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#one day i'll come back to it though and really do it justice
floating-goblin-art · 2 years
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happy birthday to the cake game
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lucidfairies · 10 months
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money [a.a]
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pairing: ceo!abby x secretary!reader
synopsis: when you finally land the job of your dreams, you had no idea what your boss would be like. and damn, no idea you conjured could've done her justice.
warnings: top!abby, bottom!reader, age gap (reader is in her 20s, abby is in her early 40s), cunnilingus (r/a receiving), strap (r!receiving), praise + degradation, mommy kink, dirty talk, manhandling, pet names (sweetheart, sweet girl, angel, baby, whore, slut)
word count: 3.3k
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it wasn't everyday that you landed a job with one of the most well known law firms in washington. for now you were just a secretary, someone to sit outside of an office and take calls, but your hope was to work your way up to one of their lawyers.
you had little prior experience with being a secretary, but it was just enough to get you this gig. the building was large, and the office you were to assist was on one of the highest floors, naturally where the head of the firm was.
you knew her, abby anderson. incredibly talented lawyer who even won over a supreme court case. though you hadn't met her in person, you were exhilarated to meet her. she was who you dreamed to be, especially by her age.
it wasn't until your third day, when abby was finally in the office, when you got a glimpse of what working here would actually look like. abby showed up in a well pressed black suit, armani logo drilling into your eyes like a laser, making you feel all that underdressed.
"do I know you?" she asked when you knocked gently on her office door and went in. she truly didn't mean to be rude - her son had been sick for three days and she was feeling it now - but you didn't know that. you automatically assumed she was an asshole, and that threw you off.
you cleared your throat, meeting her eyes and immediately shifting them again. she was intimidating, almost scary. "I'm y/n. I'm your new assistant." she looked you up and down, gaze still burning your skin, and the corner of her mouth turned up to a smirk.
"great. I take my coffee black, nothing in it. there will be a card on your desk that you can charge it to every morning. get yourself something. I expect you to leave before I do, as I stay late. by any chance, do you babysit?" your eyes found hers as you finally looked up.
"I mean, I can. I used to when-" she cut you off, uninterested in anything except the yes. you noted that for later.
"I might need you to pick up my son from school every couple weeks. not often, and certainly not until I've run a background check on you." she wasn't hardly looking at you now, eyes flipping between her papers and computer. "did I miss anything?"
"no ma'am," you said, standing up and instinctively wiping off your skirt, though there was nothing there. suddenly you were back at your desk, waiting for calls and bookings to come in while trying to make sense of that interaction.
the next day you arrived late, but in your defense, the line at the coffee place was long and traffic was even longer, and now you weren't even sure that the coffee was hot. abby was there when you gently knocked on her door, allowing your entry with a low 'come in.
"I'm so sorry I'm late, there was really bad traffic and the line-"
"it's okay, sweet girl." your stomach flipped. yesterday, when your eyes knew nothing but the floor, you hadn't exactly taken in her appearance, but today. today.
today she was in a black turtleneck, sleeves right around the muscle in her arms that just made her look so, so good. her black slacks were tight at her hips with a belt, and they were hugging her legs so tight that you were sure the seam would rip.
her hair was pulled into a nice bun and she wore no makeup, not that she ever needed to. she had freckles, beautiful eyes. rings. she had rings, that she could put inside of you any day.
"I'll be on time tomorrow, miss." your gaze dropped again as you turned to leave her office. this was surely going to be nothing but torture for the following months.
two weeks later was the first time she asked you to stay late. you originally had plans, but the way your name dripped off of her tongue like honey made you immediately cancel them. she had asked you politely to pick up her son, and you even acquired her number from the ordeal.
dealing with kids was not your specialty, but abby's son was a delight. he talked all about his mom, some about his dad and it made you wonder if abby was single or not. she never wore a ring to your knowledge, not even on a necklace, and from your speculation she almost looked like a lesbian. maybe you were just dreaming about the end.
if you had taken your apartment and multiplied it by ten, it still wouldn't be half the size of abby's house. she truly did have money, if the armani suits and porsche didn't say that already.
an hour into your babysitting, which almost just felt like hanging out with a kid in a mansion, abby got home. she walked in, greeting you with the first real smile you had ever seen on her face. your brain malfunctioned when you gently placed her hand on your arm and pressed an innocent kiss onto your cheek.
you were blushing profusely, pupils blown, almost dizzy, all she did was kiss your cheek, a very normal way of greeting someone and you were fucked. abby didn't fail to see you run your fingers over the spot and look at them before quickly turning back towards the two of them.
abby lived for it. lived for the you drooled over everything she did, lived for the way that she was sure her fingers would look so, so good in your mouth... and she tried not to think about it. how could she, when her son was standing right next to her, trying to tell her about his day, and you. you just looked so innocent.
you were engulfed in her smell, the perfect balance of pine and amber and erotica. she smelled like five hundred dollar cologne right off the shelf of valentino. you wanted to smell like that, wanted to smell like that, wanted to wear her clothes and have everyone think that you were together.
"thanks for coming, sweetheart. I'll see you on monday." you looked at her with your brows knit, knowing you had work the following day, friday. "take the day off. you did something for me, and I'm repaying you. use my card and get something."
the amount of money she had to just throw around was so attractive to you. she was an independent woman who brought in millions every year and was letting some secretary she had known for three weeks let buy anything on a day off.
monday had arrived, and you had purchased nothing with abby's card, naturally. you weren't one to spend someone's money just because they had a lot of it, or because they told you to. she would've had to buy it for you to accept it, at that.
it was nearing eleven when abby called you into her office by your first name, instead of one of the many nicknames she always seems to use. "sit." she demanded as you stepped in, and you did so.
"is something wrong, ms. anderson?" she wasn't mad, but she was irritated. she told you to do something, told you to put yourself first and you didn't.
"I told you to treat yourself on friday," her gaze left her laptop and met your eyes. "why didn't you?" you blanked for a moment.
"I just.. I didn't feel right spending money that wasn't mine." she gave you a disapproving look, before getting up and coming around her desk to stand in front of you. in a matter of moments, one of her large hands was grabbing your jaw and forcing your head up to look at her.
she bent down slightly, lips grazing over yours, and you were sure she could feel how much your face heated up. "next time I tell you to do something, you're going to do it. understand, sweet girl?"
"I don't-" your pupils were blown and you were so desperate for her to press her lips just a bit closer, fill the gap and just let you have it.
"say 'yes abby'."
"y-yes abby." she let go of your face and went back to her desk, pretending to pay you little attention, but she was acutely aware of the way you pushed your thighs together and squirmed.
"you're dismissed. I expect to see a charge by the morning." you got up and hurried out, going straight to the bathroom. your face was burning up, and you could vaguely see an imprint from her hand.
you were meaninglessly circling the mall, trying to decide what to spend this newfound money on. obviously you wouldn't get something big and glamorous, no matter how much she seemingly wanted you to.
every time you walked, you seemed to pass victoria's secret. It seemed like it was calling you to buy something, and after that interaction with abby earlier, you decided that maybe you should treat yourself and went in.
you looked around for a while before finding a cute blue set, with embroidered, lacy flowers. it was nothing special, just transparent and high waisted, but it was speaking to you. suddenly you knew what you were wearing to work the next day.
- - -
you felt completely scandalous wearing a short little skirt over the lingerie in the morning, with a button down, where the first few buttons were unbuttoned. it was different from your usual dress pants and blouse, but it definitely did what you needed it to do.
work was as usual for the majority of the morning, and you were suddenly doubting why you wore what you did. there was no point, you were seriously delusional and seriously needed help. what kind of freak where's lingerie and completely inappropriate work clothes to work after one minor interaction with their boss?
that was until you got a simple email from ms. anderson herself, reading nothing but;
my office. now, please.
you cleared your throat, brushed out your hair slightly and adjusted your shirt before nonchalantly entering her office. you sat, observing the way she remained quiet for a moment before clearing her desk and turning her attention towards you.
“did you think I wouldn't realize?” she asked, cooly, with her eyebrows raised slightly. “I mean, props to you, you did as you were told. but I checked the card. I'm not the only one who can see the transactions on that card either, sweetheart.”
you were immediately red. who else could see them? “I didn't r-really think-”
“no, you didn't. I bet the men in my finances would love to see you dancing around in whatever you bought, wouldn't they, baby?” she was standing before you could think, hands resting on the handles of your chair. “why don't you show me, huh? I know you're wearing it.”
“I'm not- we can't do that here.” you looked around, though you knew no one would ever bother her and her office had no cameras. “we're at work, abigail.” there was a fast switch in her eyes, the way they went from cocky to wide, almost needy.
“fuck,” her head dropped into the crook of your neck before she ran her nose along your jaw. “say it again. please, baby.” her tone, the gentle pleading made any rational thoughts disappear from your mind. your hand wrapped around the collar of her button down and pulled her in gently.
“abigail,” you whispered, “I want this,” with that, her hands were everywhere, all at once. she was pulling you up, wrapping her large hands around your hips as she pulled you in for a harsh kiss. she was forcing you onto her desk, keeping her lips to yours as your bodies molded to each other.
she left your lips, finding a perfect spot on your neck and sucking. you gasped when you felt her hand undoing the buttons of your shirt and pulling it out of your skirt. you were grabbing her by her waist trying to pull her closer as she continued to mark up your neck and grab your tits.
when she finally pulled away from your neck, her eyes became wide looking at your lingerie clad tits. you slid your shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it, looking up at her as you began to unbutton hers. she didn't let you get very far before she was gently pushing you back until your back was against the cool wood of the desk.
she unclipped your bra and pulled it off, tongue immediately meeting your nipple. she bit it and you yelped, grabbing her shoulders. her large hand was messing with your other, tugging gently and kneading. "I love your tits so fucking much, baby.” she mumbled into your skin while she kissed down your stomach.
she left more hickies on your ribs, but you desperately needed her in one place. she was pulling your skirt down in seconds, pressing her tongue against you like it was nothing and watching you arch and moan. she was eating you out through your underwear for a minute, before you grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.
"take them off." she smirked, and her head tilted slightly to the side.
"who said you're in charge, sweet angel?" the nickname was new, but you fucking loved that she always called you sweet. you were something sweet to her, and that made your brain lag every time.
"abby please," you bucked into her, chasing friction. that's when you felt it; the large bulge in her slacks that you hadn't noticed earlier.
"feel that, baby? that's all for you." she pulled down your underwear slowly, tossing it in the pile of clothes. she spread your lips, watching slick connect and drip down your thighs. your face burned and you covered it, embarrassed. "uncover your face or I'll stop." you did as told.
she pulled a ponytail off her wrist and pulled her hair into a bun before pressing her tongue into your clit and licking a fat stripe. your head hit the desk with a thud, reveling at the feeling. she worked your clit, sucking it into her mouth and painting patterns with her tongue while she pressed a finger into entrance.
she used her free hand to hold you down by your stomach, since your squirming was messing her up. you whined when she added a second finger, not used to her thick fingers. "if you can't take my fingers, how am I supposed to fuck you with my strap?" you moaned at her words, loving the dirtiness of it.
she returned to your clit and you got loud when she curled her fingers up into the best spot, whimpering and groaning. she remembered the time when you pressed your fingers to your cheek in her house, and brought her unused hand to your mouth, tapping your chin lightly. "open your mouth and suck," she instructed, noticing your confused look.
you took two of her fingers in your mouth and sucked them, which shut you up. your stomach coiled, a warm feeling rushing between your legs before you could even mumble a word. it felt like you just kept coming, until she finally pulled away from your cunt.
"are you gonna give me another one, angel?" she was unclipped her belt while you caught your breath. "wanna fuck you all day." she pulled her pants and boxers down just barely enough to get her strap out. "flip over, ass up." you turned over, fucked out muscles aching.
she ran the tip of her strap between your folds, letting your wetness lube it up, then lined up with your hole. she pushed just the tip in, groaning at the way you took it so well and swallowed her in. "what if I just fucked you like this, huh?" you whined.
"please.. need more," you pushed your hips back slightly, trying to push her in further. she pulled out, simply pushing the tip back in.
"desperate fucking whore," she thrust in on the last word, bottoming out immediately. you whimpered, the strap stretching you far more than her fingers. "aw, baby, does that hurt?" she pulled out far and fucked into you again.
she started fucking you, deep and hard, until you were moaning and grabbing onto the desk, trying to stabilize yourself. one of her hands left your hips and grabbed your hair, wrapping it around her fist and tugging. "fuck.. abby- abs.. mommy,”
your eyes widened at the name, which came out unintentionally. she stopped momentarily before groaning and picking her pace back up rapidly. "call me that again." the tip of her strap kissed your cervix and bumped against your g-spot every time. her arm wrapped around your waist, flicking your clit.
"mommy.. m'gonna cum." you slurred, cock drunk and fucked out. she kept her pace, hardly changing anything except for the fact that she was louder now, finding the perfect angle to get the harness to hit her clit.
"just wait a second, my love,” you held it for as long as you could, but it became too much, and she was hitting just right. your mind went absolutely blank as your vision went white, a wave crashing over you as you came.
you could hear abby moaning, but you were still going, and unable to think of anything. “fuck baby, you make such a mess.” you relaxed your tense body and look over your shoulder at abby's soaked harness, pants, and desk.
“m’sorry.” she slowly pulled her strap out and unclipped it front her hips, letting you lay for another minute before she grabbed your hips and helped you flip over and sit up. “wanna make you cum, mommy.” you looked at her with doe eyes, watching her eyes darken.
“I already came, sweetheart. don't worry about me.” you brought your hand down to cup her cunt and she took in a sharp breath. you ground your palm against her clit and she groaned, shifting her stance from foot to foot.
you slid off the desk with wobbly legs and kneeled in front of her, pupils blown. “please mommy,” you ran your nails over her abs and under her boxer strap lightly, making her muscles tense.
“such a slut, aren't you? want mommy to fuck your face?” you nodded, pulling her boxers down to her ankles. her blonde bush matched her hair, and you noticed her happy trail that you hadn't earlier. “stick out your tongue, baby, be a good girl.”
you stuck your tongue out flat, not even getting a chance to lick before she was pressing her cunt to your mouth. she fucked herself on your face, gripping your hair tight and grinding fast. you gently pushed her against the desk, lifting one of her legs to your shoulder and leaving the other one down.
she must have loved the new angle, because she was moaning and grunting more than you had ever heard her. her clit was twitching and puffy, wet from your spit and her slick. she let out an involuntary whimper, and it was like music to your ears. “gonna c-cum on your f-fucking face, angel.”
her legs shook as she came, ans you spent the following moments licking all of it up. you pulled away and stood up, still shaky. she pulled her boxers and slacks up, moving towards the pile of clothes and handing you what was yours. “do you wanna get dinner tonight?” she stopped what she was doing to button up your shirt and zip your skirt.
“yeah, that's great.” she smiled, kissing you softly.
“you can go home if you want to clean up. I can take my own calls for a few minutes.” it was your turn to smile, grateful to get out of your uncomfortable, wet clothes.
“I'll see you tonight?” you asked, looking over your shoulder once you got to the door.
“pick you up at seven.”
a/n: part two? 🤭
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tag list: @shewantstoknow @baumbii @zombholic
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cherrydbear · 2 months
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Since y'all seemed to like this I'll keep rambling on the subject, I can do this all day. Here are some of those examples where I think their friendship really shines through:
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From Sanji's perspective, this guy just showed up outside his restaurant one day, dueled the legendary swordsman who slashed Don Krieg's fleet to pieces, willingly got cut almost in two, nearly bled to death, was tied up by his own crew and then captured by the Arlong pirates, still singlehandedly escaped and came back to join the fight and defeated one of Arlong's best fighters, then nearly bled to death again and woke up just in time to drink himself silly at the afterparty. I've heard people say they "match each other's freak" and that's the truth. Sanji watches this absolute wackadoodle of a man and knows he's found someone who matches his freak. From Zoro's point of view, some cook at a floating restaurant just fed all of their enemies out of principle before kicking their butts. How could he not respect that sort of unconditional adherence to a sense of honor and justice? Especially considering he himself experienced starvation not too long ago in Shells Town. Now this cook, the newest stray in Luffy's collection, immediately proves himself to be immensely capable both in the kitchen and on the battlefield, incurs injury to himself without complaint to protect these people he barely knows, and still is the only person to come sit by Zoro and check up on him. So Zoro knows that Sanji has a heart of pure gold, and I think that's a big part of why he gets frustrated when Sanji tries to cover it up with bravado and perviness.
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This scene was really interesting to me because usually when someone demands that Zoro does something, he grouches and grumbles about it, so in this case it seems he just spontaneously started helping out himself. And if there was ever a man whose love language is acts of service, it's Roronoa Zoro. He seems to be more of a "companionable silence" kind of guy, while Sanji's a talker and will say anything to keep feeling connected. Now, I don't know if this is just a me thing, but I like to say my friends' names a lot, even just because the association with them brings me joy, but I rarely use the names of people I'm not close with except to refer to them in third person or to get their attention. In this scene, it seems to me that Sanji keeps repeating Zoro's name as a way to show he's thinking about him and appreciates him being there, though I might just be projecting.
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Now, I know shippers go crazy over this one, but I think it's honestly really solid platonic evidence and I'll tell you why (not to dissuade shipping, I think you have to be friends before you can be more than friends so all of this can be fuel for the ship too if you want it to be). Firstly, they're comfortable enough to sleep this close together. Sanji's resting his sleepy head right on Zoro's shoulder (it should have been me, not him) and Zoro just lets him. Also note real quick, only a short distance away Luffy is using Usopp as a pillow, so they're all a cuddly cozy little family. When Zoro notices Sanji mistakenly trying to kiss him, he doesn't even move away, he just makes a face and waits for Sanji to wake up so he can make fun of him. Sanji, for his part, doesn't act embarrassed or disgusted that it turned out to be Zoro there, only playfully mad about his expression. They squabble for a few moments before Luffy pushes past them and they turn their attention to the next thing, argument forgotten, proving that neither was actually angry about anything and they were merely enjoying the opportunity to bicker.
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This is from the hunting competition in Little Garden that I mentioned before. I just wanted to point out that both of them are grinning and clearly having a grand time.
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(I love how Sanji's hands are just massive sometimes.) They have the entire forest clearing, and Sanji chooses to sit his little booty down right next to Zoro and toss his food at him. They're just like those kids in elementary who had beef over who has a more impressive Pokémon collection and would always sit next to each other at lunch to compare cards and play together at recess but claim they're archnemeses. And for as much as Sanji implied to Usopp (though oblivious) that the heart shaped vegetables were just for the ladies, he did choose to make it and serve it to the whole crew. Speaking of the ladies, Sanji is always adamant about protecting them, but he was perfectly fine with leaving Nami and Robin in Zoro's care, just as Zoro trusted Sanji to take care of Luffy and Usopp.
I also loved how Sanji packed Zoro a cute little lunchbox for exploring and he was NOT going to let no stupid south bird take it from him.
Alright that's all for today folks I gotta wake up in like 5 hours for work lol
Continuation from this post
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kroosluvr · 30 days
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present day
if every day will be like this from now on, i'll look forward to every single one.
ok. Sits down. help meeee i tried using csp's comic tools for once (and also gradient maps + coloring w monochrome) to save time bUT I ENDED UP SPENDING THE USUAL AMT ANYWAY SO. . erm. WELL IT WAS FUN ANYWAYS
hiiiiiiiii i wrote this script 4 months ago nd finally did it (had this on the backburner for 20 million yrs bc i wanted to get out other angst bullshit first)
the parallels of goro's back (x3) on the first 2 pgs are kinda not 1:1 as i'd like but REGARDLESS i still like them. goro, who had utmost control over his life, running it like a machine, regardless of how he feels or if he's tired or if he wants to give up.......he was in control. knowing, of course, that his life is on the line at every waking moment, but since he was always on edge, always alert, he was still in control.
but now, surviving the long winter and coming out to the other side, he's lost that control AND that edge. now what is he left with? what is there left?
very speficially in the 2nd page.... i think its so <3 YAY <3 that goro, now, doesn't feel the need to take such spic-and-span clean-cut care of his appearance.., guy who rolls out of bed and throws on a shirt to go hangout w akira and sumire. he decides to tie up his hair and forgoes his gloves... feels more "comfortable" to change his apperance, to let down his guard a little. <- was the rough symbolism JKDSHKFS
sumire getting the choco croissant but letting goro have the first bite YEAHHHH WHATEVER
4th page symbolism is also rough i didnt think abt it too hard LMAO. 3rdsem goro watching his detective prince self leave. he knows acutely well that chapter of his life is over - whether he survives the long winter or dies in it. all that he knew - even though it was miserable and awful and frustrating and dangerous - is gone.
and now there's just this: the present day. whatever that means.
i think something important to me abt royal trio is just the idea of Learning To Just Exist: no need for a "purpose" or a "calling" or some overarching "goal". they just learn to exist.
and of course none of them really have a benchmark for "wow i like this i want to live like this" so they just roll with the punches, as they always have, but yknow. finally getting to live their honest student life as they always deserved
edit: and most importantly for goro, i think, is learning to cut himself some slack. "despite everything" he says, despite all the shit he's endured AND all the shit he's done, he feels like this is "right." whatever that means, he's ready to take it day by day to figure it out. AND THATS THE WHOLE THING Punches wall really hard
edit: I ALSO FORGOT. i think the sentiment of "being waited for" for goro means a lot. since he had to do everything by himself, fight for himself, decide everything for himself frm such a young age, the idea of akira and sumire waiting for him, inviting him out simply for him to be there -> is really meaningful to him, more than they could know.
edit AGAIN: also goro sleeping in means a lot to me. i imagine that guy has pretty terrible insomnia. ALSO HE HAS A BEDFRAME! i like the thought of his apartment being so /r/malelivingspaces throughout the game. he doesn’t deserve a bedframe. BUT HE HAS ONE NOW!
goros expressions in the last page gve me a hard time. sparkly....
also im SO freaking sorry if his voice isnt too well-written... i had a crisis over the wording while draiwng htis so much DSKHASKDASJK AND THE PANELING AND WHATEVERRR IDEK WHAT IM DOINGGG but it was fun!!!! exploratory..... regardless i will keep workign to do him and royaltrio justice. THUMBSUP EMOJI.
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karasuno-planet · 3 months
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Hii! I'm not sure what your requests rules are or what ur comfterable with, but I'd really like to see a tsukishima x reader where he confesses to the reader! I'd love to see your interpretation of it >-<
After Class- Tsukishima Kei
a/n: HIIII of course I'll give you some tsukki x reader, hope I did him justice <333 as for requests I'll write for any haikyuu boy as long as it's sfw! requests open xx
wc: 0.8k
(gif not mine)
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You had loosely known Tsukishima all year now, as you shared the same class and often found yourselves sitting by each other and pairing up for assignments. It was no secret that he was intelligent, but you could hold your own despite how intimidating he could sometimes be.
Recently, you had been making quite the effort to see him outside of class, though you weren't quite sure he had gotten the hint. You had been coming to his games, talking to him more in class, and you even altered your route to school to intersect with his. He hadn't been receptive, though, and if anything could be considered your enemy, it might be those damn headphones.
You had one last idea, though. Sitting next to him in your last class of the day, you tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hm?"
"Hey, um, you mind staying after class for a few to help me out with this problem on my math homework? I'm so lost..."
"Oh, yeah. Sure. I have some time before practice."
"Thank you," You returned to your work, now unable to focus. You know you were the one who asked him to stay, but the idea of being alone with him after class made your stomach turn.
Soon enough, the bell had rung, and you had gotten absolutely nowhere on your work. The class cleared out until it was just you and Tsukishima. He pulled his chair closer to share your desk as you got out your math homework. You handed it to him and he skimmed it over, the silence between you almost deafening.
"Mm, wait, what is it that you don't get?" He asked, puzzled.
"Uh, the last one."
"But you did the whole sheet correctly. You just wrote out the equation and didn't solve it on the last one."
Oh God, I guess you didn't think this far. How could you be so dumb? A perfect sheet of homework didn't exactly scream that you needed help. You made up the best excuse you could, "Yeah, but I looked back at it after the lesson and I just don't even remember how to do it...can you show me?"
"Sure.." he picked up a pencil and took the problem step by step, mumbling an explanation under his breath. At one point, he looked up and saw your eyes fixed on him. You could've sworn there was a peak of blush, but he looked back down at the sheet before you could get a good look. "There, uh, does that make more sense?"
"Yes, it's perfect. Thank you..."
"No problem," He hesitated, as if he was about to say something else but was held back, "You've been coming to my games, right?"
"Oh, yes! I've kinda been getting into the sport..."
"Are you coming tomorrow, too?"
"Do you want me to?"
That caught him off guard, a flash of fear in his eyes, "Uh- well, sure." He looked at his phone quickly for the time and began to frantically pack up, "Shoot, I'm about to be late. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
"Sorry to keep you!" You were upset with yourself for having kept him so long, "Good luck at practice!"
And at that moment your heart nearly skipped a beat when you saw him swallow before answering, "thanks."
He walked out the door and you were left practically with your jaw dropped. You packed up quickly and went to your locker to put your homework away.
You were once again filled with anxiety upon hearing familiar voices down the hall.
"She WHAT? And you don't think she really needed help-" Yamaguchi's voice squeaked through the hall, having not noticed you yet. You glance down the hallway and see Tsushima talking to him, Tsukki's back facing you. Was he really talking about you?
Yamaguchi continued, "Dude you need to go back before she-" he clasped his hands over his mouth, finally noticing your presence down the hall.
Tsukishima turned around to see you standing there, his face completely flushed. Yamaguchi pushed him towards you quickly before running off to avoid whatever Tsukishima might do to him when he catches him.
There you were, standing alone facing your nearly-190-centimeter crush. He turned around to watch Yamaguchi dart off. He sighed, and turned back to face you, walking towards you.
"Y/n?"
You turned to him, closing your locker. "Yes?"
"You're not dumb. Obviously. You didn't need my help back there. And so I won't pretend you didn't just hear that."
You were absolutely speechless.
"Do you like me, y/n?"
"I- uh..."
"Because I like you." He grew more anxious as you delayed to respond, "is that okay?"
"Yes!" The word burst out of you, "More than okay."
[masterlist]
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imshii-kin · 4 months
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Good Luck
Chapter # 5 Cinematic
Platonic Yandere Dc x reincarnated Reader
Wattpad
Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 (You are here), Chapter 6
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The whole tradition of cinema is dominated, really, by films about good guys versus bad guys, good versus evil. But we have very few films about the nature of evil itself. - Joshua Oppenheimer
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
Jon lies on his bed, staring at nothing in particular. It had been a few weeks since Y/n went with the Waynes, and he had to admit, the apartment felt empty without her.
Shifting around, Jon reaches for the picture frame on his nightstand. A soft smile spreads on his face as he looks at a seven-year-old Y/n standing with the Justice League, a contagious smile on her face.
"I wonder what she's doing now.."
──●◎●──
Y/n stands at the front doors of the manor, watching as Clark pulls into the driveway, discomfort bubbling in her gut.
Something told her this meeting wasn't going to go well.
"Y/n!" Clark quickly exited his car, rushing to Y/n and scooping her into his arm. "Oh Y/n, I'm sorry the others couldn't come and visit. They were too busy with work and school, but if the chance arises, I'll make sure they make it next time." Clark reassured the girl.
"Oh uh, that's good, thanks," Y/n muttered, leaving Clark's grip.
Clark frowns at Y/n's distant behavior, shooting a look at Bruce before smiling again. "I'm here to spend time with you Y/n, maybe try and jog your memory..." He reaches into his pocket and grabs two movie tickets. "See! I got us tickets to your favorite movie!"
Y/n takes one of these tickets. 'The Incredibles' strangely fits in this world.
A sigh resonates from behind Y/n, Bruce frowning at the two of them. "Clark, you know I can't let you do that. It's too soon to be trying anything yet."
Clark glares harshly at Bruce, "I don't see how you can stop me Wayne, and I'm pretty sure I know what's best for my kid."
Grabbing Y/n's hand, Clark drags her back to his car, ignoring Bruce's protest.
Clark makes Y/n sit in the front seat before going around the front and entering the driver's side. As if trying to comfort her, Clark gives Y/n a side hug as he leaves the Wayne manors driveway.
──●◎●──
Minutes go by in uncomfortable silence, the radio station humming some random song quietly, the low hum of the car engine filling the space between them. Clark, gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes darting from the road to Y/n. She was staring blankly out the window, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the glass.
"Y/n," Clark began, "I know you don't remember, but the last time we went to the movies together was your 13th birthday. You wanted to see the Incredibles then."
Y/n frowned, a knot forming in her stomach, guilt filling her, though she didn't know why.
"I thought... maybe if we watched it again, it might help jog some memories," he continued, the words coming out in a rush. "It's always been your favorite. You'd watch it over and over, even when I begged for something else." He let out a strained chuckle that seemed to contradict the radio's happy tunes.
Y/n didn't answer, continuing to look out the window at the passing buildings. Clark's heart ached with a dull, relentless throb. His mind raced back to the days before whatever this was stole his daughter away. He remembered her laughter, her curiosity, the way she would pepper him with questions about everything and anything.
Now, Y/n couldn't even look at him. Desperation gnawed at him, a dark shadow lurking at the edges of his mind. He needed to bring her back. He needed to see that spark in her eyes again, to hear her laugh, to know that she was still there, somewhere beneath that cold, nervous expression.
As they drove, Clark glanced at the rearview mirror, catching sight of his reflection. Lines on his face seemed deeper, his eyes hollow. He barely recognized himself. The effort of holding it all together was tearing him apart, piece by piece.
"Remember the time we went camping?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "You caught your first fish, and you were so excited you almost fell into the lake." He chuckled again, but it quickly turned into a choked sob. He bit down on his lip, hard, tasting blood.
Y/n gasped, "Clark-"
"Dad," he corrected sharply, his tone laced with frustration. "Call me Dad, Y/n."
Clark almost immediately regretted the sharpness in his voice as Y/n recoiled slightly, a look of guilt crossing her features.
"I-I'm sorry, sweetheart," Clark stammered, reaching out to touch her hand. "It's just... I want us to be a family again. I want... I want you to remember."
His heart almost completely shattered when Y/n moved her hand away.
The radio continued to play its happy tunes as the two sat in silence.
...
The car pulled into the parking lot of the movie theater, the neon lights flickering to life. Clark turned off the engine and sat there for a moment, gathering his thoughts.
"We're going to get through this," he said, more to himself than to her. "I promise you, Y/n. We'll find a way."
──●◎●──
Chapter 6
A/n: Sad times :,) Anyways, guess who's out of school AHHHHHHHH!!! And guess who's also going on a trip to EUROPE!!! AHHHH!!! I'm so excited y'all.
@rosecentury
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peaches-and-creamm · 4 months
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LOVE LANGUAGES!
a/n: thanks 🎥 nonnie for requesting sm! means a lot! hope i do ur requests justice 🙂‍↕️
also i read throu this once and saw how much i did acts of service/gift giving LOL
and nonnie if you're seeing this i'll most likely do the other request you asked for!
featuring: Megumi, Nanami, Toji, Yuta, Toge, Yuji, Satoru, Suguru
warnings: breeding kink in suguru's, fem!reader in suguru's and gn!reader everywhere else!
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MEGUMI'S love language would be 🥁🥁
quality time with a sprinkle of words of affirmation!
✎ it's no secret Megumi prefers the idea of "together alone", aka just sitting in the same room each of you doing different tasks or even just scrolling on your phones. (you don't even have to be near each other, honestly-)
✎ one of his favorite activities to do with you is when it's later at night and you're sitting nearby him while he just rambles on about random facts he finds interesting.
✎ the fact you'll just sit there, smiling at him like an idiot while you hold him close to you as you listen to every word he says- even asking him questions about whatever it is he's talking about makes him feel all fuzzy.
✎ at this point you know every little thing that's going on in his book he sometimes likes to read outloud to you, saying his theories or random things that happen to contradict themselves in whatever it is he's reading currently.
✎ a lot of the time he'll awkwardly just clear his throat and apologize for rambling, but each and every time you compliment him by saying you love his voice as he speaks about anything he's passionate about he thinks he falls harder for you(if that was even possible-)
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NANAMI'S love language would be🥁🥁
acts of service/gift giving!
✎ Kento really appreciates coming home from a long day and being surprised by the fact the kitchen was clean when he was supposed to be the one doing it- or the smell of something cooking in the kitchen flooding his nose the second he opens the front door just, he just. he really likes it, ok?
✎ He knows he isn't able to be there for you a lot of the time (missions, teaching, ect.) so if you ever come home and he's somehow there before you you best believe there's some sort of little trinket on the table waiting for you.
✎ He's not one for pda all that much but you bet your ENTIRE ass that if he sees you after a long day he doesn't care where you two are because he is about to just hide in your arms while you rub at his back.
✎ And god forbid if he ever returns home and sees how excited you get to show him some random trinket you saw in the store- handing it to him and claiming it reminded you of him. He's literally teared up before over this- (don't call him out though he'll deny it-)
✎ Has an ENTIRE shelf just dedicated to random shit that you've gotten him, and if anyone even looked at it wrong he'd almost get offended (once again, don't call him out-)
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TOJI'S love language would be 🥁🥁
acts of service and gift giving! (home made gifts bc bro BROKE!)
✎ ok so we know the dude's kinda a jackass but he does NOT skip out on just randomly giving you just absolutely HIDEOUS homemade gifts.
✎ like? how does he even MAKE them so ugly ?? isn't he good with his hands....??
✎ anywayyy, he'd probably kill anyone(like, actually kill them-) if they ever tried insulting the fact you gave him an ugly stuffed animal that you said reminded you of him
✎ like "why does a grown ass man have a stuffed animal of an ugly monkey...?" then boom, they just got punched in the face
✎ do NOT interrupt this dude when it comes to anything you need. he may be pretty 'cold hearted' but he strikes me as the kinda guy to just stand in front of you if you even slightly squinted from the sun.
✎ he'd get a fucking plank of wood if there was a puddle so you don't ruin those new shoes you've been so excited to get.
✎ so tldr; he'd grovel for you for SURE- and if anyone questions if he loves you they're going home with a black eye 🥰
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YUTA'S love language would be 🥁🥁
words of affirmation/physical touch!
✎ ok let's be completely honest here- the dude's just everything starved. So when the two of you started dating (with A LOT of long months of convincing Rika to not obliterate your entire bloodline-),
✎ he was basically just all over you- though it did take a while for him to actually realize it was OK to want to touch you, that you actually liked it, that you weren't just pretending to enjoy it to spare his feelings or something.
✎ as much as he loves going out on dates with you (he'd spend all the money in the world just to see how your eyes sparkle whenever he buys you a new dessert you've been wanting to try-)
✎ his ideal thing would just be the two of you- his head on your chest listening to your steady heartbeat as you caressed his hair- your nails scratching at his scalp every now and then.
✎ and there's been MANY times he's just started crying into your chest while you hold him- just because you remind him how much you love him, how proud of him you were- you would go on and on for hours if it's what he needed to hear.
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TOGE'S love language would be 🥁🥁
words of affirmation!
✎ he just needs to know it's okay that he can't talk to you- that it's okay that at night when the two of you are alone holding each other close that it's enough that he's just there with you.
✎ toge loves whenever you compliment him- especially when it's about the marks on his face/tongue.
✎ the way you'll pull down the zipper of his uniform just to plant a kiss against each of his cheeks makes him melt.
✎ compliment him on literally everything please! he loves it so much and it means so much to him- like way more than you could imagine
✎ sometimes(ok, basically nightly-) he'll just be laying in bed, flushed face in his hands while he repeats the compliment you'd given him that particularly made him want to just get on one knee and propose on the spot
✎ I stg this guy is just a big baby- hold him and tell him it's ok and that's all he needs to make his day better tenfold.
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YUJI'S love language would be 🥁🥁
physical touch!
✎ I feel like it's so obvious that if you spot him from the corner of your eye you better believe he's about to full sprint to you in excitement and squeeze the ever loving SHIT out of you
✎ he's a spinner for sure- picks you up, spins you around just to hear how you giggle before complaining about how he's making you dizzy
✎ there's rarely a moment where he doesn't just want to squeeze the hell out of your cheeks, and he just fuckn LOVES to squeeze both his and your cheeks together while he tightly hugs you.
✎ if you're in bed together his face is always buried in your shoulder, laying gentle kisses against your skin.
✎ if he isn't being gentle and loving with his kisses he just grabs you by your cheeks and just SMOTHERS your face with kisses.
✎ also he thinks it's really funny to steal some lipstick from either you or nobara just to run up to you and put a FAT kiss against your forehead- leaving a hard to get off mark lasting for hours
✎ he insists on using the waterproof ones because he thinks it's funny to see you walking around with a mark on your forehead because of him-
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SATORU'S love language would be 🥁🥁
gift giving(as if that wasn't obvious enough- rich lil asshole)
✎ he does NOT care where you are, what you're doing- NADA
✎ he's runnin' up to you just to shove a shopping bag in your face and proudly putting his hands on his hips while he waits for you to open it.
✎ a few times you were too busy to open one of his gifts and he literally just opened it right in front of you and went "LOOK! LOOK, IT'S THAT BRACELET YOU WANTED- LOOKKK!" like a toddler trying to get his mom's attention.
✎ it always ends in a giggle and a "you need to stop buying these things, you're enough of a gift as is."
✎ he'll pretend to listen but at this point you know better than to believe he'll genuinely stop giving you random shit that reminded him of you.
✎ like what do you mean this ugly shirt that was WAYY too expensive that's also too big reminded him of you??
✎ what do you MEAN you had a mental breakdown because the shirt is a light color and you spilled wine on it and there was a stain that didn't want to come out-
✎ so tldr; DON'T LOOK AT SOMETHING IN THE WINDOW OF A SHOP. HE WILL BUY THE FUCKING STORE-
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SUGURU'S love language would be 🥁🥁
words of affirmation/gift giving receiving-
✎ he's on his hands and knees for you- NOPE- don't care if he's supposed to be the leader of this wacky ass cult- you're the only person who's aloud to even remotely give him any sort of order to do somethin'
✎ he likes to give you gifts also, but barely to the extent of Satoru- he prefers handmade gifts over anything store bought. But that's just because he's used to everyone buying him whatever he wishes.
✎ so it's a really nice change of pace whenever you bring him a new origami animal you've been trying to master.
✎ he even has a little table by where he sits up on the little stage, your little art projects resting on them as "beautiful decorations done by my lover."
✎ ^ that's what he says anytime someone asks them about it. he'll happily ramble about how excited you were to gift him each one.
✎ he's addicted to praise, it's actually kinda crazy at this point-
✎ you made a breakfast a small child could've made? he's kissing the ground you walk on for blessing him with a meal in the morning-
✎ plus- if you ever do anything for the girls just know he's about to give you an amazing gift- that gift being his cock while he overly praises your motherly actions.
✎ maybe he'll make you an actual mother just to see how much your loving actions change..
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M.LIST!
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ryker-others · 1 year
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Ryker 👀👀👀👀👀
I saw requests are open, could I have something about Dan Heng and Sampo being clingy? They're so adorable 🥺🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️
Vi! My first request! I'm so hyped for this! I hope I do both Dan Heng and Sampo justice for this
Dan Heng:
it's rare for Dan Heng to be clingy
and when he is, he's very subtle about it
most of the time it starts with little touches like him linking your pinkies while standing together
which then turns into him holding your hand
and then slowly moving closer
it's his silent way of asking for more affection from you
but if you still don't get the hint and give him attention after that, he will pull you into his arms
he's less likely to do this if others are around, but if it's people he's comfortable with like those on the Astral Express, he has no problem with them seeing him being clingy
he will just pull you in for cuddles without a word
Dan Heng gets a little pouty when you have to leave him to do something
but he won't stop you
whenever you have to leave he has a moment of hesitation as he tries to figure out how to get you out of whatever you need to do so you can stay with him
if he can't figure anything out he will very hesitantly let you go
but he wants your affection and cuddles when you come back
how can you say no to his adorable face?
"It'll only be a couple hours at most."
Dan Heng didn't seem to fully accept your reasoning. He had his arms around you, gently holding you close to him with his head on your shoulder. Though his eyes were closed, he was listening closely to everything you said. He just didn't want you to have to leave his arms.
"It's a simple mission right? You can ask March to do it."
"March has her own things to do."
He hummed and you felt his arms tighten around you for a second. He had done this before, but he seemed to really be thinking this one through.
"I'm sure March has some spare time. You could always ask Welt or Himeko too."
"It's my mission. I promise it'll be quick."
"But I want you here with me."
Though his tone was very plain and matter-of-fact like, you could hear the faint pout in his voice. You couldn't help but laugh lightly at his clingy tendency.
"Alright then, how about you come with me on the mission?"
You could feel him lightly smile against your shoulder. It was a solution he certainly was happy with. He gets to spend more time with you while you get your mission done.
Slowly, he unwrapped his arms from around you and moved one hand down to hold your own. His teal eyes looked into your own with such warmth and love.
"Then let's go."
Sampo:
this man is clingy all the time
he just can't get enough of your attention and affection
can you blame him?
he just loves you so much!
he hates when you're gone for too long and becomes so needy for affection
as soon as you get back, expect Sampo to be attached to you
unlike Dan Heng, Sampo is so open and obvious about how clingy he is
he will say just about anything for your affection
"What? I do my best thinking when I'm in your arms!"
he gets so upset when you have to leave too
"But who's gonna cuddle me and give me kisses while you're away?"
"Sampo I'll only be gone for an hour."
"I'm going to freeze without your arms and kisses to warm me!"
this is a common occurrence
Sampo will even hold you tight against him until you absolutely have to go and you have to convince him to release you
what could you possibly need to do that's more important than cuddles with your dear boyfriend?
"Noooooooooooo."
"Sampo we're completely out of your juice. I need to go get some more."
Your boyfriend has you in quite the predicament. He was out of juice, and he needed that in the mornings or else he would be grumpy. He claims his day doesn't start right without it.
But he also didn't want you to leave him to go to the store. Sampo had his arms around you as he laid atop you. You could see the pout on his face from his resting spot on your chest. It was one of his favorite ways to cuddle you and he loves feeling your arms around him. So of course he didn't want you to leave!
"But darling! You know I can't go out there right now! The guards are still on high alert for the great Sampo Koski after his latest performance."
"You'll be upset in the morning if you don't have it though."
"I can manage as long as I have you my love!"
It was a serious debate in your mind. Stay and cuddle with Sampo only having to deal with how grumpy he may be in the morning? Or leave him and go the store? He would survive if you left him (despite what he says), but he looks so cute and loveable in your arms.
As you weighed your options, Sampo gave you a smile and placed a light kiss on the base of your neck. Taking one look at that adorable smile, your mind was made.
"Fine, I'll stay here."
"Yay! More love from my wonderful darling. I knew I'm a lucky man."
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oddinary4bts · 1 year
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When the End Comes | ch 2 (jjk)
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☆summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?
☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in every chapter)
☆genre: breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut
☆warnings: moving, curses, alochol, explicit content: female and male masturbation, pain kink (Jungkook), mentions of blowjob and penetrative sex
☆word count: 8.7k
☆series masterpost
☆a/n: I don't even know what to say about this chapter, just that I FEEL their pain so much :'( justice for my babies
☆a/n pt2: Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this, you are the best <3
☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!
☆Add yourself to the taglist here (if you were on the taglist for The Forgotten Spaces, you're already on the taglist for When the End Comes!)
☆☆☆☆☆
But love never leaves a heart, where it found it, found it You found it Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes
When the End Comes, Andrew Belle
☆☆☆☆☆
Thursday, July 6th
                Days and weeks have passed. Apparently, even months have. Jungkook hasn’t really noticed – he’s been stuck in a daze, stuck replaying your breakup over and over again. Wishing he’d begged you to stay, though he could tell that nothing would have been fruitful.
You had made your decision already.
He hasn’t done anything since you left. Hasn’t left your apartment except for looking for a new one, when Yoongi forced him to go. Because alone, he can’t afford the one you had together. And it’s too filled with memories anyway.
All the pictures on the shelves by the window, turned towards the wall the night you left. The echo of your laugh, in every room he steps in. The ghost of you, just a silhouette he can’t ever reach when it’s dark and his mind is playing tricks on him.
The night you left, he thought it was a joke. A sick, twisted prank, and he believed you’d come back. When hours passed and dawn approached, he got up from the spot where he was sitting in, near the door, and turned the pictures towards the wall before heading to bed.
He hadn’t been able to sleep in the bed, and he’d slept with Bam directly on the floor.
A few nights later he’d made an actual bed with blankets on the floor, and he’s been sleeping there since then. But not tonight – tonight he’ll try sleeping in bed, in his new apartment.
A space that shouldn’t remind him of you too much.
He’s packed almost everything before today. He had nothing else to do, and it served to keep his mind busy during the long hours of the day. At night he usually has nothing to keep his mind from going to you, and he thinks he’s stuck in the moment when you left.
It’s a looped film in his mind, a horror movie that will forever haunt him.
The boys are helping. They brought most of the boxes he’s packed to his new place already, a small studio in the same building as Yoongi and Kiko. It’s on the other side of town, far from where he built a life with you, and he really hopes your ghost won’t follow.
Though he doubts he’ll ever escape it.
Everyone is currently doing a trip to the other apartment, except Jungkook and Yoongi. Mostly because Jungkook has been standing in the empty living room, save for the pictures on the shelves.
You left with the couch and the dinner table, telling him to keep the TV even though you were the one to buy it years ago. And that day you came to pick up your stuff…
Another haunting moment to add to the long list that’s been tormenting him since you broke up.
He shuts his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, jaw clenching as the familiar ache takes over his heart. He doesn’t want to cry today – at least not before he’s alone in his new place. Because he hates how his friends are concerned, hates that he can’t just stay home alone.
None of them understand the sorrow that’s been plaguing him – hell, all of them except Jimin are happily dating. A dirty, ugly part of him hates them for it, and he’s been trying to distance himself.
“You good?” Yoongi asks, startling him.
Jungkook’s hand falls to his side, and he forces his eyes open. Yoongi is next to him, an eyebrow cocked in question. “Yeah.”
“Do you want me to put these in a box?” Yoongi enquires, and Jungkook clenches his fist as Yoongi’s pointing to the pictures.
“I can take care of it.”
It takes him a few seconds before he does get in motion, and he heads to the shelves. There’s already a box waiting for the frames, one Taehyung put there earlier before Jungkook told him not to touch anything.
“Do you want help?” Yoongi asks carefully.
Jungkook steels himself as he grabs the first picture. He already knows which it is, from its placement on the shelf. It’s one of his exhibit’s pictures. The one he titled ‘Where I found hope again’. It’s the sunset from the living room of the apartment he’d found for you.
Seeing it hurts, but he barely pays attention to it, carefully putting it in the box before grabbing the next one. There you are, cheeks red and smile bright in the snow of December, and he feels like dying as he remembers the name of that one.
‘Where I learned to love again’. It feels like it’s laughing at him right now, like life is having a good laugh at his expense. He wants to throw it away, to burn and watch your beautiful form crumbling into ashes.
Instead, he puts it away, before moving to the next one. He thinks he goes blind – he doesn’t see the next pictures. Doesn’t focus on any of them, and lets the ache take over his action, over his heart. When he’s done, he realizes that the apartment is once again filled with voices – none of them being the right one, and he wishes to be alone.
Wishes to be allowed to crumble, to let himself be carried by the wind.
The rest of the day is a blur. He barely remembers getting to his new place, riding shotgun next to Jimin while Taehyung and Namjoon talked about something on the backseat. Jimin was silent, respecting Jungkook’s need to not speak, and maybe it’s for that reason that Jungkook says yes when Jimin asks if he wants some company when the others finally start filing out at the end of the day.
They all hug him tight, tell him that they love him and hope he’ll like his new place. With everything placed, Jungkook knows that he’ll always hate it, because it lacks the only thing that he truly wants – you.
And he’ll never have that again.
“Want to order something?” Jimin asks.
Jungkook is sitting on a kitchen chair, watching the condensation on his glass of water when Jimin speaks. He raises his head – his friend is scrolling on his phone, and he shoots Jungkook a look as he remains silent.
“Sure,” Jungkook finally answers. “Did you have anything in mind?”
Jimin nods. “There’s this great dumpling place nearby, and they deliver.”
“Oh.”
If Jimin notices Jungkook’s lack of enthusiasm, he doesn’t mention. Because Jimin is a good friend – he’s been one of Jungkook’s closest friends for years for a reason after all.
“Pork and green onion works for you?” Jimin asks.
“Sure.”
“I’ll get the marinated cucumbers too.” Jimin pouts at his phone as he focuses, and then his gaze darts once to Jungkook. “Anything else you want? They got bobas too.”
Just thinking about drinking boba makes Jungkook feel nauseated, so he shakes his head no. Jimin purses his lips, nods curtly and then says the food is on its way.
His statement is followed by silence, until the front door opens as Yoongi returns with Bam, as promised. Kiko was taking care of him all day, since she and Yoongi live in the same building. Yoongi promises that Bam was a good boy, and then he leaves again, nodding his head at Jimin.
As if to say ‘thank you for being here’. Jungkook hates the gesture, hates that he let Jimin stay, but he figures he can always just ask him to leave when they’re done with the food.
He had to eat anyway, right?
Needless to say, his appetite has been off, since the day you left. He’s been working out more though, something to keep his mind busy, but he’s been unable to eat like before. Jimin forces him to eat half the dumplings though, and Jungkook reckons that even after everything, dumplings still slap.
Not a lot of things in life still slap without you around.
One thing that does suck is, Jimin tries to make conversation through dinner. He asks Jungkook if he has any project coming up, if he ever plans on returning to Europe. The answer is easy, and Jungkook gives it without an ounce of hesitation.
“No.”
Jimin cocks an eyebrow, as if surprised by his answer. “Why?”
Jungkook grits his teeth, but offers no answers. He thinks it’s obvious – he’s been hating the European continent ever since the night you left because he can’t bring himself to hate you instead. So he directed it to the place that took you from him, and so far it’s been keeping him going.
“You know…” Jimin carefully says. “We’ve all been avoiding talking about it. But how are you even doing, bro? Every time I see you it’s just…”
Worse. He’s convinced that’s what Jimin was going to say, and he doesn’t blame him. It’s worse every time because he has been getting worse. As if adding another mark on the calendar equals to adding another on his heart, and the wounds haven’t had time to heal.
He doesn’t think there’s enough time in a lifetime to heal from losing you.
“I’m okay,” Jungkook lies easily.
Bam offers him salvation, barking by the door. As he rarely does, Jungkook gets up, a frown moving on his features. Jimin lets him go, even as Jungkook mumbles he’ll take the dog outside. His friend remains silent, and Jungkook is able to slip into the evening without Jimin pressing him about the lie.
As Jungkook had assumed, Bam just needed to pee, and probably barked because of the unfamiliar environment. Jungkook debates taking him on a walk, hoping Jimin would be gone by the time he comes back, but it feels too cowardly, even for him.
So he takes Bam in right away – the walk would have been hell anyway.
Jimin hasn’t moved while he was gone, and Jungkook tries to avoid the conversation by cleaning the table, putting away the empty dumpling container in the recycling bin after he’s rinsed it thoroughly. He feels Jimin’s gaze boring into the back of his head, but he does his best to ignore it.
“You shouldn’t drop your job in Europe,” Jimin suddenly says.
Jungkook whips around from his spot by the counter under which the recycling bin is. “What?”
“Isn’t it…” Jimin winces, shaking his head slightly. “Listen, this will be tough love, but isn’t it losing everything if you just… drop it too?”
Jungkook sees red. “Get the fuck out.”
“Bro.”
“Get the fuck out,” he repeats, putting emphasis on each word.
“We’re just worried about you,” Jimin says carefully, still not moving from where he’s sitting.
Jungkook has half a thought that he could carry his friend out if he wanted to, but surprisingly enough his heart breaks in his chest, tears blinding his vision.
“I just can’t go, okay?” he chokes out, and his nails dig in the palm of his hands as he clenches his fists hard. “I just can’t.”
Jimin watches him carefully, before sighing deeply. “Okay. It’s okay. There’s plenty of stuff you can do here too.”
Jungkook gulps, blinking the tears away until Jimin is clear in front of him again. “Can I…”
He stops, because he knows he shouldn’t ask. Knows he shouldn’t care, yet he can’t help himself. Jimin doesn’t press, waits for him to be able to speak. It takes longer than Jungkook thought possible, and he has to shut his eyes and lean against the counter before he finds words again.
“Can I ask how she has been doing?” he voices, words falling softly, almost soundlessly, in the space between them.
“Jungkook…”
“Just,” Jungkook lets out, eyes shooting open. “Please tell me she’s okay.”
Jimin’s silence is telling enough – you must be going through it too. It fills Jungkook with bitterness, with something vile and disgusting that tastes like bile on his tongue. Because you don’t get to be suffering, you don’t get to have made this decision and suffer from it.
Why the fuck did you make that decision then?
“You know,” Jimin starts carefully. “You guys were together for a long time.”
“Why?” Jungkook asks. “Why did she do this?”
And then the tears are moving freely, and Jimin quickly gets up to hug him. Jungkook rests his forehead against his friend’s shoulder as he breaks in the embrace, like he’s been doing for weeks now.
“It’s going to be okay,” Jimin promises when the tears recede and Jungkook stops trembling, as if his body, too, is too tired to keep on breaking.
Strangely, he gets the feeling there’s nothing left to break anyway.
“How?”
Jimin remains silent for a while, as if searching for the exact right words to say. Jungkook doubts they exist – how can someone repair a broken heart such as his?
“Life finds a way,” Jimin eventually chooses to say. He pulls away from the hug, though he still holds onto Jungkook’s shoulders. “Life always finds a way.”
Saturday, July 15th
                You’re tired. Have been tired. Think you’ll forever be tired. A relentless exhaustion has settled over you like a mantle of snow settles on the land during the months of winter. With it comes an unshakable cold, and even though it’s summer you’ve been cradling your hoodie to your frame, draping yourself with it as if it’ll chase the cold away.
The cold is never going to leave. You think your heart turned to ice in your chest, and it pumps freezing blood into your veins. You’ve been trying to warm up, but heat is a mirage to you, an illusion you can’t reach.
Heather and Bridget are hosting a dinner at their apartment today. You’d wanted to avoid it, but considering they offered you a room for a few weeks before you found a new apartment, you couldn’t say no. Yet you dread the moment you’ll be faced with the other girls, some of them your friends because they are dating… his friends.
You’ve been trying not to think about him too much. It’s hard – he’s lurking at the back of your mind, a reminder of your failures. Of the places where you went wrong, the mistakes you committed. Not that the breakup was a mistake – you think you made the right decision, or at least you’ve been trying to convince yourself that you have.
But you didn’t lie to him – you love him. Still do, though now it’s more like grief. Though, what is grief if not the next step in the eternal timeline of love?
You worry at your lips, bury your hands in the pocket of the hoodie. You fumble with your keys as you wait in front of the door, as you try to knock but find you’re unable to. Because it means talking to them, it means pretending that you have been able to eat or sleep for weeks.
You reckon Heather and Bridget know, to a certain extent. Saw you wither like a flower when autumn comes, though you think now you’re settled in deep winter.
You think it’ll pass. You doubt a pain like this can last – no soul can withstand it forever. But that would be admitting that he was your soulmate, and you aren’t stupid.
Soulmates don’t exist. Because if he was, why then was the distance enough to break you up?
You sigh, eyes falling to the ground in front of your feet. You take a steadying breath – it does nothing to help.
You’re a coward. You’ve become a coward, and you think it might be because you put all of your courage in that night weeks ago. It broke you, broke the steel you used to be able to drape yourself with.
Now you’re stuck in the never-ending winter, withered and lifeless.
“Y/n!” Jo says, and you startle.
You turn your head to the side to see Jo as she’s walking around the corner, and she smiles at you as she makes her way towards you.
“Hey,” you reply as your throat goes dry.
If he has a best friend, or at least a female one, you think it’d be her. They’ve been friends since before you reconnected with him, since before you even knew her. Seeing her feels like it’s wrong, but then again everything has been feeling wrong lately.
“Did you already ring?” Jo asks as she stops next to you.
You purse your lips, shaking your head no. “Huh,” you let out. “I was about to.”
Jo nods, and you think she immediately senses your unease. She’s a good person though, and an even better friend. She doesn’t say anything, and she rings the door for you.
You don’t know what to tell her. All that you can think of is, if someone has news about him, it would be her. She’s the only one you believe there’s a chance he’s been honest to.
Before you can say anything, the door opens and Bridget ushers you inside. You realize that you’re the last ones to get there – you usually never are. Usually always make sure to be the first, only so that you can help the hosts.
It seems losing him changed that.
You greet everyone half-heartedly, quickly moving towards Jiho. Jiho hugs you, tells you she’s happy you came. You can’t return the sentiment, so you offer her a tight-lipped smile as Heather announces that dinner is ready.
Their chatter is lively. You feel like you’re watching the scene through a frosted window. Like you’re stuck in a blizzard, watching people reveling in the warmth of the other side, wishing somehow that they’d share it with you. And it’s not that they don’t try; multiple times throughout dinner the other girls try to talk to you.
You reply, you always do, but there is just so little to say, so little words your brain can conjure up. It’s like your thoughts are slower – you’ve been that way at work too. You’re lucky, you haven’t been working on anything big in the last few weeks. But next week you will be, and you don’t even know if you’ll be able to do it.
At least Harrison is on the case with you. As one of the most talented junior partners of the firm, you think he’ll be able to manage the case even with you at his side.
You eat what you can, though you’ve run out of appetite before you even broke up. You force yourself, mostly because you don’t like how Kiko’s looking at you. How you notice her leaning to speak in Jo’s ear more than once during the meal.
You’re aware that they’re speaking of you – do they hate you as much as you hate yourself?
You doubt they can.
When dinner is over, you offer to clean the dishes. Jo ends up on washing duty with you, and you work in silence, water sloshing around as you rub the plates clean while she dries.
You’re cleaning a wine glass when she says, “How have you been?”
The question is a simple one. The truth isn’t so, and you wonder if you should lie. You think it’d be a mistake. Jo’s perceptive, she’d see right through the lie.
“I’ve been better,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders as if it doesn’t matter.
That much is a lie, because everything about him mattered.
“I can understand.”
Heavy silence follows, and you pass the glass to her. You hope she won’t speak more, hope she’ll offer you kindness and let you dwell on your mistakes, but you know it’s unlike her.
Indeed, she speaks up after a minute. “You know…” She pauses, and you glance once at her to find her features troubled. “I was wondering… what brought you to this decision?”
You freeze, hands in the water. It’s hot enough that your skin is turning scarlet, yet you barely even feel it. “What?”
“If you don’t want to speak about it it’s fine,” she gently says. “But I’m just concerned about you.”
“Did he ask you to ask me this?” you enquire, accusingly. You frown at the tone of your voice, and apologize as you resume washing the glass you’re holding.
“No,” she answers. “He hasn’t really been talking to anyone.”
You shudder, with horror and compulsion at the person that you were weeks ago, the one that caused him to isolate himself.
“Oh.”
Jo waits a moment, but when it’s clear that you aren’t going to speak again, she says, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t prod.”
You wet your lips, swallow around the lump in your throat. “It’s okay.”
Perhaps that’s also a lie. Perhaps you believe nothing is okay, nothing will be okay again. But you don’t voice it – it’s all your fault anyway.
“It’s okay if it isn’t okay, you know,” Jo gently says as you hand her a glass.
Your vision blurs, but no tears fall. No tears are left – you cry them to sleep every night already.
“Long distance is a bitch,” is what you eventually say. “You think you can make it through everything, and then long distance happens.”
You want to clench your hand around the third glass, want to feel the shards of it cutting through your palm like the shards of him have been stabbing through your heart. You force your grip to remain loose, lest you stain the sink with blood.
“Like for real, without it we would have been fine.”
You’ve told Jiho the same thing. You think you’ve told him the same thing, but you barely even remember the breakup. Just remember holding onto him at the end, and then winter seeping in through the crevices in your soul.
“I’m sorry.” Jo looks at you kindly when you glance her way. She offers you a sad smile that you want to hate, yet it just makes you want to break. “I’m really sorry it came between the two of you.”
You take a deep breath to tame the aching in your chest, nodding once. “It’s whatever.”
“It’s not.”
She’s right, so you remain silent. Choose to seek solace in a wordless moment, one you spend finishing the dishes. And when you’re done, and she’s wiping the last one, you find yourself asking, “How has he been doing?”
She stops moving, meets your gaze before letting her gaze drop to her hands. “As I said, he doesn’t really speak to anyone.”
“Which means he hasn’t been great.”
You know him enough to know that. She does too – she nods, before shrugging her shoulders. “Jimin and Tae have been making sure he’s okay though. Surviving.”
Because sometimes all there is to do is survive.
You’re relieved that his friends are there for him. It lessens the pain somehow, to know he’s not alone. You aren’t either – Jimin is your friend too and, even though she’s a mom of two, Jiho has been there for you ever since the breakup.
The first time Lisa asked you where Jungkook was though… felt like heartbreak uttered in an innocent sentence. Like the universe had gone wrong, like left and right were interchanged. You were lost then, and you still are today.
All at your expense.
“Good,” you answer.
She looks conflicted, pained – you understand why when she asks, “What about you?”
You clench your jaw out of reflex, as if it’s an accusation. As if admitting that you’re going through frozen hell is wrong of you, somehow. You think it is. After all, this is supposed to be better than the distance.
“I’ve got Jimin too, and Jiho,” you reply, voice strained. “Bridget and Heather too. They’ve been helping.”
Jo nods. “Good. Don’t isolate yourself.” There’s a pause, and her features turn pensive. “And you know, you got me too. You have all of us.”
Tears blur your vision, but like your soul they turn to ice before rolling down your cheeks. “Thank you.”
Smile apologetic, she nods again, as if her job here is done. And it must be – Kiko and Bridget walk into the kitchen, and they clearly don’t sense the atmosphere that’s clinging to you. They strike conversation with Jo, happily, and her stance switches to one that’s more relaxed.
You decide to leave them alone, because these three have always been a little closer to each other than you to them, and you return to the other room, where Chaeyeon, Valeria, Jiho and Heather are lounging on the couches. You debate leaving, debate claiming that you have to work early in the morning, but somehow you choose not to.
Is it a sign that you’re moving on? You don’t know.
When you do leave, later that night, at the same time as Jo and Chaeyeon do, you find yourself walking next to Jo as you head to your respective cars. Lance is picking Chaeyeon up, and she waves you two goodbye as you walk away.
You stuff your hands in the long sleeves of your hoodie, as if the air outside is remotely cold. It is not – there’s been a heatwave around for a few days. Luckily enough for you, a freezing heart seems to be a good remedy for the heat, and you still seek the comfort of your hoodie.
“I was wondering,” Jo says as you near where your car is parked. “Are you still planning on coming to the wedding?”
The forsaken wedding. The thing that set everything in motion – the spark that caught fire on years of your relationship.
You purse your lips, shrug your shoulders. “I think so,” you voice. “Yeah. You two are my friends, even if…”
If you’re closer to him. You don’t say as much, but it’s needless. Jo nods, understanding as ever, and she tells you that you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.
You think she’s a fool for believing that you wouldn’t want to go. Because… what’s wrong with wanting to make sure he’s okay with your own two eyes? What’s wrong with needing to see him in another context than this never-ending winter?
That night, you lie awake for hours. Picturing him behind your closed eyelids, only to find emptiness where he should be. The blankets are cold, the fan overhead not needed, yet you can’t bring yourself to turn it off.
Can’t chase the feeling of his absence from your heart.
You seek solace in memories of him, in the thought of his lips on yours. Of the featherlight kisses you used to exchange in the dead of night, when sleep was evading you or him. You must be half asleep – because suddenly you can almost see him here. Can almost hear his voice as he’d call you baby, mouthing the word against your neck before he’d suck on it.
Your heartrate picks up with the memory – they’re flooding in. The smell of his skin, the taste of his lips, the inebriating sweetness of his kisses. You remember the weight of him on you, the press of his knee between your legs.
And then you seek solace with a hand between your thighs, trying to remember how he touched you. How his long fingers always dragged you to a land of pleasure, how he’d managed to keep you there until you were insane with his taste.
You breathe out his name, a soft moan, though it’s almost a plea. A plea for him to appear, for him to never have been gone.
For you to never have pushed him away.
When you come down from the high that finds you in your memories, you lie on your side, holding one of your plushies to your chest. They don’t replace him; they never have.
You end up crying yourself to sleep over the memories, over the July night sky and the dance crew and every night you took for granted, believing that he’d be yours forever.
You cry for your decision, no matter how right it was. Because you know it’ll always feel wrong.
Friday, July 28th
                There’s something about work that’s been setting you on edge. That’s been making you want to pull your hair out of your head – if only that was possible. It’s strange; you’ve been thinking about the breakup less now that you’re neck deep in work.
Now that you spend hours upon hours at work, after the usual closing time.
Luckily enough, you’re almost never alone. Harrison accompanies all of those late evenings as you work through the case, as he tells you what to do and you tell him you don’t need his help. He laughs at that – Harrison has an easy laugh. It makes its way to his lips whenever you speak, and it’s been like a ray of light in the otherwise dark land of your heart.
He’s a good coworker. Someone that’s noticed just how bad you are, but that’s decided to not treat you differently. To let you nurse your heart in peace, while he offers you the normalcy of what work should be.
Today, at lunch break, he suggested going out for dinner and drinks, along with the rest of the team that’s been working on the case. Mostly because you’re finally closing in on something that is clearly going to be good, and he believes it’s important to celebrate. You don’t have it in you to say no, and that’s how you find yourself squeezed between him and Anna, the paralegal that you’ve worked with the most, in the booth of a nice pub near the firm.
You’ve been sharing a nacho plate with Harrison and Ian, another one of the junior partners of the firm, and you’re sipping on a glass of the pitcher of sangria that Anna ordered for you and her. The buzzing of chatter and laughter makes the pub into a lively place, and you reckon you like the atmosphere.
You like the plants that cascade from their pots on shelves in the walls, like the hanging lights that shine brightly onto the tables, like the brick wall that gives the pub a nice industrial vibe. It just feels right, different than your usual.
Or maybe it’s the fact that the crew is different. That you aren’t with people that inevitably remind you of Jungkook, even though they shouldn’t.
Harrison’s English accent catches your attention as he says something to Ian – something about leaving work related conversation to the firm. As you turn your head towards the man at your side, he offers you a glance.
Harrison has clear blue eyes. Pale, like they hold the Caribbean sea in them. His eyes are beautiful, sparkling, and you offer him a smile.
He’s quick to smile back, and then he continues his conversation with Ian, who’s decided to speak about sports instead.  You decide to join in, even though you know practically nothing about sports, and the two men tease you for it.
There’s no bite to it, yet it feels familiar. Reminds you of someone that used to tease you all the time, and with the sangria coursing through your veins, you decide to jump on the occasion. To let the past be the past, and live in this moment, for once.
Perhaps it holds some sort of salvation for you.
“It’s not my fault if football is boring!” you insist. “It’s just dudes throwing a ball. Who cares about that?”
Harrison nudges you with his elbow. “Hey come on,” he says. “They don’t only throw a ball, sometimes they kick it too.”
He’s got a teasing smile on his lips, and to your surprise you find yourself rolling your eyes. “And the point system? Stupid.”
“It isn’t!” Harrison says, faking offense. “You wound me.”
You cock an eyebrow as Ian laughs, before turning to speak to Sam next to him as the guy asks him a question.
“Aren’t you British anyway?” you ask him. “Why do you watch football?”
“Because I like dudes that throw balls,” he jokes, before realizing that his sentence sounded wrong as you burst out laughing. “Well, not like that.”
“No, of course not,” you tease back.
“It’s just a fun sport,” he insists. “Used to watch it with my step-dad when I was younger.”
Now, the revelation eases the teasing mood that you’ve been diving into, and you offer him a small smile. “Sounds like fun.”
Because you can get that. You can understand the need to love something because someone you loved introduced you to it – dance was that for you, once upon a time. When your mother had introduced you to it, when you were too young to realize that to her, you dancing was just going to be an accomplishment.
Until it became a curse, as you chose to not pursue ballet the way she wanted you to. But that’s old history – even though you still don’t talk to your mother all that much, the hatred you’ve held for her for years after she’s kicked you out is lesser now. Practically non-existent, and you have your therapist to thank for that.
Years of therapy really did help, eventually.
You realize, tonight, how you haven’t really been living since you broke up. You’ve been a mere ghost, a mere winter wind, but tonight you think the air warms up. It warms up into a tentative spring breeze, and you cling to it.
You say yes when Harrison suggests heading to a club after, a VIP one where he’s a member along with Ian. Say yes to the shots offered to you, and you ignore the texts in the group chat with the girls saying that they want to meet up for lunch tomorrow. You focus on the now, focus on the fact that he’s not all you’re thinking of.
No, his big, doe eyes barely exist in your mind right now, replaced by ocean blue and an English accent. At least that’s what you tell yourself as Harrison says he’s a shit dancer, and you admit you were on a dance crew for years.
He cocks an eyebrow, says you’re full of shit, and that’s how you find yourself pulling him to the dance floor, not caring that his hair is paler than your usual, that his smile rings different.
Harrison is not a good dancer. He’s awkward, clumsy, and he steps on your feet more than once as you dance face to face, swaying to the beat of the club music. The flashing lights feel like a haven, like you don’t have to hide in the darkness left by Jungkook’s disappearance from your life.
You let Harrison put his hands on your waist, let him pull you closer, until he’s resting his forehead on yours. Your eyes shut from the proximity, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath. Somehow, that’s what makes you remember – not the dancing, but the intimacy of the position. It makes you crave another, makes you need to forget, and you’re the one that closes the gap.
You’re the one who kisses him first, and he kisses you back all wrong. There’s something missing – the piercing, perhaps – but you don’t let it deter you. Focus on the swipe of his tongue on your bottom lip, and you sigh as you let him in.
But Jungkook is there, in your mind. When Harrison’s hands tighten on your waist, it’s in Jungkook’s hair that you want to thread your fingers through. When he groans softly in the kiss, as you bite his lower lip, it’s Jungkook’s lips that you want to be sucking on.
And you think it’ll always be Jungkook. He’ll haunt you forever – a reminder of your weakness, when it came to the distance. A reminder that, after everything, you’re the one that ruined it.
You’re the one that put an end to what was supposed to be forever.
It aches, coldly. You think your heart barely knows how to beat anymore. It’s erratic, painful, and when Harrison pulls away from the kiss, his blue eyes finding yours, you think his irises are made of ice.
“Hey,” he says gently.
“Hey,” is all you can think to reply.
If he sees the torment in your eyes, he ignores it. Guides you back to the table, where he leaves you with Ian and the rest claiming that he’ll get a water for you. And he does – he comes back with two bottles of water, and he hands you one as he sits next to you.
You think that’s what undoes you. That’s what breaks you, spills the content of your aching soul right there on the club’s floor. You don’t know who’ll pick up the mess – the one it belongs to is far away from these flashing lights. Far, yet closer than he was when the ending came. Somewhere in the city, you believe, because you don’t think he’s gone back to Europe yet.
Would he answer, if you were to call him? Would he pick up right where you left off, whisper sweet nothings in your ear as if you haven’t destroyed his beating organ?
You hate it. Hate how, weeks later, the torture hasn’t diminished. Hate how you believed it’d be just a few rough days, when it’s been weeks and months and winter hasn’t changed.
So you do what you do best. You escape. Tell the table that you have to go, and make it outside before Harrison catches up to you. He asks if he can walk you home, which makes sense because you live in the same complex anyway. Not the same building, but Harrison lives in the one across the small square-like courtyard between the three condo towers where you’ve found a place to rent after Jungkook.
Up above, stars twinkle in the sky. They seem unaware that, after that cataclysm of a July night, the story came to an end. Like the universe never meant it, when it put you and him together. Or maybe it’s you – maybe you created a new cataclysm. Wrote your own fate, and all that crap.
You’re getting dizzy. Both with alcohol and spinning thoughts, but luckily enough the walk is short. Harrison grants you silence, sensing that you need it, probably. Because he’s gentlemanly. Not that Jungkook wasn’t – it’s just different.
And you shouldn’t be comparing him to Jungkook, but it’s far too easy. Especially as your treacherous little mouth asks him if he wants to share a drink in your apartment, as you tell him that you feel better now that you’ve breathed some air.
He says yes, though he seems unsure. He seems unsure all the way up to your floor, and even more so as you pull him in a kiss when the door closes behind you and him. Especially as you breathe against his lips, “Do you think you can make me forget?”
After everything is done, and you lie awake next to his naked form, both of you staring up at the ceiling in silence, you know the answer to that question.
And it’s quite simple – no. Because no one will ever be able to make you forget the one you were supposed to be with until you turned to stardust. Until all that would have been left of the two of you was etchings on a stone, and memories in the space between this life and the next.
Harrison is kind – he tells you that he senses you shouldn’t have done it, gently. Tells you that the only person that can make you forget is yourself, and time. And when he leaves, he tells you not to worry about anything. That he can be a friend, if you need it, but that he doubts you want anything more.
He’s right, and you cry yourself to sleep holding onto Totoro and Appa, hoping weeks ago you would have listened to Jungkook when he’d said not to break up. Hoping to turn back time, cursing the linearity of it. Remembering the punctuate events of you and him, wondering how the distance was enough to undo your timeline.
The sun winks at you when it rises, mocking you as night ends, with no answer for you. The what-ifs shine as brightly as the rays of the morning, all of them piercing through your darkened heart.
You shiver and hide your face in Totoro, hoping one day you’ll be able to evade winter.
Friday, August 18th
                Jungkook’s first thought when he steps into the restaurant is that it’s too loud. Too bright, with happy couples and smiling families sharing a meal as if life’s never ended, three months and ten days ago. He feels like an imposter – he hasn’t smiled since you left, and hasn’t laughed since before that.
He doesn’t know why he agreed to this, when Taehyung suggested it. Maybe because Taehyung and Jimin can be firmly persuasive, when they decide they’ll do something. Though, this time around, they’re not doing anything.
Anything other than having set this blind date with one of Taehyung’s coworkers.
Jungkook decides to find solace in his thoughts. Away from the bustling crowd of the restaurant, into the cool darkness where he’s been evading since he moved to his new apartment. Somewhere where the pain is lesser, where he doesn’t cry all the time.
That’s where she finds him. A shy smile, rosy cheeks as she voices, “Jungkook?”
He meets her gaze, finds her long lashes as she looks up at him innocently. He’s struck – she’s way out of his league. But so were you, and he’s got a whole story to tell about you now. He looks around as if to make sure the girl was speaking to him, as if she didn’t say his name, before he answers, “I assume you’re Emma.”
Another shy smile, and Emma nods her head. “The one and only.”
Jungkook wets his lips, and when the server comes to bring them to a table, he lets his gaze drop to the ground as he follows behind Emma.
He sits in front of her, feeling odd as she blushes and looks through the menu. Her shyness makes him feel awkward, and he doesn’t know what to say.
With you, he always knew what to say.
He shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath and then lets his eyelids flutter open so that he can look through the menu too. He thinks, he just has to make it through the evening. Doesn’t have to see the girl again, even though her shy smiles are cute.
She is cute, but she’s not you. No one will ever compare to you.
He takes a deep breath once more, tries to push you out of his thoughts. For the first time in weeks, it’s not as hard. Maybe because his awkwardness is winning over, making him all too aware of every glance the girl throws his way.
They order, barely exchanging a word, until the girl throws him a lifeline. She asks about his photography, admits Taehyung told her about it, and Jungkook settles in his comfort space as he tells her about it, as he answers her question.
It’s impersonal, almost professional, but at least it keeps the pain at bay for a while. He even thinks he’s enjoying himself – by the time they’re eating and he’s drank half of his beer, he does feel lighter. Like he can finally breathe, like the hand clutching his heart in his chest has loosened.
Or maybe he’s just been getting too good at burrowing his feelings deep inside of him. Still, he barely smiles, barely laughs. And he knows none of his smiles quite reach his eyes, and he knows the girl must have noticed. She doesn’t say anything though, focuses on telling him what she does for work, and then goes on to tell him about what it was like for her growing up.
He zones out, nods when he figures he has to, tries to smile when there’s a lull in the conversation. He’s clearly not good at that – he’s never really gone on dates before. Except with Laura, before you, but even that barely counted as a date. Perhaps because he already knew Laura, and he’s struck thinking that the girl in front of him is a stranger. A stranger, yes, but she’s kind. So when she suggests sharing a bottle of wine, claiming that it’s her favourite and that she’s wanted to drink it in a long time, Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to say no.
Even though they’re already done with eating. She does order dessert, and he watches her eat as he nurses his glass of wine, taking sips from it once in a while.
He hasn’t drunk in a long time, and the effects start to be felt faster than usual. Or maybe the beer he drank before the wine was strong. Either way, his head starts swimming with alcohol before they’re out of the restaurant, and he relishes in the feeling.
Revels in Emma’s suggestion to take a walk to clear their head, along the small river near the restaurant. The evening air is fresh, though clouds hide the stars from view. It smells of rain – there are leftover puddles from earlier today – but it doesn’t seem like the sky will cry again tonight.
A soft breeze plays in Jungkook’s hair. He hasn’t cut it in a while. It used to be a lot longer, but he’s not used to it anymore, so it feels weird whenever strands of his hair pass in front of his eyes. He tries to push them back but to no avail: the strands stubbornly always fall in front of his eyes again, and he ends up giving up after a moment.
Turns out Emma is a gamer. She suggests playing some games together the next time they hang out, and Jungkook doesn’t have it in himself to tell her that they, as a matter of fact, won’t see each other ever again. Not because she isn’t sweet – she’s just not what he wants. And he doesn’t even want the distraction.
He did that once, and it didn’t serve him good. Even if he managed to have you in the end.
“What’s your favourite game?” Emma asks as she stops next to some railing overlooking the water. She leans against it, forearms resting on it as she looks at the water, eyes following the ripples in the river.
“I don’t game as much anymore,” he admits. He shrugs, tries to ignore the way his lungs burn.
Because he used to game with you next to him, and he doesn’t need reminders of you.
“Mine is Valorant,” she says, and she smiles at him as if she expected that to make him happy.
“Oh,” he lets out. He offers her a tight-lipped smile, and feels bad when her face falls a little. So he quickly adds, “I took you more for a Sims girl.”
She fakes offense. “What? Why?”
There’s a twinkle in her eyes, and he’s struck silent as he watches it. She seems to take that as a cue for something else, because she takes a step closer to him, eyes dropping to his mouth.
He thinks he’s frozen on his spot when she tilts her head back, tiptoes, and presses a featherlike kiss on his lips. Eyes wide opened, he watches her, until he figures he should be kissing her back.
So he does, hesitantly, as lead forms in his stomach, making him think that he’s going to be sick. Because she kisses him all wrong. Tastes all wrong too, and suddenly you’re burning in his mind, bright magma that moves in his veins until pain suffocates his lungs.
He takes a step back, and Emma’s eyes shoot open, as if startled. They stare at each other for a time, and then she gulps.
“I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t care for her apology. Doesn’t care about anything other than the fact that he feels disgusted with himself. And for what? It’s not like he owes you anything anymore. As a matter of fact, he should be enjoying this. Should be enjoying that even though he was his most awkward self, he still was able to get the girl to kiss him.
Instead, he burns and he chokes on his saliva as he tries to swallow. He wonders why his vision is blurry, and he furiously blinks his eyes trying to keep Emma in focus.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeats. “Gosh, I read this all wrong. I…” she pauses, shaking her head slightly, and it seems she’s been wearing a mask all evening, because it crumples into nothingness. “I just got out of a long relationship, Tae said you too and I just… Fuck I just assumed we could comfort each other?” When he remains silent, she continues, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”
She’s rambling, and Jungkook just hears his blood pumping in his ears. When he still doesn’t speak, she apologizes once more, and then tells him that she should go.
He doesn’t try to stop her, doesn’t even look as she walks away, head hung low in what he assumes is shame. All he feels is the deep burning sensation, as it settles under his skin. Like a sunburn – he wants to scratch at it, wants to rip it from his skin, but he can’t.
He can’t because you’re gone, and this ache is all that’s left of you. It’s all that’s left, so he clings to it. Tries to keep it close to his heart, where you belong. Picks at the scab, at the wound, until he’s bleeding all over again, breaking out in the city, where anyone can see that he’s lost you.
He doesn’t know how he makes it home. All that he knows is that he’s in the shower, later, head pressed against the tiles as cold water runs on his back. It mingles with the tears streaking down his cheeks, mixes with the saltiness of heartbreak.
It doesn’t cool the sunburn ache, doesn’t ease the pain in his chest. And you’re everywhere then – in the cracks on the wall, he believes he can see you. Believes he can reach out for you, though what he ends up doing is cranking the temperature of the shower up, until it’s not cold anymore.
Though he reckons he barely can feel it anymore.
So he forces his eyes shut, chases memories of you like a dog chases its tail – round in round, in a circle, because he thinks he’ll always circle back to you anyway. He imagines you, in all your glory. Imagines you’ve never left, imagines you’d still run your hands on his back, still dig your nails in his skin.
He doesn’t even know how his hand finds its way to the base of his dick. Doesn’t even know why he’s horny, why the pain makes him crave you more. Why it makes him touch himself, imagining it’s your touch. And with his eyes squeezed shut, you’re everywhere. The goddess of the land of his mind, and he can almost believe you’re still here.
He grunts, perhaps in pain, and picks up the pace on his dick. He remembers words whispered on your skin, your spit on his dick as you’d swallow around the tip. He remembers your tight walls, clutching him, holding him in as you’d ride him like there was no tomorrow.
He remembers a hot tub and the night that followed, remembers breaking and healing with you. Remembers the darkness of the accident, and the light you’d shine on him. The light is gone now, and only darkness remains. It’s not the same – it’s lonelier, somehow. Because he had everything, and now remains nothing. Just the ghost of what once was, and he wishes he could be taken back to the night on the hotel rooftop, wishes you’d never left.
And when he comes, it’s your name that he moans. Like a blessing, though now you’re a curse. A curse to him, and he wishes the pain would go away, wishes it would stay. Wishes it would bring you back, yet knowing he’d push you away. Because he doesn’t think there is pain as great as what you caused him, and then he curses himself for the thought.
That night, he lies awake in sheets cold as winter, weakened by his broken heart as he chases sleep that never comes.
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itendtothinkalot · 3 months
Text
page.soobin (classic enemies to lovers)
Summary: reader just opened a cute little bookstore cafe and soobin is a loud pretentious asshole that talks loudly on his phone lol
Genre: fluffy
Characters: soobin x f!reader
Words: 3k?? i think
Completed (oneshot)
tw: soobin's an asshole but like the good kind so does it really matter
a/n: i hope this makes up for the soobin in my last story sorry lol
It had barely been a year since ‘Pages’ had opened. You had worked hard to save up enough money to open your dream bookstore/cafe. A quaint little rustic-looking bookshop right next to the hustle and bustle of Seoul. Shelves lined with your favourite books, lights dimly lit to accentuate the atmosphere, the scent of freshly brewed coffee taking up space in your lovely quiet bookstore. Pages had been your haven. A getaway from the corporate world that sucked your energy. Having a previously well-paid job, however, did you justice. 
Though Pages was still new, you had already gained a few regulars who would occasionally pop in to read the latest editions of the mangas you’d specially acquired.
“Here. Especially for you, I even tabbed the best parts. Don’t skip ahead though.” You chuckled, smiling at one of your favourite customers who you befriended. 
“Thanks! I’ll have the usual, by the way.” Kai said, as his eyes scanned the manga you had just passed him. 
“It’s just you today? Where’s…uh…what’s his name again?” You enquired.
“Beomgyu?”
“No, the one who talks less.” You joked.
“Ah, Taehyun? He has work. C'mon now, I'm not good enough for you?”
You rolled your eyes, "I was just wondering. Taehyun was asking for a book and I finally found it!"
"I'll tell him about it. Thanks. You really are our favourite bookstore owner." Kai grinned.
"You're not getting another free drink from flattery." You rolled your eyes.
"Aw man."
"I'm kidding. The drink's on the house. The manga however is not."
"Deal!"
You nodded, turning to prepare Kai’s order when you heard the door chime once more.
Your heart sank a little as you saw Soobin walk in, his usual confident grin plastered on his face.
Soobin, the travel writer who had recently moved to town, had a knack for disrupting the peace of your beloved bookstore. He strolled up to the counter, oblivious to your internal groan.
Sure, he was good-looking. Sure, you've thought about how it would be like to be next to him calling him your boyfriend and showing him off to everyone but...dear God, did he also grind your gears.
“Morning! The usual, please,” Soobin said, leaning casually against the counter.
You forced a polite smile. “Good morning, Soobin. One iced Americano, coming right up.”
As you prepared his coffee, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of irritation and curiosity. Soobin’s presence always managed to throw your day off balance, yet there was something undeniably intriguing about him. It could’ve been his good looks or just the fact he was always talking about these wondrous travels that you’d never been on. You couldn’t decide.
Plus, he was just really hot.
“So, how’s the book coming along?” you asked, attempting small talk as you handed him his drink.
“Slowly,” he admitted with a sigh. “But this place helps. It’s got a charm that’s hard to find anywhere else.”
You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sincerity. “Well, I’m glad you like it here.”
He took a sip of his iced Americano, his eyes meeting yours with a teasing glint. “I do. Even if the owner is a bit of a tyrant.”
Your smile turned frosty. “Maybe if certain customers respected the rules, the owner wouldn’t have to be.”
His grin widened, unfazed. “Rules are meant to be bent a little. Keeps life interesting.”
“Interesting for you, maybe. A headache for me,” you retorted, your patience wearing thin.
“Come on, admit it. You’d miss me if I stopped coming,” Soobin said with a smirk, clearly enjoying the verbal sparring.
“Like a toothache,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “Just try not to scare off my customers with your loud phone calls.”
“Sure,” he said with a wink, turning to find his usual spot by the window.
As you watched him settle in, your irritation simmered. Soobin had a way of getting under your skin like no one else. It was infuriating, yet there was something about his confident, carefree attitude that you couldn’t entirely dismiss. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to Soobin than met the eye—but you weren’t ready to admit that just yet.
It was peaceful for the first 30 minutes of his presence. Then you heard Soobin’s atrocious ringtone blaring, shattering the calm like a sledgehammer through glass. That usually meant it was the end of your peace.
“Hello?” Soobin answered loudly, his voice carrying across the bookstore.
You clenched your fists, trying to maintain your composure. Customers glanced up from their books, their expressions mirroring your annoyance. You marched over to Soobin, who was obliviously engaged in his conversation.
“Soobin,” you hissed, trying to keep your voice low yet firm. “Can you please take your call outside?”
He looked up at you, seemingly surprised by your irritation. “Just a minute, I’m almost done,” he mouthed, holding up a finger, pressing them against your lips.
You crossed your arms, glaring at him until he reluctantly stood up and moved toward the door, still talking animatedly. As he stepped outside, you let out a frustrated sigh, hoping the rest of his call would be brief.
When he finally returned, he had the audacity to smile at you as if nothing had happened. “Sorry about that. Important call.”
You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Next time, please take it outside from the start.”
He chuckled. “You really do enjoy being a tyrant, don’t you?”
“And you really enjoy pushing my buttons,” you shot back, turning on your heel to walk away.
“Clearly.” He teased, following you further into your bookstore. 
As you continued to walk away, you felt Soobin's presence lingering behind you. Despite your attempts to ignore him, his persistence was impossible to overlook. You sighed inwardly, reminding yourself that he was just a customer, albeit a particularly annoying one.
"So, what’s the special today?" Soobin asked, trying to keep up with your pace.
You stopped and turned to face him, your patience wearing thinner by the second. "It’s written on the board, Soobin. Right where it always is."
He glanced over at the board, a mischievous grin forming on his lips. "Ah, right. Guess I didn’t see it. Too busy looking at the pretty owner."
You rolled your eyes, suppressing the small smile that threatened to break through. "Flattery won’t get you free coffee, Soobin."
He laughed, the sound oddly infectious. "Worth a shot. Anyway, I wanted to ask you something."
You raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious despite your irritation. "What is it?"
"I’m planning a feature on hidden gems in Seoul for my next piece," he explained, his tone more serious now. "I was hoping to include Pages. Maybe do a little interview with you about the place?"
You blinked, taken aback by his request. "You want to feature Pages in your article? What’s your motive?"
He nodded. "No hidden agenda, I promise. This place has something special, and I think more people should know about it. Plus, it might bring in more customers."
The idea was tempting. Any publicity was good publicity, and if it brought more people to Pages, it would be worth it. But you couldn't shake off the feeling that Soobin had ulterior motives.
"I’ll think about it," you replied cautiously. "I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the spotlight."
He shrugged, unfazed. "No pressure. Just let me know. It could be fun."
You watched as he returned to his seat, wondering if agreeing to his proposal would be a mistake or an opportunity. Soobin was unpredictable, but maybe there was more to his offer than just another way to get under your skin.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of coffee orders, book recommendations, and the occasional chat with regulars. Kai left with a satisfied grin, promising to return with his friends. As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the bookstore, you found yourself thinking about Soobin’s offer again.
Before you knew it, the day had ended, and you were locking up the store. The streets outside were quiet, a stark contrast to the busy day you’d had. As you turned to leave, you noticed a small note taped to the door.
"Think about the article. It could be great for Pages. - Soobin."
You sighed, pocketing the note. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was an opportunity to show Seoul what Pages had to offer. You decided to sleep on it, hoping a good night’s rest would bring clarity.
The next day, you woke up at the crack of dawn. A yawn escaped your lips as you rummaged through your bags for the keys to Pages. 
Sighing, you entered your beloved bookstore. Humming your favorite song, you unlocked the door, inhaling the aroma of the coffee beans you had meticulously selected.
“Am I your first customer today?” You spun around to see Soobin grinning. His tall stature loomed over you, and the strong smell of his cologne filled the air. The toothy grin plastered across his face was unmistakable. He wore a large sweater that hid the muscles you remembered seeing the day the A/C broke, and he had to take off his hoodie. That had been a good day.
“We’re barely open,” you answered, your voice barely a whisper from the sudden surprise of his presence.
“Well…I just couldn’t wait to hear your answer.”
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Soobin, it's way too early for this kind of enthusiasm."
He laughed, the sound echoing pleasantly through the empty bookstore. "Come on, just give me a hint. Are you going to let me do the interview?"
You crossed your arms, pretending to ponder. "I still need my morning coffee to think straight."
Soobin raised an eyebrow, looking at you expectantly. "I'll make a deal with you. If you say yes, I'll buy the first ten customers their coffee today."
You couldn't help but laugh at his persistence. "Bribery now, huh?"
"Call it incentive," he replied with a wink.
You sighed, feeling your resolve waver. "Alright, fine. We can do the interview. But if you turn this place into a circus, I'll never forgive you."
Soobin's grin widened, and he pumped his fist in victory. "Deal! I promise it'll be great."
You shook your head, amused by his excitement. "Okay, okay. Let's get started before I change my mind."
As you prepared Soobin’s usual iced Americano, you couldn’t help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nervousness.
"So, where do you want to start?" you asked, handing him his drink.
Soobin took a sip, his expression thoughtful. "How about we start with you? What inspired you to open Pages?"
"Well, it was always a dream of mine. I wanted a place where people could escape, find comfort in books, and enjoy a good cup of coffee. Leaving the corporate world was scary, but this... this feels right."
He nodded, his eyes genuinely interested. "And it shows. This place has a soul, and that’s rare."
You blushed slightly, not used to such earnest compliments from him. "Thanks?"
“Not used to compliments, I see?” Soobin teased.
“Not from you.”
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Don't get used to it. You're still on thin ice for all those loud phone calls."
"Fair enough," he conceded, still grinning.
"You know, you're not that annoying when you're serious," you blurted out. "Sorry, that was supposed to be a thought."
"We're getting passive-aggressive," Soobin teased.
"It was supposed to be a thought," you repeated, trying to defend yourself.
"It's quite freeing to know I've had such an effect on your life," Soobin chuckled.
"Shut up," you said, rolling your eyes.
"I'm kidding. I guess I can be quite an asshole at times, but it's only because I don't know how to act around a pretty girl."
"Stop messing around," you said, feigning annoyance, though your heartbeat was telling you otherwise. "Is any part of this even in your interview notes?" you asked, gesturing to his laptop.
"Oh, no. None of it," Soobin admitted, still grinning. "Just getting to know my favorite bookstore-slash-cafe owner. Is that a crime?"
"Of course not. What's supposed to be a crime is your lack of social etiquette." You joked.
Soobin laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Guilty as charged," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But I'm willing to learn if you've got some pointers."
"Maybe walk out of the store when you have a call?" You said, raising an eyebrow.
"Right." Soobin chuckled.
"So, besides the loud phone calls and my general presence, what's your biggest pet peeve about running Pages?" Soobin asked, leaning in with genuine curiosity.
You thought for a moment, considering how honest you wanted to be. "I guess it would be dealing with the occasional rude customer who doesn't respect the space or the books. But honestly, most people who come in are wonderful. They get what this place is about."
Soobin nodded thoughtfully. "I can see that. This place has a certain... aura. It’s like a sanctuary."
"That's exactly what I wanted it to be," you said, smiling. "A place where people can escape and just... breathe."
"So about the...'wonderful people' you're talking about, does any of those include a travel writer?" Soobin peered.
You paused, meeting Soobin's gaze. There was a playful glint in his eyes, but you could sense a genuine curiosity beneath it. "Well," you began slowly, "there's this one travel writer who likes to test my patience."
"Is he hot?" Soobin asked.
"If you consider an ogre hot, sure." You joked.
Soobin chuckled, feigning hurt, clutching his chest. "Ouch. In my defense, testing one's patience is one of my specialties. But seriously, I hope I’m not always a nuisance."
"You have your moments," you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But you also bring a certain... energy to this place."
"So, is that a compliment?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't get too used to it," you replied, trying to hide your amusement.
As the day progressed, you and Soobin delved into the story of Pages. You talked about the challenges you faced, the joy of seeing regulars like Kai and his friends, and the special moments that made all the hard work worth it. Soobin took notes, his demeanor professional yet warm, making you feel surprisingly at ease.
You weren't going to lie, the interview made you see Soobin in a different light. He was surprisingly sexy when he was being serious. His eyebrows would furrow when trying to get information across and his posture forward almost leaning towards you.
The way he listened so intently, his focus entirely on you, made your heart flutter more than you'd like to admit. You tried to keep your composure, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the growing attraction you felt towards him.
It wasn't your fault. You had always found him incredibly attractive albeit the loud phone calls.
By the time the first customers arrived, the interview was wrapping up. Soobin stood up, a satisfied look on his face. "I think we’ve got everything we need. Thanks for trusting me with this."
You nodded, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "Just make sure you do justice to the store."
"Don’t worry," he said, flashing that familiar grin. "I’ll make sure it's perfect."
As he retreated to his seat, you felt a renewed sense of friendship. Maybe, just maybe, Soobin wasn’t as bad as you’d initially thought. Only time would tell, but for now, you were content with the decision you’d made.
It had been a few hours since the interview. Soobin was still in his usual corner, typing away, God knows what, with a serious look on his face. Holding a cup of juice in your hands, you walked toward him and placed the glass on his table.
“I didn’t order anything,” Soobin said, looking up at you.
“It’s on the house. Too much caffeine can't be good for you,” you replied, smiling awkwardly before making your way back to the counter.
As you reached the counter, you glanced back at Soobin, who had paused his typing to take a sip of the juice. He gave you a nod of appreciation, and for a moment, you felt a sense of camaraderie that was rare with him.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of regular customers and new faces, each interaction reinforcing why you loved this place so much. As closing time approached, Soobin finally packed up his things and walked over to you.
"Thanks for the juice," he said, his tone softer than usual. "I really needed that break."
It was a moment of peace before his annoying ringtone went off. He looked up at you sheepishly.
“I’ll take it outside this time,” he chuckled, walking off.
You laughed, shaking your head, and turned your attention back to your work. Glancing to your left, you noticed the large pile of rubbish that hadn’t been thrown away. You groaned at the thought of lugging it into the alley. Pulling the large bag of rubbish out from behind the counter, you made your way to the back alley.
“Yeah. I’ve done the interview.” You heard Soobin’s voice echo from the back of the alley.
“Yeah. I think it’ll do great. The article. She’s got some solid work ethic and the cafe itself is a really good idea. Her thoughts are well articulated. The article's gonna be great.”
You smiled at the compliments, assuming he was talking about you. Your cheeks heated up from listening into the conversation. You felt bad for eavesdropping but this was precious information you could use to your advantage.
“Oh? What? The owner? Nah, she’s a little bit pretentious. What? Pretty? She's okay, I guess. She… she’s not that pretty in real life. The picture was doing her justice.”
Your smile faded instantly, your heart sinking at his words. You quickly turned back, dragging the bag of rubbish with a renewed sense of determination, refusing to let his words affect you.
As you heaved the bag into the dumpster, you couldn't help but replay Soobin's words in your mind. Anger and hurt mingled, forming a bitter taste in your mouth. You had always suspected he enjoyed pushing your buttons, but hearing such harsh comments felt like a betrayal especially after the interview where you felt like you had bonded with him.
Returning to the store, you busied yourself with closing duties, trying to shake off the sting of his remarks. You were scrubbing the counter with more force than necessary when you heard the door chime. You looked up to see Soobin, who had finished his call, walking back in.
"Everything okay?" he asked, noticing the change in your demeanor.
"Yeah, just finishing up," you replied curtly, not wanting to engage further.
Soobin frowned, sensing something was off. "Did something happen?"
“No and even if it did, what makes you think I’d confide into a loud pompous asshole?” You gritted your teeth, turning away from him, your ponytail smacking him in his face.
“Fucking he- Ouch!" He rubbed his cheeks from where your ponytail had smacked him. "What? What’s going on with you? I thought we were cool?”
"Cool?" you repeated, your voice rising in pitch. "You think we're cool after everything you've said and done?"
Soobin looked genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?"
“Nothing. You’re right. I’m pretentious. And maybe I’m not that attractive to you but to hear you say that to another person? Wow.” 
Soobin's eyes widened as the realization hit him. "Wait, you heard that?" he said, taking a step back. "It's not what you think."
"Then what is it, Soobin?" you demanded, crossing your arms tightly across your chest. "Because it sounded pretty clear to me."
“You don’t understand,” Soobin said, his frustration evident.
“What don’t I understand?”
“That was my editor.”
“Okay?”
“His name’s Yeonjun. He’s a good-looking and decent guy.” He explained, even thought you were still clearly ever so clueless.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“He was asking for your number. He saw the picture I took of you for the article and thought you looked cute.”
“And?” You looked at him dumbfounded.
Soobin rubbed the back of his neck, looking flustered. “Je- I- Fuck. I didn’t want him to know how cool you were.”
“What?”
“Look, you’re cute. You’re my type. You’re all kinds of pretty. But you’re also someone I kind of want to gatekeep.”
“What?”
“I can’t make this clearer even if I tried,” Soobin said, his voice softer now. “I like you, okay? I didn’t want him to get to know you because I’m selfish. I wanted you all to myself.”
Soobin's admission left you momentarily speechless. "Oh," you managed to say, your mind racing to process his words.
"Yeah, oh," Soobin echoed, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just... I don't know, being stupid and jealous."
"If it makes you feel any better, I, too, find you..." You paused, "Cute."
Soobin's eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. "Really?" he said, a slow grin spreading across his face. "I always knew you had good taste."
You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your smile. "Don't get too full of yourself, Soobin."
He took a step closer, his confidence unwavering. "Oh, come on. Admit it. You find my charm irresistible. It’s okay, most people do."
You laughed, shaking your head. "You’re impossible."
"So, how about we start over?" Soobin suggested, his tone playful yet sincere. "As friends, or maybe something more. I promise I'll only annoy you half as much."
"Only half?" you teased, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.
"Alright, a quarter," he conceded with a wink. "And I’ll take my phone calls outside. Most of the time."
You couldn’t help but smile at his persistence. Despite everything, there was something undeniably magnetic about Soobin. "Deal. But if you ever call me pretentious again, I won’t hesitate to throw you out of my store."
He laughed, the sound warm and infectious. "Fair enough. But just so you know, I’ve been told my obnoxiousness is part of my charm."
"By whom?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
"By people with excellent taste," he said with a smirk.
You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of joy and mischief. "So, you like me?"
"Yeah," he said, his voice steady now. "I like you a lot. And I'm sorry if what I said made you think otherwise."
You bit your lip, contemplating his confession. "Well, you could have just told me."
"I know," he admitted, looking down at his feet. "I guess I was scared you'd reject me or think I was just messing with you."
“Well…can you blame me? You're quite the comedian sometimes.” You chuckled.
"Y'know what I don't blame you if you did doubt me."
"Really now?"
“Yeah. I get it. I'm kind of an asshole. But it's only because I like your reactions. They're pretty, um," Soobin stopped. "Charming, I'd say."
"So you think I'm charming?" You teased.
Soobin looked up, catching the playful glint in your eyes. "Yeah, well, when you spend as much time together as we do, you pick up on things. Like how your eyes light up when the new books arrive or when Kai tells you a stupid joke, and you tilt your head back to laugh, then get self-conscious and cover your mouth as if half the cafe hasn't heard your snort."
You laughed softly, feeling the remaining tension dissipate. “Okay, maybe you do know me better than I thought. You're quite the observer, aren't you, Soobin?"
"When you're a writer like me, you tend to observe things that are...more enchanting."
"Enchanting, huh. Big pretty words don't impress me, Soobin." You teased.
"I love a challenge," Soobin replied, his eyes gleaming with arrogance. "And let's be honest, how hard can it be to impress you?"
You rolled your eyes, half-amused, half-irritated. "Don't get too cocky, Soobin. Just because you can string a few sentences together doesn’t mean you can charm everyone."
"Is that so?" Soobin leaned in closer, his confidence palpable. "I seem to remember you admitting you find me attractive. Sounds like I've already charmed you."
"Attractive, maybe," you shot back. "But charm? That's a stretch."
"If only you were as nice as you are an asshole," You rolled your eyes.
Soobin laughed, the sound rich and unapologetically self-assured. "Nice guys finish last, don't they?" he retorted, a smirk playing on his lips.
You crossed your arms, meeting his gaze head-on. "We'll see if arrogance gets you anywhere."
He shrugged, unbothered by your challenge. "It got me this far. Why change a winning strategy?"
"Winning?" you scoffed. "The game hasn't even started."
Soobin’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "Then consider tonight the first round. I'll pick you up at seven."
"Still assuming I’m free?" you countered, trying to maintain your composure.
"Aren't you?" Soobin's confidence faltered for a split second, a shadow of doubt crossing his face. There it was. Though, Soobin, was trying his best to look like a go-getter, the most confident man alive, he felt like he was still just a shy little boy in front of his crush.
"Actually," you said, your tone softening slightly, "I might be."
He looked at you, a bit more serious now. "Look, if you're not interested, just say so. I can handle it."
"I didn't say anything. I was just waiting for an apology. Y'know from the time you lied to your friend? Calling me pretentious? Ugly?"
"I never used the word ugly."
You raised an eyebrow. "That's what you’re focusing on? Really?"
Soobin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, I admit it. I might have said some things that weren't exactly fair. It was on impulse. You do stupid shit when you like someone. I'm stupid. I'm an idiot. I don't...I've never liked someone before or asked someone out. Cut me some slack." You see his confidence being brought down by a peg every second he further explains himself. “I’m sorry.”
You chuckled, "Gosh, you really do like me, huh?"
"Fuck off. You're just as pompous as I am."
"It's a part of the charm, isn't it?"
“Sure,” Soobin said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, “so, are we good now?”
You nodded, the warmth in his eyes melting the last of your anger. “Yeah, we’re good.”
He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, seeming much more serious than he had been just a minute ago. “Good. Look despite, all the jokes I'm cracking, despite, how much of an asshole I've been, I actually really like you. I don’t want to lose you. Not as a friend, and not as something more."
Your heart fluttered at his words. “Something more, huh? We’ll see about that.”
Soobin grinned, the mischievous spark you were used to back in his eyes. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. “Okay, Mr. Talks-too-loud. Let’s finish up here and see if you can impress me over dinner.”
“Challenge accepted.”
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py-dreamer · 7 months
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So... I know I'm late...
But yea! I said I was coming back with some stickers and I kept my word! I would've hoped that I could've completed the sheet in like a day but as you can see...that didn't work out
I know I've been a bit MIA lately but burnout sucks. I do have a lot of WIPS I really want to work on but again, it seems that the ProcrastiNation hath struck my feeble mortal brain again.
But anyways:
I headcanon Aroace Mei, just a personal headcanon (disagree if you like) I also like lesbian Mei but thought I'd give some aroace appreciation
Silktea was only given 1 episode but OH BOY did it fuel our wild shipping habits. And I jumped on the bandwagon. It's a reference to that scene in She-Ra where Scorpia tells Catra she 'didn't want to do this' then wraps kitty up in the blankey and cradles her like a wee baby. And Sandy would do that for any friend, I will die on this hill
Saw a fanart where Mk had a pig nose themed pacifier and I just yoinked that idea. The pig hoodie and the pacifier seems like something Tang would do for Pigsy (also to get away with free noodles cause who can say no to that face?~)
Mac showing Wukong the lantern. What can I say, mans' fascinated by them pretty lights. Though our little performer's eyes seem to be straying from the show (^u ')
I know many people have issues with shipping with Nezha and such and I know the two had a rough history but y'know what fans do; they love to make the people who kill each other soulmates (platonic, romantic or otherwise) Even if it wasn't romantic, I still love the idea of them being buddies and just chilling, the danger noodle prince and the angy prince snuggle and watch a movie (mainly from Nezha 2019 but I also saw New Gods and can I just say, I want those two twinks to bicker then kiss awkwardly and I want Yun Xiang to BEAT. HIS. ASS) but in case anyone asks, I do perceive Nezha to be a consenting adult in general outside shipping drama and if the two are adults, it does make my heart squeal when I see these two hold hands and whatnot
HOW COULD I EVER FORGET MY SPICYBOIS, inspired by that one Ponyo kiss scene. I was actually gonna make a bigger piece but then I saw someone do it already in a much better fashion than I ever could and I just gave up on the idea but Ig here, its just like the two cakes mentality and I gave it a go. Hope I could do the concept justice
Have spider queen or scorpion queen ever interacted before? No. But they are both queens and I believe Spider Queen's confidence could rub off on Scorpion Queen and she'd appreciate the company of Spider Queen's children henchmen. Also she give yummy food so lesbian venomqueens for the win
Redraw of that moment with Peng and Azure. I normally detest that bird but these two do get some gears grinding and whatever anyone says. Neither of those two are straight. I'll tell ya that.
Toxicinsanity is another rarepair that had like 1 sec screen time. I don't think they'd ever work out in canon and had virtually no chemistry. I still love all the fluffy ship content I can find of them though and if it ever were to happen. I think the mayor would scare the sh!t out of Syntax
Let's get at least one hetero couple here, Chang'e and Hou'Yi are a couple of favorites ngl, I took most of their outfits from Over the moon cause both of them looked stunning, Chang'e especially. I've seen people ship mah girl with other people and while I do agree it's healthy to move on, in my heart she will always long for Hou'Yi
Also irl, on valentines, my mum took us out for lunch, she treated us to bubble tea and donuts. We walked home so I waited to drink mah drink in my room while I drew and I accidentally finished it all... I'm so sorry mum
f*ck I forgot ironbull. Uhh....I'll draw something later, rn I need to go to bed before I get yelled at...
click pic for less sh!ty quality!
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as much as i love buggy, i’m gonna request sanji for the fluffy alphabet!
let’s go foooor… C, D, N, U, and Y please! (my goldfish brain forgot if you said five at the most lol)
i love your work sm and i really wish you all the best!
Yay flirty chef!! Most of the requests for the Fluffabet have been Mihawk so far, which I am NOT COMPLAINING ABOUT I love him a very abnormal amount; but Sanji is just so precious and writing for him just
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*melts into a silly giggling puddle*
Aaaaanyway. I very much want to thank you for requesting the letter U, I've kind of been looking forward to it, since it gives me creative freedom to brainstorm further and deeper into the characters and their quirks/psychologies, and I always love doing that.
Thank you for the request, and I hope you enjoy!!!
Also feel free to come back and make requests for Buggy, as I've gotten none for him yet at all. Sad clown noises.
Also also, since someone else asked, requests for the Fluffy Alphabet will remain open until all letters are claimed for all characters; and I'll still accept requests for other characters I haven't listed if I feel I can write them and do them justice, I just listed the ones I did because they're the ones I've written the most. Until I state on my Masterpost that requests are closed, they are very much open!!
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C is for Courtship (How would they court you?)
“The heavens must be dull these days with their most beautiful goddess stuck down here.”
Firmly believes it was love at first sight, and Sanji is absolutely determined to win you over. As much as he wants to pull you in by your hands, wrap his arms around you, and tell you he’s loved you since the moment he first laid eyes on you; he also doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries and risk blowing his chances.
Flirty, flirty, flirty. He can’t help it, it's just what he does—but he’s respectful about it, dropping silly little lines designed to make you giggle, hopefully make you blush a little. Beyond that, though, he’s going to make every effort possible to legitimately get to know you; your likes and dislikes, your goals, your dreams, everything, wanting to ensure that you know he’s interested in you for more than just being a pretty face that happened to catch his eye.
If you flirt back, you’re never going to be able to get rid of him, he’s your responsibility now, basically a lost puppy that followed you home, end of story.
He’s bent on impressing you, so your first date he’s going to insist on cooking for you, just the two of you—meeting you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers (he made sure to ask in passing about your favorites at some point beforehand), with a light kiss on the cheek and a soft touch at your waist.
D is for Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning and other such household chores?)
“No, no, you sit down and relax, I can handle this, love. Really.”
Settling down with you would be a dream come true. He does have his dream of finding the All Blue, but if you’re willing to come with him on that adventure, then the journey there would be just as much of a dream to him as the destination itself.
It doesn’t take him very long at all to decide that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, and he’ll do anything to make that happen.
He’s quite cleanly and organized in general—having spent the better part of his formative years working in a professional kitchen, it’s become a force of habit. If something needs to be cleaned, to be tidied up or organized, he’s going to do so automatically, without even really thinking about it. He would much rather just see you relaxing, will probably protest a bit about you “doing too much” if you lift a finger to so much as sweep a floor.
You already know that cooking is handled. Cooking, kitchen maintenance in general. That goes without saying. Even if you enjoy cooking as well and you want to cook with him (absolute bonus, he loves cooking with you), he’s going to be right behind you wiping down the counters, washing and drying all the dishes as you go before you even have a chance to drop them in the sink.
N is for Needs (What do they need in a healthy relationship?)
“I don’t know how I ever survived without you in my life, sweetheart.”
Sanji can be a bit on the needy side. It isn’t that he lacks confidence, or that he absolutely requires constant reassurance—he just adores you, and wants to spend every minute possible with you, making sure that you know how precious you are to him.
If you’re near him, he needs to be touching you in some capacity. Whether it’s subtle, his hand resting at the small of your back while he stands next to you, or his arm curled around you and touching your waist; or if he’s pulling you back against him, arms around your waist or hands at your hips, resting his chin at your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your cheek, he always wants to be close to you.
Constantly telling you how much he loves you, showering you with praise for every little thing you do. If it gets to be too overwhelming he will back off—but you’re still going to catch him out of the corner of your vision with his own eyes glued to you, smiling and sighing as if you’re the single most incredible thing he’s ever laid eyes on.
That being said, if you argue about anything at all, he’ll be an absolute wreck, apologizing incessantly and begging your forgiveness; and he might need a fair amount of reassurance after the fact that you aren’t upset anymore. He can’t stomach the thought of upsetting you, because losing you would utterly devastate him.
U is for Unique (What’s something unique about them that no one knows but you?)
“It’s fine, just couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d get a head start on breakfast. You can go back to bed.”
Cooking is of course his passion—but it can, and sometimes does, double as a coping mechanism. He has a deeply troubled past, and every so often it might plague him in the form of nightmares.
In which case you’ll often  wake up to find his side of the bed empty; to find him in the kitchen in the wee hours of the night or morning, while everyone else is asleep, either prepping meals for the day or experimenting with new recipes to set his mind at ease.
He’s happy to accept if you offer to help, or if you just decide to sit up with him and offer your company. He’ll probably try to convince you to go back to bed, that there’s no need for you to lose sleep, but he’s not going to turn you down if you insist. It’s a gamble whether or not he’ll talk with you about what’s bothering him, or if he’ll keep a bit more quiet than usual while he immerses himself in his work. Either way, he appreciates your presence and your support more than you could ever know.
The menial, repetitive task of preparing ingredients in particular offers a pillar of stability and structure that helps him to breathe a little easier, to sort through that turmoil and make better sense of it; while the act of experimenting with something new helps steer his mind back to the present rather than dwelling on what woke him in the first place.
Y is for Yearning (What’s something that they yearn for when you’re separated?)
“Oh, no, love, I assure you, I definitely missed you more.”
It would be better to ask what he doesn’t yearn for. He simply can’t stand being apart from you, for any length of time. It isn’t that he doesn’t trust you, that doesn’t even cross his mind. He knows you’ll come back to him. He just can’t stand the length of time that you aren’t there.
Your touch, your scent, your face, your eyes, your body—your smile, your laugh, your voice, your embrace, your kisses—whether it’s minutes or hours or days that you happen to be apart, you’re the only thing that he can think about, having you back by his side, in his arms, safe and sound.
Life on the sea isn’t the safest, and he’s going to spend the entire time you're apart worried that something might happen to you. Even if you’re capable of handling yourself, he would feel much better being with you, knowing that he’s there to keep you safe.
And when you are together again, he makes it very clear just how much he missed you, all but literally gluing himself to your side, incessant in his insistence of how much he missed you, how he doesn’t ever want to spend that long apart again.
Even if it was only five minutes. Doesn’t matter, time is irrelevant, any amount of time away from you is far too long.
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how-very-superbat · 11 months
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ADORABLE Superbat Fics
I haven't posted some recs in a bit, so I'm gonna do these. I've been reading a lot lately, and keep actually forgetting the plot because they all blend together, but a couple of these really stood out to me. I'll mark them with a **
Also a couple of these are a bit angsty sometimes, but overall really cute!
Long Day by em13bubble (2k) Bruce has a rough day. Clark comes to his office to help him relieve some stress. (They hold hands)
Picture Perfect by TheSaltiestDog (26k) Clark's spent close to a decade as Bruce's friend, he's seen him at his worst, but he's never seen all of him. Funny how his whole perspective changes with one lucky photograph.
To Bring Light Back To Your Eyes by GoldfishForHire (8k)** Months after the Justice League is formed in the wake of Steppenwolf's attempted incursion, Superman begins pulling away, becoming isolated and withdrawn. Bruce wants to help, but doesn't know how. He goes to Martha Kent for advice, and an offhand comment leads to a clumsy, though successful, outreach. Or, Bruce bakes Clark terrible pie to make him feel better, and Clark finds this very endearing. THIS ONE MADE ME LAUGH OUT LOUD, THEN I MADE MY FRIEND READ IT AND SHE WAS GIGGLING. SO CUTE AND FLUFFY
Could I Have This Dance by Pandamomochan (3k) Why is Superman the one who always gets reeled into JLA publicty stunts? The princess of Jasenael requests that the hero be her dance partner at her coming of age ceremony. Only problem, Clark has never learned the art of formal dance. Luckily Bruce decides to be his willing instructor.
You're gonna know my name by Dino_Cattivo (22k)** Bruce just wanted to get the interview over with and relax, but sadly the universe had other plans, and he found himself stranded together with Clark Kent and has to wait to be rescued to keep his secret identity. Which would have been a lot easier if Kent hadn't investigated things Bruce would rather have kept hidden.
With Matches by Dino_Cattivo (35k)** Clark is investigating a story in Gotham, where he meets the criminal Matches Malone. Despite their differences, Clark finds himself drawn to the other man but things can go terribly wrong when mingling with the criminal underworld.
To be in your arms by KingDimeSmoothied (3k) Bruce has never seen Superman treat him like a civilian before. Curious at the prospect, Bruce goes to Metropolis and ends falling in love with someone else. Or so he thinks. Or 5 times Bruce finds Clark while looking for Superman and 1 time he actually finds him.
That's all for today folks! Also please ask if there's a certain theme or word count or anything you want me to rec, I'd be happy to help.
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julieverne · 4 months
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Jane was late, and the hour was already very late. Maura was a little nervous about being at a bar alone, but even as she fidgeted another woman approached her, taking in her outfit with the kind of admiration it truly deserved.
"What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" she asked coquettishly, and Maura chuckled.
"I could ask the same of you," Maura demurred. The other woman's outfit was stylish, classic and fashionable. She was tall and gorgeous, a soft smile and strong cheekbones. The dress for her perfectly; it was a Verger which Maura had regretfully decided not to purchase since she wasn't the right height to do it justice. It looked perfect on her. Maura looked her over with approval.
"Doctor Paula Rubenstein," the other woman introduced herself. Maura took the offered hand, realising she'd been looking too long, but Paula merely looked amused.
"Doctor Maura Isles," she countered, seeing the other woman's eyebrows raise.
"I thought you looked familiar."
"Have we met before?" Maura asked, worrying that she'd accidentally snubbed someone she'd already met.
"Trust me, I'd have remembered." Her voice was low and husky, but not as deep as Jane's. The hand that remained in hers was warm and friendly, and there was a pleasant thumb running over her knuckles. "No, I mean from the news. There was that serial killer." She shuddered. "You must be very brave to do that kind of work."
"She doesn't need to be brave, she has me," Jane snarled from somewhere over Maura's shoulders. Maura leaned back a little and felt the reassuring press of Jane's chest against her back, Jane's hand finding her waist and pulling Maura back into the safety of Jane's arms.
"Ah, Detective Rizzoli. Who could forget." Paula released Maura's hand and offered her own to Jane, who eyed it like she'd been offered a fish left in the sun for days.
"We've met?" Jane eyed the other woman warily, and Maura was confused by Jane's hostility to someone she didn't even know. Jane's gaze was focused on Paula's face, and the warmth of Jane against Maura's back almost made her forget to care how rude Jane was being.
"Briefly. You arrested one of my patients."
"One of your patients killed a bunch of people," Jane countered, and Maura was confused as well as dismayed. She'd been getting along so well with another woman, which was rare for her. Why was Jane acting like this?
"Perhaps I'll see you later," Paula said, directing that only to Maura, returning the rudeness Jane had offered. The event started and Jane sighed near Maura's ear.
Maura wanted to ask what was wrong, but the fundraiser had started so she just leaned against Jane, enjoying the solid warmth of her.
---
Jane ducked out to the washroom after the speeches were over and Paula came over, full of compliments and approving eyes over Maura's outfit. Maura had chosen to wear the Yalas she'd had for a while because Jane liked Maura in that shade of green, and she'd worn kitten heels in the same shade with a purse to match.
"Would you like to come home with me?" Paula asked with a smirk when Jane came back, and Maura smiled pleasantly at her.
"Oh! No, thank you. I have a perfectly good home of my own."
Having understood completely, Maura beamed at Paula until she finally walked away, looking eminently confused
"Maura, she was flirting with you," Jane groaned.
"Oh really? Oh. She wanted to take me home with her for sex? Sex with me? Of course. Do you think she's gone far?"
"She's gone too far," Jane snarled. When Maura peered at the doorway Jane growled and held her. "Besides, you're coming home with me."
"For sex?" Maura asked hopefully, enjoying the frustrated little whine Jane gave her.
"No, for - ugh, Maura. For... you know. A beer. Walk the dog. Dinner, since they're only handing out candy corn."
"It's for a good cause," Maura said with a straight face. "Okay, take me home with you, even though I have a perfectly good home of my own."
She saw Jane roll her eyes, but she also saw Jane blush, and she chuckled lowly to herself.
(Five times Maura didn't notice women flirting with her, and one time she did - stay tuned)
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kairiscorner · 1 year
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hi there!! :)) I saw that ur requests were open again and I wanted to ask if you could do a hc or short fic(?) for like a Hobie x Spiderperson! reader where they've got this vibe that they're dating???
Like whenever anyone asks about it they have no clue and reject the idea since Hobie doesn't believe in labels and the reader doesn't want to be tied down. But! they both get suuuper jealous whenever either of them gets too close/flirts with other people and drags them away or smth huehruehdids
Maybe they confess??? What if one time the jealousy gets too much or one of them got really hurt and the other realizes that they might never be able to tell the other their feelings? Maybe a big kiss at the end bc of the exploding feelings? That's all, thank you and have a great day!!! :DD
HI ANONNNN <33 omg i love so much WHAT i hope i do this justice <:))
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
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"so... are you two a, y'know, a thing?"
questions like these never fail to keep you quick on your toes, especially since nothing could be farther from the truth. you and hobie were just good friends, really good friends. just a couple of buds that always had each other's back when battles go awry, or when the other gets in trouble for a few stunts here and there. you two were just... very close, is what you would call it, neither of you really used labels to express what you two were to each other.
hobie hated labels anyway to begin with, never believed in them and certainly doesn't want to use them to describe his relationship with you. he never felt the need to, all he was certain of was that if you were there for him, he'd obviously be there for you–even if you never asked for him to be, it was always a given.
you yourself were a free-spirited type of person, you refused to be weighed down by commitment when you already had yourself to worry about. and besides... you didn't feel anything for hobie, did you? nah, you didn't, you just thought that he was really, really cool. and awesome. and inspiring. and rebellious for the right reasons. and so... just, just a lot of amazing things.
you two wanted to make it clear: there was nothing going on between you two. and even though you convinced some of the folks at the spider society, a lot of others were still highly skeptical of you two, not that you guys cared, you two knew each other well. or so you both thought.
though hobie was always your first pick for a partner on a mission, you were being paired up with a lot of different spider people recently. and though it was no problem for hobie, you worried about leaving him alone. "hey, now, don't get all sentimental on me. i never believed in consistency, anyway. you're amazing, of course everyone wants you on their team. i'll catch you on the flipside," he'd tell you something along those lines and just... be gone for the rest of the day.
you tried not to worry so much, but guilt ate away at you sometimes and distracted you. but soon, this routine became more and more commonplace for you two, to the point that it distracted you seldom times when you heard that hobie was okay, he wasn't avoiding you, he was just... off somewhere else, and that much was enough to put you at ease.
you hung around the new people you met more and more often, even when hobie was around. you never meant to replace him, you could never do that; you just had your own life, and hobie... hobie knew. he understood that not every day can be for you two to share together, but honestly, he wished he didn't have to share your attention with these other guys, despite how well they mean, he wanted just you and him together for one more day; one more day, just like how it all was before this new change in routine.
little did hobie know that wish would come true sooner than he thought; for as you two were sent on a mission together, with just you two together, hobie had to admit how much he missed you--how much he wanted for things to be the way they once were. "i know i said i never believed in consistency, labels, and... i don't. but when it comes to you, i just have these thoughts, these thoughts of seeing you smile because of me, feeling your hand in mine after a long fight, getting together to make mischief and getting each other out of it--i really missed that... i missed you."
and you thought you were crazy for hearing that right then and there, because you yourself felt that exact same way. "i... i really missed you, too, hobie." you'd admit, and that was all the admission hobie needed to hear. "if you'll let me, may i... show you just how much i've missed you?" he ask as he brings his hand to your cheek and gazes into your eyes as you become more and more embarrassed about your feelings for him, but so was he when he realized you were, and are, all he ever loved.
you agreed, and in the blink of an eye, his lips were on yours. you felt his piercings, they were cold amidst both of your lips touching each other, but you two fit so well together; you two were each other's missing link, the only one who can right each other's wrongs and make them feel much more... alive.
though you two still refused to give other people any labels when asked about you two--because how was it their business, right?--you two knew just the other meant to you: it was ride or die with you, and only you; nobody else could replace or be the other, you're all he'll ever want, and he's all you could ever hope to love.
a/n: I HOPE THIS WAS GOOD AAAAAAAA, I REALLY LOVED WRITING THIS THOUGH <333
tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @ii01vq @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @fictarian @pixqlsin
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gatorbites-imagines · 2 years
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Snice Conner/ Kon-el is half Kryptoniton, would some of your Hcs still count?
Like Conner would be affected by sent too?
If that's so, can we get a Conner x Reader (He/Him) ?
I think it would be great if Conner had a crush on the reader, he might try to steal some of reader's sweaters/ hoodies without thinking. So to poke back the reader steals one of Conner's favorite shirts, the reader having a mischievous smile when he sees how flustered Conner is, to have the Reader smelling like him.
You can keep this fluff, or make it a little NSFT, I'll let you decide!
Conner Kent x male reader
Headcanons
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(Ive run out of young justice conner gifs, so have this titans one instead)
Always hype to write about my kryptonian headcanons
-          Conner wouldn’t realize what he was doing in the beginning, stealing your stuff like he did. It would just be a deep urge of his, to smell like you or have your scent close to him.
-          So little by little as you two hang out, he would just bring some of your hoodies or sweaters back to his room, resorting to even wearing them every now and then.
-          You would most likely realize before Conner himself, seeing as he isn’t as subtle as he thinks he is when he borrows some of your stuff, especially when he doesn’t give it pack and it just ends up on a big pile on his bed.
-          So, when you start stealing shirts and hoodies back, that primal part of Conners brain immediately is awake, hyper focused on you. He especially gets antsy when you walk around wearing his clothes, smelling like him.
-          He starts chuffing and purring at a frequency only other kryptonians can hear, that feral part of his mind so pleased that you are wearing his scent and smelling like him. It makes him want to pull you into his arms and never let go.
 -          You two keep up this game for a while, swapping clothes back and forth without ever actually saying anything. And it only makes that part of Conners brain go a little extra wild. Especially when he one day catches you going around in one of his t-shirts and just a pair of boxers.
-          At some point he realizes you gotta be doing this on purpose, as you smirk and snicker at his flustered reactions. It makes him growl at the frequency normal people cant hear, feeling something in his chest about being teased that way.
-          It makes him want to mark his territory, but he feels embarrassed about wanting to smother you even more in his scent and even mark you as his. So, you’ll most likely have to take the step in that direction.
-          But when you get the ball rolling there’s no end to it, expect so many hugs and so much scenting, expect him to suck hickeys all over your body and lick you all over, especially in areas that gather a lot of your smell.
-          You’ll also have to learn to live with just how excited smelling your scent or musk can be for him, though it probably comes as a surprise to the both of you the first time he has an orgasm just huffing your armpit.
 -          After that time you both start experimenting a bit more, seeing if its just your scent or something else. This resorts to Conner wearing even more of your clothes, and at this point your wardrobes have just been completely mixed.
-          No one is surprised to see you two wear the others clothes, and no one is surprised to see Conner rubbing his face all over your neck, or to see hickeys and bitemarks all over your torso in the locker room.
-          Be prepared for the kryptonian libido, there is no mercy when you really get Conner going. You will be seeing God and wrung dry like an empty Juicebox, and he still wont be satiated.
-          That’s when its good to have some of your workout clothes or shirts you’ve worn all day laying around, as it helps Conner get off on his own as you catch a break so you can feel your legs again. It isn’t half bad watching him ride his toys with your shirt against this nose either, it really does something to your ego.
-          Afterwards you always cuddle, and Conner purrs even louder even though you cant hear it. He’s told you about it at some point, so you can feel its there in spirit. He’s like a space heater when you cuddle, so you never have to worry about being cold. It’s a nightmare during the summer though.
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