#they are also domestic as hell before shit hits the fan | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

karahalloway · 1 year

Text

Sleepless in New York: Chapter 10 - Darkfall

Series: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Synopsis: What if Drake met Harper on the first night of Prince Christian’s New York bachelor party? A stand-alone AU written from Drake's POV.

Masterlist: Sleepless in New York

Chapter Summary: Drake tries to navigate a rough night...

Word Count: 5,300

Rating/Warnings: E (swearing, angst, obsessive-compulsive exercise, sexual fantasy, masturbation)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: Sorry this took soooo long to get out! As per usual, real life has been exceptionally busy, so I haven't had as much time to write as I'd like to.

A/N2: This is also my slightly belated submission for World Whiskey Day, hosted by @drake-walker-appreciation, and the prompt that this fits with (more or less) is 'The whiskey burns my throat like her absence burns my soul.'

A/N3: I just realised that this kinda (maybe?) qualifies for the @springfeverpitch event that was on this week (Apologies! There are a lot of events on at the moment!) In any case, this would count as domestic x home run I guess 😅

Chapter 10 - Darkfall

I kick the covers off with an irate growl.

Un-fuckin'-believable...

After the shitshow of a day I've had, I should be running on fumes.

And I am.

Yet for some reason, I’m not able to nod off. Despite the fact that I've been on the go since 6am and have barely gotten any shut-eye the night before.

Because my body’s apparently a sucker for punishment and doesn’t seem to know when to quit. And even though I know I desperately need the recharge, I also know that staying in bed’s gonna achieve nothing 'cept hypertension.

So, swinging my legs out onto the carpet with a tight-set jaw, I reach for my phone.

02:18

I run a heavy hand through my hair.

The hell am I gonna do for the next six hours?

My eyes land almost unwittingly on the ragged shirt-tail peeking over the edge of the trash can.

I rip my gaze away with gritted teeth.

No. Absolutely fucking not.

It’a bad enough that I walked out on Gale without so much as a half-assed explanation. I ain’t gonna compound my dick-like behaviour by showing up at her door in the middle of the night, demanding to pick up where we left off.

Especially not after everything I've already subjected her to today — getting her fired, burning her in front of her friends, pulling her into a fight, dragging her on a forced route march 'cross town, and then literally ripping the shirt off her back. And, if that isn’t bad enough, I topped off her night by dumping the proverbial clutch on her when I should've been taking her for the ride of her life.

I swallow painfully. No. That ship had definitely sailed...

Which means it’s high time to take my own fuckin' advice and get her — and this entire mess of a day — out of my head.

No excuses.

And since the overpriced mini bar had let me down, I’m down to my only alternative — running myself into the ground.

Pushing myself up with a resigned exhale, I trudge over to my duffle. Reaching in, I extract the exercise shorts and t-shirt that always forms part of my go-bag, no matter where I went. Because you never know when you’re gonna need to blow off some steam. And going for a run’s a damn sight healthier than disappearing down the neck of a bottle. Even if the latter’s a helluva lot more convenient.

Throwing the clothes on, along with some socks and my well-worn trainers, I turn back to the bedside table to grab my phone and gun...

...and catch sight of the shirt again.

Motherfucker.

Jamming the phone and the Sig into my pockets — it always pays be prepared then be left holding your dick when shit inevitably hits the fan — I march over to the bin and yank the accursed thing out.

Scrunching it up, I turn on my heel, and stomp out of the room, snatching the keycard up on the way. Wrenching the door open, I let it bang shut behind me as I head down the corridor.

I cannot catch one goddamn break tonight...

Reaching the lifts, I briefly contemplate calling one. But given that I’m already wound tighter than a two-dollar watch, I know I won’t be able to stand the wait, no matter how brief.

So, I divert instead to the fire exit. Pulling the heavy door open, I throw myself into a jog and take the stairs upwards two at a time.

I guess I could've just as easily gone downstairs. But I don’t trust myself not to wind up at Gale's brownstone again if I hit the streets. Which means that the only place I can conceivably go is to the top-floor gym.

Which — all things considered — is probably the better bet anyway. Because going for a jog in the dead of night around the City That Never Sleeps is a risk not worth taking. And even though Central Park’s less than a block away, it’s not actually an option, given that (a) it’s shut overnight, and (b) it isn’t the best lit, and I don’t particularly feel like getting jumped by a knife wielding yahoo, or twisting an ankle on an uneven path.

Plus, I'd have to be a monumental idiot to even think about leaving Chris unattended again. Not that I expect to him go anywhere at this hour — except maybe all the way with Hayley. But I’m not about to make the same mistake twice in one day.

Christ knows I paid for it hard the first time 'round...

I feel my legs start to burn as I continue to climb relentlessly. But knowing that this is exactly what I need if I’m to have any hope of catching some zzz's tonight, I ignore the discomfort and push myself on.

Arriving on the 25th floor, I pause on the landing to catch my breath. But the short burst of exercise has merely thrown me a second wind. I still have a long way to go if I want to waste myself completely.

So, moving over to the stairwell door, I pull it open and step into the gym. Given the lateness of the hour, there's not a soul in sight, and it's just me and the view.

But there’s one thing I need to take care of first.

Locating the changing rooms, I head inside. And before I can think too much on it, or change my mind, I stride over to the dirty towel hamper and chuck the ruined shirt in...

...and dump a few towels on top of it for good measure.

Dead and buried.

Spinning quickly around, I exit the way I'd come, focusing my attention on the row of TechnoGym treadmills that face out onto the distantly twinkling lights of Harlem in the north, and not on how twisted my guts feel all of a sudden.

Picking a machine, I pull my phone and sidearm out of my pockets and place them onto the console so they won’t bang against my thighs as I ran, but still remained within reach in case I need them.

Taking a deep breath, I step resolutely onto the belt and hit go on a program at random.

The pace starts off sedately, barely faster than a speed walk. Reaching up to the console, I tap the speed up impatiently, not wanting to waste time on a warm-up I don’t need and most definitely don’t want.

I’n here to burn rubber.

The motor kicks into a higher gear, but it's not enough. Even though I’m now at a steady jog, my heart rate's barely above resting and I've yet to break a sweat. Not to mention the fact that my mind’s still fixating on the very thing I need to flush out of my system.

Gale, legs spread and head thrown back, moaning my name...

Raising my hand with a growl, I slap the panel again... and again... and again... until the belt is a blur beneath my feet and I'm pelting it like a demented bat outta hell.

The sudden speed forces my body into overdrive. My chest expands, my focus narrows, and my blood begins to pump in earnest, trying to supply my body with oxygen faster than it was being consumed.

I fall into a breakneck rhythm, limbs pumping to the rapid beat of my breath in a desperate effort to stay on the treadmill.

In... In... In... In... Out... Out... Out... Out...

The minutes and the miles tick past on the screen in front of me, but I barely register the stats. I'm too busy chasing oblivion...

...which remains stubbornly out of reach.

Because even as I push myself to the limit and my lungs start to burn and my muscles start to cramp, I can't escape her. She's still there, hazel-green eyes dancing on the edge of my awareness, the honey scent of her hair tickling my senses like smoke on the breeze.

And even as my vision begins to swim and the relentless pace pushes me to the verge of puking, I don't let myself ease up. Because that would be an admission of defeat and I’m not the type to quite that easy.

Not when there’s so much on the line.

Because beyond the fact that I let myself become consumed by a girl I barely know — an unhealthy and unsustainable hang-up that I need to nip in the bud, pronto — my continued preoccupation also ended up endangering Chris' life tonight.

And that’s inexcusable.

Not only is the guy the heir to a fuckin' throne, but he is my best — and arguably only — friend. And I let him down, both personally and professionally, by allowing myself to get distracted, just because a pretty set of legs had walked by.

And while I somehow managed to salvaged my colossal fuck-up, and we all walked away tonight without any casualties, I probably won’t m be able to pull a miracle like that out of my ass every time.

Nor should I expect to.

Especially not during the social season, when Chris is going to be constantly in the spotlight, shaking hands, being interviewed, always in an exposed setting. All it would take is one moment of distraction, one second of lost focus, for someone to pull a gun, to slip through the crowd, for our worlds to come crashing down.

And I’m not gonna let Chris — my brother — down like that.

I can’t.

So, doubling down, I dig deep and continue to pound the vestiges of my frustrations, my failings, and my regret relentlessly into the treadmill, the hard and fast staccato of my feet against the machine echoing around the otherwise empty space.

I have no clue how long I run for. Minutes? Hours? It makes no difference. Every wheeze feels like my last, every exertion a desperate attempt to break free of the purgatory of mistakes I trapped myself in.

And still I push on. Until I hit the proverbial wall and collapse against it, my vision blurry, my limbs shaking, my clothes drenched.

I stand there for what feels like eternity, feet straddling either side of the machine, the belt still whizzing at breakneck speed beneath me while I cling to the console like a life-line, trying to catch my breath.

And eventually my heart-rate slows, the buzzing in my ears clears, and I regain enough coherence to lift a hand and slap the treadmill off.

Pushing myself up to a standing position as the machine whirls to a stop, I wipe the sweat from my eyes and glance at the screen in front of me.

10 miles. 56 minutes.

I scoff wryly. Well, fuck me if that ain’t a new personal best... Who knew that self-pity could be such a potent motivator...?

Exiting the menus, I grab my stuff and move to step off the machine... only to very narrowly avoid face planting into the floor.

Oh, shit...!

Grabbing the console, I shake my head to try and clear the sudden nausea.

Christ, I feel awful...

My eyes land on the water fountain and I lurch towards it like a drunk out of a bar. Because that’s exactly how I feel like — sluggish, light-headed and stumbling around like a newborn calf. Which is no surprise considering I've just run the best part of half a marathon as if the Devil himself had been after me, having consuming nothing but two bottles of beer beforehand.

Apparently I do hate myself.

Managing to make it to the far wall without any incident — just — I lean over the dispenser to inhale the cool stream of water, nearly making myself choke in the process.

But I know I need to rehydrate myself, otherwise I’m gonna be in a world of pain in a few hours' time. So, after overcoming the initial shock to my system, I force myself to loosen up on the pace and start taking longer and slower gulps.

Having finally satisfied my body's cravings, I let go of the dispenser button to run the back of a trembling hand over my water-soaked mouth.

Sweet Jesus, I’m a mess...

I can’t remember the last time I pushed myself this hard on a workout.

But then I've never felt this way before... Like I’m an idiot, like I missed the pass, like I’m stuck in a maze with no way out.

And even though the hard run had managed to clear my mind, that latent feeling of... something is still there, writhing just beneath the surface, like an unscratchable itch under my skin.

And maybe it'll never go fully away. But I’m not about to give up without putting in a damn good fight.

Pushing myself up, I turn towards the pool. And even though I haven’t brought any swim trunks with me, my feet are already pulling me towards the siren call of the water.

Because if there’s one thing that’a guaranteed to set me right, it’s a full-body dunk.

Arriving at the side of the pool, I peel my sweat-soaked clothes off, leaving only my boxers on for the sake of modesty in case someone happens to walk in.

Taking a breath, I step out over the edge and plunge straight in.

The sting of salt hits my nose — not the same flavour as the Med, but then no pool’s ever gonna compete with that — as the water envelopes me and I let myself sink below the surface.

I hit the bottom and the echoey silence settles like a blanket around me, soothing my senses, taming my pulse.

I've always loved the water. Even before I could walk, I'd make a butt-shuffling beeline towards the end of the beach where the waves crashed onto the shore, unveiling a treasure trove of crabs, seashells and shiny rocks.

Of course, Mom'd been terrified that I'd get swept out to sea, or drown. So, to appease her fear, Dad had started taking me to swim lessons — first at the local therapy pool, but graduating quickly to the higher classes in the lap pool as I learnt to float, hold my breath, and leap off the diving board, all by the age of three.

From there my obsession only grew. I joined the school swim team, the water polo team, and even got certified as a lifeguard over the course of one summer. In short, I spent almost as much time in the water as out of it.

And then Chris introduced me to sailing.

At first I couldn't see the appeal of drifting around the Med on a sofa-sized boat when you could be swimming in it. But I've never been able to say 'no' to my best friend, so when he insisted I join him for a spin around the marina in his new Wayfarer one evening, I'd begrudgingly said yes. And had become instantly hooked. The speed, the technical precision, the feeling of flying over the water — it was all addictive.

Jack Sparrow'd had it right when he'd said that a ship is not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails. Because even though those things are integral to the make-up of any craft, what a ship — or yacht, or catamaran, or any other vessel — really is, is freedom.

And for a restless 14 year-old, there was nothing more attractive than ditching the world to hang out with your buddy in the middle of the ocean, free of worries or adult supervision, just enjoying the endless view while you fished and talked about nothing in particular.

Of course, being teenagers, we were bound to get ourselves into deep water — quite literally. Which is how we ended up deciding that it'd be a great idea to take out a much larger sloop one evening... only to end up paying for that mistake when a storm decided to roll in out of the blue, catching us off guard and capsizing our craft.

And while that particular misadventure had ended up turning Chris off sailing once and for all, it had made me even more determined to get back out onto the water and obtain my ICC license. Which I did, the following summer.

And even though I no longer have Chris to share my maritime adventures with, my love of sailing — and of being out on the water — never diminished.

Because the sea is — and always has been — my personal haven.

Feeling my lungs start to itch from the lack of oxygen, I reluctantly open my eyes and kick back up to the surface.

But I don't feel like returning to dry land just yet.

So, drawing a quick breath, I stretch myself out and dip into an easy freestyle. Half-a-dozen strokes and I reach the edge of the pool. Diving down, I flip myself around to kick off the wall, resurfacing into a backstroke.

I repeat the pattern for about ten laps, enjoying the rare sense of peace that comes with gliding weightlessly through the water, strokes moving effortlessly in time with my breath.

Eventually, though, I’m forced to call it quits as my body finally runs out of steam and my rhythm starts to falter.

Grabbing onto the edge of the pool, I pause to catch my breath, arms and shoulders tingling from the exertion...

...and I suddenly realise that I'm starving.

Which, all things considered, is hardly surprising. The last time I had anything to eat was at that Midtown stake-house at dinner-time, which was over eight hours ago. And since then I've probably burnt through 800 calories' worth of pure stress, not to mention all the physical exertion I've put myself through. So, my blood sugar levels are shot.

Pulling myself out of the water, I pad over to the other side of the pool to collect my gear.

I briefly contemplate having a shower, but quickly ditch the idea on the basis that (a) I hadn't brought a change of clothes with me, and (b) I can’t trust myself not to go rooting for the ruined shirt that I ditched in the changing rooms earlier.

So, brushing off the worst of the water, I head straight for the lifts.

I’m not expecting to cross paths with anyone at whatever time in the morning it is. And if I do... well, they can suck it up. It's not like I’m walkin' around buck-ass naked.

Arriving back on our booked-out floor, I make my way to my room. Fishing the keycard out of the pocket of my shorts, I let myself in and flick the door closed behind me.

Dropping my exercise kit by my duffle, I locate the 24-hour room service menu and do a quick scan of the options.

A couple of items jump out at me, but knowing that I'll probably have breakfast with the guys in a few hours' time, I don’t want to have anything too heavy.

But then my eyes land on the cheeseburger, and before I can think twice about it, I've reached for the hotel phone and I'm putting the order through.

And even though I tell myself that it's because I never got to finish the one back at the dive bar two nights ago, I know that I'm lying to myself...

...so, I add a bottle of whiskey to the order for good measure.

Because I don’t want to blow up all my hard work by falling back into the same emotional sink hole that I only very narrowly managed to drag myself out of just now. So, I need something to distract myself.

Hanging up, I quickly sort my sweaty clothes out and stow them in the duffle before making my way into the bathroom to have another shower.

Once done, I throw on my jeans and a t-shirt (not bothering with socks or underwear) and flick the wall-mounted TV on to find something to pass the time with while I wait for the food to show up.

Not seeing any movies or series that particularly interest me, I eventually settle on a rerun of an old Pats game...

...but I find my mind wandering.

And it doesn't take long for my treacherous sub-conscious to dig up the very images that have been stalking me all night.

Gale, up in my face out on the club balcony, testing my limits and my sanity with that sassy smile of hers...

Gale, head thrown back and ass pressed up against me as we move to the techno-beat on the crowded dance-floor...

Gale, legs wrapped around me as her nails rake over my skin, fighting to get my shirt off as my tongue invades her mouth...

I groan despite myself, shifting uncontrollably on top of the covers...

...and realise that I've already lost the battle.

Shit.

My eyes land ruefully on the tell-tale tent pole straining the front of my pants.

I huff out a tight exhale.

If there'd been one thing I wanted to avoid tonight, it’s this...

Because I know that as soon as I dip a toe in that particular Rubicon, I’m screwed. And not in a good way.

Because when you've been continuously pushed to the edge, only to be yanked back each and every time from the precipice of release, a plain ol' wank just isn’t gonna do it.

Sure, jacking one out relieved the immediacy of the pent up need. But it’s never gonna hold a candle to the real thing. In part because it’s over in minutes and in part because cumming into your own hand feels about as satisfying as throwing yourself a one-man pity party.

Because sex is a team sport. And trying to run a solo play — when you know what the real thing feels like — is always gonna fall short of expectations. Because when you’re on your own, there’s no one to share the thrill with. To kiss, to tease, to fuck to the limit before letting go so you can finally implode into each other.

Which is why I'd tried my damnedest to exhaust myself so I wouldn't find myself in this situation. At least not until we were back in Cordonia, and I could avail myself of some options...

...'cept now I don’t have a choice.

Not unless I want to greet the bell hop with a raging hard-on...

Because unfortunately for me, my dick has apparently decided that it'd had enough of being baited, and is now gonna bend me over the barrel to get what it wants.

Regardless of the fact that it’s gonna be a massive let-down for both of us.

So, even as I try to shift my focus back to the Pats game — and sideline my ever-growing erection — all I manage to achieve is an even more persistent itch in my pants.

Because despite my resistance, we both know that thanks to the missed opportunity with Gale, chances are good that I’m not gonna find anything resembling decent satisfaction until after the Masquerade Ball.

As even though we'll be arriving back to a Palace teeming with all manner of women — from maids to staff to nobles — that doesn’t mean I’m gonna be casting a net. In fact, just the opposite. I’m not the type to shit where I eat (it causes too much unnecessary mess) and I learnt my lesson about fucking aristos the hard way.

Which means that unless I’m planning to shell out for a call girl — hell'd have to freeze over first — a self-administered hand-job is gonna have to tide me over until there’s a big enough gap in my schedule that I can get away from the Palace for a couple of hours and find some stress relief.

I heave a low breath. Fuck my fuckin' life...

But knowing that I've backed myself into a corner, I reach resignedly for my belt. Unhooking the buckle, I fling it to the side to expose the top button of my jeans. Snapping the fastening open with one hand, I yank the zip down with the other.

The denim falls away and my dick springs free of its confines, its rigid length snapping to attention like an overeager hound that has just caught a scent.

And even though this particular outing isn’t gonna end in the long, hard run we both know we need, that doesn't stop the damn thing from drooling like a mutt in anticipation.

Setting my jaw, I shove my jeans down over my hips, half-heartedly wishing I had some lube or something to try and improve this runaway train-wreck as I reach south...

...and groan out loud as my hand wraps around the warm shaft.

Goddamn...

I’m apparently more deprived than I realised. Though, I guess that shouldn't come as a massive surprise. Especially after the near constant edging that Gale subjected me to tonight, combined with the fact that it's been a good two weeks since the last time I managed to eke out time for a fuck. And that had been mediocre at best.

As if to emphasise the point, my dick bucks against palm, and it's clear that I have a lot of mitigating to do.

Sliding my fist firmly down, then back up again, I set about stoking up a rhythm. And even though it's nothing different to what I've done hundreds of times before, something about the familiar friction sparks an instant fire in my veins.

Maybe it's 'cause I’m exhausted... Maybe it's 'cause my mind’s a mess... Maybe it's 'cause I've gone cold turkey for too long...

But whatever it is, it’s sending me into a tailspin.

I feel my head tip back against the headboard with a low moan as I'm pulled rapidly under by the throes of my self-gratification.

And as my eyes shudder closed in the face of the rising tension, I give myself up to the darkest depths of my desire...

...and in a blink of an eye, I’m back in that cramped apartment, gazing up at Gale from between her legs, the imminence of her climax written on her face, the slickness of her arousal coating my mouth and tongue.

I groan into her as she grips my hair, urging me on with her increasingly desperate pleas, her body quivering above me as she careers towards the edge...

...and I’m suddenly possessed by an all-consuming urge to have her.

Shooting to my feet, with her legs still wrapped around my shoulders, I send her sprawling back over the top of the kitchen counter.

Because I know that we don’t have much time, and if I’m gonna make this happen, we need to do it hard and fast.

And I’m not gonna let myself disappoint her again.

Grabbing her by the waist, I yank her towards me. Her hazel-green eyes widen in shock as her ass dips over the edge of the counter. But my grip on her is unshakeable and she's not going anywhere.

Not yet anyway.

Not until I've fucked her six ways 'til Sunday, and even then I probably won’t let her leave.

Because this girl sets me on fire like nobody else, and I need her to burn with me.

Bending down to give her decadent folds one more self-indulgent lick, I steady her with one hand while I rip my belt and jeans open with the other, not able to take my eyes off her as she writhed before me.

"Drake...!"

The sound of my name slipping off her lips like a fervent prayer unleashes something feral inside of me. Something I didn't even know existed in the dark recesses of my soul. Something that instantly swallows whatever vestiges of rational thought I have left, leaving only one, single-minded purpose:

To make her mine.

And in some corner of my brain I know I should be terrified. Of this rabid hunger that she's unwittingly awakened within me. Of the fact that I can’t control it... and don’t want to.

But I'm already past the point of no return. And I can’t give a rat's ass.

Because the only thing I care about is fulfilling that unspoken obsecration of hers until she’s ruined for all other men.

Shoving my jeans and boxers down with a growl, I grab her hips and ram myself into her in one, brutal motion.

Her wet heat engulfs me, taking me fully, causing my eyes to roll back into my head as I revel in the sheer euphoria of her, her deep-throated cry of agreement rising up around me.

Christ, she feels amazing!

And if the mere act of being inside her doesn’t already feel like pure rapture, she then decides to up the ante even further.

"Fuck me, Drake," she demands, arching her lower back forward.

A guttural sound rattles my throat as she rolls her hips against me, cranking up the torsion as she pulls me in even deeper.

And I could've lost it then and there.

But somehow — whether through sheer force of will, or by the grace of God — I manage to tamp down the rapidly rising swell in order to heed her command.

Because this isn’t about me. This is about her. And I’m gonna make damn sure that she gets what she wants before I let myself cum inside her.

Even if it kills me.

Opening my eyes, I meet her hazel-green gaze with an affirmative smirk. "Yes, ma'am."

She wraps her legs around me expectantly...

...and I slam us together roughly, loudly, unapologetically.

She gasps beneath me, hands flying to the edge of the counter to grip it like an anchor in a storm, her entire body reverberating with the impact of our collisions.

But I don't stop. I can't. I pound into her like a man possessed... because I am. All semblance of logic, of reason, of God-given sense has evaporated and I devolve into the basest version of myself, one that is driven purely by lust and instinct.

And even though I know I won't be able to hold out, that I'll cave in the face of her rhapsodic screams and the almost painful pressure she’s putting on my dick, I'm powerless to pull the e-brake. If anything, it makes me rev the throttle even harder.

Because she just feels too damn good, and I've been at her mercy from the start.

Lifting my head, I lock eyes with her. And in those lust-blown, hazel-green depths, I see more than just need... more than just passion.

I see complete faith.

And it undoes me.

I explode into her with a ragged, animalistic cry, my body jerking with the force of my deliverance.

"Holy... fuck!"

The long-coveted wave of release crashes over me, wiping away my thoughts and my vision, and I'd be convinced that I passed out were it not for the high-pitched ringing in my ears and the thundering of my heart.

A few more pumps, a shuddered breath as the last swell rises, and I’m left drained, floating.

I stay there, motionless, revelling in that all-too brief moment of calm before the chaos of the world spins back up around me.

Sweet Jesus, that w—

Her warm lips brush against my sweat-streaked forehead, her honey-camomile scent drifting over me like a drunken haze...

I move to lean into her. "Harp—"

...but she's already gone.

The story continues in Chapter 11 - Cold Light of Day

Permatags

@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14 @kingliam2019 @petiteboheme @angelasscribbles @aussiegurl1234 @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tessa-liam @alyshak92 @secretaryunpaid @princessleac1 @walkerdrakewalker @tinkie1973 @twinkle-320 @knaussal @nikkis1983 @lunaseasblog @ficloverevie @indiana-jr @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kristinamae093 @eversoaringqueen12 @peonierose @3pawandme @alexabeta @veebug8 @fangirling12566 @queenmiarys @lancelotsimp @coco-lina-s @lolablackwrites @ivyflowers13 @persephone13 @hollygirl1269 @adri-ja-96 @harleybeaumont @katedrakeohd @uneravine @choicesficwriterscreations

Sleepless in New York only

@bebepac

Picture Credits

Insomnia - Dawn - New York - Run - Swim - Drake - Pool

#drake walker #sleepless in new york #world whiskey day #drake walker appreciation #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #drake x mc #harper gale #the royal romance #trr au fanfic

51 notes · View notes

bookaddict24-7 · 9 months

Text

Reviews of the Week!

Every week I will post a various reviews I've written so far in 2024. You can check out my Goodreads for more up-to-date reviews here.

___

The Inheritance by Nora Roberts: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Ever since Nora Roberts surprised me years ago with one of her fantasy novels, I've become more and more intrigued with her novels. INHERITANCE was so much fun and so addicting that I'm not convinced and I must read more of her books.

INHERITANCE starts with an MC who finds herself is a heartbreaking situation but is oddly not heartbroken? I loved her. She was a badass who grew a lot as a character and who brought so much fun to her story with her dialogue and observations. But along with her being a great MC, we also have the side characters, especially her bestie, who gave this novel that extra slice of fun.

Even though this is about a haunted house and it had some spooky moments, this was whimsical, at times romantic, and full of an engrossing mystery that I definitely want to one day solve. I loved the atmosphere of the setting and it fully felt like one of those "what if" scenarios that someone might dream up if they were to inherit a haunted mansion.

Also, there are some pretty cute dogs in here. AND an MC that no matter what life throws at her, she KNOWS she's great at her job and it's shown throughout the book.

I just had a lot of fun with this one and I'm definitely going to strive to read more Roberts this year!

___

2. The September House by Carissa Orlando: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

What are the chances that the first two books I read in January 2024 are about haunted houses?

I didn't know what to expect of THE SEPTEMBER HOUSE. Much like usual, I didn't read the synopsis before jumping into this one. I'm happy I didn't because it all hit me like a one, two punch of surprises after another.

First of all, one of the comical things that endeared me to this highly unreliable narrator was her blasé way of referencing the ghosts in her home. "Oh, there's one who pops up in the closet sometimes" "Oh, there's one that bites". It was a surprising touch of humour in a book that proceeds to share the traumatizing past of the MC. While we learn about her abusive relationship with her husband, the fraught relationship with her daughter, and the potential decline of her mental health, we get reminders (often bloody and spine tingling) of just how haunted her home is.

The MC also has a set of rules that she follows in her fight to survive all that life has thrown at her, so I found it oddly fitting that this domestic abuse survivor is the one faced with the haunted and highly dangerous house.

While I actually really enjoyed this book and the dark humour, and the blatant horror-aspects of the book, I did find it a little harder to come to terms with the MC's daughter and her behaviour. I will admit that she annoyed the hell out of me. This grown-ass woman throws tantrums and I just wanted to shake her a bit. BUT with that being said, as the story progresses and truths are revealed, I could see the potential reasoning behind her actions. But also, we are seeing her actions through the perspective of an MC who is a bit unreliable when she's telling us about the people in her life. By the end of the book, I think I had a better understanding of her as a character. Both women were victims of a man who is given a quasi-redemption that well, I won't spoil it.

If you like haunted houses with very angry and bloody spirits, an MC who takes it all in stride, and a twisted history of experiences that help make it all make sense, then this might be the horror book for you!

___

3. Rejected by Jaymin Eve: ⭐️⭐️

The frustration I felt while reading this book. Major side eye, tbh.

REJECTED started out so interesting--I love these kinds of bully stories because I just know the MC is going to prove them all wrong. I was incredibly invested and I was fully engaged, and then...shit hit the fan and it all just...slowed...down. The story went from intriguing, to drawn out and kind of boring. I haven't fallen asleep with a book this much in a long time. Every time I picked it up, I felt my eyes drooping. And listen, it's not to say the story didn't have it's great moments, but it just felt never ending.

I did like the tension between the MC and the Shadow Beast, but that cover is a total catfish. Also, the MC was this badass woman who constantly touted the whole "us women have to stick up for ourselves" (which I agree with), but then she'd immediately forgive or forget something the Shadow Beast or some other man in her life did to her. Or, there's a point where she's like "this person hurt me so much and my past is so dark because of them but my heart was moved and blah blah blah." Yes, I get that it's complicated because of her wolf, but it was ridiculous. I actually groaned in frustration at that scene. Why can't we just have a character who holds on to her anger and grudge without being "moved" by the actions of a horrible character? That's not empathy, that's idiocy tbh, and self-sabotage.

I won't lie, I've started book two because I'm curious about certain things, but I'm again just feeling that dragging that this book caused. It's like a shapeshifting book meant to edge the reader into painful submission. And I get that this works for many readers, but damn. The constant back and forth and the repeated tedious tasks just...

Anyway, strong af start, disappointing middle, vaguely intriguing ending because now I want answers. I'm scared of how the second book will go LOL.

___

4. All Together Dead by Charlaine Harris: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I really enjoyed this SOOKIE STACKHOUSE book! I was immediately pulled in. This is also the first one in the series that isn't a re-read for me--which I feel is a huge feat.

A lot of references in this one were such a throwback (like the comment on Britney and Kevin. I think I actually laughed with that one.) And we get to see how the fictional and paranormal world dealt with the horrific aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Seeing how their lives were affected by this very real and devastating hurricane was eye opening and brought back to mind a younger me watching the news about the events happening in New Orleans.

I also enjoyed that we get to see Sookie grow a bit more in this one. I think, so far, this is the one book where she's starting to truly use her voice and set her boundaries. She's always been outspoken, but I found it moreso in this one--especially when it came to her comfort level. We also got to see the development of, of course, the complimented love life of our MC.

There were some outdated commentary (of course) to "sluts" and "whores". It's incredible to see how far we've come in fiction and writing that this felt like jarring descriptions of women.

I'm proud of myself for continuing this series. I'm enjoying it so far, imperfections set aside. I'm excited to get to the next one, especially since it's all fresh and new from here on out!

___

5. Hazel Bly and the Deep Blue Sea by Ashley Herring Blake: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I have many thoughts about this book. I've read nearly all of Ashley Herring Blake's works and I am a massive fan--especially of her middle grade books because of how accessible and relatable these books might be for younger readers trying to find themselves in fiction. While I enjoyed HAZEL BLY and have many thoughts, it's not my favourite book of Blake's.

Before I jump into the review, I want to talk about something I read in some of the older reviews on Goodreads that made me hella uncomfortable. There are some reviewers that really had an issue with the non-binary character in this book and how Blake tells her readers about what it might mean to be NB. I've been thinking about those transphobic comments throughout my time reading this book and getting angrier and angrier. Someone even took a star off for Blake being "too woke" and trying to do a check list of some sort--Ya'll know these books are queer right? Like, Queer with a capital Q. How dare kids who might identify as non-binary potentially see themselves in fictional stories? I'm not going to swear because a kid might read this review, but honestly, some of these reviews were disgusting. This is a child and this book is QUEER.

Moving on.

We know the representation in Blake's novels are always going to be top-notch. These are usually my go-to books when I get a baby LGBTQ+ visiting the bookstore and looking for books that feature non-hetero characters. I loved that this exploration of one's identity is so pure in this and not made into some sort of show or shock and awe plot device. It just is.

My biggest gripe with this book is how the mother treats the MC. I know they are both grieving, but it was heartbreaking watching this kid be in so much pain and in need of the comfort of touch and communication. I actually hunted down reviews to see if I was the only one noticing this (hence why I came across those transphobic reviews) and one person made a comment about being sick of emotionally abusive parents in MG and honestly, yes. It's always been one of my biggest pet peeves with middle grade--how awful parents can be, how apathetic they sometimes are, and how dismissive they are of their child's emotions in comparison to their own feelings/beliefs. They can come off as bullies just because "I'm the parent and you're not".

I'm a person who lost a parent at twelve (like the MC) and I had a mother who helped me grieve while she also grieved. It's doable. Hell, we even see it in how another mother grieves with her own daughter. But while it was infuriating, it was also kind of genius in how Blake was able to show the reader these two comparable situations and the different end-results in having an open communication-led grieving process and one where the surviving parent completely shuts down. It was an interesting and complex exploration of grief and how different it truly looks.

Did I cry a few times? Absolutely. Did I feel the joys of childhood watching the MC slowly open up and potentially even find first love? Of course. There's so much innocence in spending your summers hunting for an elusive mermaid and sharing those secret smiles with your potential crush. It's things like that that make a pre-teen childhood so memorable (or cringey, depending on who you ask.) And for those who think these kids are too young for this--they're twelve and thirteen. You're going to tell me you didn't have a crush when you were twelve?! (Unless you didn't actually have one, then you know, you do you, that's perfectly fine.)

I think some of these characters need therapy and it's definitely mentioned (TW: for a suicide attempt). One of the beautiful (and heartbreaking) things about Blake's writing is that she doesn't shy away from the tougher topics that are sometimes seen as taboo by parents. Listen, I work at a bookstore, I have seen all kinds of censoring from parents. But there are a few parents who want their children to read those stories that explore the scarier realities of what it means to be human. And then, you also have those parents who have kids who would heavily benefit from books like this because they might be able to relate to the characters' journey. This is why I will always jump into a Blake novel, feet first.

So, while this wasn't my favourite book of hers, it was definitely one of the more complicated ones. While we get the seemingly summer-filled magic of a mermaid who looks a little too much like the MC, we also get the heavy undertow of emotions unexplored and words unsaid. It's gorgeous, raw, and thought-provoking. I think it's important for kids to read these books, but also adults so they can get a bit of a glimpse into a child's mind.

___

6. Happiness Volume 1 by Shuzo Oshimi: ⭐️⭐️

All I can think when I think about this book now is:

I'm sure this is a cult favourite or something, but it was anticlimactic, weird, and kind of meh. I've read this author before and was genuinely uncomfortable in the past and weirded out in an awed way. I don't know if this was a "first volume" syndrome, but this was honestly missing everything I was hoping for.

One of the things that I think could have been done better was the portrayal of the MC's personality. The MC has a moment where he is faced with a situation that he probably normally doesn't find himself in and instead of showing us the progression of that, he just yells out "I'm not like that!" I wouldn't know, buddy. There is barely any lead up to making me think you're not like that.

Finally, the MC in this meets another character who is kind of weird and kind of mean and it brought back memories of a character we meet in BLOOD ON THE TRACKS (which is an incredible series by this author that I will always recommend). It felt a bit trope-y now that I know this author might do this on occasion.

I think I definitely need the rest of the series to fully get any sort of hype for this series, but my issue is that I don't think I care enough to do that. The art was beautiful, of course, but I just couldn't find it in me to care. I'm glad I didn't buy the rest of the volumes in this series 😅

___

7. Caught in a Bad Fauxmance by Elle Gonzalez Rose: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The moment I saw this cover, I knew I wanted to read this book. Even with the punny title, I was grabby hands for this story. And it didn't disappoint!

One of my favourite things about this book is how it shows the reader the differences between the families--like the haves and have-nots. Have a lot of money? Have a not-so-great family, but hey, a big cottage! Barely surviving with all of the hospital bills and regular life bills? Have a family that broke and healed itself again into a loving and spontaneous family.

I loved how grief was weaved into the story, but it didn't create a bitter relationship between the family members and the newer members. I want more stories like this where a blended family is just a thing and not the plot device. Anyway, I loved the family dynamics of the MC's family and even though his sister was annoying to me, I also understood why she was the way she was. Change is scary--especially when everyone else is changing and you're standing still because you're too scared to change.

I also liked the slow burn of the relationship, watching the characters slowly fall for each other was adorable. But much like the MC's sister, I was skeptical. I'm a Taurus, I'm gonna side eye you until you prove that you're not a shady person.

Loved the setting, the putting down of the smug ex boyfriend, the character growth, and the lead up to this tense event that is everyone's motivation. I LOVED the allusions to Latine culture and even the Spanish thrown in there every so often.

I do think some things happened a little too quickly and abruptly and that we're left with some unanswered questions. This is where I wish we had dual perspectives--I just think it would have made the story feel a little more rounded.

I'd recommend this for anyone looking for a cute and fun warm weather read (they're having Christmas in the sun, I'm jealous). Also, for anyone who likes to read YA books with complex familial relationships and that difficult topic of falling into what we love and still having that self-doubt of "is this really for me?"

___

Have you read any of these books? Would you recommend them?

___

Happy reading!

12 notes · View notes

birdantlers · 2 years

Note

10 for the ask game

10. The Dragon Ball series isn’t exactly known for being consistent with its story, its characters, and various other things. Which inconsistency irritates you the most?

Omg . This question.

Okay, there are a hundred million things I would change abt dragon ball if I could, but the thing that pisses me off the most is definitely inconsistency with Gohan's characterization. Namely,

[deep breath]

Gohan should have stayed/become the main character after Cell Saga what the hell.

I'm really tired rn so I can't elaborate as much as I want to but holy shit Buu saga really dropped the ball on this and it's one of the reasons I don't like that arc much. For a while before I knew what the arc was actually about, I got duped into thinking it would be largely Gohan-centric. Focusing on his relationship with humanity and his peers when he attends school / his old trauma/fears/idk.. anything negative or introspective?? Resurfacing when his dad comes back and shit inevitably hits the fan again.

(mandatory "thank for for existing, the Red Boy fic" statement. Look it up it's great I got derailed while reading the last chapter and I feel bad abt not getting back to it yet h)

But instead..... No? Gohan frustratingly gets yanked off center stage halfway through Buu saga, thanks to Toriyama's unfortunate authorship situation at the time. And after that he just....... Stays there. In the wings of Goku and Vegeta's story instead of taking the mantle of MC. It's really disappointing to me, and it's one of the reasons I still haven't watched Super lmao.

Ik I talk about piccolo for 172783736 hours at a time but Gohan's character arc is really the one that carries Z for me up to Buu saga. I consider Cell saga to be an infinitely superior end to his character arc, and I think the way it sticks the landing there is another reason why Buu saga gets on my nerves so much.

I've talked abt this with friends, but current Gohan also feels largely void of the gamut of emotions he was shown to have while younger, and that bugs the hell out of me. Obviously he's matured, but the fear and insecurity and loss he struggled with pre-buu arc feels strangely muted. Like he isn't allowed to cry now that he's an adult or something (though Goku got hit with this same problem, sigh). This doesn't help his already bad sidelining.

In Buu saga and Super, his repeated cycle of "BAMF fight where he comes out on top as strongest Z fighter→ peacetime→ complacency and domestic life→ uh oh he's weak now→ gets admonished for it and wins the day again" could be SUCH a good foundation for a compelling character arc, but they just. Don't do it! So it comes off as redundant and uncharacteristically negligent on Gohan's part. For as much as I love it, Super Hero drops the ball with this too.

I'm just gonna port my messages from discord and let y'all glean the gist

Basically Gohan feels kinda McGuffin-ized at this point and it makes me sad. He literally had a CELL clone in front of him and had no visible reaction or even an acknowledgement. He's verbally passionate about things like the saiyaman gig or entomology or his family, but the plot and writing don't allow him to actually struggle with the obligation his power gives him.

Like. He might on the surface, sure, but ultimately he just rolls over whenever someone goads him into fighting again (I have seen that part(s) of super don't @ me). I just can't help but see wasted potential and a character with somewhat weak writing. It really is like they just don't know what to do with him now. And that's a real shame because he still is my 1st/2nd favorite character and I am still interested in his arc. Way more so than Goku or Vegeta's. I just wish they would DO something with it 😭

Anyway. Can you believe this isn't even all my thoughts on the matter hdhdhdkdjdj

#oops i still wrote a lot #dbz #dragonball #gohan #skit yells #ask

82 notes · View notes

craftboxsys · 7 months

Text

district memories of managers master list

because like, two of my friends were actively curious and encouraged me to talk about my memories of the managers, so! i guess we'll start with the more tame of the two sets of memories. also heads up, these are mostly just for people i actively remember being around a lot or have actual memories of. uhh, people like cosmo, belle, tawney, holly, etc. aren't included because i was never around them enough to have an actual input on them as cogs.

anyways! memories under the cut. it starts with clash mems in green then my district in red.

benjamin biggs; very into sharing drama with people, i've listened to him maybe 5-6 times just go off about a set of cogs and then told me about rain & derrick man. outside of that i didn't really talk to him much? i've heard more from other toons if anything like how he's a bitch to fight because half the time he just taunts people then gets really loud with the stupid ringing.

buck ruffler; i more ran into buck a lot because we both had a mutual attachment to gambling. like, we became friends (sorta) over me running into him to play slots or something. quack was really fun to be around, really loud like me. we both matched each others energies really intensely and if anyone else was around they'd get annoyed super fucking fast. uhh buck didn't really give a shit that i broke the filter and thought it was really funny, we'd get into cussing matches in the server when it was dead so i didn't get caught by pete /silly

chip revvington; was NOT a fan of me by any means, i'm a horrible influence on pancake so he'd get really annoyed when he found out i was hanging out with her a lot. not to mention i was her SISTER FIGURE? outrageous! uhh, chip tended to be really quiet and reserved when we were alone though, it was really awkward but there were a few times when i was upset that he actually dropped the "i hate you" act and just kind of awkwardly asked me if i was okay and if he could help at all. i didn't really know what to do but it usually lead to just me being held. even if he hated me he kinda sucked at it /silly

dave brubot; really weird friendship with this guy. i hit him with a golf cart, he emoted, and slid/ran off for a good couple weeks before i'd see him again. uhh, met up again after i'd tripped and got squashed by a flowerpot? i got scooped up, dusted off, and set back down on the ground like nothing happened. can't remember what he said to me but it was probably something something are you okay or something. not quite like that, that's not the brubot fashion but yeah. he left again when i was sure i was alright, gave me his number, and i just kind of held onto it for a couple months? i didn't do anything with it, i just focused on my tasks for the most part before getting to the kudos board for mezzos melodyland and really just kinda went "huh. i forgot i had this." to the number? called it on the phone later that night and nobody picked up. but i think that was because he was performing, i later got a whisper from pancake about it asking if i called hymn. and uh, yeah. i got teased for a while about having his number and all that but we became really close friends. i'd go and visit him out of the blue during the day since his shows were at night. we just did a bunch of useless shit together a lot of the times, it was really fun... kind of domestic. i miss hymn, he's goofy as hell.

misty monsoon; i don't remember a whole ton about misty but i do remember us not liking each other at all for a period of time. uh, we sat down eventually and just started talking on the docks together. talked about exes, life goals, what we want to see out of the world... kind of just deep conversations. i asked her about mary since they were together and she told me about how their relationship is. i got advice from her about some other things and got told to never change who i am for anyone else. people'll love me if they see past all my dumb shit anyways and stick by my side if they really do care.

graham & flint bonpyre; the two of them were married in the clash mems i have, they're very very closeknit with each other. i used to steal stuff from graham's place in spite for like, the LONGEST time. pancake and flint both had to keep convincing me to bring things back myself and apologize in person, but then graham would go and taunt me about it. so, we kind of had this on/off frenemy situation going on. shakes my fist, clash graham you're a bitch!!!!!! as for flint he was generally really nice to me, he and pancake were in a qpr with each other so i saw flint more than graham. we'd chat with each other from time to time but otherwise i really didn't run around or into him too often. i'd stop and say hi if i saw him on the street over time because of pancake.

cathal bravecog; barely remember cathal but he was cool, we'd hangout pretty often just to play video games or just watch tv. i had a tendency to just pass out on his floor or the desk when we were in the middle of watching a movie or something on the longer side of things for time frame things. shrugs, would have to say? pretty cool guy tbh.

and now... onto the general gist of my district managers. i'm not typing out individual things like i did for clash memories because my head's starting to hurt trying to force myself to remember this stuff, but: like i said in the one post before about them all being their own brands of insane? yeah. that's really not far off. so far the only one i've really typed up anything for is graham because i was in and out of lullaby lane a lot since it connected to mezzos melody land.

graham, holly, prester, etc. were all programmed to be more of promotional kinds of bots. like, living... walking talking advertisements for human corporations or the idea of human corporations abroad. graham was more humanoid compared to the rest of the managers because he was meant to be like, a physical model or representation of humans to the toons since humans didn't frequent in toontown enough for everyone to be aware of them.

i don't remember exactly what all corporations they were promoting but it was probably a mix of a bunch of bullshit. i think a majority of my memories were just being involved in maybe one or two of their personal lives (chip and flint through pancake) and anyone else i hardly knew outside of running into them on the off chance i was out and about in their assigned playground districts.

i wanna say out of all of them i've seen mary the most? we're friends (ish) because of the one case i had that weaponized a cog with dip and was blasting toons with it in barnacle boatyard. it was contaminating the water so i had to work with a group of other people in the detective agency to figure out what the fuck to do to get this thing out of here. then mary rolls up and blasts it with a shit ton of water when it's core was exposed. so yeah, good relationship with mary at the very least. that and i wanna say dave and i were on really neutral terms in my district.

i'd swing by from time to time like clash mems but we didn't do much, it was more to just check if anything new happened related to a really long open case. uhh, i think i saw more of the managers after i stopped the detective things but they were all literally so fucking crazy at times it was a little off putting & scary.

not to mention there was a weird bug floating around for a while that transferred override codes to a couple of the other managers. chip didn't mean for that one to happen but it just did, he wasn't programmed with the override to begin with. if i remember right, he had something put in him when he was taken out in a fight maybe once. the details were really limited on that.

anything else relating to them were from things i'd heard on the offhand.

additionally for stuff with buck since i'm pretty sure people know from the past posts i've made on him that i have strong feelings towards my districts buck because, well uh... he's tried to kill me a decent few times.

#👑. Princess #it's a lot...

0 notes

cooloddball · 3 years

Text

This is going to be a super long analysis of jib3 starting with the opening ceremony to the closing ceremony so brace yourselves.

Please note I believe in the breakup theory so maybe my opinion in this one might be biased so please don’t come for me, lol.

I will put it under the cut to avoid overcrowding your dashes with cockles shenanigans.

Also, watch out for profanities and mature language.

And so it begins...

Opening ceremony

The camera used to record the opening ceremony is shaky.

Misha, Jason Manns, and Jarpad seem to be having a lot of fun together and Jensen is just looking at his besties talking to the man he loves and he knows he can’t have that so he just stands there looking at them. Poor guy.

Jarpad asks who took Misha’s riffle? Things are awkward, I honestly don’t know what’s going on.

Misha kisses a plushie while making eye contact with Jensen and Jensen is like “oh, oh, wow” while making eye contact with Misha. LOL. Jack help me. This is a lot!!!

Jensen takes a plushie from Sebastian and Jared takes the one Misha had.

Are you guys flirting about trying to see whether you can keep plushies alive?

Misha throws something at the fans, I think he was throwing treats from earlier or whatever it was and Jensen says “Misha is still throwing” I mean why?

Cockles Panel

Jensen is so extra in this panel.

First of all, when he and Misha come out (no pun intended) a song starts playing and he starts dancing. Jensen is usually so poised while dancing but he is over the top throwing his back and shaking his tush for the mish. I think he was trying a little too hard. Misha spares his ex-boyfriend’s tush a glance smiles and looks away. LOL. The whole thing was cringey, tbh. It was so unlike Jensen.

When Sebastian touches Jensen’s shoulder and says something to Jensen, he [Jensen] laughs way too hard. I would say he laughs abnormally-it’s loud and he throws his whole body into it like he’s trying to prove what Sebastian was funny and it probably wasn’t. He laughs so hard he ends up right on Misha’s side. and Misha laughs at that though.

Rich says something about something in the sac that hurts(It’s incoherent) and Jensen says it hurts right here pointing at his heart (I can’t hear what they are saying exactly so if anyone knows please let me know)

I don’t know if Mark P. was going to hug Jensen or not or he was pointing at something behind Jensen, but at that moment, Jensen sees Sebastian going to hug Misha and whips his head away from Mark P’s direction so fast he almost broke his neck.

Sebastian humps Misha (these two are so playful I love them) and Jensen is just there acting awkward

There’s a comment by Rich about “It’s over, the convention’s over I’m no longer your bitch” I don’t know who this is about.

Now, now, now. This whole time Rich is doing a kissy mouth with his fingers on the monitor behind Jensen and Misha. His hand is right where Misha is standing (you’ll understand once you watch it) so Jensen makes a kissy face back and Misha is blushing? Ummm wtf is going on here?

Jensen also does something strange that he never does during cockles panels he pulls his seat away from Misha.

Misha makes a very weird comment about Sebastian’s libido drying up and they have a weird conversation about libido and Viagra ads. It’s weird.

It gets even more awkward Jensen talks about bringing a total stranger, and a blind date. And it goes downhill from there with them. The it wasn’t you it was me speech. It was special. So heartbreaking. It was clearly not about the show but about their relationship. I always have a difficult time getting through that part. It’s so awkward that the fans are just there wondering what the hell is going on.

They decide to take questions and the fan is all over the place so Misha interjects but Jensen won’t let Misha say what he wants to say so he says, “This is why you make it awkward. You never let people finish what they are saying.” Ouch. Domestic dispute vibes anyone?

The way Jensen is looking up at Misha when he’s answering that question. It’s like he wants to sear his face into his memory before they leave Rome.

Jensen is explaining to a fan how one of the four sound stages they had on set was full of furniture and Misha adds “and soiled mattresses” I mean what was the reason? Did they soil the mattresses with their [redacted]

A fan mentions something about Dean and Cas so these two adorable dorks smile and share a look. Things are starting to look up. Thank Jack.

The fan says something again (I can’t make out what he’s saying) but it must be something nice because they look at each other with smiles on their faces again.

Jensen playing with the head of his microphone. Is it just me or did the temperature rise a notch higher?

The way they look at each other when the fan says to help him choose the hottest female cast member on the show

Then something freaky happens they say the exact same thing as twins or bffs do sometimes. LOL.

When they start talking about the hot women with the fans Misha moves his entire body and now instead of looking at the fans, he is seated facing Jensen. The tension is simmering down.

A point to note is that in all their panels they always sit angled facing each other as opposed to facing the crowd save for this panel and DCCON 2019. But for DCCON I can understand that they weren’t comfortable being meant to be a J/2 panel and a creation event. So you know some people in that crowd are super mean to Mish and others to Jensen, so they had to tread carefully. But I digress back to the chaos.

They ask who wants to have a cockles panel the next year and they both raise their hands. I thought that was sweet

It’s adorable how Jensen keeps repeating everything Misha is saying.

Misha forgets himself and moves too close to Jensen to listen to the song on the phone. Jensen turns to look at Misha, I don’t know what that look is but Misha backs away laughing.

Jensen’s face journey while listening to that song is gold.

Misha moves closer to listen to the song. I have to say the way they are standing is not usually how two bros listening to music usually stand. If you know what I mean

Misha agrees that’s definitely Jensen singing. Of course, he knows because Mr. “Jensen sings to me all the time”

He looks so proud of him. I’d venture to say he’s happy to hear Jensen sing because he has always been so shy about that fact about himself. He even gives him a standing ovation. That’s so adorable. He loves him. My heart.

Jensen is so cute trying to deny it’s not him singing that song. Yeah, it’s you, Jensen. Even your ex agrees it’s you and we bet he knows how your voice sounds in all kinds of situations ;)

we get a tingly feeling so we know it’s you. Jensen’s adorable smile when Misha says that. Aww.

The way they are not even looking at each other but they are seated the exact same way.

Allow me to explain to my friend here. Explains how his parents didn’t know whether he was a boy or a girl. Misha with the steel chair, “when did they figure out that you were a boy?”

How many years did they call you holly?

For six to seven years

Is it just me or is this conversation a flashback of teenage twink-lesbian Jensen years?

Fan asks whether Dean will ever forgive Cas. Watch Misha’s body language, he is trying to pacify himself by rubbing the back of his neck and fumbling with his shirt.

When Jensen says “ No!” without a moment’s hesitation, Misha looks distraught? I don’t know maybe I’m reading too much into this but I feel like this hit too close to home being that they were most likely broken up.

Misha however has a different opinion, “I think he has”

Jensen says, “Wishful thinking” and that elicits a smile from Misha.

A fan asks about Dean giving Cas the trenchcoat back and things get interesting. Weirdly, that Jensen can’t say the word gay out loud. He literally uses the word “unmanly” in its stead in the guise of censorship? It’s not a bad word Jensen you can say it. However, Misha and the fans say the word so I’m wondering who is censoring Jensen’s use of that word. He eventually says it but super fast.

Jensen says that saying “I always knew you would come back” is not something he would say to another human being, especially a man. Jesus, there’s nothing wrong with saying that to another human being you care about. He’s the one making it gay. He was extra when answering that one.

They spent one and half hours making that scene just to end up not saying anything and it ended up looking gay anyway. Anyway, that’s interesting.

Jensen angles his body towards Mish and says in a very low soft and sexy voice “I guess I really hoped that you would come back some day” I would venture to say that Jensen at the moment in the panel was actually saying them to Misha. Who knows though?

They talk about it a whole lot for something that bothered him that much.

Misha being so excited about recreating a scene when a fan told Jarpad he’s amazing and Jarpad said "you are welcome.

“I think I understand what she wants. I’m not sure what she’s gonna get.” This is a very good line Misha. I will be using it often.

The way they awkwardly stand too close and whisper to each other. Umm…what is going on here?

Jensen folds over laughing because of something Misha says. They are back. The tension is almost 90% gone now and they are in their element.

The chaos of recording the alarm ringtone for the fan was just great to watch. They kept getting closer and closer and I think they might have shared spit at that point. Gross….LOL

The way Misha is sitting is he you know.

Jensen asking Misha whether he was saying anything or just screaming while they were recording. I think he just wanted to see Misha smile.

Jensen’s joy when a fan mentions that they have Misha’s résumé.

Jensen saying the word shit made my day. I curse a lot and it made me feel validated somehow.

Misha calls him dickhead in return and Jensen stops functioning and laughs instead . He also gets all hot and bothered trying to fumble with the lapel of his shirt. He does this a lot when he is turned on. He has a humiliation kink I think.

They start talking over each other about Misha’s special skills. Looks like Jensen might have known beforehand because he went straight for that. Or maybe he didn’t know but he knew since Misha is a mad genius there must be some amazing things in there. Either way, it was a good moment.

OMG Jensen is so excited and the way he motions to Misha to bring that résumé to him, LOL. This man was thirsty AF.

He even goes down from the stage to meet Misha and invades his personal space trying to reach the résumé. I think this is the moment the tension between them dissipated completely and they were back to some form of normalcy.

Misha holding Jensen’s shoulder trying to get his résumé back. Unsucessfully, I should add.

They read something funny and they fold over laughing and spin around like overjoyed seals. It is far removed from the mollusk family but at least it’s still a sea creature (I don’t know what I’m saying please don’t mind me)

Jensen is still on his knees laughing and can’t get up. As I said, he is being too extra in this panel.

Misha is trying to talk but they both can’t stop laughing. I think Jensen laughed so hard he got an extra set of abs that day.

Jensen is still laughing and you know what he is laughing at? Misha’s special skills being acting on camera. I mean it’s funny but man, prayforjensen.

They are still laughing. Jack, help them.

The way Jensen looks at Misha with pure adoration here makes me so happy and reminds me of the fictional characters they played being all heart eyes for each other.

Misha laughed so hard he cried.

Jensen trying to read the next ‘special skill’ Misha has but he can’t even talk because of how funny he thinks it is. He’s trying so hard not to laugh but he can’t help himself.

Jensen agreeing and also asking the audience to agree that Misha has a knack for certain accents. Accent kink anyone?

Jensen is so excited when Misha starts Tibetan throating singing and does the unicorn laugh facing away from the crowd. Bet he has experienced Misha’s Tibetan throat singing skills on a personal when they are (loud overhead helicopter noises followed by thunder rumbling)

Jensen falling to the ground after feigning a heart attack once he saw that Misha is a certified EMT. I mentioned before that I honestly, 100% think he wanted mouth to mouth. There’s no other explanation. He could’ve feigned a nose bleed or just about any other illness but he chose to fall on a dirty floor and lay down so Misha could either give him the breath of life or straddle him. Luckily for him his dream came true 7 years later at Jib9 when straddle gate happened. But I digress

Too bad Misha was still mad at him and heartbroken so he kicked him instead.

Jensen knowing that Misha kayaks seems to be part of his personal knowledge. Maybe they did it together sometimes.

Horseback riding. Hmm is it just me or do they seem awkward here?

Misha is so close to Jensen’s armpits. Must be missing his man’s musk and being held in those muscular arms again. Poor baby.

Misha can’t talk because of how funny he finds bicycle touring. I mean…I don’t see what’s funny but I guess he knows why it’s funny.

Misha laughing and raises his legs because Jensen is elaborating on the bicycle touring. Maybe it’s an inside joke or maybe it’s no longer funny to me because I’ve watched this panel like 5 times.

I think Jensen’s goal was to see Misha laugh and be happy because he turned to look at Misha who was still laughing hard and the joy on Jensen’s face. Aww.

Misha gravitating towards his man again. He must smell really nice Misha. And those arms. Bet he used to lift you against the wall and (this fucking thunder won’t stop rambling. Are chuck and Amara fighting again?)

Jensen marketing his man’s carpentry skills but then makes sure to make it ‘no homo’ by saying he would never sit on anything Misha has built. Sure Jan. Then he circles back and says that he knows that he can build things.

Misha walks away from him and he looks up to make sure where he is going. Maybe he was afraid Misha was walking out on him. (PTSD from their breakup?)

They mention acting on camera again.

And laugh

Jensen keeps talking about the acting on camera and watches to see if Misha is still laughing He still is and Jensen is happy that his baby is happy. He looks at him again and he is still happy that Misha is still happy. Then once the laughter dies down he starts talking about bicycle touring and checks again to see if Misha is laughing which he is so Jensen throws his head back unicorn laughing and then looks at Misha again to see that he’s still laughing. Then they look at each other and say something maybe it’s about that was a good laugh. Jensen is wiping tears from his eyes because of how hard he laughed Misha does the same. That entire thing was insane and they seemed to love it.

Jensen starts saying that being this happy or goofing around is how they are on set sometimes and have to take a 5-10 minute break and Misha doesn’t seem too happy at the mention of the set.

Jensen knowing that you can buy résumés on eBay. Did he buy Misha’s and then plant someone in the audience to bring it up or? Okay, yeah I know I’m reaching here but it’s probable.

I guess my theory wasn’t farfetched because Jensen says that he’s pretty sure that Jarpad put it on eBay the previous night so maybe he is the one who did all that to win Misha back?

Jensen knows the appellation clogging is a stretch. Seems like Misha has told him about it before.

Jensen looking at his watch to see if they have time for Misha to be telling a story about his high school sweetheart and now wife. I bet he wishes Misha could tell their love story so openly. He can’t stop looking at Misha.

The way Jensen is looking at Misha here. WTF man? He’s literally confused about what the question is.

The personal space question. This whole thing was just so many things. It was awkward, cringey, thirsty, funny.

when the fan asks whether there’s a funny fact between Jensen and Misha. I almost fainted. What? And Jensen repeats it. The two men are so stoic. They are not even looking at each other. They are looking at the fan like the way a statue stares at you, unmoving. Cringe.

The room is so quiet. Poor girl, I hope she didn’t feel awkward afterwards because if it were me, I would’ve cried from how stoic they looked and how quiet everyone was.

How they both scratch themselves, Misha on the head and Jensen on the nose. Maybe the question hit too close to home

Jensen turns to look at Misha as if to say ’help me out here man. We don’t wanna disappoint our fans.”

Misha gets it because he gets up. This whole thing is gold.

The way Jensen breathes out in anticipation. I know it was like they were playing a skit about personal space but why was he breathing like that? Shouldn’t he have been playing it as ‘uncomfortable’ not ‘turned on.’ Boudoir mannerisms.

Moving on Misha is unsure on where to touch Jensen 40.31. This is weird in and of itself because usually, they don’t have a problem touching each other’s faces, tush, eggplants, (jib4 anyone), backs et cetera. But now it’s weird? *cough* breakup *cough*

Misha touches Jensen’s ear and Jensen literally moans. He frigging moans people. In case it is not clear in the video, here is an isolated audio version of it. Jensen is also fumbling with his shirt like he’s all hot and bothered. Just like Misha did earlier. Was Jib3 their couple’s therapy that reminded them how happy and horny they made each other?

Jensen is really not answering the question, to be honest. He’s fumbling for words and trying so very hard to make sense but his word are incoherent.

Misha going in for the nose dip. I know friends do this all the time but you have to be very close and familiar with someone such as a friend friend or a sibling for you to poke a finger in their nose. I mean noses are slimy and eww…anyway. That happened. They seem so comfortable with it. Jensen I love you but please stop talking.

The way Jensen looks at Misha. He has the cutest smile on his face as if saying thank you for making that fun and making me horny, I still want you.

Misha wiping his pinky that touched Jensen’s nose on his pants. (I wanted to add something disgusting about what heshould’ve done with that pinky but I won’t so let’s move on)

Jensen wiggling his nose.

When Misha suggests that Spn moves to Nickolodeon. Jensen laughs a bit too hard.

Misha talking about spn being a puppet show reminds me of how he mentioned them having a puppet show in Jensen’s backyard after the show is over.

Jensen also saying that in a way spn is a puppet show. I mean is someone making snide comments about how their strings get pulled and sometimes they are not happy about it. Like how they fired his boyfriend. It seems like it’s an inside joke.

They named the plushie Zippy aww :))

For jack’s sake guys, the way they look at each other when they mention that the résumé was the highlight of the panel.

Jensen saying the more dirt you dig up on Misha, the more rewarded you are. Aww, someone’s trying to win his man back by any means necessary. You go girl…I mean Jensen.

He talks more about how he’s looking forward to next year when fans have more dirt on his friend Misha. Jensen didn’t want to leave the stage, he was lingering so he could spend more time with Misha.

It’s over guys.

Closing Ceremony

I know you didn’t ask for the closing ceremony but here you go. It’s a free gift.

Can I just mention how Jarpad is an overactive puppy? He has to play with anything and everything he finds.

The mc announces Misha twice for some reason. The second time Jensen looks in Misha’s direction with a small smile on his face. He [Jensen] is also chewing vigorously.

Jensen and Jarpad being typical dude bros and karate chop Rich. This is why the difference between his relationship with Jarpad and Misha stands out. He would be too busy making heart eyes to Misha to kick another guy. LoL.

Jensen hulking out when Jarpad is taking a video of everyone. Lol. This video keeps reiterating my point that his relationship with the two men is just different.

Jensen keeps looking in Misha’s direction, Misha who is busy talking to Steve and having fun. Let me also mention Steve is Jensen’s bestie and so are Jarpad and Misha, but I’m sure that Jensen felt some type of way, jealous when they were having so much fun with his man and he couldn’t. Jarpad also takes a while filming Misha for Jensen of course. They remind me of me having a crush back when I was in school. Wait, did Misha look at Jensen? It’s hard to see because the angle of the video is not expansive but I guess he was.

As soon as Jarpad gets back, Jensen takes the camera from him and starts filming fans. I’m sure he just wanted Misha to look at him

Rich mention’s Misha and something about acting on camera and Jensen licks his lips looking at Misha (I think).

Jensen then vigorously grabs the microphone from someone immediately and mention’s Misha. Jarpad’s reaction at that moment tells you everything you need to know about what’s going on between Jensen and Misha. It looks like he is pleading with Jensen in his head saying, “Don’t embarrass yourself bro. Please don’t” but it’s too late.

Jensen again talks about Misha’s résumé and specifically about acting on camera, the thing that made Misha laugh out loud during their panel. Someone’s smitten. Defending his ex-man.

Jarpad goes to whisper something to Misha. And they laugh while Jensen is thanking the jib staff for doing an amazing job. But when he sees the duo laughing, he loses track of thought and says “and they are all getting married” dude what ??? How do you go from thanking people who worked on the convention and in .1 seconds you are talking about they are all getting married? Who is? Are you okay? Do you need to sit down? No one gets it, he says he’s kidding and gives Jarpad the microphone, spares a glance at Misha and he seems distraught from that moment on. I wish I could see Misha’s face through all this.

He’s glancing in Misha’s direction again. Man’s got it bad. What?! Oh to be loved by Jensen Ackles. Misha must be a prize, I know he is a mad genius and gorgeous and sexy as hell with that golden skin that looks like it was dipped in gold and honey, big blue eyes that are bluer than the bluest blue, but Jensen wtf man? You are in public.

I think Jarpad is telling Jensen something maybe it has to do with what he and Misha were talking about earlier?

And it’s over people.

Overall, I agree with the breakup theory. I mean the way these two were acting around each other was very strange. If you watch Misha and Jarpad, they seem okay from the opening ceremony up till the end but Jensen and Misha are just being weird.

The panel was mostly fun but their body language told a story that something was definitely going on between them.

@littlewolf2703

#jib3 #jibcon 2012 #jib3 analysis #jib3 cockles panel #cockles #this was a doozy #glad to be done #there was a lot going on in that panel #cockles break up #cockles break up theory

225 notes · View notes

kstewdeux · 3 years

Text

@inukagfluffweek

August 11, 2021 - Touch

Lewd

For the life of him, Inuyasha could not figure out why people were staring at them more than usual or, more unnervingly, why Miroku kept giving him some very uncomfortable glances filled to the brim with amusement. Per the norm when the things made him uneasy, Inuyasha had taken to sticking a little closer to Kagome than he traditionally would have in a clearly hostile village. Not because he couldn’t protect himself, okay? He was perfectly capable of protecting himself and had for over a hundred years. And, to be clear, being around her didn’t make him feel safe. Definitely didn’t need to feel safe when he could defeat these assholes with one hand behind his back. He absolutely did not need Kagome to protect him and she wouldn’t be able to do much on that front in any case. It was just that he felt a little more secure near her. Secure was not the same thing as safe. Not at all. He didn’t need her to feel safe. Just…a little more confident when he was admittedly a little anxious people were staring. At first, it actually wasn’t that bad but the stares just kept getting worse and so…

But he was not staying close because he was scared. He wasn’t scared of anything. Except, well, losing her so…so that was probably why he felt the need to stay close. So he could protect her if shit hit the fan. Knowing that she was safe made his chest less tight and his stomach stop churning. Sure as hell wasn’t because…

Letting out a controlled exhale, Inuyasha distractedly flicked at some crust that had somehow lodged itself in the corner of one eye before letting his hand drop again.

“What a beautiful public display,” Miroku hummed as he sidled up to his companions and gave Inuyasha a mischievous grin, “It’s almost heartwarming to see two young people so in love.”

For some unknown reason, Kagome choked as her heart started beating so fast from fear Inuyasha’s instincts nearly went into overdrive. Why the hell was the wench so terrified?

Glancing around, amber eyes widened at the realization that Kagome might be just as worried about the stares they’d been receiving. Maybe she was staying close to him for….similar reasons he’d been staying close to her.

“You need to shut up,” Inuyasha hissed quietly before lowering his volume more so as to not be overheard - somehow making the monk look even more amused, “This ain’t the place to say shit like that. The villagers have been watching me like a hawk.”

“I absolutely cannot imagine why,” Miroku snickered as he pointedly glanced down and set his jaw to keep his shit eating grin in check, “In any case, Sango is almost done buying provisions so why don’t we move on ahead, hm?”

“Fine by me,” Inuyasha huffed as he began walking forward only to realize - when the thing in his hand jerked once to keep him in place - exactly why people were staring. Amber eyes widened in mild horror as they darted to the hand clasped securely in his own which was attached to the miko herself.

When did they start holding hands? He sure as hell didn’t do that and yet his palm was slightly sweaty indicating he’d been holding her hand for some time now.

“We should wait for her,” Kagome chided nervously as she gave Inuyasha’s hand a light squeeze making butterflies erupt in his stomach, “It shouldn’t be much longer.”

Mentally going over their day, Inuyasha tried to pin point when exactly the hand-holding started. They’d been walking side by side most of the day but he…he didn’t remember…

She must’ve started it.

“Why are you holding my hand?” Inuyasha asked - even though he took no action to cease the contact.

Giving him a strange look, the miko gave him an answer he did not like.

“Because you kept putting your hand in mine?” Kagome replied slowly - her worried look morphing into an amused one, “Wait…”

Some flashed behind her eyes and the melting look on her face made his stomach churn.

“Aw, you didn’t…”

“No ‘aw’. There is no ‘aw’ here,” Inuyasha huffed as he pulled his hand back and tucked both hands into his sleeves, “You did this. Not me.”

The melting look increased and Kagome gave him an affectionate smile.

“Awww….”

“What did I say about no ‘aw’!” Inuyasha huffed desperately, “I didn’t start this.”

“Yes you did,” Kagome sing songed and much to Inuyasha utter shock, a nearby elderly human woman chuckled softly to herself while looking between the pair with something akin to strangerly affection. Which disturbed him as much if not more than whatever was happening with him and his wandering hand.

Breathing heavily, Inuyasha’s mind continued racing down every moment of this fateful day. Trying to find the moment or apparently moments where he’d been the one to instigate the offensive touch but no matter how hard he tried, he had no memory of it. None whatsoever. Every minute of that day had felt natural. Normal even.

“D-do I do shit like that a lot?” he finally asked - his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to keep his composure.

“No but I liked it,” Kagome admitted with a hum before taking a step closer and giving him a shy smile that had his ears pinning back against his head.

And then she did something that absolutely crashed his mind…

She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss on his cheek.

“You can hold my hand whenever you…”

“Are you insane?! You can’t just kiss me like that in strange villages,” Inuyasha hissed as his mind finally caught up - his hand desperately trying to wipe away the perceived sin. Kagome’s grin only made his anger and discomfort grow hotter.

“To be clear then, it’s okay if I do that in familiar places?” came her teasing retort and for a moment, Inuyasha was almost very, very stupid. He almost said something along of the line of forbidding kisses entirely. Something he most certainly did not want to forbid. Especially considering she was pretty much saying she’d give him kisses if he wanted them.

Blushing faintly, Inuyasha decided the best course of action was to react normally. Brush her off and declare her stupid…

Thankfully the old woman watching saw the incoming relationship bomb coming before it landed and for some unknown reason, felt inclined to defuse the explosive before it detonated.

“Be bold boy and say yes,” the elderly woman chuckled softly, “A girl like that won’t wait for you forever and the monk is right. Anyone with eyes can see you love her.”

“Stay outta this” Inuyasha snapped irritably - a reaction to which the old woman thankfully seemed amused by, “What makes you so bold?”

Miroku’s hand flew to the top of his head - hoping his friend didn’t just incur someone’s wrath and also…didn’t Inuyasha just say they shouldn’t draw attention to themselves? Was this just how he coped with fear and anxiety? Antagonize people? If so, how was Inuyasha still alive?!

“Well this was my husbands village and now it belongs to my son. Everything that happens here is my business,” the old woman hummed - giving the somewhat nervous trio a reassuring smile, “And seeing as how you’re in my village, what I say goes.”

“Crack pot,” Inuyasha huffed - earning a full blown facepalm from the miko - and the old woman, to her credit, simply smirked. Not at all afraid of the teenager even with all his fangs and demonic energy. Mostly because he was obviously domesticated and in the presence of equally powerful friends who could stop him from doing any real damage but also because this demon clearly had a good heart and therefore, she reasoned, wouldn’t harm her.

And while that was all mostly true, that didn’t mean Inuyasha wasn’t seriously considering punching her.

“Inuyasha, you need to be nicer to people.”

“Fine. Fine,” Inuyasha huffed as his blush deepened. Glancing at the old woman to make sure she wasn’t upset by what he’d said, Inuyasha turned his gaze back towards the miko who was clearly expecting him to apologize to the old woman. Which he wasn’t gunna do but he could fix one thing that probably needed fixing for a while now.

Squaring his shoulders, Inuyasha cleared his throat and…tried…

“It’d be annoying but if you…you want to kiss me sometimes, I won’t stop you.”

Kagome blinked once then twice.

“Come again?”

Quickly reaching over to push Miroku away face first before he could add in his two cents, Inuyasha tried to look like what he’d said wasn’t awkward as hell.

“I said if you want to kiss me, go ahead. Old bat was right,” Inuyasha hufffed before his eyes widened in horror at what he’d impulsively implied, “I mean, you already j-just do shit. I c-can’t really stop you.”

Kagome made a bemused face and wrinkled her nose at this bizarre admission. That was at least twice now that Inuyasha hadn’t shot someone down after they announced he loved her. Which was unusual and for someone as easily triggered as he was, that left her with a most wonderful conclusion.

One that he apparently realized she’d come to and so Inuyasha did what Inuyasha do.

He tried to protect himself. Poorly.

“I see that look. Don’t be stupid. I mean…yeah, she was right about…about the love part…I do, um, love you, ya know, as a friend. A good friend. And, um, sometimes friends they kiss I think.”

“Well if that is true I must inform San…”

With a soft groan at his own cringeworthy awkwardness, Inuyasha once again necessarily pressed his hand against the closer than usual monk’s face and gave it a light push. This was already nerve racking enough without the monk making it more weird on purpose. First he was holding his woman’s hand without realizing and now he’d all but admitted how he felt. Something he’d been denying himself because he didn’t want to force someone to walk beside him as he faced the constant pile of shit being thrown at him. Add to that he didn’t deserve to be happy when Kikyo was suffering and it was just…wrong to feel like he did.

What he wanted didn’t matter. It never mattered…

Kagome smiled and his stomach turned into pleasant knots.

Except it did. Hell did it ever. He couldn’t even go more than a day without this woman before he lost his fucking mind. What was he going to do if she knew and didn’t feel the same way? Or worse, what if a chance at a relationship ended badly?! If she left him, she’d take the only friends he’d ever had with her…

He’d be alone…

“Uh….huh…”

Panicking now, Inuyasha decided to rely on old faithful and go for an insult to force her back into friendship lane. This was getting into dangerous territory. She knew. Mainly because he told her but he…he could fix it.

“W-why are you so s-stupid, huh?” Inuyasha added a little desperately and much to his horror Kagome’s knowing smile only grew, “I’m just saying you just do shit and…I mean, what am I supposed to do, huh? You just throw yourself at…”

The old woman snickered at the scene and threw in her thoughts with a bemused laugh, “Please just kiss him young lady and put us all out of our misery. He talks far too much for his own good.”

“STAY OUTTA THIS YOU OLD…” Inuyasha began to bellow before whimpering softly when Kagome sealed his mouth with her own. Before he knew it, his arms were pulling her up and against him to give her the best access. It was beautiful and pure and everything he’d hoped a real kiss would be like. While she had done that before, this was the first time she’d done it for a reason other than saving his sorry ass. She’d done that only because she wanted to and that fact that she’d done it just because nearly brought a tear to his eye. Did she…did she love him back?

“You know,” Kagome panted lightly as she pulled back and nuzzled her man’s nose, “I love you too.”

Visibly wilting in relief, Inuyasha gave Kagome the most affectionate look anyone had ever seen on his face. A look that crumpled and turned to annoyance when Miroku made another comment about ‘public displays’.

The old woman simply rolled her eyes and continued on her way - mentally chuckling to herself about how the youth of today could be so foolish and how life was far too short.

A short distance away her middle aged son was watching his mother with a weary smile while the pair of mercenaries seemed to discuss something of great magnitude.

“That’s a dangerous thing you just did.”

“I did nothing but nudge those two down a path they were already on,” the old woman chuckled softly - reaching out to pat her son’s arm, “Love is love sweetheart. It’s one of those funny things in life that just is.”

For a long moment, the son watched the newly formed couple as they resumed holding hands before sighing and turning to follow his mother.

“I meant you meddle far too much” the son continued - glancing over his shoulder to make sure they went being overheard, “They’re mercenaries by trade. You saw their weapons. Probably fresh from some war and…”

“Mercenaries deserve love as well…”

The son let out a long exhale and rolled his eyes.

“Mother. That boy had claws…”

“Claws deserve love…”

The son stopped mid step and groaned that kind of exasperated groan only a child with an embarrassing parent would understand before glancing over his shoulder to watch the little band move on towards their next bounty. One day his mother was going to try to play matchmaker with the wrong two people…

But thankfully, it would seem she always managed to pick the right ones.

#inukag fluff week #inukag fluff week 2021 #inukag #inuyasha #kagome #ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #kstewdeux

101 notes · View notes

ambiguousdisorderken · 4 years

Note

in your expert opinion what are some of the most destiel-heavy episodes of spn? i stopped watching around season 7 and have no interest in engaging w the plot of the show at all but i’m in the mood for some gay yearning ykwim

Hi anon! Thank you for reaching out to me about this, I’m, no-joke, very flattered. I’d seen a couple posts on this same question, very thorough and detailed lists on Destiel-centric episodes, but at the moment I cannot find any of them, that would’ve answered your request much faster. So, in advance, sorry, my reply is probably coming in extremely late, but I did write this from scratch, so yeah.

Even though storylines in SPN can be very shitty and hollow, I do feel that to get the full Destiel experience -that long-drawn yearning- one would have to watch the entirety of the show, even if Cas isn’t in the episode or if there’s no explicit mention of their relationship/bond because it gives you a better understanding of them as characters and of how their relationship affects the narrative.

Now, you mentioned you stopped around S7, which is completely understandable and justified given the Dick plot game was very weak and, in my opinion, annoying (so little Cas!). I’m going to start listing from S7 in case you want to refresh your SPN before jumping straight into unseen episodes. Also, since you mentioned no interest in the plot and are specifically craving those sweet crumbs of gay yearning, I’ll skip most one-sided / too subtle episodes and cut to the chase.

Lastly, I hate spoiling things, but you’ve probably seen it all on Tumblr. I tried to keep the episodes’ descriptions short, as it might come in useful. Stuck to key words, quotes and/or little comments.

Season 7

7x01 – Meet the New Boss: Godstiel, sincere apology. Cas: “I'm gonna find some way to redeem myself to you.”

7x02 – Hello, Cruel World: Mourning. Trench coat melancholy. The heart-wrenching eulogy: “Dumb son of a bitch.”

7x17 – The Born-Again Identity: Emmanuel!Cas, reunion, longing, hurt.

7x21 – Reading is Fundamental: Honey!Cas, hug, hurt, reunion, that painful SORRY (board game) scene.

7x23 – Survival of the Fittest: Honey!Cas, forgiveness, adorable, wified Cas. Dean hits us with: “Nobody cares that you're broken, Cas!" but also “I'd rather have you, cursed or not.”

Season 8 (this season is so good and Destiel is the driving motor of it, I swear. If you can, watch it complete.)

8x01 – We Need to Talk About Kevin: Dean in Purgatory looking for the angel. Cas is referred to as “your [Dean’s] angel.”

8x02 – What’s Up, Tiger Mommy?: HUG!!!, Purgatory reunion, face touch, very romantic. Monster: “ You'll find your angel there.” // Dean: “Let me bottom-line it for you. I'm not leaving here without you.”

8x05 – Blood Brother: Cas vs. Benny cat fight lol. Dean: “Cas... we're gonna shove your ass back through the eye of that needle if it kills all three of us.”

8x07 – A Little Slice of Kevin: Cas comes back from Purgatory, but before that Dean starts seeing him in places. Very tragic; hallucinating your dead significant other trope. Has That boner scene. Dean: “I did everything I could to get you out! EVERYTHING!” Cas helps Dean see what truly happened in Purgatory and not his self-altered memories. PACKED!

8x08 – Hunteri Heroici: Hilarious, romantic, intimate. Dean and Cas have an heart to heart. They actually communicate. Cas “I’ll watch over you.”

8x10 Torn and Frayed: They work a case together, and when I say heart eyes…

8x17 – Goodbye Stranger: THIS. EPISODE. Dean “I need you.”

8x19 – Taxi Driver: Separation. Naomi to Dean: "You're hoping Castiel will return to you. I admire your loyalty; I only wish he felt the same way."

8x22 – Clip Show: Lack of trust, hurt, tense interactions. Romantic too (basically, Cas gets Dean an apology basket).

8x23 – Sacrifice: Meaningful conversation and a gay couple hit by Cupid parallel. Dean “So this is it? E.T goes home?"

Season 9

9x01 – I think I’m Gonna Like it Here: Dean prays to Cas IN.A.CHAPEL. Worry, longing, separation. Dean “Please, man, I need you here.”

9x03 – I’m No Angel: Human!Cas and jealous!Dean.

9x06 – Heaven Can’t Wait: Human!Cas TEXT-BOOK LONGING. GAY AS FUCK. Gazing, touching, they even TALK (for real).

9x09 – Holy Terror: Adorable Cas, flirty vibes, happyish, funny. Cas: “Cas is back in town!”

9x10 – Road Trip: Cas comforts Dean, Cas and Crowley bitching at each other, overall protective!Cas.

9x18 – Metafiction. Cas finds out about the Mark of Cain.

9x21 – King of the Damned: Hug, strong boyfriends vibes.

9x22 – Stairway to Heaven: Cas gives up an entire army, for Dean. Metatron about Cas “He's in love………………………. with humanity.”

9x23 – Do You Believe in Miracles?: At this point, it’s canon stated that Cas will do anything and lose everything if that means saving Dean. Metatron to Cas “You draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right?”

Season 10

10x01 – Black: Demon!Dean and sick/brokenhearted Cas in a slutty robe missing his man.

10x03 – Soul Survivor: ICONIC. Angel on Demon action! Cas turns down Hannah because he’s too gay and in love. Intimate Deancas talk.

10x05 – Fan Fiction: No Cas, but Destiel references.

10x09 – The Things We Left Behind: That.Lunch.Date. Deancas introduction to co-parenting.

10x14 – The Executioner’s Song: We get Daddy Murder aka Cain. This is a Pivotal episode to understand Dean’s character development. Plus, it has Deancas interactions.

10x16 – Paint It Black: No Cas, but Dean opens up in confessionary; repressed BISEXUAL AS FUCK.

10x18 – Book of the Damned: Charlie meets Cas. Gay energies everywhere. Cute domestic little scene.

10x20 – Angel Heart: PARENTING! Essential to understand Cas from this point forward.

10x22 – The Prisoner: Just… just watch it. One of THEE Destiel episodes.

10x23 – Brother’s Keeper: No Deancas interactions but it’s the finale, and I recommend watching it because next season takes off literally right from here. No time jumps.

Season 11

11x02 – Form and Void: Could skip to the very end which is when Cas comes back.

11x03 – The Bad Seed: Cursed!Cas. Dean takes care of him, even wraps him in a blanket. He also cradles his face. Extreme Hurt/Comfort. Jacting joices rejoice.

11x10 – The Devil in the Details: Could skip but has Casifer in it. Interesting to see his dynamic with Dean.

11x18 – Hell’s Angel: Casifer. Dean "It? It's not an it, Sam, it's Cas!"

11x23 – Alpha and Omega: Huggg! Cas willing to go on a guaranteed suicide mission with Dean. Very tender and sad.

Season 12

12x02 – Keep Calm and Carry On: ANOTHER HUG! Dean presents his boyfriend to his mom<3 Soft and romantic.

12x09 – First Blood: Reunion hug<3, Cas pining… as in he counts his every minute without Dean.

12x10 – Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets: Direct parallel with canon couple. Crystal-clear mutual affection. One of the best. Angel Ishim to Cas about Dean “I'm gonna help you. I'm gonna cure you of your human weakness same way I cured my own… by cutting it out.”

12x12 – Stuck in the Middle with You: A dying Cas confesses his love. “I love you. I love all of you.”

12x19 – The Future: We find out Dean gave Cas a MIXTAPE!!! Very romantic and full of yearning, also worry and what could be seen as a betrayal (ish…).

12x23 – All Along the Watch Tower: Hands down, one of the most distressing Destiel episodes. Cas dies.

Season 13

13x01 – Lost and Found: This is the worst because you have Dean trying to assimilate Cas’ death. Core of Dean’s widow’s arc. Jack introduction, that’s their new kid.

13x02 – The Rising Son: Widow’s arc (you could skip it, but why would you?).

13x03 – Patience: Widow’s arc (you could skip it, but why would you?). Dean to Sam “He manipulated him, he made him promises, said, ‘paradise on earth’ and Cas bought it and you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t!”

13x04 – The Big Empty: Continuation of widow’s arc and Cas wakes up in the Empty. The Empty to Cas: "I know who you love. There's nothing for you back there." // Dean to Sam “I need you to keep the faith, for both of us. ‘Cause right now, I… Right now, I don’t believe in a damn thing.”

13x05 – Advanced Thanatology: Suicidal and hopeless Dean gets his win. Cas comes back. Gives me the chills.

13x06 – Tombstone: COWBOY BOYFRIENDS!

13x14 – Good Intentions: Happy and fun Destiel scene. So Very Married.

13x23 – Let The Good Times Roll: Season finale, Dean talks about retiring (plans include Cas of course) and just very nice to see them interact.

Season 14

14x03 – The Scar: Reunion.

14x08 – Byzantium: Deanand Cas dealing with their child’s death, then bringing him back by Cas making a deal with the Empty. IMPORTANT EPISODE.

14x09 – The Spear: Cas uses the royal We – married behavior.

14x10 – Nihilism: Dean is stuck in his own mind, and Cas and Sam try to bring him back. Cas “Please, you have to -- you have to try to remember, because the people in your life -- in your real life, out there -- we need you to come back.”

14x12 – Prophet and Loss: Dean gets his very own Dr. Sexy, aka Dr. Cas.

14x14 – Ouroboros: Basically another date (their kid tags along) and They TALK. Very intimate and established marriage vibes.

14x18 – Absence: Shits starts to go south. [ Dean: “Who cares what Jack said? We don't know what happened! But I swear, if he did something to her, if she is -- (points to Castiel) Then you're dead to me. (Castiel looks crushed after Dean says that).]

14x20 – Moriah: Tense and very upsetting. Relationship very damaged.

Season 15 (I would advise watching the entire season because it relies heavily on Destiel. They’re the heart and the emotional motor leading the plot onwards.)

15x01 – Back and To The Future: Deancas’ in the aftermath of their kid’s death. Tension gets worse.

15x02 – Raising Hell: Tension rises, this is very intense. Cas “Dean. You asked, "What about all of this is real?" We are.”

15x03 – The Rupture: Breaking point ends in divorce.

15x06 – Golden Time: Painful phone call which speaks volumes about the current state of their relationship at the time. Also, good to see where they’re standing and how they’re coping.

15x08 – Our Father Who Aren’t in Heaven: Strained relationship so obvious they’re offered couples’ therapy.

15x09 – The Trap: MASTERPIECE. Back to Purgatory. Can (and is) taken as Dean’s love confession (because it is).

15x12 – Galaxy Brain: So married. Little domestic date, you can see LOVE written in their faces.

15x13 – Destiny’s Child: AU!Dean and Sam. Not a yearning episode per se, but AU!Dean? SO GAY.

15x17 – Unity: God reveals that the only act of free will in any universe he ever created has been Cas choosing Dean.

15x18 – Despair: Cas confesses his love to Dean.

#Anonymous #thanks for coming to my ted talk #im posting this at 2:30 am so i'll most likely reblog it at a more reasonable hour ..in case anon is closer to my time zone #why am i even saying this..im sleepy #destiel #answered #destiel episode guide #there might be number/name mistakes because again sleepish.forgive me #long post

119 notes · View notes

actual-fucking-clown · 3 years

Note

hi blue!! i saw that you were looking for some nanami ideas and i’ve been thinking about what he’d be like moving into your guys’ first house together forever. ugh nanami brain rot hits different ✋😳

(you don’t have to write anything about this if you don’t want to, i just thought i would share lol <3)

Hello!!!! UGH yes immaculate thought! That’s a recipe for some tasty domestic Nanami shit right there and I’m screaming!!!!

I decided context before moving in would be nice too so have whatever this post is lol. Kinda hc kinda drabble??? who knows but whatever it is I hope you enjoy :)

It’s a big thing, buying a house with someone, so Nanami wants this to be absolutely perfect. We all know that if this man is buying a house it is his dream beach house in Malaysia. Man refuses to settle for anything else so if you’re not a fan of the idea then perish :)

Also you are not buying a house with him until he’s retired from the whole sorcerer gig, mans has his priorities and as if he’s settling for anything else. (He definitely retires rather early)

House hunting takes a while, he’s rather picky with how he thinks things should be but at the end of the day you were able to find something you both loved.

A picturesque remote medium sized beach house is what awaits you in Malaysia and the only thing this man is thinking/talking about as you two pack your things from your previous apartment. He’s so unbelievably excited to be moving and finally getting away from the hectic jujutsu world.

What he wants to do is spend he whole day unpacking. He has an entire schedule and what he wants the house to look like planned out. What you two end up doing is showing up, jet lagged as hell and napping (as per your request) until nightfall. The pair of you wake up and move some things around before you have to make the trek to the nearest town (which happened to be more like a city) and find something to eat. While out you do some quick grocery shopping and then head back home. On the way he makes a remark about getting a car.

That night you two can’t actually be bother to do much so you eat, move a few more things around before you quit for the night. The two of you share a bottle of champagne you had bought earlier while sprawled out on the living room floor and you talk about your future together.

That night you two sleep on your mattress on the floor.

You get to wake the next morning to a quaint beach paradise and and absolutely gorgeous man so, so far things are going great. Then he insists you spend the whole day doing nothing but unpacking. He’s 100% picky about where he wants everything to go. It’s not the most fun but you don’t mind. It’s far more domestic than you’re used to and a far cry from Nanami’s old life. Moving for him is a well deserved breath of fresh air and god is he glad he gets to do this with you.

You also only agreed to work practically non stop all day because he’d promised to make dinner that night and god I believe that that man is like a fucking Michelin star chef fight me.

At least now that everything’s all unpacked and in it’s proper place you can just relax.

TLDR: moving into your first house with this man is slightly a pain but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. 10/10

Hope you enjoyed and I hope you have a lovely morning/afternoon/night!!! :)

#Nanami x Reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk nanami

43 notes · View notes

woodchoc-magnum · 3 years

Text

L0ne St@r 2x12 Hate Watch

DO NOT REBLOG THIS ONE - thanks, I’m trying to fly under the radar with my negative opinions here

Usual disclaimer, and I mean it this time: If you watch and love this show, that’s great and I hope you continue to enjoy it. Please don’t read this - simply go about having a lovely day.

If you do love this show and T*rlos and are braving this anyway - do not come in here. I mean it. This is not a T*rlos friendly zone. I do not ship it. Please enjoy your ship in peace and harmony. I have no intention of getting into arguments with anyone, I will simply ignore you.

I have done everything I can to avoid this showing up in the tags, whatever the LS tags are. Don’t send me hate on anon because I’ll delete them; I don’t care if you think I should stop watching the show, I’m not gonna. I like to suffer.

Eddie Diaz for calm and strength and to centre ourselves:

Hate, as always, under the cut:

Let's do this fucking thing, I've heard bad things about this episode

And I already know I'm wrong about the arsonist which is ANNOYING but maybe also too obvious so that's okay, I also know who the arsonist is and all the main plot points but I’ve still got to watch it to really appreciate the subtle nuances of the episode:

Oooh Billy

I ship it

Billwen for the win

This show is so dumb

Billy is smarter than Owen, maybe he should be the captain of the 126

I miss his lightning scars though

He's TWO HOURS LATER FOR DINNER

TK is looking as bland as always

They seriously waited for two fucking hours for this guy

Maybe should've put some deodorant on before going to dinner there Owen

You know I can't imagine the OG doing a storyline as dumb as this

So Carlos' dad thinks it's someone who works at the 126 or just a firefighter in general?

Well gosh darn it, it looks like Owen fits that profile exactly!

At least we get some Judd early in the episode and I love him

Angela Bassett is executive producer on this show as well? I hope she gets paid cash money for this

Billy is the red herring and I fell right into their trap

I just really wanted it to be him

Ooh Grace was listening

Oh it's 100% the arson investigator and Billy is 100% turning Owen in, I love him

Billy is amazing

He's my favourite character on this show

I hope he's not working with Owen to get the arson investigator? I hope he's actually this devious

I want him to be THIS DEVIOUS

Why the fuck does Owen wear that hoodie everywhere

TK is now having a little bitch fit

"they can't do that, can they?" he asks in a monotone, his face blank and devoid of expression

TK's real real dumb

Oh ho ho is this the shoving scene

IT IS

God Ronen CANNOT ACT

Okay so while I think it is wildly unbelievable that they would send TK's boyfriend to tell him that his father had been arrested by HIS father – it seems like a conflict – I would like to say that Carlos is being calm and reasonable

And TK is acting like a little BITCH

This is escalating quickly

Oh TK you so dumb

THE SHOVING

Wow

FOUR TIMES

Wow

Your fave is problematic, yo

Carlos deserves better than this whiny little piece of shit

And now, an interlude while I rant:

Let's talk about how Eddie Diaz yelled at Buck once in a supermarket and the fandom has never forgotten it; how his character has been villainised despite everything else going on in the show at the time, for that one fucking scene – let's talk about all the fics where Eddie hits Buck, or punches him, or rapes him – because you know those fics exist – let's talk about the "Eddie is violent" narrative that parts of this fandom like to push because Eddie yelled at Buck, one time, once, in a supermarket

Totally ignoring the fact that at no point at all, in any other episode he’s been in, has he been violent towards Buck, at all - let’s talk about how the street fighting arc was out of character for Eddie, because he was struggling to cope and looking for an outlet - let’s talk about how Buck and Eddie moved past that whole storyline and strengthened their relationship; how they built a family together, how they’re a team and they have each other’s backs no matter what, and how, not once in the entire show, have they ever been violent towards each other or pushed each other around in anger - NOT ONCE.

And let's talk about this scene, where TK, ya boy, ya sweet tender boy, just shoved the man he says he loved four times, violently, in front of people at the firehouse.

I betcha any money he doesn’t get tarnished with the Eddie-Diaz-is-violent brush, because he can do no wrong. He’s the fan favourite, and this is totally glossed over by the end of the episode and nothing will ever be said about it ever again.

Because wow, you guys. Wow. If this was my ship, I’d be pissed.

Back to the hate watch:

And I know that whole fight is for nothing because I know the plot twist – I know that the dads are working together in order to reveal the real arsonist, the investigator – so they've basically turned their children, who are in a relationship, against each other?

Also why is Billy allowed to be watching the interview?

Goddamn do we really have to show the gruesome burn victim photos

I really want Billy to be devious by the way, and not in on the plan

Oh here comes TK, looking like the little bitch he is

God he's a fucking awful actor

This is the dumbest plotline ever

Equating OWEN STRAND WITH THOR? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

BLASPHEMY

THOR IS THE GOD OF THUNDER

OWEN IS A DUMBASS

THE TWO ARE NOT EQUAL

Uh oh here comes the evil investigator

Do either of these men – Owen and Carlos' dad – stop to consider that what they're doing has kind of an impact on their children, who are currently in a relationship? No? Okay

Because this is one hell of an awkward situation

Does Owen genuinely think that Billy is the arsonist?

Interesting that the arson investigator wants any info Owen didn't give Carlos' dad, and he turned off the cameras/mics etc

This show is stupid

Arson investigator also knows that the sons are dating, interesting

"And you can pound sand!" oooh great comeback Owen

This episode is so BORING OMG

Why the fuck am I watching a shitty Law & Order knock-off when I should be watching a bonkers 911 episode

Oh no Judd's at Billy's

I really do think Billy Burke is good looking and it is a flaw of mine, I don't know what it is about him and he really doesn't look that good in this show but I really love Billy Burke okay

And I WANT HIM TO BE DEVIOUS

Oh Judd

Oh Judd thinks Billy is the arsonist

See this is why YOU DON'T LIE TO THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU

Oh he punched him

God damn everyone is violent in this show

Judddddddddddddd

Uh oh here comes trouble to the "vagrant's" hospital room

Oh it's the arson investigator, their little bluff worked, incredible, amazing, flawless etc

Wow how amazing

It was the ol' switcheroo

Judd punched Billy for nothing

TK and Carlos nearly came to blows for nothing

Now Owen is allowed to watch the interrogation? They'll just let anyone watch those things these days

OH MAN ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT BILLY WAS IN ON IT WITH OWEN THE WHOLE TIME?

Damn it I wanted DEVIOUS god damn it

Fucking cowards

"I assumed it was probably a trap at the hospital which is why I went there anywhere"

But why is he lighting fires

A FEW MONTHS?

A man is dead

Pure theatre

So annoyed that Billy isn't devious

But the Billwen ship sails on, clowns 🤡

Do we think the arsonist has the hots for Owen? 100% yes, right?

He's very happy to see him wink wonk

This doesn't even feel like an episode of 911, it's so goddamn dumb

"I knew you had darkness in you too" – that dude definitely wants to fuck him

Why is he lighting the fires?

They're so dumb

"And now I'm going to repay the favour" – he's talking about YOUR SONS

WHO HE KNOWS ARE TOGETHER

Wow these two dumbasses really have no fucking idea do they

OH HE'S BURNING HIMSELF ALIVE

Wow this is graphic

What the fuck is up with this show and the horribly graphic scenes lately?

That dude is dead yo

"Take away everything that's important to me" AND HE CALLS THE FIREHOUSE FIRST

THE FIREHOUSE IS THE FIRST FUCKING CALL???

Oh okay it did blow up and TK was there so I'll allow it

But hey look on the bright side – Owen gets to remodel again!

And isn't that what he's the best at?

Yo your firehouse is on fire dudes, better call the fire department

Does Judd apologise to Billy or no

Oh here we have TK and Carlos and their perfect love

And Carlos is the one apologising?

No.

Please tell me no

Carlos you are allowed to be pissed at him – ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

"nobody has to apologise?"

YOUR BOYFRIEND PUSHED YOU AROUND

Oh my god

Wow

Okay.

Look I'm just saying that to me this would be a GIGANTIC RED FLAG but wtf do I know

I'm just saying because I have to – if Carlos was a woman and TK did that? Whole different story gang

Whole completely different mother-fucking story

This show, wow

Wow.

Wow. This is bad.

Domestic violence happens to men too, just saying.

Wow I'm so annoyed that I've paused it to type furiously and rant that wow, they're just not acknowledging that TK was totally out of line? Okay. Wow.

And everyone's just fine with it?

Oh they're just figuring out that he set more than one fire

Maybe there's something else you care about other than the firehouse, Owen

Maybe?

BILLY IS THE ONE WHO FIGURES IT OUT

See this is why Billy is the best

Oh no TK and Carlos are in danger

Oh it's so romantic isn't it? They're gonna fuck now that everything is okay

Wow he left a lot of bombs in Carlos' house

Damn Carlos is hot

No smoke alarms?

That fire has really taken ahold there guys

I'm gonna assume you do have smoke alarms and he disconnected them

Wow he really covered all bases didn't he

Put the bombs in the bedroom as well

RIP Carlos' nice house

"I love you too" after I violently shoved you around today

Oh who needs a fucking fire department when you've got Owen fucking Strand right?

"Carlos" he says flatly. "How are you doing?" he asks in a monotone

"I should've had an extinguisher in the bedroom" DUDE NO ONE DOES

And if TK wanted one in there, he's the fucking firefighter, he should've checked when he moved in instead of assuming like a dumbass

God this show is dumb as fuck and I hate it so much

Billwen for the win

"just a couple of crap magnets" fucking a-men Judd

This show sucks

Oh no TOMMY OH NO

WHAT'S HAPPENING

OH MY GOD

WHAT THE FUCK

What the fuck

Is he dead?

TAKE OWEN AND TK INSTEAD

I’m going to say one more thing about this T*rlos storyline - if they’d done this to Buck & Eddie in the OG, I’d be fucking devastated. Like... if Buck or Eddie pushed the other around the way TK pushed Carlos around, I’d be absolutely gutted. It’s really horrible that they went down that path - whether it’s OOC or not, and you can probably argue that it is - they shouldn’t have included the scene like that in the show.

It just raises a whole slew of questions, like... is TK violent? Is Carlos used to being pushed around in relationships? Is the show saying that it’s okay that they got a little physical because they’re both men? Domestic violence is never okay, and this is kind of... saying that it is, in certain circumstances?

That is problematic as fuck and such bad writing.

These two are in a relationship where they are living together and supposedly love each other, and this is how the writers choose to portray it? If you’re a T*rlos shipper and you’re upset about this episode, I get it. It’s really fucking terrible that they included that scene - and I would bet cold hard cash it’ll never be addressed again.

This is why LS is a bad show. It’s shitty writing. Shitty storylines. Characters who are interesting are shoved into the background and glossed over in favour of the male white characters. The OG doesn’t have this problem - for everyone complaining that Eddie hasn’t been featured as much this season (and yeah, I hate it too) - you can’t complain that the characters of colour don’t get equal screentime.

With LS - it’s the Rob Lowe show, and everyone else is just in the background. And that’s why it’s so frustrating to watch - they have a great cast, and this could be a really good show, but it’s just not.

Do you think the LS writers patted themselves on the back after this arc and were like, "yeah we nailed it, we're amazing?"

This episode is -1,000000/10. This show should be cancelled.

Two god awful miserable fucking episodes to go.

Diaz to cleanse:

#DO NOT REBLOG #lone star hate watch #enter at your own risk

25 notes · View notes

allsassnoclass · 3 years

Text

The Inherent Domesticity of Target’s Home Decor Section

Pairing: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood Rating: Teen Word Count: 2076 Read on AO3

Michael has mixed feelings about Target. On one hand, Target is better than Walmart, and he appreciates that they get to design different album covers and sell special editions there. On the other hand, walking into Target makes him feel like he should have his life together more. That’s not to say that his life is a disaster; his life is actually pretty great, and he feels like a fully functioning adult. However, the store still gives him the niggling feeling that he should buy a planner and some post-it notes and turn into a suburban mom.

“Do you think I should buy a planner?” he asks. Calum hums, reading the back of a DVD that’s on sale for $5. When he shifts to put it back on the shelf, Michael shifts right with him, arms around his stomach and cheek plastered against his shoulder. It’s earlier in the morning than Michael would like, so Calum gets the privilege of holding him up as punishment for dragging him out into the world at this time of day.

“Why do you need a planner? Ashton takes care of that stuff for the band,” Calum says. He picks up another DVD and flips it over.

“Yeah, but maybe I should put down everyone’s birthday or something,” he says. Calum snorts and Michael pinches his side, because he’s apologized for forgetting his birthday that one time sincerely and profusely and gave Calum a pretty spectacular blowjob to make up for it.

“Would you even use it?” Calum asks. Michael considers and has to concede his point.

They look at DVDs for a few more minutes because Calum gets a kick out of what a place like Target choses to stock in their meger selection. Michael lets him slip some animated thing he thinks he watched once as a kid into the basket, content to stand there while Calum takes his time and just breathe him in. He loves being close to Calum, letting his familiar smell fill his nostrils and leeching body heat. He lets their breathing sync up and imagines that he can hear his heartbeat, slow and steady and almost putting him to sleep standing up.

Nowhere feels like home quite like Calum does. Even in the middle of Target, Michael feels better than he ever has alone in his house. It makes him wonder why he’s even living alone, and why Calum pulled away and they stopped messing around when neither of them have girlfriends.

The bottom line is that he misses Calum nearly every moment they’re apart, but he doesn’t know how to articulate this without the crushing fear of rejection. Calum loves him, and he knows that a significant part of Calum’s world revolves around Michael, but that doesn’t mean they necessarily love each other in the same way. Michael wants grocery shopping and kisses and late night cuddles regardless of if they have somewhere to be in the morning and lazy sex and laughing at each other’s ridiculousness so hard that he can’t breathe. Calum wants a platonic best friend.

“What else do we still need to get?” Calum asks, shaking Michael out of his reverie.

“Toothpaste, I think. And vitamins.”

“Look at you, being healthy and shit.”

Michael pokes his side and Calum tries to wriggle away, giggling because Michael knows exactly which spot tickles the most.

“Just because I don’t let Ashton drag me to yoga like you do doesn’t mean I’m unhealthy. I get the most sleep out of any of us and I drink a fuckton of water.”

“I know, I know,” Calum says. “Want to check the CDs?”

It’s a distraction tactic, because Michael will always check the one-shelf CD selection, especially so soon after one of their own releases. Michael makes the conscious decision to allow himself to be distracted.

“Okay. CDs, then toothpaste, then vitamins, then I want to look at the home decor.”

“What do you want to look at the home decor for?”

Michael shrugs, knowing that Calum can feel it. There’s just no non-incriminating way to say I like to see your reactions and pretend that we’re picking out stuff for our house because I might be fully in love with you and I want you in every single crevice of my life.

That’s the issue with Target: it makes him feel domestic and long for things he can’t have.

“Excuse me?” a new voice says, and Michael first feels a twinge of annoyance at someone interrupting his moment and then a twinge of panic that it could be a fan when he definitely doesn’t have the emotional or physical energy to put on a public persona. One look at the owner of the voice dispels that notion. The woman is on the later side of middle-aged and looks pretty much exactly like the kind of woman who cooks meatloaf and has 3 cats and actually does go to Target to buy planners. As inclusive as the band tries to make their music, Michael can admit that she’s not exactly in their immediate wheelhouse for fans. Nevertheless, he straightens up a bit, but the woman is smiling so he thinks he can maybe get away with still locking his arms around Calum’s waist.

“Sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to say that you boys make such a cute couple! It’s so nice to see young people in love.”

Michael stiffens, but Calum puts a hand on his arm, effectively anchoring him in place before he can pull away.

“Thank you. It’s nice to be in love,” Calum says, and Michael’s breath stutters in his throat.

The woman beams and for a moment Michael thinks she’s going to reach out and pinch Calum’s cheeks, but she just bids them a good day and continues towards the books.

“CDs?” Calum asks, casual as anything. Michael nods and fully pulls away, not trusting himself to speak or to touch.

It was just a nice thing to say to a romantic woman, but it’s nice to be in love plays on repeat in his head like a broken record. He knows, he knows that it doesn’t mean anything, but Michael would give almost anything to have it be the truth.

There are five copies of the Target exclusive edition of CALM on the shelf. There’s also a Neil Diamond greatest hits collection and a few random soundtracks that Calum points out, but Michael can barely focus. He kind of wants to skip the toothpaste and go straight home, but he also doesn’t want Calum to question why that small interaction with the woman threw him so off kilter. By the time they make it through the checkout and back to Michael’s car, he feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin.

Calum waits until they’re out of the parking lot to start talking.

“I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable earlier. That wasn’t my intention. I just figured that was the easiest response. I know we’re not--I know we don’t do that anymore.”

In a different world where Michael hasn’t kept a very tight lid on his feelings for his best friend for the past eight years, he would have crashed the car.

“I know,” he says instead. Silence fills the space, heavy and uncomfortable. Michael keeps his eyes resolutely on the road and tries not to read too much into how Calum keeps taking a breath as if he wants to talk before cutting himself off.

“And I understand,” Calum says suddenly, almost causing Michael to swerve. “I understand why we’re not together anymore.”

“What,” Michael says.

“I’m not trying to get you back, or whatever. I know you don’t think of me like that.”

“That I don’t--” Michael chokes. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Come on, don’t make me say it,” Calum says, shifting in his seat.

“No, hang on. I don’t understand what you’re saying to me right now.”

“Mike, stop it. Now you’re just being mean.”

“Calum, you’re the one who pulled away from me. Personally, I don’t understand why we’re not together anymore. I didn’t even know that we were!”

“That’s bullshit! What did you think we were, if not together?”

“I don’t know, fucking around? I thought we stopped because you got bored of me.”

“Michael, we stopped because we got asked about ships in an interview and you got really weird about it.”

“Yeah, because I’ve been in love with you for half my life!”

Silence descends, and Michael absolutely cannot look at Calum right now. The only things that exist are the steering wheel in his grip and the strip of road in front of him. There’s still a good ten minutes until he reaches his house, and Michael is very content to spend those ten minutes pretending like he is alone and has not just revealed his biggest secret during an argument that he still doesn’t quite understand.

“Pull over.”

No such luck, apparently.

“Michael, pull over right now.”

He eases over and puts the car in park, letting his hands fall into his lap.

“You’re in love with me?” Calum asks. Michael nods. “We’re so stupid.”

“What?” Michael asks, finally looking over at Calum. He doesn’t look uncomfortable or sad, he looks exasperated. Michael isn’t sure what that’s supposed to mean.

“We’re idiots. We could’ve been happily dating this whole time. Hell, we probably could’ve been married by now,” Calum says. “I’m in love with you, too.”

Michael blinks at him and really wishes his brain was operating a bit faster.

“Calum,” he says, for lack of anything else.

“Michael,” Calum grins right back.

“Are you serious?” he asks. Calum rolls his eyes.

“Why would I joke about this?”

Michael shrugs helplessly.

“Michael,” Calum says seriously. “I made you park the car. We just had a conversation that obviously made you uncomfortable. Why the fuck would I be joking right now?”

Michael shrugs helplessly again.

“You love me?” he asks. Calum reaches over and grabs one of his hands.

“I’m head over heels, crazy in love with you. It’s pathetic. It’s ridiculous. I want to jump you in this car right now.”

Michael laughs.

“Not in broad daylight,” he says. Calum smiles in a way that makes something settle in Michael’s stomach, something that he hadn’t realized had been unsettled ever since they stopped seeing each other.

Fuck. He’s so lucky.

“I’m in love with you, too,” he says. Calum’s smile widens.

“I know,” he says. “You just told me that.”

“Well, I wanted to tell you again.”

“Well, I’m in love with you, too.”

They’re talking in circles now--wonderful, love-sick circles--and Michael is thankful for multiple reasons when Calum breaks it by leaning over the center console to kiss him. Calum’s lips are familiar under his, and even after months without feeling them Michael has them memorized. This kiss feels different, though. There’s a surety to it that they haven’t had before, a question and agreement that thrills him.

“You’re sure you don’t want to roll around in the back seat right now?” Calum asks softly when they part. Michael grins and knocks their foreheads together.

“You’re funny,” he says. “Ha, ha.”

Calum kisses him again. Michael could definitely get used to this. If their previous conversation is any indication, he’ll have plenty of time and opportunity to get used to this.

This time when the kiss breaks, Calum fully leans back rather than keep breathing his air.

“Okay,” he says. “Let’s go home, Michael. We’ve got years of a honeymoon phase to catch up on.”

Michael puts the car in drive and eases back onto the road. They’ll have time to drive around again later, because Michael definitely wants to do another circuit of the Target home decor section with this new revelation. Maybe he’ll try to find a card for the woman who confused them for a couple, just in case they happen to run into her by the post-it notes or planners.

Either way, Michael thinks that Target might be his favorite store now. He glances at Calum to find him already looking at him and his chest warms.

Yeah, Target is definitely his favorite store, but he’d be okay with never setting foot in it again if it meant he could keep spending time with his favorite person.

Thankfully, the way that Calum leans over to kiss him at a red light seems to mean that he agrees.

#my writing #malum #5sos fic #5sos fanfiction #i began this in may of 2020 so it's an alternate universe with no covid #can you believe it took me this long to finish lol #also i feel like this is an interesting way to see how my writing style has changed #this is very helen-influenced i think #the title for this in my google drive is t-t-t-t-TARGET

13 notes · View notes

exploding-carrots · 3 years

Text

I’ve been wanting to draw or write out my ‘future’ Bottom ideas for a while but haven’t gotten around to it. So here’s a long post of some head canons and a general story line of them vaguely developing as people at some point set after the live shows. If anything this is just sort of my personal AU for the characters getting together. Mostly focused on the progression of Richie and Eddies relationship and my thoughts on both of them being trans

- They’re both trans, (a lot of Ades characters give me trans dudes vibes but that is 70% me wanting to time travel and body swap w the man) Eddie is a bi trans dude (who medically transitioned young, but is not necessarily out as either) and Richie is a closeted/repressed bi trans woman who begins to come to terms w it during the whole island era

- Richie is also intersex, which while yeah is sort of canon in a mean way, is sort of important to me for the character 🤭 However she is not aware of the fact

- Eddie is dyslexic and has ADHD which both contribute to him struggling on and off (which was really just a gag they went with when funny) with reading/writing depending on how well he can focus on it at any given time (example: the Edies Bra sign vs the grave stone). I am not even going to attempt to say what is going on w Richie but the woman is a mess of unresolved issues and trauma complications

- After everything they go through in the live shows they do somehow make it back to the flat which is unexplainably the exact way they left it.

- Every single joke about Richie going off and fucking dudes from the live show is taken as fact. It is the most poorly kept secret amongst the cast. They literally do not talk about it unless Eddie is trying to make a point or piss off Richie

- Eventually Eddie IS trying to piss off Richie and does bring up everything about her sex life and the clothes, and... well everything else. After a ridiculous fight it somehow turns into an almost semi-serious conversation. Eddie makes the assumption that Richie is gay and Richie counters with the fact that she is genuinely interested in women but it’s a hell of a lot easier to get attention from specific types of men. Gets some wheels turning in both of their heads

- Personality wise they never really calm down, but they do start to slow down a little bit as it takes them longer and longer to recover from their fights. Obviously there is still the odd dart to the forehead or gentle push down the stairs but the ridiculous games and completions they make up take center stage

- they get weed at some point (Dave Hedgehog and Spudgun seems like a feasible source, because let’s be honest if Richie and Eddie tried to buy weed it would not work) that leads to all sorts of embarrassment because Eddie gets crossfaded as all get out and starts hitting on Richie. Which while having a precedent in their history (I mean, the first episode gives us that right away) takes on a new sort of meaning once the concept of bisexuality has been rolling around in their heads. Nothing particularly saucy happens at this point Bc they are high, drunk, and old but all of the actual acknowledgement of feelings start to really develop after this point

- in an attempt to do something with her time Richie picks up sewing and picks up where she left off with the wrap skirt and rubber underwear she made on the island. Starts to really develop the little wardrobe she wears when she’s alone. It’s a mix of the same awful button up shirts she always wears and some dresses and skirts along with a couple pairs of sexier (for Richie at least) under garments

- eventually Eddie comes home while Richie is still in her feminine clothing. Eddies Reaction is different from the first time he saw her dressed up that way since now there is a precedent. Eddies approach is much more “playful teasing” and fake surprise than it was previously.

- Slowly Richie starts dressing up around the flat more and more often as opposed to just when alone. Eddie ramps up with the pet names and husband/house wife dynamic they already had going on.

- THE MOMENT is when Eddie is leaving the flat to go to the bar and there is an ‘accidental’ kiss on the cheek along with his usual good byes. Eddie realizes what has happened immediately and bolts before Richie can say anything. Richie has a moment of “teehee that was nice” still in her little fucking house wife head space before it catches up w her.

- Richie panics, paces around the flat, gets changed like 8 times, cooks dinner, throws it away, takes it out of the trash, paces more, breaks like 8 things, and essentially just fluctuates between “Ooo Eddie fancies me” to “oh fuck the bastard is making fun of me again” to “it was an accident and Eddie is going to make it into a fight” back to “ooo Eddie fancies Me~”

- eventually Eddie comes home, pissed to hell and back way later than he’d normally come home. Richies passed out on the couch. Eddie wakes her up by pushing her over on the couch so he can sit. Eddie says something along the lines of “I’m fucking drunk so I’m only going to say this one” before saying some incomprehensible drunken rambling and pulling Richie into an awkward full kiss. It’s a nice moment for maybe about 5 seconds before he stands up again, pulls a pint out of his jacket, chugs it and says something about drunkenly passing out before doing just that across the coffee table.

- Richie just sort of gawks at Eddie sleeping across the table before giddily tossing a blanket over him and heading off to actually go to bed.

- relationship wise this really just sort of introduces a sexual/physical dynamic to their relation while ramping up their camp version of domestic life

- it’s Spudgun and Dave Hedgehog who actually say something to Eddie about it. They’ve always been in on the “oh look, it’s Eddies terrifying wife” thing. Probably only actually say something about it after the 2nd or 3rd actual display of physical affection they witness. It’s more of one of them asking Eddie if Richie really is his wife (in that half aware sort of way they observe things). This alone doesn’t change much, but it does takes a lot to get through to any of these repressed bastards

- Richie grows accustomed to the more feminine/soft pet names that Eddie uses for her. At one point Eddie uses more traditionally masculine terms which sets off “oh actually I am not a fan of that” in Richies head and leads her to asking Eddie to not refer to her that way. Leads to an awkward half coming out on Richies part. Eddie does genuinely switch up how he refers to Richie at this point and her gender just sort of becomes an silent fact that they both respect. Everyone else sort of knows them as those weirdos who have some sort of common law marriage going on and it’s not really questioned. This is the point where Richie starts to earnestly medically transition without really saying to much about, canonically she has been on estrogen pills before (even if it was a ‘mistake’)

- End game is essentially just them being casual about their identities and relationships in a unspoken sort of “well that’s just how it is” way that naturally sort of bleeds into a the other aspects of their lives.

- Additional note on Eddie being trans: Richie is already vaguely aware of this fact Bc obviously they’ve been seen what the other is working with at one point or another but the fact that she is unaware that she herself is intersex and has a skewed sort of idea about genitals and peoples bodies Richie genuinely does not think about it all too much. Eddie assumes that she knows, especially as they get older and casually refers to being trans (in my mind probably during the entire “Edwina” disguise thing. I imagine Eddie wearing the dress came down to the clothing size and some off hand comment about him “having experience”, which is total shit Bc even before he transitioned Eddie never presented that way). That’s probably around the point that things start to click in Richies head about Eddies identity and she starts comparing and contrasting Eddie to other ppl and such.

#drug and alcohol mention #bbc bottom #bottom bbc #headcanons #the gay section #well in this case more of the t4t bi section

21 notes · View notes

caiuscassiuss · 5 years

Text

Homecoming (M)

Pairing: NCT Johnny ♡ Female!Reader

Description: When a high school reunion drags you back from the bustling city to your hometown, you can’t help but feel inadequate compared your friends’ settled lives, who have thing you want most— kids. You may get your most desperate wish when your long-lost best friend sweeps into town, not quite the introverted nerd he was from 10 years ago.

Genre: high school reunion au smut | romance WC: 16k Warnings: graphic smut (Dom! Johnny + Sub! Reader, dirty talk, !!!pregnancy kink!!!, unprotected sex, oral sex, rough sex, bulge kink, slight exhibitionism, footsie, slight cum eating, overstimulation), mentions of adultery

(A/N: I’m dedicating this fic to my bestie, my Ten to my Taeyong, my vanilla bean to my weird kinky shit: @kookyong. Thank you so much for supporting me through the creation of this fic and cheering me on when I felt down. Also, fuck you, you stole my idea of dedication before I even told you. Also, a huge thanks to @lovingyong for beta-ing a part of this story and providing such great feedback! I’d also like to thank @galaxybeeji and @aveluant1a for helping me translate some Korean.)

Also, please don’t have unprotected sex and stay safe.

A sigh leaves your lips as you sip at your beer, basking in the electronic light of your phone in the dim, crowded bar. You started reaching over for another fry in the basket, but as you looked up from your phone you noticed there was less than a fourth of the fries remaining.

Apparently, you were steadily but surely devouring the fry basket no one had touched.

Truly, you had no idea why you were here, sitting alone in a dark booth, watching your co-workers slowly lose their inhibitions as the night went on. The little get together your coworkers made took over the whole bar, filling it with laughter and yells all around.

You scrolled through more pictures of your friends’ perfect family lives, each photo of a white-picket house they were moving into or the welcoming their new child slowly piled weight onto your chest. While you have never been claustrophobic, you felt the walls and the people of this little dingy bar on 43rd street close in on you like a vice.

Scooting out of the booth, you stayed to the sides of the crowded room while attempting to navigate groups of tipsy adults. You inwardly cringed of how much you stood out, a dark spot staining the convivial atmosphere.

“Y/N?”

You whipped around wide-eyed to see Sara standing behind you, a slight sloppy smile plastered to her face as your middle-aged co-workers stared at her unabashedly. Young, beautiful, vivacious— Sara was the office catch, in her red slip and heels. She was dressed to kill.

“Hey! Sara,” you said awkwardly, twiddling with the flap of your purse. Even standing in your best slinky dress in front of her, you felt like a washed out, pale imitation of her.

“Where are you off to? The party just started!” she giggled, the shimmery sequins of her dress sparkling along with her smile.

You quickly tried to formulate a valid excuse. “I actually—”

A loud ring came from your cell phone, vibrating against your thigh.

“I just need to step out real quick to answer this call,” you smiled softly, hoping to convey you needed to take this urgent call as quickly as possible.

“Well, okay,” she pouted. You motioned to step out but a soft hand on your arm stopped you.

Turning back to Sara, she looked unusually serious as she gripped your arm slightly.

“Y/N, have some fun here, alright? You work so hard, you deserve a night out. Especially since you’re all alone-”

What you hoped was a smile was plastered to your face as you shook yourself out of her grip, your small “thanks” murmured into a loud bar unheard as you stepped out.

“Cynthia?” you asked into the phone, sitting on a chair on the terrace.

“Y/N! Oh my god, girl, how are you?” your high school friend squealed into the phone.

Wondering how she could be awake at this time as a new mom, you quickly realized she was a few hours behind New York time.

“Hey yourself, I’m doing well. How about you?” you asked softly.

“I’m doing well! I just had to tell you about Ryland! Our new son, remember? So-”

As she gushed over the first words of her newborn baby, you hummed and agreed at the appropriate moments. You marveled at how much she had changed since your high school days. This was a big difference from the wild girl from high school you knew, the girl with sharp cheekbones with an even sharper wit. Now, in her profile pictures she was rounded and aglow from the joys of motherhood. Your hand slowly rose to meet where your eye and cheekbone met, feeling the flesh that lay there. You had no laugh lines.

“-invitation?”

“Huh?” you asked, shaking out of your stupor.

Cynthia huffed. “Sily, I said did you get my invite on Facebook?”

“No,” you said plainly. You were lying, of course. You had seen the invite, but you scrolled past without even looking at the title.

A groan resounded from the phone. “Y/N, what am I supposed to do with you? God, it’s an invite to our high school reunion!”

Immediately, you wanted to say no. Like, hell no, but you thankfully held your tongue.

“Oh, really? That’s great, Cynthia, but I’m afraid I can’t go—”

“Wait! I haven’t even mentioned the date! It’s a few weeks from now, and you just have to go! Everyone does!”

Truthfully, you had no desire to go back to your old town and see your friends’ perfect families and their perfect kids, their perfect domestic lives. Your high school reunion was always popular with alumni as an event to flaunt how much they were making, how gorgeous their significant other was, how adorable their kids were. It was all one big clusterfuck of gossip and arrogance— not endearing at the slightest.

“Everyone misses you, Y/N. I know I do.”

“I miss you too but I don’t know, I’m really busy with work—”

“Shut up, Y/N. You’re just using that as an excuse since you’re too scared to face everyone.”

Ah, there’s her sharp riposte. Her wit had not dulled with her age, it seems.

“Cynthia—” you stuttered, unable to reply to her retort.

“You bet your ass I will fly out to New York, find you in that concrete jungle then drag you back to attend this goddamn reunion.”

“...I’ll see,” you relented.

“Great! So—” a baby’s cry resounded in the background. “Oh my gosh, I have to go to Ryland now! I’ll text you the details later, bye bye!”

The dark screen of your phone stared back at you as she hung up on you. You could only pray to some higher being this reunion wouldn’t turn out badly.

The skyline of your hometown was unfamiliar to you.

There were a few shadows added, maybe some missing, maybe not. It is not the familiar curves and dips you always used to see when you glanced out your bedroom window.

Even passing through the main part of the town itself, it was so surreal. There were so many new buildings of glass and concrete that juxtaposed the old timey feel of the main street. New signs, new roads, new people passed by you in your Lyft ride.

You had to stop yourself from wondering over the town when you saw your breath fog up the windshield and you hastily jerked back. You hoped the driver didn’t see you looking like an excited 8 year old.

As the car slowly turned into your parent’s neighborhood, a wave of pure nostalgia hit you like a truck. As your eyes traced over the familiar houses on your street, a whole flood of innocent, child-like memories came back to you. All the times playing ball in the street with your neighbor, or even waiting nervously at the bus stop for the first day of school— long forgotten things from your past rose up.

Memories of tanned skin and wide smiles filled your memory, and you felt a pang with in your heart.

Johnny Suh.

“Uhm, ma’am? We’re here?”

You were shaken out of your memories but the sound of the Lyft driver looking at you nervously through his rearview window.

“Oh, sorry sir! Thank you for the ride.”

Your two heavy suitcases rolled behind you as you strolled through your parents’ large driveway, and your heart started to beat nervously as you saw the front door slowly getting larger.

Hands trembling, you rung the doorbell and stared into the cloudy glass.

You heard flurry of footsteps pitter patter to the front, and you thought you were prepared when your mother opened front door, but turns out you weren’t.

“Y/N?”

Your mother looked as beautiful as ever, the crow lines underneath her eyes and the wisps of grey in her hair looking gorgeous. You haven’t seen her in years, and you could feel a gathering of tears in your waterline.

“Mommy,” you said, choking up a bit towards the end.

“My darling girl? My sweetheart? You’re here?”

“Yes, mom.”

“Y/D/N, come! Y/N is back!”

As your dad came tearing down the hall and his eyes focused on you, you saw his old eyes brighten and fill up with tears.

“My little turtle?”

“Hi daddy!” you smile weakly, giving a little wave.

“Come and give your dad a hug! I haven’t seen you in so long!”

As you rested in the embrace of your mother and father, you thought that maybe coming home wasn’t so bad at all.

The afternoon sun beat down upon your bare shoulders, your wide-brimmed boater hat offering no respite.

You could only drink your ice-cold lemonade in hopes of cooling down and not feeling like a sweaty rat, fanning yourself with a menu and looking over the balcony.

“—and Ryland goes “I wanna pear, mommy!” and then Callie says ,”Ryland, that’s a potato.” It was a mango!”

Cynthia cracked up laughing, and you let out a few peals of laughter so as to not seem awkward. Every time Cynthia mentioned her darling kids, a burning jealousy gripped your heart until you could only see green. You truly wish you could enjoy your friends’ stories about how her kids could say the darndest things, but it only increased your yearning for kids tenfold.

“Well, enough about my life. How’s your job in the Big Apple? You’re one of those white collar types now, aren’t you?”

You sipped at the lemonade, wishing it was something much stronger. Your eyes swept over her appearance; the Facebook pictures were wrong, she was much more radiant in person. “You could say that, I guess. I travel a lot, though I’m only in New York half of the year. Usually I end up in the UK or Beijing. My work is very good to me.”

Cynthia sighed in faux envy, her hand resting over her swollen breasts from pregnancy. “You’re so cool, Y/N. It must be so fun traveling all over the world and seeing all these new things, tasting all the great food!”

You thought back to your large, empty apartment overlooking the Greenway that felt more like a showroom.The film of dust your housekeeper had to clean. The vacant adjacent plane seats. The uncomfortable fact you never had someone to go home to.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

After a few minutes of light hearted chat, your straw was sucking at your almost empty glass. God, you needed to pee.

“Sorry, Cy. I gotta go to the restroom for a minute, un momento!”

After relieving yourself, you stepped out of the restroom only to walk face first into a well-built chest. As much as you wanted to press your whole body onto his delicious one, it wasn’t exactly societally acceptable to be seen rubbing yourself against a stranger like a dog in the heat.

You (unfortunately) moved back, apologizing profusely. “I am so sorry, are you alrig...”

The last syllables left your mouth at the pace of molasses at your shock of seeing this god of a man in front of you. Tall, broad shouldered, with hidden muscles flexing under his casual white oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his veiny forearms.

And his face. His face was like sin, chiseled as hell with pouty lips and sharp eyes. But as your gaze roamed over his features, you saw the scar near his lips that was barely visible. Only one person you knew had that unique scar, in its unique placement. He got it from accidentally knocking his trumpet too hard into his lips in sophomore year.

“Johnny?!” you gasped.

His face brightened up for a second, a brilliant gleam to his eyes until it went away in a flash.

“Y/N.”

His dark, tenor tone raised gooseflesh along your bare arms and shoulders. This was definitely not the Johnny you knew so well from high school.

After a moment of awkward silence (he didn’t look inclined to embrace you in a hug or even speak), and you spoke up. “Um, it’s great to see you. You look good.”

“Thanks, you too,” he said shortly.

A slight crease formed on your brow as you frowned lightly, not used to his coldness. If this were the Johnny you knew in high school, he would’ve wrapped you in a big bear hug with his long, lanky limbs flailing. He looked like he grew into those limbs.

“Well, do you have time to catch up? I haven’t seen you in a decade,” you breathed out.

He pursed his lips for a moment. “Sorry, I’m afraid I can’t. I’m only here because I’m meeting an old investor.”

It was only then you noticed his fancy watch and his shined Weston shoes, along with the dark leather briefcase he had in his hand. He looked like a Wall Street shark.

You were sure your face fell for a second, since he frowned minutely, until you felt a mask of pity snap into place. “That’s a shame. Well, have fun with your investor. See you… sometime.”

You bravely moved to pat his arm, and his face did not change even when you passed by him. You felt his intense gaze upon your retreating figure and until you were sure he couldn’t see you, sprinted through the crowded cafe to your balcony table with Cynthia.

“God, what took you so long?” she complained. “Our food already arrived.”

“Did you know Johnny Suh was in town?! I just ran into him!” you fake whispered.

Her brows lifted in surprise. “No? I didn’t see him on the Facebook guest list—”

You quickly pulled out your phone and opened the invite list. There, in dark navy font, was Johnny Suh.

“He was your best friend, right? The nerdy band kid you was always with?”

You felt the edges of your mouth pull down. “Hey, he’s not like that. He was a great and friendly guy! But I haven’t seen him in forever.”

“Well, how is he?”

“I-He looked like a damn god, Cynthia. He’s so different from high school. I couldn’t even recognize him,” you breathed out.

Her eyebrows only climbed higher in surprise. “Well, I’ll be. Was not expecting that.”

You snorted. “No one was, even his fucking best friend of 4 years didn’t.”

Cynthia took a bite of her salad, a look of contemplation upon her rounded features.

“Something wrong, Y/N?”

You hugged yourself and looked away. “Well, when I say he’s not like from before, he really isn’t. I wasn’t expecting him to be this cold.”

This really wasn’t a situation you wanted to be in. At all.

Sitting here in a pretty, floral sundress, sitting on a park bench in the midst of all your former classmates chatting with decked out strollers parked beside them.

You tried your best to not feel uncomfortable, as Cynthia looked like she was enjoying herself, but this was simply not your speed. You’d never expected Cynthia to be friends with the popular kids at school in the future, but look where she was now. Chattering and giggling with the rest of them.

Your discomfort was only enforced by how different you looked from everybody, how Cynthia’s PTA mom friends were dressed like they were about to go to play tennis. They knew each other well and could giggle and gossip, but you were in your own isolated world.

Last, but not least:

They all had children.

You stared enviously at the little angels ran around the playground, screaming and cavorting about. Some stumbled on their legs, new to the concept to walking, but some sat quite passively staring out in space. Reluctantly, a smile crept upon your face as a group of little ones played tag. They ran, weaving in and out between children and playground equipment. Your eyes followed a darling girl dressed in red, with her cheeks flushed in excitement as she zoomed around but then--wham!-- slammed into a playground pole.

A gasp escaped your mouth and you almost stood up to go to her, until a tired groan resounded from across from you as a tanned blonde lazily got up to attend to her child. Then, you were bitterly reminded that, no, that was not your beautiful child.

“Oh my, poor Kayla, that little darling is always getting hurt! Bless her poor heart!” a woman (Kendall, maybe?) dressed in neon pink cooed her concern.

You could only sulk in pathetic silence as you deliberately excluded yourself from the conversation, too uncomfortable and upset to truly feel at place. Hell, it wasn’t just because you were clearly an outsider, it was the way this group of women treated people they thought lower them. Sudden memories came to you of Johnny’s crooked smile fading as he realized they never thought of him as a friend. How his friendly, warm personality was used against him as he helped them with their homework but was never truly thought as “in”. He cried so much that night.

“-you nowadays, Y/N?”

You whipped your head back around to see one of the nicer women, Katie, smiling at you as the whole group focused on your angered face.

“I’m sorry, come again? I’m afraid I was distracted.”

She laughed. “No problemo, sweetie. I just said ‘How are you?’ What’s going on in your life?”

A tight smile spread across your mouth. “I’m doing well right now. I work in New York as a private manager for J.P. Morgan,” you said politely, steeling yourself for the onslaught of questions.

“Ooh, so do you get paid well? Do you travel a lot?” someone butt in. You turned to see it was that one noisy theater kid (Anna?) and you decided to answer politely.

You tittered out a delicate laugh, the type you emit when you have to play nice with a client. You turn a modest smile Anna’s way. “I get by comfortably, and yes, I’m usually out of the country until someone here,” you side-eyed Cynthia, who waved cheerfully, “convinced me to come back for the reunion.”

Noises of approval came from the group, and they continued to ask polite questions until one sugary sweet drawl slithered in.

“Well, you sound so accomplished! This is all so amazing,” the tanned, voluptuous brunette 2 seats down from you piped up. “But, do you have anyone to share it with? Any hotshot hubby? Darling kids?”

You gritted your teeth, “No, unfortunately my job hasn’t allowed me to have much personal time.”

The other part of group turned away, wandering into other conversations and leaving the two of you relatively alone. She gasped dramatically, showing her immaculate gel manicure. “Are you even of the female kind?!” she playfully joked, but you could hear the undertone of smugness beneath.

Oh. Now you remember.

Victoria Edwards, that little bitch from the church group that always seemed to hate you. You had no idea what was her problem, especially since your parents had long been friendly with hers. Perhaps it was the fact you were amiable with everyone while many were tired of her spoiled attitude. Nevertheless, every chance she had to spite you or make things uncomfortable, she took it. Victoria did it with such calculated anger, you wondered what you ever did wrong to her. You never found out; she just had it out for you.

You shrugged modestly, careful to hide your trembling fingers in the folds of your dress lest you reach out a put her in a chokehold.

“But don’t you want kids? Who’s going to take care of you when you get older?” she continued, a look of faux pity on her heart-shaped face.

She just can’t stop, huh?

“Perhaps if everything slows down,” you replied carefully.

“Your eggs are going to get cold if you wait too long! I’ve heard those new fangled procedures for older women are very risky with a low chance of—”

“Thank you for the advice, Victoria. You seem very well-read on it— since your husband is always busy, you know— and you sound like you have some good experience under your belt. I’ll come to you for any help.”

You send a charming smile her way, and slowly rise up from your comfortable perch. Waving a goodbye Cynthia’s way, you continue to depart.

You refrain from sashaying away.

Wandering through the paths of your town’s best park, you reveled in the feeling of truly being in nature for the first time in over a decade. New York had Central, sure, but your town’s really immersed you in the outdoors without sky-scraping structures looming threateningly over you.

Closing your eyes to feel the radiant sunshine on your skin, you were startled when a little girl’s cry broke the peaceful silence of the area. It sounded muffled, but not too far away from where you were from.

“Hello? Sweetie, where are you?”

The cries only grew louder, and your footsteps only grew more frantic as you searched through the undergrowth.

“Hold, I’m coming to get you—”

You burst into a secluded part of the path and see a familiar little girl in a yellow jumpsuit bawling her eyes. You spotted a blotch of red and brown on her pale elbow and you practically ran to her shaking figure.

“Oh, poor sweetie, are you okay?”

She pulled her head out from her knees and cautiously stared at you, her cries dying down. You recognize her immediately. She was Cynthia’s snarky little 5 years old, Callie.

“I want M-mommy,” she pouted, rubbing her eyes so adorably you couldn’t help but melt.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry it’s Aunt Y/N,” you smiled kindly at her.

“A-Auntie?” she sniffled.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

She put her arms up and you obliged, careful not to jostle her wound too badly.

“Let’s go to Mommy, alright? It’s gonna be A-Okay.”

She buried your face in your neck, her soft puffs of hair brushing your cheek and you almost melted right there on the spot.

“You wanna tell me what happened, baby?” you asked, taking a fast past towards the trail path.

“I twipped on somethin’,” she mumbled.

“I’m so sorry sweet girl, how much does it hurt?”

“Vewy bad.”

“Oh dear,” you whispered.

As soon as you saw a small shed that had a red cross over it, you quickly made your way on over. Sitting her on the counter gently, you smiled your best smile.

“Auntie’s gonna get you all cleaned up, okay?”

She nodded, and you took that as consent when you reached for a first aid kit. You immediately cringed, knowing the first step was going to be painful for both of you.

“Baby, to get rid of the red and black, I’m gonna have to clean it. It might sting a bit so can you a strong girl for me?”

You saw her stubbornness Cynthia frequently complained about, as she jutted out her lip and nodded resolutely.

Getting out the alcohol and pads, you gave her a warning as you lightly pressed, She made a noise of discomfort, and your head snapped up to see if she was any pain.

“Callie?”

“I-I’m fine, Auntie,” she mumbled firmly.

Pinching her cheek playfully, you continued to disinfect the wound to reveal a light scrape on the skin of her elbow. Wrapping it up nice and tight, you patted her thigh.

“All done, baby,” you smiled. “Good job,” you pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Is she yours?”

You let out a little scream as you dropped the cotton pads. You snapped your head to see Johnny Suh in a sleeveless tank and jogging shorts, a light sheen to his muscles from his work out.

He has one fit bod, a part of you whispered. The veins in his toned forearms, his fit calves, the hint of his strong chest in his tank—

There was a child next to you, for god’s sake!

Callie was laughing next to you, all her pain forgotten. Recovering from your shock, you rolled your eyes and playfully booped her on the nose, causing her to swat at it playfully.

“You silly little goose,” you chastized. She giggled even more, a beautiful smile split on her face.

A cough resounded from behind you and you remembered Johnny fucking Suh was behind you in the hottest workout gear you’ve ever seen and you blanched.

“So?” he raised an eyebrow, nodding towards Callie.

“Nope, this little sweetheart is Cynthia’s,” you said, squeezing Callie closer.

“Oh,” he merely said. You thought you detected a glimpse of relief on his face, before he moved it to that impassive mask.

His sharp eyes zoomed in on the bandage at her elbow and he frowned. “What happened? Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine, just a minor trip,” you soothed, picking up Callie from the counter.

“Auntie, who is that?” she inconspicuously whispered, causing you to muffle your laughter against her head. Johnny had a slightly amused grin on his face.

“That’s Mr. Johnny. He’s an old… friend of mine,” you informed her, shifting her on your hip.

“Hi Mr. Johnny! I’m Callie and I’m 6 years old!” Callie brightly smiled, holding up 5 fingers.

“Sweetie, you need one more finger to make six,” you giggled, as you uncurled another finger on her other palm to make six.

Johnny let out a chuckle and bent down to eye level with the child in your arms. “Hiya kid. You can call me Johnny.”

“How old are you Mister Johnny? You look… like… very old!,” Callie flails her arms, unable to properly express the number.

A small smile graced his face, a glow in his eyes as he looked at the small child in your arms. His face wasn’t the one you saw in the cafe. “Not quite, baby. I’m the same age as your mommy.”

Callie continued to entertain Johnny as the three of you walked down the path, towards where her mom was sitting. Eventually, the adrenaline of the whole experience of getting hurt and meeting someone new wore off, and she slept soundly on your shoulder.

An awkward silence permeated between you and Johnny, as you busied yourself with the scenery you had seen hundreds of times while he regressed to his cold persona. His presence next to you was too close yet too far, and you could feel how tense you were walking next to him. Sometimes, his arm would brush against your shoulder and it ignited a series of nerves you haven’t felt in years. It was like there was a furnace flowing underneath your skin. You curled Callie in your arms a bit tighter to stave off whatever he was doing to you.

You felt Callie rustle a bit and you knew that if she woke up, she would be extremely grumpy so you hummed lightly, bouncing her up and down in your arms while patting her back lightly. So focused you were in your task, the undecipherable look in Johnny’s eyes went unnoticed.

“How have you been?,” Johnny spoke, his low voice still so unfamiliar to your ears.

Your head snapped up toward his, him now towering over you when you had once been his height. His black hair lay across his eyes, his amber eyes intensely focused at you.

“I’ve been alright. Good,” you mumbled.

Another lengthy period of silence stretched between you.

“...I heard you were snatched up by J.P. Morgan when you graduated. That’s a good company,” Johnny said.

“Yeah, I’m now a private manager there. They’ve— the company—has been very good to me over these years,” you smiled slightly. It was true, the company had treated you well and given you a career, but you were still so...lonely.

“You look like you’re doing well for yourself.”

“....yes.” Silence. “You too— you look like you’re doing well.”

“I’d like to think so. I-, uhm, I’m the CEO of an online banking company— Banksy, have you heard of it?”

You were embarrassed to admit you gaped at him for a solid minute. Banksy? It was one of the trendiest e-businesses that had grown exponentially when the tech boom hit the market. The small start-up crested the wave until it had become a blue-chip name on the stock exchange. You even had an account with them!

“I-I have. I even have an account with them— you. Wow, Johnny, congratulations, that’s honestly amazing,” you smiled brightly at him, really and truly proud of your high school best friend doing so well for himself— no matter how cold he was to you.

A reluctant smile crawled over his plump lips, and you realize how much you had missed him. Yes, he was your best friend in every sense the word meant. He had been there and celebrated when you made it onto the softball team, offered you his hoodie when your period had come out of nowhere, even been there when you had gotten into an accident, senior year.

He had gotten there first. Not the police, not your parents— him, in his stupid Naruto pajamas, pulling up in his shitty 2001 Honda Accord and bawling his eyes out.

You hadn’t realized how much you relied upon him until you moved to college in another state, totally lost and confused without your best friend. Regret had always been an emotion associated with his name. You wished you had kept in contact with him, and even more so regretted you hadn’t ever truly revealed your...

“Thank you, Y/N.”

He opened up his mouth to say something, then immediately opened it again, but then paused. He looked like he was having a conflict within himself, but he shook his head and stared directly at you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I couldn’t really talk to you that day with met at the cafe. It was a bit… rude in hindsight.”

You blinked in shock, mouth slightly ajar as you stumbled on the path.

“O-Oh, that? Don’t worry about it— I get it, we’re all so busy nowadays,” you offered a weak smile.

“No, I’m in the wrong here. We were… we were best friends for years, I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

His brows furrowed, you notice how much he has matured. Not just in his looks and the way he presented himself, it was the way he treated you. Don’t get it wrong (he was a sweetheart during high school), but he seemed more sure of himself, more able to take responsibility and address conflict. He had always had kind of avoided confrontation, the one part you hated of him you hated during high school, and would always just kind of awkwardly wait for any conflict to pass by and ignore it. He was so much Johnny, but so much less.

“Hey, it’s alright. We were both just not used to each other, y’know? You were probably stressed out at the time and took it out on me. There’s no need to get in a tizzy over that.”

“It’s just I haven’t seen you in years and I treated you like that—”

“Youngho.”

His Korean name sort of forced itself out of your mouth, hiding in the back of your throat all these years and finally popping back up when the man himself did. No one really knew of his other name other than his sweet mother and you, since your white-ass town would’ve butchered it until the point of disfiguration. Hearing you say it had always calmed him down.

“...fine,” he pouted. Maybe, just maybe, you saw bits of the old Johnny peek through the new mask, new body of his. “Man, I just feel terrible about it, though. It hasn’t left my mind in days.”

“Why don’t you make it up to me by getting a coffee with me sometime? I.. I’d love to catch up, Johnny. I’d really, really like to.”

His dark eyes met yours and yours widened.

“I’d love to.”

By the time your unlikely trio reached the PTA moms plus Cynthia, it was already late afternoon. The sun had turned golden, the kids were getting tired, and the music from your town’s main street could be faintly heard.

“Y/N? Y/N?! Have you seen—” Cynthia called out frantically, waving her cell phone around but paused when she saw her child in your arms.

“Oh my god, Callie! Sweetheart!”

She sprinted across the sidewalk to immediately take the sleepy child from your tired arms. You could see the sunlight glint off her sweaty face, her unkempt hair frizzing out of her bun while she rocked Callie in her arms.

A slight grin graced your face as you tilted your head and took in the sweet mother-daughter moment. Unbeknownst to you, the man beside you had the same expression on as well, his hands itching to pull you closer.

“Cynthia? Sweetheart, did you find Callie?” someone shouted from the side.

A flock of moms headed towards your general direction, all carrying their kids with them and hoisting their heavy bags. As soon as they reached you, their eyes had wandered from Cynthia and zoomed in on the delectable piece of man next to you. You remembered how he looked with his toned and veiny arms on display in his loose tank, how good he looked with his hair windblown and disheveled and you inwardly smacked your head. He was basically bait for middle-aged women.

“Y/N, who is this? Would you care to introduce us?” the woman you thought was Kendall cocked out her hip, her eyes still fixated on Johnny.

“This is—”

“Am I late to the party? Well, thank god we found Ca— oh, who is this?”

Everyone’s favorite girl Victoria sauntered into your midst, her rambunctious kids following behind her.

You gave a tight smile. “Ladies, do you remember Johnny Suh from high school? This is him.”

The women present smiled brightly but did not seem to remember his name.

“I’m so sorry, I can’t seem to recall you from back then,” Victoria smiled apologetically. Your eyes zoomed in on the subtle movements she displayed— the slight stroking of her bare arms, the hooded lids— and you rolled your eyes.

“Hold on, weren’t you a trumpet in marching band? Vice president of the Anime Club?” Anne popped out, the glint of recognition in her eyes,

Johnny chuckles and shifted his weight. “Yeah, that was me,” he said, with a sort of secretive smile on his lips.

You watched with smug satisfaction as the ladies’ eyes collectively widened in disbelief, Victoria even going stiff for a moment before recovering. The boy they had excluded, used, looked down on, had grown into this man next to you.

“W-well, I’ll be! You’ve changed so much from back then,” Kendall (still unsure who the hell she is) grinned.

“You could say that,” Johnny smirked before pushing his hair out of his face, everyone’s eyes following his toned arms flexing.

Karma is so sweet.

“Y/N, mom threatened to decapitate me if I didn’t invite you to dinner. Could you come over?”

Always the momma’s boy.

“You want to save this sexy face, right?”

There he was. That was the Johnny you knew.

“Mm, I don’t know. You could use a little ego beat down,” you laughed, bending down to open your suitcase.

“Don’t lie, love, you find me attractive,” he breathed, his voice rough. You bit your lip at the noise, gripping your shirt tight enough to create wrinkles.

A beat of silence passed before you moved to speak. “Dress code, Johnny?”

He snorted. “You could show up in pajamas and mom and dad would still be glad to see you.”

“Even in those silly Naruto pajamas you wore?” you teased.

“Hey! They were not silly-”

“- sure, anime club VP-”

“- and shut up, you stole them anyways.”

You sighed, remembering the orange pajama top stuffed in the back of a cabinet. “I mean, I could just show up naked if you’re not going to give me some kind of dress code.”

A muffled grunt met your ears as it sounded like he quickly moved the phone away from his mouth and your eyes widened.

“Ugh, sorry about that I...dropped something. But fine, woman, dressy casual. Mom just came back from church and she wants to see dad and I look at least somewhat presentable.”

“How is your mom, by the way? The church?”

“Both doing fine. Mom is running the back to school drive again. Remember Mark Lee? That kid in our youth group? He’s actually the Faith Formation leader now.”

“Markie? Oh my god, I missed him!” you smiled widely as you remembered the hyper boy 4 years younger than you, who was too kind and too pure for his own good.

“I’m starting to feel offended, what about me?”

“No, ‘cause he’s cute and you’re not, Johnny.”

“That right, ‘cause I’m sexy.”

“Oh my god.”

You both burst out laughing, the moment feeling so right it warmed your chest. You laid your floral dress on your bed and flopped down next to it.

“Well, if you’re done inflating your ego, I gotta get ready. Bye bye.”

“Bye, love.”

You sighed for the umpteenth time today and your eyes were drawn around your room. Colorful pictures, awards, and random stuff covered the walls and surfaces of your room. It looked so lived in, so alive and loved it hurt to think about going back home to your starkly empty bedroom.

To be honest, you had no idea what happened. Cynthia liked to call you the ultimate girl next door, and while you vehemently protested it at the time, now you couldn’t help but feel she was right. Back then you thought you were antisocial as hell, but as opposed to the present, you were the life of the party. Clubs, church group, Johnny— you were so bright and bubbly back then, so many people surrounding you in your small hometown.

Now, as opposed to then, you lived life like clockwork. It wasn’t surprising, since after college you threw yourself into studying to be successful, forgetting everything and everyone that made you feel alive. Now, it was robotic, tiring, and lonely.

The picture at the very center of your room caught your attention. It was a lovely one, set during the late afternoon at your town’s park. You and Johnny stood close together, arm in arm, smiling brightly at the camera dressed to the nines.

Prom.

Picking up the frame, you brushed a reverent hand across the picture of the two of you. You both had no one to go with, and decided to go together since everyone else you knew paired off. You remember him awkwardly sliding the white corsage onto your wrist, you having to tip-toe to pin his to the lapel of his blazer. In hindsight, Johnny in senior year was starting to look like the Johnny of today.

That night was so fun. Dancing ‘til you had to take off your heels, Johnny pretending to spike the punch, stuffing your face with the fancy sandwiches provided— the classical prom experience.

The highlight was when Johnny pulled you into dancing the last song of the night. The pair of you couldn’t look each other in the eye as you slowly swayed to the music, breaths hitching at the slight distance between each other. But at the end, when you two finally caught each other’s gazes, was exhilarating. He opened his mouth, his eyes shifting back and forth in nervousness.

You thought he was going to confess.

Instead, he seemed to stop himself and smiled weakly at you. That moment of what could have been, what you could’ve done, haunted you forever until you threw yourself into studying.

What would’ve happened if you had spoken up?

“Y/N-ah!!! My love, come here!”

Heat diffused into your cheeks as you crossed the yard to the tiny woman under the patio bouncing with energy.

You struggled not to run and leap into Mrs. Suh’s arms while carrying a small roll cake from Tous Les Jours. But when you saw her wide smile and eyes folded up like crescents in happiness, you dropped your stuff on the ground and ran into her arms.

“Hi Auntie!” you murmured into her shoulder as you embraced her, tears coming into your eyes as you settled into her warm embrace.

“Oh, Y/N! I haven’t seen you for 10 years, don’t cry!” Mrs. Suh laughed as she held you at arm's length, eyes roving over your face. She wiped a tear off your cheek with her thumb and patted your neck.

“You’ve always been pretty, but now you’ve grown to be so beautiful.” She pinched your arm. “But why aren’t you eating more? Come, auntie will get you some good food.”

“I brought a roll cake, Auntie. I hope you like it,” you said, wiping tears off your face as she led you down the hall.

“Thank you, sweetheart. 여보 (Husband)! Y/N is here! Come out, come out!” she yelled down into the home office.

“Eh? Y/N?” Mr. Suh’s thin voice echoed from the office as a new wave of tears threatened to rise up.

Mr. Suh, a bit older and thinner than when you last saw him, opened the door to his office and a wide smile lit up his face.

“Give your uncle a hug!”

As you gave your best friend’s dad a hug, more tears spilled onto your cheeks. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry!” Mrs. Suh said as she grabbed you into a side-hug, wiping off your tears.

“I just missed you guys so much,” you blubbered, struggling to compose yourself. Tears started to come to Mrs. Suh’s eyes and Mr. Suh laughed. These two had been more than your best friend’s parents, they had raised both of you through thick and thin. You were closer to them than most of your family when you were in high school, and they had never failed to welcome you into their home with open arms.

“Y/N, my wife has been missing her church helper. Bake sales don’t make themselves and she’s getting so old these days, you know?” he said, teasing his wife.

She released you as she slapped his arm. “Yah! You know what, you can set up the table by yourself.. Go!”

You smiled at the utter love and admiration in their eyes as they teased each other. You had always hoped that one day, you could stare into your significant other’s eyes with an ounce of the love they have.

“Ah, Johnny’s probably still fussing with his hair upstairs. He’s missed you so much these days,” she smiled up at you.

“Moooommmm,” Johnny whined, coming down the stairs. “내 비밀 드러내지 마세요! (Don’t reveal my secrets)!”

“What? It’s true, John-ah,” she smiled at him she hugged his torso.

He turned to you, and you looked down, blushing. Johnny looked extra good today, in a casual Oxford and jeans combo that emphasized his proportions.

“Hi there,” he said, leaning on the railing. He gave you a discreet wink from above his mother’s head and affixed an intense stare on your person, his eyes roving up and down your body.

“H-Hey John,” you mumbled, your body curling on itself from his gaze.

“Well, I’m going to leave you two kids alone before my husband breaks something,” she said with a mysterious sparkle in her eye. As if on cue, silverware clattered onto a plate. “Oh dear,” she muttered as she sped down to the kitchen.

The two of you were left in silence.

“You look great today, Y/N.” Johnny smirking as he tilted his head towards you. Where did this confident Johnny come from?

“You too. Since when did you learn such good Korean?” you grinned, trying to lighten the mood. To be fair, Johnny only knew really basic phrases in high school and you were surprised to see unaccented Korean flow fluently from his mouth.

“Oh, I was kinda dropped into the Korea and told to swim, ha.”

“Cool.”

Another awkward silence.

“I missed you a lot, Johnny,” you whispered, foot tracing patterns into the floor.

“Me too, Y/N. I… I missed my best friend.”

You bit your lip as you opened your arms for him and he quickly wrapped his arms around your torso. Even with you standing on your toes, with his tall height he had to bend down slightly. So familiar, yet so different. Breathing in the scent of cologne and the clean linen of his shirt, you hoped he would not hear the pounding of your heart through the thin fabric of your dress.

The two of you stood there in the hallway, basking in the warmth of each other’s bodies until the noise of an iPhone shutter sounded.

Johnny lifted his head from your hair and you looked to see Mrs. Suh standing in the doorway, grinning at the screen of her iPhone which was directed at you.

“엄마 (Mom)!” he groaned, not letting go of you yet.

“I wanted to capture my two loves together, okay? Now give Y/N a pair of slippers, please,” she said, bustling off the kitchen once again.

You let go of him slowly, leaning back down onto the floor.

“You know, you look so different Johnny. I didn’t recognize you at first,” you said quietly, raising a hand to caress his jaw.

“I’ve changed a lot,” he responded, equally as soft. A grin split his face as he grabbed your hand. “You can ogle me later, let’s go before mom smacks me for not helping.”

His hand wrapped around your smaller one as he led you to the dining room table. You tried to go to the kitchen and help but used his grip to force you into a seat, citing you were a guest. You weren’t sure if he did it intentionally, but his hand stroked your arm as he let go of your hand to help in the kitchen, a caress so soft it sent shivers down your spine.

When dinner was served and everyone sat down, you could not resist hungrily scooping large portions of Mrs. Suh’s homemade kimchi-jjigae and Mr. Suh’s galbi onto your plate.

“Eat up, eat up, my love. I cooked your favorites.” Mrs. Suh smiled beside you.

You savored in the taste of her cooking as conversation languidly started, regular family chat you remembered from your many dinners here in high school. As you uncrossed your legs, you accidentally kicked Johnny’s long legs under the table. I’m so sorry, you mouthed silently. Turning back to Mrs. Suh, you couldn’t see the devious smirk crawl upon his plump lips.

You found out Mr. and Mrs. Suh were now fully retired. Mr. Suh spent his days at the Korean Golf Association, playing there and running the tournaments they hosted. Mrs. Suh was now fully committed to the church, taking on a busy schedule of events that was getting hard to manage.

Mrs. Suh was complaining about the new church moms when you quietly asked Johnny to pass the radish over, and he complied. Instead of just handing you the dish, he forked over some slices and dipped them in vinegar, just the way you like it. You grinned at him and he leaned over, then his leg brushed the smooth skin of your bare calves. Your eyes widened.

“...you would not believe how many mothers tried to get me to introduce their daughters to John-ah after I showed them a photo…”

You almost choked as his pant clad leg inserted itself between yours, the fabric of his pants tickling various spots on your legs causing every sense to be heightened. Feeling the goosebumps on your arms, you turned an accusing gaze to him but he looked nonplussed, eating his cabbage.

“...but I’ve met them already, and they’re not for Johnny, you know? They never liked Johnny in high school, so why should…”

You frantically grabbed for a glass of water as his knee brushed the inside of your thigh. A small whine left your lips as your pussy tightened, gripping the glass very tight. A drop of moisture collected in your panties, and quickly created a pool as his legs trapped yours.

“... Oh I love Mark-ah and Hyerim, but you were so good with the kids, Y/N-ah!...”

You let a curtain of hair cover your face to hide your reddening expression, breasts heaving as your breathing start to pick up. When his knee started move along the inside of your thigh, your teeth dug into your bottom lip hard enough to bleed, your remaining hand bunching up in your dress. You could see a small smirk form on Johnny’s face while he was eating and you scowled in his direction, squirming from the added moisture in your panties.

“...kids, Y/N-ah?”

You were shaken out of your daze when Mr. and Mrs. Suh looked expectantly at you.

“Sorry, auntie?”

“Do you have a husband? Or wife? How about kids— you are a born mother!”

Johnny’s foot slid to meet your ankle, forcing you to swallow hard. You hoped like hell your nipples wouldn’t peak through your dress. You already knew there was no saving your panties, shifting so your arousal wouldn’t stain your dress or the chair beneath you. You laughed awkwardly. “Ah, no, not quite. My job keeps me traveling around so much and I haven’t had time to start a family.”

“You still want one?”

Images of kids with hair like yours running around sunlit fields, a big house and a big belly, swollen with your baby flashed quickly in your head. Your smile turned sad.

“I’d love nothing more than one.”

Mrs. Suh smiled proudly, and turned to Johnny to nag him about her lack of grandkids or a daughter in law. Johnny had stopped playing footsie with you and was trying to avoid his mom’s hands grabbing at his face, but your breath still ran ragged when something occurred to you about your vision.

Those kids had the same eyes as Johnny.

(So caught up in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Mr. Suh nudge Johnny in the arm, silently telling him to “hurry up”.)

“Y/N, I ban you from the kitchen! You are the guest,” Mrs. Suh stressed, waving you out of the question with a soapy glove.

“Absolutely not. I want to help you clean. Besides, you’re getting old, y’know?” you ribbed, pulling back your hair and grabbing a clean towel. As soon as dinner ended, you bolted out of the room into the kitchen, ignoring the stickiness between your legs.

“Aigoo! Fine, fine,” she relented, rinsing a dirty bowl.

Toweling off the glasses Mrs. Suh had recently cleaned, your gaze had wandered to Johnny’s tall figure in the dining room. As he moved about, Johnny seemed so much more comfortable in his lanky limbs, no longer the awkward kid you knew. His actions were done with surety of someone who knew of his own self-worth, sure of his abilities and flaws. Regret washed over you, mixed in with pride. You were so, so proud of the man you see before your eyes, but you desperately wished you could have been part of it.

Mrs. Suh watched you with a secret smile as your toweling slowed down.

“I know I said it before, but Johnny really missed you.”

“Huh?” you asked dumbly, taken out of your stupor.

“During the first few years after high school, I was so sure Johnny was going to break down. You two had become so busy and slowly lost contact— he didn’t know how to function without you! John-ah was like a blind man, stumbling around, aimless. But one day... it somehow all changed.”

“How?” you asked quietly.

“I found him in his room one day, one of the times he came back home. He was reading some of the Post-It notes he would randomly stick around his room, and it looked faded. I couldn’t see it, of course, but I saw John-ah slip into his pocket. The night I saw him, his eyes were bright, his shoulders, determined. His company took off right after he visited.”

Mrs. Suh stopped cleaning as she gazed at her boy, a small smile playing at her lips.

“I’m so proud of the man he has become. Yet… yet he’s told me he doesn’t feel satisfied, you know? Like there’s something empty in his chest. Like he’s looking for something but he doesn’t know what.”

Your breath caught in your throat and your heartbeat started to pound in your ears. How… how could it be so similar? How could he feel the exact same as what you do?

“Personally, I...I think he needs a family. He wants a girl he can love, and, dear god, you don’t know how much he wants kids.”

If you bit any harder, your lip would bleed onto your pretty dress.

“John-ah… you don’t see the look in his eyes when we pass by a child. He just completely stops listening to the conversation, and it’s like he can’t look away. He told me about your friend’s daughter— Callie, yes?— and then he finally realized how much he wanted kids. So, so much.”

A fine tremor wracked your hand as you put away the plates, lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t as if you were shocked, oh no. It was more the fact that you could finally see it: you and Johnny, looking into each other’s eyes, in each other’s loving embrace as your children with your hair and his eyes slept in the crib in front of you.

Distractedly, you toweled the rest of the dishes and kissed her cheek as you shuffled off to the living room.

“Y/N, dear,” she called out after you.

“Yes, Auntie?”

Her eyes suddenly seemed so old.

“You don’t know how scared he was when he thought Callie was yours.”

As promised, the next day Johnny took you out to the best coffee place in your hometown. Broken Egg Cafe was a small place squeezed in between a boutique and an alcohol store on main street, and it was as shabby as it looked on its facade. Mix and match furniture dotted the rustic food place, dim lighting providing an ambient atmosphere. The cafe was the usual haunt of the local community college kids who liked the hipster atmosphere and comfy spots. That, and it was the place where everyone knew that if you went on a date, you were seriously committed to each other.

Trying not to dwell on it, you sat patiently while scrolling through your phone. A grin lit up your face as you saw the series of photos Mrs. Suh had posted on Facebook, all of the Suh family dinner you partook in. You clicked the heart and saved all the photos, and, embarrassingly, the one where Johnny had led you to the table. You were grinning at each other, his hand resting on your shoulder, as Mr. Suh was reached for something out of frame. Quickly, a few taps had replaced the generic background of your phone with the picture.

Funnily enough, all the photos posted had included you in it. Call yourself crazy, but you expected Mrs. Suh to post a few of her and her husband, or her and her son— but no. You could even see the ones where visible sweat gleaned from your brow, shakily smiling after Johnny had played footsie under the table.

“Y/N!”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. You gave him a quick glance over and, wow, he looked devilishly handsome today. An old Ramones shirt half-tucked into skinny jeans was an interesting contrast to his usual business attire, his ratty converse slapping on the wood beams as he strode towards you.

He evidently saw your glance-over as a shit-eating grin graced his lips, and you could only ignore the heat in your cheeks then bury your head into his chest.

“Hey sweet girl, how are you?” he whispered into your ear, your shoulders tensing as a breath of hot air hit your sensitive neck.

“Well, you?” you murmured near his neck.

“Great as you can be waiting for the reunion tonight,” he snickered.

A snort passed your lips as you flopped down onto the couch, tucking your feet under you and propping your head on your palm. His lanky figure settled into the couch, limbs comfortably positioned to face you.

“I ordered your ridiculous drink, you know. Grande Chai Tea Latte, 3 Pumps, Skim Milk, Lite Water—”

“—no foam, extra hot?” you asked disbelievingly.

“Yes, your frou-frou white girl drink that’ll cause cavities,” he grumbled.

“I could kiss you, you know that?” you blurted, eyes glued to the server bringing you your drink.

He murmured something as you said your thanks to the server, grasping the cup with 2 hands.

“Huh?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

You rolled your eyes and knocked your knee against his. “Didn’t Auntie tell you to stop doing that?”

Soon, a light hearted conversation reminiscing about the past started up. You could both of you slip back into that easy rhythm that was your dynamic back in high school, joking and ranting to each other. You laughed about everything from the time he took up skateboarding and briefly became emo, the antics the band kids had gotten up to, and even your horrible experience with AP Calculus.

“And, oh my god, remember what Jake did at senior prom? I can’t believe he wasn’t expelled,” you said, eyes wide.

“Jake? My lord and savior, Jake?” Johnny asked, his grin widening. “Man, that was my bro. Swag brothers forever.”

“Johnny, he put smuggled in a chicken. To this day I don’t how he did that!”

“Secret.” He put a finger over his lips. “But, I will tell you I had to distract to Prom Committee by B-Boying.”

You shook your head, hiding a smile. “Prom was so fun, wasn’t it? The theme was great that year, they ordered great food—”

“—You went with me, duh—”

“—and I didn’t trip over my dress! You were an okay date for prom.”

Johnny gasped loudly, and laid a hand over his hard, clearly offended. “Excuse me? I clearly remember you made me trip during the last dance! Here I was, being a great date, leading us through the dance, and you placed a wrong foot forward. You!”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “That was only because you–” you pressed a finger into his hard chest “–were too close.”

“Can you blame me?” he breathed.

It was in that moment you realized how close you were to him. Somehow, throughout the course of the conversation, you both had scooted closer to each other on the couch and ended up with both your legs tangled together.

“W-what are you talking about, Youngho?”

He sighed, his hands unconsciously seeking out yours. “Y/N, can I be honest?”

“Of course you can, you can always be with me,” you reassured, still confused as hell.

A soft smile came to his face. “I... the day at the cafe. I was never in town to meet with my old investor. I came here, back to town and this reunion, in hopes of seeing my beautiful best friend.”

“I–”

“Hold on, let me… let me tell you what’s been on my mind.”

His thumb started stroking hands, your mind briefly registering the large difference in size before freaking out at how close he was to you.

“In high school, you were my only good friend. My pillar, my rock, the only one who held my hand before I became...me. From freshman to senior year, you enchanted me and I could only helplessly fall into you, like a singularity Mrs. Kee harped on about in Physics,” he chuckled.

“Sometimes, I would look at you and think, why me? You could have befriended every other boy, but no. It was me. Even when everyone made fun of me and rejected me, it was always me. And god, prom.”

“I was so damn close to telling you how I felt that night, dancing with you for the last song. I mentally prepared myself and everything, I needed to tell you before we graduated, and I opened my mouth and then it hit me: you deserve someone so much better. You had your whole life in front of you, and why should dorky ol’ me hold you back? I didn’t tell you, and I...I don’t regret it.”

Pain rippled over his face then he composed himself, his stare burning into yours.

“I was so lost without you for years. How could I be with you when I didn’t even know where I was going? But that one day… I decided I was going to find myself. Moved to Korea, started a company… you know the rest. I became the best I could be.”

Tears started to well up at the edges of your eyes, and as your lips quivered you brought a soft hand to cheek. You didn’t know his insecurity ran that deep; you thought those little self-deprecating jokes were just that–jokes. What kind of best friend were you that you let him think so badly of himself, from high school and the years that followed?

He leaned into your touch, and the tension evaporated from his broad shoulders.

“10 years later, and I think that maybe, maybe I’m good enough for myself– good enough for you. So I sign myself up for this stupid little reunion, fly back home, yet in that little cafe I was so unprepared to see you.”

His lips brushed over your palm, like the brush of silk, and then he leaned back.

“When I saw you that day, it felt like a dream. I wasn’t sure if I was seeing you for real and when I knew, I was so fucking happy. And, like a cruel imitation of prom, something held me back.”

“I didn’t realize that maybe you moved on without me, maybe you had a family and a new best friend. I felt so stupid at the time, seeing you look so beautiful, thinking I could just waltz back in we could pick up where we left off. It’s no excuse, but it’s why I lied and was a complete asshole towards you. I was so disappointed in myself.”

You couldn’t hear anything around you, see anything around you, and was engulfed by the vision of your best friend looking at you like a prayer.

“What do you feel now, Youngho?” you whispered.

“I will always see you as my everything.”

His lips brushed against your forehead and he walked out before you could process anything.

“Thanks!” Cynthia calls out as she exits the Uber Black XL. You give a wan smile to the driver as you carefully step out onto the pavement.

The golden sign of the Langham shone bright against the rapidly darkening Chicago skyline, reflecting off the mirror-like glass. Perhaps it was the fact that you were a New Yorker, or the fact you were shivering and it wasn’t because of the cold, but you could not concentrate on the sight at all.

“Isn’t this place gorgeous? The girls and I worked hard to get a banquet hall here, like, hard. Who cares about the thirty minute drive when you can get a place like this?” your friend calls out excitedly, sweeping an arm to emphasize to view.

“You did well for yourselves this time. I bet the committee for the class before ours is steaming,” you shakily joked. Well, not quite. As said before, school reunions were huge for your school, each class trying to outdo each other at every turn, from the venue to the catering and more. Your class must be feeling quite proud right now.

“I bet this is so-so for you, city girl,” she ribbed. A yelp escaped your lips, accusingly looking towards her as you rubbed the spot where she elbowed you. “Oh shut up, PTA mom.”

No matter how much you liked to tease her, Cynthia looked the opposite of a PTA mom tonight. Her cocktail attire hugged her post-pregnancy curves, but, looking at her now, she looked like a mix of her youthful party persona with worldly maturity. She definitely would be turning a few heads tonight.

“C’mon, city girl, let’s go. I need to see if everything is perfect!”

Your 10-year high school reunion was held in a ballroom 2 stories above the street, sumptuous in its decoration and looking more like a corporate dinner than anything else. Dozens of circular tables dotted the floor of the room, each set in the green and gold of your high school colors. A particularly large “Go Spartans! Class of 2XXX” sign was posted right outside the door, attracting people to sign their names onto the banner with a flourish. While you and Cynthia were on time, many people had shown up and milled about the room.

“Oh my god, there’s our val! Let’s see if she’s something cool or just peaked in high school,” Cynthia whispered conspiratorially, dragging your unsure figure towards the crowd.

You tried your best to greet everybody in the large ballroom, but a certain man was still lingering at the forefront of your mind. Every few seconds, you would catch yourself glancing around nervously, especially towards the large double doors that heralded anyone’s arrival. Eventually, when you caught yourself gravitating closer to the entrance, you knew you were being ridiculous.

An expensive-sounding roar sounded outside the building, and a collective head turn had the crowd’s eyes riveted on a white car in the valet lane of the hotel. You didn’t know much about cars, but even looking at it 2 stories up, it looked like something out of a movie. Male murmurs of appreciation were heard as the butterfly doors of the car opened up, even bystanders stopping and staring. You felt a sinking feeling at the bottom of your stomach as a good-looking man in a grey suit stepped out, his black wavy hair visible from a distance.

God, how were you even supposed to talk to Johnny? Somehow, telling him “I’ve secretly pined over you for years and would like to have your babies” didn’t quite do it for you.

“Y/N? Oh my gosh!”

Not this shit again.

Repressing an oncoming headache, you plastered your best fake smile that you put on especially for disagreeable clients and turned towards the snooty, entitled voice that was so familiar.

“Victoria! Wonderful to see you again,” you simpered. Goodness, you could see her fake tan glowing radioactively in the dim light.

“Oh, come here! It’s great to see you here, don’t you look just fab.” Victoria threw her arms out, as if you two were the best of friends, and you stepped into a polite embrace. Granted, now you could see her typical Brooks Brother dress was well-fitted, but screamed “country-club mom!” in your face.

“You’ve got to meet my husband. James, come here!”

A well-built man in a tailored navy suit lumbered towards her, two champagne flutes in his hands. Gazing at his chiseled features and neat blond hair, you could admit Victoria had caught quite the catch.

“Victoria,” he murmured, handing a glass to her. He caught sight of you, his eyes roving predatorily over your body that made you shiver in a not-so-nice way.

“Sweetheart, would you care to introduce me to your friend?” he said, not taking his eyes off of you.

She clearly noticed the way he was speaking to you, her lined eyes narrowing and her lips curling into a snarl.

“Husband, this is Y/N, an acquaintance of mine. We didn’t hang out with the same crowd, she preferred those geeky types,” Victoria emphasized, making it clear that you were undesirable.

He hummed while still looking at your legs and you could spot the signs of a dysfunctional marriage right away. You saw it in the men you worked with, obviously bored with a taste for female coworkers, even though his wedding band shone bright on his left hand. You sort of felt bad for her, no matter how much of a bitch she was to you.

“Anyways, I saw you were looking for someone. Did you bring any hot hubby?” she giggled a bit too brightly.

You smiled tightly. She was clearly trying to humiliate you, but once her dear husband found out you were single, you wouldn’t be surprised if you found yourself cornered in a hallway. “Not today, Vicky,” you said, knowing it would irritate the hell out of her. Victoria hated the nickname ‘Vicky’, claiming it sounded too country-bumpkin for her tastes.

“That’s right! You’re single, with your fancy office job and all–”

“Y/N, I was looking for you.”

It felt like your senses were on superdrive, hyper-alert of the man standing behind you.

You really weren’t prepared for this. You really, really weren’t. You hadn’t had any time to mentally or emotionally prepare for when you spoke to Johnny the next time you saw him, cowardly languishing in a pool of anxiety and insecurity.

Well, you were L/N Y/N. Hired straight out of college for J.P. Morgan. You were promoted and trusted because you could handle high pressure situations like this. So, you put on your big girl face and turned to see Johnny.

His smirking lips were the first thing you saw, and then his eyes, wolfish and sharp. Johnny was indeed the man in the grey suit with the fancy car, and you could see the way this particular get-up highlighted his lean figure.

“Johnny, hey,” you smiled softly, though you were sure there was a nervous lilt to your voice. Evidently, he caught on as his smirk widened and he stepped closer to you. The whiplash was real. One moment he was a lovestruck boy confessing to you in a coffee shop and the next he was a smooth-tongued man that made your knees weak.

“Johnny Suh? Mister Johnny Suh?”

The pair of you looked towards Victoria’s husband, whom looked awe-struck.

“Yes?” Johnny asked, eyes settling on the man in front of him.

There was no masculine size-up moment you’ve always seen in Wall street meetings, but James postured and simpered his way to Johnny.

“It’s great to meet you! I’m James Bouchard, a financial analyst. I worked with Banksy’s finance department before on the 2015 Orchard project.”

A charming smile made its way onto Johnny’s face, the perfect picture of a suave businessman. As great as it was looking at Johnny in his natural element, it was infinitely more amusing to watch the changing moods on Victoria’s countenance. Currently, she was stuck on shock as she learned more about the boy she shunned.

“Is Ms. Y/N your lovely wife? My wife just introduced me to her, you caught a great one,” he winked, trying to flatter Johnny’s ego.

Your best friend (crush? Classmate? Acquaintance?) merely chuckled and snaked an arm around your waist. He looked down at you with undisguised admiration, making you blush and look away. “I’d say she was the one that caught me, since we’ve been best friends since high school. Although, your wife didn’t quite seem to like me in high school. Pity.” Unable to resist, you looked sharply up at him. Since when were you his wife? Well, not that you’d protest, but these kinds of decisions require two consenting adults!

James looked down on his wife with malice in his eyes for potentially ruining a lucrative connection that she didn’t even know would exist. Victoria looked deeply embarrassed.

“Well, it was great seeing both of you! C’mon, James, dear, the food looks lovely,” she said brightly, beating out a hasty retreat with James angrily striding behind.

Sitting in silence for a few moments, you finally raised an eyebrow, a common signal that you used to ask him to ‘explain’. He opened his mouth, but a shout of his name had both of you turning towards the origin. Johnny rolled his eyes, and went to speak to you again but louder, greater shouts interrupted him.

“Look, baby, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” he ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated at the interruption.

“Go to your swag bros, Johnny. I think they miss you,” you said drily as they began clanging glasses.

“You’re the best,” he kissed your forehead hurriedly.

“Ooh-la-la, what was that about?” Cynthia sauntered up beside you, looking in the direction of the tall man.

“It was nothing, Cynthia.”

“Nothing? Johnny-with-the-great-biceps called you ‘baby’ and kissed you on the forehead, I don’t think that’s nothing.”

“Cynthia, I…” you bit your lip, discomfited.

Her eyes softened, seeing the deeply troubled set to your face.

��Let’s go to somewhere else.”

“—and now I don’t know what to do!”

Cynthia nodded mutely after hearing you explain the past days’ goings on, from the cafe to the walk and even to the dinner. She was uncharacteristically staying silent, soaking in the information as you recounted the tale.

She looked contemplative for a few moments, before her eyes sought yours. “You want to know what I think?”

“Aren’t you here for that?” you snapped.

She looked you dead in the eye. “You’re being an absolute idiot right now.”

You spluttered for a few seconds. “Uh- what? Hold on, Cynthia—”

“He’s deeply in love with you, and from what I’ve heard you sound like you feel the same. It’s that simple.”

“I-I—”

“Tell me right now, what would happen if he got married right now to someone that wasn’t you?”

“I would die before that would happen!” you snarled. Going back, you realized what you said and quickly deflated. “Well, I… I would be deeply devastated. God, Cynthia, from the time in school to now, I realized I love him. He’s my best friend, my pillar, my rock. He’s been there for me so many times I can’t even count it all.”

“And then it gets even worse knowing that he wants a family too. I don’t know if you know Cynthia, but I’m so lonely up in the big bright lights of New York. It’s gotten so bad that I’ve considered adopting and artificial insemination, even gone to an IVF clinic. But it won’t be the same, because I want a family and my belly round and my kids playing in the backyard, and it scares me that I can see it all with him.”

You sighed glumly. “I should’ve just confessed to him at prom.”

Cynthia smiled sympathetically. “Why don’t you just tell him what you told me?”

“She just did.”

You both started violently, and saw a large shadow blocking the doorway.

Johnny.

Your girl best friend snorted and quickly exited, patting Johnny’s back on her way out.

“Johnny! You scared the hell out of me!” you scolded, your hand on your rapidly rising chest.

A deep laugh rumbled from his chest as he took a seat next to you.

“Do you have something to tell me, baby?”

Heat rose to your cheeks. “Yes.”

“Go on, sweet cheeks. I won’t judge.”

However, his smug grin of a man knowing what’s about to come told you otherwise.

“Johnny!” you whined, flinging a throw pillow at him.

He ducked and snickered. “Fine, fine, I’ll stop.”

You settled down and hugged yourself. “This may not be as long as what you said in the coffee shop, but Johnny… I’ve loved you since freshman year. I’ve loved you in every year after that, even when we got separated for almost a decade. I didn’t realize what I was missing in my life was you, that my life wasn’t right without my best friend by my side. When I came back home I wasn’t expecting anything, but I think an unconscious part of me hoped to see you. Everything I said with Cynthia is true and I—stop staring at me!’’

“I can’t, you’re too beautiful,” he deadpanned, but you saw the mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

“Just kiss me you– you tub of lard!”

Johnny effortlessly pulled you into his lap to straddle, arms snaking around your hips as he placed his lips onto yours.

All the tension immediately evaporated from your body, as your limbs felt like liquid in his arms. His tongue swiped against the bottom of your lips, and you found a shred of will inside of you and playfully resisted. He squeezed your side, the sensitive bit right under your breasts, and your lips parted automatically as you moaned.

You felt shivers wherever he touched you, but felt it was unfair he was giving and not receiving. Your nails combed through his hair, found a section of hair, tugged sharply.

He growled into the kiss and you felt his hard erection through his dress pants, poking at your inner thigh.

“Still think I’m a tub of lard?” he whispered at the corner of your mouth, flexing his thick thighs underneath you and pulling you closer to his rock-hard chest.

“Mmph, no, Johnny.”

His smoky eyes looked into yours. “Also, don’t, Y/N.”

“...what?” you said confusedly as you calmed down. Did you do something wrong?

“Don’t try to have kids through those… those methods.”

“Do you mean IVF? Artificial insemination?”

A nod.

A frown pulled at your lips and you leaned back unconsciously. “Johnny, don’t you understand? I want my own children so badly I can barely think, okay? I never thought I’d want to have one a few years ago, but call it mother’s instincts— “

“When you have a child, it’s going to be mine. You’re gonna have one the proper way—by me throughly fucking a baby into your cunt,” he hissed through his teeth, right into your ear.

Goosebumps rose along your skin and you clenched his shoulders harder as he suckled kisses along the side of your neck. With some, he even added little presses of the tongue, making you clench your legs around his torso tighter.

“My baby likes dirty talk, doesn’t she? Just like she liked my little game of footsie,” he laughed, puffs of air blooming on your sensitive skin.

“Johnny,” you weakly reprimanded. You then noticed the hands that were clasped at your knees, rubbing the sweet spot underneath, and felt a moisture pool in your lacy thong.

“So, whaddya say? You say yes and I drive to my apartment and fuck you until your stomach swells with my children, or I do it regardless of where we are.”

You finally realize you are heavily making out in a side hallway where someone could see you easily. While the idea was tempting, if not a bit hot, you visualize your naked bodies writhing as he slides in and out of you—

“Yes, please, Johnny, please.”

The ride to his apartment was surprisingly comfortable. After hastily leaving the party, you two hopped into his butterfly sports car and roared down the avenue.

Don’t get it wrong, the sexual tension was there and as present as ever, but it wasn’t awkward in the slightest. You folded your legs up to the side and leaned towards him, his right hand softly stroking your knee while he zoomed down the streets of Chicago.

An elevator ride later, you were admiring the night Chicago skyline from Johnny’s bedroom window as he pressed kisses onto your shoulders.

“Youngho,” you sighed, leaning into him.

He hummed and nipped lightly at your neck.

“C’mon babe, undress for me.”

He sauntered back to the bed as you fumbled with the pins in your hair, shaking your hair loose of the tight up-do it had been in.

You looked back to see Johnny at the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide and leaning back with an arm.

“I haven’t done this in a long time, so I’m probably going to disappoint you,” you warned as you set down the pins with a clink.

“Indulge me. I’ve been fantasizing about this moment since Junior year,” he smirked lazily.

You cast a doubtful look towards him, but obliged nonetheless.

Starting with your jewelry, you unclasped your necklace, earrings, and watch and carefully set them on the counter. Your heels were kicked off to the side, and that was left was your dress. You breathed in deeply and released, methodically unbuttoning your dress until it fell with a soft whisper on the floor.

You looked through your curtain of hair to gauge his reaction and Johnny looked dazed, his eyes slightly glassy with his mouth slightly parted.

“Youngho?”

“C’mere.”

You was sure your gait resembled a newborn foal rather than some sultry vixen, but Johnny did not seem to care. He pulled you into his lap once again, but this time sideways.

His kisses trailed innocently at the top of your bra and you find yourself impatient. “I thought you were going to fuck my cunt?” you pronounced succinctly.

Johnny’s teeth bit harshly at the tops of your breasts, eliciting a harsh hiss from you. “Now you’ve done it, baby.”

You giggled as he practically threw you onto the bed, a male moan of appreciation slipping from his lips when he saw you splayed out for him. He ducked in to steal a kiss, supporting himself with his toned arms and you grasped the back of his head.

Johnny licked a long stripe on your clavicle as you gave a sharp tug on the knot of his tie. Removing the black tie, your fingers quickly got to work unbuttoning his shirt. He got on his knees to tug it off in one glorious motion, exposing his well-built chest to your hungry eyes.

It was surreal to see this Johnny kneeling before you, topless and licking his lips, and it was hard to find any trace of the boy in Naruto pajamas everywhere.

“Get up for me baby, scoot up a bit,” he urged.

As you obeyed, you took the chance to slip off your bra. Heat rose to stay permanently on your cheeks as you unclasped it and shrugged it off. You nipples quickly stiffened to the air and Johnny looked absolutely delighted.

Your eyes tracked him as he leaned forward and carefully weighed one in his large hands. His thumb brushed the soft underside of your breast and your shoulders quivered like a leaf in the wind.

“All for me to play with?” he said under his breath, looking entranced by the pliant flesh in his hands.

Getting between your legs, his tongue laved at the skin of your breasts, “accidental” licks getting you to squirm. Johnny’s plump lips continued their trail to your stomach and finally kissed the edges of your thong.

“May I?” he asked formally, raising his gleaming eyes to yours.

You nodded and his nimble fingers dragged your panties down, forcing you to brace your calves against his shoulders. He tossed them carefully to the vanity before lowering himself to eye level with your pussy.

“My pretty baby has such a pretty pussy, doesn’t she?” he cooed, thumbs rubbing the crux of your thighs.

Whining in agreement, you opened your legs wider for his perusal and looked away in embarrassment.

Johnny tsked and forced your chin to look at down at him. “Look at me.”

He wouldn’t let go until you leaned your head into his palm. He held eye contact with you as he slowly pressed his lips against your labia, your eyes widening and mewl escaping your lips.

You slammed your hand against your mouth as he began exploring, curling into the pillow and looking heavenward. His tongue peaked out and caressed the hood of your clit, beckoning for it to come. You muffled a scream when he used his tongue more liberally, reaching deeper and curling into the walls of your pussy. Your hips lifted off the mattress as you writhed underneath his torturous tongue until Johnny’s hands clamped down and forced your limbs onto the bed.

He was truly gifted at this, easily finding the spots that made you squirm. It felt like hours passed as he used his flexible tongue on you, playing you easily, and you slipped in and out of reality. But then he suckled, and you lost it.

Your limbs flailed as you wailed, suffocated with a blanket of pleasure. You had no idea what to do with your hands, switching places from tugging at your hair to squeezing your arms and even grasping Johnny’s thick locks until you settled for grasped the edges of the pillow next to you.

“No! Johnny, I- I can’t— oh my god—Agh!”

He shushed you quickly, murmuring “you can take it” against your thighs. You felt the pressure inside your stomach build, holding your breath as it inched closer and closer to that edge. Johnny finally pressed his thumb against your clit and you let out a full-throated scream, succumbing to the wave of pleasure dragging you under. Your knees knocked together painfully and you slid further down the mattress, pussy gushing out underneath you.

But no; he cruelly drew it out, kept on rubbing circles into your sensitive flesh until your eyes rolled to the back of your head and were unable to speak.

A few breathless moments passed and he broke the silence. “Not only are my oral skills great, but my oral skills are too” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes, before yelping as one of the aftershocks wracked your limbs.

Johnny merely chuckled before flipping you onto your stomach, face down on the mattress. Peeking over your shoulder, you glimpsed Johnny tugging off his pants and boxers until his hard erection stood proud, springing back and forth in the air. You gulped; it was a beautiful pink, veiny as hell, topped with a mushroom tip oozing out pre cum. Most importantly, it was huge —you had no idea he was packing that underneath his gym shorts— and looked to be the girth of your wrist.

“Johnny, i-is it gonna fit?” you stuttered nervously.

He smiled proudly at you, his hand stroking his cock up and down. “You have one tight pussy, love, but I’ve prepped you a lot and we’ll make it work. Don’t worry, okay?”

With that he forced your head against the sheets, taking away your vision completely. You felt extremely vulnerable with your butt raised high up in the air, but Johnny quickly grasped your hips and rubbed his cock against the seam of your pussy lips, lathering it in your cum.

“Tell me, baby, how much do you want this?”

“So much!” you murmured into the mattress.

He thrust his hips just a bit and his tip quickly slid in and out of you. “What was that?”

“Johnny, please! I want it so much!” you moaned into the mattress.

“Say it. I want to hear filth from your pretty lips,” he hissed, sounding impatient. He certainly felt impatient, his hands gripping your hips so hard they would surely bruise and his erection throbbing against your quim.

“I want you to fuck me raw with your huge cock! I want your cum leaking from my pussy—please, Johnny, please! Fuck me!” you cried.

“My dirty girl,” he purred. HIs lined his cock up with your entrance and slowly sank in, both of you groaning reactively. His dick stretched you and it toed the line between pain and pleasure but, nevertheless, you sunk your hips into his.

“Not— not too fast, Youngho. You’re really, really big,” you whimpered. He waited for a while before leisurely thrusting in and then picking up pace.

“Oh fuck, Youngho, just like that,” you moaned. He also let out strangled groans of pleasure, echoing in his large bedroom. Crude slaps of flesh against flesh reverberated in your ears, puncturing the sound of blood roaring in your veins. His testes smacked periodically against your clit and you could not stop the indecent noises coming from your mouth.

“Good?” he grunted, his sweaty black bangs sticking to his forehead as he thrust. You could imagine his chest gleaming with sweat from the city lights and the image made you wetter, if possible.

A particularly sharp thrust jolted your hips, and kept his hips flush against yours with his cock in you. “I said, good?”

“Fuck, I like it—it’s so good— and, oh my gosh, I love it, I love it, I love it—” you rambled incoherently.

He snorted and pulled out.

“Youngho, don’t stop—”

“Get on your back, baby. Let me see you.”

With great effort, you rolled over and your vision of him did no justice. He looked ethereal, gleaming in his sweat. Shadows played across his body as his muscles flexed and contracted and you were breathless.

“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, Y/N.”

A terrible mixture of excitement and arousal arose from you. The idea of him fucking you full of his come and looking down at your round belly was almost too much. You whined up at him, wiggling your hips.

He tsked in disapproval. “Nuh-uh, legs up, sweetheart. Missionary is the best way to get you pregnant.”

You truly were worried that your arousal would leak down your legs as you lifted your limbs up to his broad shoulders. He firmly grasped the sides of your stomach and pulled you closer to him.

As you were watching him with a sort of breathless excitement, he was glued to the sight of his cock sinking into your pussy, bewitched by the way your folds parted for his cock like the blooming of a flower. Johnny quickly put a hand over the lower half of your stomach, thrusting robustly upwards and while you screamed, he wore a shit-eating grin on his face.

“W-What is it, Johnny?” you breathed harshly.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned loudly as he thrust once more. “F-feel this, baby.”

He put your hand where his had previously been and thrust upwards. Your lips parted in wonder when you felt a small bulge form underneath your hand. His cock was that big?

“Holy—Agh!— shit,” you pant.

His eyes flared with lust as he rammed his cock in again, just to see that little bump appear, and did so again and again until you heard his fancy bed frame start to creak.

This position was by far the best, even if it was good ol’ missionary. The slight curve to his cock caused the head to press deliciously into the walls of your pussy, and you felt him much closer than ever before.

You could spot his thick, muscled thighs ripple with the effort he was putting into fucking you and gripped the sheets much harder. Noises of content, ‘yes’s’ and ‘fuck’s!’ spat out with increasing frequency, permeated the air thick of the scent of sex and sweat.

He slipped your legs off his shoulders and around his waist before supporting himself above you with his veiny forearms. “Homestretch, baby.”

You were cut off from snorting as you screamed, his cock ramming into your hips. In-and-out, the delicious stretch repeating over and over again until you felt a familiar haze spread over you.

“I’m going to stuff you full of cum, Y/N. I’m going to knock you up with the baby you so desperately want, right? A baby with my eyes and your hair?” he growled.

You heart skipped a beat. How did he know what you saw?

“Mmm! Yes, yes! I’ll be barefoot and pregnant for you!”

“Your pussy takes my cock so well, baby, so well, you don’t even know. Fuck, I’m just imagining my cum on your pretty pink pussy lips.”

He went in so deep, until you felt his balls pressing into your ass and the tip of his cock pressing into your womb.You felt so filled, physically and emotionally, as you basked in the man thrusting into you like a piston.

The same in-and-out of reality experience occurred and you found your eyes rolling back into your head, not registering anything else. You felt like you were sinking in molasses, pleasure and bliss cocooning you tight and secure. The familiar wave was starting to build up again.

You came back to your senses as his hand drifted in between you and hovered near the crux of your thighs. In concurrence with his solid thrusting, his thumb began harshly rubbing circles into your clit, zings of delight firing over your whole body.

“Cum, baby, I know you want to. I can feel your tight pussy fluttering all over my cock,” he grunted.

His cock hit your cervix and your hands made vicious marks against his back as you wailed loudly in pleasure. The wave had crested but Johnny had not stopped whatsoever. Your best friend was still in desperate search for his peak that he thrust even faster, overstimulating you so much you inadvertently thrashed to get away from him.

A choked cry left your lips as he ruthlessly pulled your hips back and inserted his cock again, this time slamming into you with a force caused loud creaks from the bed frame.

“You don’t get to stop until there’s a goddamn baby in you. God, I’m going to cum so fucking hard.”

“Fill me up, Johnny.” you goaded. “Make me yours forever. Put a fucking baby in my belly.”

“Shit!” he hissed out.

You felt the spurts of his come from the tip and you wrapped yourself around him tighter as he let out a strangled moan, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Biting the spot between your collarbone and your neck, Johnny added to the collection of red and purple you were sure was already there. He gave little staccato thrusts as you felt more and more cum fill up your pussy, until an obscene squelching sound was heard as he was moving in and out of you.

He panted for a few moments, kneeling back onto the bed and spreading your legs wide. You attempted to cover your seeping pussy but he brushed your hand aside and focused on the small stream of white leaking.

“You look gorgeous like that, Y/N. Tired and sated with my cum leaking out of you.”

You scooped up some of the excess and brought it to your lips, sucking his salty cum off of your fingers one by one. You raised an eyebrow.

He groaned and wrapped you into his side, as if asking the universe “What am I going to do with her?”. You smiled snuggled into his side, happy that you finally weren’t alone anymore.

“Johnny... I’m ovulating today. There is a huge, huge chance of me getting pregnant. D-do you really, really want to this baby? Do you really… do you really want a family? With me?” you whispered.

“Let me show you something.” He climbed out of bed, naked as the day he was born, and returned to the room a navy suit jacket when you saw him at the cafe. He pulled out one of the heart-shaped pink Post-It notes you gave to him ironically during sophomore year and handed it to you.

On the paper, it had a date and some scribbled words.

11/4/2XXX

I’m going to marry Y/N.

“I wrote that in 10th grade,” he murmured beside you. “I’m more confident in myself that I can owe up to those words. I feel like… like I’m worthy of you now.”

“Oh, Youngho,” you sighed, thumb stroking his plump lips. You kissed them and smiled up at the man who was your best friend, your lover—the man you wanted to marry and have kids with. How could you ever repay him for making you feel whole again? “I accept the you from then and the you now. Whatever you are and wherever you are, you are always worthy of love.”

Please don’t forget to like, comment and reblog! I would also really appreciate that if you liked my work enough, that you would consider supporting me by buying me a kofi at ko-fi.com/caiuscassiuss. Thank you so much for reading!

8K notes · View notes

satoruvt · 4 years

Text

the color of you - blue (6)

ITS HERE. I HOPE I DID WELL. PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT AKDSHKFJSDH

pairing → keigo takami x reader

word count → 3213

summary → you’re not really dating, so you can’t really be in love with him... right?

song inspo → hell of flying by jeremy zucker, cassette by demian, a lil of bugbear by chloe moriondo

this chapter → y/n comes to conclusions, keigo’s a dork, tension, a fight, crying.

So it’s been… strange.

Or rather, it hasn’t been strange at all, which makes everything even more strange, somehow. You feel like things should be so much different, but they’re not. You reached a wild conclusion that threw you for a fucking loop, made you sit in your kitchen at Angel Cakes and contemplate what the hell you were going to do about anything that would ever occur to you from here on out. Sometimes you almost ask Keigo how things haven’t changed at all, since you’ve decided that you like him, but then you have to stop yourself from saying anything because, oh, right, you haven’t told him.

You don’t plan to, either.

It’d just mess everything up, wouldn’t it? To say “hey, I know we’ve been fake dating for like two and a half months now but I’m kind of liking the idea of really dating you”? Kinda fucked. Not to mention, from a professional stance, what if it ruins your guys’ chemistry when you’re being watched by the entire world? If someone finds out that the whole thing is fake - regardless of your feelings - it means Keigo’s public image and your entire life at the bakery. Everything would go to shit, and after it’s burned down, you doubt you’d even have Keigo.

So you’re not telling him. You’re in love with one of your closest friends, who you are also fake dating, who is also the Number Two hero in the country, and you’re not telling him how you feel. Yes. Okay.

You’ve had a lot of time to reflect about your own feelings, because after Keigo left to fight that villain the other day (and after you managed to get off the ground and clean up) you were sure it was a heat-of-the-moment thing. Yeah, he looked pretty, and there was something dreamy and domestic about laughing and throwing baking ingredients at each other, so maybe your heart just got confused.

But you’d called him to ask if he was okay (instead of a usual text) and he’d picked up the phone and laughed and your heart had not done that before. Not with Keigo, not on the phone, and not like that. And usually his pet names amused you, but he’d called you “sweetheart” over the phone and his voice was tired and drawled a bit. It made you dizzy. You said goodbye pretty soon after that.

You’re barely walking up the stairs of your apartment complex when your phone buzzes in your pocket. Butterflies (and moths, a few) erupt in your stomach when you read the name, and then immediately die when you read the text itself.

keigo baby 🐦

Do u want to have a playdate with me 👉👈 I could come over if ur mom says its okay

Why him? You think to yourself, swallowing the vomit in your throat and fishing your keys out of your bag to unlock your door. You text back when you get inside, throwing your belongings on the nearest surface.

y/n

don’t ever talk to me again

keigo baby 🐦

Is that a yes??

y/n

….fine, but if u ever use those emojis again i’ll break up with u. legally

keigo baby 🐦

baby no!!!!

You throw your phone down onto your sofa before flopping over it, letting yourself sink into the cushions for a moment. It takes no more than ten minutes for Keigo to be at your door, letting himself in without so much as a knock. You know that it’s technically your doing, since you didn’t lock it when you came in, but you still whine at him about it, and he mocks you jokingly.

It seems he either senses your tiredness or didn’t have anything in mind to do anyways, because all Keigo does is lift your legs up from where they’re sprawled out on the couch and sits down in their place, letting them flop back onto his lap. He adjusts so his wings aren’t smashed against the back of the couch (or, at least, not as much). You move your feet off of his lap.

You’ve come to really appreciate days like this, where you simply bask in his company and he does yours. As much as Keigo is nonchalant about his lifestyle, you know it’s exhausting for him to do what he does every single day, and then to have to talk to people (fans, reporters, anyone). He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know. And, well, if you can give him a moment of comfort -

God, no, stop thinking like that. You can’t afford to think like that right now.

The two of you talk, occasionally sharing posts from social media and laughing at dumb little cat videos (there was one that was five whole minutes of one of the guys from that k-pop band being compared to cat pictures and it’s the most wholesome thing you’ve ever seen to date). Before you know it, it’s been a few hours, the sun just fully covered by the distant mountains. The sky cools down in purple and blue hues, dressing up for the night to come. You and Keigo are laughing over old vines, and in your mind you think that it really couldn’t be that bad for this to be every night instead of just… some nights.

At the end of the compilation Keigo groans out a lingering laugh, stretching his legs out as best he can without hitting your coffee table. You stand up, feeling the need to move around as well, and walk towards your kitchen for a drink. Keigo stands after you but doesn’t move, letting his wings flex and stretch from being contained for so long. You get a glass of water, lift it to your lips just as Keigo lifts his arms above his head and holy fucking shit, his stomach -

Tummy! the tiny voice in your head squeals, but the hornier one screams at the top of its lungs ABS and honestly you don’t know what the fuck to do and neither does your body so you choke on your water. Keigo startles, eyes wide, and with a mumbled “holy shit” makes his way over to you as you cough and sputter over your sink.

It takes a minute, but you eventually come back, eyes watery and face red for multiple reasons. You take a deep breath and Keigo rubs your back, eyeing you, which only makes the entire situation worse.

“Jesus, are you okay?” He asks, and you nod, but you can’t look at him.

“Yeah, uh,” you clear your throat, blinking a few times. “Just… went down the wrong pipe, I guess.”

Fuck.

You barely recover from seeing a sliver of Keigo’s stomach, and the memory haunts you for days. You attempt at willing it out of your brain, try to tell yourself that you just didn’t see it at all, but your heart is strong as hell and refuses to let your head forget it. You think about it multiple times a day. You think about it for at least twenty minutes each time. You think about it until Keigo texts you a little less than a week after it happened.

Your phone buzzes on the counter in the kitchen and you finish up your bread dough, putting it into a bowl gently and setting a timer to let it prove. Once your hands are effectively clean, you open the message, letting yourself scoff.

keigo baby 🐦

Just finished a photoshoot, could really use a donut right now :/

Attached to his message is a picture of himself, and honestly, he looks really fucking good. It takes pretty much everything in you not to collapse and die. God.

You look up a picture of a donut on Google - they sold out today, and you are not going to make one just for Keigo - and send it to him. For my hardworking fake boyfriend, you send with it. Mostly to emphasize fake for both of you. Yourself especially.

keigo baby 🐦

Fake??? :( sweetheart, u hurt me

Your mind stops working when you read his text, so you leave him on read.

The next time you see Keigo in person is when you’re contemplating whether or not you should keep… hanging out with him.

The contract only has a little over a month left, so it’s not as if it’d be that hard to deal with… besides, it’d be easier on the both of you when this whole thing inevitably ends. You don’t see yourself being able to be around him without thinking about kissing him over and over. Not now, at least. You hope it changes. You hope it’s a weird phase or something.

Keigo texts you and invites - demands - you over (his excuse is that with the hero conference coming up soon many of the smaller heroes are taking care of villains and giving him more time off) and honestly, if you’re really gonna try to stop talking to him as much, this could be your goodbye or whatever. Also, he mentioned wine, and you need to get drunk. Like, “give me an entire bottle so I can cope with the idea of falling for you because I know that you don’t feel the same and I am simply trying to ride out the rest of this “relationship” so I don’t ruin our dynamic and chemistry while we’re being watched by literally the entire world” drunk.

Yeah. It’s been a rough few weeks.

Every time you go to Keigo’s apartment it reminds you of just how broke you are, but you suppose the apartment itself is fitting. It’s definitely modern, but it holds the clutter of Keigo’s personality - blankets strung everywhere, LED lights, a poster of Endeavor hung up in his closet (but you’re sworn to secrecy about that, you pinky promised). When you knock on his door he doesn’t answer, and it’s a good minute and a half before you get a text that says “it’s open, come in” and you sigh, because again, why him?

He’s sitting on the couch, and when he sees you he smiles like he didn’t just refuse to open the door because he’s too lazy. “Well, if it isn’t the love of my life,” he says, and for a second you can fool yourself into believing it’s genuine.

“I’m just here for the wine, dude,” you tease, and he mocks offense at your words.

“Ouch. Mid-relationship rejection.”

Nonetheless, Keigo gets the wine himself (selective little shit) and two glasses, pours each of you one. It isn’t long before you’ve had at least three glasses but no more than five, and you’re maybe, perhaps, a little drunk.

Keigo is, too, so you’re not really alone, but he’s talking about something Endeavor did like he’s the greatest hero in the world. It makes you smile, just a bit, but then again, you’re usually sentimental when you’re drunk, so maybe it’s just that. Or maybe it’s because you like him. It doesn’t really matter now.

“Hey, Kei,” you murmur when he’s done with his story. He hums, takes another sip out of his glass. “What happens when this is over?”

You look at your feet, scrunching up your toes inside your socks so you have something to look at. Then your eyes move up more, to the top of his coffee table, and then finally they land on him, and he looks gorgeous. He always does.

Keigo blinks once, twice, then shrugs, goes back to his wine. “Dunno. I hope we’re still friends, though,” he says.

“Friends? You want to be friends?”

You’re drunk. You should go to sleep, or go home, or something. Talking is not something you should be doing.

“What?” Keigo asks, but more like he didn’t hear you rather than he didn’t understand, so you take your chance, even through your hazed mind.

“Nothing,” you say, swirling the wine in your glass. “Forget about it.”

And it seems like he does, because when you wake up on his couch the next morning with a killer headache and he stumbles out of his room with a groan he doesn’t mention anything about it even when he talks about everything else.

Keigo texts you a few days later, a picture of him posing with another wine bottle.

keigo baby 🐦

round 2??

The picture is cute. He’s smiling, all lips and curves and blonde hair and tan skin. He’s dressed in sweats, you can see, but he still looks like a model. It makes your heart sink and fly at the same time.

y/n

can’t, sorry. have to stay late at angel cakes. i’ll see u at the hero conference tho

He doesn’t text you for a while after that.

The conference comes quick, and before you know it you’re in another hotel suite, getting makeup done. It doesn’t take as much dressing up - your dress is shorter this time, less formal, your makeup less extravagant. You don’t feel nervous, not like last time, but you don’t necessarily feel comfortable either. Your makeup artist is different this time.

It takes a considerably less amount of time for you to get ready, and you stare at yourself in the mirror before it’s time to go. Your dress is beautiful - blue, royal, deep and light at the same time and gorgeous. Simple, too, nothing too out there. When you step out of the hotel room you notice Keigo’s still in his hero costume, but you suppose he has to be. You don’t match with him like you did last time.

There’s no banter, no teasing, no compliments. The ride to the venue is quiet. Keigo sends you a look at one point - a “tell me what’s wrong” look - but you only shrug, offer him the best smile you can, which apparently isn’t convincing, because he frowns when he sees it. You wish he wouldn’t frown so much.

The conference is short, but maybe you’re just distracted. An usher walks you to your seat at a VIP table and it seems like you sit down and then it ends. You clap for Keigo, smile like you’re endlessly proud of him - and you are, even if it doesn’t show that well tonight - and watch him make a scene becuase that’s what he does. He winks at you at one point during the night, while he’s talking into the microphone, and you know it’s for the publicity. The conference ends significantly earlier than the awards show, however, so you don’t have to stay in the suite for the night.

The ride back to the suite seems shorter than the ride to the venue and it takes you maybe twenty minutes to wipe the makeup off of your face and take off your dress. You walk across the hall to Keigo’s room, knock on the door. He answers.

“Okay, I’m gonna head out, I’m feelin’ kinda tired,” you tell him with a small smile. “Just wanted to say bye.”

“Let me walk you home,” he says instead, and your brain yells at you no!

“No, it’s fine, Kei -”

“Please. I want to.”

He’s never said that before, and a part of you knows you wouldn’t be able to say no to him even if he hadn’t, so you nod and let him follow you out of the hotel and to your apartment. The walk is silent and it makes you feel uneasy but you can’t really do anything about it, not with what you’re trying to do, so nothing happens until you reach your apartment.

You know where this is going, even if you don’t want to, so you take a deep breath, hold the door open for him so Keigo can come inside. He looks at you weirdly for a moment but then enters your apartment, standing in the junction of your entryway and living room like he’s uncomfortable. You let him, then walk to the kitchen for something to drink.

“What’s wrong with you?” You ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

Keigo scoffs. “Shouldn’t that be my line?”

You know he noticed - it’s impossible not to, but you didn’t think… you didn’t think he’d call you out on it. Your pause is evident, but you pretend like it didn’t happen at all. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say.

“Yeah? Wanna rethink that, sweetheart?”

The almost-malice in his tone when he says your usual pet name startles you, and when you look up at Keigo it seems like it startled him, too, doe-eyed and looking at you. You shake your head, walking out of the kitchen and into the living room behind him to throw your things down, try to pass the message to him that this is not good. “You’re wrong,” you say.

“I’m not - I’m not wrong, Y/N,” he says, turning around to look at you. “Every time I see you it seems like you’re pushing me away, like you’re not here, and I don’t know if I did something, but I -” he pauses, runs a gloved hand over his face and you want to tell him that it’s not his fault, but that would lead to you telling him everything, and you can’t. “I miss you.”

His voice is broken. When you speak again, your voice sounds like his, but somehow worse. Smaller. “You’re wrong,” you insist. You know he’s not.

“I’m not,” he pushes back. “I’d like to think that in the months we’ve been -”

He stops himself, and you take your opportunity. “That we’ve been what? Dating? We’re not dating, Keigo, we both signed a fucking contract to benefit your public image! This is nothing!”

You have no idea what you’re doing. It’s not nothing. It will never be nothing.

“You think this is nothing?”

“Look me in the eye and tell me that you know for sure we’ll still be friends when this is over.”

He can’t, and he won’t. You’re trying really hard not to cry, but it hurts to fight with him like this, and it hurts that you think you’re falling in love with him, and it hurts that if you tell him it’ll ruin everything and it hurts, so a few tears slip out anyways.

“Y/N,” Keigo says, and his voice is so soft. You want to melt into him, but you shy away when he reaches for you. “Please just tell me -”

“I can’t do this anymore,” you choke out. “I can’t - I’m - I’m calling it. I’ll send my lawyer if you need anything but I just…”

You can’t even look at him. Has he always been so far away?

“Get out, Keigo.”

It sounds so cold, so unfamiliar, coming from your mouth and you half expect another person to have said it entirely. This isn’t you, this isn’t how you and Keigo act, this isn’t… this isn’t it. There’s a pause, like he’s waiting for something, but then you hear him sigh - practically feel him deflate, and then he walks out of your apartment, door shutting quietly behind him.

It’s so quiet when he’s gone.

You take a deep breath, walk back to your bedroom, curl into yourself on the bed, and cry in the blue light of the sky left behind by the sun.

#GUYS I LOVE ANGST I HOPE I HYPED THIS UP ENOUGH #AHHHHHHH #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia imagine #my hero academia imagine #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks x reader #bnha hawks x reader #hawks bnha x reader #keigo takami imagine #x reader #reader insert #imagine #tcoy #the color of you

348 notes · View notes