#I wonder when really started turning that way - how involved he was in any of it

[thevampireliveblog]

Armand not beating the 'incapable of being without someone' allegations

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I was wondering if you could write something where reader is in the hospital for something and maybe another doctor or nurse doesn’t realize she’s remus’s gf and is being rude to her. And doctor!remus overhears and saves the day lol<3

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: reader who menstruates, mention (not really description) of severe period pains, healthcare gaslighting

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 632 words

“Have you tried taking pain medications like ibuprofen?” 

You clench your jaw. “Yes, I have.” 

“And how long has your period lasted?” 

“It started on Tuesday.” 

The nurse looks up from his chart, unimpressed. “So it’s only been a few days.” 

“Yes, but the pain started before that. And this has been happening for—” 

“Are you aware that many women experience period pains before the start of their periods?” 

Your skin feels hot. Frustrated tears threaten to clog your throat, and you fight the urge to bend over to relieve some of the pain in your abdomen. “Yes. I know that.” 

“One a scale from one to ten, how would you rate your pain?” 

“Eight.” Your voice nearly breaks. 

Your nurse pushes out a sigh. “I’m sorry to tell you, but that’s not uncommon either.” He sets down his chart, leveling with you. “Listen, we treat a lot of really sick and hurting people here. We have lots of patients to get to today, so if you think what you’re experiencing could be normal period pain—”

“Excuse me?” The nurse falls silent as Remus pulls aside the curtain, stepping into your little room. You have to shove down the urge to cry just for seeing him. He looks between the two of you, seemingly confused but obviously displeased. “What’s going on?” 

“Hi,” you offer meekly.

Your nurse turns to Remus with a long-suffering look that’s nearly conspiratorial as well. It’s clear he expects to be agreed with. “Doctor Lupin, sorry to waste your time. You’re welcome to check her out, but after an initial interview we’re fairly certain she’s experiencing regular menstrual cramps.” 

Your face flames at his use of we. You hadn’t agreed to any of that. 

“It’s not a waste,” Remus says, clipped. “I asked her to come here, because her menstrual cramps are abnormally severe and prolonged, and I’ve already ordered an ultrasound to find out why. Are you in the habit of deterring our patients from seeking care?” 

Your boyfriend’s tone grows increasingly agitated as he speaks, and you watch with a guilty sort of satisfaction as the blood drains from the nurse’s face. 

When he offers up no answer, Remus’ expression hardens. “I’ve got it from here. Find me later, please.” 

You barely get to see your nurse leave. Remus steps closer to you, eclipsing your view, the anger in your boyfriend’s expression melding into concern.

“Hi, honey.” His hand wraps around your arm. “How is it today?” 

You feel your face crumple under his caring gaze. “A little better,” you manage. 

Remus makes a sympathetic sound, thumb sweeping gently over your skin. “Still nauseous?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Did he ask you to rate your pain?” 

“Mhm.” 

“And what did you say?” 

You shrug. You’re never sure how accurate you are with these scales. “I said an eight. It might be a seven, though, I just” —your voice cracks— “wanted him to believe me.” 

 “Oh, baby.” Remus wraps you up in a hug, cupping your head to his chest. “I’m sorry he treated you that way, sweetheart. It was completely out of order. I’m not going to let it happen to anyone else, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you say tightly. “I’m fine, and it’s not your fault.” 

Remus makes a tsking sound like he doesn’t quite agree. “Why didn’t you tell him you were with me?”

You shrug, a bit bashful. “I didn’t want to, like, name drop you.” 

Remus smiles, shaking his head in astoundment. “You’re absurd.” He gives your cheek a loving hold. His eyes lock on yours, steady and earnest. “We’re going to sort this, alright?”

“Oh, don’t involve me, please. Talk to him after I’m gone.” 

“I mean your cramps,” Remus laughs. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “But yes, after you’re gone.”

[simpjaes]

So Sweet. ― P.JS

The one where Jay, in all of his cherry-flavored thoughts, makes you cherry flavored too. requested here, here, and here 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― park jongseong x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT― 3.8k

CONTENT―   reader is jealous over nothing, NO THIS IS NOT ANGST, mostly just smutty stuff, food play, costume party (jay is wearing cat ears hueheuehue), alcohol is involved but it’s consenting, ya’ll fuck in [redacted]’s room and leave the mess for him to clean up. 

WARNING―  idk, reader is possessive and jealous, kinda crazy. very me tbh. jay kinda just shoves it in even tho it’s painful for her……and keeps going………

NOTE ― happy almost halloween :D this is very short, written with haste, and probably not that good but…….jay, yknow? jay makes it good. 

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― big fat huge cock jay, candy-play, costumes & cat ears, reader sucks his candy like it’s his cock and he nearly combusts over it,  pussy eating, cock stuffing, cream pie

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s gotta be the cat ears, you think, as you stare at your boyfriend from across the room. Everyone is a blur, but goddamn something is off tonight. Because, like, why is every fucking woman in this room staring at him like they wanna rip his clothes off?! 

Or, maybe it’s that faux-freshly-fucked blushy glow across his cheeks, or the blinking out of sync that comes paired with his drunken jokes and words. The atmosphere truly is making the usual, stoic, lame-ass Jay appear as nothing but an endearing cat-man who deserves a mouth on him. 

And you know, the fact that you came here with him, with matching ears and a fucking tail, should scare off all these little bitches, yet there they are? Suddenly just so interested in your man?! 

Jake is the first to notice the way you stare, raising a brow in confusion.

“You guys get in a fight or something?” He asks as his own animal-themed ears flop around when he turns his head to you.

“No–” You narrow your eyes at a woman who keeps glancing at your boyfriend as you say it, paying Jake little to no mind. “Just wondering why everyone has a hard-on for my boyfriend right now.”

Jake nods, pouting his lip out and raising a brow as if to silently say “Ah, makes sense.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better–” Jake starts, glancing around the room. “I literally don’t see anyone trying to get it on with him. I think you’re making problems.”

Pause.

“Please. Look at her!” You slightly raise your voice, pointing to a woman who is absolutely not trying to get on Jay’s dick, in fact, she’s literally eyeing Heeseung like she’s about to pounce. 

It’s really just the fact that she’s standing right next to Jay, and you caught her looking at him a few times, and also they had a “conversation” a few days ago. Nevermind that it was a “See ya after break!” type of conversation, or that she said it to everyone, and not specifically to Jay. It’s just that he responded alongside everyone else.

“You’re being annoying.” Jake finally starts to walk away from you, not actually annoyed but more-so amused at how jealous you’ve become solely because you’ve had a few shots. 

It’s not often you drink, after all. 

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Gonna go kiss on your man–” Jake laughs, now rushing his way through a crowd of drinkers and glancing at you when he whispers in your boyfriend’s ear.

You watch the way Jay falls into a face of concentration trying to hear his friend, and then see his eyes flick to you. 

Oh, well that’s just great. Surely Jake isn’t actually trying to hit on Jay, he’s probably over there snitching like a little asshole. Which sucks because this relationship with Jay is….it’s kinda new, you know? You don’t want to come across as the possessive type, or like– controlling.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You find yourself panicking when Jay stumbles his way over to you, a newly unwrapped lollipop hanging half from his lips as he sips his drink around the candy, and only spilling it once solely because he keeps his eyes on you rather than his footing. Jake is left behind, now beside that girl that clearly wants Heeseung to bone her into the next dimension, looking uncomfortable and left out. 

Good. She deserves it. 

“So…” Jay says as he stands next to you, leaning back against the wall and snaking one arm behind you to grab at your waist. “Someone’s jealous?”

You fold in on yourself a little bit, feeling that grip he gives to you that forces you against his side. 

“Of course not.” You mumble, sipping from your cup and still staring out into the room of people. “Why would you ever think that?”

“Jake said so.” Jay laughs now, leaning his head over to whisper under your ear. “You saying he’s lying?”

His breath sends a shiver down your spine just as the song changes to that of muffled bass, loud enough to have you wanting to cover your ears.

“Yes–” You start. 

“Huh?” Jay pulls back to look at you. 

“Yes, he’s lying.” You try again.

“What?”

Before you try to answer again, you feel him pull you. Around a corner, up, up, and away from the booming music one floor up. He lands you in someone’s room, fuck if you know who’s.

“Hm?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you look at him now. No one else in the room to muffle that croak in his drunken voice, those blushed cheeks, the fucking ears.

“I said, he’s lying.” You say meekly, unable to tear your eyes from the little split in his lip, reddened by the candy hanging from his mouth. 

His breath smells of cherry and tequila when he leans closer, tilting his head playfully to look into your eyes, as if to check if you’re the one lying. 

“Is that so?” He says, pulling the lollipop from his lips and sucking the taste down his throat, allowing that scent to waft through your nose yet again. “So you don’t mind knowing Jake’s ex tried to get my number?” 

Your eyes widen before they narrow. You cross your arms and look away from him.

“Of course not.” You lie. 

“And you wouldn’t care that I gave it to her?” He says now, hovering his lips near yours, eyes hooded as he plays with his words. 

That makes your blood boil though, and no longer can you sit here and pretend like you wouldn’t bring out the claws and start pulling hair if it comes to it. After all, that bitch was a homewrecker! Totally broke Jake’s heart and has the audacity to come to parties when she knows he will be here? And she asked for Jay’s number?!

And he gave it to her?! Jay chuckles when he pulls back, popping the candy back into his mouth as he studies the shift in your nonchalant vibe. He stays silent though, amused, waiting for you to argue until he notices the way your eyes fall. 

No longer annoyed, but hurt.

In all fairness, that silence he gave you after that had you thinking…he really gave her his number?

“Baby–” Jay soothes now, pushing the lollipop to his cheek with his tongue so he can speak as clearly as he can despite the slur in his speech from the drinks. “I’m joking.”

The relief washes over your drunken mind, feeling better but now back to being irritated. What’s with him right now? You don’t exactly want to be jealous, but the fact that he’s making damn sure that you were is kinda…like, is he into that? Does he want you to be possessive?

You’d be lying though, if you said he didn’t look hot as hell the other day pulling you closer to his side because a store clerk looked at you for a second too long. You might’ve even swooned a bit. 

“You’re a dick.” You finally respond, shoving him back playfully, unable to hide the relieved smile on your lips. “Looking hot-and-bothered all night, leaving me in a random room only for me to see you talking with some girl after finding you again.” 

He lends you his own laugh now, wiggling his eyebrows before popping the candy out of his mouth again. “Oh, her? The girl who Heeseung basically just finger fucked on the kitchen counter?”

You pause for a second, unsure as to why that sounds hot. Maybe just because she’s not after your man? Or maybe you like, wish you’d have seen.

“And you didn’t even take me to see?!” You go to playfully shove him again, but he stops you with his own gentle shove. Straight against the door, getting up real close to your face before whispering.

“So, you were jealous?” That slur in his speech is nowhere to be found before you taste the explosion of cherry. You’re kind of just staring at him, nodding out an admittance as his eyes fall lower, to where he’s tracing the bulbous head of that lollipop against your bottom lip. “Hot.”

“You’re going to drive me insane, you know that?” You finally say after the fourth or fifth time he’s swiped that lollipop against you, adding a translucent sheen to your already alcohol-sweet lips. 

“Mhm.” He nods triumphantly, now pushing the candy past your lips and into your mouth. “Should’ve came over and let me finger fuck you on the counter next, would that have made you feel better?” 

You roll your eyes playfully, ignoring the throb between your legs at his bold words. Jay isn’t typically this feisty, though you’d have totally let him do such a thing regardless of the eyes that could see. You just, like, didn’t really think he’d be willing to do something like that.

“I learn something new about you every day.” You chuckle out, noting the way he stares at your mouth and the way you suck on his lollipop. 

“Got loads of secrets for you, babe–” He smirks, taking initiative now and pressing his palms down on your shoulders, as if to make you lower yourself to the floor. Which, of course you do. You sink down, feeling the wooden door behind you sturdy and strong. As you do, he reaches over, locking the door.

What you think is about to be the best head of his life turns out to be him sinking down with you, slotting himself between your legs on the floor and pinning you there with his hands against the door. His head tilts cutely, the cat ears now looking more realistic than ever.

He doesn’t look like a curious little black cat anymore, he looks like he’s hunting for prey as he looks at you. 

“Look at you,” He says, more serious and without that smirk before he takes the candy back. “So, so cute.”

You’re melting against him after those words, feeling his tongue lick against your lips before you can even return to compliment. It’s sweet, red coated tongues creating a sugary mess, hums and pleasant sounds leave both of you at the flavor, only to deepen the kiss because neither of you can really get enough of it either. 

You reach up in the kiss, petting the ears on his head despite knowing he can’t feel it the way a real feline would, but he reacts all the same. Totally into it, even, nearly roleplaying as he groans. Maybe he’s just amused that you did that, or maybe he’s wondering if you’ll pull at his next or something. 

And in this kiss that seems to never end, he gets touchy. Pushing and pulling you to both give and take control, one hand moving from cupping your face, to gently holding your neck, up until it finds its way down down down, then up your scanty shirt. 

Totally lost in it, both of you are. With you skewing his ears to scratching at the nape of his neck, to him groping, and suddenly– prodding that same lollipop that you’d forgotten about between both of your lips. He’s amused when you lick it, the dulling cherry flavor coming back into the kiss with full force between you as he pulls back, red salvia stains all around his mouth before the smirk is back.

He watches as you take it back into your mouth, his own hand pushing it in and out, watching you chase it when he tries to pull it out entirely, only to shove it back in, deeper. That’s when he groans, pinching your nipple through your shirt particularly hard due to the sheer arousal that rushes to his cock. It lends him a little throb, a dribble of pre-cum messing his pants.

That about does it for him, pulling the candy out of your mouth now despite the way you chase it pitifully. He pops it into his own temporarily so he can go straight for what he not only wants, but needs right now. You watch him, a little dazed with the way his hair matches perfectly with the color of the cat ears, now a little crooked due to your meddling. 

He goes straight for it too, reaching under your skirt and practically tearing your panties off of you before he’s spreading your thighs wide and re-adjusting himself back between your legs. 

You squeak a little in response, proud of the unintentional sound because it’s very in character for the whole, you know, matching cat costume thing. And he only responds with another kiss, the sucker now removed from his mouth as he offers the flavor through his own saliva. 

Drinking it up is easy as you lick into his mouth, feeling the way his fingers toy with your folds, sliding up and down the slippery heat before–

“Jay–” You pull back, confused at the new feeling between your legs as you look at him.

His pupils are wide when he looks at you, mouth still slack from the kiss you were in the middle of, shoulder moving in tune with each push inside of you. He doesn’t respond, lost entirely in the moment and so fucking horny over what he’s doing to you right now. 

He kisses against you again, moving his hand faster, deeper, when his lips reach your neck. 

“Cherry girl.” He mumbles mindlessly, kissing down your neck and to the exposed skin on your chest that your shirt offers. “Tastes good on you.” He continues to mumble, working his way down as he kisses over your clothes up until he dips under your skirt. “In you.”

So, yeah, you’re being fucked with a well-abused lollipop and you’re not ashamed to moan about it because, holy shit.

His mouth is on you harder than it was when he was making out with you previously. Chasing the flavor, moaning for it, gripping your ass and pulling you closer against his tongue. You grip at the hard floor under you, unable to grasp anything at all through the sudden and intense jolts of pleasure.

And he doesn’t stop moaning, that sucker still being pushed in and out of you, only pulled out briefly for him to, presumably, shove it in his mouth before circling his lips around your clit with a hard suck. And he does that over and over again, like a loop of intended pleasure where he’s just fucking drowning in all of his favorite flavors. 

To not be into this is insane, to not grip onto something is even crazier. You reach down, pulling your skirt up just to see the way his eyes are rolled back, totally unable to make eye contact with you as he relishes in the red-sugar flavor of your cunt. The image alone makes you roll your hips up, which leads to him moaning louder for you to do it again, and again, essentially fucking yourself both on your boyfriend’s tongue, and his candy. 

In the heat of the moment, you finally find your grip in his hair, pulling it so tightly between your fingers that you know it’s hurting him, but he seems to like it. Another secret of his, you guess, as you keep doing that, pulling his hair, riding up against the pleasure he’s offering, and then– god the fucking ears. 

So cute on a man doing something so filthy and messy. You can’t hold it, you just–

“Fuck, keep going–” You stutter out in time with your hips, jerking back and forth both towards and away from him. “Right there,”

Jay is beyond pleased knowing he can make you cum this way. It wasn’t exactly in the plan to fuck his girlfriend like this tonight, but he’s glad he did. Especially seeing you chase the pleasure like this. He’s quick to maintain his rhythm, pushing the lollipop in right at the perfect angle, lips and tongue vibrating against your clit in a way that forces your hips forward, unmoving, stiff and you release. 

He can feel it, that sticky sweet slick dripping out of you, pulsing with each rush of pleasure. It takes everything in him not to abandon your clit and drink it all up, but he’s stronger than (barely). He’s good to you, waiting until that grip in his hair finally loosens before–

You’re pulling twice as hard at it now. Feeling the way he gives you no seconds to recover. He’s immediately pushing his face back down, licking everything that’s dripped out of you and letting it slide down his throat before finally pulling the lollipop out of you.

And he continues to lick, and lick, and lick, sucking and still fucking you with his tongue, lollipop gripped in his hand, pressing it against your thigh as if it’s forgotten about.

You try to wiggle away from him, the sensitivity too much from the image of him going feral, to the way he’s licking inside of you, to the forceful push of his nose right against your sensitive clit. And it’s so fucking crazy too, the way you’re still throbbing, the way you feel a second orgasm coming far too soon to the point you know it’ll hurt. 

You grip at his hair again, accidentally unclipping one of his ears as you have to force him to come up for air. More for your sake, in all honesty, but fuuuuck, it’s hard to hold him here with the way he’s looking at you now.

Lost, confused, even a bit…insane.

“I can’t–”

He tries to push back down, tongue falling out of his mouth when you keep that grip in his hair. 

“Jay, It hurts.”

“Fuck, baby,” He starts in an out of breath groan, totally forgetting about the nearly-disintegrated lollipop as it drops to the floor. “Just really, really need it right now.” 

In that action, you see Jay act more desperate than he ever has, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you further down, forcing your legs open despite the sensitivity. You swear you hear him purr when he looks between your legs, witnessing a wet mess of sweetness, only to see even more the truth of his words now. 

You see the truth of how badly he needs it in the way he takes that sticky hand of his and pushes it down his pants, not even unbuttoning them before aggressively palming against himself, panting out for you to give him more. 

God. You think you might be in love with this guy. Too soon.

Too fucking soon.

What does it matter if you’re sensitive? Fucking look at him. He’s dying for it.

And so, you spread your legs wider, embarrassingly wiggling down to lock your legs around your sweet, black-cat of a boyfriend who can’t stop furiously jerking off. 

“Take it then.” You coo out, wiggling your open cunt right in front of his lap.

He doesn’t take his time either, shoving his too-tight pants down his thighs, shifting onto his knees, and immediately stuffing his cock into that same sugary slick. He holds his breath at first before releasing an insanely broken moan at the grip of your cunt around him.

The moan nearly sounds like he’s in pain, muttering half-words that can’t articulate a damn meaning even if he tried. Totally lost in the tightness, he barely notices you wrapping your legs around his waist, suffering through the way he knows he’s big, and ignoring how usually he always takes it slow so you can adjust. 

Not this time. No, you feel each pulse try to rip your hole just to accommodate the thickness he offers. And he just moans more at the way you wince, practically drooling on yourself as you clench, and squeeze, and hold onto him as if you’ll fall off the face of the earth if you were to let go. 

His mind is clear enough to hold you in return though, only because he knows it’s about to hurt more before it starts feeling better for you. Unfortunately, his mind is also just foggy enough to give you the short relief of his thick cock leaving you, only to slam in again, harder. 

You cry out at it, nails nearly digging straight through his shirt as you instinctively try to hold onto him through the pain. He soothes you through each pleasurable sound. Out-of-breath hums and moans right in your face when he presses his forehead to yours, each painful thrust followed with a compliment and a grunt. 

“So good, baby, so–” 

“You’ve taken it so many times before, fuck, just a bit more–” 

“Just relax. Please, baby, I know it hurts.”

Eventually, your body does relax, accommodating his size and painful plunges into you. Up until the rhythm is natural and the slapping of where your bodies meet sounds like nothing but a pornographic mess of pleasure. 

Both of you now losing it, you let Jay be the one to take it. You let him fuck freely, as hard as he wants, as loud as he wants up until you’ve had at least two more orgasms and you’re barely able to open your eyes, better yet function.

You don’t know where he got this stamina, considering most nights when you’re together it’s a one and done thing. Then again, most nights he doesn’t fuck you with halloween candy, eat it out of you, then fuck it back into you. 

When he finally reaches his climax though. Oh, oh god. You think you might’ve let the word “love” slip from your slack lips upon feeling his cum inside of you, pumping out and filling you up beyond what’s normal for him. 

You wonder if that little slip of words made him last longer, because goddamn did he hold you closer, and fuck did he kiss you like he never has before through the orgasm.

And when it’s all said and done, the two of you are left out of breath, a sticky mess of pink-tinted cum, salty sweat, and nearly bruised lips. You’d say it should be embarrassing to walk out of whoever’s room this is, but you actually find yourself giggling into your boyfriend’s side during the walk of shame. 

Mostly because you left the room together to find an entire circle of people outside of the door, presumably listening in. Which is…yeah, they’re weirdos. Then again, the two of you didn’t really make it into the room before all of this started. You guess you’d probably listen too if someone was getting fucked against a door.

The giggling though, that comes from learning who owns the bedroom you just got candy-fucked in. His wide eyes narrowing upon witnessing who was in there is probably the funniest thing you’d seen all night. 

Poor Sunghoon. You’d have cleaned up the mess if your legs were working properly.

But they’re not, so, good luck to him, you guess.

[galactic-magick]

Be Proud: Viktor x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: Viktor's newfound fame as the co-founder of Hextech has taken its toll on your insecurities.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions and allusions to body dysmorphia/eating disorders

Author's Note: I starting writing this to play with the idea of how founding Hextech probably gave Jayce and Viktor celebrity status in a way and how that would affect them and people involved with them. It ended up turning into a vent fic about my body image issues as well, to the point I almost didn’t post because it got so personal. But I figured there’s people out there who relate and might find solace in reading this as I did writing it.

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You’re so proud of him. Everything he’s accomplished, everyone he’s helped. He’s living his dream, creating the future, and he’s being listened to and valued by topsiders. This is all you’ve ever wanted for him, and you would never think of standing in his way.

Which is precisely why you’ve never told him how insecure it all makes you feel.

Before Viktor got involved with Hextech, life was so much more predictable. You both could live your days together in peace, never being in the spotlight and rarely interacting with the highest of powers in Piltover. Life was hard, sure, but nothing you couldn’t manage without some tasteful spite and stubbornness. Viktor always knew his background would be a stumbling block for him up here, and you really weren’t much farther ahead, being from a title-less family with half your relatives from the Undercity.

But you’re not used to being around such glamour and poise. As Viktor becomes more involved with the Council and the wealthier areas of Piltover, making Hextech gadgets per their requests and being invited to fancy events, you’re left mourning simpler times. You’ll never get used to people coming up to you on the street while you bring your husband some lunch, or people staring at you during conferences when you’re just there to support him. Everyday citizens want to know and analyze everything about you, simply because you’re married to Piltover’s finest scientist.

You don’t like to bother Viktor with how it’s affected you, especially since he’s so good at handling it all. He’s always been so proud of who he is—where he came from—because he’s had to be. He’s not phased by the new fame as the co-founder of Hextech, and he easily shrugs off any comments people make about his past or his looks. To him, celebrity status is just a slight annoyance that occasionally distracts him from doing his work in the labs. But for you, it’s brought back every insecurity you’ve ever had about yourself.

You’ve stopped joining him as much at dinners and banquets because you fear they’ll judge how you look in a dress. You’ve stopped chiming in to interviews so you don’t say something stupid and embarrass him. You’ve stopped visiting him so much while he’s working so people won’t talk to or see you on the street.

You’ve started picking yourself apart in the mirror again, fussing every morning until you might cry. You compare yourself to the beautiful specimens that surround you, perfect in face, body, and manners. You start wondering if people judge how you speak or how much you eat. You wonder if people gossip about your family origins or your marriage. You wonder if you really, really, tried—if you could look like them. If you could be like them.

Viktor has started to stay back from some events with you lately, claiming Jayce is better at being the face of Hextech anyway. But tonight marks the five year anniversary of the company, and Councilor Medarda insisted there be a grand celebration.

The feast and dance will be held in her personal mansion, with the rest of the council and all the investors invited, as well as several reporters and journalists. Jayce will give an update address on what they’ve been working on, and what they hope to achieve by the bicentennial Progress Day.

This is something you can’t get out of and you know it. You drive yourself crazy trying on every dress in your closet, hoping to find something suitable for the affair. Half of them don’t even fit, which sends you into a further spiral, and the ones that do still don’t look good enough in your reflection.

Now the floor is covered in failed attempts at getting dressed, negative thoughts taking over your mind. Thoughts you know aren’t true, but you can’t stop thinking them.

He’ll be embarrassed to be seen with me.

I’m not good enough to be here.

I should eat less.

If I tried harder I could look like her.

I should check how much I weigh again. What happened to that damn scale?

They only invited me because they have to.

They probably talk about me—

You’re so deep in your head that you jump when you see Viktor leaning against the door frame, eyes full of love and concern.

“Are you alright, darling?”

You look down at yourself, wearing the last dress you had in your closet. It fits perfectly, but that’s part of the problem.

Viktor moves towards you as tears well in your eyes. He wipes them away with his thumbs, smearing some of the makeup you put on earlier.

“Talk to me,” he says.

“No.” you reply, avoiding his gaze.

“No?” he chuckles. “Why not?”

“It’s so stupid,” you sigh. “I thought I recovered from this. I should be able to handle this.”

“Handle what?”

“All this publicity shit!” you finally look at him. “I hate being watched and talked about and judged for what I say and look like all the time. I hate being asked about personal things and nearly passing out because I’m scared to eat in front of people. I hate all these superficial gatherings that are probably just for show-”

“You’re alright, you’re alright,” he cuts you off, dropping his crutch to the floor and wrapping his arms around you. “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been feeling this way? Why didn’t you tell me it was getting bad again?”

You sniffle, “I...I didn’t want to bother you with something that doesn’t seem to bother you. You’re so good at being confident no matter what people say about you.”

“You think it doesn’t bother me?” he questions. “You think it doesn’t hurt me every time I overhear insults about me or my home, let alone when they say it to my face? You think I don’t notice that most of these people wouldn’t blink an eye if I died if it wasn’t for what I can offer them?”

He squeezes you tighter before slightly pulling away to look at your face, “I’m just better at hiding what it does to me, darling. Having a drive to prove myself is not the same as confidence. Now,” he kisses your forehead, “Tell me why you’ve been in here for over an hour and still aren’t ready, hm?”

“Well,” you gesture to the piles on the floor. “Those ones don’t fit. I must’ve gained more weight but I don’t really know for sure because I can’t find the scale. And those ones I just don’t like. And this one does fit, but it’s tight and I’ve never worn something form-fitted to an event before. I don’t want to deal with comments about my stomach sticking out or my arms looking puffy or whether I’m proportioned to their tastes.”

“You truly believe they’ll say those things?”

“I don’t know what they’ll say. That’s what’s so scary.”

The tears return, falling slowly down your cheeks.

“Darling,” Viktor says softly. “No one will ever think or say anything as horrible as what you think and say about yourself. I promise you that.”

You nod, allowing him to soothe you, “I know.”

“I need you to tell me when these thoughts are getting bad. Do you understand? I never want you to go so long feeling this way ever again,” he tilts your chin. “Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good. Now, if you really don’t want to go, I’ll make up an excuse to get us out of it. But…” he slides his hands down your curves, “...it would be quite a shame if I didn’t get to see you wearing this all night.”

“You actually think it looks good?”

“Of course,” his eyes travel down your figure. “You always look perfect to me.”

“But-”

“No buts. Listen to me,” he faces you towards the mirror. “This body has gotten you through so much. I want you to be proud. Most of these people have never known a day of true hardship, but not you. You’re strong and you’re soft and you’re beautiful, and you’re the only one I’ll ever desire.”

You smile, knowing he means every word. You try to see what he sees, remembering every time he’s showered you with praise. You know he’s never once agreed with any of the horrible things you think about yourself. You know he loves everything about you, including how your body compliments his smaller, angular one. He’s never made you feel bad about anything, so why is it still so hard to believe him?

“Thank you, Viktor,” you say, turning to kiss his cheek. “I’ll try to be proud.”

“Good,” he nods. “Now, no more worrying about the scale or falling into old habits, alright? I want you to enjoy yourself tonight.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll try,” you laugh a bit. “You know what happened to it, though, don’t you?”

“Of course. I threw it out months ago,” he smirks. “You think I didn’t notice you checking it every single day?”

“You’re too good to me,” you bend down to pick his crutch up off the floor and hand it to him. “Let me just fix my makeup and we can go.”

“No more crying it off, alright?” he chuckles.

-

Jayce and Mel are waiting for you, welcoming you both to the celebrations. You can already feel the eyes and cameras on you, but you hold your head high, squeezing Viktor’s hand extra tight.

It’s been awhile since you’ve attended an event, but they always seem to go the same. Investors and council members come up to chat, mostly directing their questions towards Jayce. Sometimes they act as if Viktor isn’t even there, which boils your blood to the point you’ve said something on multiple occasions. Viktor has told you many times that he doesn’t mind being behind the scenes, and that Jayce is better at talking anyway, but you can never fully let it go. If people are going to gossip about him and your lives but not actually talk to him, you’ll gladly take the liberty of giving people a piece of your mind. You’d rather focus on lifting him up than dwell on your own self-consciousness, anyway.

One thing is different this time though—being that Viktor is a lot more handsy tonight than usual. He’s not normally one for public displays of affection, sticking to hand-holding and a few reassuring touches here and there. But tonight he can’t keep his hands off you.

It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, whether it be listening to the conversations, answering questions, or participating in the feast and drinks. He always has a hand on your waist or your thigh, gliding to your hips and stomach every so often. It seems mindless, as if he does this every time you’re out together, but you know he’s putting in a special effort to make you feel good.

And damn is it working.

You feel more at peace than you ever have since entering the public eye, proud of who you are and who you’re with. Who cares if people are whispering about their opinions on the Zaunite inventor? Who cares if there’s pictures of you in tomorrow’s tabloids with unflattering angles? Maybe all that matters is you’re having fun with your husband, and he’s making you feel oh so beautiful.

The night goes on for hours, attendees fizzling out until there’s only a handful left. You convince Viktor to dance with you before you leave, leaning against you and swaying simply. You wrap your arms around his neck, wiggling your fingers into his hair. He looks at you with such admiration, such devotion.

How could you ever doubt yourself under the gaze of those eyes?

“You lovebugs ready to head out?” Jayce approaches you both. “Viktor and I have a meeting with Heimerdinger in the morning.”

“Ah, yes, we do,” he briefly looks away from you. “But...perhaps we could push it until the afternoon?”

Jayce rolls his eyes and chuckles, “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you guys are in for a long night. Have fun.”

He waves and walks away, and you burst out laughing.

“Is it really that obvious?” Viktor jokes, returning his full attention to you.

“Viktor, darling, you’ve been all over me since we got here. I’d say the entire city knows how bad you want me tonight.”

“Maybe I want them to know,” he grins, sliding a hand up your dress and squeezing your thigh.

“Viktor!” you gasp, playfully slapping his hand away.

“Alright, I suppose we can go home first,” he pivots around, moving towards the door and extending his arm to you, “Shall we?”

You nod, quickly returning to his side.

Jayce was right, it’s going to be a long, lovely night.

[steddiealltheway]

It’s a cold Wednesday night in January that has Eddie turning the thermostat up and allowing the government supplied heat to fill the trailer. He glances up at the vents and gives them a quick middle finger, wondering if they bugged the place to observe him or make sure he isn’t spreading their secrets.

He doesn’t really care at this point if they’re watching though. They already held him at the hospital for long enough, poking and prodding as if he wasn’t even human. But he didn’t turn into a vampire or some shit because of those damn bats. No. The jagged, ugly scars littering his body served as a lovely reminder that he was ultimately human.

Eddie glances at a nearby mirror and cringes at his face, taking a look at the long scar running down his cheek, jaw, and neck. The Corroded Coffin guys all said it made him look metal, and he would throw in a, “Hell yeah,” before smoothly changing the subject to something that didn’t involve him for once.

He takes a finger and slowly trails it over the pale pink skin, wondering if there will ever be a day he won’t notice it.

“Eddie,” Steve calls out gently from the room down the hall.

Eddie jumps back and glances toward him, hand falling to his side and flexing uncomfortably as if he’s been caught doing something wrong.

“You okay?”

Eddie smiles and gestures toward the thermostat. “Damn thing wasn’t working for a minute there. You’d think with the amount of hush hush money they were able to pay all of us, they’d be able to give me and Wayne a better trailer.”

But Steve only crosses his arms and leans against the door frame, eyebrows raising gently. It’s not entirely accusatory, but it’s clear that he doesn’t believe a thing Eddie’s saying.

Although they’ve grown close while going through the same treatment and tests in Owen’s new secret facility, it still surprises Eddie how easily Steve can read people. More specifically, how easily he can read him of all people. “Just got lost in thought,” Eddie confesses while making his way back to his room as he sees Steve squint at the lights in the living area.

Steve steps out of the way as Eddie brushes by him and closes the door. He hope it’s enough honesty to end the conversation.

“What were you thinking about?” Steve asks, ignoring the signals Eddie is giving him.

Eddie sighs and runs a hand over his face and climbs back into his bed, quick to pull up the blanket around himself in an attempt to get some much needed warmth while simultaneously covering his scars from Steve. “Stuff.”

Steve rests his hands on his hips for a second and stares, mouth opening and closing for a moment before deciding against whatever he was going to say. Instead, he climbs into the bed with Eddie and joins him under the blanket, keeping enough distance so they’re not touching, but they can still feel each other’s body heat.

Eddie glances over at him, noticing the way the one lamp turned on in the room gives him a nice golden halo. He looks gorgeous and untouchable - exactly how Eddie used to think of him through high school and sometimes even now. The perfect golden boy. But despite the name Eddie gave to him years ago, he can’t ignore the flaws that Steve possesses, yet they somehow make him even more perfect to him. Or maybe just human.

Eddie shakes his head and glances away. He wishes Steve came over to smoke so Eddie could blame the drugs on the way his thoughts race when he’s next to him. Instead, he has to face up to his enormous crush on the perfect golden boy.

“Have any plans for Valentine’s Day?” Steve asks out of the blue.

Eddie snorts and glances at him, only to laugh harder when he sees the adorable look of confusion on his face.

Steve’s brows furrow but the edges of his lips quirk up. “What?”

Eddie pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to try to hide his wife smile. “Kind of random, don’t you think?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I never said I was great at starting conversations. But I was just thinking about what holiday is next.”

“The worst one,” Eddie complains.

Steve turns toward him. “And why’s that?”

Eddie sighs and let’s himself go on a tangent. “It’s the one day of the year where people feel like they have to do all this shit for their partner, and the rest of the year, they think they can just get by doing the bare minimum. And people are left realizing what it would be like if their ‘other half’ actually put in an effort day to day. And then for all the single people, it’s a day where love is shoved in their face, and they have to feel bad and sometimes disgusted by all the public displays of affection going on around them and… I just hate it all. The stupid chocolates in the red heart boxes and the teddy bears and big heart shaped balloons and roses…”

“I didn’t realize you had such strong opinions about Valentine’s Day,” Steve says with a laugh.

“Well, now you do.”

They both sit in the silence for a few moments, Eddie thinking about all the other things he didn’t even touch on about Valentine’s Day that he hates, while Steve is probably taking in everything he just said.

Steve bumps his shoulder and asks, “So, I’m assuming that means you have no plans.”

Eddie laughs. “That’s what you got out of that?”

Steve shrugs and looks away with a smile.

Eddie glances at his clock and notices it’s technically Thursday now, and in these early hours, Steve will usually either silently fall asleep or he’ll lay awake in the silence until one of his thoughts has to make itself known.

Either way, Eddie knows he’ll be up for a few more hours, but he’s never regret the sleep he’s lost since they’ve made this silent arrangement.

The bed shifts, and Eddie follows Steve’s lead, laying down fully and staring at the ceiling, trying his best not to reach out for the hand laying beside his. He wonders if he should add something to the ceiling like some type of mural with stars and whatnot.

He tilts his head to the side, envisioning how it would look in the lamplight since he and Steve refuse to sleep in the dark. Or maybe it’s just Steve and Eddie’s picked up on the habit of leaving the lamp on.

“Do you think you’ll make plans?” Steve asks quietly.

Eddie turns to look at him, at a lost for a moment before realizing he’s still on the Valentine’s Day subject. He smiles sadly, “No.” Steve glances over at him and holds his gaze, expecting more. Eddie sighs and gestures at himself. “I mean, I’m not exactly what people want to bring home to their parents at the moment plus with the,” he gestures to his face and drops his hand quickly, averting his gaze back to the ceiling.

He hopes Steve will let it go and not connect the dots back to earlier.

A silence settles between them, but Steve’s gaze burns into the side of Eddie’s face. Then, he finally asks, “Is that what distracted you earlier?” When Eddie doesn’t answer he continues, “I saw you looking in the mirror, and I know you usually go out of your way to avoid them.”

Eddie wants to question how Steve noticed, but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up about something that was just passively rather than intentionally observed. “Yeah,” Eddie states simply.

The bed shifts as Steve turns on his side to fully face him. “And you really think you can’t get a date because of them?”

Eddie sighs and rubs both of his hands over his face. “Steve, who is ever going to love me like this?” He turns and continues, “Privately, yes, someone could maybe get past the scars. But in public? You really think someone is going to be proud to say, ‘Here’s my boyfriend,’ and show off me?”

“Yes,” Steve says instantly as if he has no doubt in the world.

Eddie turns away, trying not to get choked up about it. Because how can he explain to him that while it’s nice that Steve has that confidence in him, Eddie wants Steve to be the one to be proud of him. To want him like that.

“Do you think my scars make me unlovable?” Steve asks.

“No! Jesus, Steve,” Eddie rushes to say and turns to him. He reached out and lays a hand over his side, feeling the way the skin puckers under the thin t-shirt. “These are metal as hell. Hot even. They make you more lovable if anything.”

Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and slowly pulls it off his side to hold it up, the scar on it being presented out to Eddie. “And this doesn’t make you more lovable?”

“Steve…” Eddie protests quietly as Steve pulls his hand close to stare at it.

“The scars you got protecting us. You think those make you less lovable?” Steve asks, pulling his hand close enough that his lips ghost over the skin.

Eddie lets out a breath that sounds like Steve as Steve presses a soft kiss into the tough skin. He stares at Eddie with a worried look in his eyes as he whispers, “Too much?”

Eddie shakes his head, too stunned to get the words out.

Steve intertwines their hands and pulls Eddie’s arm toward him. “These scars,” he says kissing the next one on his forearm, “Are beautiful on you.” He moves on to the scar on his elbow stretching to his bicep, lips trailing against the sensitive unmarked skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. “How could anyone hate these?” He asks leaving three soft, lingering kisses before shifting on the bed to hover above Eddie, still holding his hand but now against his stomach so he can press a kiss against his shoulder. “These scars show everyone what you were willing to sacrifice for us.”

As Steve moves to the scar on his neck, Eddie’s head drops back, giving him more access as he groans out, “Steve.”

“These scars,” Steve says, kissing up his neck over and past the scars, “Are exactly,” he murmurs as he kisses past his jaw and peppers kisses up his cheek, “Why I love you,” Steve finishes by pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth near where the scar that Eddie traced earlier ends.

Eddie glances up at Steve as he hovers over him, trying to make sense of everything he’s saying until it finally clicks. “You love me?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods and squeezes his hand before letting it go so he can lightly caress his cheek. “I have since you decided to be a hero and sacrifice yourself. Which was exactly what I told you not to do by the way.”

“I’ve never been great at following rules,” Eddie breathes out and reaches a hand up to run through Steve hair. “Steve?”

“Mhm?”

“I love you, too,” Eddie confesses.

Steve smiles and asks, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He pauses before adding, “You know, one time when I was little, I captured a squirrel and it may have attacked me and left a scar on my lip.”

Steve laughs. “Is that so?”

Eddie smiles and nods.

Steve’s eyes dart down to Eddie’s lips and he moves his thumb to swipe over his top lip. “You know, I think I see it.”

Eddie debates telling him that it was actually his bottom lip, but instead he just breathes out, “Steve.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks with a teasing smile.

“Steve.”

Steve keeps smiling as he hums, “Hmm?” When Eddie huffs, Steve fakes surprise with a gasp, “Oh. You want me to find the picture for you!”

Eddie groans, “Steve!”

“Uh huh?”

Eddie huffs and cups his face. “You are infuriating.”

“Is that s-”

Eddie interrupts him by taking matters into his own hands and leaning up to kiss him. He feels Steve smile against his lip before finally kissing him back.

Steve pulls away and breathlessly asks, “So, do you think you’ll have plans for Valentine’s Day now?”

Eddie’s head thumps back on the pillow. “Oh my god.” Steve laughs. “Oh my god!” Eddie says and shoves Steve off of him only to roll over so he hovers above him. “You were trying to ask me out this whole time?”

“No, I just wanted to know your opinion of Valentine’s Day.”

Eddie gives him a light punch to the arm and smiles wide as he stares down at Steve, lying beneath him in the golden lamp light. His perfect golden boy.

“I still hate it by the way. Even if I have plans now,” Eddie comments seriously.

“Don’t worry, I’ll put in the effort year round for you and make sure to keep you away from the public that day,” Steve says running a hand through Eddie’s curls before tracing it down the scar on his cheek in a way he thought no one would be able to do - lovingly.

Eddie leans down and gives Steve a quick peck. “I’ve also got some scars on my hips I might want you to check out.”

Steve laughs loudly and pulls him into a kiss that truly makes Eddie breathless, all while tracing his hand over the scar on his cheek. And for the first time, Eddie learns to love the scars adorning his body.

[only-1-a]

Imagining this within the first week of Charles and Edwin knowing each other. Charles has helped Edwin catch up on a BIT of what’s happened in the last 70 years, but Edwin can tell that Charles’ knowledge and strengths are not in history (finding out there was an even worse world war right after The Great War was certainly horrific though). So Edwin decides his best bet is to look in the public archives. Charles is sitting in the room with him absolutely bored out of his skull when he comments “Wow, you weren’t joking about not being great at people, were you?”

To which Edwin’s patience runs out, and he snidely responds, “Evidently not. If my researching the events of the last seventy years is so off-putting to you, then you can leave.”

Edwin was expecting some kind of token protest, but instead Charles just hops up, and says, “Cheers mate. See you.” Then LEAVES. Just like that. Edwin would like to be offended, but he supposes he did tell Charles to go. He just thought there would have been more to it than that? It almost feels…anticlimactic. At least he and Charles barely knew each other. Better to cut their losses now than get attached. Even as he thinks it he can’t help but feel maybe he was already growing attached.

So he spends the whole day digging through the archive and he learns so much about the past half century. It’s amazing and daunting just how much as changed. No wonder Charles hadn’t been able to go over even a fraction of it. It’s like the world is a completely different place.

He’s engrossed in his research when a head pops in through the door, and violently startles him with a cheerful, “Hey mate!” Edwin doesn’t have a heartbeat, but if he did it would be running a mile a minute from that fright. Charles is just grinning as he walks through the door. “I have to say, that’s my favourite part of being dead so far. I can just walk through walls.” Charles continues to chat happily, completely oblivious to Edwin’s shock.

Eventually Edwin gains enough of his senses back to interrupt Charles and say, “You came back.”

Charles just cocks his head, but he’s still smiling. “Yeah bruv. You’ve been here ALL DAY. The sun’s started going down. I know we don’t need to eat or sleep, but I figure you should take a break. Plus all the people playing football at the park left, so I got bored.”

Edwin doesn’t quite know what to say to that. He’s still working on the fact Charles came back. Charles hadn’t planned on leaving in any permanent way. He just went to do his own thing while Edwin did his. Yet instead of anything intelligent coming out of his mouth, he says “Football?”

“Oh c’mon! I know you had football even a thousand years ago. Yeah, I went to play with some other guys at the park across the street.”

Edwin snorts at that, and isn’t that a strange and wonderful feeling, laughing after all this time. He doesn’t even know if he did it often before he went to Hell, but here Charles has been making him laugh on and off for the week they’ve known each other. “Yes, we had football. You’ll have to explain how you managed to play a team sport without being seen by either team. You are right though. If it’s getting dark out, they’ll be turning the lights out in here soon. We might as well leave for the day.”

“Cheers. Mostly it involved messing with the ball so it went the wrong way when they kicked it. Oh! I kicked one over a fence. Do you think we can go grab it? How about your day? Learn anything exciting?”

Edwin leads them out, and now in a much better mood he shares something he thinks Charles will enjoy. “As a matter of fact, there was quite a lot about how music evolved, and styles from the Americas really took off since the 20s.”

[sarahisslytherin]

whatever you need.

matt murdock x reader

summary: matt murdock has enough problems. but when his upstairs neighbor is upset over her breakup, he can't help getting involved.

contains: talk of an emotionally abusive relationship. mentions of fem!reader. other than that it's all fluff.

a/n: am i trying to process my feelings through fanfiction? absolutely. am i ashamed? no. also so happy to be writing for my boy matt again! gif by @djo

word count: 0.8k

It’s been a long day for Matt Murdock. Work was shit, in spite of Foggy’s attempts to crack jokes and cheer him up. His body aches in too many places to count from the endless hits he took last night. So when he finally stumbles in through his apartment door, the last thing Matt needs is another problem. But as he cracks open a beer and takes a seat on his sofa, he can’t help but notice how the silence surrounding him is pierced by a ragged cry.

His head cocks to the side, listening intently to figure out where the sound is coming from. It’s the apartment directly above him, the one with the young woman he often would hear singing or laughing. That was until the boyfriend moved in. There was still laughter, but exponentially less of it. He recalls a lot more crying and fighting and slamming doors. It was like that for a while. He can’t deny that some nights the arguments had him itching to waltz upstairs and break that fucker’s nose for putting you through hell. But then he figured, it wasn’t his problem, and he had enough of those.

But it’s been quiet lately, and after putting two and two together, he’s realized it’s just you up there now. Just you, crying your heart out into the pillow before bed every night, scribbling in your journal in the morning, inviting friends over to distract yourself from the pain. The pain he wishes he could take away. He admits it, he’s grown fond of you. When you sing, he stops what he’s doing and drinks in the sound of it as if it were an angel’s song. He can’t help but overhear your conversations at times, can’t help but chuckle when you make a particularly funny quip. He doesn’t know what you look like, but he’s sure you’re as beautiful as you sound to him. How that ass couldn’t treat you right, he’ll never know.

He ignores your cry this time, the way he has for the last couple of weeks. But when he lays his head down on his pillow after another restless night on the streets and hears your whimpers, he simply can’t take it anymore. He throws on the first shirt he gets his hands on and a pair of grey sweats before racing up the flight of stairs keeping him from you. It’s only when he knocks on your door that it dawns on him he doesn’t have a plan.

His heart stops when he hears you shuffle inside, sucking in your breath and no doubt trying to conceal any visible evidence that you’d been crying. He hears the doorknob turn and the creak of the wood as he comes face to face with you.

“Hello.” you manage to say, your voice still a bit hoarse. “Can I help you?”

“Hi, my name is Matt. I live right below you.” he starts. He’s praying to every god that you can’t hear his heart panging in his chest. “I know this may seem odd to you, but I get the sense that you’re not okay. I mean, I used to hear some pretty crazy fights from up here with who I can only assume is your boyfriend-”

“Ex.” you interrupt him, arms crossed and eyes trained on the welcome mat beneath your bare feet. “Ex-boyfriend.”

Matt nods, taking a breath before continuing. “Right. The thing is, I’ve got a really good sense about these things. I don’t know, call it intuition. But let’s just say I’m not hearing any screaming matches anymore and, though that is a good thing, I can’t help but wonder if you need someone to talk to or just a hug or whatever you need.”

There’s a silence hanging in the air after he speaks. You watch him wring his hands together as he waits for your response. You also notice the way his sweet, brown eyes seem to look straight through you before you realize he can’t see you. 

“You want to give me a hug?” you ask, and Matt in your voice the way your mouth quirks into a tiny smile. “Because I’m crying over my asshole ex-boyfriend?”

“A hug, some takeout, a walk around town. Whatever you need.” he’s grinning too now. He picks up on the way you casually lean on your doorframe, arms still crossed.

“What are you, some kind of hero or something?” you joke, adding a faux air of suspicion to your tone. “Who sent you?”

Matt laughs openly at that, throwing his head back as he does. “No one sent me, I just don’t like to know there’s a pretty girl crying over some jackass in my immediate vicinity.”

“Not to be rude, but what makes you think I’m pretty?”

Matt just shrugs. “Call it intuition.” 

He definitely doesn’t need sight to feel the way your hand clutches his shirt and playfully tugs him through the door. It’s right then and there that Matt resolves on making your problems his problems as well.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @deadfables @misshale21 @dragonsfictavern @sweetercalypso @sheraayasher

[just-a-creep-babe]

Caught (NSFW)

(Creeps x Male! Reader)

Commissioned by @taboo-delusion tysm!! I really hope you enjoy 💖💞✨💖💓

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

BEN Drowned

When he first agrees to go for a snack run at the old abandoned gas station, he doesn’t expect it to be eventful

Despite being abandoned, the place is semi-regularly stocked by the proxies to use as a last-resort shelter and supply hoard in case anyone needs it

So it’s not like the building is used to seeing a lot of traffic, much less any kind of excitement

Which is why he never, ever in his undead life would have expected to walk in on what he does

Just barely half-concealed near the back of the store, BEN does a full-on double-take as he sees the newest member of the mansion naked, his legs spread and his cock hard and twitching as he pumps a gun in and out of his ass

It completely stuns BEN in place

He can't tear his eyes away from the shiny barrel rhythmically pounding in and out of the new guy's slick hole

With a low, whiny moan, he screws his eyes shut and throws his head back in sheer bliss, and it's like that's just enough to snap BEN out of it

He ducks behind a nearby shelf, the ghost of his heart pounding in his chest, and he prays he didn’t get noticed

When the faint moaning doesn’t subside, he realizes he’s probably in the clear

BEN counts down from ten to catch his breath, and then, with the adrenaline coursing through his system, he sneaks another peek

It’s filthy, perverted—a complete lack of respect and total breach of trust—but how could he not?

Acting on instinct, he whips out his phone, aims it at the pornographic scene unfolding just inches away from him, and hits record

Bloody Painter

It isn’t a particularly eventful night for Helen at first

Alone in the studio, inspiration just isn’t coming to him, and he finds himself zoning out in front of an empty canvas, hoping to get blessed with the miracle of motivation

When his phone buzzes, he initially doesn’t think much of it

It’s only when he opens it to a particularly interesting video that his lackluster night suddenly takes a turn

In a shoddy, poorly-lit building, the video cuts straight to the point with a guy squirming and whimpering, fully naked on the ground

He's fisting at his dick, whining under his breath, and at the same time, he's bouncing his ass against something dark and metallic

Squinting, Helen zooms in to confirm his suspicion; he’s fucking himself on a gun

If he wasn't so entranced by the sight, Helen might’ve wondered why the fuck this was sent to him

But his mind is suddenly blank, and the one thought he has left is who the fuck is that guy?

He racks his brain trying to think of anyone who might fit the description

And, suddenly, he realizes—that’s the new guy

The faintest hints of a smile ghost over the artist’s lips

He finishes watching the video, picks up a paintbrush, and brings it to the canvas

He gets the feeling that his next piece is going to be very inspired~

CandyPop

Candy generally doesn’t get too involved in whatever happens at the mansion

He gets along decently with some creeps, but he either doesn’t care about the others, or he’s grown to fully hate them over the years

Despite that, however, he adores meddling in other people's business

So when word starts spreading that the newest creep got caught and filmed jerking off with a gun, Candy just knows things are about to get exciting~

He asks around for a copy of the video, and right from the first watch, he's fascinated by the newest member

He can’t help but think what a good pet this creep would be to have around

Like, he seems kind of masochistic, a possible exhibitionist, and he likes receiving?

Sounds like way too much fun~

He watches the video an unhealthy amount of times, and although he isn’t welcomed at the mansion, he makes it a point to somehow meet this guy

The video gives Candy way too many ideas—which, for a demonic clown, is most certainly not a good thing

Unknowingly, it seems like the new guy's sexual habits are already garnering attention from some pretty dangerous entities

Whoopsies!

Clockwork

Clockwork regularly goes to that gas station

She likes the quiet solitude it offers, not to mention the weirdly cozy vibes and decent array of snack foods

So, naturally, when Toby suggests the snack run, Nat is one of the first to agree to join

She beelines it to her favorite spot in the building, the employee break room near the back, and as she approaches, she actually hears the new guy before seeing him

Is that… moaning?

Curiosity getting the better of her, she follows the sound

And right as she's about to stumble in on the big reveal, she's grabbed and yanked behind one of the nearby shelves

Instincts kicking in, she nearly punches BEN right in the face, but something stops her before she does

That look on his face

She pauses, notices the phone in his hand, and, combined with the sounds she's hearing, everything makes sense

Her face immediately flushes

Before she can stop herself, her eyes shift to the spot at the back corner, and, surely enough, she sees what’s happening

The new guy throws his head back, his body convulsing as he shudders and his cock twitches and throbs

He pumps the gun in and out faster, harder, like he’s approaching his climax

Before she can see anything more, before she violates his privacy any further, Nat spins on her heels and gets the hell out of there, too flustered to say or even do anything else

Dark Link

Like Candy, Dark doesn’t typically keep up with whatever the hell kind of nonsense happens at the mansion

So he only discovers the video when he's snooping through BEN’s files in an attempt to get the upper hand in their rivalry

As soon as he sees that video file, he knows he's in for a treat~

The guy, who he assumes must be a new member, isn’t too bad on the eyes to begin with

And when the video pans down to get a better view of just what he's using to jerk himself off, Dark needs to know more about him

He rummages through a few more files to find out more information on him, just for the fun of it

He honestly doesn't expect to do anything with the intel, but the deeper he looks into it, the more he wants to meet him

The more he wants to torment him

Technically, however, being on neutral terms with Slender means that he isn't allowed to do such things to members of the safehouse

So Dark realizes that he, unfortunately, will just have to wait for him to step out of the mansion's boundaries before trying anything a bit more... risky

If they do end up meeting, he plans on using the... intimate knowledge he has of him to embarrass him

And if they don’t meet anytime soon, he’ll simply have to content himself with replaying that video over and over and over again~

Eyeless Jack

Being more of an introvert, Jack doesn’t join the outing at the abandoned station

But as soon as everyone comes back, he can tell something is a bit… off

After cautiously asking around to find out what happened, he finally gets BEN to show him the video

And, let’s just say, Jack’s never been happier to have a mask concealing his face

He only lasts a few seconds in before telling BEN to turn that thing off

From an outside perspective, it probably looks like he disapproves of the creeps violating the newest member’s privacy

Which, to be fair, he does

But, more than that, he’s just really flustered about the whole thing

He doesn’t know how he’ll manage to face the new guy again

The next time they meet, Jack tries to act cool and natural, but he completely fumbles the bag and gets visibly flustered

If anything might tip the new guy off that something funky's going on, it's probably the way Jack acts around him from that point on

Homicidal Liu

Since Liu rarely uses the shelter of the mansion, it also takes him a while to find out about the incident

By the time he discovers it, chances are, the new guy knows he got busted, so most creeps are already in on his dirty little secret

It’s therefore a huge relief when the new guy initially meets Liu, and Liu doesn't seem to know about it

Their first meeting goes well, but, unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for Liu to find out about the video anyway

The difference between meeting the newbie normally and seeing how depraved he is when he's turned on is shocking

Next time he runs into him, it's almost hard not to gawk

Poor Liu gets too flustered trying to talk to him after seeing that side of him, so he inevitably ends up retreating into himself

Which gives just enough space for Sully to show face

And whew boy is Sully ever ruthless with the intel he has

They probably give the new guy whiplash if he wasn't previously warned about Liu's alter

As much as Liu was sweet and accommodating, Sully, on the other hand, takes pleasure in embarrassing the new guy until he’s squirming

He borderline starts degrading and dirty-mouthing him right then and there

And, unfortunately for the newbie, he very quickly becomes Sully’s new favorite plaything~

Hoodie

Also part of the gang going for the snack run, Hoodie has a sneaking suspicion it's going to be an eventful outing

Not necessarily because of anything, mind you—it's just a sort of premonition, if you will

And yet, even despite his intuition, it still catches him off guard when he hears that faint moaning coming from the back of the store

The sound leads him to BEN and Nat acting strange behind a shelf hidden off to the side

They don't notice him, so he stays just out of their line of sight as he peeks around the corner to the source of the quiet, shuddering breaths

And he absolutely can't contain that shit-eating grin on his face as he finds the newest member of the mansion unknowingly responsible for all of the agitation in the store

Fisting his cock, he quietly mewls and whimpers as he grinds his ass down against something long and hard that looks kind of familiar

Leaning in as much as he can without jeopardizing his hiding spot, Hoodie finally realizes what he's masturbating with

He’s about to pull out his phone, when Nat briskly turns and leaves

Right at the last second, he ducks out of sight, and when the coast is clear, he starts his own recording of the action

He doesn't know if he'll use it for blackmail, or just for his own... personal fun, but he figures it'll be useful to have, either way~

Jane the Killer

She originally hears the gossip about the new guy being an exhibitionist when she's out of town

When she returns to the mansion, Nat explains what happened, and Jane just doesn’t know how to react

He got caught doing what where??

She meets the newbie not too long after, and all she can think about while trying to make casual chit-chat is that she knows

She, for obvious reasons, doesn’t want to let on that she knows, and thankfully, her mask does a great job of concealing her expression

He doesn’t seem to notice what she’s thinking, and their interaction goes over pretty smoothly, all things considered

She gets the impression that he isn't a bad person, despite whatever kind of sexual habits he has, so she actually doesn't mind him

She's really not the type to kink shame, anyways

And so, after their meeting, Jane makes it a point to shut people down when they try to make rude or disrespectful comments about him

She hates bullying, and she's not afraid to stand up against assholes, even if she's alone in doing so, so she grows to become really protective of the newbie

She absolutely doesn’t let anyone tease him or make any kind of jokes at his expense

Whether he knows it or not, the new guy owes her big time for defending him so much

Jason the Toymaker

He’s one of the first “outsiders” to originally hear about it

He actually even gets his hands on a copy of the video

At first, he plans on using it for blackmail material as well

But as he watches through it, he can’t help but think how the new guy would make such a good addition to his collection of dolls

He could probably make him so nice and malleable, so deliciously obedient oh so easily~

And, really, he thinks, the mansion is already so full of creeps as is—would they really miss one measly little member?

Something about it—something about how pure and innocent, yet filthy and depraved the new guy looks as he fucks himself with a weapon in an abandoned gas station—it just kind of riles Jason up

And, being a very obsessive demon, it isn’t long before he realizes how badly he'd love to abduct the new guy and claim him

He thinks about all of the weapons he could use on him, all of the places he could test and push his limits to

It gives him way too many ideas

He makes it his goal to add him to his collection of dolls, and he’ll wait as long as it takes to get what he wants

Jeff the Killer

Jeff is minding his own business, for once, at the gas station during the snack run when he gets a text from BEN telling him to come to the back of the store

When he hears the faint moans and whimpers, he thinks BEN is playing some kind of prank

But boy is he ever wrong

He walks in on BEN sneakily filming the new guy, who’s bouncing up and down on a gun and panting like a depraved whore while he does so

Like most of the others, it takes him a second to process what he’s seeing

There’s no way he just walked in on that

He's too surprised to pull himself away at first, and when he snaps out of it, he realizes he's enjoying it too much to leave

He watches the whole show, even as the new guy starts moaning louder, even until his body starts shaking and his cock starts tensing and twitching as he approaches his peak

He can’t look away as the newbie throws his head back, plunges the gun as deep as it’ll go inside him, then cums all over himself in a sticky white mess

As he starts coming down from his high, both Jeff and BEN quickly sneak away to avoid being seen

And although Jeff doesn’t usually like newbies, he figures he might make an exception for this guy

Unfortunately for the new guy, however, Jeff's love language is bullying

And what he saw at that gas station is just perfect bullying material

And he doesn't plan on going easy on him just because he's new

Kate the Chaser

Since she’s antisocial, she’s hardly ever at the mansion, even despite being a proxy

She mostly just hangs around abandoned buildings, caves, half-decrepit huts in the woods—that kind of thing; and she feels very protective of those places

So when she senses a group of people wandering through what she’d consider her abandoned gas station, she makes sure to keep a close watch on everyone

She doesn’t actively see what happens with the new guy, but she definitely hears about it when everyone’s leaving the place

By overhearing bits of conversations, she's able to piece together what happened, and she develops a certain curiosity about the new guy

Kate teeters between states of consciousness, where, most of the time, she’s almost basically feral

But every now and then, remnants of her old humanity peek through

And hearing about this new guy somehow brings bits of her old self out, which piques her interest

It’s like a mix of curiosity and sexual fascination that has her sticking around to watch the new guy stumble his way back to the mansion

And even though she’d likely never confront him on her own, she secretly hopes that she’ll stumble in on him doing something like that again

Alas, until that day comes, maybe she’ll content herself with merely stalking him for now

Masky

Even though he and Hoodie are almost always together, he doesn’t join the group at the gas station

He needs to rest and recover, so he hangs back, but he immediately knows he missed out on something big when Hoodie comes back

And when Hoodie shows him the video, Masky's furious he missed out on it

Honestly, he gains some respect for the newbie for being so ballsy to pull something off like that

Unlike a lot of others, it doesn’t really affect the way he interacts with him afterward

He doesn’t get flustered, doesn’t tease or bully the guy about it, he doesn’t even mention it because, in Masky's opinion, it’s not that big of a deal

Really, all it does is make him more interested in seeing what other tricks the new guy has up his sleeve

He wouldn’t mind personally finding out about them~

Other than that, if he sees other creeps being excessive about their commentary towards the newbie, he’ll also shut them down alongside Jane

He figures it must suck for the poor guy, so he tries to minimize the damage however he can

Jane and Masky honestly kind of become the new guy’s lifeline after that incident

Nurse Ann

She also only hears about it much, much later since she usually stays off the grid

She’s masochistic, sadistic, and hypersexual, so she definitely gets having more… deviant sexual urges

Not to mention, with the sheer amount of strange people in that house, it really isn’t surprising that at least one of them would pull that kind of stunt

She doesn’t think too much of it as she goes about her work, but every now and then, she’s suddenly reminded of it out of nowhere

And she can’t help but think how fun it would be to use someone like that in her experiments~

So she keeps an eye out, and, similarly to Kate, she also hopes to have a random run-in with the new recruit

Honestly, she doesn’t even know who the new creep is or what he looks like—even if she did run into him—because they all look the same to her

But she knows that if she did get the chance to run into him, she also wouldn’t go easy on him

Honestly, Nurse Ann is definitely one of the more dangerous creeps, so garnering her attention is almost never a good thing

The new guy's unknowingly put himself in a lot of danger by attracting so many outsiders' attention

Offenderman

Oh, he absolutely adores hearing about this new creep~

He’s not technically banned from the mansion, but he’s on thin fucking ice, so he knows to be careful when he visits to meet him

Preying on people’s sexual urges is what he does best—it makes it all the easier to mold his victims into perfectly obedient little slaves~

So this new guy has him salivating at the thought of kidnapping him

Try as he might to be subtle about his intentions to whisk him away, Slender is, for obvious reasons, fully aware of what he’s trying to do

So new security measures are reinstated at the house, and the new guy is placed under extra protection

Which might be confusing to the new guy, since he doesn’t exactly know why he’s being so carefully protected

Why would anyone even care about a random newbie like him?

Even if he tries to ask Slender what the reasoning behind all the fuss is, Slender won't tell him because just knowing what Offender does can be risky

To counter the new safety precautions, Offender might try to bribe and manipulate creeps from the inside

And who knows; maybe one day, Offender will finally slip through Slender’s cracks and snatch up his prize~

Ticci Toby

Oh god oh god oh fuck

Initially the first one to suggest going for a snack run, he somehow blames himself for stumbling in on the new guy doing the dirty

He’s the first one to discover the scene, even before BEN walks in on it

And as soon as he sees it, as soon as he sees the new guy naked with his legs spread, squirming and whining with the barrel deep inside of him, Toby’s face goes red

He’s so close he can practically hear the slick sounds as he humps the weapon like a depraved little puppy

He’s frozen for a few seconds, too stunned to react, but once he comes to his senses, he immediately gets the hell out of dodge

But he doesn’t even make it all that far before he realizes—shit

There’s at least, like, five other creeps in here that might stumble in on him

He’s paralyzed in place as his mind races to figure out how to get everyone out without raising suspicion

But before he can think of a plan, BEN stumbles in on it and it’s all over

Not knowing what else to do, Toby practically makes a run for it because the secondhand embarrassment is too real

He comes face-to-face with Cody as he’s leaving, and when Cody asks what’s wrong, Toby blurts everything out before thinking twice

Needless to say, he’s insanely embarrassed about the whole thing, even though he’s not even the one who got caught

Poor guy can’t look the newbie in the eyes for a good few months after that incident

X-Virus

When Toby mentions a hideout off the side of an old highway, of course Cody wants to check it out

He thought it would be a nice, chill way to spend his evening, so you can just imagine his confusion when he runs into Toby, who looks like he just saw a ghost and is on the verge of crapping himself about it

Before he can even open his mouth to ask, Toby blurts everything out, and Cody is thoroughly stunned

The new guy is doing what? Here? Right now??

He can see that Toby is visibly shaken, so he does his best to calm him down

But the whole time he’s talking Toby down, all he can think about is how he wants this damn conversation to end so that he can go off and have a quick peek of his own

Like—it’s not his fault the new guy’s cute

And, surely, one quick little peek wouldn’t do anyone any harm, right?

Once Toby bails, Cody doesn’t think twice before going to the back of the store

A few creeps are huddled behind a shelf, watching the scene intently, and Cody gets his own spot to watch the show

He was already interested in the newbie before this, but now?

Oh, now he definitely wants more

Zalgo

The fact that he’s essentially the lord of the underworld, it’s nothing short of a miracle that news reaches him about a new sexually deviant creep

And at first, when the news does reach him, he honestly doesn’t care too much about it

Like, he’s basically the lord of sin—it takes a lot to impress him, even regarding sexual tendencies

It’s only one day, when nothing seems to be exciting him in the underworld, that he finally decides to investigate the new guy

What he discovers is actually fairly interesting, especially when he notices that other creeps and demons have developed an interest in him too

It means that the newbie might actually be more valuable than Zalgo initially realized

He gathers more intel on him, sending a few demons here and there to stalk him, all while remaining under Slender’s radar

And it, admittedly, is a long shot, but there’s a chance that this new guy might play a role in freeing the lord of the underworld from his imprisonment

He lays low for the most part, so it's not like the new guy is ever made aware of his presence, or even his existence as a whole

But the beginnings of a plan slowly yet surely start taking shape

Who knew such a small little mishap could cause such a stir?~

[crowleysgirl56]

Ok, so I wanted to do a deeper dive into this particular passage of Good Omens:

For context, this is at the climax of the book, they’re at Tadfield airbase, the horsemen have been dispensed with, Aziraphale has his body back, and Satan is about to claw his way out of the pit.

In most of the proceeding chapters involving Crowley it talks a lot about how scared Crowley is. He is very scared of Hell.

One could perhaps say maybe he is scared of them due to The Arrangement, but that is never explicitly stated. I think it has more to do with Hell is bad, and Crowley has spent the majority of the book being yelled at by some entity through the radio or TV telling him how he’s going to be in super amounts of trouble when they get their hands on him. He is just scared of what will happen. When he comes across the book shop burning he doesn’t cry for his lost friend. He curses Aziraphale, and I think it’s because the one person who may have been able to keep him safe and protected from Hell is now gone.

So when he thinks to himself (as shown in the above screen shot) that there is now nothing left for him to lose, this is why I never thought (upon reading the book the first time that is) there were any romantic feelings between him and Aziraphale. I know that technically he had already lost Aziraphale. But by this point he was back again, and back in his body. If there truly were romantic thoughts between them surely the idea of losing him again would come up.

I have read so much fanfiction, some old, some new, and what they all have in common is the detailed inner monologue of Crowley’s turmoil over his feelings for Aziraphale and how he doesn’t feel like he can act on them. In the book we get nothing of the sort, from either character. Even when they’re separated there is hardly ever any description of them thinking of the other except occasionally to frame a short reference to something. Reading the book I never got the impression that there was anything more than two ethereal beings spending time and proximity to each other and doing work for each other for no other reason than they’re essentially a bit lazy.

I think they’re only queer coded for the fact that there’s the line about Aziraphale appearing “gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitric oxide”, and Crowley is, well, very Freddie Mercury coded. Them being seen as gay together and all the gay slurs in the awful racist scenes of Aziraphale body hopping about in culturally indigenous people after the bookshop fire has more to do with the very typical 80’s/90’s trope of “being gay = comedy gold”, than them actually being together romantically.

I think the reason why they were shipped so much after the publication however is for the same reason we ship so many male couples (or female couple) in modern media, why we’ve always shipped them: because of the complete and horrid lack there of, of proper queer representation.

If you’ve ever seen the magnificent Russel T Davies TV series It’s a Sin, there is a wonderful scene where the character Ash starts a job in a school library and the headmaster asks him to go through all the books and find any book that has queer love scenes so they can be removed. Ash then gives a most beautiful and impassioned speech (albeit it turns out the speech is just in his head) of how there is nothing. Absolutely nothing. There is nothing to the point where they are nonexistent. They are invisible. They are not seen. (Or like, something to that effect. I tell you though, it’s bloody brilliant).

So I think that’s rather the point really. You have two iconic characters, albeit supporting bit characters practically, and I think a lot of our minds automatically get drawn to wanting to put them together because of the sheer lack of queer couples. People have been doing it for years from Frodo and Sam, to Harry Potter and Draco (or Ron I guess), to Sherlock and Watson (even before the Benedict Cumberbatch show. Also as an aside let’s not get into how obsessed people got about Sherlock Holmes back in the day when those books were first published. The obsession was the reason Doyle killed the character off the in first place, then after getting letters from people telling him they were literally going to kill themselves, the reasons why he resurrected him again. Don’t tell us that modern day nerds are weird and obsessive. We’ve ALWAYS been like this).

It’s for this reason why queer representation is so god damn important. Why I still support the idea of Good Omens season 3. Because regardless of how the characters were originally intending to be represented in the book, it’s very clear now that they are so much more than “Just friends”. And we NEED that! Whether you subscribe to the idea that they will be physically intimate with each other, the fact remains is they love each other. They love each other immensely. And that comes from years of Terry Pratchett (and the other guy) accepting that canon and telling fans that it’s true. Because Michael Sheen made a choice and held a belief about how he saw his character and then David Tennant followed suit. That literally tens of thousands of fanfiction writers have decided the same.

So that’s my take. I don’t think loving each other was ever intended that way in the book, but in the last 35 years their story has morphed into the ineffable husbands that we now know.

What are your thoughts? Have I rambled on long enough to make any sense? Do you agree? Have I missed something completely obvious and gotten it all wrong? Keen to hear thoughts.

[daisynik7]

I know I loved you from the start

“Tell me.”

You cross your arms over your chest in defiance. “No way.” 

Nanami smirks at you, forearms resting on the table. “Pretty please?” 

He’s asking you when you first knew you liked him, a question you’re embarrassed to admit the answer to. And it’s not fair when he looks at you like this. The twitch of mirth on his lips, the soft gaze in his eyes, his fingers inching towards yours, yearning to be closer, longing for a touch. He’s making it very difficult to resist. 

Still, he underestimates your stubbornness. He’s not going to get it out of you that easily. Adamant, you shake your head, pressing your lips together tightly, not giving in. 

Laughing, he finally relents, relaxing in his seat, holding his hands up in surrender. “Fine. I’ll let it go.” 

The two of you are in the break room, finished with lunch, neither of you eager to return to your separate cubicles. It’s just you and him, though there’s still that risk of any one of your colleagues walking in on something they shouldn’t see. A longing glance, a tender touch, a chaste kiss. Your current romance is a secret to the office, and it shall remain that way for the time-being. Involving others makes it complicated, and one of the things you enjoy most about being with Nanami is how easy it is. 

The reason you’re reluctant to answer his question is because from the beginning, you liked him. Smitten is the better word for it. He was the new hire that nearly everyone fawned over the minute he set foot through the door, and you were no exception to his quiet charm. His obvious physical attraction and even more evident kindness made people gravitate towards him. But it was something else that caught your attention on his first day of work: a box of warm croissants from your favorite bakery that he carried with him to share. You marveled at the wonderful goodies with a bright smile on your face, rambling on and on to him. How the owner of that bakery studied patisserie in the heart of France before moving to Japan. Why the pastry is so delicate, due to the number of laminations. The butter they use being imported from Europe and how it really makes a difference. Nanami listened to every word of it intently, nodding along with a polite smile on his face. 

It's so silly, so insignificant, so trivial, it’s not even worth mentioning. And so you don’t. 

You’ve exhausted as much of your break time as possible, finally ready to return to work after you clean up. You’re at the sink, rinsing both yours and his container under the faucet. He stands behind you, waiting. Watching.

The sudden slide of his hands on your hips startles you, but you don’t look back. Instead, you hold your breath in anticipation, shuddering slightly as he gently presses his chest to your back, his mouth grazing the shell of your ear. “For the record, I knew from the very start,” he whispers, breath warm and ticklish on your skin. 

Before you can turn around to face him, Nanami’s already walking away, leaving you alone with wet hands and a racing heart.

Author's Note: Part of the past lives vignettes series! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune. Title inspired by the song "From the Start" by Laufey. Thank you for reading!

[anakinstwinklebunny]

hey queen i love ur writing!!! i was just wondering if you’d be down to write anymore dad!sam monroe stuff? i read ur last one and i loved it! it’s so rare to find sam stuff, let alone him as a dad el oh el 🙋‍♀️ if not it’s rlly cool ! i’m a big fan of u diva 💜

Author's note: now that's a really sweet message. I HAVE FANS OH MY AND I AM A DIVAAAAAA (instantly have Beyonce song in mind that existence i found out from tik tok)

TW: sam being a dad (lmao)

Dad!Sam who definitely got at least (and at frist) being yelled at by his mother after she found out you're pregnant and sam's going to be a father! But from the beginning she was all supportive and willing to help you

Dad!Sam who got that hardened, sometimes distant look, but when it comes to his kid? Pure, over-the-top, protective dad mode. He might be rough around the edges but the second his baby is involved, you and everyone can see this warmth in his eyes.

Dad!Sam who's definitely the kind of dad to insult every other kid but not his cute angel. He'd also give this pure 'dad look' whenever someone wants to mess with his kid

Dad!Sam who's the type to stay up late, laying on his son's bed, the little one cuddled to his side and (depends on the age) babbling/lisping about his day or anything he has in mind. Although Sam is not great with giving adive, hell, he often doesn't want to do this (out of his experience in life - or his lack of confidence to be in position to give such) yet he'll try to be honest, in the kidness way possible for SAM MONROE, saying something like - "life's tough, but you're tougher than anything out there" in such gentle whisper

Dad!Sam who became such a cuddly bear with his son. Often he'll just scoop him up and hug him close, inhaling the toddler's soft hair and pressing a light kiss there. Or sometimes he forgets to tuck his baby boy in his bed because bed time is already over and his mother (or you) have to wake him up, the teenager that's all cudled under a blanket with his twin, only for sam to blink blindly as curse under his nose without thinking

Dad!Sam who, after building a house with his father, started loving those little projects for his kid - whenever it was fixing a bike, or building a treehouse, a swing in the garden, he cherished it.

Dad!Sam who definitely called his son "kid"/"kiddo"/"buddy"/"little man"/"little guy"/"sam junior" (although your son was far from being named sam)

Dad!Sam who may seem like a guy who won't take responsibilty for his child, especially in that young age and with problems he had dealt with, but sam wasn't such bastard. He was extremely present in his son's life and wouldn't miss any of his big or little achievements, So, your pregnancy really did mature him

Dad!Sam who has no idea how to cook but tries his damn best, especially when his mother tried to teach him some recipes. But, Sam being Sam, burns most of the food - especially pancakes that your son loves. "this can't be that hard, right?" he'll mumble under his breath when yet another pancake turned out to be crispy

Dad!Sam who's not exactly 'the father of the year' material but he swears he's doing his best. He might not know how to do all the "kid" stuff, but he'll squat down to his son's eye level, ruffle his hair and try to figure things out on the spot. There's this tough softness to him, the way he tries to talk to his son seriously, like the little guy gets it all, even if half the time he's just babbling back at him

Dad!Sam who isn't one for lullabies, but he'll sit by his son's bed in the middle of the night and again sam being sam, humming soft rock tunes while letting the boy hold onto his hand if he can't sleep or had a nightmare

Dad!Sam who doesn't mind his boy clinging to his leg or, when sam's sitting on the floor, the little guy clambering all over him, especially pushing himself under sam's arm so he'd hug him

Dad!Sam who tries to hide this gentlesness he has but it's clear it doesn't work whenever he'll fix the boy's shirt, or very gently dress him up, softly talking to the boy random things or when he brushes crumbs off his son's chubby cheeks

Dad!Sam who's obviously having this proud dad face when he sees his boy taking first steps with you. And when the giggling toddler will land on him, he'll just catch him, murmuring "now look at you, becoming a big guy already..wow"

Dad!Sam who's natural when it comes to showing his son simple things, like picking up sticks or skipping rocks. It's quiet, no big lessons needed, just Sam kneeling down, guiding his son's tiny hands and watching with that rare grin when he actually gets it right "just like that buddy" he'll say, pride in his voice as he watches his kid grope all over the tecture of rock. It's just two of them sitting by the lake like it's the most important thing in the world, while you are in the background with both his family and yours

Dad!Sam who every night, does that little routine, where he tucks his boy in, his big hands gently patting the blanket down. He'll smooth back his kid's hair, fingers lingering just a second longer, and whisper "goodnight, pal" his son reaches up, as usually, fingers trying to grab at his dad's shirt. So sam stays till those cute little fingers go slack, and when the little guy is all asleep, sam will kiss his forehead a few times

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless

[hannieehaee]

Hey! I was wondering if you could write about one of the svt memberd being super good friends with the reader, like touchy. And everyone else is begging them to get together? 💛

content: f2l!chan, afab reader, seungkwan is far too nosy and too involved for his own good, fluff, etc.

wc: 1485

a/n: i wrote about channie since i think the while friends to lovers thing fits him super well hehe i hope u enjoy <3

masterlist

you and chan had been good friends for a good while now. well, no. it had been further than a good while. you'd known each other since you were young children.

despite chan's life taking a very drastic turn very early on upon his decision to become an idol, the two of you remained friends regardless. your friendship was truly one for the books. to chan's parents you were considered part of the family, which allowed the two of you to spend almost every waking moment together.

this pattern followed you into adulthood, a time in which you somehow becoming even more attached to the hip. his packed idol schedule never really got in the way of your friendship since chan would always insist on having you tag along, allowing you to take the role of one of chan's personal staff members in order to keep you as close to him as he could. this resulted in your friendship extending onto the rest of the members, who had known you since chan had first joined the company, practically treating you like yet another member of their family due to your constant presence.

now, your friendship with chan was quite special. the two of you were the closest duo that any of the members had ever seen. if anyone thought that chan was touchy with any member of seventeen, they surely hadnt seen how touchy he was with you. his hands were never off you for too long, nor his eyes. he was in constant watch of you, dragging you away from his members if they ever dared steal you away. if chan had a hotel room booked for tour, you were sleeping in bed right beside him. if he was at dance practice, he was cuddling you on the hardwood floor during his breaks. the boy practically broke out in hives if you were not in his arms, and the same could be said about you.

this was something the members used to find endearing; with the operative words being 'used to.' when you were teenagers, they had all seen it as cute and innocent puppy love between two childhood friends. however, the expectation had been that by the time the two of you turned 20, you wouldve snapped out of it and realized your very clear feelings for each other. but contrary to their assumptions, the two of you were now on your 24th year of age and had yet to move past the label of friendship. the thought of the two of you uselessly repressing your feelings for each other had most of the members going insane (mostly seungkwan) by then, which was something a few members had recently started to make known to their youngest brother.

~

one of the first few times in which seungkwan chan's friends began to show their frustrations at his lack of action in making you his took place on a regular afternoon. seungkwan and chan were walking together into the halls of the hybe building, with seungkwan suddenly inquiring as to why he didn't just close the deal with you and made it official.

"i told you it's not like that! we're just friends, that's it", whined chan for the nth time that week.

"i dont buy it. neither of you has ever been in a long term relationship. you're just playing the long game for no reason. she likes you, just ask her out!", seungkwan began to get exasperated at the stupid obliviousness of his friend.

"we work too much, it's– we have no time for relationships."

"'we'? see! you come as a package deal. just date each other!"

"hyung, just drop it. it doesn't mean anything," he groaned before parting ways as chan went onto some individual schedule and seungkwan joined vernon to head over to do a live together.

"what was that about?", inquired an unsuspecting vernon.

"asked him about y/n again."

"ohhh. don't worry about it. they'll see it for themselves one day. it's too obvious."

"yeah. guess you're right."

~

another instance in which chan was yet again bullied over his lack of self-awareness of his relationship with you was only a few days later. mingyu and seungkwan had just happened to walk in on you and chan playing badminton in the practice room. chan was wrapped around you from behind, hands holding onto yours, guiding your movements as jun played on the other side of the net. you were a mess of giggles as the ridiculous scene played in front of seungkwan's eyes.

"why do you look so disgusted?", spoke up mingyu, noticing the scowl on seungkwan's face.

"he's just so– he's an idiot! that's the love of his life! can't he just ask her out?"

"hmm. you're right. don't worry too much about it. i mean, look at them. it's only a matter of time."

"they're wasting years they could've spent together. god, why is he so dumb?", he wondered out loud, only earning a chuckle from his friend as the two of them joined in on your game

~

the next and final time seungkwan felt the need to express his frustration at your stubbornness had been upon walking into the practice room to find the two of you cuddled up on the floor. cuddled up might've been too light a term, seeing as you were laying completely on top of him with your face buried into the crook of his neck. your arms were nowhere to be found as they were dug into chan's hoodie, likely holding onto his bare back.

seungkwan scoffed at the sight. his friend looked far too content to be cuddling with a platonic friend. you looked too content to be cuddling with a platonic friend. the domesticity of it made seungkwan sick (okay, maybe he was being dramatic, but the two of you were far too frustrating to him!), causing him to walk over to you with judgement in his features.

"really?", was the first word out of his mouth as he stood over the two of you.

"wha ..?", chan tilted his head in confusion.

"this is platonic?"

"hyung, not this again ...", he groaned out, burying his head on your neck for a change.

you began to groggily sit up, now sitting on chan's lap rather than laying on top of him, "what are you guys talking about?"

"you know! there's no way you dont," seungkwan squinted his eyes at you as an annoyed look made its way onto his face.

"what?"

chan unburied his head from your neck, "he keeps insisting i ask you out because he thinks the way we act around each other isn't entirely platonic an-"

seungkwan interrupted before he could finish.

"our friendship is platonic. you ... you're a couple that's just too scared to put the actual label on it. you're driving me insane. either go out or stop being all over each other at all times!"

chan groaned out at his friend yet again, dropping his head to your chest as he hugged you closer to him. he took a breath against your chest before lifting his head back up, shooting his friend a glare before speaking up again.

"fine," he then turned to look at you, "will you be my girlfriend?"

his tone of voice sounded fed up, making anyone think that he did not mean his words. you, however, still sleepy and not fully understanding the context of the situation, lit up immediately at his words.

"yes!", you grinned at him, ignoring the presence of seungkwan and any other member who was now paying attention at the scene seungkwan had formed.

chan had to do a double take, staring at seungkwan and then darting his eyes right back at you, "w– what? you like me back?!"

"'back!'", seungkwan exclaimed with a gasp, "i knew it!"

"kwannie, shut up," it was seungcheol interjecting this time. about five members were now invested in the scene in front of them.

"yeah, of course i do ... were you not being serious?", you seemed put off by all the attention, but still putting all your focus on chan, who was still holding onto you as his wide eyes bore into yours.

"yes! i mean no– yes, i was being serious! be my girlfriend? please? wait, no. i wanna do this in private. c'mon, baby, let's go," he rushed to get the two of you up, grabbing your hand as he led you out of the room in a hurry, huge grins glued to both your faces as you giggled at each other.

seungkwan was left standing there, completely flabbergasted at how quickly it had all unfolded. suddenly he felt a hand pat his shoulder and a voice speak right next to him.

"huh. guess you were right," it was hannie.

yeah. he was right. now he could finally have peace knowing he had been successful in matchmaking his most stubborn friend.

a/n: chan asking reader out was inspired by that one tiktok of the guy who asked his bff to be his gf on video but she didnt know he was recording and she was all like 'yes :D!!!!' n he was all like ':00 okay!!!' idk i just found it so cuteshsjos

[temis-de-leon]

You just have to keep trying

Characters: Mammon x gn!MC

Main Masterlist

C/W: first kiss. There's alcohol involved, but they're both completely conscious about what they're doing. OOC I think, but I'm literally half-dead from sleep right now

A/N: I'm planning on trying to post something else this weekend. This is just a sleep-deprived little treat <3

.

The night had been frantic, although MC doubted they would remember half of it in the morning and caring seemed useless; despite the sweat, the loud cheering, and the music piercing their eardrums, their smile was wider than ever before. They’d never felt happiness so pure in a long time, maybe ever, and if their heart dared beat any harder, it would surely come flying out of their chest.

Not even their fingers behaved properly, seemingly too eager to touch, grab and never let go and, judging by the neediness in Mammon’s embrace, it appeared he felt the same. Both of them were trying to absorb as much as possible from the other.

Did he always smell this good? His perfume had almost worn off, but the essence was still there and, after such a long night full of drinks and cocktails, he’d gained a certain sugary scent mixed with the bitterness of human alcohol.

“Now you can enjoy the party too!” all the brothers had said hours ago while presenting the obscenely wide selection of bottles.

And enjoy MC did.

They were about to enjoy it again, actually, with their bones vibrating to the rhythm of the music and their breath shattered in excitement, when Mammon suddenly put his hands on their shoulders and stared at them. His cheeks were blushed and his eyes showed softness, something only they were allowed to see, and, adding that to the affection with which he was rubbing circles into their skin, MC was finding it extremely difficult to breathe properly.

“So…” he started, his whisper barely audible under the synthetic melody from the dancefloor. They nodded encouragingly, urging him to keep going. “Did you like it?”

“Did I like it? Hm, let me think…”

“C’mon, don’t be like that!”

MC chuckled at his feigned exasperated expression, mindlessly giving themselves the freedom to intertwine their fingers behind his neck. Mammon dropped his hands in return and hugged their waist to bring them closer. Leaning in and showing him just how much they had liked their first kiss was a strong temptation, but the need to tease him was way more powerful.

“I give it a solid 8 out of 10” they finally said, exaggerating an academic tone to make the joke clear. He gasped in surprise and MC fought hard to hide their smile. “Might’ve been better if we weren’t interrupted”

Which was completely true.

The music had been nothing but spectacular the whole night and their feet already hurt from all the dances they had shared with all of their demon friends in those long hours, especially Asmo, so of course it was fate that the Avatar of Lust would be the one to open the storage closet door just in time to see his older brother finally asking MC permission to kiss them after a heartfelt declaration of love.

“Damn Asmo…” the demon muttered under his breath. Then, turning as fast as a switch, he hid a cheeky smile under a hand and dramatically rolled his eyes, as if doing MC an immense favour. “Let’s have another one, then”

“You can only have one first kiss with someone, dummy” they chuckled, taking a strand of his hair between their fingers and wondering if they really cared about the specifics.

“Then we start over”

He broke the contact between them, leaving MC cold and lonely despite being a mere metre away in a storage room with no open windows or AC.

“Listen well, human!” Mammon exclaimed in a theatrical tone, one hand to his chest and the other gesturing elegantly in the air. “I am the Great Mammon, Avatar of Greed, and I was wondering if you could… maybe… y’know, like, let me give you a kiss…?”

MC’s eyes were open wide in surprise, but still, their smile occupied half of their face. They launched forward while laughing in delight and excitement, landing on his lips but unfortunately clashing their teeth together.

“OW!”

“Well, that was a straight 5”

“It was your fault entirely, idiot!”

“Let’s try again, then”

There was a beat of silence where, they could swear, both of their hearts stopped at the same time. Multicolour lights drew the outline of their faces from underneath the door and the music made the glasses on the shelf tremble, but MC couldn’t stop looking at him.

“Maybe this time I have to be the one to do it” they muttered, their focus shifting completely from his blue eyes to his partially opened lips. “It’s obvious you’re awful at it”

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

M’kay, I’m wondering how would period sex with Vampire Steven Jake and Marc be like? Anything you want, but if this ask makes you feel uncomfortable, it is totally understandable! 💋

I'm okay with that! <3

I'm so sorry it took me a millenial to finish.

Period sex with the Vampire Moon boys:

Cw/triggers: Smut, nsfw, blood, oral(f! receiving).

A/n: Okay I will say this: Vampires + Period = a pretty cruel combination.

Of course the boys hate it when you're in pain every month but its safe to say they just can't turn off their needs and especially not when it involves blood. You basically have them to keep you clean, and they can get to feed too.

Jake

You're pretty much doomed if he senses you're about to get them. Literally smells you ovulating a mile away. Has no self control especially when he just got back from hunting, being all exhausted. Then he remembers you being on period and gets hungry on spot again.

The first thing Jake usually does is fingering you, getting you prepared before diving down to lap away at your already overstimulated pussy so he can get some feeding done while at it.

He enjoys giving you orgasm after orgasm with his mouth before giving you the final one with his cock. You're a whining mess after Jake would be done with you.

In the end, he just licks his lips, satisfied with himself and his achievement.

Steven

He already starts getting suspicious when you're having an eating urge days before you're about to get your period.

Smells it the second your ovulation starts.

Good lord have mercy on you when you're having them and Steven is around. Not that he's worse than Jake or Marc, but he is a goddamn enjoyer when it comes to eating you out. He doesn't care about the blood, he would gladly spend hours dipping his tongue into you no matter how messy he gets.

Steven this absolute madman will only stop if you're begging him, otherwise he'd lose himself in it and spend half a day down on you.

It really helps him when he gets hungry. He wouldn't want it all to go to waste.

Wants you to have your heating bottle on your belly, especially if they're strong. Has a towel underneath you to prevent a mess.

Steven read about orgasms soothing your cramps, so it should be a win-win. You should expect to be immobilized for atleast some time. He wants to help you after all.

Marc

He kind of has your cycle memorized, and if he catches the familiar scent of you ovulating, he gets excited!!

The moment you get them, he prepares the towel and heating bottle for you. Then before you could ask what he's doing, he already has you spread out for him, his arms slung over your thighs, gently preventing escape.

He is used to get bloody, so you bleeding isn't doing anything to him. Blood is blood to him.

Marc pretty much does this almost everyday to you. The more orgasms you get, the less pain you have. You should thank him.

He's similar to Steven, eating you out until you're begging him to stop. But even then, squeezes another one out of you with his cock.

If he is really feral he wouldn't bother with any preparation, getting you into the bathroom so he can feast undisturbed. Way easier to clean up too.

After he's done with you, your muscles definitely need a break.

---------------------

Tags:

@nekoyin @iolaussharpe-24 @steven-grants-world @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @buckyssugarchick

@krakenkitty @mochiitoby @alexxavicry @silvernight-m

Wanna get tagged?

[leclsrc]

wait and see ✴︎ cl16

genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst barely, other drivers appear

word count: 2.5k

The grid recounts the evolution, nature, and many ups and downs of your and Charles' vague relationship.

auds here... req'd, this was p fun to write i hope u guys like it! :) short bec if it was any longer it wouldnt have been as nice to read i think? anyway... i love u guys. title from this.

Lando takes a seat. “Is this the thingy for…? Yeah? Okay. What am I supposed to do again?”

“Just describe the two of them.”

“Easy. She was always pissing him off.” He rubs his chin, lost in thought. “But… in a good way?”

—

“I told you a hundred times I didn’t want this to be the soundbite you published.” Charles chases after you, his footsteps quickening like a lost puppy as you wrestle your way into the media pen. “A hundred times, and you said okay, and you still published it. Che succede?”

You turn, crossing your arms over your torso. “Look. I said yes, but when I looked it over, nothing else you said was really worth it. It was all just repetitions of the same PR bullshit that makes you look good on camera.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, exhaling with frustration, watching his biting comment on Iñaki rack up hundreds of thousands of views. “This was not a good idea!” He repeats, the same sentiment he’s been telling you in the half-hour he’s known of this video’s publicity.

“But it happened.” You adjust your mic and gesture to Lando, who’s awkwardly waiting for the cameras to roll so you can start the post-FP2 interview and he can talk about his shit car. “I’m busy, so deal with it. Your fans will appreciate you not riding Ferrari’s dick all the time.”

Charles opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it, shoving his way back outside and into the motorhome so he can cooperate in damage control. He doesn’t admit it—to you, to Carlos, to anyone—but the PR that comes of it is more good than it is bad in the end. He doesn’t admit it because it means admitting you’re right, and God if that’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

—

“They were always butting heads,” George says, laughing as he soaks in the memories of it. “Always fighting over something. Anything. Whatever there was that could be disagreed on—they’d be disagreeing.”

—

It started harmlessly enough. Seb walked in with two swatches of color—a blue and a purple—and addressed the room with a light tone, asking what color would best suit the tablecloths at his wedding. And then, as it always did with you and Charles, chaos ensued.

“Blue suits green better.” You wave the blue in his face. “You’re busy thinking of red all the time so you don’t understand color theory.”

“It’s not about coordination! It’s about creating a highlight!” He gestures with his hands, aggressively gesticulating to try and get his point across. “Highlight!”

“Oh, bullshit! Blue!”

“Purple!”

“Are you crazy?!”

Across the room, Seb and George watch in mild horror at the two figures caught in a needlessly intense argument over colors at a wedding that isn’t even theirs.

An AlphaTauri engineer comes in to refill his coffee for the third time, finds the two of you still fighting and is genuinely stupefied. He turns to the two onlookers, asks, “Bridezilla, huh? Happened to me once, too. I swear the grooms always try to weasel their way in to seem more involved but their choices never make sense.”

“Oh, no. They, uh, they’re not together.” George clarifies quickly.

“They’re not?!” The engineer and Seb ask at the same time.

They all watch the argument, bemused, but secretly they all wonder just how correct George is.

—

“We have a saying in Spanish. Del amor al odio hay un paso. Neither of them will understand it—it’s in Spanish, obviously—but I think that applies to them. One minute you think they hate each other, and the next…” Carlos lets himself taper into silence, smiling softly.

—

Being around Charles feels like karmic retribution, a constant eternal push and pull. But it makes the both of you better, even if neither of you admit it in the end. You can’t really grasp why, or how it started—it might take ages if you do so much as try—but you’re content with letting things happen the way they do.

Or maybe you’re not. “You ruined my fucking broadcast, dickhead!”

You toss your earpiece at his chest, body welling up with annoyance. Your segment was being casted live until Charles insisted he take up your airtime to do whatever-the-fuck, you honestly don’t care. And yeah, sure, he’s way more relevant, but the less airtime you get, the less easily you get the exposure you need.

“It happened one time.” He sounds amused, and it patronizes you, sets you on fire. He clutches your earpiece to his chest and hands it back to you.

“Fuck you.” You tug it toward yourself, and suddenly you’re closer, noses almost touching. You step back, but it’s not enough. “You have no idea how much that mattered to me.”

His eyes flit toward your lips, your bodies melting together. “If it really did…” he says, inhaling, “you would’ve just ignored me.” And damn, he’s right.

Charles does not like you. He just knows you well. But then one might argue—isn’t that the same thing?

—

“They have trouble not calling the shots, is the thing,” Lewis offers. “So put them in a team, in a room together, and boom.”

—

“…We didn’t agree on this script.” You underline the problematic lines and toss it onto Charles’ lap from where you stand in front of the sofa. “You want your fans to hate you?”

“The questions were clumsy. I asked you to reword them, but you didn’t.”

“You didn’t ask, to be clear. You demanded.” You click your tongue.

Lewis is in the middle of posting on Roscoe’s Instagram account and manually making typos, but he looks up, interest piqued by the increasingly heated conversation.

“I asked,” Charles insists stubbornly. “Plus, this is a Ferrari segment. You get hired to write on Ferrari, you follow Ferrari.” He points to the yellow logo on his shirt. Ferrari, he mouths. Lewis stifles a chuckle at the sarcastic exchange.

“Jesus.” You reread the script. “Fine. I’ll reword this and this.”

“And that.” He points, tapping the paper.

“Only if you edit this and this. Oh, God, and this.”

“Fine. Wait, that?”

“Are you serious? It’s the corniest statement ever. Edit that or I edit nothing.”

“Okay, bossy.”

Lewis exits Instagram in favor of texting Seb to ask if you two are dating. The response he receives is equally unhelpful: Nobody knows mate.

—

“You know, for all the disagreeing they did, they actually agreed on so much of the same stuff. If they stopped fighting for two seconds they would agree on most things.” Alex muses. “But they never did, so. Or maybe a few times.”

—

Media is a tricky thing. It’s either on your side, or it isn’t.

And this weekend, Charles has drawn the short straw, subjected to bouts of backhanded journalists and tweets for his strategy during quali. You know this especially well—you’re media, for Christ’s sake—and you’ve seen your colleagues hound Charles for how he chose to tackle the session.

Alex is in the middle of a FaceTime call with Lily when he hears it. “Wait—I think they’re talking,” he says to his girlfriend when he hears you approach him, carefully maneuvering himself into optimal eavesdropping position.

“Is this the right thing to do?” Lily’s voice comes through like static.

“I know it’s wrong,” Alex confesses. “But—”

“No, I meant I can’t hear properly. Move the phone closer, you dick.”

So he does, and the two of them listen intently to your talk. You go first, a few shuffling footsteps and an adjustment of your media pass, then. “Will’s been all over you today.”

“Yeah,” comes Charles’ voice, tired if anything. “I, uh… I just hope I can understand where I went wrong and, uh. Well, uh.”

“No, I…” There’s heavy silence. “I think you did the right thing. You didn’t get pole, but it was a good strategy. Better than what was being proposed, anyway. I think that would’ve landed you at the back of the grid, to be honest.”

You both laugh. “Thanks,” he croaks.

“You did great. Don’t, um… don’t let them tell you otherwise. I’m proud of you.”

Alex never tells anybody what he heard. But it inspires many long-winded conversations with Lily about the nature of your relationship. Each time, though, they never arrive to a solid answer.

—

“Hey, listen. I always knew something was there with those two. They had the kind of dynamic you only find once in, like, a million instances.” Daniel says firmly. “But I also kept thinking… poor Charlotte.”

—

You’re half-sure Pierre was the one who bought you all shots. Or a quarter-sure. Okay, you’re not sure at all. Your mind’s cloudy, your inhibitions lowered, tongue loose and laugh contagious. Around the table everyone is laughing, some others have gotten up to dance, but you, Daniel, Lewis, and Charles are all conversing about work, albeit while drunk.

“Is… tequila… plant-based?” Lewis grimaces as he throws another shot back and you all laugh mindlessly.

“Danny,” you say, tapping his shoulder. “Any plans once you’re out of the paddock next season?”

“Ah,” he hums. “Self-discovery and a shit ton of shrooms.”

You all cheers to the epiphany, shots once again entering your system. “And a party again tomorrow!” Daniel adds half-jokingly, much to your delight. Charles, right beside you, throws an arm over your shoulder as he laughs. You’re unfazed.

Daniel’s gaze lingers on his arm a little too long, especially because your own hand reaches upward to wrap around his wrist, to make sure he doesn’t pull away. But you’re both drunk, he reasons. And plus, you can’t usually stand each other’s guts.

“I’ll pass, mate, if it happens,” Charles says, his tone clearly inebriated.

“You’re no fun,” you say lightly, laughing and turning to him. Your eyes are on the other’s, dark, lips almost touching as if you’ve forgotten Daniel and Lewis are even around (though the latter is as good as dead, honestly.)

“Invite Charlotte instead,” Daniel says with a smile, to try and test your reactions. “How long, now? Three months?”

You clear your throat, looking away with a faux smile.

“Oh. We’re not doing so well, to be honest.” Charles smiles, tight-lipped. He hopes Daniel doesn’t ask why. He can’t think of a lie quickly enough to cover how Charlotte told him I love you, Charles, but this is over. I hope you end up with her someday.

—

Seb takes some time to think about it. “Those two always fought. Everyone said that, didn’t they? All the time, disagreeing.” He hums. “I could tell very early, though, that they were also the only two who could truly understand the other. Figuratively, obviously—but as a result, also literally.”

“Elaborate?”

“When you understand someone that well, inside and out, you end up understanding everything they say.” Seb smiles. “That was them, I think.”

—

“It’s impossible to transcribe your interviews,” Will says to Charles. It’s that hour on the paddock where everyone’s waiting for the pre-race bustle to start, so small talk is what’s keeping them busy.

You’re reviewing a few clips from practice on your phone and Seb is chipping into the conversation, which has moved from Mick’s future to F1 into Sky Sports into this.

“What do you mean?” Charles asks.

“You’re always sliding in and out of your three languages!” The Englishman laughs. “I have to consult a native speaker of both Italian and French each time. And you’re always going I, I, I, or we, we, we… but hey, the fans dig it, innit?”

“I think I sound perfectly understandable.” Charles smiles. You’re still busy, unfocused on the conversation at present.

“Like, okay. Look at this.” Will retrieves his phone, opens his voice memos app, and plays one of the audio recordings there. It’s a scratchy one of Charles describing his quali session, and sure enough, even if he’s speaking straight English, the adrenaline and exhaustion have him sounding totally indecipherable.

We—we had gasjdhfhs and I, I, I… I think we need to rejshdhs and thijsjsh about the hsfhdh, yeah? And, and, uh, we ajhshajs. And

Will closes it. “Sebastian, can you tell me that said?”

He shrugs, amused. “Sorry, Charles. I genuinely can’t.”

“See?!” Will makes a voila motion. “Nobody understands this.”

“He said we had good traction and I think we need to recalibrate and think about the boxing strategy, yeah? And we need that mindset.” You’re still going over your phone, busy and not 100% invested. “You two just aren’t listening.”

Charles doesn’t take his eyes off you, or the smile off his face, the whole hour.

—

Pierre comes last, clearing his throat. He’s ready. He knows exactly what to say, so he says it. “Those two are fucking soulmates.”

—

It’s three-thirty when somebody knocks on your hotel room.

But your body still feels like it’s five in the evening, your brain’s stuck at two in the afternoon, and your sleep schedule thinks it’s nine in the morning, so you’re not asleep but instead rewriting notes from the weekend prior.

You’re horribly disoriented when you grab your pepper spray and unlatch the door, and even more disoriented when you see Charles on the other side of it.

“Am I crazy?” He asks, breathless, like he’s been waiting for you all his life. Maybe he has.

“You’re at my hotel room at three a.m., so… a bit.” You rub sleepiness and jetlag out of your eyes. “Charles, what’s going on?”

“I love you.” There it is. “It sounds so stupid. But I love you. And it’s almost—I can’t bear it. I woke up this morning? You, on my mind. Lights go off after a race? You. I go to sleep? You. It’s always you. And I know, I know it’s—I know, with Charlotte, and—but it’s true. I, I, I—I think about you every minute. And usually this happens accidentally. Nous sommes tous des idiots quand il s’agit d’amour... moi y compris.

“But this was… I knew I was falling in love and I let it happen. And so I thought, why keep waiting? Why let it drag on and on and fight over and over when I can just come and tell you how much I—and maybe, hopefully, see if you feel the same?”

He pants, tired from his clearly rambled and unplanned confession.

“I love you, too,” you say, struck. Oh God.

“Can I kiss you, then?”

“It’s may,” you breathe. “May I kiss you.”

“You may,” he whispers.

“Right now?”

“Anytime.”

“So now.”

“It’s now or next Tuesday,” he jokes.

“Now is… the best. Now would do.”

“Now would do.” So you cross the threshold and let him scoop you into his arms so he can well and truly kiss you.

—

“Is that all?” The interviewer asks Pierre. “Just… those words? We need a bit more for the article on this event.”

“Oh, yeah.” He gets up, straightens his tie. “Don’t worry. You’ll hear the rest during my best man speech.”

Del amor al odio hay un paso – From love to hate, there is one step.

Nous sommes tous des idiots quand il s'agit d'amour... moi y compris – We are all fools in love... me included.

[straystarr]

From the Start; lmh

in which you end up getting partnered with the bad boy but it turns into something meaningful. (Somewhat strangers, to friends)

a little soft, a little boring, but comforting (at least I hope)

Blank minds were accompanied by bored expressions and still your professor ignored the dull atmosphere as her words drowned before reaching your ears. Philosophy of sex and love — while immersive in its contents and literature, it was oddly scheduled in the evening of the day. Naturally, you were drained, ready to crawl into bed and sleep the day away. Showing no interest was not your intention, in contrast, this had to be your favourite class of your crammed university schedule. Your days were filled with due dates after due dates. Exam after exam. One long lecture to another. Life was repetitive at the moment. And one can only enjoy the repetition  for so long.

You couldn’t help but allow your pen to draw minimal doodles onto the loose leaf sitting in front of you, anything to keep you sane. It was obvious you weren’t the only numb soul as the room seemed to be suffocating due to cumulative body heat and exaggerated exhaustion.

You were pulled away from your pointless observations, the door to the class swinging open, disrupting the scattered peace in the room as heads lifted at the sudden noise. Your eyes caught a glimpse of his dark clothed figure before you swiftly turned your head back towards your notebook, already anticipating the reactions around you. 

If it were any other late student, every person in the room would have nonchalantly returned to their business, carefree of the lives outside of their own. Instead, waves of whispers brewed as he confidently made his way towards his designated seat, which happened to be right beside your own.

He gave no attention to the soft chaos his presence ignited, but his plain eyes glared at anyone who daringly gazed for more than expected.

Something about Lee Minho always had people on the edge of their seats. Whether it be the countless rumours surrounding his reputation or the way he detached himself from any social setting. 

You never understood it really, the way people obsessed over him. He was popular, for all the wrong reasons. It was either romanticising his ‘cold’ personality or scowling at his existence. How he became known as the bad boy will always remain ridiculous to you. 

Some claim he spends his nights at clubs, some say his personality speaks for itself, others believe only people involved in illicit activity would stain their skin so “excessively”, thrown off by the tattoos visible when his arms were out in the open. Stereotype after stereotype was all it was. You found most of these reasons to be baseless, filled with the flaws of people's own beliefs and values. 

Sure, he wasn’t the friendliest person, but that doesn’t justify the shit he received on a daily basis. Even if what people said was true, what did it have to do with them? He was just living his life. And still, people managed to bury him six feet under. 

He never seemed bothered by the distaste he received, rather amused, a smirk flourishing on his lips with every new story created in his name. Even when all eyes were on him or when assumptions about his life were brought about in conversations, he always stuck to himself, never talking to anyone, a facade of oblivion hanging above his head. 

The only people you’ve ever seen welcomed into his own little world were his group of friends, specifically, Han Jisung and Bang Chan. But even then, he remained conserved, only giving small reactions in contrast to their big personalities. You always wondered how they got along. Jisung was known to be a social butterfly on campus, always waving, always laughing, a person one can’t help but be drawn to. One time, he mistook you for someone else and gave you a back hug, spending the next five minutes on his knees profusely apologizing for touching you. Chan was more laid back, but he enjoyed the company of other people. He always lightened the mood with his cheerful and calm persona.

Their relationship took the concept ‘opposites attract’ and played it into reality. It was comforting knowing such a friendship existed in a complex world. 

“Can I borrow a pen?” The request came from your right, somewhat hidden in your professor's speech about Vrangalova’s association of love and commitment to sex. You met eyes with him, face stoic and reserved, expectant of your generosity. It wasn’t the first time he had asked you for a pen, and it wouldn’t be the last time you held one towards him. “Thanks.” He muttered, eyes already gone from your sight. You smiled in response, even if he couldn’t see it. It was moments like this that solidified your liking towards him. 

In a way, you cared for Minho, watching from the sidelines, stealing little glances whenever he was in the room or catching yourself frowning every time his name was carelessly thrown around. It’s not that you had a crush on him, or that you pitied him, but it’s the same way you get concerned when you see a friend stumble. You flinch as you imagine their potential pain. You hope they're ok. And then you move on with your life. It is possible, and it does happen — caring for someone you know nothing about. The same way you can hate someone you know nothing about. 

You sucked in your bottom lip as your pen tapped a rhythm onto the table. His body became clearer in your peripheral, bringing the rhythm to a pause. His thigh slightly brushed against yours, sinking into the chair with his body shifting into a comfortable position. And like clockwork, the wave of gossip diminished as time passed by, and your eyes only continued to fall, forcing you to use all your energy to keep them open. 

“I’ll be ending the lecture early. But I am assigning a group paper since it seems as though you all would not be able to complete one on your own, judging from the lack of enthusiasm. To make things simple, your partner will be whoever is sitting to your right. All you need to do is research……” Her voice echoed into the air as you hesitantly moved your head to the right. Your eyebrows trailed up in surprise due to the set of eyes already directed at you. 

Minho raised his hand to his cheek, resting against his fingers as he cocked his head to the side. “Y/n, right?” An unconscious smile bloomed upon hearing your name, to which he straightened his posture. Your smile threw him off. He could always guess a person's intentions by their smile. It’s either genuine, or it’s not.  And he almost always received the latter. But with you, that wasn’t the case. He found himself fascinated at how quickly the smile came and left. It was an authentic reaction.  

It was new to him. And he simply didn’t know how to react.

“You know my name?” 

“I’ve been stealing your pens for a whole semester. How can I not?”

He was talking more than he was used to. What should have been a yes or no answer turned into an invitation to continue the conversation. And he again, didn’t know why. The side of your lips dropped at the sudden coldness glazing over his face but you thought nothing of it as you nodded and began to pack your things. “We should start the project tomorrow, are you available?” Standing, you twisted your head to look at him once again to which he just nodded before pushing himself off from his seat. 

Your fingers curled under your notebook, instinctively tightening your hold to no avail as he seized it from your hands. A sound of confusion choked from the back of your throat, prompting the questioning look you sent him as he began to write something down. Bringing his head up, he processed your stare, an unexpected wave of caution flooding his system as he placed the notebook back in your hands.

“My address.” The awkwardness he displayed was fresh compared to the certainty he previously held in his actions. “Unless you’d like to work on campus, I just assumed you wouldn’t since everyone is camping out here with the semester coming to an end—” Your shoulders vibrated from the amused giggle in your throat.

He was rambling, and you quite enjoyed it.

His nostrils flared upon hearing your stifled tune. It was odd, he found himself trying his best to ignore the urge to smile along with you. It was barely a success as he patiently waited for you to speak, a hand coming to rub his warm ear. “Maybe we can head to your place together after class tomorrow?” You advised, bag already over your shoulder and coat hanging from your arm, you were eager to leave. But the quick interaction with the stranger who always had your attention lined your thoughts amidst the fatigue. “Yeah— yeah, that works.” He said with a curt nod. Twisting in place, your hand flew in the air, fingers waving ever so slightly.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

His lips fell apart, watching as you marched your way out of the room. He couldn’t read your mind, but he so badly wanted to. Because the many questions swarming in his head just about drove him crazy. You were weird. At least in the sense that he didn’t mind your presence. He didn’t mind how easy going you were or how you made him conscious of himself. He didn’t mind that you laughed at him or how he so easily talked to you. You intrigued him. You had ever since you were paired to sit together. And it scared him. He always wanted to talk to you — really talk to you, none of this pen borrowing bullshit he settled for even when his pencil case lay untouched in his bag. 

And now that he has, your voice echoed in his head like a soft melody, to which he paused the tune, frightened to dance along to the beat. 

“Are you feeling any better?” 

“I think so.” He managed to moan out. 

You turned your head away from the screen of your computer, waist twisting in place as you caught ahold of his weary eyes, soon widening at the sudden eye contact. It was a few hours after class had ended. You weren’t really keeping track. But you were constantly checking up on the boy who lay on the couch you leaned on.

“You sound like shit. And you still look like shit.” Your observation fell on deaf ears, your eyes blurred against the rays of the white screen staring back at you. “I’m fine.” He sniffled, buried in the blankets you had wrapped around him with care.

And to think a few hours ago, you were frustrated with him, having travelled from University to an unknown area with the only hope that the address messily written in your notebook would lead you to Minho. The frustration grew with each second you loitered in the apartment's hallway. You didn’t want to assume anything when Minho never showed up for class. So you took it upon yourself to find out what was going on.

And there you stood, a deep sigh collapsing along with your eyes as your knuckles came in contact with the door one last time. Pulling your hand away, you clicked your tongue against the top of your mouth, analyzing the options you had left. God seemed to take pity on you as the door swung open, sending you staggering backwards, hand over your chest with your eyes now wide open. 

Although his face was barely visible with the hood that covered his head, his feline eyes peeked through the fringes of his hair naturally covering his forehead. The scowl on Minho's face melted upon recognizing your startled figure. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, his body fell onto the doorframe. He was very much surprised with your visit, but his blank stare intimidated you into thinking your efforts may have gone to waste. 

Guilt crawled into his skin, unsure whether to explain himself or let you assume what you wanted. He would usually give less than a fuck, but with you — with you, he didn’t know what to do. A sigh of relief was given as you felt somewhat reassured by Minho’s presence. 

Readjusting the bag hanging over your shoulder, you paused as you felt the reassurance being replaced with confusion. You were ready to bombard him with the questions clouding your mind. Why wasn’t he at school? Did he expect you to finish everything yourself? Did he really not give a shit? Did he not like you? 

But the wandering questions were easily dismissed upon noticing the way Minho couldn’t seem to hold himself up, continuously leaning against the door frame. It wasn’t until frail sniffles came from the boy in front of you, his head tossed to the side as if to silence himself. It was then you noticed how his cheeks were painted in a harsh shade of pink, the way he tried to softly clear his throat, the shadows under his eyes. 

“I couldn’t go to school today and I didn’t know how to contact you—”

“You look like shit.”

The statement shot through his already weak state, but he wasn’t offended. Instead, a loose chuckle caressed his tongue as you smiled in return. You began to rock on your feet, unaware of what to do or say. Minho observed your actions, carefully stepping aside as his hand pointed towards the inside of his home. He didn’t approve of what he was doing, but he didn’t necessarily oppose it either. He was just as lost as you were.

Your body failed to move, eyes blinking while you began to comprehend his gestures. “What? You didn’t come here just to check up on me.” Dropping his hand to the side of his body, Minho raised an eyebrow, eyes glazing over the words that barely made their way out of your mouth.  “I think you should use this time to try to get better, I’ll just finish the project—“ “I can’t let you complete it by yourself.”

Your eyes fixated on the back of his head as he trudged into his home, leaving you to gawk at his figure, hesitation confronting you as you consciously entered through the door frame that separated you from the outside world. Minho watched as you observed the surroundings. It was nothing like you’d imagine, but also seemed to fit him very well.

The living room consisted of a brown leather couch and a circular glass table. Nothing seemed out of place, every decoration he had with a purpose. “Why hello there.” You crouched down, hands fluffing the cat that arrived at your feet. You directed your gaze to Minho. “I didn’t take you for a cat dad.” Minho picked up the cat at your feet before placing him on a cat tree tucked away in the corner of the room that you failed to notice. “I have three.” He managed to say. 

Nodding in awe, you set your bag down onto the wooden floor in front of the table, your body sinking as your jeans hit the cold ground. Burrowing his eyebrows, Minho gazed at you with curious eyes. “You can sit on the couch?” You lifted your head as you set your laptop on the table, a smile growing on your face while your hands strung your hair into a loose bun.  “I prefer the floor.” Your causality ignited a comfortable atmosphere to which he found himself drawn to. His feet carried him towards the couch behind you as he slumped onto it, his sick body hindering him from acting any further. The simple fact that you spit out about yourself traced through his mind, unknowingly settling in the depths of his memory. 

“You can rest for now, I’ll let you know when I need your help.” Your focus was directed towards the screen of your laptop, completely oblivious to the boy whose lips were ever so slightly curved into a smirk. “That’s not how it’s supposed to work.” A string of coughs followed his response, much to his dismay. “Yeah well, we have underlying circumstances so just listen and I don’t know, heal?” There it was again. That light tune that so easily infiltrated his thoughts. The sarcasm laced in your voice only humoured the smirk on his face, somehow guiding it to curve into a light smile as he continued to stare at the back of your head. 

How odd it was for him — for him to do as he pleased, not having to shelter himself into the colourless character he lived. How odd it was for him to lie there on a random Friday, a mere stranger on his living room floor as he tried to get some sleep. Well, at least he knew your name. He liked your name. And he was so at ease with the person linked to the name. “Why did you want to work here?” Your question halted his thoughts. “I don’t like public places.” He said with eyes closed. You absently nodded, fingers typing away. “Why don’t you like public places?” He remained quiet for longer than anticipated. “I don’t really like people.”

Silence corrupted the air, bringing your chest to slowly rise in contrast to its previous pattern. 

Your eyes soon landed on his face, as your head twisted in place, focus no longer directed towards the gleaming screen of your computer. It occurred to you that the line of questioning was heavy, too heavy and you were in no position to ask him such heavy questions. Especially with his weak state. Minho opened his eyes, his gaze trailed on the ceiling, avoiding your hard stare as the two of you shared the understanding that explanation was to follow. Although you were aware of the reason.

“I'm sorry.”

The apology was louder than a whisper but not quite full in tone. You inhaled, slowly turning back around as the hot air left your nose. The tapping of your fingers began again, spelling out a sentence that lacked your attention. “Why do you prefer the floor?” Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, nonchalantly resuming as your shoulders moved up and down in oblivion. “I’m not sure. I just find it more comfortable.” He hummed in acknowledgement, making an effort to rise from his place but immediately groaning while trying. 

“Now what happened in the span of a day that you went from being all healthy to barely being able to move?” You asked, still typing away on your computer. Minho sighed, embarrassed and hesitant to explain the ridiculous events that occurred the previous night. But with the way your expectant eyes gleamed in the dark room, his lips betrayed him. “Jisung made me dance in the rain last night because you apparently only live once.” His voice was barely a whisper towards the end but that only solidified the giggle shaking your body. Minho smiled, conscious of the highs and lows of your laugh and somehow harmonizing with the one coming from his sore throat.

You listened to Minho’s laugh, fully aware that this was the first time you had heard it. It was pretty and contagious. And you couldn’t help but think about how nice it would be to hear it more often. “So you’re telling me, you’ve lived every girl's dream.” Your cheeks were full with pressure from the grin on your face. Minho’s smile melted into a smirk. “Jealous much?” You nodded before standing up. “Very much so.” 

Minho found himself searching for you as you made your way out of his sight. But soon enough, you returned, a bowl in one hand while you kneeled beside him. You hesitated before laying your hand flat against his forehead, falling to his cheek. “I think you have a fever.” Minho weakly hummed, unsure what to say. So he continued to watch you dip a towel into the bowl, lifting his bangs up before placing it on his forehead. The cool material felt nice against his hot body, prompting him to close his eyes.

He felt vulnerable. He was vulnerable. Never would he allow someone so physically close to him unless it was his friends. But here you were, hand to his cheek with no ounce of refusal in his gut. You were as close as anyone could get with him, and it only took you a few hours to do so. Perhaps that’s why he continued to speak, susceptible to you in ways he couldn’t quite understand. “People let you down.” His voice was frail, but you caught his words. “It's like they’ve pieced my life together without even asking me about the details.” He didn’t need to ask whether you understood what he was referring to, because with the way your face slightly fell, he knew you weren’t immune to the rumours. 

“People suck.” You left the towel on his forehead, turning away as you settled back down in front of your computer. “We make assumptions in order to help us understand the world. Even if our assumptions are ill-mannered. What makes sense to us, protects us.” You paused, now looking at him. “I’m sorry you’re experiencing the consequences of other people’s actions.” You spoke quietly, your bottom lip slightly pushed forward.

Minho said nothing, offered no expression of regard. Instead, he cleared his throat, letting his eyes fall shut. You bit your bottom lip, unsure how to interpret his nonchalance and choosing to continue whatever you were typing. “I’d like for you to hear about them.” Your fingers lay still against your keyboard. “The details.” The breath you were holding blew past your lips, subtly. “Well, you can tell me all about them while I finish up this paper of ours.” You stated, a smile threatening to break out on your face, a low murmur of acknowledgement coming from behind you. 

“How many pages have you done?” 

“Two.” 

“How many do we need done?”

 “Twelve.” 

Minho’s eyes shot open. “I— what have you been typing this whole time, I thought you had this shit locked and loaded.” You swiftly faced him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m sorry for being invested in our conversation.” Your tone was entirely satire and he could only groan in disbelief. You both stared at each other, your face relaxing while his lit up, smiles breaking out as laughter filled the air.

“Should we ask for an extension?” Miho forced himself up, now sitting against the couch. “I emailed her the minute I opened my computer.” You shrugged, reaching for the towel that was now lopsided on his forehead. Minho could only stare at you with wide eyes. “Why’d you stay?” You tilted your head in confusion, as if it were obvious why you had been here for the past hour or so. “I wasn't going to leave you here to rot.” His lips parted slightly. 

He had your voice paused in his mind, replaying it to familiarize himself with your tone. He liked you. This he knew. And was more than willing to accept. It was new for him to welcome someone so eagerly into his small world, but with the way you dipped the towel into the bowl of water and casually placed it back onto his forehead, he knew a new friend would do no harm and probably more good than he deserved. His soul welcomed your presence. Something he’d never come to regret.

“I’ll invite you next time.” “Next time?” You continued to pat the towel down, retracting your hand and making eye contact. Minho nodded. “When Jisung asks me to dance in the rain with him.” You blinked slowly. You didn’t think much of Minho when you first sat beside him in class, other than his obvious physical attraction, you knew nothing but his fabricated reputation. And yet, here you sat in his living room, worried and cautious over him while simultaneously laughing and enjoying his company.

You were unaware that he would soon become someone you’d think the world of, someone who’d make you laugh a little harder and feed your soul. Until then, he remained the boy who borrowed your pens, had a pretty laugh, and was sick from dancing in the rain.

“I’d like that.”

AN: A gentle or not so gentle reminder that this is written fanfiction. xoxo

𝙎𝙏RAy𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍r★