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m1ckeyb3rry · 5 months ago

Note

hii, i was wondering if i could submit a request for a fic🤔I don't rlly have any specific prompt but i want it to be about karasu or zantetsu, either one is fine. i've read all of ur karasu fics and they're so good! i love ur writing sm!! if u don't want to i totally understand but i also just want to tell u that i think ur writing is awesome (^◡^)

Synopsis: You become taken with your coworker’s roommate, Karasu, unaware that he’s just as fascinated by you — and maybe he has been for longer than you realize.

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 8.6k

Content Warnings: relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…, <- never thought i’d be using THAT for a karasu fic, i’m bored of normal karasu characterization so i made him ooc, he’s like fr a weirdo icl, otoya catches strays, yukimiya is just trying to get through the workday, reader is a model, reader’s feet are mentioned a lot?? not sexually in the slightest (they’re injured so she complains abt them) but i mean it’s there ig if you’re a hater, very vague and unfinished feeling not on purpose i just gave up tbh

A/N: you sent this to me so long ago idek if you remember it LMAOAOAO i am so sorry i like fell off the face of the earth in terms of answering requests but HERE IT IS erm sorry it actually highkey sucks but at least karasu is in it…i guess…UGHHHH I HATE THIS BUT I COULDN’T KEEP PROCRASTINATING IT YOU LITERALLY SENT THIS IN THE BEGINNING OF AUGUST I’M SO SORRY MY DEAR but also tysm HAHHA you are very sweet!! i’m glad you like my writing and once again i am sorry for disappearing…

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

You had never seen the man leaning against the wall behind the camera before. He wore a dark trench coat and a plaid scarf looped around his neck, and unlike everyone else bustling about the set, barking out orders and shoving each other into place, he was entirely calm. In his right hand, he held his phone, scrolling through something on it with his thumb, and in between his teeth was a lollipop — cherry flavored, which you only knew because of the wrapper lying at his feet.

“That’s not Yukimiya, right?” you whispered to the girl who was buttoning up the back of your top.

“Hm?” she said. “No, Mr. Yukimiya hasn’t checked in yet. I have no idea who that is.”

He was tall, with wide shoulders and the type of face that must have been crafted with painstaking detail by someone or another, his features keen, his eyes a brilliant shade of blue so dark they were nearly violet or black. Dark hair fell into darker eyebrows like the ink of a ballpoint pen on a paper-pale forehead, and just above his left cheekbone was a black beauty mark, which changed everything and yet nothing about him.

You supposed he must’ve sensed your gaze lingering on him, for he furrowed his brow and then lifted his chin, scanning the room before his eyes meet yours. He didn’t seem offended by the prying, his lips curling into a smile as he lifted his left hand into a jaunty wave, returning his attention to whatever he was reading on his phone before you could respond in turn or do anything to feel less like you had been caught committing some crime.

“I’m sorry I’m late!”

This must’ve been Kenyu Yukimiya, your partner for the shoot. He was handsome, too, with a harried, windswept appearance to his reddened cheeks and tousled hair; when he grinned at you apologetically, he was entirely reminiscent of a painting from antiquity.

He sat in the chair next to you as the makeup team got to work, applying the faintest touch of product so that he was not entirely washed out by the blinding lights of the cameras in your faces. You returned his smile with one of your own, polite and careful.

“Luckily, the director hasn’t arrived yet, so it’s not a problem,” you said. “Apparently, he’s strict on everyone but himself.”

Yukimiya winced as a heap of clothes was thrown at him and the finishing touches were placed on his chestnut hair. You watched him with amusement, your hands folded in your lap as he was yanked to his feet.

“Guess I got lucky this time, then,” he said, stumbling into the dressing room, the door slamming shut behind him. You stood yourself, stretching your arms and legs with a deep breath, rolling your ankles in the air, alternating as you did so, and then pacing back and forth in an attempt to accustom yourself to the monstrosities that your feet had been shoved into.

The man in the corner didn’t seem affected by the chaos Yukimiya’s appearance had thrown everyone into. You thought you saw something like a snort escape him, but otherwise he was calm — although you noticed he had tucked his phone away and shoved his hands in his pockets, opting to instead observe his surroundings with a soft curiosity.

You turned away before he could shift his attention to you once again, because your pride could not handle being caught by him a second time, and you pretended like you were entirely fascinated with putting one foot in front of the other, walking in a line so straight it was as if it had been drawn with a ruler.

Yukimiya reappeared completely ready a few seconds later, tying the laces of his dress shoes and then joining you at your side, although of course he did not need to practice walking or anything so silly. Like most men, he had been afforded the luxury of comfort; he wasn’t the showpiece of this edition, after all. You were, and so you were the one made up into a spectacle beyond natural ability or attempt.

“Everyone, in your places!” the director shouted as he entered the studio, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the other on his hip. He was diminutive in stature and wore a ridiculously feathered hat, but what he lacked in height, he more than made up for in position, so nobody would dare to say that to him, least of all you, who could so easily be replaced.

Still, for one final time, you allowed yourself to look at the man standing all by himself, wondering if he’d offer some reaction to the getup, some indication that you weren’t alone in your feelings. You weren’t sure why it was him who you sought out; perhaps because he, unlike everyone else, was a mystery, an enigma, and so while you could map out without knowing what all the other faces in the room looked like at that moment, you needed to see his to understand it.

He wrinkled his nose into a snicker, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe his eyes, and then he took his phone back out of his pocket, maybe to give himself an excuse for laughing. It wasn’t like he really needed an excuse, because no one else was even looking at him, but then again, there was never any harm in caution.

“You’re Y/N L/N, right?” Yukimiya said to you, his hand on your shoulder as you faced the camera, waiting for the director to adjust your stances. “It’s a pleasure. I’m surprised this is the first time we’re actually talking.”

“The pleasure is mine,” you said. “And yes, it’s a wonder we haven’t worked together before, given how frequently I’ve heard your name mentioned. I’m looking forward to it.”

Something about Yukimiya served to enhance everyone he was around, and so, instead of stealing the attention from you, he somehow managed to direct the spotlight so that it shone only on your placid face. You had been expecting the opposite, but you weren’t angry about it; in fact, you couldn’t have been more pleased. It was always the worst thing when your coworker was jostling you out of the way for a few extra seconds in front of the cameras, and you thought to yourself that you’d have to find some way of ensuring you were booked with him more often.

“Amazing! I don’t think I’ve ever been so quickly satisfied by a shoot!” the director said, clapping his hands together and nodding at you both. “Excellent work. I think we can wrap up for the day. I’ll see you two here at the same time tomorrow!”

“Wow,” Yukimiya said as everyone started disassembling the set. “I thought you said he was strict.”

You shrugged as you walked over to the dressing rooms. “I thought he was.”

“Well, we probably shouldn’t complain,” he said. “Between this and practice, my schedule is booked. I have no space to be ungrateful about a little extra time.”

“Very true,” you said. “It’s always nice when things like this end sooner than anticipated. Better than later, anyways.”

The first thing you took off were those excuses for shoes, kicking them under the door for good measure and shoving your feet into a pair of fluffy slippers, wiggling your toes with a sigh. Peeling off every layer you had squeezed into for the sake of the director’s creative vision, you curled up on the bench in only your underwear, sipping on water through a metal straw and staring at the wall, hugging your knees to your chest, lost in thinking about nothing.

Only when you grew cold did you stand, pulling on a sweatshirt three sizes too large and sweatpants that puddled at your shoes, shielding you from the world as you trudged out of the dressing room, wanting to rub your eyes but knowing that you would smear makeup all over the backs of your hands. You settled instead for playing with the thread you had taped to the handle of your water bottle for exactly such an occasion, twirling the loose ends of the meticulous knots in between your fingers idly.

“Ah — L/N!” Yukimiya waved at you as you made your way towards the exit. Unaccustomed to further camaraderie after the end of the workday, you had to fight to keep your expression neutral, and when you noticed the man from earlier was at Yukimiya’s side, the lollipop long gone, you had to fight even harder.

“Is something the matter?” you said.

“No, nothing at all,” he said. “I just figured we might as well walk to the parking garage together, since it’s late and all.”

“I appreciate it,” you said. The studio you were at had only one security guard in its employ, a man that inspired pity more than fear, with a few strands of hair glued into a desperate attempt at a combover and a shirt that was far too thin to be considered professional, so you hadn’t even considered asking for an escort, figuring you would take your chances. Still, the thought of walking alone wasn’t the most appealing, and while you wouldn’t have asked for it yourself, you were glad Yukimiya had offered his company nonetheless.

“Oh! Karasu, this is Y/N L/N. L/N, this is Tabito Karasu,” Yukimiya said as you reached the door and the other man — Karasu — used one black-gloved hand to open it.

“Is he your bodyguard or something? Thank you,” you said, nodding at Karasu for holding the door.

“He wishes,” Karasu said. His voice was rough and deep and sounded like he was perpetually in on some private joke, but you didn’t mind it, not in the slightest. “I’m his roommate — the one with a car, by the way. And a driver’s license. And the time to pick his sorry ass up.”

“What he means is that he offered to stop by on his way home to get me,” Yukimiya said.

“That’s very generous of you,” you said. “Especially considering you were there even before Yukimiya was.”

“Don’t you think? It’s fine, now he owes me one,” Karasu said, his eyes glimmering. “And I intend to collect, of course.”

“He never does anything out of the goodness of his heart,” Yukimiya said with a long-suffering sigh. “You better be careful around him, L/N. Whatever he gives you, he’ll expect the same in return.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, though of course you had no intentions of ever being around Karasu in any way that mattered.

“We play soccer for the Japanese team, you know,” Karasu said. “You should come to one of our games, L/N. I’m sure some of our teammates would be delighted by that. Right, Yuki?”

Yukimiya sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “If you’re talking about Otoya and Aiku, then yes, but that’s not necessarily a good thing.”

“Not for her, it isn’t,” Karasu said. “For them, sure it is. But I wasn’t talking about those two, anyways.”

“Pardon?” you said.

“Ignore him,” Yukimiya said. “I don’t really know what he’s going on about.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Karasu said, picking up before Yukimiya on the fact that your steps had stuttered to a stop. “L/N, was it?”

He offered you his hand. You took it and shook, arching a brow at the firmness of his grip, which was much more in line with a businessman than a soccer player.

“Yes,” you said. “Karasu? It was nice to meet you as well.”

“Don’t worry,” Yukimiya said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ll make my other roommate pick me up tomorrow.”

“Otoya?” Karasu said. “Good luck with that. He’ll be late to his own funeral, so don’t think you’re high on his priority list. The only time he comes early is—”

“Karasu,” Yukimiya interjected. “Don’t be crass.”

“Sure, sure,” he said. “See you around, L/N. Or maybe not.”

“See you,” you said, starting your car so that it wasn’t freezing when you got in, deciding it wouldn’t be polite to tack on a definitely not to the farewell and instead opting to stay silent.

“Bye, L/N,” Yukimiya said. “Until tomorrow.”

Although your apartment wasn’t large by any means, it wasn’t small, either, sitting at a comfortable medium that was paid for half by you and half by your brother, who was hardly ever home, anyways, but needed somewhere for his mail to be delivered. He was a free spirit, always traveling: for work, for fun, for women and wine, for anything his heart desired, which left you the entire space to yourself more often than not. People were jealous of you when they found out, but when you sat on the couch alone, a blanket pulled up around your shoulders and a bowl of salad held in between your knees, the television on only to ward away the silence that permeated the room, you wondered what they had to be jealous of.

The next day, you didn’t look for Karasu when you entered the studio, but you knew as you stepped in that he wasn’t there. There was something missing, the room a little brighter without him in the corner, waiting with an unmatched patience for Yukimiya to be done. Yukimiya must’ve made good on his threat, then, to call their other roommate to pick him up, although privately you wondered why he couldn’t just drive himself.

The shoot went even smoother the second day than it had the first, and it was a surprise the director didn’t fall to your feet and grovel at the speed with which you executed his vision. Yukimiya struck that perfect balance of workmanlike and personable, and you were content to play along with him, so all in all things moved with relative swiftness.

When you went to leave, you noticed that Yukimiya was standing by the door on his own, tapping his phone furiously. You were under no obligation to stop, but for some reason, you did, waiting awkwardly for a second before clearing your throat.

“Is everything alright?” you said. He startled, almost dropping his phone as he blinked at you.

“Yes! Yes, it’s fine, it’s just my roommate is a jerk, that’s all. Last night, he told me he was fine with picking me up, but now all of a sudden he’s busy,” he said with a scoff.

“Otoya, right?” you said. Yukimiya cocked his head.

“Yes, how’d you know?” he said.

“Karasu — your other roommate mentioned him yesterday,” you said, correcting yourself so that it didn’t seem like Karasu was someone you paid special attention to. Judging by Yukimiya’s expression, you didn’t think you had been entirely successful in the attempt, which was unlike you. You bit the tip of your tongue so that you didn’t say anything further, waiting for him to respond.

“Right,” he said.

“Why don’t you drive yourself?” you said, crossing your arms and standing beside him, facing the road as he was.

“I can’t,” he said.

“You never learned?” you said. He shook his head, adjusting his glasses self-consciously.

“It’s not recommended I do,” he said. He didn’t elaborate further, but he didn’t have to; you recognized it wasn’t your place and hummed in acknowledgement.

“If you want, I don’t mind taking you,” you said. You didn’t know where Yukimiya lived — for all you knew, it was across the city entirely — but it didn’t hurt to extend your hand like that, especially because you had a sense that he wouldn’t even accept it.

“It’s alright,” Yukimiya said. “Karasu said he’s on his way, since last he checked, Otoya’s in the shower now, for some reason.”

“Oh,” you said. “That’s kind of him.”

“Kind?” Yukimiya said, and then to your surprise, he laughed. “I wish I knew as little about him as you do.”

“Is he a bad person?” you said.

“Not at all,” Yukimiya said. “He’s great. He’s one of my best friends, in fact; it’s just that kind and Karasu rarely if ever go together in the same sentence.”

“How can someone be your best friend if you don’t even think they’re kind?” you said, intrigued by the puzzle Yukimiya had presented you with. The way he spoke of Karasu, it was as if he were some willful spirit that occasionally deigned to lend his aid to those who could bring him some benefit, but the way the two of them treated one another didn’t seem anything like that.

“I don’t know,” Yukimiya said. “If you knew him better, I wouldn’t have to explain this. He’s a hard person to understand, and just when you think you’ve finally got it, he goes and complicates things further.”

“That sounds exhausting,” you said.

“That’s the strangest thing about it all,” Yukimiya said as a car pulled up in front of you both, the hazard lights turning on. “With him, it’s entirely natural.”

Karasu stepped out of the driver’s side, shutting it behind him and joining the two of you on the curb, grinning at Yukimiya in a way that almost felt mocking.

“Told you Otoya wasn’t to be trusted,” he said. “You’re paying for dinner.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yukimiya said, tossing his bag at Karasu, who caught it without flinching. “Put this in for me.”

“Whatever you say,” Karasu said, opening the back door of the car and throwing the bag onto the floor before slamming it shut and patting the handle for good measure. “Is that everything, your royal highness?”

“Yes,” Yukimiya said. “I’m going to kill Otoya when we get back.”

“Hm,” Karasu said. “Violent.”

“He deserves it,” Yukimiya said. “Bye, L/N. Thanks for waiting with me.”

“It’s not an issue,” you said, especially because you hadn’t done it on purpose, and even if you had, it hadn’t been for him. “I’m glad everything worked out.”

You wanted to say something more, something to Karasu in particular, but you didn’t know what or how. It wasn’t like you knew him — not a little and not at all, as Yukimiya had pointed out, and indeed you had no reason to speak to him in the first place. He wasn’t anything but your coworker’s roommate, so what did he mean to you?

Yukimiya shut his door with a hurried apology about the cold, and then it was just you and Karasu on the curb, and you couldn’t tell why, but the way he looked at you made you think he could hear every thought which was racing through your mind.

“Yukimiya’s right. It’s cold out,” he said. “You should go home now.”

“I’m just about to,” you said.

“Are you?” he said.

“Why are you questioning that?” you said, surprisingly affronted, although he hadn’t said anything insulting. “Of course I am. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

“I’m not questioning anything,” he said. “Drive safely.”

“Wait,” you said. “Will you be here tomorrow?”

“Would you prefer it if I am?” he said.

“I’d prefer it if you answered my questions instead of coming up with more of your own,” you said, which you thought would be met with shock — after all, it was a rare thing that you broke character and said anything that could be perceived as cutting — but was instead received with a snicker.

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll be here tomorrow. Early, if that’s what you want.”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” you said. “Do what you’d like.”

“I think that I will,” he said, and then Yukimiya was rolling down the window, telling him to hurry up, damnit, so he left you behind without another word, the car’s engine purring as they drove away.

You must’ve looked like such a fool the next morning, the final of the shoot, your eyes immediately going to the corner where Karasu had been that first day. It was empty, and despite yourself, your shoulders slumped when you realized that he wasn’t there, which was enough for you to break out of that strange trance. Why had you even hoped in the first place? He had made no indication that he was going to come, and you were old enough to know that hoping and wishing were certain paths to disappointment.

“Do you want me to take you back tonight?” you asked Yukimiya, sitting in a chair beside him as you waited for the director to come. It was a clumsy and roundabout way of getting to what you actually wanted out of him, but the last thing you could do was tell him the truth. What would he say, if he knew why you were actually offering? What would he think of you then?

“Hm? No, it’s fine, Karasu’s already got it. He’s at the gym with Shidou — er, another teammate of ours — right now, but he’ll be done before we are, and the studio’s closer to the gym than our apartment is, so he told me it wouldn’t be any extra trouble,” he said, and you thought he must’ve added those extra details for the sole purpose of seeing what your response to them would be, but then you remembered that Yukimiya wasn’t that kind of person. He was just telling you as a way to fill the time, not to get one over you or anything like that.

“That’s good,” you said. “Convenient.”

“Yup,” Yukimiya said. “My agent told me we’d be doing individual photos today.”

“Huh?” you said. “Oh, right. Yes, I think that’s the case.”

“That’s a shame. I enjoyed working with you,” he said.

“Me, too,” you said, and unlike most times, you weren’t lying when you did. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon, though. There’s not so many of us our age.”

“True,” he said. “It’s a given.”

“Exactly,” you said.

“Yukimiya! You’re up first!” the director shouted, entering as he always did — like a whirlwind, leaving papers scattered and assistants flustered in his wake.

“That’s my cue,” Yukimiya said with a long-suffering sigh.

“Good luck,” you said, glad that it wasn’t your turn just yet. The shoes you were meant to wear sat innocently before you, about two feet away, and although it was impossible for inanimate objects to be snide, they were quite close to it, glaring at you with their bejeweled straps and their impossible tall heels, tittering between themselves at the thought of the cuts already forming on your ankles, the bandages you’d have to remove in order for those terrors to slide on without fuss.

You set your water bottle on the armrest of your chair, taking up the thread and crossing it over itself in the patterns you had been taught in elementary school. You didn’t have anyone to tie these bracelets around, and you couldn’t wear them yourself, for they’d be cut away almost immediately, but the repetitive motions soothed your mind, distracting you from the red soaking through your white socks.

“L/N!” the director screamed, even though you were sitting right there and could hear him perfectly fine. “Put your damn shoes on and get the hell up here!”

Without Yukimiya there to soften the blow, you were the direct target of all of his anger. Swallowing back every emotion you had ever felt and would ever feel, you bent over and began to rip the nude-colored band-aids, stained rusty at the edges, off. Balling them up and throwing them in the trash, you stood on aching soles and pulled the shoes on, one after another, clenching your teeth and taking off your sweater so that you could waltz over to where the cameras were trained.

“Took you long enough,” the director groused.

“Yes, sir,” you said. “How should I stand?”

“Just put your hands there, and your one leg there,” the director said vaguely, waving his arms about before striking what must’ve been an approximation of the pose he wanted you to take. You did your best to copy it, and the cameras went off, your vision temporarily fleeing and then coming back in spots as the lights faded. “No!”

“No?” you said.

“That’s all wrong! It’s horrible, horrible — you’re not even trying to do what I asked!” he said. “Yukimiya could do it, so why can’t you? Just do this!”

He did the same thing again. You weren’t sure what else you could adjust, but you moved slightly, twisting your torso at a different angle and smiling without your teeth this time. He grunted and motioned for the cameras to go again, but after a few more photos, he groaned, dragging his face over his hands.

“This is horrendous! You look entirely stiff and posed. It’s like you're a mannequin!” he said.

“I don’t — I’m not — what should I fix?” you said, unable to stop nerves from creeping into your voice and jostling it about. As difficult as he was to work with, you knew that the director was a big name in the industry, and if he only had bad things to say about you, then your entire livelihood would be threatened.

“Ugh!” he said, stomping onto the set and grabbing your arm, wrenching it down so hard you were surprised it didn’t dislocate. You chewed on the frayed flesh of the inside of your cheek to keep from yelping, allowing yourself to be pliable as he dragged your leg forward into what he wanted from you. “It’s like you’re a completely different person today! Just disappointing.”

Whatever position he had coerced you into was nothing like the one he had wanted you to imitate, but you refrained from pointing that out, holding it in place while the photographers adjusted their lenses. It was uncomfortable and made the lace lining your collar dig into your throat even more, but at least that served as a reminder for you to be silent.

“That’s enough,” the director said, massaging his temples. “We’re not getting anything more out of you.”

“What?” you said, standing normally, tired of contorting yourself for the impossible-to-please man. “What do you mean?”

“You’re lifeless. I don’t know how you managed to fool me yesterday and the day before, but I see it now. Honestly, if it weren’t for the concerning accusations I’d face, I’d just dig up a grave and pay the families half the royalties. It’d be a cheaper and better performance than whatever you’re giving me,” he said.

“What?” you said again, shame pouring over you, cold in a way that was closer to heat, ringing in your ears and coating your tongue. You couldn’t think of another response, any other way to defend yourself. If he was saying it, then it really was the truth. You swallowed, about to bow your head and shuffle off of the set for good, but then, like a bird in your peripheral vision, you noticed someone standing in the corner.

It was Karasu, and he was muffling a laugh. When he noticed you were looking at him, he dropped his hand from in front of his mouth and jerked his head towards the director, mouthing something that looked suspiciously like get a load of this guy. Your eyes widened, and then you, too, were fighting back a giggle, because you were so tired of the entire charade and your feet hurt and you wanted to go home and sleep for a few hours but this director, this stupid fucking director, couldn’t make up his mind about what he wanted from you. And now your career was ruined and you’d go back to waiting tables and Karasu was standing there, which was ridiculous, because where had even come from? But, then again, did it matter? Because the most amazing thing of all was that he was laughing. The situation was horrible and he was laughing as if it was the most entertaining moment of his life.

“There!”

You cringed as the cameras went off in quick succession, but they were faster than you, and you knew for sure they had caught you before you had cowered away. The director stroked his chin, and then, to your surprise, clicked his tongue in approval.

“Well done,” he said. “That’s the kind of genuine appeal I was looking for. If you can bring more of that to the table, then anyone would be happy to have you.”

You frowned, his sudden switch in mood giving you whiplash. Only seconds earlier, he had been berating you, and now he was praising you? You couldn’t understand what had brought about the change, but you were at least quick enough to not question it.

“Thank you,” you said. “I appreciate the advice. And the opportunity to work with you.”

“I’ll hire you again,” he said, which sounded as much like a threat as it did a promise. “We’ll bring it out of you. Now that I know what you’re capable of, I won’t rest until I’ve perfected it in the way only I can.”

The thought of being perfected by him, molded and shaped and honed, was the most unappealing you had had in a while. You could imagine him tugging your limbs out of their sockets, rearranging them at his leisure, slicing gashes into your skin so that his clothes and accessories sat better, smoother, without unappealing wrinkles or reflections marring their surfaces.

“Thank you,” you said once more. “It’s an honor.”

“Are you alright?” Yukimiya said when you wobbled over to where your shoes and clothes were strewn about.

“I’m fine,” you said, but you weren’t looking at him. Your distracted eyes were following Karasu as he left the studio, your eyebrows knitting together as you tried to ascertain what the point of him even coming inside had been, if he was going to leave without you — without Yukimiya.

He didn’t come for you, a voice in the back of your head, sounding eerily similar to the director’s, said. He came to pick up his roommate, just like he promised he would.

“I can’t believe he chose you as his favorite. Maybe you’ll be his muse for the next few years!” Yukimiya said. The director was known for picking one model to fixate on for an extended period of time. His every project revolved around them, and they were catapulted into unprecedented stardom under his guiding hand, staying there until their retirement. It was everyone’s dream, and you should’ve been happy at the prospect of being next in that line, but when you beamed at Yukimiya, it was fake, the muscles in your mouth straining at the unnatural position you were putting them into.

“Who knows?” you said. “I don’t want to rely on it. It’s not a guarantee.”

“Smart idea,” he said, scrunching up his face. “I’m sorry. I’m used to soccer more than all of this. Everyone’s very…full of themselves.”

“You’re not full of yourself,” you said, shutting the door of your dressing room behind you and calling through it as you changed, hoping to delay him even slightly.

“You’ve never seen me on the field,” he said. “There, everyone’s different. You have to be, if you want to live. Ego’s a form of survival out there.”

“Doesn’t sound much different than modeling,” you said.

“A little different,” he said. “People here are just vain. That’s not the same.”

You hadn’t ever gotten changed so quickly, but in record time, you were swinging your bag over your shoulder and rejoining Yukimiya, who seemed as surprised as you were that you had finished so quickly. After all, you had a bit of a reputation for…sulking? Brooding? You weren’t sure what word they were using for it nowadays, but regardless, your proclivity for sitting in your dressing room in silence was well-known, as much a part of your character as it was a habit.

“You’re not wrong about that,” you said. “But vanity’s a necessary evil, I think. If you want to succeed.”

“Er, right,” he said, standing in place like he was unsure of how to react. “I suppose so.”

When you did not halt but instead kept moving towards the exit, he straightened and hurried after you. You weren’t going very fast, and his strides were so long that he caught up with you before you could even brace for the biting wind that rushed in as soon as you opened the door. The two of you went along in silence, Yukimiya obviously befuddled why you were still with him but too polite to say anything about it, and it was only when you reached the entrance to the parking garage, where a familiar car was waiting, that you allowed yourself to smile.

“Man, talk about an asshole,” Karasu said, stretching like a cat as he got out of the still-running sedan. “That director is a piece of work.”

“Karasu!” Yukimiya reprimanded, which got him nothing but a sly smile from the man in question. “He’s our boss. We can’t say stuff like that about him.”

“He’s your boss,” Karasu corrected. “So you can’t say stuff like that. I can say whatever I want.”

“You’re going to get me fired,” Yukimiya said. “It’s a good thing I have soccer to fall back on, or else I’d be in trouble.”

“Go sit in the car, then, if you want to stay blameless,” Karasu said.

“I will! And you better not bother poor L/N. I don’t want her to have a bad opinion of all of us just because of you,” Yukimiya said, jabbing his finger at Karasu, who raised his hands in the air innocently.

Today, he wore a white windbreaker over a grey shirt, and because he was not wearing gloves, you could see that there were calluses on his palms, standing out pale at the seams of his fingers. You weren’t used to seeing calluses on anyone, not when the few people you met on a semi-regular basis took such diligent measures to prevent them, but now that you were faced with them sans demonization, you found their roughness was warm and friendly, not hideous.

“He was pretty bad,” you mumbled as soon as Yukimiya had shut himself away in the car.

“Yuki, or the director?” Karasu said.

“Don’t be horrible,” you said. “You know who I’m talking about.”

“I can’t believe he compared you to a dead body,” Karasu said.

“That’s not the worst I’ve gotten,” you said. “It took me by surprise because things had been going so well until then, but he was relatively tame, all things considered.”

“Really?” Karasu said.

“Yes,” you said, dropping your voice to a murmur in case anyone was around, not wanting to give yourself a reputation as a whiner. “Once, someone asked me if my mother was a fish, because there was no other explanation for how I was flopping around.”

“That’s rude,” he said.

“It was!” you said. No one had ever listened to you before, least of all with such a benign expression on their face, and you were so starved of it that you could not contain yourself any longer. “Especially because I was standing still, not flopping around or whatever. Honestly, I wanted to ask him if his mother was a fish, because you know what? There was no other explanation for how he smelled!”

“Horrid!” Karasu said, beaming at you. “You should’ve.”

“Oh, no, no, I couldn’t. I shouldn’t even have said it to you,” you said, shaking your head and pressing your hands over your mouth, unsure of any other method of stopping yourself that would be nearly as effective.

“But you did,” he said, zipping up his jacket in a swift movement. “I’ll think of something about myself to tell you in return. Give me a day or two.”

“That’s not why I did that,” you protested. “And we don’t have a day or two, anyways, so you’ll have to do it now or never again.”

“Sure we do,” he said. “We live in the same city, don’t we? I bet our paths will cross. Where do you go grocery shopping?”

“Grocery shopping?” you said.

“Karasu! You’re low on gas!” Yukimiya said, rolling down his window.

“I go to the place across from the park on South 18th Street. Every Thursday after practice,” Karasu said. “Meet all sorts of people there. Never know who I’m going to run into.”

You could picture exactly the store he was talking about; it wasn’t where you typically went, but sometimes, if you were running low on something hard to find, you’d walk the extra few blocks. It was much bigger than the one close to your apartment, after all, and suddenly you wondered if you had seen Karasu there before, if you had seen him ten or twenty times and just not noticed.

“When do you finish practice?” you said, right before he got into his car.

“Lunchtime,” he said. “I’m hungry more often than not.”

“It’s not good to shop for food when you’re hungry,” you said.

“Then I’ll have to do something about it before I do,” he said. “Well, it depends. Only if I have good company.”

You didn’t realize until you were halfway home what he meant by that, and by then it was too late for you to change your mind — not that you would’ve. Not that you needed to. He wasn’t holding you to anything, even though you knew as well as he did that you would be there; still, ultimately it was your decision. Your choice.

That was a strange characteristic of his, one that Yukimiya hadn’t mentioned. Karasu didn’t ask for things; he didn’t command them, either. He only made suggestions, nudging you along until you reached the destination that he wanted you to arrive at. You had never met a person quite so adept at it, at presenting choices and questions as disguises for inevitabilities, at guiding people’s thoughts so precisely. It would’ve been unsettling coming from anyone else, but from him, it was natural. It was how he operated. Who were you to chafe at it when that was simply who he was?

The grocery store was large, but they never changed their layout, so you knew where everything was familiarly and without checking the signs. You didn’t have anything to shop for, so you decided to wander the aisles, thinking that if something caught your eye, you’d buy it without further consideration.

You found yourself staring at a bag of oranges, a bright red 50% Off! sticker slapped right on the netted packaging. Swallowing, you reached for it, but before you could, someone snatched them away, holding them in the air teasingly.

“I thought you shouldn’t shop for food when you’re hungry,” Karasu said. “And might I add, what a coincidence it is, seeing you here!”

“I’m not hungry,” you said, taking the oranges back and holding them to your chest protectively. “And I wasn’t looking for you.”

“I didn’t say that you were,” he said. “I distinctly recall saying that it was a coincidence we even met, in fact. Anyways, maybe you’re not hungry, but I am, so I should be off. Meals to eat, shopping lists to plan…it’s a busy life I have.”

“Sounds mundane,” you said. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “You’re right. That reminds me! Before I go, what is it that should I tell you?”

You couldn’t deny that that was the real reason for why you had come to the grocery store — what was he going to reveal? For as much as he knew about you, you knew frighteningly little about him, and now that you were faced with a chance to learn what kind of person he really was, you didn’t want to let it leave your grasp.

“Whatever you want,” you said. He plucked the oranges from your grasp again, and before you could complain, set them at the bottom of the small basket he held in his arms.

“How about this? I knew you were going to go for the oranges,” he said.

“How?” you said.

His eyes sparkled as he leaned closer to you, and you suddenly remembered Yukimiya’s warnings. Whatever you thought you knew about Karasu, it was likely only half or maybe a quarter the truth. Really, he was shifting and cunning, a fox and a crow, far from comprehension, not a danger but not kind, either.

“I’ll answer if you tell me something else about yourself,” he said.

“Why are you acting like I’m entering some kind of contract with a devil?” you said.

“I’m not a devil,” he said. “Just Karasu. My teammates think I’m a great guy, if the recommendation sets you at ease.”

“It sounds more like you’re trying to blackmail me,” you said. He shook his head.

“Couldn’t it be said that you’re doing the same? You’re asking questions about me and expecting that I answer when you have no intentions of reciprocating,” he said.

You pouted, because when he put it like that, he wasn’t wrong, and it wasn’t that you didn’t trust him — because you did. You trusted him more than you should’ve, considering how guarded you had learned to become.

“I have an older brother,” you said. “He’s overseas right now. I don’t think he’ll be back for a while.”

“I have an older sister,” Karasu said. “Maybe they know each other.”

“Probably don’t,” you said. “Also, you didn’t answer my question.”

“I guess I didn’t,” he said, reaching around you to take two boxes of cereal off of a shelf. “Try again.”

“My parents didn’t want me to be a model,” you said. “They thought I should be a teacher. I’m good at it. Children like me.”

“I was going to go into investment banking,” he said. “Or consulting. One of those such fields. Maybe I still will, but soccer is fine for now.”

This was a game for him, you realized. Like tennis, but better, and so, instead of being irritated, you decided you might as well indulge it. It had been so long, anyways, since the last time you had spoken to someone freely, without concern for what they might spread about you, whose ears they would whisper your secrets in just to get one or two steps ahead.

“I threw a dress at a designer’s face once,” you said. “He didn’t like the shade of lipstick I was wearing, even though he was the one that picked it. The only reason my reputation wasn’t ruined was because he ended up liking the way the lipstick turned up digitally and promised not to say anything about it if I allowed them to use my photos after all.”

Karasu laughed, opening the doors to the fridge and taking out milk, stacking it neatly in the basket. You weren’t sure when the two of you had begun shopping in earnest, but it seemed he had forgotten about his plans to eat lunch.

“In high school, my teammate pissed me off, so I made sure to shove him around extra when we tried out for a nearby youth team. It made him look so inept that he didn’t make the cut,” he said, taking an abandoned cart and depositing his things in it, motioning for you to put your purse in as well.

“That’s mean!” you said, but it was hard to disguise the fact that you, too, were laughing. “You’re mean.”

“His fault. He should’ve played better, anyways,” Karasu said. “I had been helping his sorry ass out for too long. He would’ve been cut regardless. You could say I just…expedited the process.”

“I’m the only one in my family who still wishes my brother happy birthday,” you said. “He’s a disappointment in everyone else’s eyes, but he lets me live with him and pays his share of the bills, so how can I disown him?”

“Between the two of us, my sister is the perfect one, so I’m afraid I can’t relate. Vanilla or hazelnut?” he said without skipping a beat. Before you could even answer, he face-palmed. “Oh, wait, Otoya hates hazelnut. I’ll get that so he doesn’t mistake it for his own.”

“I used to be a waitress,” you said. “Before I was a model. It was a lot less glamorous of a career. I don’t think my feet ever recovered from it.”

“I’m sure those shoes that you were forced into for your last job didn’t help any,” he said. “They looked inhumane.”

“They were,” you said, your ankles panging at the reminder, still inflamed and angry as they were. “Though I think anyone would’ve suffered with them on. I doubt the designer had human anatomy in mind when making them; I haven’t bled like that in a while.”

“They made you bleed?” he said. You hummed.

“Yeah,” you said, seeing no point in lying. Who would he tell? Who would even believe him? “Fashion over function, right? It was only for a few photos. They’ll be healed so quickly I’ll forget I had them in the first place. Enough about me, though. Tell me something else about yourself.”

“I sprained my wrist playing soccer as a kid,” he said. “It was a long time ago, but even now, I can feel it when it rains.”

He still hadn’t answered your original question, and you didn’t think he would, not until you offered him something of equal or greater value. But what did you have like that? What aspect of your silly life held enough weight that it would make someone like Karasu, always so ready with his wit and his charm, willing to part with something he clearly deemed to be a secret?

“I’m lonely,” you said, turning away from him, pretending to be fascinated with comparing two different brands of yogurt, neither of which you would buy. “You’ll laugh, but I think this is the longest conversation I’ve had with someone outside of work since my brother last came home. It’s nice, surprisingly. Talking to you and all. I like it.”

Or maybe you just liked him. You couldn’t really separate the two. Either way, it remained that ever since you had met Karasu, you could not conceive of a time when you had not known him, a time when you had gone home to your empty apartment and watched your empty shows and eaten your empty salads and thought you were satisfied by it all. You doubted he knew he had this effect, and you certainly wouldn’t be the one to tell him — after all, he’d probably be frightened if he found out that you had, in such a short time, grown so attached to him and his games and his conduct.

“The oranges,” he said. “You tried to buy them the first time I saw you.”

“What?” you said. Now it was his turn to avert his eyes and yours to watch him in fascination, finding it far easier to stomach a secret than to spit it out.

“It was a long time ago, but it was definitely you,” he said. “It was a Thursday, and I was just coming back from practice; this grocery store is far from my apartment but close enough to the field that, when Otoya — he was sick, so he had skipped that day — texted me that we were out of bread, I decided I’d make the detour. I wasn’t planning on staying here long, but right when I was about to leave, I saw you. You only had a packet of instant noodles and a bag of oranges in your hands. They were on sale back then, too, but—”

“But I had to put them back,” you finished for him, remembering that day as well as he did, albeit not his role. “Because I didn’t have enough money to get them, even when they were 50% off.”

“Yes,” he said. “I left before you noticed me, but I always — I always wish I hadn’t. I kept making the trip here, doing my shopping every Thursday at the same time until it became ingrained in me like routine, and I told myself if I ever saw you again, I’d buy them for you.”

“I can buy my own oranges now,” you said.

“I know,” he said. “That wasn’t the only reason I came back each week.”

“Why else?” you said.

“Well,” he said. “I can’t just tell you everything in one go like that, can I?”

You scoffed. “You can.”

“But I won’t,” he said.

“But you won’t,” you said with a sigh. “Anyways. So you knew me even before we met?”

“I knew of you,” he corrected you. “Though not as a model. Just as an absurdly beautiful girl I saw in a supermarket once and thought about occasionally.”

“So it was a coincidence that you happened to be at that shoot?” you said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“When Yukimiya told us about the girl he’d be working with, Otoya looked you up,” he said. “And despite how long it had been since you last crossed my mind as well as how much longer it had been since the only time I saw you in the flesh, I recognized you immediately.”

“You have a good memory,” you said.

“So I’ve been told,” he said. “I didn’t go with any strange intentions, if you’re wondering. I only wanted to know what kind of person you actually were.”

He wasn’t a typical admirer, taken with your celebrity or your status. He was curious, not about Y/N L/N the model, but you, the girl he nearly met in a grocery store so long ago it was all but inconsequential. You wondered what it said about you that instead of being wary, you only felt all the more inclined to reveal yourself to him. You wondered if this was some lack of self-preservation, as your brother would declare it, or if this was an innate knowledge, an instinctual understanding that the man before you was different.

Maybe he was or maybe he wasn’t. You didn’t know, and maybe, on some level, you didn’t care. Taking his hand, you set it on the bag of oranges, placing your own atop it firmly, your thumb tracing his scratched knuckles.

“Buy them for me,” you said. “And I’ll tell you who I am, plainly and without fuss.”

“Is that what you consider a good deal?” he said. “I’d say you’re a bit more valuable than a discount bag of oranges.”

“Do you think so?” you said. “Fine, then. The oranges, and a pack of instant noodles.”

“Closer,” he said. “But I’m a fair person. I can’t accept.”

“You,” you said, all in a rush. “The oranges, the noodles, and you. That’s my final offer. I’ll give you everything if you give me that much.”

He didn’t even pretend to consider it. You thought that it must’ve been what he was waiting for all along, what he had been, in that way of his, leading you towards.

“You’re a tough bargainer,” he said.

“So you agree to it?” you said.

“Sure,” he said, and when he noticed your face falling at the noncommittal nature of his acceptance, he laughed. “Yes. Yes, yes, I agree. The oranges, the noodles, and me; you can have all three as you please.”

And it was odd, but just for a moment, the reprieve lasting only for as long as his breathy chuckle, your feet ceased to ache.

#karasu x reader #karasu x y/n #karasu x you #karasu tabito #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #modern au #m1ckeyb3rry requests #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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madameisaacpereire · 26 days ago

Note

First off I just want to say I love your writing, I’ve reread it sm tbh, and can I ask for a fic where Henry helps the reader when she’s in a depressive episode? Sorta like the one you already wrote where she’s ill but, here she doesn’t rlly speak and her mood is rlly bad, and struggles with everything and having a will to do it etc?

ok hiiiii i hope this is ok! unedited first draft, might go over it again later, might not. i had some fun with this one, hopefully he isn't too OOC because i think this is the sweetest thing i've ever written about henry.

a month of winter

henry x reader, standalone.

It starts gradually, the way these things so often do. A late assignment, a single class skipped in favor of lying in bed all day. But these things always snowball so rapidly. Late work turns into work left undone, a skipped class into weeks worth of missed classes, and you very soon aren’t leaving your bed for anything.

You’re not even cognizant of it happening until you’re drowning in work, graduation on the line, and you haven’t so much as brushed your teeth in... an amount of time you’d rather not disclose. You haven’t showered, or changed clothes. Your dorm room reeks of dead skin. Your sweater is covered in crumbs leftover from days ago, when you finished the last of your snacks.

The thing is, you know your classmates would help you in any way they could, if you only were to ask. They’d take down extra notes, sit with you until each paper has been written, or a particularly difficult passage translated. You’re sure they’d drive you out to the country in hopes of the fresh air helping your sensibilities. They operate much like a dysfunctional little family, in that way.

But everything has spiraled so far out of control that you’d find it embarrassing; it might strike pity into their eyes. You absolutely detest being pitied. And along with that, you’re having a difficult time truly caring whether you graduate or not.

Which leaves you at a sort of impasse for awhile. Work piling up, dehydration building, personal hygiene virtually nonexistent. The first day without food or water is nearly unbearable enough to snap you from your stupor, animal impulse seconds away from overriding this dead feeling. The following two days, however, you mostly spend asleep. It’s dreamless, painful and dry. But you find this type of emptiness more bearable.

This is how Henry finds you. He wouldn’t typically drop in on you in such a fashion– you don’t tend to get along very well at the best of times– but Julian asked that he make sure you’re alright, and he’ll do anything Julian requests. You aren’t conscious of his presence at all, allowing him to survey the damage with a pinched expression you’ll never be aware of.

Your room’s level of disorder is incredibly disturbing to him. Things seem to surround your bed in circular layers. Circle one is mostly dust, circle two used clothes, circles three and four the wrappers of any and all snacks you managed to choke down (as though you threw your refuse as far from you as you could.) Circle five is more clothing, a much thicker carpet than before, six a heap (or several,) of different books, seven your school supplies. And the worst circle, in his opinion, is the one closest to you. Circle eight, fittingly enough, is little more than a wasteland. Two empty soda cans, an empty chip bag, crumpled school work, and you.

You’re the most terrifying sight in this room, if he’s honest. You almost look dead. He considers leaving but you shift in your sleep, movements weak; he catches sight of your cracked dry lips and sunken in eyes. That’s what kicks his sense of responsibility into high gear. If he were a less respectful son, he’d curse his mother for this internal obligation to assist distresssed women. Instead, he begrudgingly begins to pick up the pieces.

He heads to the hall, bringing a few handfuls of trash along with him, and dials Richard to ask for advice. Richard suggests he bring you to the hospital. He even offers to come along, which Henry shuts down. This feels personal, somehow, and he’d rather not involve more people than strictly necessary.

Henry clears a path to your bed, picks you up as carefully as he can, and brings you out to the car. He ignores the curious, half alarmed stares he gets from other students. They’re irrelevant to him. What matters is ensuring that you’re alright; because what good is an academic rival if she isn’t well enough to actively challenge him?

You wake a few times on the drive, but dehydration has you so delirious that you don’t comprehend what’s happening. You think it’s a strange dream and you don’t speak, so he doesn’t know you’ve woken. You fall back to sleep again, and only wake once more when nurses are fussing over you. The IV fluids filling your veins are making you shiver. It’s disorienting and more than a little terrifying. But it isn’t the worst part of your hospital stay.

The worst part is Julian’s visit. He looks sorry that you’re ill, tells some long winded story about a time he was ill himself, and then mentions Henry. Offhandedly, as though it doesn’t matter or you must already know, he lets you know that Henry happens to be the one that found you. Your favored intellectual sparring partner. The classmate you love to hate. The man with the worst superiority complex you’ve ever witnessed.

You could pass away right then. Melt through the bed and into your grave. Since you aren’t chatty in response, Julian doesn’t stay long. A relief if ever you’ve felt one, and the rest of your stay is quite tolerable in comparison.

They rehydrate you over the following few days. You’re cold for most of it, thanks to the near constant stream of fluids. They feed you clear liquids the first day and work you back up to solids painstakingly slowly. They try to make you talk with a counselor. Words still won’t come out of your mouth, but your doctors throw around a lot of words all on their own: psychiatric unit, facilities, transport, major-depressive-disorder, catatonia. They start you on a pill of some sort called Amitriptyline as soon as you can keep liquids down, which you take without question because you still don’t fully care what happens to you.

You sleep for a large chunk of that stay, and this is the main reason why you aren’t aware of how much arguing Julian and Henry do with the hospital on your behalf. You’re unaware of their insistence upon your release into their care, and how adamant they are that you don’t get shipped off to some facility or other. You’d be mortified if you did, so perhaps this is for the best.

You still can't speak as you’re being signed out. Henry’s the one bringing you back home. Shame and defiant anger prickle beneath your skin. He brings you fresh clothes that look suspiciously like your own. You’re sure they couldn’t possibly be yours, because they’re too soft and clean. You wear them anyway. It gives you the slightest hint of pleasure, however dull.

The car ride is fairly quiet. You’re still on verbal strike, and Henry isn’t really sure how to handle a version of you so silent. The only time he does speak is to give you some more humiliating news:

“Julian and I agreed that you’ll stay with me until you’re well.” Henry says, pulling to a stop in front of his place.

Your face is redder than a stoplight, you’re sure of it. How can you stand staying with him for any significant length of time? Especially without speaking? You’re even angrier about this, but you let him usher you indoors all the same. He directs you to what seems to be the only bedroom in the place. The bed itself is perplexingly small. You toss him a questioning look.

“I don’t sleep in here,” He answers as if you've spoken, “Now. Some of your things have been brought over, so you should find yourself plenty comfortable.”

He explains that he is to be your companion for a few weeks, as if this is some sick Daphne Du Maureier novel, and only leaves your side long enough to allow you to settle into bed. The thing that makes you angriest is the fact that you’re already beginning to feel slightly better. You sit in silence that first evening, Henry reading to himself in a chair he unceremoniously places in the corner. You fall asleep glowering at the wall.

The next day isn’t much better. Henry brings you tea and toast once he notes that you’re awake, as well as a cup of water and an empty cup besides. This, he explains, is so you might brush your teeth without wasting energy to get up. In the end, you do brush your teeth, and feel better for it. But there’s still a sullen, silent sort of argument beforehand. He hands you a pill, too. The same thing you’ve been taking at the hospital. An antidepressant.

“Julian doesn’t think you should take these. He says all they’ll do is make you worse. But I’ve spoken with Richard and the doctor about it, and they both say you’ll get well much sooner if you do.” He doesn’t give you any further input.

You get to decide whether you continue on with this course of treatment, one which won’t even be semi-destigmatized for another thirty or so years. He files your choice away for later, once you've made it, and doesn't ask again.

Today, he begins to read to you. He reads selections you’ve missed from classes. You find his voice comforting despite the cool monotony of it, which sickens you. Every now and again he pauses and launches into some of his own thoughts on the selection. You have plenty of thoughts yourself, but you don’t contribute. You do, however, make rather nasty faces at him when you disagree. It’s hard to tell, but you think he finds this amusing.

You have a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch, along with some sugar-sweet coffee. For dinner, there are two foil covered plates delivered. It’s Sunday, you realize when he sets it in front of you, and this is a special delivery from the twins. There’s a glass of your favorite wine to go with it, chilled and set on the bedside table.

“I thought you wouldn’t like to see anyone yet.” He explains.

The next day passes similarly. Tea and toast. Coffee and tomato soup. Wine and a suspiciously full plate of food. Tonight, however, Henry runs a bath for you. You sit in it, wearing your underclothes, and let him mechanically wash your hair. He doesn’t seem to enjoy this any more than you do. That brings you some solace, at least. The only thing you have to do is peel your wet underthings from your body and replace them with pajamas.

You bathe this way once every other day. Breakfast is always the same, lunch and dinner only slightly more varied. The readings change as he catches you up on classes, but they always last the same amount of time. You’re dragged into a comfortable routine with absolutely no responsibility to uphold it. Sometime after day four, you begin to make noises in response to things. A derisive grunt, a loud huff, even (once) something that sounds laughter adjacent. He gives you a moleskin and a pen to write with, which you do, and this is your first real communication with another person in two months.

He asks why you didn’t come to anyone for help. You don’t answer this. But you do answer other questions, like ‘Would you like ham on your grilled cheese?’ Yes. Or: ‘Which sweater would you prefer to wear today?’ The black one. You also use this notebook to emphatically disagree with his musings on Plato. And it doesn’t even seem like he really minds, which puts you on edge. He’s rather indulgent. He actually pretends to consider your points.

These disagreements are how you begin to work on overdue translations in the afternoons on week two. You work through them quickly, because there’s very little else to do, and find that you’ve caught up with the class in record time. You eat Sunday dinner alone in your room again. But he promises whoever's actually bringing these plates by the apartment that they’ll be able to see you soon. Quietly, of course, but you hear it all the same.

Week three is when he catches you smiling at something for a fraction of a second. He begins bringing you out to the yard for thirty minutes every morning. You take your tea and toast out there, bundled in enough sweaters and coats for at least four of you. The fresh air does you good, though you won’t admit it. This Sunday, he sets out proper clothes, and you make a physical appearance at Sunday dinner. You’re overwhelmed by all the hugs and well wishes you’re met with. But it’s in a good way.

This Sunday, you say the first thing you’ve said in nearly three months.

“Pass the salt?” You aren’t even fully aware that you’ve said it.

A hush falls over the table, anyway, and the salt appears before you in record time. This Sunday, you laugh at an awful joke Bunny makes. You’re still very clearly a shell of a person. But you’re getting better. You fall asleep in the car on the way back to Henry’s, exhausted from the excitement. He carries you in, carefully undresses you to your under-things, and tucks you into bed.

You continue to take your tea and toast outside in the mornings. You bathe every other day, with Henry’s clinical assistance. You talk more. You still won’t tell him why you never told anybody how poorly you’d been doing. But your lips are far from cracked by now, eyes no longer sunken in. You’ve begun to wander the apartment some.

You help him make lunch on Sunday, and you go along to dinner again. This dinner is less stilted and awkward than the last. It’s normal, or something like it. You chime in your usual amount and drink Charles under the table. And even though you fall asleep shivering on the car ride back, you feel warm all over.

The following week is spent moving back into your dorm room. You find that it’s pristine when you first show up, which surprises you most pleasantly. You bring your things back in small increments. Your first night back, Henry stays over. He doesn’t sleep, but works on something or other at your desk. It’s a comfort to have him there. If he weren’t, you’d likely be anxious about falling back into that pit of despair. He stays a few more nights, leaving earlier and earlier until he isn’t visiting your room in the evenings at all.

Your arguments, once hot and spiteful, have managed to fizzle out. What you have now is a calm enough friendship that you miss his presence. He misses yours, too, so once a week, he shows up at your door with tea and toast. When it’s nice enough, you take a leisurely half hour walk outdoors. You contradict him far less during classes, now preferring to bring up your differing opinions on those weekly walks. The resulting discussions are far more civil than they ever were.

You still have bad days, of course. Days where getting out of bed seems pointless. Where you hope it’s true that smoking causes cancer. On these days, you spend the night in the bed Henry doesn’t use. You'll never address this, but you suspect it's all, somehow, Julian’s doing. The way his eyes twinkle when he watches you and Henry speak after class suggests as much.

#henry winter fanfic #henry winter x reader #henry winter #the secret history #[ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞; x reader fic.]#[ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢'𝐦 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦; henry winter. ]

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shawtylex09 · 4 months ago

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Random MHA headcanons bc I said so.

Characters included;

Ashido M. • Kaminari D. • Iida T. • Aizawa S. • Midoriya I. • Sero H.

Masterlist.

✮˚.⋆

☆ Mina Ashido

Half black, half Japanese (mom is black, dad Japanese)

Mainly listens to pop, but also likes hip hop.

I’ve also always Hc’d her to make this group chat with all of girls, and if anyone needs or wants anything that’s like, period related, she sends one of the girls out to help the girl in need out.

Gives off Bi leaning towards women vibes.

✮˚.⋆

☆ Denki Kaminari

I’m sorry, but Denki’s back is covered in lightning looking scars from growing up with his quirk.

Dealt with bad acne as a middle schooler

Has braces

Sweetest guy you’ll ever meet, and is actually really considerate of little things like his friends’ favorite colors, foods, etc.

Is very very very good at gift giving

Allergic to cats (only mild allergy tho)

Has a hamster in his dorm named Hamper

Loves spicy food even though he has like, no tolerance for it.

Has lightning fast reflexes because he loves rhythm games (get it? Lololol)

Smokes weed with Sero and actually kinda has a bit of a tragic back story

Used to be picked on a bit when he was in elementary school, kids would purposefully scare him and make him fry his brain to make him stupid.

When he gets excited or surprised, little bits of electricity shoot out through the ends of his hair.

✮˚.⋆

☆ Tenya Iida

I stand by the fact Tenya has a full skin and hair care routine, and he regularly does self care days with Izuku and Ochaco.

Tenya actually functions best on 5ish hours of sleep, any more or less and he’s basically a zombie.

He LOVES Pokémon, and his favorite Pokémon is Absol, his favorite starter is Tepig.

Totally pretends to hate being called Sonic, but actually loves it

He can only fall asleep if there’s some form of background noise

Wears cologne that smells kinda citrusy

✮˚.⋆

☆ Shota Aizawa

Has a vinyl collection, and regularly listens to them while he cleans, grades, or does really anything.

Let’s Eri braid and play with his hair pretty much whenever she asks.

He loves those hard caramel candies that come in the gold wrappers.

Has a small pin of a cat that Oboro gave him for his 16th birthday, and keeps it pinned up on his favorite jacket.

Can throw knives…scarily well.

Really good at poker for no reason

Was 5’5 until he hit 18, where he had a growth spurt.

He tans really easily, but the lucky bastard really doesn’t ever get sunburns.

Has matching tattoos that he got with Hizashi and Bo. The tattoos were a sun on Hizashi’s wrist, a star on Oboro’s, and a moon on Shota’s

Always paints his nails, and lets Eri paint them and put those little nail decals on them.

Has a heart shaped birthmark on his right shoulder blade.

✮˚.⋆

☆ Izuku Midoriya

Listens to cavetown regularly, and is a diehard fan of their music.

Is actually really good at art, idk I just feel like he’s better at art than he’s depicted in the anime/manga.

Loves banana flavored candy, along with coconut and grape flavors.

Can play the flute and violin.

Learning piano thanks to Momo’s lessons

Started smoking cigarettes his second year at UA

Izuku loves Just Dance. He just does

He had long hair in middle school, before someone stuck gum in his hair, rhem he had to cut it.

✮˚.⋆

☆ Hanta Sero

Obv I hc him to be at least half Hispanic, his mom being Japanese and his dad Hispanic.

He always smells so good, and wears different mixes of colognes and perfumes

Sero loves Spider-Man (fitting eh?) and has a few Spider-Man posters on his walls in his dorm

Stoner, obv

He loves to bake with Sato in the kitchen, he just does okay?

Whenever he’s super tired, he’ll end up speaking in Spanish, cause that’s his first language

Loves to cook, and he and Bakugou often cook together

Plays guitar and saxophone

Took dance lessons as a kid

Drinks a little, but not a lot tbh

Makes the best edibles ANYONE has ever had ever.

Here are the headcannons!! I’ll definitely make more with more characters at some point, but I’m super sleepy, I just got back from celebrating my birthday at a restaurant with my family so I’m kinda tired. I’ll try to get the Bakugou x Ch!Fm!reader out tonight, but idk if I’m going to be able to.

Mentions; @candiiee @cvnt4him @anzs-stuff @d4rlinxs

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yujinnieswifeu · 11 months ago

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hello and thank you for the fic on sex appeal it's really great I really liked it thank you again

I wanted to know if you could make a fic about yujin or wonyoung filming the kisses challenge (candy, drinks, ice cream, popscicle) for reader's YouTube channel and wony or yuj gets a little naughty and horny because of all the kissing teasing the reader about that touching reader breast and reader pushing back their advance and telling them to concentrate on the basic subject after filming the video reader it's that she's going to have a long night (yujin or wonyoung getting hard after a moment in the video hiding they're hard cocks with a pillow video)

(you can easily find gay people filming this challenge you can use it as a source of inspiration)

thanks again for the other fic

-💌

pairings: sub!fem reader x dom g!p Yujin

warnings: smuttt, cumming inside of pussy (please don’t do this irl), kinda switch Yujin and reader?, mild cursing, needy Yujin

a/n: hii again anon!! I’m so glad u enjoyed the previous one that i wrote on Wony hehe, so here is another one w Yujin this time!! I missed writing for Yujin so this was so fun to write tbh, really missed my baby🥺🥺 i forgot to add that this was such a good request as well so tqsm😭. And might have gotten carried away w this askk haha, okk i’ll stop yapping here🥴. (Should i start an anon list btw?? Would you guys like that?)

You and Yujin have been seeing the viral kissing challenge, and wanted to try it out for a while now. You were scared but excited at the same time. It is not like you and Yujin were innocent when doing youtube couple videos, but the thought of doing a challenge like this, it was something new. Yes, sometimes your hand would linger a little longer than usual, sometimes your eyes would stare a little longer into hers, but kissing so intensely in front of the camera was something that you two would never think of doing until couples started doing the kissing challenge.

So fast forward to now, you and Yujin were sitting in your living room, the ice cream flavours were spread all over the table and the camera settled over the tripod just like usual. “I’m scared of this Yujin ah..” you mutter out your thoughts in your head, and Yujin goes to cup your cheeks, planting a soft kiss on your lips to calm you down. “Mm..what have we not accomplished huh?” She whispers against your lips, her eyes lowers down on them before going back to look into your eyes.

“You’re right…with you, everything is possible.” You gave her a wide smile, the one she adores and she smiles back widely as well, almost looking like a puppy. “Stop that lookkk.” You dragged your words, which makes her giggle, showing off her dimples. “That’s even worse!” You pout, and she takes the opportunity to pinch your cheeks instead. You were whining now and Yujin just shushes you up with another kiss. “We need to start rolling the video now, if not the ice cream will melt.” She looks over the ice cream, some puddle of water under the wrapper due to condensation (idk if I’m right 🧍🏻‍♀️), and back at you as you gave her a small pout.

“When i kiss you later, that look of yours will be gone baby.” She teased, and you just roll your eyes at her way of flirting with you, a smile forming on your lips now. “There’s that smile, i’m going to start now okay?” She asked and you nod your head yes. Within a few seconds, she starts the video, settling next to you and you two starts with the normal introduction, filling some fans in on how has your day been and answering the lucky fans questions. Finally, it was the part when you two would do the challenge.

“So..Yujin and me both know how fans have been asking for this content lately…so we’re going to do this challenge. Can you guys guess what it is?” You posed with your hand over your ear, as if hearing what the fans are saying and Yujin giggles at your actions. “You got it right, we’re going to do the….kissing challenge!” Yujin answers after a while of silence and you hid your face in your palms, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “As you can see, y/n here has been trying to get away from this, but of course, i convinced her.” Yujin teases, her hands going to ruffle your hair and you give her a glaring look, which makes her giggle. “Okay okay, i’ll stop.” She says, straightening your hair for you before going back to the task at hand.

“So for this challenge, we have prepared ice cream, and there’s so many flavours to choose from, we really just bought a bunch which we thought were nice to try for this challenge.” Yujin rambles on and you nod at her words.

。。。

Yujin shows the ice cream flavour to the audience, the blindfold was over your eyes now, making you unable to see anything but darkness. Your heart was racing during this time, being unable to see was not something you two were unfamiliar with of course, but thinking about her lips on yours while the video was playing, and blindfolded, there was just something about it that makes you all nervous and excited.

When you feel her fingers under your chin, you got the queue, your lips puckers a little and then you felt it, her cold lips on yours. Your breathing hitches in that moment, feeling her kissing you more intensely, her tongue presses through your lips, forcing you to taste the sweet taste of the ice cream that lingered on her tongue. It tasted like a mix of blueberries and strawberries. Your breathing starts getting heavier, and after a while, Yujin pulls away, almost drawing a whimper out of you as you bite your lips between your teeth instead.

“Well..what flavour was that?” She says slightly breathless, now grabbing a pillow from the edge of the sofa over her lap. “Mm..was that mixed berries?” You raise a brow through the blindfold and Yujin was a little shocked you got it right. “You guessed it right babe, how did you guess?” She quipped, now removing the blindfold for a while, your eyes squinting from the light slightly. “It tasted like blueberries but at the same time strawberries?”

“Oh, to me it just tasted like blueberries, maybe it’s because of you huh? Always distracting me.” Yujin smirks, her attempt to flirt with you makes you roll your eyes, your cheeks now slightly red from her words. “Let’s move on to the next flavour!” You added on, trying to change the subject which causes Yujin to laugh. “Okay, okay, put it back on then.” You place the blindfold back on, the sound of the wrapper fills up the room, the silence was making your heart race, not knowing when she will kiss you.

That was until you felt a pair of hands on your waist, pulling you closer to her, your breath hitches, a gasp falling past your lips at the unexpected touch. Yujin takes this opportunity to kiss you deeply, instantly sliding her tongue inside your mouth, you whimper softly, feeling her hands slide up and down your body teasingly. You were going to push her away and chide her but Yujin knew you too well, her hands sliding under your shirt to feel your skin against her palm. You moan into the kiss, not stopping her yet, until you felt her sliding her fingers past your bra and brushing teasingly at your nipples. You pull away almost instantly, breathing heavily and removing the blindfold that was covering your eyes just a second ago.

“What was that?” You were sternly looking at her now, and she pouts cutely instead, hoping it would work against you. “Don’t give me that look, we need to focus on our video and you know that.” Yujin just whines, she was getting hard doing this challenge and it was not helping when you were blindfolded. She was having those naughty thoughts about you, all blindfolded for her, maybe even bound to the bed…it was driving her and her cock crazy. She just wants this video to end at this point and show you how hard you have gotten her. “Baby…can we stop here for today?” Yujin whines, the pout still etched on her face and you sigh, shaking your head no. “Just 2 more flavours okay? We need to retake this one since you got carried away.” Yujin droops her head, almost like a puppy which makes you giggle. “Sorry love, soon okay? Then we can take care of that problem of yours.” You whisper the last part seductively into her ears, and she bites her bottom lip, suddenly eager to continue recording the content for you two’s youtube channel.

。。。

“A-ahh Yujin slow down!” You cry out, Yujin had requested for your blindfold to stay on, the camera still rolling as she rams her cock inside of you. “Ngh…s-so tight for me, is it cause of the blindfold?” Yujin pants heavily, spreading your legs apart as she drives her cock further deeper inside of you, reaching places that you couldn’t and you let out slurs and moans. She loves seeing you like this, so vulnerable for her. “Shut u-up.” You say breathlessly, and Yujin giggles slightly, pushing your hands up over your head instead to feel you squeeze around her even more. She groans softly against your neck, before licking and sucking at the skin there. “You like it when i do this?” Yujin tightens her grip over your wrist, and you whimper softly. Your hands were curled into fists, and Yujin moans, feeling you tighten around her more.

Just a little more and she would come undone, but that was not what Yujin wants. Within seconds, you found yourself being manhandled into a new position, Yujin slides her cock between your folds, whimpering into you ear as she has your front pressed down against the bed. “F-feel so good..your pussy is mine.” She bites your earlobe, pushing her cock tip past your hole again as she rams herself inside of you. You moan loudly, the sound slightly muffled as you had your head in the pillow. Yujin slides her fingers under your front, her fingers going to tease at your nipples, rolling and pulling them between her fingers, your moans becoming even louder at this point. Yujin whines against your ear, your pussy was closing deliciously around her cock, and she couldn’t stop. Within seconds, she cums inside of you, moaning how good you feel against your ear as her finger slides down to rub at your clit, which sends you over the edge as well.

You feel her hot seed inside of you, but she was still moving her hips slowly. It starts to get too much for you, and you whimper, unable to push her off you since she moves her hands to pin your wrists down, driving her cock that was still hard inside of you. “S-so good, i can’t stop baby, please? I want you to be full of my pup..i’m going to fill you up full of my pup o-okay?” And who were you to say no? When the thought of it turns you on so much? You two ended up doing it all night, and you were sure to be sore the next few days but that was the worries of tomorrow with how good Yujin was fucking you.

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ollyissleepy · 6 months ago

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𝐖𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 = 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲

summary: you and your boyfriend shed blood, sweat and tears in order to have perfectly wrapped christmas gifts. a/n: rafayel cries when really angry (i'm projecting) also you would think that last week of uni before christmas break would be all vibes but no instead you have to fight to survive (he says, as he wrote it during lecture) (I couldn't care less anymore tbh) (the professor literally was poorly reading from a presentation) (like dude you could sent it to us and we all could go home) cw: none

series masterlist

has no clue what is happening, is here for the vibes

"… and then you're done!" The person in the tutorial shows their perfectly wrapped gift. You look down at you, and while it's looking a little funky, it still looks similar to what was shown on the tutorial.

"That was pretty easy, right Xavier?" You look at you boyfriend, smiling. Then, you look down at how his gift looks like and you couldn't help but laugh.

His gift was a mess. The only thing it had the same as the tutorial is the fact that wrapping paper was used.

"Why didn't you say you're struggling? I could help you or we could watch the tutorial again" you look at Xavier, trying to figure out what he's thinking.

"I had fun, there was no point in stopping" the replies, smiling at you. Your heart squeezes at the sight of Xavier and his pure innocence.

good at wrapping, but gets mad easily

The wrapping on your part was going rather smoothly, the gifts you were tasked with wrapping were rather easy with them being simple boxes, since Rafayel decided to do the more complicated ones as the 'master wrapper' he claims to be. You were about to grab another one, signing along to the song that's playing in the background, when you heard Rafayel mumbling swear words under his breath.

"You ok over there?" You ask, looking over at your boyfriend.

"Yeah" he's not and you know that. His voice was shaking and his face was twisted in anger. You looked down at his hands to check what was making him feel that way. He was struggling with wrapping a particularly weird-shaped object.

"Raf, it's impossible to wrap to let's just throw in in a bag or something hm?" You put a hand on his shoulder and rub it in comforting manner.

"Yeah your right" Rafayel looks up to blink away the tears that were trying to spill from his eyes. You grab a bag,one of the few you bought just in case and let your boyfriend put the object in it.

avoids it, would rather pay/force someone else to do it for him

You hear Sylus sigh for like the fifth time in the last hour. It got to the point that you regret wanting to do it with him in the first place.

"Less sighing, more working, Sylus" you don't have to look up at him to know he's rolled his eyes the moment you said that.

"We wouldn't have to work, if you went with my plan" his voice has a sassy tone to it, his arms crossed

"We're not letting other people wrap gifts for OUR friends and family" you stand your ground and another sigh leaves your boyfriend's lips.

Then, out of nowhere, Sylus is right next to you, wrapping his strong arms around you from the back. He starts leaving soft kisses along your neck, hoping it would pull you away from work.

"It's not gonna work, Sylus. Get back to wrapping" you push him away from you.

"Worth a shot" he shrugs.

god-like wrapping skills AND super patient with your lack of skills

You watch Zayne skillfully wrap each and every gift with ease, his face in full focus that you usually see him have when he's doing patients paperwork.

"You know, if you actually did something else other than staring at me, we would be done by now" Zayne doesn't even look up from the gifts he's currently working on.

"How can I focus, when I have my boyfriend looking all hot while wrapping gifts" you lean against the table, smirking at him. "Besides, I have no clue how to wrap that thing"

"I'll show you" and boy he does. After finishing up with the gift he was working on, he comes closer to you. The two of you are so close, you can feel his warmth.

Zayne shows you all the tricks he knows when it comes to wrapping weirdly shaped objects. Even when you mess up something, he's there to help either guiding your hands or taking over and fixing it.

taglist: @leighsartworks216 @faeryminnyx @iloveboysinred @sstar-ggirl @bellagrayson-wayne

you want in? fill out this form!

#love and deepspace x reader #love & deepsace x reader #lads x reader #lads xavier #lads x you #lads x y/n #lads x mc #lads xavier x reader #sylus x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #lads zayne x reader #lads sylus x reader #lads rafayel x reader

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baekhyunsbestie · 9 months ago

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♡⸝⸝ sparks and vows (bbh series!) ⊹。°˖➴

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧♡₊˚ pics 1 2 ♡ song・₊✧♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧🥂

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 pairing: soloist!baekhyun x unnamed female o/c (y/n) aka [✶] ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 content: 18+/MDNI. smut, romance, wedding!au, angst, fluff, exos and o/c's, pussy whipped baek, ex-playboy baek, ceo nepo baby reader, smut (tbh probs every chapter), language, scenes with alcohol +/or smoking throughout story, pretty tame tho tbh!!! ଘ(ᵕ˵ ૩ᵕ)━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ baekhyun is down bad like real bad, reader lowkey being a lil punk, also ksoo cant read the room 😭 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 wc: 7.9k+ omg 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 a/n: omg so im going to start putting [✶] and just know that means (y/n) k? k :') as always lmk ur thoughts!! <3 hehe mwah

s&v | mlist | prev | ★ ch.2 rendezvous ★ | next

it was that in-between time when night lingers in the air, yet morning remains a distant thought. [✶] lay fast asleep in baekhyun’s arms, their naked bodies intertwined, sheets tangled beneath them like the remnants of a dream. outside the window, the city lights flickered softly, a quiet backdrop to the intimate chaos within. baekhyun's room was evidence of their passion—a scatter of clothing across the floor, nightstands cluttered with the remnants of their shared moments, condom wrappers, and crumpled napkins bearing witness to the night’s intensity.

baekhyun watched her sleep, completely captivated by the gentle rhythm of her breathing, each rise and fall of her chest like a soft melody that tugged at something deep within him. she looked so serene, so devastatingly beautiful, and it sent his heart into a wild, unfamiliar rhythm. this wasn’t who he was—love had always seemed like a distraction, something that pulled focus from what truly mattered. for the last 15 years, his life had been dedicated to music, every beat of his heart, every ounce of his passion poured into his art. it was his everything—until now.

now, baekhyun held [✶] close, her body fitting against his like they’d been crafted for this moment, his arms wrapped around her with the kind of desperation that comes from realizing you’ve found something you didn’t even know you were missing. less than a day ago, she was just a stranger, someone whose name he didn’t even know. yet here she was, tangled in his arms as if she had always belonged there.

it wasn’t out of character for him to bring someone home after a night out—it was routine, a brief escape that ended with the sunrise and no strings attached, inevitably leaving a trail of frustrated women, disappointed by the imbalance between their hopes and his intentions. but this? holding [✶] long after the moon had set, thinking about her like she was more than just another fleeting moment? it shook him. the sharp, sweet ache in his chest made no sense. he had no room for this—no room for her. his life was full, overflowing with plans, projects, and the relentless pace of his career. he didn’t have the time or the ability to be the kind of partner she deserved. yet something inside him was urging him to try, to just see where this could go. and the thought of treating her like all the others—women who were here one night and gone the next—felt impossible. she was different, and he couldn’t imagine letting her slip away the same way.

a storm of emotions raged inside him, battling between running from the overwhelming intensity of it all or surrendering completely, losing himself in the feeling of her in his arms. the dawn was creeping closer, and with it, the inevitable confrontation of reality. what would he say when the first light touched her skin? how could he possibly put into words the confusion and intensity that gripped him?

‘so, [✶],’ he could imagine himself saying, half-joking, half-serious. ‘last night was unbelievable. and god–the sex? THE best i’ve ever had, hands down. but, uh… now i think i’m starting to feel something real, something genuine.’

but no, that couldn’t be right. he couldn’t possibly feel that way—not after just one night.

except, maybe that was exactly the whole fucking point. he’d only known [✶] for such a short time, yet she had already flipped his entire world upside down. and of course, he didn’t know her in the traditional sense—there were no shared experiences, no history between them. but somehow, he felt like he knew her. like her soul had been cut from the same fabric as his, and no matter how crazy it seemed, it just felt right.

as he navigates a whirlwind of emotions—excited by the possibility of a future together and grateful for the universe’s twist of fate—he’s also plagued by persistent doubts. the question, ‘what if it doesn’t work out?’ echoes relentlessly. amidst this emotional storm, one truth stands unwavering in his heart: he wants [✶].

he wants all of her—the good, the bad, and everything in between. for the first time in his life, baekhyun doesn’t feel the insistent urge to run away. that thought alone is both terrifying and freeing. with his arms still wrapped around her and her warmth grounding him in a way he’d never felt before, baekhyun’s eyes finally grow heavy. as sleep overtakes him, only one thought remains: ‘i want ✶’.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

as the morning sun filters through baekhyun's bedroom curtains, casting a soft glow over their still-entwined bodies, [✶] stirs awake. the weight of the previous night crashes down on her with an almost physical force.

the first thing she notices, with a wave of relief, is the absence of a pounding headache or any trace of a hangover. silently, she thanks the gods for sparing her the consequences of her indulgence. but as awareness creeps in, the feel of her bare skin against baekhyun’s sends a surge of insecurity through her. instinctively, she pulls the covers tighter around herself, though her head remains nestled on his chest, just as it was when she fell asleep.

his chest rises and falls beneath her, his slow, steady breaths a sign that he's still deep in slumber. she glances up through heavy-lidded eyes, a soft smile forming as she takes in his peaceful features—the defined bridge of his nose, the pout of his lips, the few scattered freckles that dot his face. his slightly tousled hair falls gently over his forehead, enhancing his impossibly breathtaking appearance.

as her body fully awakens, the remnants of last night’s passion make themselves known, a dull ache settling in her thighs and core—a reminder of just how unforgettable the night had been.

oh, last night was pure magic.

from the very first moment, an undeniable spark ignited between them—a fusion of laughter and playful banter that effortlessly drew them closer with each shared joke. the attraction was magnetic, their energies blending in a way that felt almost fated. by the time they made it back to baekhyun’s place, a deeper intimacy had already begun to unravel as they stripped away layers of themselves, exposing vulnerabilities and desires. every movement between them was fluid, like a perfectly choreographed dance, each touch and caress in sync, flowing seamlessly. when their lips finally met, it was breathless, electric, as if every kiss was proof of the chemistry they couldn’t deny. there was no awkwardness or hesitation—just a quiet, unspoken understanding that made everything feel effortless and right.

despite the magic of the night and the waves of pleasure baekhyun had given [✶], she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she was just another conquest. another notch on his belt.

she had been fully aware of the boundaries she was crossing when she let things go as far as they did. but now, lying there in the dim morning light, she couldn’t shake the nagging doubt. was it the ache of loneliness, stretching back months before her breakup, that had driven her into baekhyun’s bed? the realization made her feel small and pitiable. this was supposed to be what she wanted—just a night of fleeting pleasure. she’d never intended for anything more, had she?

baekhyun’s reputation wasn’t a mystery. she knew his story, his resistance to commitment. hana had given her all the warnings. so why did she feel this sense of disappointment creeping in? did she really think he’d change for her? the thought twisted like a knife in her chest, leaving her feeling small and foolish.

the more she dwelled on it, the worse it got. her mind spiraled, and what had started as a gnawing insecurity quickly turned into a suffocating weight pressing down on her. each breath felt harder than the last. the comfort she’d found with baekhyun now felt like a cage she desperately needed to break free from.

with delicate, almost trembling grace, she gently disentangles herself from baekhyun’s hold, slipping out of his bed as silently as a shadow slipping through the night. she dresses with deliberate care, each movement slow as though she fears shattering the fragile peace. her heart feels heavy, weighed down by a whirlwind of unspoken fears and doubts.

she pauses for a moment, casting one last, lingering glance at the man she’s leaving behind, her chest tightening with the unvoiced turmoil inside her. then, she quietly turns toward the door, each step a soft whisper of the internal struggle pulling her away from the comfort she craves.

“where are you going?” his voice is soft but laced with urgency, cutting through the silence as [✶] freezes at the front door of his apartment, her hand on the doorknob. she turns, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him. baekhyun stands in the doorway of his bedroom, the morning light spilling through the curtains, casting a warm glow on his skin. his usually confident demeanor is nowhere to be found—his lips are trembling ever so slightly, betraying a fear he’s never known before.

but this time is different. this time, the thought of her leaving without even saying goodbye has shaken him in ways he wasn’t prepared for.

“i... i just thought i should go,” she mumbles, avoiding his gaze. it feels safer that way, to not see the way he looks at her, like he cares—like this is more than just another fleeting moment for him. because if she looks, she might start believing it. and she can't afford to be that naive.

baekhyun takes a step closer, his expression growing more concerned. “w-why?” his voice is quieter now, softer, as if he's afraid of scaring her away completely. “did i...do something wrong?”

the question nearly shatters her. no, he didn’t do anything wrong. he did everything right. maybe too right. it was her who was messed up. her thoughts swirl, and the doubts she had managed to suppress crash back down on her, heavier than before.

not only is he saying all the right things, it definitely doesn’t help that he looks absolutely unreal. his toned abs are visible beneath the loosely held sheet around his waist—not overly muscular, but defined just enough to show the faint lines of his effort. his hair, still messy from the night before, frames his face with an effortless charm. strands fall messily across his forehead, his undercut now more visible, revealing the sharp contrast between the tousled top and the freshly shaved sides.

“i just... don’t want to complicate things,” [✶] whispers, her throat tightening. “we both know this wasn’t meant to be anything serious.”

baekhyun’s jaw clenches, his expression hardening for a brief moment, but it softens again almost immediately. “who said that?”

his words catch her off guard. she looks up at him, finally, her brows furrowing as she tries to gauge the sincerity in his eyes. “you don’t have to say that. we both know what this is. you don’t have to pretend.”

his dark eyes search for hers, filled with a sense of longing and desperation that makes her heart skip. the way he’s looking at her isn’t just lust or satisfaction from a night well spent. no, it’s more. it’s something real, something vulnerable.

“[✶],” he steps closer, and for the first time, there's a sense of urgency in his voice, “i’m not pretending. i don’t know what this is, but i know it’s not nothing. i didn’t–i don’t want you to leave.”

her heart stumbles at his admission. she wasn’t expecting that. she was expecting indifference, a casual goodbye, maybe even relief on his part. but instead, she finds herself facing a man who seems genuinely rattled by the thought of her walking out of his life.

“why?” she blurts out before she can stop herself. the question is raw, tinged with the vulnerability she’s tried so hard to hide. “why would you care if i leave? i’m just another girl to you, right?”

his eyes darken with frustration, and before she can retreat any further, he closes the distance between them. “no. you’re not just another girl.” his voice is firm, with an edge of desperation. “if you were, i wouldn’t be standing here right now, trying to figure out why you’re running away. i wouldn't have tried so fucking hard all night to get you to agree to go on an actual date with me.”

she swallows hard, her mind racing. this wasn’t the baekhyun she had expected—the one standing before her now felt different, almost… vulnerable. it threw her off balance, disarming in a way that left her both intrigued and unsettled. this glimpse of him, raw and open, scared her more than she wanted to admit.

“you don’t know what you’re saying,” she mutters, turning her face away, her voice barely above a whisper. “you don’t know what you want.”

baekhyun’s hand reaches out, gently grasping her wrist, not to restrain her, but to ground her. “maybe i don’t,” he admits, his tone softer now. “but i know i want to find out. with you.”

his words land like a punch to the gut, stirring something deep inside her, something she’s trying so hard to bury. it would be so easy to believe him, to let herself hope. but her insecurities scream louder than the quiet sincerity in his voice.

“i’m scared,” she finally admits, the truth spilling out before she can stop it. “i don’t want to be just another one of your conquests.”

baekhyun’s grip on her wrist tightens just a fraction, as if silently reassuring her. “and you’re not. look, i don’t know what i’m doing either. i admit, when it comes to my love life, i’ve been a mess for a long time. but last night... it wasn’t just fun for me. like i said, i didn’t want it to end, and i’m not ready for it to end yet.”

her heart races, battling against her fear, her doubts. she wants to believe him. god, she wants to so badly. but the weight of her past, of her insecurities, makes it so hard to trust, to let herself fall.

she whispers, her voice trembling. “why does it feel like i’m setting myself up to get hurt?”

baekhyun exhales slowly, stepping even closer, so close she can feel the warmth of his skin, the sincerity radiating off him. "because i’ve been that guy before,” he says, his voice low and regretful. “i know what you’ve heard about me, and i know it makes me look untrustworthy. but i’m trying to be different. i want to be different. for you.”

her breath catches, and for a moment, she doesn’t know what to say. she’s standing at a crossroads, one where she can either run from this potential or take a leap into the unknown, into the terrifying, fragile possibility that baekhyun might actually mean what he says.

“just stay,” he pleads, his eyes searching hers. “we don’t have to figure it all out right now. just... stay. at least let me make you a coffee.”

and in that moment, she realizes she’s not the only one who's afraid. he’s scared too—scared of losing something real, something that might be worth the risk.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“thanks for meeting me so early,” hana says, her voice light yet tinged with a hint of mischief as she glances at [✶]. she raises her glass, savoring a generous sip of her mimosa, the citrus tang lingering on her lips. “i hope you’re not too hungover from last night.”

after the events of the previous evening—and everything that followed—hana had insisted on brunch. [✶] had reluctantly agreed, though she had wished to stay wrapped up in baekhyun’s arms a little longer. she stayed for coffee, at least, and during that brief pause, they had talked. they agreed to take things slow, letting the pace be hers. it was new for both of them, but they decided they’d figure it out together.

still, she wasn’t fully convinced. as baekhyun spoke, opening up in a way she hadn’t expected, there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind, reminding her of all the reasons she should be cautious. part of her wanted to believe him—his sincerity did seem genuine.

then, before she could overthink further, another voice—softer, almost hopeful—urged her to agree. give him a chance, just this once.

so then she nodded in agreement, the words tumbling out of her mouth almost reflexively. 'yeah, okay. sure. we’ll take it slow. let’s see where this goes.' the second she said it, she felt the weight lift slightly, though her heart still carried the lingering burden of doubt.

as soon as their conversation came to a close, [✶] had barely managed to get through half of her cup before baekhyun swept her up, carrying her bridal-style back to his bedroom to pick up where they left off the night before.

baekhyun had been between [✶]'s legs when hana called. she forwarded the call to voicemail the first couple of times, her focus lost in the heat of baekhyun’s mouth. the third call, baekhyun paused long enough to nudge her to answer. “it might be important,” he murmured, his lips still brushing her skin. breathless, she agreed, assuming he’d give her a moment of peace to handle it.

just seconds into the call, baekhyun dove back in, his lips finding their place between [✶]'s thighs once again. her back arched in response, a hand flying to her mouth to stifle the moan that nearly escaped. his quiet chuckle vibrated against her, making her toes curl. he was tormenting her and he was relishing every second of it.

hana had asked to meet for brunch later that morning, and despite the overwhelming distraction, [✶] couldn’t bring herself to say no. hana would immediately sense something was off if she refused, and [✶] wasn’t ready to explain what—or rather, who—was keeping her busy. with a steadying breath, she agreed to brunch, trying to sound as casual as possible, all while baekhyun continued his irresistible teasing beneath the sheets.

before she could even say goodbye, baekhyun snatched her phone, powered it off, and tossed it lightly across the room and out of her reach.

she shot him a disbelieving look, her mouth hanging open in shock. “baek, did you seriously just throw my phone?”

“don’t worry, babe,” he murmured, his lips brushing gently against her thighs, punctuated by playful nibbles. “if it’s broken, i’ll just get you a new one.” he said it with such effortless ease, his tone carrying an unspoken promise—he wasn’t done with her just yet.

she released a shaky breath, her body trembling from the waves of pleasure surging through her. the sight alone was almost enough to push her over the edge—his plush, pink lips enveloping her completely, his relentless tongue expertly circling her most sensitive spot. the dark, intense look in his eyes never left hers, watching her fall apart beneath his touch, turning her into a helpless mess. he was being so mean.

“why do i get the feeling you’re going to be the death of me, byun baekhyun?”

a wicked, self-satisfied grin twisted his lips at the desperate, broken whine that bubbled up from her. god, that sound was like pure, addictive nectar to him—he couldn’t get enough. his touch was merciless, each stroke and caress a calculated torment meant to make her squirm and beg. her thighs clamped down on his head, nearly crushing him, and he thrived on the way she writhed with pleasure. he was consumed by an unholy hunger to hear every gasping whimper and frenzied moan she made. nothing was too extreme, no act too cruel, just to keep her trembling and on the edge of madness. he’d happily lose himself entirely—drown in her juices—if it meant he could keep hearing those sweet, desperate sounds that drove him wild. to him, her pleasure was an intoxicating obsession, and he’d do anything to keep those sounds coming.

in his haze, the thought of returning to his old playboy ways was utterly inconceivable. how could he go back to such meaningless encounters now that he had experienced the depth of having [✶] beneath him, that he had tasted her so intimately? the fleeting pleasures of his past life were nothing compared to the all-consuming need he felt for her. the idea of being with anyone else, of indulging in any other woman’s touch, was abhorrent to him. he needed her and only her, every day, every night, for the rest of his days. the sheer thought of anything else was a betrayal of the dark, obsessive desire that now consumed him.

now, sitting in the bustling restaurant, surrounded by the sounds of clinking glasses and lively chatter, the air warm and fresh as they chose a spot outside, [✶] tried to ground herself in the present. the late morning sun bathed the two friends in a gentle glow, the rays caressing their skin with a comforting warmth.

[✶] smiled, mirroring her best friend as she took a slow sip of her drink. “well, when my best friend calls, i answer.”

she cleared her throat, trying to push away the vivid memory of baekhyun’s touch while she answered that very call, her pulse quickening momentarily. the contrast between the intimate, fevered haze of the morning and the casual brunch setting was stark, and [✶] struggled to keep her composure as she engaged in light conversation with hana.

hana's lips curled into a smile at [✶]'s remark, but that smile slowly fell once her gaze drifted lower. her eyes locked onto something just above [✶]'s collarbone—a faint mark, barely concealed under the edge of her cardigan, but unmistakably there.

"um, what the hell is that?!" hana’s voice practically squealed with excitement as she pointed at the mark, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

[✶] froze, her face a mask of horror. they hadn't even been sitting at the table for five minutes, and hana had already spotted it. her mind scrambled for an excuse, but she came up empty-handed. before she could even react, hana’s eyes widened in delight. "oh, you dirty whore! i knew you went to baekhyun’s last night! is that why you kept declining my calls this morning?!"

“hey, weren’t you the one telling me to have fun?” [✶] retorted, her hand instinctively flying to cover the mark, her sudden insecurity evident as hana’s gaze bore into her with playful intensity.

desperate to divert the attention away from herself—and the telltale mark on her neck that her best friend’s keen eyes had already noticed—[✶] blurted out, "anyway, what’s up? i’m shocked kyungsoo’s not too busy basking in 'betrothed bliss' to let you out of his sight." her words came out in a rush, the playful jab at her friend laced with a hint of anxiety as she tried to steer the conversation away from the previous night’s events.

hana narrowed her eyes playfully, giving her best friend a knowing look that promised a full interrogation about baekhyun later. with the tension between them dissolving, she relaxed back into her seat, a soft smile playing on her lips. "well, if you must know, i do have a little surprise for you."

she then reached down and brought out a stunning bouquet of flowers, the delicate pinks and whites of peonies and carnations mingling with the airy softness of baby’s breath. the arrangement was breathtaking, each bloom carefully selected to create a harmonious blend of color and fragrance. as [✶] took the bouquet, the sweet scent of the flowers filled the air, wrapping her in a comforting embrace. but it wasn’t just the flowers that caught her attention.

as [✶]'s eyes drifted down, she noticed the newspaper wrapping the bouquet—a charming and personal touch. on it was a nostalgic picture of the two of them as children, arms wrapped around each other, their smiles wide and full of innocent joy. above the image, a headline in bold letters asked, ‘will you be my maid of honor?’

tears welled up in [✶]'s eyes, her heart swelling with happiness at the heartfelt proposal. she looked directly across the table at hana, her voice choked with emotion. “oh my god, hana, of course i’ll be your maid of honor!”

the two rise from their seats, the excitement in the air nearly palpable. as they step into each other's embrace, the hug is tight and full of unspoken emotions—love, pride, and the overwhelming joy of this moment. [✶] feels her chest swell with happiness for her best friend, the kind that makes her eyes glisten with unshed tears. this is a moment she'll cherish forever.

as they settle back down, [✶] takes hana's hand, her grip firm and reassuring. "i promise you, i'm going to make this wedding everything you've ever dreamed of," she says, her voice filled with determination and warmth. "you know i'm the best when it comes to planning and parties," [✶] brags with a playful smirk. "you won't even have to lift a finger. you can count on me."

hana grins and winks at her, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "duh, that's why i picked you for the job. did you think it was because of the 20+ years of history we have with each other?" she joked causing [✶] to roll her eyes.

“but anyways, now that we’ve got all of that out of the way,” hana says with a sly grin, finishing off the last sip of her mimosa. the waiter arrives just in time to refill her glass, but hana barely acknowledges him, her focus entirely on [✶]. she leans in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “spill. about baekhyun, i mean. i want every single detail, especially the juicy ones. this is a first for us, after all.”

it’s true. [✶] has never had anything this juicy to share before—how could she, when there was only ever one person she’s been with? this whole experience is as new to [✶] as it is to hana.

hana’s eyes gleam with pride and excitement for her best friend. it was always hana who had the wild stories of one-night stands and steamy affairs—until kyungsoo came along and changed that, of course. but now, it’s [✶]’s turn, and hana couldn’t be happier to see her best friend finally stepping into the spotlight, embracing a side of life she had never explored before.

as [✶] captivates her best friend with the events of the previous night, her voice is a mix of excitement and raw emotion. she starts with the first kiss, describing it as a moment suspended in time—the spark that affirmed that there truly was something between her and baekhyun. she talks about their conversations, rich and engaging, where they uncovered just how much they had in common. their chemistry was evident in every shared laugh and glance.

the conversation takes a more heated turn as [✶] details what happened in baekhyun’s bedroom. her eyes flutter with a mix of excitement and lingering nervousness as she recounts the intensity of their encounter—an experience that surpassed anything she’d ever known.

her cheeks warm with the flush of several mimosas as she describes waking in the soft morning light, her heart pounding with a blend of fear and exhilaration. she had almost left without a word, but then she had seen the hurt in baekhyun’s eyes—a look that pierced through her and left her trembling. [✶] recounts the heartfelt things baekhyun had told her, his affirmations that he wanted her to stay. though his words were beautiful and convincing, she couldn’t shake the fear weighing on her heart. his promises seemed so simple, but she hardly knew him, and his reputation with women only added to her doubts.

“i know we agreed to take things at my pace and see where this goes,” [✶] gushes to hana, her voice tinged with frustration and uncertainty. “but i can’t help feeling scared. he said all the right things, hana,” she continues, her eyes searching for reassurance. “he made everything sound so… simple. but with what i know about his past with women, i’m just not sure if i should fully trust him yet.. or ever.”

hana listens intently, her gaze reflecting a blend of empathy and understanding. she can’t help but draw parallels between [✶]’s current turmoil and her own past experiences. she recognizes the familiar echoes of her own journey with kyungsoo in [✶]’s struggle.

she reflects on the early days of her relationship with kyungsoo, remembering how he grappled with insecurities about her popularity and past. the relationship had been rocky at times, but they weathered the storm and built a foundation of trust that led them to where they are now—engaged and committed.

hana finds herself empathizing with baekhyun’s situation as well, sensing a genuine depth in his feelings for [✶]. the shock of discovering that he might actually have developed real emotions for [✶] resonates with hana’s own experiences. she understands the challenge of overcoming past impressions and the difficulty of navigating new emotions in a relationship. the parallels between [✶]’s predicament and her own journey with kyungsoo feel strikingly similar.

hana reaches across the table, her smile soft and comforting. “i understand, [✶]. trusting someone when there’s so much uncertainty is never easy. but sometimes, the only way to truly get to know someone is to take a leap of faith. and as much as it surprises me to say this about byun baekhyun of all people, who knows? it might actually work out between you two. he seems genuine. besides, he wouldn’t risk playing with your feelings, especially knowing you’re my best friend. baekhyun might not always come across as a gentleman with women, but he does have his principles.”

“yeah,” [✶] replies, her voice tinged with exhaustion and a touch of resignation. “OR i could just ghost him and skip all this potential heartache. save myself from getting hurt.” she shrugs, trying to sound casual, but her eyes reveal the deeper unease she’s feeling.

unknowingly, [✶]'s reaction mirrors the very hesitance she perceives in baekhyun.

“that option seems like the safest bet. besides, i probably won’t see him again until the wedding, so there’s plenty of time and distance to figure things out.”

as [✶] continues to pour out her feelings, hana’s attention is drawn to the two men approaching their table. her heart skips a beat as she recognizes them, bracing for what could be an awkward encounter. she tries to catch [✶]’s attention, hoping to steer the conversation away, but her friend, lost in a haze of inebriated candor, remains blissfully unaware.

“i mean, who knows, maybe he’s probably already forgotten all about—”

a smooth, confident voice interrupts [✶]’s ramble. “fancy seeing you two here,” one of the men says, his tone dripping with amusement.

kyungsoo strides over to his fiancée with a warm, affectionate smile. leaning down, he presses a gentle kiss to hana’s lips. as he pulls back, his gaze shifts to [✶]. “you remember baekhyun from the party last night, right?”

[✶] turns to face the towering figure behind her, her eyes widening in surprise. her heart races as she meets baekhyun’s gaze, his expression a mixture of charm and intrigue. the blush rising on her cheeks and neck could easily be attributed to the alcohol, but deep down, she knows it’s more than that. it feels as though her breath has momentarily escaped her, caught in the magnetic pull of baekhyun’s presence.

“uhhh… yeah,” [✶] murmurs, her voice barely a whisper, eyes widening in a mix of surprise and embarrassment. “hi, baekhyun.”

[✶]’s hands tremble slightly as she tries to compose herself, her voice wavering. baekhyun, on the other hand, stands effortlessly, his relaxed posture and easy smile showing no sign of the tension [✶] is feeling.

“hi there, [✶]. long time no see.” baekhyun’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he casually greets her, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. his demeanor only heightens [✶]’s sense of unease, making her feel even more out of place.

‘why is he here? why does he look so fucking good? and why the hell is he acting like he wasn’t just eating me out like his very life depended on it just an hour ago?’ the questions race through [✶]’s mind, her anxiety evident in the way her heart pounds and her thoughts scatter.

the two men slide their chairs into place beside them, the scrape of wood against the floor sounding louder than usual in the tense atmosphere. hana’s gaze locks onto kyungsoo with a palpable blend of frustration and disbelief. her eyes, usually warm and inviting, are now sharp and pleading, as if trying to send a silent message through sheer willpower. her jaw is set tightly, the muscles working under her skin as she silently implores him to understand that this is absolutely not the moment for an interruption.

as expected, kyungsoo remained blissfully unaware of the charged atmosphere between the two women in front of him. he was the type of man who missed the subtle undercurrents of energy and instead focused on concrete, verbal exchanges.

“soo, you didn’t mention you were having breakfast with baekhyun this morning?” she asked, her voice laced with barely concealed irritation, teeth clenched as she spoke.

kyungsoo, oblivious to the simmering tension, responded nonchalantly, “oh, well, i checked your location and saw you were here. we just finished eating at the tap house not too far down the street. baekhyun parked nearby here, so i thought i’d walk him to his car since you’re here anyway.”

hana and [✶] exchanged frantic glances, their eyes wide with unspoken panic. they silently hoped that the two men would take the hint and leave, but their casual intrusion and self-assured demeanor suggested otherwise.

kyungsoo leaned back, a casual grin tugging at his lips. “and then we saw through the window that [✶] was with you,” he continued, eyes twinkling with mischief. “and since baekhyun here seemed so smitten with her at the party, he thought he’d swing by to say hi.”

baekhyun shot him an incredulous look, eyebrows shooting up as if he couldn’t believe his best friend just threw him under the bus. with a soft chuckle, he accepted that kyungsoo had no concept of subtlety. “yeah, something like that,” baekhyun laughed, settling more comfortably into his chair.

his hand slipped beneath the table, settling on [✶]’s thigh with a comforting warmth. he gently caressed her skin, his thumb brushing up and down in soothing strokes, occasionally squeezing her knee like it was second nature. each subtle movement edged higher, his fingers grazing the sensitive spot between her legs—a place he had intimately explored in the early hours of the morning.

she bit down on her lip, desperately trying to focus on anything but the subtle movements of his hand beneath the table. there was no way she could look at him—seeing baekhyun again so soon had her heart pounding out of control. her skin already tingled with warmth, and she knew that if their eyes met while he touched her, she’d completely fall apart. she couldn’t let her best friends catch on just yet to how dangerously head over heels she was for him.

“oh, by the way,” kyungsoo interjected, like a light bulb suddenly twent on in his brain. he turned to hana, his face lighting up with a blend of excitement. the words that followed his mouth, left [✶] in a state of utter shock. “i had asked baekhyun to be my best man just now, and he agreed.”

“oh..did he?” hana asked, her voice laced with disbelief. “i thought you were planning to ask your brother to be your best man?”

kyungsoo shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “nah, it makes more sense for baekhyun to be my best man. he’s more reliable.” he gave a meaningful nod towards his best friend.

hana’s eyes wandered over to [✶], who was sitting across the table with a mix of surprise and discomfort etched on her face. “i just asked [✶] to be my maid of honor, too, and she said yes,” hana confessed, a hint of guilt in her voice.

kyungsoo’s eyes softened as he looked across the table at baekhyun and [✶]. “this is perfect! and you two hit it off so well last night, too. i’m so glad.” his gaze then shifted to his fiancée, who was glaring at him with an intensity that could burn through steel.

baekhyun glanced at the time, his expression tightening. “well, i should get going. i'm running late for a meeting with my manager.” he gave her knee a final, lingering squeeze before rising from his seat, the chair sliding back with a soft scrape.

before heading out, he turned to [✶] with a warm, his fingers grazed her shoulder, sending a shiver through her. “guess we’ll be seeing each other more often, [✶],” he said with a wink, a toothy smile curving up into the familiar crescent moons that made her heart flutter. if she’d been uncertain about her feelings before, the gentle brush of his hand and that teasing smile left her even more confused.

as baekhyun bid the couple and [✶] a warm goodbye, his departure was marked by a casual wave and a charming smile. the soft chime of the restaurant doorbell signaled his exit, the door closing behind him with a gentle swoosh. hana’s gaze followed him until he was out of sight, her fingers lightly tapping kyungsoo's arm in a gesture that was both exasperated and affectionate.

“what the hell, kyungsoo?! can’t you take a hint?” hana’s voice was a mix of frustration and disbelief, her eyes flashing with irritation.

kyungsoo winced, the sting of hana’s playful yet sharp slap making him flinch. he rubbed his arm with a wince, his brow furrowing in confusion. “what do you mean? aren’t you happy that our best friends are playing such important roles in our wedding?”

hana’s reaction was to scoff, shaking her head as though in disbelief at her fiancé’s lack of understanding. “i’ll explain when i get home later,” she said, her tone carrying a weight of finality.

[✶], who had been silent and seemingly lost in thought, finally spoke up. her voice was thin and quivering, as if she were struggling to find the right words. "i’m going to head into the office, actually.” she said, her throat feeling dry. "i have a lot to prepare for the charity event this upcoming weekend.”

as she packed up her bag with a hurried efficiency, her movements were sharp and deliberate. she tossed a generous amount of cash onto the table, covering their bill with a decisive flick of her wrist. “i’ll text you when i get home, hana, yeah? i’ll see you both later, bye.”

before hana could even muster a response, [✶] was already making her way to the exit, her steps quick and determined. the restaurant's warm ambiance seemed to dim as she left, her sudden departure leaving a palpable void. hana and kyungsoo were left in stunned silence, their expressions a blend of concern and confusion as they watched [✶] storm out, her figure disappearing into the busy street.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

as [✶] slides into the driver’s seat of her car, she feels the cool leather against her skin. the soft hum of the engine, which she usually finds comforting, now seems to mock her inner turmoil. she's slumped into the seat, her back pressing against the headrest, her breath hitching as she silently berates herself. “why did this have to happen now?” she muttered to herself, her voice trembling with the intensity of her emotions. “why did baekhyun have to show up like that? and why did kyungsoo have to be so fucking oblivious?” she ran her fingers through her hair in frustration, trying to make sense of her jumbled thoughts and emotions.

a tap on her windshield startles her, and as she looks up, she catches the glint of a familiar face through the sunlight. it’s baekhyun, his presence as unexpected as it is electrifying.

“talking to yourself now?” his voice, smooth and teasing, floats through the air, just as the soft knock on the glass fades.

[✶] mentally shakes herself, a whirlwind of thoughts crashing together. 'get your shit together', she thinks while drawing in a deep breath. the whir of the window motor is the only sound that punctuates the brief silence as she rolls it down.

baekhyun’s face appears, framed by the soft light of day, and his smile is a blend of mischief and warmth. his eyes sparkle with a flirtatious glint, the kind that makes her pulse quicken and her thoughts scatter.

“hi again,” he murmurs, leaning into the window with a playful, teasing tone. his lower lip caught between his teeth, he meets her gaze, then lets his eyes trail down to her lips before returning to hers. the proximity of his body, his breath brushing against hers, sends a shiver racing down her spine.

caught off guard, she fights to regain control of her swirling thoughts. but as the sunlight bathes him in a golden hue, the moment pulls her in, stealing her hesitation.

“hi,” [✶] replies, her voice soft but brimming with warmth.

baekhyun’s gaze softens as he reaches out, the back of his fingers grazing her cheek with a feather-light touch. he gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch electric and tender. “wow. you’re even prettier in the daylight,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere. “didn’t know that was possible.”

the compliment wraps around [✶] like a cozy blanket, stoking a fire of confidence within her. she lifts her chin slightly, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “i could say the same about you, baekhyun,” she responds, her voice taking on a flirtatious edge as she lets her smile widen.

the playful exchange lingers in the air, a shared moment of magnetic attraction, as they stand on the precipice of something exhilarating and unknown.

"hmph.” his voice rumbles softly, eyes looking at her with longing as if he was looking at something he couldn't quite have.

“sorry,” he murmurs, his tone a mix of concern and something she couldn’t quite place. “i didn’t mean to interrupt your little monologue just now. i just saw you practically sprinting to your car as i was about to pull off and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

as he speaks, his hand moves with a gentle, deliberate slowness, fingers brushing against the side of her face. his touch is warm, his thumb grazing the delicate curve of her chin. the contact sends a spark through her, turning her into putty. his thumb lingers, tracing the line of her jaw, and she can’t help but lean into his touch, her breath hitching as the tension between them crackles like electricity in the air.

"thanks for checking on me,” [✶] sighs, her voice barely above a whisper as she fidgets with the hem of her shirt. her eyes dart nervously to the side, avoiding baekhyun’s intense gaze. “but i’m okay, really—i just wasn’t expecting to see you so soon after… you know—”

“oh—right!” baekhyun says with a snaps his fingers. his eyes light up with sudden realization, his expression shifting to one of playful mischief. “what was it you were saying earlier? something about how you thought the next time you'll see me is at their wedding? and that it would leave plenty of time and distance between us? is that right?”

[✶]’s heart drops, and her eyes widen in shock as she feels her stomach twist with embarrassment. she can barely believe her ears. her mouth goes dry, and her voice falters. “heh. oh, so you… you heard that?”

baekhyun nods, his hand resting dramatically over his chest as if wounded. “wow. i can’t believe the only girl who has me in a complete chokehold was planning to ghost me.” his tone is light, teasing, but there’s an underlying note of sincerity that makes [✶]’s cheeks flush. “welp, i’m glad i caught you, then. cause now i can tell you that you’re going to have to try harder to get rid of me.” he says lightly pinching her cheek.

she feels exposed, her earlier confidence crumbling under his playful yet piercing gaze. the memory of her conversation with hana floods back, and she mentally kicks herself for being so careless. but as much as she wants to sink into the floor and disappear, there’s something about the way baekhyun looks at her—like she’s the only person in the world that matters in that moment—that makes her chest tighten with something other than dread.

"welllllll," [✶] drags out the word, her voice laced with a playful drawl, "it was really nice chatting, baekhyun, but i really have to get going. i have a lot to plan for this annual charity event coming up this weekend, and—"

she’s immediately cut off as baekhyun’s expression shifts, realization dawning on him like a flash of lightning. the pieces fall into place with a sudden clarity that makes him silently curse himself for not figuring it out sooner. how could he have missed this?

"wait—" he interrupts, astonishment coloring his voice, "the humanitarian gala at the lee hotel this saturday? i just signed on to perform there. i'm actually meeting with my manager soon to go over the details."

[✶]’s eyes narrow, her thoughts racing back to the chaotic conversation she had with her assistant yesterday morning, just before kyungsoo and hana’s engagement party. the memory is a blur of stress and frantic planning, and she can almost feel the looming headache from the mess that’s undoubtedly waiting for her in her inbox. the thought of the endless list of tasks she needs to tackle—one so long it could rival a cvs receipt—makes her shoulders sag with exhaustion.

"hmm," she muses aloud, her tone thoughtful but distant, "i did tell my assistant that she needed to find us someone else since one of our other performers had to back out." she sighs, a sound heavy with resignation, wanting to wrap up this conversation so she can retreat to the relative sanctuary of her office and start putting out fires.

“wow, so i’m your second choice? you’re really breaking my heart today.” his tone once again dramatic.

[✶] rolled her eyes, barely able to suppress the grin threatening to break free. his dramatic antics, always over-the-top and laced with flair, were just so… him. the way he puffed out his chest and cast exaggerated glances her way was almost comical. a subtle smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, betraying her amusement even as she tried to keep a straight face.

'you weren't even a choice to begin with, baekhyun,' she thought to herself, the idea nearly making her chuckle aloud. but she quickly bit her tongue, knowing full well that voicing it would only encourage him more. she could already imagine his endless banter, the way he'd latch onto her words and turn them into an ongoing inside joke. and as much as she adored that mischievous glint in his eye, she wasn't quite ready to deal with the inevitable playful teasing that would follow.

so, instead, she simply shook her head, her smirk widening as she watched him. "well then, i guess i'll see you on saturday, baekhyun," she quips, her tone light yet laced with playful sarcasm. "can’t wait to see what all those fangirls of yours are drooling over. who knows? maybe i'll become one of them."

her words hang in the air, a teasing challenge that sends a shiver down baekhyun’s spine. he feels a rush of electricity as the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, the intensity of her gaze lingering even as she reaches for the car window.

with a slow, deliberate motion, the window closes, creating a tangible barrier between them. but instead of diminishing the tension, the thin sheet of glass only amplifies it, making the charged atmosphere between them almost palpable. baekhyun watches as her car pulls away, his heart beating just a little faster, hands beginning to sweat, knowing that saturday’s performance will be different with her eyes on him.

s&v | mlist | prev | ★ ch.2 rendezvous ★ | next

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun fic #baekhyun series #exo smut #exo fic #exo series #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun fanfic #byun baekhyun #baekhyun #exo fanfic #wedding au #kpop fic #kpop smut #x reader #divider by @cafekitsune #lisawrites

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justevelynnnn · 2 years ago

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Happy Halloween…🧡🖤🧡🖤

Notes: Special post for halloween 😍🤗 this is what the poll was for too btw. Not a continuation of my mini series either. Not proof read.

Content: Nerd!Armin x blk!fem reader, mentions of drinking and one sorta nsfw joke at the end

It’s halloween night and this time it wasn’t Eren throwing a party but Reiner. You didn’t like him that much but a party’s a party and it’s halloween!!

You decided on a vampire like fit since it was last minute. You were going with Mikasa and Eren who just decided to be thing one and thing two.

The party wasn’t far so the three of you decided to walk. Eren and Mikasa went to your house to pick you up so you alll could walk together.

“You’ll finally get to meet Armin!” Mikasa exclaimed as you three walked to the party.

From what you knew Armin was their 3rd friend before you and was realll nerdy now so he was often caught up with homework or studying. You went sure how Eren or Mikasa convinced him to put the book down for a party but you were a bit glad tbh. You really wanted to meet him especially since you had a thing for nerdy guys maybe he was cute…

It was obvious which house the party was behind held at. The music was so loud you could faintly hear it at your own house!

Once inside you, Eren and Mikasa push through a sea of dancing monsters, fake celebrities and other goofy dressed people. Eren got distracted somewhere in that sea but you and mikasa made it to a kitchen area. Mikasa yells she’s going to get a drink but you barely hear her so you just nod while still walking.

You weren’t really sure where to go or what to. You thought about getting a drink or two yourself but before you can finish that thought you bump into a slightly tall ghostface.

“Oh, sorry, my fault.” You say quickly looking at him.

He just stands there a bit and you were about to question it until Mikasa catches up to you.

“Im back- Oh hey Armin!”

Oh, so this was Armin?

He just waves and you both look at each other. Mikasa notices and tries to further introduce you two.

It’s still kinda awkward and also kinda hard to hear so Mikasa pulls you two outside where there were let people.

“Guys loosen up! It’s a party!” Mikasa exclaimed taking a sip from here drink. “Y’know what? You two just need a drink too, wait right here!”

And just like that she was off. You were starting to think she was an extreme lightweight.

“Soooo..” You said breaking the ice. “What made you not wanna nerd out tonight?”

Armin shrugged and looked down then away.

“What’s your major?” You ask.

He mutters something that has science at the end of it.

Smirking you say, “Can you take your mask off? I cant hear you..”

He slowly takes the mask off and you’re baffled.

He has the rosiest cheeks right now but he also had gorgeous blue eyes and soft looking lips. Also the curliest looking blonde hair. Adorable.

“Hey handsome..” You said playfully poking him. He just smiled and looked away.

Clearly he was shy but you found that cute as hell.

Mikasa comes back with two cups and hands them to you both.

“He’s so shy, Kasa..” You whisper in her ear.

“He’s just like that at first just give it time.” She says. “I’m gonna go dance and find Eren you two have fun out here ok?”

“Sureee..” You say sipping from the cup.

She runs off and you look back at the blushing blonde boy in front of you.

“Comeon, talk to me Min.” You say playfully.

His face reddens at the nickname and he says, “I like your costume..”

“Thankssss!” You twirl for him. “I liked yours too.”

He smiled.

The two of you talked outside for a bit longer. Armin finally started to open up more especially with the drink in his system. He even accidentally slipped he thought you were stunning and hot.

“Aw, thank you minniee!!” You say giddy.

He looks very embarrassed because of that but still smiles at your reaction.

“Hey, so i gotta go but…can i get your number?” Armin asks.

You smile big and quickly write your number on a candy wrapper and hand it to him saying, “Happy Halloween!”

He chuckled at this and turned to leave.

You were sad to see him go but once he did the party started dying down and here comes Mikasa again. This time Eren is with her.

“She partied too hard so times up, y/n.” Eren laughed.

“Nuh uh.” Mikasa says wobbling a bit.

You laughed and started walking with them. Eren asks about armin and how he missed him and you tell him he’s fine.

“He was dressed as ghost head!” Mikasa exclaimed.

“Ghostface.” You corrected.

“Well so was Connie and Marco.” Eren says. “I couldn’t tell who was who!”

Just then you get a buzz in your pocket from your phone. As Mikasa and Eren talk about party and read the text you got from and unknown sender.

- Hey, It’s Armin…

- I know vampires suck blood but i’d love to know if you’re down to suck something else ;)

You smile big at your phone as you demand an address. Did you just score a cute boy who happens to be intelligent as well??

Oh happy halloween to you….

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russellsppttemplates · 2 years ago

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You need some down time (Pierre Gasly)

You thought you had been able to adjust your routine to Pierre's calendar, but your body showed otherwise

Note: english is not my first language. This can also work as an alert for you (and for me too tbh) to take care of yourself and listen to your body. You should work on your dreams but also rest whenever you need ✨️ also, I feel like I can finally write about remote work without having flashbacks from my dissertation

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: reader's excessive tiredness (mentions some symptoms and taking pills for headaches)

"Then we are meeting Esteban there, we'll have to present a talk to the group of sponsors and then we have dinner", Pierre explained.

"And you're sure I can get there on time and not bother? I don't want to make a big entrance where everyone looks at me", you chuckled, "no, it's fine. They're waiting for you already, so you won't be a stranger", he smiled, "I'll just send you the ticket so you have it on your phone", your boyfriend added, hearing you fumble with a plastic medicine wrapper, "is everything alright?", he asked looking up from his phone to see you taking what looked like a paracetamol, "just a little headache, probably have been staring too long at the computer", you reasoned back, drinking some water from your bottle, "is that the bottle you filled this morning? If it is, you're not drinking much water either, and that's not good for you, mon ange", Pierre said pulling you gently so you could lay your head on his chest, "you know I've always been terrible at drinking water".

Like Pierre told you, the guy at the front of the event scanned your ticket, immediately seeing on the computer where he should be escorting you, already seeing a few familiar faces as you made your way to the high tables, seeing your boyfriend and his new teammate along with some of the members of the Alpine PR Team, "Hi everyone! So sorry I was late. The meeting went long and then the traffic here from the hotel was not easy either", you noted, standing next to Pierre, "you look lovely, Y/N, I'm glad you could join us at last", Esteban complimented.

"Thanks, Yuki!", you said, and to anyone else, they thought it was automatic, "sorry, Esteban", you apologised, laughing when the French driver laughed too.

The dinner turned out to be a nice and calm setting, contrasting with the excitement and buzz of the previous event, "do you want some dessert to share? I'm fancying something sweet but I don't think I can eat all of it", you mentioned to Pierre, looking around the menu and deciding on what you wanted to order.

Leaving the restaurant, you latched yourself to Pierre's arm, supporting yourself on him as you walked to the car he had driven there, "are you busy tomorrow?", he asked, "yes, the usual. But I think I'm going to clock in later, I think, a meeting has been pushed", you mumbled, yelping when you felt yourself stumble in your heels even though you know how to walk in them just fine, "nearly fell there, are you good?", your boyfriend asked, "it seems, yes. But I'm good".

The ring of your phone brought your attention from your laptop to the smaller device, seeing Pierre's mother contact appear for a video call.

"Hi, Pascale, how are you?", you asked, saving the changes you made to the document on your laptop before paying her you full attention, "I'm great, chérie. How have you been doing? I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time!", she nudged, "no, it's fine. Perks of working remotely, I don't need to worry about my boss breathing down my neck since I just need to meet the day's goals", you joked, looking at your planner, "and I'm nearly done for the day", you smiled.

Without your control, your hands trembled a little and you were unable to grasp your phone properly, leaving it to fall on the carpeted floor, "Y/N, is everything okay?", you heard Pascale say, "sorry, Pascale, my phone just slipped from my hands", you explained as you grabbed it, checking for any scratches and seeing none, "butter fingers, hm?", she giggled, bringing a small smile to your face, "more like sweaty fingers, I guess".

When Pierre arrived back from his event, he found you just the moment you shut the lid of your laptop, "Only finishing now, amour?", he asked, kissing the top of your head, "yes. Your mother also called me so I had a good break between my tasks", you noted, getting up and grabbing the remote control for the AC to turn it off since the room had cooled off enough, "now, what do we have for tonight?", you asked, "for a change, I don't have anything. Do you want to go explore the city or just sit here?", he wondered, "can we stay in, please? My head hurts a little, probably from being at the laptop all day", you mumbled, "room service and dim lighting it is then".

Finally, you were going home. It had been an intense couple of weeks and you were oozing forwards to spend some time with Pierre and his family without a tight schedule filled with events.

Arriving at the airport, Pierre was quick to get everything ready and you were waiting in line with the time perspective you had expected, greeting the crew and making your way inside the aircraft.

"Here, my love, you can hold my hand", you nudged, knowing that Pierre wasn't the biggest fan of flying, feeing him squeeze your palm.

"Hi, I'm so sorry to inform, but the flight will leave with a delay. The estimate is around forty five minutes", one of the flight attendants apologised, carrying on to inform the rest of the passengers.

"For Goodness sake", you mumbled, groaning slightly ad you felt Pierre squeeze your hand again, "I'll just text my dad that we'll arrive later", he mentioned, grabbing his phone and doing so. "Sorry, I know it's not the end of the world", you mumbled, letting your head rest on his shoulder and closing your eyes for a bit, "it's okay, hopefully soon they'll have some informations", Pierre offered, holding your hand in his and kissing the side of your head.

When you finally landed, you grabbed your bags and walked to the hall where you'd be meeting Jean, "I've never been so happy so see your father, I swear", you mumbled, walking up to the older Gasly man and allowing him to greet you and carry your bags to the car.

Walking up to the bedroom you'd be staying in, you managed to take your pyjamas out along with your toiletries bag, changing out of your clothes, washing your face and brushing your teeth before you met Pierre in bed, "I've been dreaming of this bed for the entire day", you groaned as you finally felt the fresh sheets on your legs, looking forward to cuddle Pierre for the night, "sleep tight, handsome, I love you", you offered, "Good night, mon ange, I love you too", he whispered before kissing your forehead one last time for the night.

Despite his usual routine and his sleep routine working like a clock, Pierre managed to sleep for a little bit longer than usual, opening his eyes to find you curled up on yourself and still facing him, making him brush some hairs away from your eyes and caress your cheek, admiring your features. Your skin was a little more faded than usual, and the circles under your eyes were darker, but hopefully this holiday would help you restore your energies. When you didn't wake up from his touches, he thought it was best to leave you to rest, getting up and tucking you further in, putting on a t-shirt and heading dowstairs to meet his family.

"Bonjour, dear, did you sleep well?", his mother greeted him, kissing his cheek as he poured himself a glass of water, "bonjour, yes, I did, and it seems Y/N is sleeping quite well, too. She's still in deep sleep", he noted, seeing his father arrive in the room.

"Bonjour everyone, I have fresh pastries and bread!", Jean announced, setting the paper bags on the table, "I have Y/N's favourites too, they were nearly running out but I managed to grab a few", he said, looking around for you, "she's still asleep. Although I'm not sure dreamland wins over these croissants", Pierre said, taking one straight from the bag and biting into it.

By now, Pierre started to get worried. Everytime he went upstairs to check on you, you were still sound asleep and not a sign that you'd wake up soon. "Is she coming down? I can warm up some of the croissants", Jean commented when his son came back, "thank you, but no need. She's still sleeping", Pierre murmured, sitting in the sofa next to his mother, "she must've been exhausted", she reasoned, "every time I called either of you, you were either about to fly somewhere or needing to be at some event, I even interrupted her a few times while she was working and you were off somewhere", she reasoned, "it wasn't easy on her, that's for sure".

The words resonated on Pierre's mind. It had been a couple of busy weeks, even he felt it. Travelling around so he could engage with the new team he was part of was as incredible as it was tiring, and having you there was the safe haven he needed whenever he felt a little lost. But had you been taking care of yourself for all of that time too? Was he the person you turned to when you needed to feel safe too?

About an hour and a half later, you woke up, cursing yourself as soon as you looked at the clock and scrambled out of bed so make yourself look presentable. Deciding that, for now, leggings and an oversized shirt would have to do, you made your way downstairs to greet everyone, "Good morning! I'm so sorry I overslept, I swear I didn't do it on purpose!", you apologised, seeing Pierre make his way to you so he could hug you a kiss your cheek, "hey, is everything alright?", he asked, holding your hand in his and pulling you to sit by the table, seeing his parents get started on what you figured was already lunch, "yes, I'm good. Let me help with that, please, Pascale. It's the least-", you attempted before being shushed by her.

"No need for that, chérie. But we do want to talk about how you are", she said softly, "you had us worried for a bit, I kept telling Pierre to check if you had a fever or something like that", she tried, knowing that you had already noticed where she was going.

Sighing, you placed your hands on top of the table fiddling wirh your fingers, "honestly? I feel a little rested, but not fully rested", you admitted, "it's been a lot these past couple of weeks. Work has been non stop, I have been covering some of my colleagues' vacation days, I feel like I'll need a few days to unwind even. The first thing I thought about when I woke up was that I was late for a meeting such is the habit to be in a squeeze of time", you gulped, "it has been a struggle, and I'm just grateful to finally have some down and off time", you finished, squeezing Pascale's hand that found yours on the cold surface.

"I know you don't need me to tell you this, but you need to take care of yourself, Y/N! You can't go around the day and sleep so little, we saw how busy you were!", she scolded still softly, meaning no harm and rather wanting to help you and make sure you took care of yourself and your well-being. "These days you're here, you're catching up on your sleep, eating good food, having some down time and taking care of yourself, I won't allow anything else under my roof!", Jean jokingly threatened, pointing his finger at you before smiling.

Pierre was looking like you expected him to. "Hey, no guilty frown, please!", you tapped your boyfriend's forehead, hoping to soften his expression, "you had your own things to worry about, and besides, it's also my doing because I didn't want to say anything", you admitted. "But still! I saw you were getting up earlier so you could meet me later, saw that you'd have quick lunches and how you felt more tired. I thought it was all jet lag and being busy, but it was more than that", he reasoned, tracing shapes on your hands, "it's all behind us now, okay?", you reassured, nuzzling your face in his neck when he pulled you into his embrace.

"Now, how about you two go enjoy some croissants outside? Despite the cold, it is a lovely sunny day outside. Just make sure you're warm enough, okay? I don't want anyone sick in this house!", Pascale announced, placing the food tray in the oven.

#pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly × reader #pierre gasly fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #pierre gasly fluff

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