “I know who you are. The Love Doctor. Initially, I thought I would talk to Hoseok, maybe book us an appointment with you. But then I saw you at the bar, and I don’t know, it felt like a sign.”

“And you wanted to make him hurt like he hurt you,” Hyunjin finishes for her. He’d had clients like Lisa, the vengeful wives looking to bite back at the ones who wronged them— he just never imagined that he would have almost been a part of such a plot. 

She nods guiltily. “And I also just wanted to forget everything, even if it was going to be temporary. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, so when you fell asleep, I was kind of relieved.”

Hyunjin snorts and snaps back with no real malice in his words, just a hint of mirth. “Glad me blacking out worked well for you.”

Lisa shoots him a tiny, sheepish grin. “To be fair, I don’t think you really wanted to go through with it. When you were drunk, you kept repeating the same name over and over again.”

He stills at her response, remembering no such event. But of course it makes sense; there’s a certain someone lingering in his thoughts 24/7, and she has no plan of leaving him anytime soon. “I guess.”

If she notices the immediate color in Hyunjin’s cheeks, Lisa says nothing. She just shuffles to the side, letting Hyunjin exit the bedroom before leading him to the main entrance of her apartment. “Again, I’m sorry about everything, Hyunjin. I shouldn’t have tried to use you like that. I really am sorry.”

Hyunjin accepts her apology, a strange mix of sympathy and understanding unfurling in his stomach. After all, he tried doing the same thing, to find someone else to warm his bed and take his mind off of the one person he really wanted. It was a bad night for both of them. “You’re still welcome to find me anytime.”

“Thanks a lot.” Lisa gives him a smile, before it fades into something more playful, one that fits her better than any expression he’s seen on her so far. “If I’m being honest, though, you're not really my type.”

“You know exactly what I mean. Call my secretary and book an appointment if you ever want one. With or without your fiancé.” Hyunjin scoffs, glaring at Lisa over his shoulder as he walks away. “And I’m everyone’s type.”

When his Uber finally pulls up in front of Oasis, Hyunjin hurries up to his penthouse and tries to make the most out of the rest of the cruelly shortened day— after a quick shower to wash off the stench of alcohol and pine air freshener.

Hunched over a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch at his kitchen island, Hyunjin swipes through all of the pop-ups on his laptop, going through everything that he’s missed in the time during which he’d dissociated from all common sense. Everyday, Wonyoung makes sure Hyunjin stays up-to-date on all of his engagements by adding all of his event invitations to his Google calendar; Hyunjin spends a good few minutes clicking through everything, accepting all of his upcoming meetings. He’s been slacking off at work lately, skipping team lunches and sitting out on evening debriefs— but that’s all about to change, because Hyunjin needs to get his life back together again. And that includes making things right with you. 

“Want to pull up for a quick afternoon appointment?” Hyunjin mouths out loud. He then makes a face and deletes the letter, groaning out loud. “This isn’t a high school date…”

After a few more failed attempts at trying to write a breezy but appropriate check-in email to you, Hyunjin resolves to call his no-nonsense secretary, knowing that the Velma to his Daphne would help him rediscover his suavity again. Maybe she could even catch him up on today’s SeoulSpark gossip that he’d missed, if they had time. But he underestimates her temper when she finally picks up after the fourth ring:

“Where the fuck were you?” Wonyoung screeches into the phone, making Hyunjin wince and pull his iPhone away from his ear. “Do you know how worried sick I was? How many times have I called you? You didn’t even show up to the brunch you had with the Carters! I had to practically beg Beyoncé not to drop us, only after promising her and Jay-Z five free sessions! I hope you’re ready to deal with the company's losses!”

“I’m sorry, I know, I know.” Hyunjin whines. “I know I’ve been really sidetracked, but I promise I’m making things right.”

“You’d better, Hyunjin.” Wonyoung bites, before taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. “I want you over at SeoulSpark on Monday at 6 AM, sharp. We will be going over each and every single client, and then making a game plan for the next five months. You have a meeting with Dr. Jeon, and then Mr. Jung. And Ms. Y/L/N requested an appointment last night, and you can most certainly afford it right now, so you’ll also be meeting with her. Respectfully, I suggest you get your ass over here as soon as possible.”

“Yes, yes— wait.” Hyunjin perks up, dropping his spoon into the soggy bowl of cereal, not minding the tiny droplets of milk that splash up at him. “Did you say Y/N?”

“What’s the matter?”

He shakes his head, dumping the remnants of his meal into the sink. “Nothing. I’ll see you!”

The slow drag of the days until the next week turns into a blur on Monday morning. Hyunjin pulls on a crisp white Celine t-shirt to go with a flowy pair of pleated trousers from the back of his closet, the kind of casual, chic outfit tailored that can always uplift any day. As a final touch, Hyunjin shrugs on a simple yet effective cardigan and dabs some cologne onto his wrists. 

During the drive over to SeoulSpark, Hyunjin reflects on the fact that he’d be seeing you in just a few hours, even though he just saw you a few days ago. When you could barely look Hyunjin in the eye after his colossal blunder. When you’d run away to be far, far away from him, somewhere he couldn’t hurt you again. But he wouldn’t let that happen again, ever. You’re far too precious, and he doesn’t plan on losing you anytime soon, even if you’ll never know what you truly mean to him.

He sighs, parking Cami in her specially reserved spot in the SeoulSpark garage, before taking off his shades and heading inside. As soon as he steps through the sliding glass doors, he can barely muster up a ‘hello’ to his receptionist, Felix, before Wonyoung pounces on him. In the blink of an eye, Wonyoung has dragged him up to his office, where she sits him down at his desk and begins to ferociously rattle off his to-do list for the day.

Luckily, he’s saved by Dr. Jeon, who raps on the open door with a wry smile on his face. “Can I come in, Wonyoung, or are you still busy disciplining Hyunjin?”

Wonyoung huffs at him, before picking up her tablet and making her way out. “He’s all yours. Make it snappy, though. He has a full schedule.”

“Yes, Ms. Jang.” Dr. Jeon says with mock seriousness that makes Wonyoung shoot him a murderous glare, before making himself comfortable on the sofa and turning to Hyunjin. “Damn, where’d you buy this thing? I could take a fat nap here.”

“West Elm.” Hyunjin is unable to keep the smile off of his face. “What’s up, Jungkook?”

“Well, this is kind of an awkward question, if you don’t mind…” Jungkook shoots him a hopeful look, and Hyunjin gives him a nod to continue. “I was just wondering about the company policy about dating clients? It isn’t clear whether we’re allowed to or not, but I know it’s a little iffy.”

Hyunjin sits up in surprise, mind immediately going to you. The SeoulSpark guidelines on dating clients were never explicit to begin with, but it was kind of unsaid that dating clients is out of the question, especially when it could jeopardize business. Of course he’d thought about this before, on the nights when he had been feeling extra delusional over the thought of having you all to himself. But it could never be real.

“What’s this all about, Jungkook?” Hyunjin shifts in his seat warily. “We generally advise against it, even after clients decide to end their memberships. It’s messy territory, one that we try to avoid.”

Jungkook clears his throat. “I mean, she’s not even my client. I think she’s one of yours, actually. She caught my eye at the matchmaking event yesterday— she was wearing this sexy blue sundress. Y/N was her name, I think? I thought, I don't know, that I could maybe ask her out or something? If she didn’t have any matches?”

Oh, hell no.

Hyunjin’s blood immediately goes cold. He likes Jungkook— a lot, actually. He’s a good colleague and friend, and a great drinking buddy when he feels up to it. Jungkook has tagged along with him and Seungmin quite often, whenever they decide to go out to find someone to warm their beds for the night. The topic of women has never been foreign between them, especially in a setting like SeoulSpark. But his woman? Absolutely not. 

Even if you aren’t actually his, Hyunjin would rather break Jungkook’s annoyingly perfect nose than see his hands all over you, and that’s saying something, because Hyunjin hates killing even mosquitos. Jungkook watching you laugh over a plate of pasta. Jungkook helping you into his car. Jungkook kissing you while he brings heaven to you in his bed. All of the things that Hyunjin should get to do.

Technically, it wouldn’t be the end of the world for SeoulSpark if Jungkook dated you, especially since you aren’t his client— but it would be for Hyunjin. Hell if Jeon Jungkook, the notorious player of SeoulSpark, would have you in his stead.

“No.”

Jungkook frowns. “But—”

“I said no, Dr. Jeon. Don’t make me repeat myself,” Hyunjin snaps coldly, barely fazed by that uncharacteristic iciness in his own tone. “Please see yourself out, and come to me when you have something actually useful to discuss.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, running his hands through his hair. “You seem to be in a mood today, Hyunjin. But whatever, I’ll back off. See you later, I guess.”

Hyunjin knows he should feel bad as he watches Jungkook shrink out his view, but all he has is a vicious sense of satisfaction. That’ll teach him— Christ, is he jealous? Hwang Hyunjin doesn’t get jealous. The world is an oyster, and you, his shimmering pearl. He really is so screwed.

The next few hours are a blur, as Hyunjin does his best to be attentive as he sits through meetings with his executive team, including the one with his Chief Marketing Officer, Jung Hoseok, to discuss potential brand partnerships that would be good for SeoulSpark. He deserves an award for not falling asleep during the very essential Zoom call to confirm whether he should allow his face to be stamped onto a cat food brand (the answer was no, he’s forever a dog person).

By the time the sun has dipped below the horizon, Hyunjin has finished meeting with his second-to-last client of the day, Yang Jeongin, that brazen college student who had talked back to him during his TED talk. Poor guy had been through so much, really, with a history of being dumped, the latest offender being a cheating girlfriend who had effectively ruined his outlook on life. But over the past few months, Hyunjin had been able to chip through that broken exterior to find a brilliant young man in need of just a push in the right direction. He reminds Hyunjin of you so much.

“Thanks, Hyun. I’ll see you next week.” Jeongin waves goodbye at Hyunjin, who’s already rifling through his desk drawer for his compact mirror and breath mints.

Hyunjin flashes him a quick smile. “You too, Jeongin.”

As quick as Jeongin has left, the feeling of being alone washes away when you step into the room, knocking the wind out of Hyunjin’s lungs, as always. Today, you’ve foregone those usual pinks, a constant that Hyunjin had loved so much about your outfits. Nevertheless, you’re stunning; the sea-green floral maxi dress floats delicately around your ankles, and Hyunjin has to mentally kick himself to stop staring at the dainty line of buttons crossed along the ruched bust of the bodice.

“There you are!” Hyunjin beams like the sun, the stress of the day’s burdens melting away.

But instead of getting all cute and flustered at his theatrics like you always do, you give him a thin smile and sit down on the couch. “Hey, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin tries not to let the concern flood into his logic, but it’s impossible, when it comes to you. However, he makes a valiant effort in crossing his legs and trying to hide the turbulence of emotions beneath his skin by plastering a placid expression onto his face. “So… want to talk about last week?”

“There’s not much to talk about.” You shrug and avoid Hyunjin’s gaze, looking out the window with a forlorn glint in your eyes. 

“Darling, please.” Hyunjin breaks. He gets up from behind his desk and folds himself into the space next to you, failing to maintain his impartiality. He hates to see you like this, like you so steadfastly believe that you’re alone, when he’s been here for you the entire time. “Open up to me.”

You look directly into Hyunjin’s eyes, prompting a shiver to run down his spine. He wishes you could look at him like that while forcing him down onto his knees. “I had sex with Han Jisung.” 

Of everything, hearing that was not on Hyunjin’s 2023 bingo card. For a moment, he just gapes at you in shock. As your dating coach, he never thought you’d be ready to become intimate with someone so soon, especially the guy who made you run off in horror just a few days prior. And as the person who is secretly in love with you, he could never actually imagine you with anyone except for him. Yet, he now has the wonderful, vivid image of you and Han Jisung getting it on. How nice. 

And then comes the complete fury. But before he can act upon it, throwing aside his zen policy to bestow you with an aggressive line of questioning— that he is absolutely not entitled to, at all— you hold up your hand, shutting him up.

“And I think we should stop seeing each other.”

In that moment, nothing but utter horror slashes through every fiber of Hyunjin’s being. Of all of the scenarios he’d gone through in his mind, the worst case is actually happening— goddamnit, universe. What would the point of life be if you weren’t in his, anymore? “Are you… are you breaking up with me?”

You give Hyunjin a pitiful smile that makes him want to go crawl into a hole somewhere and die. “That’s one way to put it, I guess. But I’m your client. This is a good sign.”

That’s not all you are. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This can’t be real. 

“You know what I mean!”

“Shouldn’t you be happy for me?” You purse your lips. “I guess I’ve finally moved on from Jisung, now that I’ve slept with someone else. I can finally go forth in the world without his shadow holding me back. I’m completely over it.”

Hyunjin closes his eyes, lightly massaging his temples using the stress-prevention technique that his old masseuse taught him before she moved back to Thailand. It doesn’t work. Fuck, is he sweating? “Well, I think you’re not completely over it. This is a step, not the destination. Having sex with a guy you just met is definitely not what we programmed into your love life GPS— we’re still driving! Besides, you still have a month of sessions left on your contract!”

“Uhhh, okay.” You give Hyunjin a puzzled look that makes him cringe inwardly— fuck his fruity metaphors. “Either way, I just don’t think I need your help anymore, to be honest. But I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“No.” Hyunjin shakes his head stubbornly, resolve set deep inside of him. If you wanted him to get all technical and make himself sound like a pretentious prick, then fine. Anything to keep you from leaving. “As the person who you have entrusted to provide you with a professional opinion, I do not accept your rationale for ending our contract. It’s sudden, and you’d just be wasting your own money because everything was prepaid. It doesn’t make sense for you to go like this, don’t you think? Talk to me.”

And Hyunjin sees you pause, the doubt written across your gorgeous features. You put on a little eyeliner today, and when your eyes crinkle in doubt, the winged ends of the liner downturn, making you look impossibly cute. Hyunjin wants nothing more than to kiss that pout on your lips— not smooth it away, but make it his, somehow, to watch you look down at him with that same expression when he’s on his knees for you.

He waits with bated breath, until you finally throw your hands up, relenting. “Okay. Alright. But only because I have a month left. After that, I won’t be renewing the contract.”

You grumpily sit back down on the sofa, and Hyunjin has to clench his jaw to keep from grinning like an idiot. “So, tell me. What’s gotten you so worked up?”

You sigh, looking away from Hyunjin as you toy with one of the beads on the skirt of your dress. You take your time thinking, and Hyunjin doesn’t rush you, wanting you to be as authentic as possible when providing him with an answer. “There’s this guy…”

Hyunjin then feels all of the blood drain out of face right then. If the abrupt announcement of your departure from SeoulSpark’s services had not sent him into a panic, then this definitely did. He sees that unsure yet determined look in your eye, the kind he’s observed appearing whenever you have a strong opinion to share, the thoughts of other people be damned.

“Who… who is it?” He manages to spit out, thinking back to his go-to metaphoric fork and stabbing himself in the thigh with it, over and over again, to keep himself in place. “Someone from the matchmaking event?”

“It’s not any of those guys, no. You probably don’t even know him. Some guy from work,” you explain quickly, prompting a fresh wave of confusion to wash over Hyunjin. “But that’s not the point. He’s, um, always on my mind. I can’t stop thinking about him, no matter how much I don’t want to. Because, for obvious reasons, I can’t be with him. And I don’t want to hurt him, because the pain from the past— from Jisung— is still there, even if I don’t love him anymore. I don’t trust myself with love.”

Love? Is that what this is? Do you love whoever this useless idiot is? 

Hyunjin’s thoughts cower in betrayal, even though you owe him absolutely nothing. He shakes them away, focusing on everything else you’ve just confided in him with. “It’s okay to not be completely over the past. You might never be, and that’s okay, because what you went through was traumatic. That kind of hurt sticks, and you’re strong for trying to move forward. But you can’t let the fear of the unknown stop you.”

You shake your head. “But it’s too significant to ignore, that fear. My worst nightmare is hurting him like Jisung did to me. What if I end up doing that, Hyunjin? What if I leave him, like Jisung left me?”

“Don’t compare yourself to that piece of shit,” Hyunjin says sharply, making you jump a little. Normally, he’d apologize for coming on too strong, but he couldn’t. Not when you talk about yourself like that. “And it’s just a risk you’re going to have to take. And if he’s really worth it, then he’ll stay by your side no matter what.” 

I would. I wouldn’t ever fucking leave you. 

Before you can say anything, Hyunjin keeps going, unable to restrain himself from asking this next question, because he has to know. He has to know if you truly mean it. “So, the question is, do you think he is? Is he worth it?”

“I love who I am because of him,” you state, and with the way your voice doesn’t even waver, Hyunjin knows it to be completely true. “I’m ten times less pessimistic than I usually am. He makes me feel like a morning person, even though I’m not. And I actually want to do more with my life, see everything it has to offer. He makes me a better person, but I never feel forced to do anything for his attention, for the way he cares.”

“He- he sounds wonderful,” Hyunjin responds, and he’s trying— he really is— but he just doesn’t believe he can be genuine, not now. Not when he feels his heart breaking inside, not when he knows he’s a selfish bastard who should be celebrating you. And what did he fucking expect? That someone wouldn’t see a diamond and pick it up, keeping it for themselves? He’s so, so stupid. 

“He is.” You give him a meaningful look that makes his head spin. Now, what does that mean? Hyunjin doesn’t have it in him to be an interpreter today, strolling across the shoreline rocks of your mind, trying to decipher what today’s tides bring. It’s his literal job to know what you’re thinking, and yet, today his mind is completely clear of any sense of logic.

“He makes me feel seen, even if he may never feel the same,” you continue, biting your lip. “He’s the most beautiful person I know.”

“I’m not supposed to say this, but anyone who wouldn’t return your feelings is a total idiot.” Hyunjin smiles at the way you shoot him a skeptical look. He wants to at least try to convey even a single sign that tells you that he’s glad you’ve found someone good, someone that could make you happy— what he could never do for you himself. “And I’m glad, Y/N. It’s a good thing we still have a month, because I can tell that there’s still some unease on your end, because you’re clearly holding yourself back. I just want the best for you.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m sorry if I was making a scene. I just so want to be done with all of this fixing. I just want to be ready to let go of all of that baggage, and I guess I was in a rush to do so.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize. Trust me, I get the feeling, more than you know.” Hyunjin reaches across and places his hand on yours, trying to relax you. “It’s okay to want to move on. It’s okay to be frustrated. And it’s okay to want someone. Let yourself be happy, because ultimately, you’re the only one who can control that, no one else.”

For the first time during your meeting today, you break out into a smile, and Hyunjin has to blink to readjust him to the sight. It’s like a rainbow has cut through a stormy sky, joining in a perfect Yin and Yang. Hyunjin loves all of you, both the color and the tempest, because together, they make you who you are. He wouldn’t change you for the world; all he’s ever done for you was try to make you realize that yourself.

“You are such a gift, Hyunjin,” you say fondly, and Hyunjin has to remind himself that it’s because you see him as a friend, as a confidante. It would never be in the way he completely wants it to be, and he’ll have to make his peace with that, for you.

“I know. All I’m missing is a big pink bow,” Hyunjin jokes, plastering a smile onto his face. For the first time ever, he wishes you would walk out of his office, taking with you your infectious laugh and incandescent gaze. You can’t be here when he falls apart like he so badly needs to. 

You laugh, thankfully not sensing his internal turmoil. “Alright, Hyunjin. I have to get going. But I’ll see you next week?”

He nods, rising as you stand and turn for the door. “Of course. Have a good one, darling.”

“Same goes for you.” You reach up and give his shoulder a little squeeze, before you’re walking away, too soon and yet, not fast enough.

From where you touched him over his cardigan, Hyunjin’s skin burns with desire. But it isn’t enough to keep him from clumsily shutting the door closed behind him as he stumbles back inside of his office. He screws his eyes shut and tries to rapidly think of a list of his favorite things. Pink roses. Sequined Versace blazers. Puppies. Monet paintings.

But he should know by now that such sorrow is inevitable. It was written in his fate, the moment he set his eyes and heart upon you, knowing he would never get that happy ending. After all, he’s the Love Doctor, not a miracle worker. He knows this to be true especially when he feels a dampness on his cheeks and thinks it to be some kind of bewitched rain that’s able to fall inside his office. It’s only when he looks into his compact mirror that he realizes that he’s crying, broken and hopelessly gone for you.

That did not go well. You walked into SeoulSpark with a plan and had promptly failed, when Hyunjin decided to persuade you into staying. But you gave in to his pretty eyes and assuaging words, conveniently forgetting about the half-hour long promises you made with yourself in the morning. 

You were supposed to end your contract, regardless of whether you would be wasting your money or not. That would have been a small price to pay for the pain of love. And you know you’re right, because you start to cry during your shameful walk through the parking lot.

You don’t know what it is that made you open up so profoundly to Hyunjin, past the point where it was safe to conceal your feelings for him. But you just had to keep speaking, going so far as to describe Hyunjin as the object of all of your agitation and pretending like it was someone else that he had no idea of. You’re a fraud, and your only consolation is that Hyunjin sees you so platonically that he probably would never catch onto your feelings. After all, in what world would someone like you being with someone of his caliber ever make any sense? And it’s ironic, really, that you’ve fallen for him, the person who is there to help you find someone else to spend lonely nights with.

After unlocking your car, you collapse into the front seat, letting all of your emotions out for a good few minutes into the night. When the sides of your face finally begin to dry, you open your eyes with a groan, turning the key in the ignition and driving back home. 

You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, because that godforsaken networking party was looming sooner in the future than you’d like, and you still had to buy something to wear. Your current wardrobe was much more vibrant than it had been just a few months ago, the jeans and plaid blazers hidden behind fluttery sundresses and silky skirts. However, it was all far too casual for the heightened class that you knew the event would require, and therefore, you’d recruited Yeonjun to help you shop, with the promise of all of his meals being paid for the next day.

As soon as you get home, you toss your keys onto the little side table next to the doorway with a huff, knocking your heels off and not bothering to arrange them neatly back onto your shoe stand. With the efficiency of a carpenter ant on a mission, you march into your bathroom and slip out of that god-awful dress, changing into a pair of soft pink pajamas with a magenta heart pattern printed all over them. The set had caught your eye as you were strolling through Costco the other day, a little more expensive than you’d like, but they reminded you of Hyunjin, so into the cart they went. You could allow yourself this comfort, you tell yourself.

Once freshened up, you head into the kitchen, dumping some leftover pasta into a bowl to heat it up, glowering at the microwave as the seconds tick by far too slowly. And as always, you eat at your crappy dining table, alone. Just this morning, you had been sitting in this same place, brainstorming ways to secure project funding, navigating the path to reviving your old startup, ITEM.

Before Hyunjin, you had ditched the excitement of indulging in work, your passion, for more self-destructive, wasteful behavior. In the past few months, after meeting him, there was this renewed sense of productivity in you— he inspired you, made you ache to find your own success in the world. So even though Mark denied you the opportunity to participate in the upcoming function, you disobeyed him and secretly went through with your own idea anyway, especially after hearing through the office grapevine that a lot of big-name investors would be attending. Somehow, you decided, you would figure out a way to present to them and achieve your dream. It was optimistic, maybe a little foolishly so, but that hadn’t bothered you. 

Today, however, you felt this sense of loss that hadn’t touched you in a while. It was nothing related to work, fortunately, but still, you couldn’t focus, mind wandering to your meeting with Hyunjin at the end of the day. For the first time, the thought of him was hurting you, not motivating you. And it still hurts you, with the way you disinterestedly poke at your fettuccine. 

So when you go to bed that night, touching yourself to the thought of him doesn’t have the same velvety allure to it. No, it’s more of a physiological need that forces its way into your hand that glides down your body. It’s the rabic, animalistic desire that drives the tips of your fingers under the waistband of your shorts. It’s the anguish, the longing, that makes you spread your legs, hips bucking up against the mattress.

You had smiled at him, earlier today, after that short drama you’d exerted, when he calmed you down and placated you with a soft, but commanding tone. You had poured your heart out to him, holding back just his name on the tip of your tongue, and he had listened. And you had feigned being amiable, and he accepted it, when in reality, you were so fucking furious with Hyunjin.

After you paraded into his office like a brat, demanding to end the contract as if you cared nothing as to what he might think, he had still treated you with so much understanding, with a quiet concern. You haven’t lost your temper in a long time now, but Hyunjin never failed to respond so well, so kindly to you. In every way that you were irked, he remained calm and gracious. It makes you inexplicably angry, so much that you just want to scream into the cool Angeles night air, letting the sound reverberate off the crumbling buildings of your shitty neighborhood. You hate how good is to you almost as much as you despise yourself in your absolute lowest moments, moments like these. You don’t want the sensuality of his gaze washing over you, worshiping you. You don’t want to melt into his touch, let him take care of you. You don’t want to fuck him like a lover would— no, you want his tears, you want to ruin him like he has done so easily to you.

You think of Hyunjin and his lovely, lovely mouth. A lip pulled in between his teeth in thought, slightly slick with spit when he licks them before speaking. You want to feel the stretch of them around your fingers as you force them into his mouth, choking him and chasing away his breathy complaints. 

You close your eyes, the image of you working yourself with your fingers fading in favor of imagining Hyunjin doing it for you instead. You, gripping his wrist harshly, pumping Hyunjin’s own fingers into yourself, berating him for not being able to do it well enough on his own. 

Then you’d slap his hands away, pushing him onto your bed and straddle his narrow hips, grinding your dripping pussy onto his thighs while getting off both in the friction and Hyunjin’s pleas for you to ride his cock instead. 

But when you decide to put an end to his torture, it wouldn’t be for his pleasure. You want to fuck Hyunjin hard, fuck him sore, the minuscule gap between your bodies clogged and messy with sweat and a mixture of arousal and saliva, from where you’d spit onto his cock. You want him on his back, staring up at you hopefully as he falls apart, begging you to let him come. You want to refuse him, snap at him and make it mean, but he’ll come anyway, guilt and arousal on his beautiful face. Of course he’ll have to clean up his own mess, sucking obediently on your fingers covered with the come you had retrieved from where it was splattered between your legs. 

And then you’d kiss him, slow and deep, nothing like how you took him apart under the sheets. You’d cup his face and whisper praises, running your hands down his body. Declarations of love would fall from your lips, because no matter how much he worked you up, the truth would never change. 

You finish to that final thought, barely hearing the shameful, wet sounds of you abusing your cunt with your fingers that thrust in and out of yourself wildly. But even though you have already come, you cup your pussy again and run your finger, feather-light, through your folds, imagining it was Hyunjin’s lips placing a kiss there, instead. Imagining that no matter how many spiteful words you spat at him during the time you fucked him, he knew that you would never hate him. You understand, that no matter how enraged you have the potential to be, you will never, ever hate Hyunjin. Because you love him— so much that it hurts.

“You’d think that my body was made for Gucci, but there’s something about Privé that turns me on so bad.”

You fight the urge to gag as Yeonjun brings the ugly sweatshirt up to his chest, holding it up in front of the mirror in an attempt to model it on his scrawny frame. You briskly snatch it out of his hands and shove it back onto its hanger, grasping your cousin’s hand like a mother and her toddler. 

“Stop talking about brands like you want to fuck them,” you scold him. Yeonjun rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation, but doesn’t try to wriggle out of your hold when you drag him to the women’s section. Sometimes, you feel like you’re an exasperated single parent, toting him around and snapping at him to behave, even though he is barely three years younger than you.

As you enter the evening wear end of the department store, you let go of Yeonjun to sift through the variety of fabrics available. He gleefully bounces around, swishing through the dresses you’re both drowning in and nearly knocking a couple of them off of their racks. But you can’t find it in yourself to chide him again, not when he looks so happy to be here with you. Not that you would ever let him know that you have the capacity to be soft when it comes to him.

“This beats working on job applications,” Yeonjun sighs, sticking his arm through an armhole on a particularly gaudy tea gown. You snicker at how the satin pools beneath his underarms, making him look like a child cosplaying in their mother’s old outfits.

“How’s senior year? I haven’t even been asking you about school, lately.” The last part is less of a rationale for your question to him, and more of a surprised self-proclamation on your end. You can’t remember the last time you ever listened to Yeonjun complain about his ancient professors and weird roommate. The thought fills you with a certain sense of regret; you might not have a lot, but Yeonjun has always been there for you. Most of the time, he annoys you to no end, but his constant presence reminds you that you’re never alone.

The playfulness melts out of Yeonjun’s demeanor, a sight to see with someone who is always so easy-going, never taking life seriously. But you see the somber look in his eyes as he turns to gaze at you critically. “You’ve got a lot going on, I know that.”

You flush, mind automatically going to Hyunjin. Outside of the slice of your day in which you are truly focused on work, the rest of your time goes into dreaming about the attainable object of your fantasies. Eat, sleep, work, and think about Hyunjin. “I— yeah. Work’s been crazy. And reopening ITEM, as well. But that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

Yeonjun gives you a wry little smile, foxy and sly. “Work. Sure. Definitely not a certain sexy ass dating coach, right?”

For a guy that presents himself to be so unendingly superficial, Yeonjun has the ability to read people in the snap of a finger. You don’t understand why he tries to act so vapid when he has such a capacity— if you had such a power, you’d use it to no end. 

Your cheeks flush, embarrassingly evident. “Got me there, but I’ve already reached a resolution about him. I’ll go through with the rest of the contract, pull away gradually, and then stop seeing him. Easy.”

Except it is not easy, and both of you know it. Yeonjun rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “I just don’t get it. Why are you so down bad for him? He’s pretty, don’t get me wrong, but there are a lot of pretty people. He’s the guy who’s supposed to be setting you up with other people. Like, you’re not supposed to be falling for him.”

“I know, Jun,” you sigh. “But I think we’re more alike than outward perceptions allow. I feel like he never really lets his guard down around other people. I just wish I could have the chance to make him feel as seen as he does for me. He’s like no one I’ve ever met.”

Yeonjun stays quiet for a long moment, scrutinizing the way you lower your eyes and resume haphazardly shuffling through the dresses. “I think you should tell him how you feel.”

You would burst into laughter at how ridiculous his proposition is, except it’s not funny at all. “Now that would be crossing the line. Our relationship is completely platonic. Imagine how uncomfortable it would be, to find out that the client you’re trying to help connect with others falls for you instead? I couldn’t do that to Hyunjin.”

“I think Hyunjin still deserves to know. He’s your dating coach, Y/N. If there’s anyone who can understand you, it’s him, because if he really cares about you, nothing about your relationship will change. And who knows, maybe he reciprocates. You never know.”

Listening to your cousin give you such advice makes you feel strange, but not in an unpleasant way. You truly are thankful for it, even if you might not completely trust in it. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Jun.”

Yeonjun looks like he wants to say more, but he seems to notice the note of finality in your voice and decides to move on. “Back to me. Ask me again, about how school’s going, and I’ll tell you all of the tea.”

“How is school going?” 

“Oh, thank God you asked. Beomgyu is still trying to get me to feature on his OnlyFans, but even though he’s a little creepy with it, he’s the only one who agrees to come thrift shopping with me. And he’s a pretty chill roommate overall, so I can’t really complain. Ugh, and it turns out, my evil ex is still obsessed with me…”

You grin and listen to Yeonjun ramble on about his very animated life at UCLA, thankful for the distraction as you comb through the racks. After a few minutes of tuning into Yeonjun’s story about how he walked in on Beomgyu hooking up with some guy named Jeongin, you freeze, because you meet eyes with the one person you wished you would never see again. Yeonjun’s babbling comes to a jarring stop, and you both just stare at the monster who tried to ruin your life.

“Y/N! Is that you?” 

He saunters forward as you stay rooted to where you are, and it’s like he has walked right out of an old photo album carrying the bitter memories of your past. You recognize those round, sparkling doe eyes, the ones that reminded you of the dark pearls in the milk tea drinks you both would always share at night markets. The same choppy, boyish haircut streaked with caramel, the locks you would quietly run your fingers through after every time you forgave him. That delicate, nearly fairy-like face, the one that you could never bring yourself to hate, no matter how much he pushed you. Park Jisung has not changed one bit, except for the space you used to clutch on his arms has now been occupied by someone new. 

The girl is stunning, you can admit, but on closer look, you realize that it’s Kazuha Nakamura, the last girl he cheated on you with, the one that severed the final threads of your relationship. She, on the other hand, looks completely different, with her blonde curls chopped into a dark Brazilian-permed lob that swishes when she tilts her head down derisively, surveying you from head-to-toe. She looks like the epitome of the girl that Jisung was always trying to get you to be, stuck into the mold of a life predetermined for her. And for the first time in a long time, you’re glad you didn’t fit.

You regain your bearings a moment later after the initial shock wears off, when Park Jisung laughs, a deep, rumbling sound that contrasts with the way Kazuha titters next to him. But instead of acknowledging Jisung, you turn to Kazuha first instead.

“Kazuha! What a surprise!” You smile sweetly at her while she just gapes at you blankly, clearly surprised by your absence of hostility. In the periphery of your eye, you can see Jisung ball his fists at his side, ever the narcissist to be irked by even a slight dearth of attention. “You look great, girl!”

“And you look exactly the same, Jisung,” Yeonjun says flatly in a way that obviously conveys insult, before slinging a protective arm around your shoulder. You stifle a snort, and watch the way Jisung rolls his eyes.

“Ever a delight, aren’t you, Yeonjun?” Jisung shoots him a venomous smile, that Yeonjun responds to with a cheesy little salute. This time, you can’t contain the chuckle that escapes your lips. 

Before anyone can say more, you pipe up, determined to have the last word in the conversation you have no intention of repeating. “It was wonderful to see you, Jisung. You and Kazuha make a lovely pair— hope it works out!”

With one last gracious nod of your head, you loop your arm through Yeonjun’s and move past where Jisung and Kazuha stand rooted to the spot, speechless. As you and Yeonjun flounce away, you feel Jisung’s gaze burning into the back of your neck, but you don’t care. Not anymore.

“Damn, and I thought I’d get to watch a fight today. I really would have liked to see that dickwad get his just desserts,” Yeonjun grumbles, but you see the impressed look on his face.

You feel an unfamiliar rush of both adrenaline and triumph coursing through your veins; you saved your anger, and yet, you know you’ve won. For months, you told yourself that if you ever got the chance to tell Jisung off, you would use it. But the thought didn’t bring you as much satisfaction as it did before, and besides, you have someone more worth your tears now. Seeing Jisung again didn’t affect you as much as it once would have, because you finally, truly have moved on. And comparably, your current predicament seems much more daunting than some loser who never deserved you. 

“They looked like morons when we didn’t give them the reaction they wanted. Besides, I’m taking the high road.”

“You’re boring when you’re not a bitch.”

“Thanks.” You grin, pausing your gait when you see it. The giddiness drains into something more mournful as you take in the dress, delicate folds of pink chiffon that dissolve into a painstakingly threaded gold-beaded skirt. “This is the one, Jun.”

Yeonjun doesn’t miss the beat of sadness in your voice, the thickness of your words. “Seriously though, you don’t have to talk about Jisung, but I feel like that’s not who you’re upset about. You don’t seem okay.”

“I’ve found my peace with Jisung, but there’s still something else.” You inhale sharply. “I’m in love with Hyunjin.”

He stays quiet for a moment, before taking the dress off of the rack for you. “This is on me.”

“I appreciate it, but you don’t have to—”

“I want to. And if you’re not busy tonight, I have somewhere to be, and I’d like it if you came with me. What do you say?”

You’re not oblivious— you recognize the sympathy, Yeonjun’s clear attempt to cheer you up, a switch-up from the banter you usually trade. Before, you would refuse, retreating home to bury yourself deeper into a hole. But for once, you don’t want to push away the people who care about you. So you accept and look forward, accepting the poignance of it all.

“Hwang Hyunjin, you’d better get your ass over here on time, or else I’ll—”

Hyunjin bursts into a dramatic fit of coughing, cutting off Seungmin’s nagging. “Remind me to take you to one of my yoga sessions. Your chakras are seriously off, but there’s nothing that Dr. Sachet can’t fix.”

“Hyunjin.” 

“I know! I just got here, Seungmin.” Hyunjin sighs, ending the call before Seungmin has the chance to say anything further. He slides his phone into his pocket, already regretting his choice to accept Seungmin’s request— which was actually more of a demand— to be his plus-one at his college reunion. 

Any other day, he would have loved to ditch his introverted activities to accompany his best friend to get tipsy and gossip about everyone’s glow ups. Today, however, all he really wants to do is curl up in his bed with Princess Diana and binge-watch Friends. But alas, his loyalty— and fear— for Seungmin won out, and now here he is, standing in a rounded glass elevator on his way up to Highlight, the upscale rooftop bar venue of the event. 

When the elevator finally reaches the top floor, the telltale bell dings, opening the door into what can only be described as high-end chaos: people decked out in crisp suits and cocktail dresses and jewels, as they crowd around the lighted bar counters, shouting out their drink orders to harried bartenders while trying to brag about how successful they’ve become over the past few years. Waiters walk around, serving hors d'oeuvres to the guests that promptly ignore them, and the orchestral jazz, courtesy of the live band crowded into the corner, is drowned out by the raucous laughter of a group of men situated at a section of tables next to the windows. The whole effect is ridiculously ostentatious, and even Hyunjin has to restrain himself from letting his lip curl with disgust.

“Fuck, there you are.” Hyunjin feels a warm hand on his shoulder, and turns to see Seungmin staring at him with an overwhelmed look in his eye.

Hyunjin takes in his friend for a moment, admiring his black and white silk polka dot shirt that’s tucked into a pair of belted navy slacks. At least someone at this place had style, and it’s always a pleasure for it to be Seungmin, as by now, Hyunjin has gotten used to seeing him wearing bloodied scrubs. “You look good, man. But why in the world would you want to come here and see all of these jerks?”

Seungmin shrugs, and Hyunjin is surprised to see a slight blush overtake his features. He traces Seungmin’s wandering gaze over to the edge of the open balcony, where a devastatingly handsome man strangely stands on his own, sipping on his cocktail while observing the view of skyscrapers stretching out around the building. Ah. 

“He’s Seungcheol, isn’t he? Your old crush that you never talked to? That’s why we’re here?” Hyunjin teases, remembering those nights when he got Seungmin tipsy enough to confess his unrequited feelings for Choi Seungcheol, the resident heartbreaker of the pre-med student body at UCLA. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Seungmin grumbles, but his complexion betrays him, turning as red as a tomato. 

Hyunjin laughs heartily, thanking a passing waitress before accepting a mango and vanilla parfait from her tray. “Alright.”

And then it’s Seungmin’s turn to check out Hyunjin, who strikes a little pose and preens at the attention. “I don’t know how, but even with all of your designer shit, you never seem like a dick.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Hyunjin grins. Hyunjin never dresses to appease the dress code— instead, he makes it his bitch, and does it in a way that’s classy, not ostentatious. It’s clear in today’s sophisticated yet roguish ensemble: a crisp white Givenchy suit paired with Nike Air Forces to deflate the grandiose of the former brand. And the sheer black tank top and silver chain-link necklace under his oversized blazer was just enough to add a touch of gender-bending sexiness. 

The corner of Seungmin’s mouth quirks up, and he hooks his arm into Hyunjin’s, steering him towards a high table tucked into a more quiet section of the bar. “Having fun, Hyun?”

Hyunjin fights a smile. “Moresoe now that you’re here with me, babe.”

That is Seungmin’s cue to shove Hyunjin away, who continues to bat his lashes prettily. “I hate you. I should’ve asked Nicholas the hot nurse to be my date instead.”

“But then you couldn’t flirt with our Seungcheol!”

Seungmin groans, head falling onto the table, lolling to the side hopelessly. “I don’t even know how to approach him, though. I mean, did you see him? He just managed to get even more gorgeous! His hair? His height? He’s totally out of my league.”

Hyunjin immediately morphs into wingman mode. “Trust me, I can just tell he has a thing for cute nerds. And, not to be crass, but his body language screams brat tamer.”

“I am not a brat,” Seungmin scowls. 

“Touché.” 

After a few more minutes of hyping Seungmin up, Hyunjin triumphantly sits back and watches his friend slink off in the direction of Seungcheol; he snickers to himself when Seungmin tentatively taps on Seungcheol’s shoulder, shaking like a fangirl about to ask a celebrity for a picture. Seungcheol turns, a friendly beam cutting across his stern features. Seungmin says something indiscernible to Seungcheol that makes him laugh, and that’s Hyunjin’s sign to leave the rest to his friend. 

By this time, the company around him has eased slightly, with everyone digging into the buffet-style dinner that the caterers have set out. 

“Don’t mind if I do,” Hyunjin mutters under his breath, thinking back to the flimsy cup of ramyun that he had scarfed down earlier. He picks up a plate from one of the long tables and gets in line, mouth already watering at the spread of food. After loading his plate with copious helpings of every dish of carbs in sight, he also makes sure to secure dessert, snagging a couple pastries and slices of cake. The gaggle of ladies behind him shoot him pointed looks, but he ignores them, walking away to find seating; he’s needed this, after the week he’s had.

He winds up sitting next to a giddy couple that just cannot keep their hands off of each other. Most of the time, when he winds up somewhere with people who exhibit excessive public displays of affection, he tries to discreetly slip away or make himself as unknown as possible, the hopeless romantic in him quietly cheering them on. Now, however, he unceremoniously plops onto the farthest end of the loveseat opposite of them, all alone and just grateful that the food is good.

“Earth to Hyunjin!”

Hyunjin looks up, mouth stuffed embarrassingly full of a caprese salad sandwich. “Mrph?”

Seungmin stands there, hands on his knees while he pants a little to catch his breath. “You will not believe what just happened.”

“Well, what happened?”

“Seungcheol and I are going out to dinner tomorrow!” Seungmin huffs, cheeks flushed a bright red as he looks over at Seungcheol where he’s standing by the elevator. Seungcheol gives him a shy smile before quickly looking away. Seungmin smirks and leans down to speak into Hyunjin’s ear. “And he just asked me if I have any plans for the rest of the night.”

He leans back to gauge Hyunjin’s reaction, which, in Hyunjin’s knowledge of his friend, does not disappoint. Hyunjin gasps theatrically and nearly drops his plate in trying to clap him on the back in congratulations. “That’s my man!”

“That’s right!” 

Hyunjin grins. “Even your ship name would be cute. 2Seung. Meant to be.”

“You’re such a dork.” Seungmin rolls his eyes, but fails to hide his blush. “Now, I’m gonna go get railed by the man of my dreams.”

Hyunjin bids Seungmin goodbye, remaining enthusiastic up until the moment he sees Seungmin and Seuncheol take their leave. As soon as they do, he lets his smile fall. He’s happy for Seungmin, really. He just wishes it could be him disappearing into that glass elevator with his lover. He would press you up against that heavy gold railing that rounds the inside, kissing you as you begin your descent down the building. Kissing you as fireworks go off in the distance, brighter than the Los Angeles skyline. Kissing you even when the elevator door opens, an irked crowd of people waiting to get in. He wishes he could flaunt you off to everyone in the world, show everyone how perfect you are for him. 

Hyunjin is so lost in his muddled, wistful thoughts that he doesn’t notice the couch dip, someone just as miserable as him occupying the tiny space next to him. 

“Hyunjin?”

He turns his head, slowly, to see you, of all people, glaring at him with a bewildered expression on your face. He remains in a momentary stunned silence, taking in the slight redness of your nose, how watery your eyes are. The space in between your eyebrows that’s painfully scrunched. The way your lips are pressed together tightly. You’ve been crying. Still gorgeous, no matter what.

“Darling?”

For the second time today, you are caught off guard. You have been stewing in your loneliness all evening, ruminating over your hopelessly unrequited love. It surprised you, a little bit, how you were barely affected by the run-in with Jisung, but that faded away when you took your first sip at the absurdly lavish open bar. For others, alcohol can be liquid courage— for you, it’s a depressant that brings out the sad drunk in you.

You shake your head, trying not to let the immediate horror seep into you. But how can it not, when the gorgeous man you are in love with has just become witness to your ugly tears for the second time? And from where did he just appear out of, when you thought you were going to be able to spend your time wallowing in your sorrows alone? Life is truly unfair.

“What- what are you doing here?” You sputter. 

You imagine that Hyunjin looks stunned, for a moment, but his face lights up when he realizes that it is you who is the mess curled up next to him. If he seems put off by the remnants of your crying, he does not show it. “I was here as my friend’s date, but it seems as though he’s ditched me for a better one.”

He gives you a furtive smile that makes you feel like you’re in on a joke, and in spite of your pitiful state, you immediately feel the warmth spread through you. “The Love Doctor always works, doesn’t he?”

“It’s my nine-to-five, as well as my five-to-nine,” Hyunjin jokes, chuckling. “So, you’re a UCLA alum? You didn’t strike me as the sort, I didn’t think.”

You scoff playfully. “Absolutely not. Proud Case Western grad here. Where else would I get my inherent computer geek complex?”

Hyunjin’s eyes sparkle. “Then what brings you here?”

“My cousin.” You jerk your chin in the direction of Yeonjun, who’s currently trying to break up a fight between two men who seem to be arguing about something related to stocks. “He’s trying to fulfill his senior undergraduate community service requirement by volunteering at this thing. But this is barely community service— I think the UCLA Alumni Association just wanted some free labor.”

Hyunjin laughs at your shitty joke, and you nearly feel like your attitude just turns up at that sound, unfurling like petals when touched by sunshine. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Too kitsch.” You tilt your head towards the dizzying display of debauchery currently swarming your little bubble: most of the guests have separated into their own cliques by now, and the one closest to you has set up an uproarious gambling circle on their table. This is a bit much, even if for a swanky college reunion.

“Agreed.” Hyunjin stays quiet for a moment, and you watch him curiously, wondering what he’s thinking of. He relieves you a moment later. “Darling, I don’t want to intrude, but I just wanted to ask if everything’s okay?”

You hesitate to answer, because although you know he genuinely wants to check up on you, given the astronomically considerate person he is, you don’t want to burden him with your problems— especially if the problem is him. So you do what any sensible person would do and deflect. “It’s a long story. How about we check out the bar?”

You expect him to turn you down, but maybe you’re not the only one who needs a drink, because he accepts. “I feel like I’ll regret it, but alright.”

Hyunjin helps you up from where you sit, grabbing your purse for you and handing it to you as you stand, making your heart squeeze even tighter in your chest. But you both make your way over to the open bar, snagging two seats at the very end of the counter on one side. 

The teariness made your intoxication a bit more discreet, so you’re openly able to ask for a beer without raising Hyunjin’s eyebrows. Hyunjin, on the other hand, orders a pink champagne on the rocks. He really is so sophisticated. After you both finish speaking with the bartender, he turns to you, placing his elbow on the counter and propping up his chin in his arm. The soft smile on his face fits perfectly as his eyes lock onto yours, and it feels… flirtatious. 

You’re suddenly transported into all of those times you were alone at a bar, men approaching you with a similar demeanor, but with very much different intentions. Therein, with Hyunjin, the aura of respect and boundaries still hangs in the air, so it doesn’t linger, no matter how much you wish it would stay. 

The bartender sets your choices in front of you, and you try to enjoy the drink, but the overwhelming bitterness of it just makes everything come crashing down. You sniffle, and then immediately hope that Hyunjin has not noticed that you are beginning to cry pathetically— again— into your mug of beer.

Hyunjin looks concerned, leaning forward as if to put his arm around you, but after a moment’s hesitation, he retracts his arm and instead, focuses on your face. "Y/N?"

Shit. You try to laugh it off as an extremely severe case of allergies, but even besides the fact that there's barely any pollen in the concrete jungle of Los Angeles, you suck at acting. Too bad Hollywood is only a ten-minute commute from your apartment.

"I’m… I’m okay. I'm totally okay." You try to laugh it off, but instead, it sounds like a strange, very unattractive quack. The thick tears that begin to roll down your cheeks are not even necessary for Hyunjin to call you out. He is not buying any of it.

"Darling, please. Don’t lie to me.”

"Hyunjin, I'm fine! God!"

At this point, you're full on sobbing in the middle of the room, and people are shooting you weird looks. Hyunjin should leave. Being seen with a mess like you could taint his spotless, perfect image, and outside of his office, he has absolutely no obligation to you. Fuck, you don’t even know why you’re being such a crybaby— before Hyunjin, you could actually down booze without losing it on the spot, especially surrounded by a bunch of strangers.

But as if he couldn’t tug at you anymore, he doesn’t think this time to cross the miniscule space between you both and pull you into a tight hug. You feel like utter crap, and it’s been so long since someone just held you, assuring you that everything is going to be fine. But you can’t help notice one insignificant detail: Hyunjin smells fucking amazing and expensive and elegant— perhaps Chanel or Tom Ford? And in that glorious suit too, he’s like the real-life, less embarrassing embodiment of the mafia overlords that dominated your questionable high school fanfiction phase. Fuck. This isn’t helping the situation.

Hyunjin, meanwhile, rubs soothing circles on your back, definitely unaware of your inappropriate intrusive thoughts. “Shhh, it’s going to be okay. Do you wanna get out of here?”

You blink up at him tearily, mind frazzled but remembering your engagement. “But, Yeonjun…”

And as if the devil whispers in his ears, your cousin manifests out of thin air, collapsing onto the empty stool next to you. “My dear cuz, smack some sense into me if I ever volunteer again with— wait. Bro, are you crying?”

The shame piles up on you again, heating up your skin in a way that’s too obvious. But before you can muster up a lie, Hyunjin speaks for you, taking the mug away from your hands. “I think it’s best if Y/N gets some rest, she isn’t feeling too well.”

Yeonjun just stares dumbly at Hyunjin for a second, jaw hanging open a little, as it does for anyone when they are first in the presence of Hwang Hyunjin. “I, uh. Yeah. That’s good. You’re Hwang Hyunjin, right? Her dating coach?”

Even through your intoxication, you feel like you see something flicker in Hyunjin’s eyes, but as always, it doesn’t last. “Yes, it’s wonderful to meet you, Yeonjun. Y/N has spoken a lot about you.”

“Same to you.” Yeonjun snickers, before clearing his throat and turning serious. “Listen, man, I hate to ask you this. But can you please help her home? I can text you the address? I really can’t leave this stupid shindig until it’s over, but I don’t wanna leave her alone—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of her.” Hyunjin states firmly, motioning to the bartender to bring you a large class of water. The way he’s looking out for you brings up something hot, aroused in your stomach. 

Yeonjun nods, and to his credit, he really does look as apologetic as you can discern in your drunk haze. Hyunjin helps you finish your water, before buying a water bottle for you to sip from, as he slides his arm around your shoulders and helps you out of that terrible room. In most cases, when sober and thinking straight, you would be as rigid as a bar, humiliated and unsure of what to do with yourself. But you let yourself have this, just once, melting into his side and enjoying your misery more than you should.

Sometimes, Hyunjin really can be such a piece of shit. Like the time he promised Princess Diana extra cuddles before bedtime, but forgot because he had been working late at SeoulSpark on some overdue reports; he had felt like such a horrible father to his baby. Or the time he mentioned a Gucci product during an interview, inadvertently advertising for Versace’s biggest competitor; Donatella wouldn’t reply to his texts for nearly a week. But all of that seems tame in comparison to today.

You’ve had too much to drink and can’t stop crying, and here Hyunjin is, thinking about how much he wants to kiss you. In his defense, you look so adorable, with your cheeks flushed from the alcohol, eyes drooping with drowsiness and lips pouted preciously. But it’s still highly inappropriate of Hyunjin to be thinking of you in such a way, so he shoves those treacherous thoughts into the back of his mind and focuses on staring at anything but you.

After a few swipes on the Uber app, your ride pulls up in front of the hotel in which Highlight is located inside. At this point, you’ve become pliant in Hyunjin’s arms, cuddling into his side and clutching at his waist. Hyunjin can barely breathe, and is vastly thankful for the distraction of the car's arrival.

He helps you into the backseat of the car, before getting in from the other side. The drive back to your place is quiet, save for the breezy orchestra music that the driver plays on the low and the soft sounds of your sniffling. Hyunjin clenches his jaw and stares out the window, trying to focus on the green highway signs whizzing by and not the fact that you’re barely centimeters away from him, humming sadly along to the radio. 

Twenty minutes pass, and suddenly, you’re both standing in front of your apartment building, an old but dreamy housing complex tucked away in one of the quieter sectors of the city. Hyunjin walks you up to your door, telling himself that he’ll leave as soon as you’re safe inside. He watches you sway on your feet a little while you take a few extra minutes to fumble with the door lock. Hyunjin wants you to go inside and slam the door in his face, bringing him back to his senses. Instead, you look over at him, a lilt to your voice.

“Wanna come inside?” You slightly slur over your words, giving him a small glance. It’s innocent enough that Hyunjin knows your motives are pure, even if a tiny part of him wishes they weren’t. 

He hesitates, the logical side of his mind screaming at him to politely refuse and bid you a goodnight. But then again, he hasn’t been very logical whenever it comes to you. He now promises himself that this is just a little post-party hangout. You can be friends, can’t you? And besides, you need someone to look after you. And friends look after each other, don’t they?

Hyunjin steps inside, instantly in awe of your apartment. The open floor concept allows him to explore the entire layout with his eyes, from the soft throw blanket lying on your very comfortable-looking couch to the bellowing linen curtains hanging over your windows. The mismatched furniture and nearly overflowing book cases are incredibly charming, the artful dissonance of your decor coming together in a harmony that just makes everything feel so cozy. 

In Hyunjin’s mind, your apartment is so quintessentially you, a feeling of home that his own place never quite felt like. Yes, he loves Oasis more than anything, but there’s this slightly pretentious air to it, this urge to keep it constantly pristine. It feeds into Hyunjin’s obsession over perfection, instead of being the one place where he can truly be himself. Here, however, Hyunjin feels comfortable, secure in his own skin, even when in reality, he probably looks ridiculously out of place in his over-the-top outfit.

“Hm,” you mumble, prompting Hyunjin to whirl around and rush forward to steady you when you lean a little too forward. “Do you wanna drink?”

Hyunjin frowns at you while you just giggle nonsensically. You’re nowhere near sober, but at the very least, at least you’re not distressed anymore. Hyunjin hates to see you upset; your face was made for smiling.

“Absolutely not. We have done enough drinking for today.” Hyunjin chides you sternly. “You can’t go to bed on an empty stomach, though.”

You prop yourself on one of the chairs at your dining table, giving him an anticipating look that Hyunjin takes as permission to rummage through your cupboards. After looking through the fridge as well, Hyunjin settles on cooking you his comfort grilled cheese recipe. He pours you a glass of water and gives you a little pat on your head when you obediently finish the entire thing and accept another.

You quietly watch Hyunjin while he putters around the kitchen; the sheer domesticity of it all makes him yearn for this to be a regular occurrence. He’d cook for you everyday, filling you to the brim with all of the affection you deserve. But that’s not going to happen, so he keeps his head down and concentrates. Hyunjin flips the sourdough bread on the griddle until it’s golden brown, spreading liberal amounts of butter on each side. And the pièce de résistance, he adds one-third white cheddar, one-third yellow cheddar, and one-third American cheese, his favorite combination of cheeses for a rainy day. 

“This is so yummy,” you declare after your first bite, eyes full of delight. “Here, have some. You’re such a good cook, Hyunnie.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know whether to be more shocked at the fact that you’re holding out your own sandwich for Hyunjin to try, or how you just called him such an endearing nickname. “I– it’s okay, darling. I’m not hungry.”

But you don’t accept it, because it looks like you’re just as stubborn even when inebriated. “You need to taste, or else I’ll be sad.”

You flash him a heartbroken set of puppy dog eyes that makes him melt and give in. He reaches across the rickety little table and tries to take the sandwich in his own hands, but you pull away slightly and hold it out to him expectantly. Oh. 

Hyunjin gingerly leans forward and lets you feed him a bite of the grilled cheese. He chews quickly, trying not to blush under the intensity of your gaze. Once he swallows, he watches you finish off the rest of the sandwich, satisfied with his compliance. When you’re done, you look up at him proudly, and he just can’t help but be endeared by you. 

Hyunjin clears the table and washes the dishes, wiping his hands on the fluffy towel hanging from the oven handle. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches out to brush a few stray crumbs off of the corner of your mouth, trying not to revel in the sensation of how soft your lips are under his thumb.

“Thank you,” you say, giving him a guileless smile while you bite down on an orange-colored candy from the small bowl on the counter. “Let’s do something fun, that party was so boring.”

Hyunjin lets you wrap your fingers around his wrist, pulling him to the living room and onto the couch. He huffs out a laugh as you clumsily fall onto the sofa, moving to get comfortable. “What are you thinking?”

You tap your chin dramatically, making a show of trying to decide what to do. “How about… karaoke?”

Hyunjin grins and takes the TV remote that you hand him, hopping onto YouTube and flipping through the list of lyrical videos. “Any preference for a song?”

You shake your head vigorously. “Surprise me.”

He settles on “Gone Away,” a ballad by one of his favorite underground rock bands. The slow notes of a love song float out through the speaker, the lovely voice of the lead singer, J.One, filling his ears. He nervously glances over at you, but you give him an encouraging nod, and Hyunjin lets himself go.

“Inside collapsed time, even my hopes for us to be together, no longer matter,” Hyunjin sings along to the lyrics, the song resonating within him more than he wishes it did. “My love, tangled up while looking for you, is gone, gone away, gone away.”

“I don’t think I can stop you from leaving anymore,” you join in softly, and Hyunjin looks over at you in surprise, but you’re staring straight ahead at the TV. He tamps down his nerves and gets through the rest of the song with you, both of you somehow harmonizing together in tune. At some point in the middle, the tears start pouring down his cheeks slowly, in the way he can never control. He just hopes that you don’t notice every time he reaches up to swipe at them, before inevitably fall.

The song doesn’t finish quick enough, and an advertisement begins to run on autoplay, but Hyunjin can’t bring himself to look at you again, terrified of the way his heart beats so deafeningly in his chest.

“Hyunjin.”

Serious, without a single hint of playfulness. Hyunjin clears his throat and lifts his head to see your indecipherable expression. He notices the traces of haziness in your eyes, but there’s undeniable determination written across your face. “Yes?”

“Don’t cry,” You nearly sob out, breath catching in your throat. “It doesn’t suit such a beautiful person to be filled with so much grief.”

Hyunjin covers up his astonishment at your words with denial, trying to push them off as an emotional reaction to the song. But you’ve just called him beautiful, and that cannot be covered up. “I’m sorry, that was a bit much.”

You swallow harshly, the dry sound of it audible. Maybe Hyunjin should excuse himself to bring you some water and escape this conversation. But— “You can never be too much. I want you, all the time. I think of you, all the time.”

This time, Hyunjin is effectively rendered gone. Frozen to the couch, time stopped and his train of rational thought put on hold. He reruns the sentence in his brain, trying to piece them together. You want him. You think of him? You want him? His confused, frantic contemplation is interrupted when you crawl over the couch and lift your palm to cup his jaw, so close that he can nearly feel the soft puff of your breathing against his face. Fuck, you’re still drunk.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” you murmur. Hyunjin is sure he has died and gone to some otherworldly dimension— maybe heaven, or hell, depending on how the higher powers have judged his situation to be— when he feels your lips slot against his, reeling him in like a needle through thread. So what else can he do, but accept what you give him and circle his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer so you’re on his lap.

You taste like the mango candy you popped earlier, sweet with a hint of tanginess, and it’s driving Hyunjin absolute nuts. Your eyes flutter shut and so do Hyunjin’s, both of you melting into each other, diving into the dangerous waters that Hyunjin swore that he wouldn’t tread. But he can’t stop, he just can’t, not when you lick into his mouth with a passion to rival the one he’s felt for you since day one. 

“Hyunjin…” You whisper, a long, obscenely drawn-out syllable that’s reminiscent of the noises that Hyunjin imagined eliciting from you. That one sound snaps him out of it. You’re drunk, you’re drunk, and this means nothing. This means nothing to you, and he’s just been here, the unfortunate sap to receive your sweet, empty words just because he’s been here for you once. He doesn’t deserve any of it. You’re not going to remember any of it. You are so fucking drunk.

Before he knows it, he’s shoving you off, and with the way you heavily land on the cushion next to him, he wasn’t gentle at all, in his panic. You just stare at him with a half-dazed, half-dismayed look on your face that makes him cringe away. 

“I am so sorry,” Hyunjin croaks, grabbing his phone and scrambling to stand up. He will pull himself together, eventually, in time to see you for the next appointment. And then he will remind himself that he is a mere service to you, and nothing more. As it should be, and as it always was.

Hyunjin doesn’t even wait for your response before he’s running out the door and into the night.

You come to at around noon, groggily blinking a few times before the memories come flooding back in. You drinking yourself stupid at the bar. Hyunjin leading the way back home. Karaoke while relaxed on your shitty couch from Craig’s List. Kissing like in a movie before the atomic bomb dropped. You kissed Hyunjin. Your drunk, sentimental ass was lucid enough to remember your feelings, but not sober enough to remember to conceal them. You kissed Hwang motherfucking Hyunjin, and you have colossally fucked up. 

You scream about it for a good half hour, ripping at your hair and keeling over on the couch, dry heaving in a failed attempt to let out your guilt. It sticks. You’re mortified. Scared. Disgusted. How, how could you do that to him? Taking advantage of him when he was in your own home? You didn’t even get proper consent from him! You are such a damn asshole, and now, Hyunjin is probably never going to want to see you again. 

All you want to do is jump under your covers and cry yourself to a sleep that you’ll never have to wake up from. But you love Hyunjin too much to do that to him. You owe him an apology and the entire world, which you have no qualms about bringing to him if he asked you.

And that’s why you’re at SeoulSpark, ignoring the fear pulsing in your body as you push open the door, closing your eyes as the cool gust of the air conditioning washes over your skin. But the drop in temperature does nothing to tamp down the nerves boiling under your skin. 

All of the composure that you have carefully curated in the past few minutes shrivels up— charred to a crisp and punted out of Hyunjin’s ridiculously extravagant floor-to-ceiling windows— when you lay eyes on him. Because that’s the effect he’s always had on you, and you feel like an idiot for not already anticipating that familiar cyclone of emotions that hits you whenever he’s in vicinity. 

There he stands, gazing out at the view leisurely spread out at his feet, lax hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers like he has no worries at all. In the perfect world, you could have just an ounce of his self-command, of how assuredly he carries himself. You envy him almost as much as you want him. Almost. 

When he turns away from the glass at the sound of entrance, the sharp angle of his side profile is shadowed by the light pouring in from behind him, portraying him as some magnificent sort of Greek god. And he might as well be, with the way he has directed both torrents of lightning and spelled arrows through your heart. 

You just stand there awkwardly as he steps out of the sun and completely into your vision; you don’t trust that there will ever be a day when you are not so devastatingly floored by his beauty. The buttons of his shirt are haphazardly hooked in a way that seems not so careless, but more effortless, and you have to fight everything in yourself to not stare at the smooth expanse of skin revealed at the top. 

The moment Hyunjin recognizes the intruder of his office as you, his lips erupt into a smile that seems too genuine given the stunt you pulled just a few hours prior. If he carries any disgust towards you as a result of last night’s events, he doesn’t show it. Warmth pools in his eyes like honey, and you find yourself swimming in it, insatiable and begging for more of that lovely taste. You wish you knew how it would feel to have him look at you so sweetly while he harshly fucks into you, a complete juxtaposition to the adoration painting his expression.

“Hey,” you wave your hand lamely, and then immediately mentally punch yourself in the face; you really missed your calling as the awkward main character of a Disney original show. 

“Good morning, darling. I wasn’t expecting you today.” Hyunjin gestures towards the sofa and you hastily sit down on it, whereas Hyunjin elegantly settles himself across from you. 

“I know.” You avert your gaze, feeling the blush creeping up your neck and onto your face. “Last night was, uh, something.”

That’s one fucking way to put it.

Hyunjin lets out a surprised little chuckle, a sound so cute that you have to ponder ways to inconspicuously pinch your arm. “Well, I was talking about how you didn’t have an appointment. But I’m glad that you’re using the walk-in hours.”

“Yeah… so I thought we should maybe talk about what happened,” you stutter out, shifting under Hyunjin’s steady gaze. “I don’t even know where to begin though.”

Hyunjin hums encouragingly. “It’s okay. What do you want to tell me?”

You take a deep breath, thinking back to the previous night. “I’m sorry. I crossed so many lines yesterday and I was too drunk out of my mind to even tell. I must have made you feel so uncomfortable, and that’s the last thing I would ever want to do.”

And you mean every word. You would rather hurtle yourself into the Grand Canyon than hurt Hyunjin, Hyunjin who has been so good to you even when you never deserved it, Hyunjin who you’re hopelessly and utterly in love with. Hyunjin, who you can never have.

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything during that miniscule gap in which you pause, so you take it as a sign to keep going. You’d rather get it off your chest all in one go anyway, as you fear you may not be able to finish if you stop. “I get it if this changes things. If you don’t want to see me anymore.” 

You shut your eyes as soon as you finish speaking, too apprehensive to see his reaction. This is it. This is the part where he agrees and so very politely asks you to leave his office and never come back again. It’ll probably take Wonyoung all of five seconds to boot you out of Hyunjin’s Google calendar, and then Hyunjin will go back to charming the next poor sucker to walk into his office. Gosh, you want to continue being that poor sucker, as pathetic as it is.

“Did you mean any of it?”

Against every fiber of your being telling you not to, to stay in blissful ignorance, you pry your eyes open to see Hyunjin waiting with his arms folded. Something about the intensity of his gaze, coupled with the unexpected potency in his usually soft voice, makes you shift uneasily. 

“I know it was inappropriate. I’m sorry—”

Hyunjin cuts you off, shaking his head in exasperation. “I need you to tell me the truth. Did you mean what you said to me last night?”

You tilt your head down so that you get an eyeful of the plush rug spread under the sofa. Of course you meant everything. You might have been drunk, but the intoxication only brought out the deepest, most hidden parts of yourself; it gave you the courage to manifest what you want the most. But to admit anything to Hyunjin— again— when he clearly did not want any part in it would hurt even more, because this time, you didn’t have alcohol in you to numb the pain of rejection. 

“Why did you leave?”

For a moment, you think that Hyunjin will ignore your question and insist on you giving him a hard answer. Instead, he tentatively reaches his hand out and hooks his thumb and index finger under your chin, carefully angling your head up to meet your eyes. That familiar gentleness once again radiates from him, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from melting into it. In spite of how utterly miserable you feel right now, the telltale flutter of your heart betrays you. God, you want to be his. 

“I left because I didn’t know how much of it was real,” Hyunjin rasps. His words are hushed, but you feel the weight of them, soaked and dripping with both tenderness and hesitation. “I didn’t want you holding my heart when you couldn’t fully feel it in your hands.”

You exhale slowly, trying to ignore the false hope rising like bile in your throat. The way his eyes brighten whenever he sees you. The stolen glances you thought you were imagining all this time. Darling. It can’t be. “Hyunjin… what are you saying?” 

“Do you have feelings for me? Because I do.” Hyunjin purses his lips and slides his palm up to caress your cheek. “I have feelings for you, and I’m so tired of pretending that I don’t.”

“You what?” You search his eyes wildly for any sign of a joke, because you’re unwilling to believe that this is really, truly happening. All of your reasoning feels tightened by this nostalgic lavender haze, a dizzying sense of deja vu pulled from your thoughts. The ones in which you get to call Hyunjin yours. They cannot be real, not in this universe.

He nods bashfully, a pretty new color in his cheeks— a shade that both astounds and confounds you. The cherry lips that you’ve endlessly fantasized about shine red and swollen with how he has so anxiously bitten into them. Hyunjin’s eyes shine in the hazy glow of his sunset lamp, full of feeling and twinkling brighter than any high rise. You’ve never seen him like this, vulnerable and laid bare in front of you. You’ve always been the one to fall apart in front of him, and yet, here he is, surprising you once again. And that’s something that will never change, how he remains the warlock of your wildest dreams and unraveling sanity. 

“I haven’t been the same since we met.” Hyunjin murmurs, softly stroking the side of your face. “And- and after last night, I think I actually might be going crazy. Because maybe it’s not all in my head. Maybe you want me as much as I do. Do you?”

You shake your head, heart fluctuating with every emotion that has ever been registered in your mind. Exhilaration. Doubt. Fear. Devotion. You are so overwhelmingly in love with the man in front of you that it hurts, even when he stands in front of you with his heart in his hands. It hurts, because you know that no matter what, there’s no going back now. You know you can’t leave him alone now; you are completely and utterly his. 

“Hyunjin—”

“Y/N.” Hyunjin pleads, and all you can feel is disappointment at the address. Not darling. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. Just please—”

“Hyunjin.” You cut him off harshly, and he freezes, his arms dropping back to his side. You immediately feel the magnitude of losing his touch on your skin, and it does nothing to tamp down the mix of frustration and arousal inside of you. “Hwang Hyunjin. You drive me absolutely insane.”

There’s a moment of charged silence, before his lips are on yours. When you were younger, you’d spend hours hunched over romance novels and rereading the parts when the leads finally kissed, their repressed emotions finally amalgamating in one stunning, golden moment. But nothing about kissing Hyunjin feels golden; it never did. 

No, it’s an ardent, burning red, a fire blooming in the hands that you use to yank him closer to you, a distance that will always feel unending whenever it’s him. It’s sin, pouring over hot coals and shimmering ore, enchanting yet raw. It’s so perfectly imperfect, wet and frantic, shameless and desperate. It’s rose vines creeping up crumbling brick and the roll of thunder in the middle of the night. It’s you and him and no inhibitions whatsoever, until… 

“Wait, wait, wait.” To your disappointment, Hyunjin pulls back. Even though he was the one who kissed you, you don’t fail to recognize the uncertainty written on his reddened lips. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to block out the nagging thoughts in which Hyunjin has already regretted you. Moving out of his hold, you give him space by backing away. “Is everything okay?”

“I wanted to make sure that you are one-hundred percent okay with this. Like, I drive you insane in a good way, right? Not a bad way? Just checking. Consent is key and all,” Hyunjin breathlessly, letting out a nervous giggle. It’s a display that is shockingly similar to how you act whenever you’re agitated, and you never expected it to be put on by Hyunjin, of all people. It’s… cute. 

You give him a small smile, letting your handbag carelessly slip off your shoulder and onto the rug. You take a tiny step towards him, wrapping your arms around Hyunjin’s slender waist and reveling in how Hyunjin’s breathing quickens, pulse jumping with your touch. Drawing him close to you, just until your lips are barely touching, you look up at him through your eyelashes, focusing on that gorgeous beauty mark under his eye. 

“Hyunjin, is the door locked?”

He just stares at you for a good moment, and you let him, enjoying the way his lips part at your husky tone. “No. I didn’t lock it.”

“Good.” You lift your hand and trace the outline of Hyunjin’s bottom lip with your finger, observing the way he shivers at your touch. “Pay attention, because I’m about to prove to you just how much I like you.”

A blush speckled across his features is all that is needed to induce that familiar urge in you, the one that makes you unreasonably aroused. You want to make him yours, to take care of him and demonstrate to him specifically how insane you are for him. You want to make his wildest dreams come alive, just like he has done for you.

Hyunjin’s eyes flutter shut, a movement so delicate that it almost makes you cry. “Please… just touch me.”

Talking will come, eventually. Both of you will sit down tomorrow morning and establish what exactly this is, what you have done by that point— what you plan to do to Hyunjin now. You’ll find out what this is for Hyunjin— whether this is lust, a brazen act committed in the heat of the moment, or the complete opposite, what you’re too afraid to even think of. Your heart wishes for the latter to be true, for Hyunjin to want you not only as much as you want him, but in the same way as well. Maybe you can’t put it in words, what you feel for him, but you can show him your sincerity in other ways. It’s all you can imagine doing, after Hyunjin has currently rendered you with no other form of thought. Right now, it’s just you and him and a novel of proofs to be written on each other. 

And so you cup his cheek and draw his body closer to yours; this time, you move slowly, every action deliberate, exploring Hyunjin and his depths. Your lips touch his softly, a ghost of longing on skin. In turn, Hyunjin’s hands clutch at yours, silently asking you for more, and you indulge your prince, because there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him.

Hwang Hyunjin tastes like a sunrise, if dawn’s dainty fingertips blessing the sky with a brilliant, fiery spectrum of light could be encapsulated in that sense. Coffee ice cream, spearmint, unadulterated eroticism. Finally, you’ve found the end of your questions. You shut your eyes as Hyunjin slips his hands into your hair, pulling it out of its tight hold and deftly sliding the tiny pink elastic around his wrist. You mirror his actions, carding your fingers through his soft, silky strands and holding onto him as he deepens the kiss. Instinctively, almost, you part your lips, allowing for him to slip his tongue inside and have his own answers.

Hyunjin pulls back from you to look at you directly when he starts to run his trembling hands down over the curve of your hips, the way he regards you full of attention and lust. You are sure that the confidence that you might have projected earlier has diffused into something more unfocused, with the way you already feel so high off of Hyunjin. Taking control has always been something that has come to you easily, until Park Jisung subjugated that part of you. But you don’t mind it right now, Hyunjin taking all of you and turning you into a mess, because this is the very comfort that you’ve been craving for so long.

“Are you sure?” Hyunjin whispers, even though there’s no secret to be kept. He leans down so that his forehead touches your own, in a way that feels too intimate, but at the same time, it makes you want it and more. It’s a genuine question ringing with the slightest hint of hesitation, and yet, you can’t believe he has to ask you; you love him, even though you may not be able to say it, yet. 

“This. This is what you do to me.” You take Hyunjin’s hand into yours and lead it to the place between your legs that’s been begging for his touch since you first laid eyes on him, second to only your heart. Hyunjin’s eyes widen in surprise when you guide his hand under your skirt, pupils dilating in want when he realizes how drenched you are just for him. But his reaction is nothing compared to you, to how you suck in a sharp breath and try not to fall apart with just one touch.

That one sound is enough for his gaze to darken, before he’s gripping your hips like a vice and pushing you against his desk. You let out a small gasp at the roughness of the movement, and even more so at how Hyunjin is finally taking what has always belonged to him, and him only. In response, he captures your bottom lip with his teeth, nipping at you slightly, not enough to cause pain but just enough to have your back arching at the sting of it.

“Did that hurt?” Hyunjin asks you, a smirk painting his features as he drags his lips across your cupid bow ever-so-softly.

You try to hide your blush by rolling your eyes defiantly, fisting the collar of his shirt in your hands. “No, it didn’t.”

Hyunjin laughs as he places one last kiss on the corner of your mouth, before he’s moving to your neck, attentively peppering kisses along it just to garner more proof of the utter pleasure that has pervaded your senses— and he has barely even touched you yet.  

Your hands slide down to the bottom of his shirt and to tug at it, the desperation of the movement mirroring the pulse of your heart. Hyunjin lets you unhook the top few buttons before hastily tearing off the rest of it, the tiny silver knobs scattering across the floor. But you can’t think about the mess now, not when Hyunjin takes your hands in his and runs them down smooth, toned places of his torso. 

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he mutters under his breath, easily untying your blouse with just his right hand, something that shouldn’t be as attractive to you as it is. He pushes it off of your body, the material now a nuisance to the way he begins to explore every inch of skin his lips can find purchase on. 

You decide to help him out, unzipping your skirt to step out of it, kicking it away along with your heels to some forgotten corner of the office. Seeing no point in prolonging your mutual misery, you also reach behind your back and unhook your bra to free your breasts to him, shrugging it off with a smile as you meet Hyunjin’s eyes.

“Do you want to touch me?” You give him a teasing grin, loving the way he audibly gulps when taking in how you’re nearly bare, all for him. 

“I want to fucking ravish you.”

You tense with his words and how his gaze hardens with the challenge, trying to maintain your cocky front. “Let’s see how you do, Dr. Hwang.” 

Hyunjin doesn’t reply immediately, the corner of his lips just barely tipping up. His fingers find the band of your panties, hooking under to pull you forward to him as he guides you to sit on the desk. “I can literally smell how wet you are for me, you know.”

And you nearly come to his words, but he doesn’t give you the chance, hands coyly smoothing up your stomach before gripping your panties on either side and ripping them off your body. Before the lace has even touched the floor, his mouth is on your cunt, blazing hot and wet. 

You gasp, sucking in a shattering breath as his lips move against your pussy as if spelling out letters in the filthiest language known to man. He envelops your clit with his lips in a slight kiss before you feel his tongue delve out, adventuring between your folds and getting his first, full taste of you. Hyunjin moans as he dips into you, blessing your ears with the prettiest sound to grace them, and it seems as if eating you out pleases him just as much as it does for you, if not more.

Hyunjin pulls away momentarily to look at your center, hands wrapping around your thighs and encouraging them even farther apart. Trailing kisses along your shin, he lifts your right leg to place it comfortably on the desk, caging himself between your legs. The sight makes you clench and grasp onto his hair, bringing him right back into you. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out as he pressed his mouth against you once more, relentlessly starving and savouring the taste of you at the same time. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

You moan, taking fistfuls of his soft, soft hair as he fulfills his sinful promises. You can’t think of any good comeback like you would prefer to do, but this position, while compromising, isn’t anything but ideal at this moment. The worlds have coiled in your throat, coming out as broken sobs, and you have effectively gone crazy for Hyunjin.

“So pretty,” he compliments, eyes drinking in your core before softening as they glance up at you. He slides a lone finger inside of you, and you immediately tighten around it, making him chuckle. “You like that? Like my mouth on your cunt? Like how I’m fucking you like this, so slow yet not enough?”

You just whimper in answer, but Hyunjin remains unbothered by your lack of coherent response. “You taste fucking heavenly, by the way.”

And then he pulls his hand away harshly, leaving a stinging slap directly on your aching pussy, immediately rubbing your clit after to lessen the harshness of it. 

“Oh my God—”

He hooks two of fingers inside of you this time, thrusting in and walking the tips of them along your g-spot, making your head go hazy with pleasure. Your breathing hitches as a pressure starts to build in your lower stomach, your walls shamelessly sucking at Hyunjin’s fingers. 

“Mm, you’re going to drench me, aren’t you? You talk up a big storm, but you’re dripping down my hand already.”

Hyunjin’s talk is almost as dangerous as his touch, and he knows it, with how he grins knowingly at you while he so sweetly puts you in your place. He attaches his mouth to your clit, sucks deftly, and moves his entire arm against that one beautiful place, making your legs give out beneath you. 

“Hyunjin, please,” you sob, amazed with how you were even able to form that sorry excuse for a sentence. “I need—”

“Need what?” Hyunjin mocks you, knowing exactly what you want, but he takes his time, playing with you and drawing out this sublime form of torture on your body. “Can’t wait for me to fill you up, yes? So greedy.”

Fuck, you love the way he talks. Measured and polite when fully clothed, but uninhibited and dirty behind closed doors. Your spine straightens as he starts to pump you so hard that you begin to see stars, or maybe just the lights from the buildings outside. You can’t be sure. You begin to arch your back, trying to lessen the intensity of his movements, but he wraps his arm around your hips to hold you down.

He flicks your clit mercilessly, his tongue winding you close to your climax. You mewl his name softly, rolling your hips up towards his face and on his fingers, clenching impossibly tight around him, but he only responds by fucking you harder. Faster. 

You can feel your orgasm approaching in addition to his heightened attention in your blissful facial expressions, watching the way your brows turn up in the middle. 

“Close, aren’t you?” He murmurs against your clit, and you concentrate on his voice, the sole thing you can comprehend past the obliterating pleasure you’re suspended in. You swear he smiles, before he pulls away from you. 

You cry out pathetically at the loss of contact, feeling that tsunami of ecstasy fail to crest and eventually fade back into the shallows, leaving just an unbearable ripple of disturbance behind. You can feel the tears form in your eyes at your interrupted orgasm that was so cruelly taken from you, and you narrow your gaze at Hyunjin. 

“And you’re such a brat, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” Hyunjin responds cheekily, tracing his middle finger slightly against your folds, and you have to grind your teeth to keep from shuddering. “I want you to come on my cock instead.”

You’ve had enough of his games. This is something that you started, and you completely intend to finish it, even if it means not playing by Hyunjin’s twisted rules and making your own board. You dig your nails into Hyunjin’s shoulders, feeling him wince under your touch, and push him back roughly. He collapses onto the couch, looking up at you in wide-eyed surprise. 

“Did you have fun, Hyunjin? I hope you did.” It’s your turn to smirk down at him, all of the explicit thoughts of what you would love to do to him running through your head. “Because we’re going to be doing things my way now.”

Before he can even muster up a retort, you are already straddling him, shifting back to unzip his trousers and shove them down his legs, while he just obediently lifts up his hips to help. All in one go, you get both his pants and boxers off, freeing his length. And he really is so pretty— all of him, down to his cock that’s perfectly hardened for you to use. 

Hyunjin shivers as you experimentally palm his cock, testing how sensitive he is, and you’re pleased with what you discover. “What are you going to do to me?” 

“What do you want me to do to you?” You question him right back, pretending to actually listen to him. Hyunjin takes the bait, relief and desire evident in his features.

“I want you to fuck me with that sweet little pussy,” he responds, the urgency filling his throat making you smile.

“I see.” 

You shrug nonchalantly, gripping him and enjoying the way he gets even harder in your hands. Slowly, you begin to pump him, spitting into your palm and spreading it down his length for better friction. It works, with the way he curses under his breath and looks at you pleadingly. 

“Darling, stop… stop doing that,” he pleads, eyes involuntarily rolling back as you lean forward, pressing your tits together and sliding his dick between them teasingly. 

You cock your head to the side and let your hair fall slightly over your eyes, smiling innocently at him. “Stop doing what, baby?”

“Stop fucking teasing me!” He gasps out, watching you lift yourself just barely onto his cock, holding him at the base and rubbing his tip between your slick folds. Both of you let out soft sighs at the sensation of him nudging your entrance, but you still don’t relent. 

“I don’t know… I kinda like the position we’re in. Think I could get myself off just watching you like this,” you say, lightly circling your hips as you grind your clit on his cock. “Be patient.”

“I’ve been patient for months,” he whines— in any other situation, you’d laugh at how adorable he is if you weren’t so damn turned on right now. He places his arms around your waist, squeezing lightly. “I have to have you.”

You take Hyunjin’s hands and bring them up to rest over your breasts, keeping eye contact with him. As if a trying to placate you by seduction, he traces his fingers over your nipples, sending a jolt through your body; he need not know that you have been wrapped around his finger ever since he pushed you against that desk, and that you’re this close to surrendering to his pleas. You need him.

“Say ‘please’,” you giggle, your cocky façade cracking. After all, you’re endlessly weak for him. 

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, but obliges you anyway. “Please, fuck me.”

You want to have one last word with his attitude, but then his palm cracks hard against your thigh, and your legs give up. Your hips sink fully down onto his lap, and you both cry out at the feeling of being sated in the best possible way. Hyunjin is so deep inside you that you feel like you can barely breathe; yet, your chest rises and falls rapidly, as Hyunjin anchors his hands on your ass, assisting you in riding him.

Hyunjin tilts his head back, the veins along the graceful arch of his neck prominent as your walls pulse around him. Meanwhile, you’re practically shaking at how full he makes you feel, pressed up so deliciously inside of you. You’ll lose your mind if it means you can’t have him like this in every moment for the rest of your life, but it’s an unfortunate truth you’ll have to confront later. For now, you know he’s going to make an absolute mess of you.

“There we go, sweetheart. Use me, take all of what you want from me.” Hyunjin just whispers, guiding the roll of your hips while staring up at you in a way you can’t believe is reserved just for you. Enamored, raptured, and completely captivated. It’s so similar to the way you know you always look at him, that you nearly want to cry at the sight.

You’re breathless, gazing down at the man you love through hazy eyes. Hyunjin always looks beautiful no matter what, but right now, he’s simply breathtaking, with how his hair is so artfully mussed, and how his cheeks are tinged with the blush of pleasure. He’s especially exquisite, knowing that he’s like this just for you.

“F-feel so good, Hyunjin,” you manage, both of you fucking each other at this point— you bouncing on top of him while he fucks into from below with equal energy.

Hyunjin smirks, control coming back to him as you give it up. He licks the pad of his thumb and reaches between you both to rub slow, firm circles on your clit. “Fuck, are you going to come already?” 

In spite of yourself, you shoot him a look that isn’t nearly as sharp as you intended it to be. “You already got me halfway there.”

“Definitely more than halfway— eighty-percent’s more accurate,” Hyunjin responds with haphazardly feigned indignance, before shaking his head and kissing you. He bows his head down to encase your nipple with his lips, gently sucking at the bud while his hand trails over across your chest to grasp and squeeze at your other breast, eliciting a strangled moan from you. “It’s that nice, right? I know, baby. Let go for me.”

And you do. Shattering, fierce, red-hot. You can’t handle the way he’s looking at you, touching you, talking to you. Your toes are numb from how harshly they curl, and your fingers sting from how you dragged them down Hyunjin’s back, hopefully leaving marks for him to smile at later.

“Hyun—” You can’t finish even calling out his name, the attempt fading into something nonsensical. Your eyes water from the intensity of your climax, before nestling into his neck.

But he pulls away to look you in the eye when you come, whimpering hopelessly. “That’s it, let go for me, darling.”

Your vision blurs as your orgasm finally crashes into you, overwhelming and so earth-shatteringly beautiful. Hyunjin’s voice soothes you as he guides you through your high, whispering hushed praises against your skin and doing dangerous things to your heart. A wave of unmatchable euphoria washes over you, but it never passes, like his body is an expert in prolonging the pleasure so intricately. You cannot believe that Hyunjin is real, with the way each time he thrusts into you tips you closer and closer into a never-ending free fall into absolute ecstasy. 

With a soft, drawn out sigh, you finally come, and Hyunjin swears under his breath as you clench around him, your pussy gripping his cock so hard that it almost draws the climax from his body. You find a single ounce of strength in the aftermath, wrapping your arm around Hyunjin’s neck and turning his chin to make him look at you.

“I need you to come for me, Hyunjin,” you say, lips quivering against his.

He groans into your mouth, kissing you deeply. “Where, baby? Tell me where.”

“Inside of me.”

Hyunjin throws his head back, moaning desperately before capturing your mouth in a messy kiss. When he breaks away, a string of saliva connects your lips, and it feels so treacherously erotic. Hyunjin comes while calling your name over and over again, pressing your ass down on his lap as his thrusts become shallower, and more erratic. He rolls his hips a final time, pumping his come as deep as he can into you. And then he slumps against you, panting heavily as he gently lays you back down on the couch to fit you comfortably under the crook of his arm.

You hold each other just like that for a long time, hands clasped together while simply existing in the universe that feels like it is all your own. Hyunjin sighs, kissing you deeply in a way that makes your heart flip. He then pulls back to look down and inspect you, both concern and care written deep in his expression. 

“Are you okay, darling? Was that too much?”

You give him a fucked-out grin, cupping his beautiful face with your palms and reveling in how warm his skin is. “No. That was perfect. You are perfect.”

“I… I’m glad.” Hyunjin blushes and looks away like he’s suddenly tongue-tied, as if he wasn’t moaning the dirtiest things into your mouth just minutes earlier. “I don’t even have the words to describe how I feel about you. You’re… everything, and I won’t ever be able to convey that to you completely.”

Something tells you that he isn’t lying, that he means every word, that this isn’t just some kind of lust-filled one-night stand that’ll merit those awkward, unwanted conversations in the future. Maybe it’s the earnesty in his voice, the pure devotion in his eyes, or maybe, you’ll allow this for yourself, just once. You’ll let yourself be happy, let yourself fall and be caught in his arms. 

“I feel the same way,” you say, feeling the tears of something bittersweet form. “You’re gorgeous, Hyunjin. You know that? I just need you to know that.”

Hyunjin wipes the fresh dampness on your cheeks away with his lips, placing a kiss on your forehead when he’s finished. “We have so much time for you to tell me. We’ll talk tomorrow, baby, I promise. Just rest, for now.”

You sniffle, swiping the backs of your hands over your eyes. “I just wish I was completely sober for our first kiss. I remember it perfectly, but it just had to happen when I was a drunk mess.”

He shakes his head, blinking at you like you make no sense to him. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

“Hyunjin,” you start, heart aching and wistful for his thoughts. It seems like you would want to know everything going on in his mind, but perhaps, the challenge of not knowing and being vulnerable to the mystery, that’s what makes it truly so special.

“I wouldn’t change our first kiss for anything. You were so cute, I should have taken a picture.” Hyunjin smiles down at you fondly, tapping the tip of your nose with his finger. “But if you really want, we can say our first kiss was today.”

You give him a doubtful but adoring look. “That wouldn’t be real.”

Hyunjin shrugs carelessly, nothing but adoration in his tone. “No one has to know except for us. Our lives. Our rules. Our secret. Don’t you trust me?”

Our. You can’t help but feel giddy at that word, the very one that joins you two in the harmony that you’ve yearned for so long. 

“Always.”

Long after the sun has dipped far below the horizon, after every other SeoulSpark employee has gone home for the day, you and Hyunjin lie together on his sofa in a tangle of sated exhaustion. The many hours of finally acting on long pent-up desires have rightfully ended with you drawn close against his chest as you both silently gaze out at the twinkling cityscape. 

For the years that he has been settled in this office, Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel a strange twinge of sadness whenever he looked out at the stretch of towering skyscrapers. After all, he spent all of his time helping others find love, but there he was, left with a great view that he would never be able to share. He told himself that he didn’t mind it, not when his dreams lay solely in working. He would be happy to be the one to bring love to others, if it was never meant to be his. And he repeated it to himself everyday like it was just another mundane step in his cherished daily routine, until he truly started to believe it. 

But how could any of that be true, when he can feel your heartbeat against his own? When the scent of your gardenia shampoo has so gracefully invaded all of his senses? When the moon so delicately traces every single one of your curves, bathing your smooth skin in a silver glow? How could he ever be meant to be alone, when the void in both his heart and arms have finally been filled?

It’s too soon to tell, and it scares the hell out of him to even think about it. But when you look up at him with those starry, radiant eyes, it all seems so worth it, so justified. You are simply the aurora to his night sky— you light him up beyond his own flimsy understanding. Therein lay the words that haven’t strayed from the tip of his tongue ever since he laid his eyes on you. The words he so fervently spelled earlier into your core, joining them with your essence. The words he’ll bite back for as long as he can because he doesn’t want you to leave.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»

AUTHOR'S NOTE (& IMPORTANT WRITING UPDATE) Announcement: Jisungsdaydreamer™ has risen from the dead after, like, four months. I apologize, once again, for the terrible wait time. This was my longest gap in posting yet, because it took a while for me to make the adjustment to college. I'm trying to get back to regularly writing, but even when I don't respond/post on here for a while, I just want you to know that I'm still here, and I see you, and I appreciate you! Anyway, I hope you liked the turning point this chapter was (i.e. THEY FINALLY CONFESSED!!!). Cue the fireworks and doves and wedding music!! Also, I just want to mention Yeonjun being a UCLA student- he is sooo Los Angeles coded, and I could totally see him being one of the most popular students at a school like UCLA. And did anyone get my Jane the Virgin reference (hint: it has to do with the grilled cheese recipe)? I used to be obsessed with that show and I have re-watched to the point that I remember almost all of the dialogue... Another thing- for Hyunjin's outfit at the reunion party, I totally was going for what Jungkook was wearing in the 3D music video. I would actually die if Hyunjin dressed up like that IRL. If you know, you know! You can expect the next chapter to come in mid-to-late December, right after my finals (pray for me) finish. Right now, I anticipate finishing Anti-Romantic by the New Year, so I can move onto finishing my other WIPs. Ideally, I'd like to also make a dent on Love Playlist before 2023 is up, but I'm getting ahead of myself! Here's to Dr. Hwang and designer obsessions and being on that sigma grindset. For the next two weeks, I'll be crying over my textbooks in the library while blasting Rock-Star in my headphones. Here's to getting through what I believe is the worst time of year for students! Stay strong and 樂 on 🎸💫 -Dreamy

TAGLIST @skzfelixlove @army-stay-noel, @hwangjuhong, @chizumiyoshi @hyunjinswifeee @geneziesm @sherryblossom @yeetfellx @bennetbutton @chillseo @hyuneyeon @seosalad @nhyunn @hyunjinnie2000 @ajxreads @n2tl4na @yeahhspider @8makes1scream @jetblackbelle @143hyunes @raginghellfire @sinforsuccubus @lixiesw1fe @chartrucewhore @freckleboilix @ultimatestayandminoronce @cheesytangerine @leyknowsbin @stay278 @strawberry-dreamland @lvrgrl-xo @moasworld @hyunnielix @httphans @chaotic-world-of-the-j @nyasstars @beautifulmusicaddict-blog @imasimplol @1clickawayfrominsane @xsw-void @queen-klarissa @hyunjinsamdl @heavenhannie @moasworld @kykeu @sxlxna @writingkills @boomfrogg @tyongyuta @levislifeline @hyunzerolv @starlost-andfound @browniebearr @hanniemylovelyquokka @ardef38 @loveemmy08 @anyhow-everything @liillii @sweetpickledjins @insertsomethingaboutanimehere @kylielovesu @moon0fthenight

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NETWORK TAG @k-films

©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.

[sometimes-online]

EVERYONE IS HERE!!!!

I wanted to draw everyone's favorite omori au that totally existed before just now! the most popular and beloved omori au! all the ladies and everyone else loves! the best omori au ever everyones favorite omori au ever forever forever everyone loves THE MAVERICK AU omori the bestest au every day its omocats favorite au too probably because everyone loves the maverick and why wouldn't everyone love the maverick omori! this is the best au to ever exist ever the maverick au saved my family from a house fire back in 2006 and changed my life forever It is my greatest creation and my child I am so proud of it that I might never post anything else again because why would i? I could never possibly top THE MAVERICK au omori. This is the masterpeice i want to be remembered for (spoilers for omori and the au below)

It starts with the incident where THE MAVERICK accidentally pushes THE MAVERICK down the stairs. THE MAVERICK is horrified and had seen the whole thing from the bottom of the stairs but luckily took pictures of the whole thing. THE MAVERICK and THE MAVERICK help frame THE MAVERICK's death as a suicide scarring their friends THE MAVERICK, THE MAVERICK, and THE MAVERICK. The trauma from the event causes THE MAVERICK to lock himself inside his house and create a dream world to comfort him while THE MAVERICK has to recover from the incident alone, and their friend group splits apart. the main events of the au happen 4 years later where THE MAVERICK finally goes outside after so long thanks to THE MAVERICK knocking on his door. THE MAVERICK spends the last few days seeing how faraway and his old friends have changed. He has to come to terms with the death of THE MAVERICK and seeing how that death has effected everyone. Eventually THE MAVERICK will have to face THE MAVERICK, the truth, and finally reveal what actually happened during the incident to THE MAVERICK, THE MAVERICK, and THE MAVERICK so that he and THE MAVERICK can finally move on. I drew the real world main cast (THE MAVERICK, THE MAVERICK, THE MAVERICK, THE MAVERICK, THE MAVERICK) and THE MAVERICK's new friend group ( THE MAVERICK, THE MAVERICK, THE MAVERICK, and THE MAVERICK).

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Eren Yeager x reader [ SYNOPSIS ] Eren comes home after a rough night at the bar with Jean. Unable to see him in such a state you decide to tend to his wounds… among other things… I'm talking about his dick. [ WORD COUNT ] 1.8k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, minor injuries, blood, marijuana, alcohol is mentioned, dubcon (Eren's high), biting, sadism, masochism, rough vaginal sex, no plot.

“So what exactly happened?” You asked as Eren trudged through the door of your apartment.

He hung his head, attempting to obscure his battered face. The lengthy sigh he let out filled the room with his exhaustion. You took a few steps closer to him while he dropped his keys on the floor. The metal colliding with the tile flooring destroyed any semblance of serenity once held in your home. You pulled him into a hug and he let out a pleased hum. His arms snaked around your waist and he held you close. The remnants of weed smoke and vetiver cologne filled your nose.

“Jean…” He said, tone dripping with subdued exasperation.

“What did he do?” You asked.

It was so hard to hide your desperate curiosity. You loved hearing about the inner workings of his social circle.

“He was mainlining adios motherfuckers all night.”

“What did he do? Black out and kick your ass?”

Eren chuckled. “You honestly think Jean could kick my ass?”

“Maybe. Jean does look like the kind of guy to hulk out when he drinks.”

“You’re breaking my heart.”

You rubbed his back, each pat radiating affection.

“I’m kidding. Jean could never kick your ass.”

“He could, but it’s fine.” Eren dropped his arms and released you from his grip. “Can I tell you about it while you clean me up?”

You were finally granted a full view of his face. His right cheek was a strawberry scrape and showed the beginnings of a bruise. His bottom lip was split. The blood exuded from the cut had dried, leaving behind a swatch of maroon. What stood out the most was the fresh blood dripping from his right nostril. You took him by the hand and led him into the bathroom. He sat down on the toilet and held his head in his hands, obscuring his face once more.

“Here,” you said, handing him a tissue.

He rolled it up and stuck it up his leaking nose.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, trying in vain to wriggle out of his pants.

You had little desire to see your beloved struggle. You kneeled before him and tugged at the jeans, peeling them off. A happy “phew” flew past his bloodied lip.

You grabbed all your first aid supplies and organized them on the ridge of the sink.

“Gimme the details.”

Eren sighed. “Jean decided to hit on every girl at the bar.”

You prepped a cotton ball with alcohol. “Every girl?”

“Maybe not every single girl, but he hit on every girl that had the shit luck of making eye contact with him.”

“Oh no. He was that guy.”

“Yeah,” he groaned. “The last one he bothered was with her boyfriend on a date. I tried to tell him! But he wouldn’t listen. He was convinced it was because I wanted to fuck her. I even brought you up!”

“Aww!”

Eren ignored your little remark.

“Fuck. And you know what,” he said, tone bristling with repressed rage. “I wasn’t gonna say anything because Jean was drunk and I don’t even care about what that horsefaced shitdick thinks. But fuck it! He thinks you’re too good for me! Did you know that?”

You swiped his cheek with the cotton pad. A little squeak crawled up Eren’s throat as the alcohol came into contact with his scrape.

“Sorry,” you said softly.”

He looked at you with sad, tired puppy dog eyes, red rimmed from the blunt he shared with Historia and Ymir earlier in the evening.

“‘s okay,’ he mumbled.

His posture grew rounder, softer. A chiropractor would likely have a shit fit had they seen such a shoulder slump but not you. No, even with the little info available you were able to surmise Eren’s immense need to decompress. Why pick on him about his posture when he was already battered and bruised?

You suppressed the urge to tease him and crawled into his lap, straddling him. His Grecian body radiated a pleasant warmth. It felt like home. You brushed a few locks of hair away from his face and gave him a quick peck on the forehead.

“I actually wasn’t aware of that. You know why?” You asked.

“Hm?”

“Because it’s not true. I’m definitely shitty enough to be with you.”

“You have such a way with words,” he groaned as you tended to him. “Anyway, the girl’s boyfriend was pissed to say the least and tried to drag Jean outside the bar by his collar. It all happened so fast I—ouch! If I had been a little quicker…” Eren’s voice trailed off.

His viridescent eyes were pinched shut as you dabbed his face with another cotton ball imbibed with alcohol. Your touch, while gentle, felt like hundreds of needles pricking the apple of his cheek. It was a pain you were familiar with. You tried to be gentle yet thorough. Though each muted moan and wince from Eren made your clit pulse.

“Did the guy fight Jean?”

“He tried. But I got in between them. I thought I talked everyone down but out of nowhere the boyfriend must have heard a sleeper word because he ran at me and punched me in the face twice. The last one sent me into the wall which is why my cheek is all scratched up.”

“What a loser. Did you hit him back?”

Eren half-smirked. “No. Too high for that shit. I was more concerned about not breaking my phone and getting home in one piece. When I saw an out, I took off running.”

“Nooooo. What about Jean?”

The brunette giggled. “Just kidding. I took his phone and got him a Lyft. I did have to push him inside it, but I’m sure everything worked out.”

You couldn’t help but think about Jean fighting his way out of the car in desperate search for unsuspecting women to hit on. You snickered at the thought. Eren placed his hands on the small of your back.

“What’re you laughin’ about?”

“Nothing,” you said, rocking your hips slightly.

His green gaze was penetrating. Even the haze of weed and head trauma couldn’t dull it. Eren’s desire took precedence over all. It was an unrelenting force. You stroked his uninjured cheek.

“Does it hurt? Does it ache at all?”

“Yeah, but I think I know what will make it feel better.”

You rolled your eyes. “And what exactly would that be?”

Eren pressed his semi hard cock against your clothed cunt. He rocked his hips a little, eyes fixed on you, awaiting your reaction. You put your hands on his shoulders and slowly dragged them down his chest, his muscles taut against your palms. You smirked, reciprocated the pressure he provided by grinding up against him.

You pressed your lips against his and sucked lightly on his swollen bottom lip. The metallic taste of blood linger on your tongue as Eren let out a pained groan. He pulled away, betrayal fell upon his face.

“Sorry,” you demurred. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Alright, enough of that. Get up.”

You slid off of his body. He stood up and tossed you over his shoulder with a swiftness you didn’t think his stoned self was capable of. He carried you to the bedroom and tossed you onto the bed.

“Undress.”

You laid there, unmoving.

Eren sighed. “Undress… please?”

“‘kay.”

You eagerly stripped off your clothes and presented your naked body to him. He followed your lead and disrobed, leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor.

He crawled onto the bed, his ardor riddled gaze fixed on yours. His cock was tumescent, the tip pink and leaking precum. You longed to tongue the tip and savor the sweetness seeping out. He wrapped his hand around the length of his erection and stroked, leaving it slick and glistening.

You spread your legs and draped your arms over his shoulders and ran your hands down his muscled back, dragging your nails along the way. A pained groan fell from his lips. Your hands stopped on the apex of his ass and dug your fingertips into the delicate flesh.

“Too much?” You whispered in his ear.

“It’s fine,” he replied through a clenched jaw.

You gripped his cheeks harder as he slid his cock into your cunt. Eren’s hunger for pain embedded ecstasy into your existence. His hands roamed your body before one found its way to your swollen clit. His thumb encircled it, applying a hint of pressure as he drove his cock further inside you.

The muscles of Eren’s ass tightened as he bottomed out, his balls slapping up against your writhing body. Your fingers dug deeper into his skin, relishing in every groan that grew from the depths of his throat.

“Does it hurt?”

“Ye—yeah it does.”

“Good,” you growled. “That’s what I want to hear.”

You nipped at his neck and ran your tongue along the length of it. The piquant taste of his sweat dancing across your tastebuds. You wanted to lick him clean, get rid of all the sweat, blood, and stress that afflicted his evening. Eren deserved to be worshiped after the fuckery he waded through… Though he’d have to suffer a bit more.

“Shit!” He cried out as you proceeded to bite him.

Your eyes held an impish glint as he pushed your face away from him. He held you down by the shoulders and thrust into you like you were nothing more than a nameless hole. You missed having his thumb pressing on your clit, but this was nothing to complain about. You were on the verge of coming undone regardless.

“‘Ren—fuck—I’m close.”

Eren was silent, too focused on his cock touching your cervix to respond. You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him gently. He welcomed the tenderness even if it took him by surprise. His hips skipped a beat and a trickle of cum entered your cunt. It felt as if the warmth was traveling through your veins, engulfing every inch of your body. Your breathing labored and you struggled to articulate your needs. You wanted to tell Eren how good his cock felt inside you, how happy you were that he was okay, and how badly you wanted to suck on his split lip.

You cried out his name as he pounded his cock into you, the tip now slamming into your cervix. Your body quivered under the weight of his and you felt as if you were ascending.

Eren held you close as your orgasm peaked, whispering the sweetest of words within your ears.

“That feel good, baby? You deserve it after taking such good care of me.”

“E—even though I made you blee—”

A breathy moan interrupted your sentence much to Eren’s enjoyment. He laughed and pulled his cock out, jerking off and aiming his tip at your stomach. He shut his eyes tight as a stream of pearlescent cum coated your skin. He hopped off the bed and grabbed the shirt he had been wearing previously. He wiped away his mess and gazed lovingly at you.

“I could use a shower. Join me?”

“Y—”

He cut you off. “You don’t have a choice.”

“Why ask me then?”

“... Due diligence?”

“I—I don’t think that’s what that means but… alright.”

[iforgotwhaticalledthis]

Ender Prince Rae AU

Realising that ive never talked about my Ender Prince rae au so here:

in this au, Rae would split off from Icarus a while before the resets started. Probably because he realised Icarus was trying to lead them to the Gilded Kingdom, when he wanted to go to the End(because he believed that was where he could find info on his mom i think?) Rae would make it to the end, Enderian would realise that Rae is her son.

I think she would be very distant at first, but slowly they would have a good relationship and she would speedrun her in canon redemption arc. During this time Icarus would mayhaps come to the realisation "oh fuck im completly alone and i have no idea what happened to my baby brother" and tries to find them. Unfortunately the resets would start, because fable is very much trapped and very much needs to get icarus to focus on releasing him and not focusing on his goddamn brother hes not even important icarus .

This would lead to Fable deleting memories of icarus and rae from each others childhood, leading Rae (and all other related parties) to believe hes always been in the end, and Enderian has always been his mother. While he is in the end, he works on restoring it after the war with Fable- which he pretty much knows all about because Enderian would tell him. He also remembers Isla, because Enderian would tell him. All in all, he knows a lot more about himself and the world then he does in the original canon.

Meanwhile Sherbet, very alone, dealing with quixis, no memory of who they were, only knowing that they have to find their brother. They do not remember anything else about their brother, just that they have one, and they lost him. This leads them to finding everone else in the Original Lodestar Grove, before it even had a name. Everyone who was there in the start of canon, is there.

Back to Rae- hes become close friends with a prisoner that Perix has been 'looking after' (meaning she has to stop her experiments, cause Rae would take notice and tell Enderian giving her another reason to absolutely hate Rae, which she does) -Oh also at some point he has an eye of ender in his head because he realised it would help him see the auras better.- Anyway, hes hangs out with Ghosty a lot(since he cant properly remember his name) Ghosty doesn't really trust him in the beginning, but like they grow closer over time.

This all takes place in the s1 reset, so Rae is unaware of resets as the only person who knows is Perix, and if the world did reset while he was building his friendship with Ghosty, Ghosty would remember so their friendshp only develops in the S1 reset.

Then one day, a new prisoner magivally appears. A certain, pink haired nether hybrid, who, once Rae tells Enderian about, she becomes very interested in.

Theres a lot more to this au, this covers all of the pre-lore bits I believe- i honestly meant to make this a bullet point type list about this au but ended up just kind of narrarating the story, oh well. ANYWAY Enderprince!Rae my beloved, he has been cooking in my head for so long. if you read this far, thank you?? i qrote so much more than i intended.

[earthry]

Mafia Papas (Mafia AU Headcanons)

I couldn’t stop thinking about what if the papas were mafia bosses and maybe the Emeritus family’s territory is so big that they had to split it into four, one for each papa.

tw: mentions of violence and murder, sexual themes and content— just a little spicy, f!reader.

disclaimer: this is all fictional and romanticized, not at all reflective of what actual mafia life/people are like. plus my knowledge is absolutely not accurate this is all just for fun!

Primo

He’s not as hands on as he used to be in his youth— these days his ghouls do more of the work with him controlling the puppet strings behind the scene. You spend your days with him in a lavish estate with a beautiful growing garden that you both tend to.

The area you live in is known to be difficult to grow things, so you often get comments wondering how you managed to make the soil fertile enough. It’s probably all the bodies rotting in the backyard but you don’t tell them that.

Sometimes Primo hosts parties in the courtyard just to watch you flourish, fluttering around as others orbit around you. The life of the party. At the end of the day however he always makes sure everyone knows who you belong to.

“Dolcezza, would you like another glass of wine? Mm, yes you look very beautiful today. Beautiful and all mine, si? Good girl.”

Secondo

More hands on then Primo, works out of a night club as a front. You started as a dancer but now, as Secondo’s lover and beloved, you needn’t worry about anything else. Most nights are spent at Secondo’s side as he chats with business associates and plays cards, either curled against him or nestled in his lap. No one pays any mind to you— they’ve already learned long ago the danger of doing so.

Has a possessive streak and loves to have you wear things of his. Whether it be his jacket or shirt or even a watch, as long as you have something of his he’s usually satisfied. You bring up the subject of maybe getting a tattoo with his name or crest and he’s immediately chubbed up to full mast (good thing it was just the two of you in his office).

You move in to his large condo with large windows and a beautiful view of the cityscape and learn that he has a weakness for making love with you pinned against the windowpane. Whining with need and pleasure as the the neon lights of bustling city below illuminate your form. Laid bare for anyone who might happen to look up.

“Do you like that, tesoro? Do you like knowing the whole world can see you like this for me? I’m the only one who can reduce you to this, cara. No one else.”

Terzo

Loves to flex his power through dramatic appearances and is definitely the kind of monologue for a good hour to his victims before finally getting to business. He often has Omega stand beside him because of how intimidating the ghoul is.

When you first meet him at the coffee shop you work at, you are not impressed and he is immediately smitten. He visits almost every morning and orders drinks for both him and his ghouls for two months straight until you finally agree to a date.

For your first year anniversary Terzo goes all out, booking a cruise to the most exotic places he could think of. Of course you don’t know that 90% of the crew and passengers are linked directly to the mafia. He’d never put you on a cruise full of mostly strangers, it’d be too dangerous.

Loves dressing you in jewels and expensive gowns and showing you off. The two of you definitely have a few matching sets of suits and dresses that compliment each other perfectly.

“Let me help you with that zipper, amore mio. Fuck you’re gorgeous. Can’t wait to take this off you later.”

Copia

Out of all the brothers, he’s definitely seen the most fights. To him, it doesn’t feel right to have his ghouls go out to do the dirty work while he sits behind a desk or goes have fun somewhere else. To him, the mafia is family. While he may be the boss, he treats his members fairly and like equals. He’s earned a lot of loyalty as a result, even from those that may not have been on their side at first.

Out of all his brothers, everyone had expected him to fail because of how timid and anxious he was growing up. He can still be awkward and anxious but when his family’s lives are on the line? When your life is on the line? He’ll show no mercy, no remorse.

He worships you, absolutely adores you. Buys the cutest little house because he knows you’ll love it. There’s plenty of extra room for your rats and for a mafia boss you’ve never seen anyone coo or baby talk animals quite like him.

Nothing gets Copia harder than the idea of you being his little housewife waiting at home for him. It’s the dream he never thought he’d have. Of course, you’re way more than that to him; you have your own job and career too. But whenever he comes home to a home cooked meal and open arms, you’d better expect to eat the food cold cause the first thing he’ll wanna do is rail you again the kitchen counter.

“Fuck that smells good, dolcezza. You’re so good to me, how about you let me be good to you? Let me show you my thanks, si?”

[cursedcola]

Synopsis: After attending NRC, our beloved characters suddenly find themselves transported to your world! The thing is, they have no idea where you are and have to make a life for themselves in the meantime. How would they adapt to life on earth? Characters: Everyone! Mix of Sentient AU! and Modern AU! Warnings: None lol. This is for my own enjoyment. Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasmonia You are here!: Ignihyde

Note: Spoilers for Idia’s background.

Nothing could have prepared the students of NRC for what lied beyond the mirror. A world unlike any of them ever known with magic being virtually non-existent ( or so it appears to the general public). With nothing but the clothes on their backs, falsified basic identification, personal items, and the small bits of knowledge gathered from your vessel Yuu; these young adults have one mission-find the player and stay out of prison. It was time to split up, cover as much ground as possible, and make a life in this unknown world.

Let us see how these fresh minds conform to life on earth, yes?

Ignihyde Residence: Greece!

(I have an obvious bias for this as it is my heritage. No, I don't feel bad about it)

Idia Shroud

Residence: Lipsi, Greece

Owns multiple small properties across the Greek islands. He has a preference for the locations with less tourism and more agricultural life.

Hence why his favorite place to stay is in Lipsi. A small island where at most he has the comfort of seeing the same faces every week when grabbing groceries. His diet has also improved immensely from all the locally produced goods. Well, disregarding all the junk food he sources on his own.

On the island, Idia owns a small "farmhouse" that he built himself. To the average person, it blends in perfectly with the rest of the local homes. He's buried himself deep into the island as well, so his home cannot be found by tourists. No, you physically have to go looking for it.

The outside has the traditional blue and white exterior, but inside? Decked out with the most advanced technological gear. Do NOT underestimate this man's ability to get what he needs. He has his own WIFI service up and running. Everything from the Heating/Cooling system to the stairs that automatically fold inward (to save space) were built and programmed by him. Even his trashcan!

Secluded Island? Check. Best tech? Check. Ortho is happy? Checkaroo. Idia has everything he needs to survive happily.

His house is not the tidiest though. It's not like anyone ever visits him, but still. What if you appear at his door one day? Sucks to suck, because you will be walking over so much sand that he has dragged in yet not cleaned. Also energy drinks, clothes, etc. It's horrible. One time one of the local Yiayia's came to deliver him some baked bread and spanokopita. He nearly had a heart attack when she saw the hovel known as his home and started to lecture him as if he was her own grandson

Something he learned to deal with over time. Ortho was not kidding when he said that Greece values community

Idia wasn't on board with going to Greece in the beginning. Heat? Beaches? Community? Pah. Why couldn't he be placed somewhere more westernized, where he could hide away in a high-rise building somewhere and never come out. If anyone should be surrounded by saltwater it should be the Octavinelle trio - not him!

Which...is exactly why Idia was sent to Greece. Ortho thought this would be the perfect opportunity for his big brother to get out of his shell, and the internet shows that countries in the Mediterranean are highly community oriented! Idia wouldn't be caught dead dancing zorba at a festival or having wine with the local theos and theas as they gossip. But? Perhaps seeing him do his work on the terrace while sipping frappe isn't far out of reach?

Occupation: Software Developer

There is another reason Idia agreed to go to Greece. Out of everyone, he is the best suited to do remote work. The nitty gritty of trying to use technology to locate you. Things that could get him put in jail if caught for privacy violations and data theft. To do this he needs absolute privacy.

He tries to make things quick and track the phone you used to play Twisted Wonderland with. Sadly, life is not that easy and your data is unreachable. Almost like some unspoken force (me. the one writing this) is keeping him from reaching his goal for the sake of their entertainment

There is also the matter of his and Ortho's...'special' features. Crowded places likely will not accept someone with flames for hair. Even if he passes it off as cosplay, what if something is set on fire? Or an idiot tries to touch his hair thinking it is fake? He could be denied access to facilities in highly populated places from the risk. It simply isn't worth it. Not when he can go somewhere tucked away and still be helpful.

Idia blows all tech gurus on earth away. He becomes one of the most sought after hackers, and no one is able to trace his location. To make a living, he only does short-term contract work. He only communicates through warped audio and no one knows of his identity. In all honesty, he becomes filthy rich from the amount of employers throwing contracts at him despite his strict terms. The hush-hush market is strong with this one.

When he first moved into his "farmhouse," he planned on doing his job and never socializing. Food can be ordered in bulk online, and he could pay off one of the locals to leave the packages at his doorstep. He wanted Ortho to stay home with him as well, since the chances of villagers running away and screaming in terror were high. Then the island church would likely get involved and y'know...evil demons yada yada yada because they have pointy teeth and can use their hair to roast a lamb. He watched The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Froyo man convinced him that everyone is close minded.

This does not work out. At all. Unfortunately, people become curious about the new residents that never seem to leave their secluded house to greet their neighbors. It's unheard of! Then they begin to talk, the local children grow curious, and Ortho gets spotted while he's tending to the goat he insisted on keeping as a pet

Surprisingly, they aren't outcasted. The people just view their hair as a weird costume, and label the brothers as interesting foreigners. It's the 21st century, and it takes more than that to frighten someone here. Not the worst outcome? And now they can go walk around the outdoor shops (I.E Ortho drags Idia)

Idia doesn't know when it exactly happened, but he became the island's handy man. It might have been when he installed security cameras for one of the local shops? Anyways, he is always getting requests and accepting them since Ortho insists on being a good neighbor. Yadayada ‘they welcomed us with open arms’ yadayada ‘we have to play nice’ yadayada

Deep down, Idia has begun to like this way of life. He gets is peace, and the people aren't too bad. He becomes a favorite of the elders and is always being sent home with baskets of food whenever he steps into town. It's nice...in moderation

He still dresses very conservatively despite the hot weather, which normally earns him a resounding "what's the matter with you? are you crazy?". He has a large collection of turtle necks, gaming t-shirts, blue jeans, and a singular pair of worn out sneakers. On rare occasions he'll swap the sneakers for sandals (like Birkenstocks) , but that's only if Ortho drags him to walk the coast at night. One of the blacksmiths in the area welds him a metal hairband; which is concerning because don't they think his hair is a costume? He uses it regardless and occasionally ties his hair back.

While living in your world, he takes the opportunity to play all the games you might have experienced growing up. He sources all of the retro systems in attempt to try things that aren't similar to what he sees back in Twisted Wonderland. At one point he notices Ortho start to invite his new friends over. He actually doesn't mind since his brother is beginning to adjust to this new way of living, and he has an entire collection of consoles, board games, etc for them to choose from when hanging out in his home.

It’s easy being in your world. Magicless. It’s boring, but with no magical energy to eat at then his curse is essentially null. Believe it, he has spent so many nights trying to use his magestone with out any luck. Everyone here is equal (at least in being human y’know. No one can fly on a broom) - a normie. He is a normie.

And it’s not as bad as he thought it would be. It’s dull but no one has expectations of him. He can do whatever he wants whenever he wants.

He wonders if things could have different if he was born here. If Ortho…yeah. It’s better that he doesn’t let the thoughts linger or else jealousy might overcome his need to see you. What matters is that his brother has never looked happier than on earth. It’s almost like the boy has found his own family and place (sparking another tinge of jealousy in his older brother)

Over time he becomes less desperate to get off the “forsaken saltwater hell,” and instead hopes that you might be open to letting himself and Ortho stay on earth. With you. As a family.

But not like one of those sickeningly cringeworthy families he’s been forced to see in those telenovas all the yiayia’s watch. Seriously. He is tired of fixing their TVs and getting yelled at if he isn’t on time for their show’s slot on cable

[zerobaselove]

home isn't a place, it's a feeling, and i feel at home with you. | seok matthew

pairing: childhood bestfriend!matthew x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 4.4k

warnings: none! lowercase intended, not proofread

notes: i got a little carried away with this request, but i already had a plan for a childhood friends au with matthew so i morphed them !

you'll never forget the day you moved to the place you considered home; it was a sunny july day. and little 7 year old you was eager to make friends in this new town, and thankfully you didn't have to look very far. that was also the day you met the personification of home, seok matthew.

too young to be much help unpacking, your parents had sent you to play with the boy next door, and you got along like you had been friends since birth. the swing set in the backyard becoming your hangout spot for the next few years. competitions of who could swing higher was a weekly occurrence, even if matthew won every time.

"who wants popsicles?" matthew's mother called out, both of your ears perking up as you looked at each other, a competitive spirit erupting in your tiny bodies.

"i'll race you there," you suggested, getting an eager nod from matthew as you both stood up to get off the swing. "go!" you shouted, laughter erupting from your little chests as the boy exclaimed that you had a head start.

the two of you happily ate your popsicles, sticky fingers and all, sure you hadn't known each other very long at this point; less than a day even. but somehow, in some way, you already knew that this boy was going to be in your life for a long, long time.

the years flew by faster than you would've hoped; the two of you now pushing 13. the once beloved swing set in matthew's backyard had gotten too small for you, your new hangout spot being a hideaway you discovered behind your houses. it wasn't much, but you enjoyed the sense of rebellion that came along with being hidden away, even if you could still see your house through the clearing in the branches.

you didn't know it then, but these would be the years where it all started. your feelings for the boy next door.

everything about being 13 was confusing to you. everyone splitting off into cliques, boys not hanging out with girls, developing bodies, developing feelings. it was all so much information that you just couldn't wrap your head around. but thankfully you weren't doing it alone. you had matthew, like always.

sure, you had friends other than matthew, and he had friends other than you, but nothing and nobody could stop you two from being attached at the hip in one way or another. that's how it always was, and how it'd always be.

"hey y/n, do you wanna come to my birthday party this weekend?" one of your classmates had cheerfully asked, a card in hand with what you assumed were details for the party. you thought for a moment, asking your next question without hesitation.

"i'll have to ask but, can i bring matthew?" your smile had widened so much that your cheeks hurt, all at the mention of your best friend.

the girl laughed, kind eyes turning to crescents. "well he goes where you go, so of course!" she handed you two invitations, one for you and one for matthew.

everyone knew when they saw one of you, the other would be soon following; you were a package deal. going everywhere hand in hand, and you had grown quite fond of the way his hand felt in yours. but you were kids, what did you know, right?

soon enough you were walking across the stage of your 8th grade graduation together, and despite knowing it wasn't the case, you could've sworn you two were the only people in the room that day.

that summer was a strange one, both your nerves for starting a new school, and a new chapter of your lives, had you asking yourself what if? more often than you had liked.

"matthew?" you asked, twiddling with your thumbs as you had both laid across the grass in your backyard. high school had been looming over your mind for the entirety of summer break, and you needed to make sure the high school horror stories didn't happen to you and your best friend.

he hummed in response, turning his head to see you sitting up in the patch of grass, "what's up?"

"just, can we make a promise," you paused before seeing him nod, taking it as confirmation to continue. "i hear so many stories of high school tearing apart friendships, and i don't want that to happen to us. so promise me we won't let that happen, and that we will stay how we are." you rambled on, finally taking a deep breath as your worries had left your lungs.

a smile had spread across his face, "have you met us? nothing could tear us apart, especially not some silly brick building."

"matthew," you sighed, "promise me, please?" it wasn't often that you got serious with your best friend, but he knew when you were serious that it was something that truly worried you, and so he simply extended his hand to you, pinky out.

"pinky promise."

looking back, you were sure you two would've been fine without the naïve promise, but it made all the difference to you at the time. everything was so new and you just needed something safe, and that something was matthew.

freshman year was strange, all of your friends you had grown up with had started pairing off. you weren't sure what it was about the high school air that made people all start coupling off, but you couldn't help but feel a little lonely.

except for the fact that you had matthew.

"hey y/n," the two of you had been in his kitchen after school one day, eating popsicles. it was sort of your thing, just like when you were kids, minus the sticky fingers for the most part. "i have a proposition for you."

you couldn't help but shake your head, "that can't be good," you chuckled, "but sure, what is it?" you tilted your head, awaiting his next words with curiosity.

"if we are still both single at 30, we should get married."

"matthew," you laughed at the serious tone in his voice, "why would we do that." it was his turn to shake his head, as if you were missing out on some very obvious reasons.

"tax benefits, and you know, not dying alone." you suppose he had a good point, and if you were already single and 30, what else did you have to lose. plus you didn't exactly mind the idea of spending your lives together.

he looked expectantly at you as you pondered your options, "let's do it, it'll be our marriage pact." your smile widened as you went to throw out the popsicle stick that you had been chewing on for a couple minutes now.

when you turned around, matthew was standing there, hand outstretched for you to shake, "deal."

sophomore year was more troubling than you thought it would've been. having been asked out for the first time was, weird to you; having never considered the possibility. you didn't even really want to go, but it was a step in the right direction.

you liked to call this the denial phase. the time period where you told yourself you were over your silly childhood crush on your best friend, when you tried to make yourself like some boy in your english class to ignore the way your heart sped up around matthew. it was just a silly childhood crush, at least you thought.

he was always supportive, but especially when the boy in your english class asked you out. he was your number one hype man, helping you pick an outfit; even if you didn't go with what he picked.

"you look beautiful y/n." matthew smiled at you, only a few minutes before you were supposed to leave for this date. you were going on a date and all you could think about was your best friend calling you beautiful.

"thank you," you smiled shyly, attempting one last time to fix your hair in the mirror.

matthew handed you your shoes, helping you get out the door. "i'll be here when you get back and you can tell me all about how it went," he beamed, his smile wide and eyes in the shape of crescents, "have fun! but not too much fun." he wiggled his eyebrows at you, implying things you didn't even want to think about, hitting him on the arm before waving goodbye.

you assumed maybe this night had been a sign to you that you ignored. sure, deep down you know you didn't really like this boy, but you were sure you could've grown to. at least that's what you tried to convince yourself as you waited at the arcade entrance for him.

and you waited, and waited, and waited.

he had stood you up. he asked you out and he stood you up. you'd think that because you didn't even really want to go that it wouldn't hurt when he didn't show up. but it hurt. it hurt like hell. and there was only one person who could've fixed that.

you fished your phone out of your back pocket, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to spill. don't cry, not in public. you repeated to yourself as your phone rang.

"i didn't expect to hear from you so early, is it going okay?" his sweet voice ringing through the speakers was the final straw, a loud sob erupting from your chest as you tried to find somewhere more secluded in the mall to have your meltdown. "hey hey hey, what's wrong? what did he do?" matthew questioned, worry lacing his voice as he was already getting up to come get you.

"he didn't do anything," a sniffle interrupted your thought, "that's the problem. he didn't show up."

you felt silly crying to your best friend over the phone, but here you were, his voice pulling you from your own thoughts. "i'm almost there okay? are you still near the arcade?" you only hummed in response and that was enough for him.

he kept you on the phone the whole time, comforting you in the best way he could until he could come hold you and let you cry.

you had decided to meet him at the front door, seeing him walk up made everything okay, almost. "aren't you glad you live close to the mall," he called out, getting a light laugh out of you before he grabbed your hand, holding it the whole walk home.

this was the night you realized you loved him. not just as friends, as more than that. the moment he held your hand it had all flooded to you. you remember the feeling like it was yesterday; though that was partially due to the way it still happened every time he got near you now. but that wasn't the point.

the night he held you till you had no more tears left to cry, held you in his arms in your bed and let you ramble about everything going on in your head, well, almost everything. you didn't dare mention the way you wanted to stay with him like this forever.

at some point you had fallen asleep in his arms, at least that's what he's told you. you only remember waking up tucked into bed with your jeans still sticking to your body and matthew fast asleep on the other side of the bed. and even now you can't help but have that memory swirl around in your brain. he stayed.

a few months later you had found yourself sitting on your bed with matthew, faint music playing as you both just basked in the comfortable silence.

you loved that you could always do that with him. there were times where you just wanted to enjoy his presence, and you could do that without it being awkward. just knowing he was there was enough for you.

some people would call this moment the calm before the storm, before everything in your brain changed into a messy tornado of emotions.

"you know," matthew started, sitting up to face you, mirroring his actions as soon as you noticed the motion. "we both haven't had our first kiss yet, and we are getting older." your brain tried incessantly to figure out where he was going with this, every answer causing your heart to speed up faster than you would've liked. it seemed matthew could sense your curiosity eating you alive as he quickly spit his thought out.

"they say your first kiss should be with someone special to you, and you're special to me, so maybe we should try it. you know, just to see what it's like."

you were sure he could hear your heart beating out of your chest at the suggestion. sure, he had a point; you'd never have to worry about wasting your first kiss on some stupid guy you'd never talk to again. and sure, it'd be nice having it with someone you're comfortable around in case you mess up. but what he wasn't accounting for was that for you, that person doubled as your crush, and you weren't sure what to do with that. but it seems your mouth works faster than your brain.

"let's do it." you blurted out, against your own better judgement. desperate to try and sav your sanity a little, you let one more thought spill. a condition. "it's just to say we've done it though, right? we can just forget about it after and we won't bring it up again, yeah?" you asked, knowing damn well you were lying through your teeth.

if this did happen, you were sure the experience would live in your brain forever, there was no "just forgetting about it." but regardless, matthew nodded as he inched closer to you on the bed, his face coming closer before you shut your eyes, letting your lips connect.

it was clumsy, you couldn't lie. but in retrospect, it really could've been worse, and you wouldn't have had it any other way. the feeling of his lips on yours, noses bumping and all, was one that had stuck with you all these years later. you couldn't forget about it, and you often wondered if he did.

a couple years later he had asked you out to prom; as friends of course, but you couldn't stop your heart from beating out of your chest at the thought. it may not have been as partners but just knowing he was there with you and nobody else that night really made your heart to flips and the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

the days and weeks approaching prom were nerve-wracking to say the least. obviously you wanted to look good because it was prom, but you were going with matthew, you had to look your best.

he had done everything right that night, everything you were sure a boyfriend would've, not that you had anything to compare him to.

"may i have this dance," he smiled, outstretching his hand as a slow tune played from the speakers. you almost couldn't hear him over the sound of your own heartbeat mixing with the chatter from the other students, but you took his hand without a second thought.

"this is nice," you muttered, just loud enough for only the two of you to hear. "tonight has been amazing, thank you matthew."

his ever so contagious smile had appeared again, "there's nobody i'd have rather experienced it with." his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you in a bit closer, allowing your head to rest on his shoulder for a moment. "i'd do anything with you by my side."

maybe it was because the end of your teenage years had been quickly approaching, but matthew had become more and more sentimental, and it had done terrible things to your heart, terrible things that you never wanted to stop.

to no surprise to anyone around you, the two of you had even gotten accepted into the same college, which made the idea of graduating soon not seem so daunting. which was good, because the day had approached faster than you were expecting.

"we did it!" you cheered, standing with you and matthew's families after the ceremony.

he grabbed your hands, shaking them around a bit as you two freaked out, "we graduated!"

the small celebration was quickly interrupted by matthew's father calling you both over for group photos before getting some with just your own. with excitement and adrenaline high, you couldn't help but smile until your cheeks hurt.

you don't remember much else from that day other then going out to dinner with both your parents and the seok's. but it was amazing. and you and matthew had stayed true to your promise. you didn't let some silly brick building, as he called it, tear you apart like you had watched it do to countless other friendships.

you were in this for life.

and that's how you ended up where you were now, winter break of your freshman year of college. sure, the courses and workload was an adjustment to get used to, and the overall atmosphere was different than you had expected, but you and matthew had always made time for each other even with his new found popularity in college.

he had truly blossomed in college; you tried not to think about it too much, the way he had grown into himself, finding his style and learning how to do his hair. it was great for him you were sure, but horrible for you. when did he start looking like that?

to make matters worse, a lot of people in your new friend circles had assumed you were dating until you told them otherwise. what were you supposed to do with that information. as much as you wish that was true, it just wasn't the case. but that was okay, because you still had him in your life, and he was still your best friend.

your best friend who you held hands with, and went on cute platonic dates with. your best friend who knew you better than you knew yourself. your best friend that you had an unwavering crush on.

that was all. no big deal.

as if saved by the bell, your phone had started ringing before you could get too into your own head, reaching into your back pocket you saw the name flashed across the screen; maechu.

"hi, are you still coming over?" you asked, your smile audible through the phone.

"of course i am, i was just calling to tell you to unlock your door because apparently you can't hear when i knock." he laughed, seeing you approach the door through the window.

you opened the door with a sheepish grin on your face, muttering an apology before letting him in. you had been so caught up in your own head that you didn't even notice the box in his hand until you had made it upstairs to your room. "matthew, you didn't have to."

he shook his head and smiled, handing the gift to you. "i wanted to, and it's nothing fancy don't worry." you placed the gift down on your bed for a moment, walking over to your closet to grab a nicely wrapped gift from the shelf, handing it to the boy in return.

"i thought we agreed we weren't doing gifts this year." a chuckle left his mouth as he glanced between the gift in his hands and the gift on your bed.

a smile spread across your face, realizing once again just how similar you two were; but you supposed being attached at the hip for the majority of your life would do that. "we did, but here we are."

you quickly urged him to open his gift, watching the way his face lit up at the matching bracelets, the date you had moved in, and subsequently met, was engraved on the inside of the band. he couldn't help but tear up, pulling you into a tight hug. "i love it, thank you" he mumbled into your hair before pulling away, grabbing one out of the box, "help me put it on."

and so you did, securing the clasp around his wrist before he reached into the box and grabbed the other one, taking a hold of your hand to return the favor. you tried not to but your heart sped up at the action, even if it was just him doing something nice, which is what he was known for doing.

"okay now," he started, making sure the bracelet was secure on your wrist, "your turn to open your gift."

you hesitantly grabbed the box off of your bed, not having any clue what it could be. tearing through the messily strewn together paper and tape, you were met with a box, looking to matthew in curiosity only for him to urge you to continue.

when you took the lid off, the sides of the box collapsed, revealing pictures of you from when you were kids up until graduation on layers of colorful paper and stickers. in the middle of it all was another, smaller box. lifting the lid off you revealed a cute charm of your favorite character attached to a keychain of a spotify code.

"it's a playlist i made for you," he couldn't contain the smile on his face at your excitement over the gift. "plus it's on a keychain so even when we are busy, you'll always have something to remind you of me with you."

you couldn't help the tears pooling at your eyes, or the words threatening to spill. "god, i love you." you breathed out, your stomach doing flips at the confession.

"i love you too y/n." he smiled, a little taken aback by the confession as it wasn't something you two said lightly.

you sighed, "no matthew, i love you. more than i should as your best friend." it took him a moment to realize what you were implying but once he connected the dots, it hit him like a truck, pulling you in for a hug as he picked you up off the floor.

you let out a giggle at the sudden action, not even thinking about what it could mean until he set you down and you noticed the way his cheeks had flushed a deep crimson red.

"i'll say it again, i love you too y/n."

your eyes practically popped out of your head at the confession, questioning if you heard him right, or if this was all some crazy realistic dream but when you felt his arms wrap around your waist again, you knew this had to be real.

"you have no idea how long i've been waiting for this," you breathed out, trying not to cry from relief. all these years of pining after your best friend had actually been worth it. "it's been eating me alive."

pulling apart, matthew dragged you down to sit with you on the bed, moving the box over onto the floor where you weren't going to accidentally step on it. "i could say the same," he smiled, moving his hand to your knee where he rubbed circles with his thumb.

"i'm sure i've got you beat," you laughed, a little embarrassed by just how long you'd been feeling like this, causing him to quirk his brow at you, curious if you really did. "you're not getting it out of me, at least not till you tell me." you toyed, hoping he would agree.

"remember the night that guy stood you up in high school? that night is when it hit me like a truck, looking back i think i liked you longer than that but i realized it then."

in all honesty, that was way longer than you had expected, and it made you a little giddy to think that the last few years, he had been feeling the same way you had, and that maybe you weren't overthinking every time he held your hand or played with your hair to help you fall asleep.

"now you tell me." he tried to be as convincing as possible only to have you shake your head, insisting it was too embarrassing to tell him. "c'mon~ i told you, it's only fair." you simply let out a sigh, taking a deep breath to psych yourself up.

"i think it started when we were about 13," you pondered for a moment, but it really hit me around the same time it hit you, sophomore year."

"you're telling me you could've been mine since sophomore year?" he questioned in disbelief, feeling like he had missed so many opportunities up until this point due to being too afraid of rejection.

the blush that made it's way to your face at his realization could only be described as burning hot. you had no idea what to do with all the emotions bubbling in your chest, except for one thing. "i could be yours now." you suggested, looking down at your hands, being to shy to look him in the eye.

"i wouldn't have it any other way," he lifted your chin to look at him, "now pardon me if i'm overstepping, but i think we need a redo on that first kiss."

you nodded feverishly, causing him to chuckle before bringing your lips to his. this kiss was unlike your first one with him, your first in general. it wasn't clumsy, instead filled with a feeling of longing and desire; the kiss deepening as you let your lips part, only pulling apart when you needed air.

the feeling in your chest seeing his hair tousled, cheeks red and lips a little swollen was one you were sure you'd never get tired of, especially not when you were the reason.

"so," he paused, bringing his fingers up to feel his lips and memorize the feeling of his lips on yours, "is that marriage pact off?"

you smacked his arm, both letting out a chuckle at the memory of when you were 13 years old in his kitchen. "only if it means i'll be with you."

and that was it, you were here sitting at home, with the person who makes you feel at home anywhere; your best friend, and now boyfriend, seok matthew.

[wanderingthinks]

AU RAMBLE!

After MONTHS OF NON-CREATIVENESS, I AM BACK WITH ANOTHER AU.

//Please note that I unfortunately have not yet watched Hazbin Hotel as a series and am working with the information I had beforehand, so the lore given may not be accurate and may be edited after//

Ramblings as I lose my braincells:-

So, AU idea.

Lucifer darling has amnesia. That is, forgetting things temporarily or entirely.

Plus, he’s delusional. He hallucinates about things. My guy is so hurt by the past that he mentally shut down to protect himself. And his daughter, Charlie.

All his memories are just pieces of a puzzle that don’t come together. He’s seen it before, HE’S BEEN THERE BEFORE. Then why can’t he remember���? He can’t remember where it happened, why it happened.

With such little information, you can imagine what would happen.

Let’s brainstorm some things up.

SO, Lucifer was one of Heaven’s most beloved angels. He has several other brothers and sisters in Heaven. He fell because he taught humans to ‘sin’. He gave them the apple of knowledge, of free will. He fell because he loved a human; Lilith. Lucifer fell from Heaven because he gave the apple to Eve. That is, Roo; Root of All Evil. He gave the apple to Adam first. He refused so he turned to Eve.  He's eventually left with the guilt of having failed humanity.

Lucifer lost everything. His daughter, his love, his heaven [pun intended].

So, what does he do?

He pushes his family away. While he’s left to his deteriorating mental wellbeing. BY HIMSELF. 

So let’s see what can happen if we just make this situation a little…worse.

Rough storyline below cut!

Charlie calls. He does not pick up. She leaves a voicemail for him explaining that she needs help with heaven. One or two days later, he reluctantly goes to her hotel. Everything plays out, well and good. But he does not agree with her idea. He says that “Heaven never listens. They didn’t listen to me, and they won’t listen to you.” Therefore, further solidifying his grudge against heaven and its ways.  Time skip to Extermination Day. Adam attacks the hotel. Everyone is in grave danger. Skip to Charlie’s point of view. Mentally and emotionally drained, she misses him by a split second and Adam gets the chance to make her lose her breath. Vaggie dies in the rubble, shortly after witnessing Charlie's death with teary vision. Angel, Husk, Niffty, all the demons are held hostage for the exterminator’s sadistic enjoyment. Angels win. Lucifer stays in his office by himself. The extermination was being broadcasted live on TV. Through that, Lucifer gets a head-on view of his dead daughter with the last remnants of her life staining her face in the form of tears.  He loses himself at that sight. He goes down to the battle field and finishes off each of the exterminators he could see. Adam and only a lucky few manage to escape. Unknowingly enough, he (nearly) kills Husk when he’s in his rage.  Angel and Niffty rush inside the hotel with a bleeding Husk in their hands. Trembling, cowering in fear under the reception Desk while Lucifer is outside. Once he calms down enough to feel the weight of the situation, he turns to his beloved daughter, one who he loved dearly and sacrificed everything for, now lying on the ground among the rubble with a tearful expression on her features. He gently picks her up and sobs. Sobs and sobs, wailing and crying as he blamed himself for her unforeseen fate. Angel tries to approach him but is met with a cold order to ‘stay away’. With a gentle stroke over Charlie’s hair, her body disappears, now nowhere to be seen. “Stay away sinner.” Another sentence, another threat. Angel stumbles back, staring at the fallen angel with fear and dread. For the once cheerful and jolly one had turned to an emotionless puppeteer.  He’s going to make Heaven pay for everything now. And he won’t hold onto morality anymore.

So, in conclusion, Angel, Niffty, Cherri, Alastor and Husker are left to take the story further along with Lucifer. Plus Heaven and its angels ofc.

Feedback appreciated!

@hahskeleton @chongkychonk @bapple117

EDIT: This AU is now officially called 'Plight of the Fallen Angel'

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

What do the M6 spent an exorbitant amount of money on? So much so that it could be considered an addiction? (Doesn't need to be expenses related to the MC, but could be.) I feel like for Lucio it would be Furry Comissions (regardless of whether or not you want to set the hc's in a modern AU or the regular story).

The Arcana HCs: M6 and their shopping weaknesses

~ a request from my wonderful fantastic mutual @helshollowhalls ? Anything for you, friend! Enjoy the madness - brainrot ~

Depending on how the two of you like to split your duties, it may be more or less frequent for you or your beloved to shop alone. Most of the time you don't have to worry too much, they're an adult! They know what they're doing.

Until they creep into your shared quarters one evening, oozing both excitement and guilt as they hide the results of their errands behind the door. "MC, you wouldn't believe what I saw for sale in the market today."

Julian

He's standing almost like a soldier, chest bared and feet braced for your reaction, arms folded under his cape behind his back

"What did you buy, Julian?"

He's not ready to answer your question. "I have it in good faith that it may one day prove essential to saving someone's life."

He's really getting into character now, and you're beginning to worry

"What did you buy, Julian?"

"A rare instrument necessary to my practice! A scientific breakthrough! Behold!"

And with a grand flourish, he pulls out a feat of engineering that seems to be an obscure medical instrument. Fair enough

"So what does it do?"

You watch him deflate like one of those car dealership tube men at the end of the day

"... I don't know."

"And how much did you spend on it?"

He clutches it to his chest protectively. "Does it matter? I'll figure out a way to use it eventually! Maybe it pairs well with leeches!"

Asra

You can't tell if they're grinning or grimacing, but their dimples are out and they're almost sparkling with excitement

"They had so many options, MC. I've never even heard of most of them before!"

He can see your eyes widening as Faust tips over the duffle-sized bag behind the door, slithering over the piles of packages that pour out across the floor

"How much did you spend, Asra!?"

"Not as much as I could have, and only my own money. They had sample packs!"

Now that their secret is out, they're excitedly unwrapping every bundle and disappearing in a mountain of paper and twine

Faust seeks refuge on your shoulder and the sheer diversity of smells filling the room are making both of you a little dizzy

Small bottles of perfumed oil, tiny pots of lotion, mini candles and twigs of incense cover every surface of the room

All the candles and incense are lit. Every tester is being applied in random patchwork

He got over 50 new scents and he is thriving

Nadia

She feels a little guilty for going without you, but she's so excited to have been part of your world like this

She went to the central marketplace

And she got everything suggested to her

Because who would know better than the people selling what she needed to get?

Two menservants are bringing in the multiple bags she brought back in the carriage while she goes over each thing with you, excitedly repeating their sales pitches

She's halfway through the second bag, telling you all about her new gilded mop holder when you finally interrupt

"Nadia, my love. How many things did you get?" You're holding your breath, hoping the question doesn't burst her bubble

"Oh, nothing extravagant. You should see the shipments that come in for palace events! We'll go back together, my darling, and we can do a proper shopping trip then."

You do go back together, and this time you steer clear of the salesmen taking advantage of her inexperience

Muriel

He's peeking around the door of the hut, and you can tell by the set of his eyebrows that he is embarrassed and has no regrets

You smile up at him, walking over to greet him after his trip into town

And the door swings a little further open to reveal his cloak, stuffed to the brim with something that keeps cheeping

He's got the squirming mass wrapped protectively in his arms, slowly kneeling to lower it to the ground

And from the depths of his clothing burst a tidal wave of baby chicks, spreading out to cover the yard and sending the chickens already present into a ruffle of squawks

"Muriel, how many are there?!"

" ... twenty-four. The pet shop had them with the kittens and puppies and," he pauses to peek at your face, "chickens are different. They wouldn't be happy in the city."

The ground is yellow. Inanna has turned into a sulky, wolf shaped jungle gymn. Muriel watches quietly. "Did I do the right thing?"

"Yes. But they are your responsibility."

Portia

You see the way Pepi perks up and Portia moves to guard the giant paper bags she's holding, and that's how you know it's food

You pick Pepi up to protect the goods and take a closer look. The two bags are each nearly the size of your beloved's torso

"Portia, what small army are we feeding!?"

She drops them on the table, flicks a stray crumb from her sleeve, and deflects Pepi's swipe at the pastry that tumbles out

"Ok so don't be mad, I may have overspent just a teeny little bit, but she was a traveling baker from up north! And I had to try some!"

"And then?"

"And then we started talking about baking, and she gave me a discount so I tried one of everything, but I didn't want you to miss out so I got two more of everything for us to eat together!"

You're not sure what to say. It's a lot of food

You end up inviting the Palace bakers to enjoy it with you (they'll be able to really appreciate the technique) and eating lentil stew for the rest of the week

Lucio

You're having flashbacks while he fidgets in the doorway. This used to happen every time you let him do the shopping alone

In his defense, nobody ever taught him to budget. His job was to hunt his food or eat his rations until the old Count took him in

But you two have been working on it together, and he's gotten pretty good at making and sticking to a list and limit

Which can only mean one thing:

"It was so shiny, MC. I know I made an oopsie, but look at it! It goes on my arm!"

It's a jewelry piece that he's clipped to the grooves on his gauntlet. It's not that big, so you can't see how it's an oopsie unless ...

"Is that an emerald? Is that real gold!?"

He nods excitedly. "Don't feel bad, MC, I got you one too! Now we match!"

It's beautiful, but, "Lucio, where did you get the money for this?"

"Next week's budget." He sees your face and grabs your hands. "But don't worry! I did the math, and I already found a job to cover it."

This man is going to be the death of you

[sevens-evan]

okay, so, 30 (tourist/knowledgeable local au) go go go

this turned into tourist/park ranger au and is heavily/entirely based on a hike i went on in arches national park years and years ago. slot canyons my beloved. please reblog if ya like it!

“Alright?”

“Great,” Ava says, trying not to look down into the canyon between her feet and the rest of the hiking trail. It’s maybe two feet wide and a long way down. Beatrice holds her hand out over the gap, and Ava takes it. She doesn’t even try not to enjoy the warmth of Beatrice’s hand or the callouses on her palm. Thirsting after her park ranger guide on a group hike definitely isn’t the highest point of Ava’s life, but it’s not the lowest, either, and she’s refusing to feel shame about it. It’s not her fault that Beatrice somehow makes a park ranger uniform look good. It should be impossible, between the pleated trousers and the baggy grey shirt and the stupid, stupid, stupid hat, but Ranger Beatrice is doing it. Ava has been at the front of the pack through the whole hike, throwing in an occasional glance at the shape of Beatrice’s arms beneath the short sleeves of her shirt amongst the views of slot canyons and rocky vistas.

“Ma’am?”

Ava blinks. She’s still holding onto Beatrice’s hand, and has yet to take the step over the canyon before her.

“Ava,” Ava says. “Ma’am was my mother.” She makes a face. What did she just say?

“Ava,” Beatrice says. Oh, Ava likes that. She really likes that, the way Beatrice’s accent turns over the second a in her name. “Just one step. The more you look down the worse it seems.”

“For sure.” Ava decides to let Beatrice think she’s afraid of heights. At least for now. She’s getting, like, major gay vibes, so maybe she can correct that misunderstanding at a later date.

Ava takes the step.

“One small step for Ava, right?” Ava says, looking up from her hiking boots to grin at Beatrice. Beatrice smiles back at her, which is just—devastating. Ava will never be the same.

“One giant leap for Ava-kind,” Beatrice agrees. She squeezes Ava’s hand before she lets it go, and Ava has to clench her jaw shut to keep from doing something embarrassing like asking her to do it again. Or moaning.

They follow the trail as a group as it narrows between two rock walls, then widens again, letting them out into a sort of split in the side of the solid rock hill, rock faces soaring a dozen feet high on either side of them. It affords them an incredible view of the desert out beneath them, sand and rocks and hills. Beatrice stops near the far end of the open space, turning and waiting as the hiking tour group files in behind her.

“Everyone doing alright?” Beatrice says. Ava watches as she does a quick headcount, following along with the numbers Beatrice mouths. If that involves staring at her lips, well, Beatrice probably can’t tell. Beatrice nods a moment later, apparently satisfied with the number of hikers gathered before her.

“This is my favorite spot in the entire park,” Beatrice says. “If you’ll all entertain it a moment, I’d like to tell you why.”

“Go for it,” Ava says. She’s the only person in the group to speak aloud. Beatrice glances at her, and Ava refuses to be embarrassed, offering an encouraging grin.

“Well, if Ava approves,” Beatrice says with a smile. She reaches up and takes off her hat. Several strands of brown hair have escaped their neat bun, and she brushes them back with one hand while the other holds her hat against her side. “My first summer in the park, I was cleaning cabins. I graduated college and lost contact with my entire family not long afterwards. It was a very difficult and confusing time in my life. I thought that I had made a mistake in coming to the US. I thought that I had made a mistake by coming here. I thought that I was in the wrong, that it was my fault somehow that my parents weren’t accepting of me. That it was my fault I was different.”

Gay, gay, super gay, totally gay. Ava agrees with the voice in her head and then tells it to shut up. There’s a rehearsed quality to Beatrice’s voice—Ava suspects she gives this speech on every one of these hikes—but there’s something genuine in it, too, and Ava wants to listen.

“One day towards the end of July—the hottest day I’d ever experienced up til then, being from England,” Beatrice says, “a friend I’d made, a ranger, took me up here. She sat me down and told me to talk to the desert, and ask it if I’d made a mistake. And then she went back up the canyon to give me some privacy. I sat here for ten minutes before I finally did it. The desert did not answer.” A ripple of quiet laughter goes around the group. Ava doesn’t join in. She’s transfixed by the look on Beatrice’s face, a little half-smile that Ava wants to stare at forever. “But on the hike back out I found a tarantula on my backpack.”

“And that made you want to stay?” Ava says. Beatrice glances at her.

“The tarantulas are a very important part of the ecosystem, Ava,” Beatrice says. Ava shuts her mouth and busies herself with the lid of her water bottle. “But yes, it did. It felt like…the desert was calling me stupid for even asking. What does a bunch of sand and rock care if I’m here or not? Have a spider for your troubles, you idiot.” More laughter, and Beatrice laughs quietly at herself this time. “But the people do care. My friend cared to take me here and show me all that sand and rock. And I care to show it to all of you. It’s my job, yes, but it’s only my job because it matters to me. And I hope that it matters to all of you.” She takes a deep breath and puts her hat back on.

“So,” she says. “On the way down the hill, if you want to, I hope that you’ll all ask the desert a question. Doesn’t have to be out loud, don’t worry. The sand won’t hear you either way. And I can’t promise you a tarantula, although some of you may be grateful for that”—no fucking kidding—“but I can promise that the desert won’t answer. And I can promise that that will be more comforting than it sounds.” Beatrice pauses for a moment. Ava might be in love with her. “Are we all ready to start?” There’s a general murmur of assent, and Beatrice turns away from the group, leading them towards the trail out of the split in the rock and down the hill. Ava hurries to catch up to her.

“So,” she says as she draws up shoulder-to-shoulder to Beatrice. Beatrice looks over at her. “Quite the story.”

“I suppose.”

“All true?”

“Of course.” Beatrice shakes her head slightly, amused and scandalized by the idea of lying.

“Got any more stories you’d like to share?” Ava says. “Maybe over a beer or something?” Beatrice is silent for long enough that Ava’s rapid, anticipatory heartbeat turns worried and even faster. “That can be my question for the desert,” Ava says. “If you want. Don’t want. Whatever.”

“Asking the desert to have a drink with you,” Beatrice says. “How unconventional.” Ava shrugs.

“I’m not really the conventional type.”

“No?” Ava shakes her head. Beatrice looks down the trail. “I’m done for the day after this tour,” she says. “There’s not many bars worth visiting around here, but if you’d like to come by my cabin, I make an acceptable gin and tonic.”

“High praise,” Ava says. “There’s literally two things in that drink.”

“Three,” Beatrice says. “There’s lime.” She pauses. “Four. And ice.”

“Sold on the ice,” Ava says. “How the fuck do you do this hike in July?” Beatrice laughs, a sharp, abrupt noise, like it’s been startled out of her. Ava’s hands clench into fists at her sides, trying to catch it in her fingertips.

“You get used to it,” Beatrice says. “Now watch where you’re going. You’ve been missing all the views staring at me.” Ava flushes pink at being caught, but she obeys, turning her head and watching the desert stretch out before her.

[cain-speaks]

🍑 𝘼 𝙎𝙄𝙈𝙋𝙇𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙐𝙍-𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝘽𝙊𝙔 🍑|| Wukong's Mom AU

» russian girl (jenia lubich) « 0:53 ──〇──── 2:36

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ AUTHOR'S NOTE ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝ ➤ This is a oneshot involving @journey-to-the-au's Clover + Marshal Liu! ➤ This is hurt/comfort. ➤ death to SEM bro. ➤ TRIGGER WARNINGS include angst, hurt/comfort, self-deprication, minor injury, referenced identity theft, referenced framing, and referenced manipulation. ➤ Word count: 1,372

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

❝ I am just a simple russian girl, I've got vodka in my blood .❞

The guards are none too gentle as they throw the boy into the holding cell, making him cry out as his skin splits on rough stone. The pain is immediate, proving to him that what's happening is real—that the mighty troop of Huāguǒshān truly believes Clover poisoned their beloved King.

"W-Wait!" Clover cries, righting himself as quickly as he can. "Wait, please—!"

He reaches out to the guards, faces that had once looked on him with kindness and friendliness, only to recoil when one snaps at him, long fangs bared threatening. The boy, unfamiliar with such displays, especially from anyone on the mountain, tucks his arms close to his chest and scrambles backwards until he's pressed firmly against the wall. But even as he's out of reach of fang or claw, he can't escape their eyes.

Wrath, regret, disappoinment. Did he prove them wrong? Or prove some of them right?

"You're lucky it's us that were ordered to escort you and not Xīnshù," a mousey brown-grey male—Cypress—spits out. "If she had, I doubt you'd have made it here."

The male beside him, Pecan, scoffs. "You've an atrocious amount of gall, poisoning our King. And during a festival, no less—"

"I didn't!" Clover cries, surprising even himself at the sheer desperation that pours out of him. "I didn't do it, I'd never do it! The mountain..."

Is all I have, he wants to say. But his throat closes and he can't get the words out, try as he might. Cypress and Pecan shake their heads, closing the door and locking him into the cell.

As they turn to leave, Cypress pauses. Then, over his shoulder:

"We should have chased you out the moment you arrived, Sì'ěr."

And then Clover is alone.

Again.

The holding room is dark, barely lit by a single torch Pecan left behind. It's cold and wet and it smells like dust, like it hasn't been used in... forever. If he focuses hard enough, the four-eared macaque can get whiffs of a copper tang, making his stomach turn. So instead he buries his face into his knees and wraps his arms and tail around his legs, trying to calm himself.

You can explain. They'll understand. It wasn't me, it was—

...his own grandfather.

What had Clover done wrong? What had influenced his grandfather to... to trick him, to trick the entire troop (the one he was sworn to protect)? And why did he let Clover take the fall? Surely he didn't do it on purpose? They were family, after all; as far as blood went, they were all they had left of each other. That had to mean something.

But that smile before unconsciousness had claimed him... Clover has never seen his grandfather so happy before.

A storm of emotion lights him up inside. Rage at having been framed and tricked, grief for what he could lose, fear of what will happen if he can't convince the troop it wasn't him.

What are they thinking right now? He wonders, hot tears building in his eyes. Does Miss Xīnshù feel validated? Does she think I'm a monster? What about the queen mothers?

And then his stomach drops.

What about Pear? Mulberry, Apple, the rest of his darling friends so lovingly dubbed the Fruit Troop? What was Rin-Rin thinking? Was she worried, and if she was, for what? For him, or for her daughter, who was so often within his grasp? What... what about—

The door opens and Clover clamps his hands over his ears, waiting for the screech of stone grinding on itself. Only it never comes, at least not at the intensity he was prepared for, as if the person opening it was taking great care to avoid any unpleasant sound. But considering it's certainly not hush-hush that Clover is down here (and the only one, too), he can't imagine who'd grant him such generosity.

As a familar figure appears, silhouetted by the corridor behind them and illuminated in the dim torch light, Clover understands.

"L-Liú," Clover gasps, scrambling to his feet. He hurries to the front of the cell, hands wrapped tightly around the bars despite how it irritates the scrapes. "I'm so glad you're here."

Marshal Liú doesn't reply. He enters the room in silence, the door closing behind him. Neither does he spare Clover so much as a glance as he pads to a few more sconces and lights them. When Liú finally approaches the cell, he presses his back to the wall beside it, arms crossed. His face is pinched, eyebrows drawn together and nose wrinkled in a thinking expression. The quietness of it all is unnerving, almost suffocating for the boy. But he keeps silent, not daring to break it.

"The troop is furious," Liú finally says. Clover feels his heart pound anxiously. "Xīnshù especially, considering little Blueberry's birth."

"...I know," Clover murmurs, ears pinned.

"And to make matters worse, Wisdom and Courage have been poisoned, too."

Clover's ears immediately perk, eyes wide as fear settles into his body.

No, no, no, he couldn't have—I couldn't have... He didn't...

"Thankfully, they seem to just be asleep. Beng reckons they'll wake in a few hours," Liú continues, and the four-eared macaque can't help but suck in a deep breath of relief.

They're alright. They're going to be fine.

But is he?

Liú steps in front of Clover, then squats, meeting his eyes.

"You understand how bad this is, Clover," Liú says. "The queen mothers and the King are unconscious, save for a single clone, and you were seen both giving Wùkōng tea and giving the mothers fruit. Somehow."

The two lapse into silence with Clover trembling, tears threatening to escape him again.

Liú slowly raises a hand to cover one of the boy's, holding it gently. "No matter how we look at the evidence, you're responsible, Clover."

A sob breaks loose; he can't help it. Clover knows how bad this looks for him, knows that the odds are not in his favor. The amount of people undoubtedly on his side are barely a fraction of Huāguǒshān and no doubt will lose their power when faced with Xīnshù and the Wùkōng clone.

"I didn't do it," Clover sobs, pressing his forehead against the bars. He bends until he's nearly kowtowing, though he refuses to move his hands from Liú's. "I didn't do it. Please believe me."

Liú make a soft noise—a gentle grunt meant to soothe infants, and Clover would perhaps be embarrassed if it didn't work so well.

"I know," Liú soothes. "I know. Rin-Rin and I know you didn't." His free hand snakes through the bars and cradles Clover's face, careful of his ears, and raises his face.

Clover sputters and uses a sleeve to messily wipe his face, shaking. "I'm so sorry," he weeps, eyes shut tight. "It's all my fault. I-I'm so stupid! I'm not even smart enough to g-get my stupid powers under control! M-Maybe if I did, I could've stopped all this!"

And I'd know if Grandpa was really lying to me the whole time, he adds within his thoughts, his teeth biting into his tongue at the wave of anger that bristles down his back.

"Stop that," Liú coos, gentle. "It's not your fault, Clover. I know it's not. You're..."

Clover barely notices the pause, too caught up in all his feelings. But when a second hand cradles his face and pulls him close, his forehead barely ghosting against Liú's, he's granted a brief moment of confused reprieve.

"Liú...?" He asks softly, noticing the wet sheen in the marshal's eyes with a prick of concern.

"You're my boy," Liú whispers, voice cracking. "And in a few days, we'll catch who really did this and you'll come home."

Clover sniffles, fighting off tears once again, and laughs a little. "And Rin-Rin won't let me leave."

"And Rin-Rin won't let you leave," Liú confirms, laughing a little too.

So the two sit there, cooing softly to each other and wiping away tears and fears alike.

And when Liú has to leave, Clover keeps his chin up.

I'm not alone, he thinks.

Blue eyes flash before his mind's eye, and a determined look settles on his face.

And I won't lose to you.

❝ So I dance with brown bears, and my soul is torn apart .❞

[pnkrathian]

The Robo Lucky AU Summary/Masterpost!

I’ve said bits and pieces about this AU before, but I don’t ever think I’ve posted a more comprehensive summary of it here. I wasn’t able to get into EVERY single part of his story because I wanted to keep this relatively short, but this will give the gist of things.

Robo Lucky is the star character of an AU of mine for the video game Mother 3. Currently, he’s my most beloved OC, and my most beloved AU. I’ve split it into three “Acts”.

Act 1

Lucky was created by Porky, dictator of the Nowhere Islands, as a replacement for the real Lucky, Duster’s alter ego, in the world’s most popular band, the DCMC, because of his choice to leave. Robo Lucky’s original form was made to be identical to that of the real Lucky, with the exception of faint robotic seam lines on his face, joints, and other key articulation points on the body that are only noticeable if you happen to look close enough.

His purpose was to watch over the rest of the DCMC in order to keep them in-line, to spread pro-Porky propaganda to the DCMC’s fans, and to eliminate Duster as quickly as possible before the general public could notice anything was up. He is very skilled at mimicking the personality and mannerisms of the real Lucky when he needs to, but his real self comes through when he’s ready to attack. In reality, his personality is completely different from Duster’s. He’s chaotic, he’s irrational, he’s emotional, and he can be more than a bit sadistic. Even though he’s a robot, he actually feels and can show just as much emotion as a human can, and he is fully sentient, unlike some of Porky’s other robots.

When he chooses to attack, you’ll never see him use his legs like Duster does, but you’ll see him use a variety of gadgets coming from inside his robot body instead. Things like saw blades or tasers replacing his hands, flamethrowers and guns coming from his mouth, or a jetpack coming from his back. In all honesty, if you can think of a weird robotic gadget or weapon he could have, he probably has it. He’s meant to be both a very silly and very scary character, to have those horror elements without sacrificing a sense of the Mother series-type humor. He can be a true horror villain at times, but other times, he’s the kind of villain who will sing a catchy song as he tries to stab someone. He’ll almost always be showy or flashy when he has a chance to be. (Although I don’t officially ship him romantically with Duster, he miiiight give Duster a lil homoerotic pin against the wall as well as other similar stuff. As a treat. :3)

As Robo Lucky spends countless times trying to eliminate Duster and his other party members (except for Boney, because in his words: “Who would kill a fucking dog? I have at least SOME standards, asshole!”) and failing, only to be rebuilt stronger but then to fail again, his desire to kill Duster shifts from following his orders to true jealousy and hatred. He begins to resent Duster for being stronger than him even though he was built to be an incredibly powerful killing machine, he resents him for having his friends while he’s still feared, and he resents the fact that he was built to look like him, and therefore he blames his miserable existence on him instead of the scientists who built him.

I cannot stress enough that he is not Duster but “evil”, but a completely different guy who has been forced into a Duster body and forced to pretend to be him, manipulated to believe that eliminating Duster and replacing him is the only way he can achieve happiness, or even a right to exist in the world.

Duster is finally able to “tame” Robo Lucky during their final fight, which happens right after the final DCMC performance in the Empire Pork Building. After fighting with the last of his power, he is finally defeated when Duster is able to kick his head clean off his body. This does not kill him, as he is a robot, but Duster pities him, so instead of destroying him, he takes him, which eventually leads him to follow everyone else into the next world after the final needle is pulled by Lucas.

Act 2

For the next ~2-3 years, Robo Lucky lives as a talking head with Duster and the rest of the DCMC. Now, he’s completely powerless, with none of the gadgets inside his body to help him. He no longer even has his wig, his head is now bare, leaving the clear head casing showcasing his main internal processor underneath. At first, leaving him as a head was a punishment of sorts, to get him to think about the damage he had caused. But gradually, although not without struggle, he realizes that Duster and the others are beginning to care about him, and they are trying to show him that he doesn’t have to go down the path of violence or hatred, that there can be good things in life, that there are people out there who care about him, and that despite his purpose for being built, there is good in his heart, and he can choose to show it and he can chose to figure out who he really is. Eventually, it leads into a whole redemption arc for him where he becomes almost like family to Duster and the others, and eventually, once the others are able to trust him enough, he is able to get a new body built for himself. In addition, Duster also grapples with the fact that even though he did it in self defense, he had taken almost all of Lucky’s physical autonomy away, and begins to feel deeply guilty for his actions. After they both realize the gravity of what they had done to each other, and both regret it, they come to an agreement. When they’re both comfortable enough with each other to be vulnerable, Lucky tells him that he thinks the two of them should be “even” now. Duster suggests that the two of them should start over; to try to move forward, to see each other as people, as equals, as friends. They realize that all the fighting and competition between the two has caused both of them nothing but suffering, and yes, they absolutely have the capacity to get along, against all odds.

Act 3

Robo Lucky was able to design his new body himself, with help from the scientists still left, of course. During his time as a head, he’s learned that replacing Duster isn’t truly what he wants, but instead, he wants a chance to figure out who he really is as an individual.

When he gets his body, he still looks a bit similar to Duster, to avoid having to make him a completely new head, but with a nose that is more pointy than hooked downward; longer, fuller, curlier hair; bigger, brighter, eyes; a softer, younger-looking, less angular face; and facial hair that is thinner above the lips and fuller below them. His body shape is a little more lean and top-heavy than Duster’s (For context, my version of Duster’s body is a bit more on the chubby, pear-shaped side), and he is a bit shorter. In addition, he also takes care of his hygiene better than Duster usually does.

Now, Robo Lucky still does have some of his old personality; he still can be emotional, dramatic, a bit chaotic, and (for lack of a better word) still a bit of a dickhead or a little shit sometimes, he now is also passionate, energetic, goofy, VERY affectionate, and overall, happier than he’s ever been. He now takes joy in entertaining people for what he can do himself, and he has taken quite a liking to singing (and he’s really good at it, too!). Duster has even abandoned the use of “Lucky” as a stage name for himself, choosing to use his real name to the public. Therefore, “Robo Lucky” is free to become the one and only Lucky. According to Duster, it was his name all along.

Of course, Lucky still is far from perfect, but compared to before, he has come miles and miles ahead in self- improvement, and has finally been able to live his life as his true self.

I do have a lot of art from all three Acts that I will post! However, most of the art I do nowadays revolves around Act 3, with Lucky in his true body, figuring himself out and interacting with the other characters around him, mostly Duster. Eventually, he and Duster not only become best friends, but they develop a sort of queerplatonic-type relationship. It's not exactly clearly defined, because having a relationship with a robot who isn't you but was made to look like you but now doesn’t look like you… is definitely not a thing that happens often.

I even do other art and stories with Lucky that goes beyond the realm of Act 3, exploring his extended life after Duster and the other characters he started out with pass on. My ideal personal version of Mother 4 even piggybacks off this AU instead of canon, because honestly, it’s canon in my heart. I plan to write more about it here later, but long story short, it involves Lucky living in a new world, meeting new companions along the way, including *gasp*... a lover?

Pre-redemption/pre-new body Robo Lucky goes by he/him, but post-redemption Lucky goes by both he/him and also sometimes she/her!

[blindmagdalena]

oh the drama! 🤌🏼 there’s something so delectable in a enemies to lovers trope with a soulmate au. hating the desire he has to protect someone so adamant on aiding in his murder. relishing in the fantasy he’s a step closer to but feels like he’s twelve steps behind on. having someone who’s his. being someone else’s. so what if it ends in blood? he just hates the clench of his chest at the idea of his soulmate being the one not to survive. he’s better than everyone! so why does he feel so weak? why does this one person make his god complex falter. soulmates are below him. he doesn’t need anyone. never mind the way his eyes never stray from her figure when she’s unaware of his presence. never mind the way he clenched his nails into his palm when the boys confronted her on this recent discovery of the century. never mind the way he had to bite back a smile when she defended herself. he doesn’t need her. he doesn’t need a soulmate. he needs to remove this thorn from his side and do everything in his power to not dig it deeper so he can be reminded of her —the og anon with this idea. just love it so much 🙏🏼 definitely opened a can of worms for my own brain lolol

mmmm DELICIOUS.

i'm Consumed with the idea that he was told from the beginning he would not have a soulmate. that soulmates are a product of nature, and that he simply... is not. in a world full of split souls made to find one another, he was made for no one. he was created to be a product. beloved by the masses conceptually, but never personally.

now imagine the shock of that moment where he realizes they do exist, and she's here. the disorienting flash of a potential lifetime of love with her, a vision of the future he's always wanted made very nearly tangible.

only to pull back to reality and see the shock in her expression. disgust. and then that familiar hatred that he had been apathetic to seconds ago. now it burns like bile in the back of his throat.

it's enough to push someone to absolute madness. he'd have to find a way to show her that whatever has been put into her head about him isn't true. he cannot exist in a world with someone who was made for him, and yet refuses him. someone he cannot harm nor have. it hurts too much, feels too wretchedly human.