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roseykat · 11 months

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TITLE: Venom Biter

PAIRING: Minho x reader

SUMMARY: The end of a relationship between you and Minho turns as sour as it could ever get. A lovers to enemies trope.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

TAGS: breakups, hate sex, post-breakup sex, unprotected sex, swearing, angst, manhandling, push and shove, spitting, choking, oral sex (f!reader receiving), angst, strong hints of degradation, use of degrading names such as 'slut' and 'whore'.

A/N: this was originally meant to be for one of the days I had planned for Kinktober but I was up to my neck in work and I didn't want to post something sort of half-assed so I had to hone down on most of the work for this piece.

MASTERLIST

“Broke up?” Chan’s eyes refuse to blink. “You two broke up!?”

His confused filled stare shoots for the direction of his best friend, Minho, who quietly sits opposite him across the table. He looks slightly withdrawn or…off colour. It can’t have been the gruelling two hour lecture they finished before heading out to lunch. If it were that, Minho would be complaining his head off saying how boring it was or cursing himself for not changing his minor earlier.

He’s just not his usual self. In other social settings, he could talk until the cows came home. But the entire hour that they’ve spent together at lunch, Chan has been doing all the conversing and only receiving vague one-word answers. It wasn’t until he asked what was up with Minho that his friend dished out the news that he and his girlfriend - you, had split up.

“Why?” Chan proceeds, still swimming in shock.

A sigh leaves Minho’s mouth. He truly doesn’t feel like revisiting this subject. When he even thinks about the answer, all he can recall is the firey shouting match you both had the day things crumbled.

“It’s messy,” he replies with a cloudy and ambiguous answer.

“If you talk about it, then it might help you make sense of it all.”

He groans this time, “I really, really don’t want to do that. What’s done is done.”

“Done?” Chan questions, still not letting up on an interrogation. “You were in a relationship with Y/N, for years. You guys talked about a whole future together. That’s not something you just sweep under the rug and forget about.”

If there’s one thing he almost did forget about, it’s that you were friends with him - not just Chan, but the seven others as well. After all, it was Minho who introduced you to those select people whom he calls his brothers. They would’ve found out eventually if Minho refrained from telling them who you were dating all those years ago.

Though naturally, you became very close with them.

“We’ve both chosen to do that so there’s nothing really much left to dispute.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrow, realising he left out a crucial question to the situation, “why did you guys break up in the first place?”

Minho feels like he’s going to run out of sighs, “she doesn’t love me anymore and I don’t love her anymore. That’s literally all there is to it.”

“You’re telling me you both fell out of love - at the same time,” Chan responds, still having a difficult time trying to comprehend his friend's situation.

“Pretty much,” Minho confirms with a nod.

Chan finds that extremely hard to believe from his friend - the very person who would enter a different realm whenever he was in a five centimetre radius of you. His eyes would glaze over as if he were possessed; always fixated on you, he’d smile more than he usually would, and was comfortable in the space around you.

There had to be another reason, surely.

But it had almost been three weeks since Chan dissected the news out of Minho, and it was almost like pulling teeth trying to dive for the details. Each attempt was as fruitless as the next and in the end, Chan just plucked the same answers.

Regardless, it seemed to play out better than expected. Minho saved himself from having to dish out explanations as to why you wouldn’t be around anymore. As a result, telling Chan was the best option and since the others didn’t know, Minho was okay with him telling them so that he didn’t have to.

In saying that, Minho left out very central details of what happened leading up to the breakup. He never mentioned the constant fighting, the lying, the false accusations, the shouting matches, up until the point where you were both swimming in the toxicity the pair of you created.

He also absconded from the fact to Chan that not only did you both separate, but you’ve also both come to view the other differently and not through a good lens. Minho shouted it in your face the other day to which you did the same; “I hate you.” And that was that.

But his friends probably didn’t need to know all of that.

Since that day, you’ve been in the process of trying to find an apartment for yourself which isn’t easy. You want to remain in town and not too far out so that you don’t have a long commute to work, and at the same time, you don't want to break the bank trying to find a nice place to rent in the city. All in all, it was tough, but you were ready to just leave.

Having packed up the majority of your stuff in boxes, all you had to do was wait for landlords to contact you back about possible vacant apartments. Thankfully Minho was lenient in allowing you to stay until you found a place.

You slept in the spare room, mainly keeping to yourself and the boxes of things surrounding the space. Occasionally you would have to lock yourself in there and throw on some noise-cancelling headphones whenever Minho brought around another woman to sleep with.

It was his house, you knew that and now that you have no ties to him and he’s letting you stay, it was never your place to question his actions.

Still, that could never lessen the hurt. It was painful which is why you hated him so much. You don’t know how a person could move on so quickly after so many years of being told how much you’re loved. It was like he never meant it. With that being said, when you eventually managed to find a decent place, you were free from Minho.

All of your items were ready to be moved out, taking a couple of days to actually get them to your new place. In the tiring process, you also had to factor in your work schedule which meant it would take longer to continue moving your stuff. Nonetheless, you had the majority of your boxes out of Minho's house with only a few remaining that you needed to swing by and pick up.

"Something wrong?" he wears a blank look on his face when you arrive on the doorstep to his house.

"Some of my stuff is still here, can I come in to grab it please?" You ask politely. He gives a silent answer in return by opening his door wider for you to walk in before he goes back to whatever it was he was doing.

You make your way into the spare room where the last of your things remain, but there is one odd detail you notice as you approach the items. What was supposed to be taped down lids to the boxes had in fact been opened; not in the state you had originally left it in.

"Minho," you call out, hoping he heard you.

Sure enough, he did. Minho walks into the spare room with a puzzled expression, wondering why he's been summoned, "what?"

“Why are these open?” You ask, lifting one box off of the other to check if the rest were open as well. “Half of my stuff isn’t in here.”

“You were coming back for those?” he replies with a question.

“What the hell else would I be coming back here for?”

“That's what I thought when you got here,” he says. “I thought it was for other things that you left behind, not ones in these boxes."

Your eyes never leave his face, tracking any sudden shifts in his muscles to try to figure out if he’s actually telling the truth or not. Even though you and Minho aren’t together, you're sure he wouldn't do anything malicious out of spite.

“So why is half my stuff missing?”

Minho pinches the bridge of his nose, “I thought you didn’t need any of it and that you left it here on purpose for me to deal with or throw out.”

“So what…” you trail off, expecting his answer. Minho hesitates for a few moments, sitting on the fence about whether he should actually tell you or not. But the least he can do right now is be honest.

“I told the…girl I bought around the other day that if she wanted anything-“

“No you fucking didn’t.”

“-she could have whatever was left in the boxes,” Minho finishes the rest of his sentence which would’ve been better for you not to hear.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you for leaving them behind in the first place!” Minho argues back, trying to defend himself here even though he knows he’s in the wrong. “You were gone for a few days Y/N, I thought you just left!”

“I never left them behind! I told you how long it was going to take my things to move!” You shout at him, tears brimming your eyes. “Now my stuff…”

The hurt genuinely sets in. Minho feels a sharp stab of pain in his chest when he sees how visibly upset you are. He knows that he’s been nothing short of a dickhead within the past month and now he’s gone and made things worse. It’s no point in him now to say that it was an honest mistake.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, truly.”

You shove him backwards into the dresser, knocking down some of the empty photo frames that were once homes for pictures of you and Minho, “you’re not sorry. You’re the fucking worst.”

Taken aback by your actions, Minho turns behind him to see the frames flat on the surface then looks back at you, “seriously Y/N, I would not have done that out of spite.”

“But it’s the fact that you still did it!” You raise your voice at him and shove him back again. “You didn’t bother calling or texting me about it when you should’ve!”

Minho predicts your next move and catches your arms to stop you from pushing him back impossibly further into the dresser. He shoves you back, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed which causes you to land on it behind you.

Before the surprise kicks in, Minho is kneeling on top of you, nearly straddling your lower half as he starts pinning your arms to the side of your head. Yet with a split second of momentum to break free, you struggle but manage to flip the tables and pin Minho on his back.

You mount his hips before your mouth comes down to kiss Minho so aggressively that it takes him a moment to react. With any other woman that he’s slept with so far, he would allow them to be on top. But because it’s you, and supposedly hates your guts, not to mention his untapped pride, it’s not going to happen. So Minho fights back, kissing and biting nearly every part of your upper body in the process until you’re under him.

He sucks large, deep, red hickies into the skin of your neck, in places where everyone would be able to see them. Minho would want people to know that you’re just a whore he uses. Especially for the next guy you sleep with who would go down on you and see the myriad of hickies that Minho would eventually put between your thighs when he rips your pants down.

“Wanna play this fucking game with me,” he rasps before yanking down your off.

Despite being a dickhead Minho will still eat you out for prep. But it’s not soft and teasing when he does go down on you. It’s tongue and finger fucking you until you’re dizzy from how hard you’re about to cum. It gives you the opportunity to pull and tug on his hair until his scalp starts burning, forcing you to be as vocal as you’ve ever been.

His fingers curl up into that sensitive spot while his tongue and mouth work simultaneously. He’s always been good at giving head, but unusually better now that he’s relatively angry. In the back of your mind, you supposed it helped having not slept with anyone for a month, making it easier to reach that peak of delicious, eye-rolling ecstasy.

“Fuck!” you scream out, voice projecting throughout the room as Minho sucks on your clit. “Fuck you…you’re gonna make me cum.”

Those words are something Minho could never get tired of hearing you say. Even in the headspace that he’s in now, he wants nothing more than to hear how good he’s making your body feel. However, he doesn’t need verbal confirmation from you to know that you’re about to cum. When your walls seize and clamp around his fingers, when you’re trembling around his head, Minho knows what that means.

The quick drag of his fingers is only light work for him, pumping at a pace that has you panting to try and keep up with it. As a result, it’s not long before Minho brings you to your sweet release; a toe-curling burst of euphoria that has you silently creaming around his fingers.

He has no patience for you to descend from your orgasm, sucking his fingers clean as he pulls away from your pussy. He gets to unbuckling his belt faster than he can even comprehend that this is still happening.

“H-Hurry,” you whine, trying to quell the hunger for Minho’s cock while you wait.

His eyes squeeze shut, hissing as he coats his length with your slick, “shut the fuck up.”

Despite being in a haze post-orgasm, you manage to sit up quickly to turn and push Minho down by his shoulders. You find yourself straddling his hips once more, reaching down and behind for his cock, aligning it with your hole. Minho allows you to work for it yourself, watching his cock vanish by the second as you sink down.

“Mmm…f-fuck,,” you whine, unable to come to grips with how much you miss him filling you out.

Taking a couple of slow strokes up and down allows you to realise that never in your wildest dreams could you ever imagine hate sex with Minho would be this…rough. Both of you pushing, shoving, and manhandling each other around, speaking to each other with such disregard for the other person's feelings – beyond the point of degradation.

“Come on,” Minho grunts, fingernails embedding themselves into your hips so that the indents remaining become as equally as vibrant as the hickies blooming on your neck.

You look down at him with disgust before your hand lowers to his throat, choking him out by the sides of his neck. That familiar feeling of restriction to Minho forces him to repress his sick enjoyment of it, even more so when you start really riding him.

“Fuck you,” you strain out, trying to assert some degree of control even though you’re battling with oversensitivity from your previous orgasm.

You slam your hips down repeatedly, building up a good pace and rhythm that’s enough for small moans to force their way out of your mouth. With a cock like Minho’s, it’s impossible to keep quiet no matter how much you try. However, as you work for your own orgasm, you don’t want to give him any satisfaction by making him think that he’s the one doing it; yet in reality, he is.

Nonetheless, you continue to use him just as much as he’s using you until the luxury of pleasure accelerates in the pit of your stomach. In saying that, it doesn’t take long for Minho to find that information out as you continue to ride him. The observation is clear-cut;

“Nobody’s fucked you since me haven’t they?” He asks you breathlessly, watching you roll your hips deliciously over his cock. “Know how I can tell? Because you keep fucking clenching around my dick.”

Your eyebrows furrow, struggling to find an answer for him because he is right and that’s not your fault, “s-so what? Want me to stop?”

“Didn’t say that, did I?” He argues back, too proud to say ‘no’. “Just…just keep moving.”

A firm hand of yours catches his taut jaw, and while his mouth is open, you lean down and spit right in it.

You curse right at him, “fuck you.”

His eyes lock with yours and for a moment, Minho is shocked, but not in a bad way. In that moment you despised him so much that he made you do something a normal person would find disgusting. Although it’s not long before a sick smirk spreads across his face, failing to pretend as if he didn’t just enjoy that, swallowing it back.

“Course you’d be into that you fucking whore,” he rasps, his body jolting every time your hips slam down.

“I’m not the whore who’s taking it,” you snipe back at him.

Your comment riles Minho, resulting in him nearly bucking you off his body before flipping you onto your stomach. He yanks both of your hands behind your back as something for him to latch onto when he pushes his cock back into you, and starts fucking hard and fast.

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck…” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut.

The new angle makes his dick slip in just that extra bit deeper, achieving a sensation which you miss all too much. With the amount of relentlessness that Minho puts behind his thrusts is nothing but a fast, brutal, and unforgiving type of fucking. He’s not holding back with you, no matter how much you hate him and he hates you, he will fuck you to tears.

“Such a fucking slut,” he drives forward nastily. “Needy, loud, slut.”

Your choked moans and whimpers are typical responses to hearing him call you that name again. In bed, if you weren’t his lover, you were his slut. Minho wouldn’t care less if the bed broke beneath him trying to fuck you like the whore you always wanted him to treat you as. But it was phenomenal.

Now, that’s only a distant memory clawing to come back.

“Make me cum…make me fucking cum,” you demand, acknowledging how close you are to the cliff of ecstasy.

Minho's breathing picks up from hearing the pure desperation in your voice, and so does his pace. His only release is not but a minute away, respecting that and also his motive to continue rearranging your guts.

Yet the possibility of keeping up any longer draws to a short term. Minho’s hold on your wrists behind your back becomes a solid death grip with no chance of escape until the wet heat from your pussy has his hips jumping out of rhythm.

His head tilts to the sky, the pleasure screaming at him from the base of his cock, “y-yes, fuck I'm cumming.”

At that very instant, Minho’s release rocks him over. His hands let go of yours in lieu of grabbing onto your ass instead. The pain and sting of his fingernails scraping deep into your flash forces strained whimpers and mewls from your throat, helping to push you over the verge of your second orgasm.

“Y-Yes, cumming, oh fuck-” you cry out with a shaky voice, stiffening while your hole seizes rhythmically around Minho’s length.

The pleasure is throat-gripping, making you forget the words to express how good you feel. Except, in the vapour of your orgasmic haze, you still don't want to accept the fact that it's Minho who makes you feel that way.

He pauses for a moment then thrusts hard back into you, making you keep the warm load that you were so undeservingly given, regardless if your walls are spasming and contracting it out. Then just as he was fast to try to get inside you, he's just as fast when he pulls out and flops beside you.

The air in the room becomes breathable again now that your heart rate isn't racing to the heavens, but picks back up quickly when you decide to hop off the bed and get dressed. You couldn't care less if you were sore and unbalanced. The thought of staying in the room with Minho any longer was suffocating.

“About your stuff,” he starts, filling the silent void with an exasperated voice. “I’ll try to get it back.”

You zip your jeans up, “don’t bother. I know you did give it away for whatever reason, but for what reason is something I’m betting you’ll take to the grave with you.”

Minho is up and now following suit by putting his clothes on. If now is the time to get one thing off of his chest, it’s now. Since the day you both separated, there has been no proper conversation. Both of you are too stubborn to admit wrongs and fix rights, but in your eyes, it's too far gone. There’s no going back to a good thing that was once more.

"I won't if we can just talk it out," he offers the opportunity to you.

“Minho, the nights that I had to listen to you fuck someone else in the next room right after we just broke up was a clear sign that we did not need to talk it out. All it made me do is realise that you didn't actually love me."

“That’s not true,” he shakes his head as you hear a twinge of desperation in his voice like he's pleading his case. "That's not true at all."

"It is though," you correct him. "You were free to sleep with whoever you wanted to because we had broken up at that point, but not a day after that did you wait."

Minho follows through with his explanation, “I was trying to get you out of my head. Spending too long just thinking about you makes me want to lose it. It didn't mean that I never loved you before."

“So you’re just going to continue being delusional? To fuck your way through trying to forget me?” You question, nearly laughing. "I honestly think you're just being pathetic."

He shrugs, “if it means that I don’t have to feel heartbreak, then yes.”

Part of you gets it. Minho’s found a vice and is using it as a tool to deal with his pain. But you’re in pain too, and you haven’t done anything to upset him ever since you split. Maybe it is as bad for him as he says it is. Maybe he doesn’t truly know how to navigate himself out of this like you’re attempting to.

It’s almost a rebuttal to your statement about whether he truly loved you or not; if he’s using other people to drive the thought of you out of his brain because it’s too painful to deal with, then maybe you were more than just a lover to him.

"I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I cannot stand being around you anymore because of how much it hurts to know that you're not actually with me. I'd rather try to forget your existence in order to not feel that type of heartbreak," Minho explains, his words coming from a place inside him that must've just opened up.

But he continues, "the second we split, I needed every last memory of you out of this house. But I know that this hurts you too and that this past month I’ve hurt you and that’s no justification to say that my reason is because you mean more than my entire life.”

There’s an ache in your chest that you’ve never felt before, a blend of all the emotional pain that could’ve been prevented had the two of you just talked. But that ache is fuelled by the fact that you can hear the waiver in Minho’s voice, and even though his back is still turned to you while he sits on the edge of the bed, you’re sure he’s crying.

A/N: Dare I say that I want to make a part 2 to this where Minho and reader try to rekindle, things are pretty tender but they sort of want to make it work...

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader

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fine-nephrit · 1 month

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🥏 Where to find good XF fanfics

👽 On Tumblr

@lilydalexf has an encyclopedic knowledge of fics and continues to be an invaluable resource. You'll find a boatload of themed fic lists, individual rec posts and helpful answers to anon asks.

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@msrlibrary a well-tagged library of MSR fics; each entry includes a short excerpt and a nicely chosen image from the show.

@201daysofxfiles a rewatch blog by fandom veteran @wendelah. Each episode in season 1-7 is paired with its own fic rec post.

@enigmaticxbee an aesthetically pleasing and neatly organized rewatch blog that is packed with great content, including excellent fic rec lists categorized by season, story type, trope, and more. Each episode guide sometimes features related fic recs.

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@pookie-mulder writes a monthly fic journal with good recs.

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XF Book Club: the best thing ever, an absolute gem that deserves to be preserved for posterity. During its run, 270 fics were recced and discussed in depth here. The community's intelligent and insightful comments on this blog are sometimes even more enjoyable to read than the fics themselves.

The Fic Filter (xf tag): well-curated selections with short blurbs.

Multifandom Het Recs (xf tag): a major rec site's xf section that offers nice "why this must be read" writeups. @het-reccers

Crack Van (xf tag): another major rec site with a big xf section, featuring endless recs and blurbs

Fancake (xf tag): another major rec community's xf section boasting an extensive thematic tagging system

👽 Personal Blogs

Emily Shore aka Naraht: meta essays, fanvid recs, fic recs—great stuff aplenty

Bad for the Fish aka Scarlet Baldy: fantastic fic list paired with highly enjoyable reviews and analyses of the fics she's read. @badforthefish

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👽 Individual Rec Lists with good writeup

Character Manifesto - Dana Scully: a character analysis and 10 Scully-centric fic recs, categorized by "best of .." selections. Amazing format and choices!

Character Manifesto - Fox Mulder: same format as above for Spooky

bachlava's awesome fic rec essays, covering classic fics and slash fics

ShipRecced blog's classic MSR fics and newer MSR fics recs

luminary's 16-fic rec post

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Anna Otto's favorite stories

Syntax6's rec list on her site, great rec list on Tumblr and FTF rec list @syntax6

👽 90s Old School Rec Sites

The Basement Office - Musea: a treasure trove of extensive fic lists with lovely written blurbs, recced by a group of talented writers from back in the day

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the Rookery - Favorite Authors: nice commentary on a list of classic fic writers

X-Files Fanfiction 101: an intro guide to fic categories and what to read for each

The Primal Screamers: a fun site run by a mailing list that hosts fic recs with blurbs, and a 'Coffee Talk' section full of delightful discussions of canon

Idealists Haven - Elemental Fanfic Archive: an archive with rec blurbs

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👽 Special Mention

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Where do you find your next read? What did I miss? Reblog and share your favorites!

#x files #txf #the x files #txf fanfic #x files fanfic #msr

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7s3ven · 8 months

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ATHENA'S GIRL. luke (pjo) - pt. 1

trailer > part 1 > part 2 > part 3

( masterlist )

IN WHICH... Luke's second quest isn't exactly a heroic one but he doesn't have the power to reject it. Who knew it would lead him to a prestigious high school where his hardest mission would be trying to befriend a snappy demigod.

"Have you forgotten to turn off your heart? This is not you. I see you changing from how I've designed you. Have you forgotten your purpose?"

Warnings : modern au but camp still exists, Luke doesn’t betray

A/N : I signed up with a blogging side job and they asked if I had any previous blog experience. I said no because I wasn’t about to admit that I run a one shot blog acc on Tumblr 😭

—

“What is wrong with you?!"

Heads turned to look at the H/C-haired girl who had shouted in a voice too loud to be inside a library. She was standing up, having shoved her chair back moments before. She clenched her hands into fists.

"Do you find joy in torturing me with your obnoxious presence? Is that it?!" She exclaimed at the brunette standing in front of her. She angrily grabbed her pile of books, messily shoving them into her bag. "Honestly!" She let out another groan as she loudly stormed past the doors.

"Well, that went smoothly, Luke." Chris, who had been watching the scene behind an upside down book, said.

The brunette boy with curled hair sighed, glaring at his friend, Chris. "I'm only trying to protect her. I don't know why she's so bitchy." Luke scowled. "I don't get why our quest was to protect some girl."

"Chiron said she doesn't have a satyr guide." Chris retorted, "That's why we're here."

Luke scoffed. "I can't even peacefully talk to her, let alone peacefully talk to her. She'll never come with us to camp." He swiftly threw his hands up in surrender.

"It's either that or the monsters. And if she doesn’t come with us, we fail.”

Luke stiffened at the mention of failing a quest. He knew all too well what that felt like. The jagged scar gruesomely painted across his face was proof of that.

“Just… befriend her.” Chris said as Luke stood up, ready to walk out of the library.

“Easier said than done. She hates me, Chris. And she hates you for being friends with me. So if neither of us can befriend her, how are you going to tell her about camp? It’s not like her dad will. He abandoned her for gods sake!”

Y/N, to put it simply, was an orphan. Her dad left her on the steps of a random house after her mother, whichever god she was, disappeared.

“Okay. Uh, what do we have in common with her then? And why does she hate you? I never understood that.” Chris questioned, desperate to think of ways to connect with Y/N before the monsters sensed her.

“I… made her get an F on her science project because I accidentally ruined it.” Luke sheepishly smiled.

“… You deserve all the insults from her then. But to answer my own question, we’re all demigods. That’s the most we have in common. I told you we should’ve taken Annabeth.” Chris uttered, gesturing to their surroundings.

“She’s a young kid." Luke retorted, "This is a high school. People will know something is wrong.”

“Or they’ll think she’s a child genius which, for the record, she is.”

Luke wasn’t sure how to feel about this quest. His first one had ended in absolute disaster so he was lucky to even be chosen for a second. But was a fire-breathing dragon worse than a high school girl who, if she needed to or even just felt like it, would stab you? Luke would take the dragon again because at least it didn’t spew out every insult known to man.

“I gotta get to this after school meeting.” Chris piped up, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “Some kids forced me to join. Find her and talk to her. Who knows, maybe you’ll get along. Eventually.”

Luke rolled his eyes as his friend jogged off to who knows where. Finding Y/N wouldn’t be hard. As creepy as it sounded, he had been watching Y/N for moments just like this.

He quietly whistled under his breath as he walked to the cafe across the road, immediately spotting Y/N in her usual seat beside the large window. She was, to no one’s surprise, reading a book.

Luke pushed open the door, the bell attached to it chiming softly. He made an instant beeline for Y/N. “Why so many books?” He blurted out, raising an eyebrow at the amount of novels strewn over the table.

Y/N lifted her head, frowning at the sight of him. “These are my cafe books.” She said, looking down at her book once more. Luke slid into the seat across from her.

“You need four cafe books? Why four?”

“Well, I need a novel and a biography book.”

“You’re reading Fyodor Dostoevsky as a novel? That’s your definition of light reading?” Luke picked up the book, almost laughing. “And some of it is in Russian. You know Russian?”

“Somewhat. I’m learning it so I can read Dostoevsky in the original.”

“And the Edgar Allen Poe?”

“Short stories. And Norman Mailer is a great essay writer so I wanted to check him out too.”

Luke huffed, “Jeez, writer. Reading Dostoevsky, learning Russian, reading all of these books. You’re crazy.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes as she stared at him with her heavy gaze. “Why do you call me that? Writer? Are you making fun of me?”

“Why would I need to do that? I call you writer because you want to be a journalist, right?” Luke leaned back in his seat, “I’ve read some of your essays, by the way. Don’t get mad at me. They were great. You really seemed to like the Russian revolution.”

“I’m more interested in the royal family, actually. Not so much in the Bolsheviks and all that politic stuff.” Y/N placed the book she was reading down, a truce sign in Luke’s eyes.

“Oh, she’s smart, pretty, and interested in the slaughter of a royal family. Are you perhaps training to become a serial killer? I hope I’m not your next target.” Luke teasingly grinned as a mischievous glint shone in his eyes.

“Castellan, I have a question.” Y/N sat up straighter, “How is it that you got into the school? Don’t get me wrong, you’re street smart but you aren’t… academically smart. Are your parents filthy rich?”

“My dad’s a deadbeat.”

“Did you cheat then? I won’t tell anyone. I’m only curious.”

“You wound me, writer. No, I didn’t cheat. Is it so hard to believe I passed the entrance exam?”

“Yes.” Y/N said without hesitation.

Luke stared at her with his lips pressed into a thin line. “Ouch. Now you’ve added salt to the wound.”

Luke had already acknowledged that he wasn’t gifted in the academic department. But there was more to life than writing articles and scribbling down overly complicated math equations.

“Wait a minute,” Luke sat up. How was it that Y/N could draft a perfectly constructed essay when she had dyslexia? “Don’t you have a reading problem? Dyslexia? Are you sure you didn’t cheat?” He meant the last bit as a joke but he instantly knew he made a mistake when Y/N’s eyes darkened.

“I have no need to.” She jeered, grabbing her cafe books. And just like that, their little moment of peace was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Never accuse me of cheating again. You got that, Castellan?” She harshly poked his shoulder as she walked past him.

“Hey, you forgot your Dostoevsky- and she’s not even listening to me. Great. Okay.” Luke sighed as he grabbed the book, observing it. It seemed well-loved because the novel was almost falling apart and its delicate pages were stained brown with coffee and tea.

Luke cracked open the book, raising his eyebrows at the sight of highlighted words, pen marks, and sticky notes inside. “She likes annotating.” He muttered to himself, running his hands over the pages.

The writing stopped near the end of the book and Luke realized it was because she had yet to finish it. An idea burst into his head and he quickly exited the cafe, clutching the book close to his chest. His usual routine would be to wait for Chris outside but he strolled back into the library, eyes landing in a group of giggling girls.

“Hey, ladies.” Luke boyishly smirked at them, which almost caused them to melt. “Do you have any sticky notes and pens I could borrow?”

That’s how he ended up with a pile of sticky notes and a multitude of pens at his disposal. Luke couldn’t read that well due to his godly side but he sure tried. Luke had heard about how a book girl’s love language was someone else annotating a book for her. In this case, this was Luke waving the white flag for good.

“Yo, Luke, you ready to head off?” Chris returned an hour later, just as Luke was finished scribbling on sticky notes and placing them carefully on the crumbled pages. Chris arched an eyebrow. “You can’t read.” He stated.

Luke rolled his eyes. “I know but this is me trying to befriend her. Trust me, it’ll work.” The brunette led his friend to Y/N’s locker, easily picking it open with a bobby pin he found on the floor. “Say hello to friendly Y/N.” Luke grinned as he placed the novel on the top shelf and closed the door.

“If this works, I’ll give you my dessert for a week.” Chris piped up

Luke chuckled, putting all his faith into his plan. “It’ll work. And deal.”

•

Chris and Luke watched Y/N like hawks as she opened her locker, letting out a small yawn as she did so. She spotted the book immediately. As she flipped through the pages, something unexpected happened that left Chris gaping.

She smiled. Her pink-tinted lips curved into a bubbly smile as she read something and she even let out a quiet laugh. As she turned her head, her gaze locked with Luke’s. She sent him a nod of acknowledgment before leaving to get to class.

“Looks like I’ll be having extra dessert.” Luke cockily uttered, teasing his friend.

“I can’t believe it actually worked.” Chris clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Better luck next time, buddy.” Luke tilted his head back as he laughed. “Get to class. We can’t blow our cover.”

Luke’s first class was with Y/N. Actually, all of his classes were. And that was on purpose. He had to keep a close eye on her in case anything happened. Nothing ever did, which was unusual. Monsters sensed demigods as soon as they turned twelve but Y/N was Luke’s age and still hadn’t run into one. Luke found it strange.

He sat down in his chosen seat and turned his head, surprised to see Y/N sitting beside him. “Impotence means the inability to do something effectively.” She spoke, looking at him. Luke was at a loss for words as his lips parted.

“What?” He stupidly questioned.

“‘The fear of appearance is the first symptom of impotence’. You put a question mark next to impotence.”

“Oh.” Luke could recall doing that. “I guess I did.”

“You don’t write very well.” Y/N said. “At some point, you started writing in Greek. You know Greek?”

“To an extent.”

Y/N quietly hummed. “The ability to go from English to Greek is somewhat impressive. Your Greek is better.”

Luke almost smiled at the backhanded compliment. “You know, writer, I always took you as a Jane Austin girl. Pride and Prejudice and what not. How come you’re reading Crime and Punishment instead?”

Y/N shrugged. “I want to know more about Russian culture.” She simply said, opening her science textbook. Luke stared at her.

“You want to know more about Russia? I’ll show you. Come on.” Luke tugged Y/N out of her seat much to her surprise. She gasped.

“But class.” She said, but Luke ignored her.

“It’ll be fine. You’ll love it.” Luke reassured her as he pulled her out of the room.

“I’m not sure I will.” Y/N groaned, trying to dig her heels into the ground to slow Luke down. “We really should go back to class.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in worry while Luke clicked his tongue.

“No. We don’t.”

Before Y/N knew it, she was outside the school building and walking down the road behind Luke. “Where are we going?” She asked, receiving no reply.

“Wait here.” Luke said, pausing in front of a large wired fence.

“Are you sure you aren’t the serial killer here?” Y/N muttered, almost scoffing. Luke jumped, easily grabbing onto the fence and climbing up. “You look like a monkey!” Y/N exclaimed. Luke quietly chuckled, reaching the top.

“You’re funny, writer- Woah!”

Y/N gaped as Luke tumbled down, harshly hitting the ground. “Are you okay?” She asked, her eyes wide. Luke groaned as he stood up, clutching his shoulder.

“I’m fine. I just have to rearrange my shoulder real quick.” He said, grunting. Y/N watched in horror as Luke grabbed his own shoulder, readjusting it with a terrifying crack.

“That’s not normal.” Y/N said, cringing. “Your shoulder should not be doing that… oh, my gosh! You need to see a doctor soon. That crack was disgusting!” But Luke ignored her.

“You can climb, right?” Luke questioned.

“I am not climbing and falling like you.” Y/N sneered. She looked around, spotting a door. “I’m glad I’m not dumb like you.” She pushed the door open, mockingly staring at Luke. “Voila. No need to look like a monkey.”

“And there our truce goes, writer. I’m going to beat you up now.”

Y/N lightly laughed, rolling her eyes. “You can’t hit a lady.” She warned.

“Oh, you’re right. Damn me for being a gentleman. If only I was a girl. I could slam you.” Luke teasingly slung an arm around her shoulder as he led Y/N through the woods. “Chris and I found this place by accident. I thought you’d like it, especially after seeing your obsession with books. That’s not normal, by the way. It’s creepy. You treat books like your friends.”

“For your information, I have friends.” Y/N snapped.

“You have one friend. And she’s not even at the school.”

“So? Who cares. Besides, I talk to Sehee.”

“Sehee Kim hates you.”

“Yeah. But she’s toned down. We’re acquainted now.”

“Whatever you say, writer. Close your eyes.” Luke slapped a hand over her face, concealing her gaze. “Don’t peek. It’s a surprise.”

“If you plan on killing me, don’t eat me. I’m not into cannibalism.”

“You wrote an essay on all the media’s that portrayed cannibalism. The hills have eyes, that plane crash with the sports team. What else am I forgetting?”

“The Bean clan. Technically, that wasn’t a show or movie but the hills have eyes were inspired by it. At least, I like to think so.” Y/N paused, “Wait, you read the essay?”

“You’re a model student, writer. Of course I read your work. It took me a few days.” Luke grinned, though Y/N couldn’t see it. “Alright. You ready?” Luke rested his chin on Y/N’s shoulder as he lowered his hands, emitted a small gasp from Y/N.

“This place… what the…” She was speechless. In front of her was a beautiful, old library. Vibes of ivy wrapped around the shelves yet the books still looked functional. Albeit, a little old but they didn’t look like they’d turn to dust if she touched them.

“It’s an old library. Abandoned but still pretty. All of the books here are in Russian. You like it?”

“I love it… Castellan.” She gently smiled.

“I come here when I need time to think.” Luke sighed to himself, gesturing to a small corner where a blanket and a few pillows lay. “I can’t read in general but it’s comforting.”

“How’d you know I have dyslexia?” Y/N asked, arching an eyebrow.

Luke shrugged. “I had a feeling.”

“To answer the question from yesterday, yes. I do have dyslexia. But I envied children who could read so I got help. More like I begged the orphanage to get me help. I wanted to read and write so I did.”

Y/N ran a hand over the books, letting her fingers trace over the delicate golden details. Luke watched as she walked past the sturdy wooden shelves, a gleeful skip in her step.

“What’s your favourite book?” Luke asked as Y/N opened an aged book, staring at the words carefully printed in black ink.

“Oh. I actually have it with me.” Y/N began, digging around in her bag to pull out a small paperback. She showed it to Luke. “I want to die but I want to eat tteobokki.” She uttered. Luke stared at it, eyebrows lifted.

“You read… self-help books?”

“Well, it’s more like a biography or a memoir. It doubles as a self-help book. And yes. Is that a problem? It's an opportunity to learn how these type of books are written."

Luke shook his head, pressing his lips into a thin line. “I just wasn’t expecting it. I mean, why do you need help? You seem to have your life figured out. Studying, Harvard, journalism."

Y/N softly cleared her throat as she stared at him. “Castellan, I firmly believe that everybody needs help. Even just a little bit. And my life is literally falling apart if I’m not in school. My orphanage is crumbling to the ground and I’m probably going to be kicked out soon. On top of that, I think I’m going crazy.” Realising she was ranting too much, Y/N took a breath and stopped talking.

“We’re all crazy in a way, writer.”

“No. I’m actually crazy… Castellan, I see things… things normal people shouldn’t see. Creatures… weird things… things I can’t describe.” Y/N pulled at the ends of her hair. Luke was quick to grab her hands, stopping her.

“I understand, writer. Trust me. You may think I don’t, but I do.”

“You hallucinate too?”

“It’s not hallucinations. It’s real. I know I probably sound crazy. You see strange animals, right? Like, monsters?”

Y/N turned her head, staring at Luke with wide eyes. Y/N silently nodded. “How… how did you know?”

“I need you to listen to me, writer. And don’t call me insane or judge me or any other mean thing you like to do.” When Y/N still didn’t say anything, Luke continued. “How do I put this… You’re a demigod. I am too. Chris as well. Your mother is, uh, a goddess. You’re a half-blood. And eventually… monsters are going to chase after you.”

Y/N gawked at Luke for a few long minutes before she looked away. "You're crazy."

"I'm not crazy. I told you I'm not."

"Okay, not crazy. You're mad, out of your mind, deranged, demented. You're a lunatic, unstable, unbalanced. Non compos mentis!"

"Are you speaking in Latin right now?"

"We have to recite the school song on the spot. We get extra credits if we say it in Latin. You didn't know that?" Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're... not lying. Gods and goddesses actually exist... don't they?" Luke sighed, nodding his head.

"I'm sorry to put all of this on you now but we really have to go. It's unusual that the monsters haven't sensed you yet. We have to find Chris before"- Luke was cut off by a loud roar. Y/N gasped, clutching onto Luke.

"What was that?" She gasped.

Luke pulled Y/N up, holding her tight. "We have to go. Now. Come on." Y/N's hands shook as she tried to shove the old book back into its place. Luke grabbed it, cramming the book into her bag. "Just take it. Take the book!" Luke grabbed Y/N's wrist, pulling her out of the library.

"Whatever that thing was seemed close. We have to hurry." Luke and Y/N ran out of the forest and barged past the door to the metal fence. "Chris will meet us at the road. Come on!"

There was another roar and Y/N shrieked. A blast of flames engulfed the fence, burning away at it. "Oh, my gosh... what is that?! Is that a fucking dragon?!"

"So you can swear! I never expected that!" Luke exclaimed as he stood in front of Y/N, drawing a sword.

"You have a fucking sword too?! What the fuck!" Y/N screamed, "What is going on?!"

"Stop cussing! Y/N, I need you to listen to me. Run. Run as fast as you can and find Chris. Please." Luke pushed Y/N back.

"What? No! I am not leaving you with that... that beast! And I don’t really what to be alone too!” Y/N furrowed her brows but Luke was persistent.

“Go! Go!” He shouted. Y/N spun around, sprinting away. She heard Luke’s sword clash with the dragon’s hard scales and she looked over her shoulder.

“Find Chris!” Luke shouted again.

Y/N gasped as she burst through the vegetation, almost crashing into Chris. “Oh, my fucking god! Chris! Castellan- I mean Luke is fighting against a dragon! What do we do?!” Panic glazed over Chris’ eyes.

“Y/N, stay here. It’ll be fine. I’ll be back soon!” Chris ran off. Y/N shakily inhaled as she looked around. The road was barren and there wasn’t a car in sight.

“This is fine… totally, inexplicably fine.” Y/N muttered, thickly gulping. But her panic flared up again when she felt a presence behind her.

She shook as she turned around, her head slowly lifting to stare at the dragon. “… Oh, I’m fucked.” Y/N’s bag felt heavier than it did before. It slid off her arm, crashing to the ground. Y/N scrambled back as the dragon blew a mouthful of burning smoke through its sharp fangs.

“Nice boy… or girl. Or are you gender-neutral? It doesn’t matter.” Y/N nervously chuckled as she slowly kneeled down to search for something, anything, to defend herself. Instead of a sharp pen or maybe a heavy book, she pulled out a golden brass spear with electricity crackling through it.

“Oh… this works.”

The dragon growled as its beady eyes watched her trembling form. Y/N swung the spear at the dragon, managing to hit it with a lucky shot. The dragon roared, throwing its head back in pain. Y/N landed another blow and managed to dodge the beast’s claws.

“Man, am I glad I took those sports classes now!” Y/N shouted, ducking. She swung the blade of the spear ay the creature, slicing a scale off. Y/N yelped as blood oozed out. “Oh, that is revolting.” She wrinkled up her nose.

The dragon, seemingly very unhappy with Y/N’s wide use of vocabulary, grunted as it stalked towards Y/N with heavy steps. Y/N gulped. She gripped the spear tightly, trying to think of what to do. As the dragon neared, her survival instincts took over and before she knew it, she was hurling her weapon at the dragon’s chest. It groaned in pain as the tip impaled its flesh before disintegrating into a fury of golden specks.

Y/N panted as her spear clattered to the ground. “… I’m glad javelin was a requirement at school.” Luke and Chris arrived at the scene a moment too late, staring at the golden flecks in surprise.

“You… took down a dragon?” Chris asked in shock while Luke was silent as he subtly lifted a hand to touch the scar on his face.

“Yes. Now, can we get out of here before we get slaughtered like the family from the hills have eyes?! If I die, I can’t get into Harvard!” Y/N exclaimed, picking up her spear that had transformed back into the old book from the library.

“She’s right.” Finally, Luke spoke up. “We need to get moving. The stronger monsters have already sensed us. More will be coming.”

"Wait!" Y/N shouted, causing both of the boys to pause. "Oh, my gosh... What about Harvard?! I can't get into Harvard with all these monsters running after me!"

"You didn't tell her?" Chris asked, glancing at Luke.

Luke quickly shrugged in confusion. "I told her about camp! But I may have left out the part where she has to go if she doesn't want to be slaughtered..."

"What?! No, I'm not fit out for camp! I need to go to school and study so I can get into Harvard and study journalism so I can become like Christiane Amanpour!"

"We'll explain more at camp." Luke uttered, wrapping his hands around one of Y/N's arms while Chris did the same on the other side. The two boys dragged her away, ignoring how she kicked and screamed, mainly about Harvard and how her career was ruined now.

Eventually, she calmed now. The trio now calmly walked along the empty road with Y/N in the middle. “I mean, at least it can’t get worse than a dragon.” Y/N said in an effort to raise spirits.

Above, thunder rumbled as rain began to pour down. Y/N loudly clicked her tongue, “Never mind.” She grumbled. “But hey, can’t get worse”- Lightning crackled and hit a tree near Luke. He jumped as the leaves went up in flames, though they were quickly distinguished by the large droplets of rain. “Okay, but surely”- Luke cut Y/N off.

“Please… writer, stop talking. We’ll hide in that cave until the rain stops. It’s getting dark soon too. We officially leave tomorrow.” Luke uttered, pointing at a nearby hole in the rocks. Y/N jogged for cover while Luke and Chris took their time, not caring about the rain because they were already soaked to the bone.

“So, you call her writer? Cute.” Chris mockingly smirked as he knowingly winked.

“Yeah, so what? What do you call Clarisse? Oh, that’s right, you haven’t confessed yet. You have the right to judge me when you confess.” Luke walked away while Chris was left standing there, speechless.

“Touché.” Chris muttered under his breath.

•

Luke woke Y/N the moment the sun rose. She groaned as he shook her awake, sleepily rubbing her eyes. “What do you want?” She muttered, trying to kick him away.

“Time to get moving before any more dragons come.” Luke grinned as Y/N quickly sat up. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, writer. Come on, we’ll get breakfast at the train station. It’s the fastest way to camp.”

It was a thirty minute walk to the nearest train station and in those thirty minutes, Luke would not stop talking. And Y/N thought her rambling was bad.

“Why do people like peanuts anyway? They taste so… nutty. I don’t like peanut butter. The look of it, the taste of it, the texture, the way it sticks to the roof of my mouth. Ugh! Gross.” Luke faked a small gag while Y/N slowly nodded.

“Do you usually talk this much?” She questioned, recalling the days where Luke hardly spoke up in class unless he was replying to a girl in love with him.

"No. Not unless I've got a pretty girl next to me who's too smart for her own good." Luke grinned while Y/N rolled her eyes at his pathetic flirting.

“Have you got money? Once we get to the station, I would suggest we buy tickets first. Food can wait. Besides, the train should have food too.” Y/N said, checking her watch. "When's the next train? We should try and catch the earliest one."

"Jeez, who made her in charge?" Luke whispered to Chris behind Y/N's back.

“What? You think you’d be in charge?”

“Well, this is my quest after all. Plus, I thought there’d be a voting. You know, a show of hands.”

Chris sent Luke a look. “Don’t be like Percy, man. She’s like our Annabeth. She’s obviously in charge. And I’m like, uh, Grover.”

“And let me guess,” Luke deadpanned, “I’m Percy.”

“Yeah. Always trying to change the system into a voting thing. Just let the pretty girl do the work and we won't get killed."

"I can hear you, by the way." Y/N butted in, staring at the two boys with an unimpressed look.

"That's the point." Luke replied.

"The train station is right over there. I'll buy us tickets." Y/N said, outstretching her hand.

"Huh? Why do you have to buy the tickets?"

"Because, genius, it's suspicious to see two guys with a girl. They’ll think you’re kidnapping me. Which, mind you, you technically are.” Y/N ran her hands through her messy hair to smoothen it down, “The faster we leave, the better.” She brushed the dirt off her skirt and adjusted her wrinkled blouse so she could fit in more with the crowd.

Luke begrudgingly handed over a part of the given money to Y/N. She smiled, which only fuelled his annoyance. “After we buy tickets, we can look for food if we have time.”

“Why can’t we split up?” Luke interrupted, earning an eye roll from Y/N. Chris silently watched as they bickered, not wanting to get involved. It was like they were in class again, always going back and forth until the teacher forced them to stop.

“Splitting up would be dangerous. We have to stay together. But when I buy the tickets, don’t follow me. Hang back.”

Luke had no choice but to agree with the plan.

“So,” Chris shuffled closer to Luke, “Still think we should have a voting system?”

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hp-hcs · 11 months

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on a slytherin high rn so I'd be interested to see your take on yandere enzo berkshire? (on his own or poly with mattheo or theodore because there's no such thing as too much of the theo's) or just any sort of enzo x male reader.

~yanxidarlings; why you should make your writing blog a primary blog (case study)

poly bc i love my theo boyos ☺️

i tried real hard on this one i swear, just none of my words are wording right 😭

really? nobody has a single request? 🤨🤲

detention — yandere! poly! lorenzo berkshire & yandere! poly! mattheo riddle & yandere! poly! theodore nott x male! hufflepuff! reader

TWs: possessive/obsessive/toxic behavior, referenced homophobia, implied past repeated homophobia, homophobic slur, implied past bullying, references to past violence, graphic threats of violence, sexual innuendos, implied sexual activities

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“…really, I don’t know what you were thinking. Here, this is the detenti- Mr. Riddle! Mr. Nott! Get off of those desks!” McGonagall scolded, snapping her fingers and casting a wandless spell that made them both fall off of their desks and safely into their chairs.

You hover awkwardly at the doorway of the classroom-turned-detention-room, feeling the sudden piercing eyes of three Slytherins on you.

McGonagall huffs in disappointment, pats your shoulder, and leaves without a word. The boys all share a look you can’t quite decipher.

“Well, well, well. What’ve we got here?” One of them drawls, putting his feet up on his desk and crossing them at the ankle. “A pretty-boy Hufflepuff got in trouble?”

You rock back and forth on your feet, biting your lip nervously.

“Aww, he’s nervous,” another Slytherin cooed patronizingly. “What’s wrong, little badger? Afraid of a few snakes?”

The first boy stands up, sauntering over to you with an obnoxious smirk. He holds his hand out for you to shake.

“Mattheo Riddle, darling.”

You slowly take his hand and shake it, your grip loose.

“Nice to meet you,” you say softly. “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” the second boy purrs, joining the first, Mattheo. “Lovely name for a lovely boy. I’m Theodore, sweetheart.”

You swallow thickly, the two taller boys standing over you.

“Leave ‘im alone, guys,” the last boy speaks up. “I’m calling dibs.”

“W-what?” You squeak, your eyes darting between the three as they all share another wordless look.

“Come along, little badger,” Theodore grins widely, predatorily, slinging an arm over your shoulders. “We don’t bite.”

“Unless you ask us to,” Mattheo adds on, joining your other side and wrapping an arm around your waist.

Your cheeks burn with the innuendo and all of the attention. “Er…no, I’m alright. Thank you.”

“If you ever change your mind…” Mattheo shrugs, leaving the offer unspoken.

The third boy finally stands up, swatting away Mattheo and Theodore. They both, surprisingly, acknowledge him and step away from you.

“Ignore these idiots,” he says fondly. “They think only with their dicks and never their brains.”

The Theos™ immediately break out into loud protests at the accusation. The third Slytherin rolls his eyes.

“I’m Lorenzo, but most people call me Enzo.”

“What do you call yourself?” You ask, voice still soft and almost getting lost in the clamor of the two other boys.

“What?”

“You told me what people call you…but what do you call yourself?”

He blinks.

“Uh, Lorenzo, I guess.”

You nod. “Lovely to meet you, Lorenzo.”

“I have a feeling that it’s lovelier meeting you, Y/N.”

~~~ “So why did you get detention?” Theodore asks, looking up at you from where he lays on the floor of the library, the spot you four had chosen to further converse at after your sentence was served. “You don’t seem like the type to really do…anything wrong.”

You wince, closing your book and relaxing further into the comfortable couch. “I uh, tried to ask this guy to Hogsmeade this weekend-” The boys all sit up at this, a dark look passing over each of their faces. “-but he uh…did not reciprocate,” you laugh humorlessly, running your fingers along your orbital bone.

They can barely see it—it’s still too early—but a definite bruise is starting to form. It’s going to turn into a hell of a black eye by tomorrow.

“He hit you?” Theodore asks, his voice low.

You shrug. “Comes with the territory of being the uh, ‘Puff Poof’, as they call me.”

“Creative. Put a lot of work into that one.”

“Tell me about it,” you grumble.

“Wait, how did you get in trouble then? If you were the one who got beat up in the first place?” Mattheo asks, his face scrunched up in confusion.

“Oh, I called Dumbledore a uh…‘batshit crazy abuser with a sanctimonious attitude and a god complex’. As it turns out, he did not like that.”

They all stare at you for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Holy shit.”

“Talk about misjudging someone, damn.”

Your laughter eventually dies off and the conversation comes back around.

“So, Y/N, uh, what was this guy’s name?” Lorenzo asks sweetly, innocently. “Just..curious, is all.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Cormac McLaggen.”

They all collectively grimace.

“I know, okay? No need to rub it in.”

“You have terrible taste,” Mattheo scowls. “Asking out fucking McLaggen when we’re right here.”

“Yeah, don’t need to worry about him anymore, sweetheart,” Theodore says, sitting up from his spot on the floor and moving over to settle between your thighs and rest his chin on your knee. “We’re enough, aren’t we?”

Your cheeks burn at their words.

~~~ “What’re you all doing, bringing a Puff in here?” A fourth year jeers as the boys lead you through the Slytherin common room to the dorm they all share.

Theodore stares at the kid with his dead eyes; unnerving to everyone in the common room.

“If you even so much as look at him again, I’ll carve your eyes out in your sleep.”

The threat comes not from Theodore, but Lorenzo.

You gape, bewildered, as Lorenzo leads you down the hall, humming to himself like nothing happened.

“Same goes for you, you know,” Mattheo leans down to murmur in your ear. “Don’t even think about looking at another boy, got that, lovely?”

You reach their dorm and are roughly pulled inside, the door being slammed shut behind you all. Theodore pushes you up against the wall, pinning you in place.

“Ours, understand?”

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kahluah · 21 days

Note

*puts hand up* sorry I’m very new here what’s the context with what’s happening with the tag war??

Alright, I will give my run down, but I will not be naming any blog names on either side even if I have the info and the action was net positive. I just like to use my blog to scroll and reblog for the most part and refuse to embroil myself in the drama more than just giving my view on it as a bystander. One that definitely has an opinion on the events, but also as someone who would rather curate my own experience than fight.

So all this fighting that is going on, it used to just happen in the normal "Jiang Cheng" tag because back then there was no "canon Jiang Cheng" tag; it had not been created yet. (By that I mean it was not a tag used as a tag, Tumblr's shitty search algorithm might still show posts if one typed it in to the search bar because those posts had the words 'canon', 'Jiang', and 'Cheng' in the tags separately, but there would not be posts with "#canon Jiang Cheng" because nobody normally creates a post with a tag like that when "#Jiang Cheng" was suffice. Sometimes I see irrelevant posts in the canon Jiang Cheng tag, but the actual tag isn't on the post, the tags just happen to have all three words in them. Those I ignore because that is Tumblr's fault, not the poster.)

The fighting was between people that like the character and prefer to see the good in him and the interpretation of his character, and those that may or may not like the character (just because you like a character does not mean you need to defend their every action after all) but do not share that opinion of his character and have a more neutral or negative portrayal by contrast. The former also tended to favor or have only read the novel as it is the source material for all other adaptations.

Now things really came to a head when hate and threats were being thrown about on posts that were just quotes from the book showing the negative actions of Jiang Cheng. The people posting the quotes were basically told "if you hate the character why don't you just tag the post as anti-JC?!" but is it really right to call those anti posts when they were posting how the character acts in the source material? That is the character. That is how he acted. Look it is in the book! The character really did that! It is not somebody's negative headcanon that the character may act like that, it is something the character actually did. Personally I can not consider that as an anti character post, and neither did the people who made posts like that.

But things did get heated enough that some people finally took a step back and said "Fine. You want us to make our own space to make these posts so that you do not have to see us talk about JC this way? We will. It will be #canon Jiang Cheng and you can block it if you don't want to see the posts." Was the name picked in the spirit of schadenfreude? Very probable, but it is also not an incorrect name as the people who wanted to use it base their opinion on the novel. But the point was that the tag was created so that people now had their own space to make the posts they wanted and those that did not want to see it could block the tag. Curate your own experience; we can block tags on this site for a reason and advertising tags to block is a courtesy. (Because as said previously, the search here sucks, because the posts contain the character's name they are still likely to show up in the main tag, but block the newly created tag and you will not see those posts either way). Could the other people come into the tag in good faith and make arguments with textual support? Yeah, that was welcomed, but in the spirit of debate they should expect rebuttal. Was that what happened? No.

No instead what happened was basically this meme

They did not like the name chosen for the tag. They read the novel too and still believe that JC is good, so they should be able to use the tag too! Never mind the fact that the tag was made so they could block the posts they didn't want to see. So that they can go on with their days no longer having to deal with the people they constantly fought with. No. Instead of curating the experience of this website, they would get so hung up on the fact that there was now a tag called #canon Jiang Cheng in use that they had to use it too to defend JC from the people that post 'negative' things about him; even if it is novel text!

So while the fighting didn't stop, it did get slightly better because not everyone felt the need to jump into the new tag to defend their fave. Some people actually did curate their experience. Plus there is a block button and people do use it, so things got to a point where I would say it was relatively stable even if there was still fights here and there. (But once again I lurk, I do not participate. Things may not have been the same for more outspoken people).

But then a certain muskrat bought Twitter and a chunk of the fandom there fled here. That's when the main push to "reclaim the tag" and the new influx of people hopping into the tag to argue and defend their fave appeared. These people did not know why the tag was made, they just saw blogs that they liked telling people about the "JC-antis" that made it and how with the new people pouring into the Tumblr fandom from twitter, they had a chance to flood it and reclaim it. And since then the fighting has not really stopped.

As for what has happened in the past few days, you have JC defenders flooding the tag with fan art (not canon), screen caps from CLQ (not canon), and screenshots of a sentence or two from the novel (canon, but usually out of context or lacking additional lines that go on to rebut what was previously said) in the tag and the people who made the tag for a specific purpose getting mad about the spam. (I block so I have no clue how big the influx was or whatever but there was definitely like at least 3 new people I had to block). So when they made posts venting the anger, you got JC defenders coming back to them and going "But I never sent any hate or harassment! I just used the tag to talk about the canon character!" And perhaps they didn't, but these people in their defense always ignore and never respond to the question of why they are in the tag instead of blocking it because that is what the tag was made for. Instead they come back with "Well if you want to talk about JC that way, why don't you post in the anti tag or make your own tag!"... Remember that meme picture I used above. Yup.

The tag war began because people did not like negative posts about JC in the main character tag for JC. When told to use the anti tag or make a new tag, a new tag was made, but instead of curating the experience the stans of JC got so tilted at the name of the tag that they decided that they would come into the tag and continue the fight instead of just blocking it. Twitter fallout made the fighting worse. And now we have come full circle to the JC stans once again telling people to just use the anti tag or make their own tag.

#canon jiang cheng #canon jc #this is my interpretation of the events I saw happen #Humans in a group suck there will always be some bad faith actors on both sides #but being one of the good ones by not personally sending hate does not absolve you from your actions #especially when you are invading a space that was not made for you that you were told to block #personally I laugh at the irony that the stans embody the negative traits of their fave by doing so #they take the same type of actions they excuse and try to use similar arguments to excuse their actions #exactly as i said at the end of my last post #if you come in actual good faith and understand the point of the tag i welcome you #I like the tag because it made it easier to find posts made by people who view JC the same as I do #I only read the novel #But yeah play stupid games win stupid prizes if you tell people to make their own tag dont get mad at the name and just block it

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oc-tournaments · 6 months

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This is a blog dedicated to running OC tournaments! A new theme will be decided every time, decided by the followers. The first theme will be chosen by me, and is as follows:

GOD'S FAVOURITE PUNCHING BAG!

Note: Does not need to actually be a God! "God" refers to you, their creator, who enjoys putting them in situations.

To submit an OC, please read the rules below carefully before submitting!

I will be accepting fandom OCs and personal story OCS! However, for personal reasons I will not be accepting Harry Potter/Wizarding World, Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss or Homestuck OCs. This rule is firm and will not change.

You must submit a description of your OC and why they're God's favourite punching bag for them to be eligible!

The size of the bracket will be determined by the amount of submissions we receive.

No real people/canon characters can be submitted.

Be civil! ANY hostility towards other people or their OCs will result in being blocked and banned from interacting with any tournaments. This blog is not intended to breed hatred, but to showcase people's OCs and to generate new likings towards them!

You may submit up to three OCs, but only one per form! You will have to name your Tumblr blog to submit an OC, but you can request not to be named in the polls.

Self propaganda is allowed and encouraged, but hate propaganda towards other people's OCs is not allowed under any circumstances.

Your character must have some sort of reference image. Picrews and other dollmakers are allowed, but faceclaims are not.

The closing date for submissions is May 30th!! Please reblog and share to any friends who may be interested in submitting an OC <3

And please bear in mind this is my first tournament blog, so be kind in any criticism you may have of how I run things.

Fill in the form below to submit!

NOTICE: SUBMISSIONS ARE CLOSED! TOURNAMENT PREPARATIONS ARE UNDERWAY!!

Relevant blogs tagged for reach under cut! So sorry if you didn't want to be tagged, don't feel pressured to reblog <33

@tournament-announcer @variouspolltournaments @sekaicards @the-most-design-of-all-time @autism-rizz-tournament @ocquestionaday

#tumblr tournament #tournament poll #character tournament #tumblr bracket #ocs #oc stuff #original characters

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kattyee · 8 months

Text

Feeling like a fool

Lucifer Morningstar x Fem! Reader

tw: unrequited romance, heartbroken

Summary: You and Lucifer started dating two years after Lilith left, you loved each other, you loved him, he loves you, right?... You didn't know it, until she returned, the love of his life, his Lilith.

Part I Part II Final Part

Why? You can't help but feel stupid, like a fool. You thought he finally loved you, that he wanted you. Was that all you were to him? Someone to distract him from his wife's abandonment? You felt so stupid, so much so that you couldn't help but shed tears, begging him to stay, to don’t leave you...

“Lucifer, please…” she says with tears in his eyes, oh, those eyes, those eyes that according to him were the most beautiful, that according to him he loved more than his own life.

He only looks at her out of the corner of his eye, while he takes the hand of Lilith, his beloved, the one who returned for her husband after disappearing. What about her? The one who stayed with him, the one who accompanied him at all times, the one who did not abandon him...

"Leave." Luicifer turns around, but before he can start walking (y/n) grabs his arm. “Lucifer, please… don't leave me, I-I love you, please don't leave…”

Lucifer keep silent while Lilith begins to speak. “What don't you understand, fool? He does not love you, he has never loved you, Yours have always been me. Do you think if I hadn't left he would have chosen you? He wouldn't even have looked at you. Now get out of my house once and for all, go back to the streets where you came from, to the garbage dump, darling.”

She looks down “But what about us? Our moments together, everything we went through, it was all a damn lie?! Everything you promised me, everything you swore?! Liar!!" She loses all control when she sees how the person who was supposed to be her partner left her for her past love. “Listen, our thing was never anything serious, you know? It was a... just a hobby, okay? Now please go…” points towards the door with his finger.

…

Silence, that's all there is in the room. She lets go of his shoulder and walks towards the door, once outside she starts running. “I'm a fool, I'm a fucking stupid fool! Because? Why do I still have this fucking luck? I'm always the fool..."

Empty… all these years, all so that he would leave you as soon as he had the chance, you reached an alley you sat on the ground while hugging your legs and crying harder. After all, this was where you belonged, right? To the shadows, to the trash. You cried all night… “I feel like a fool for falling in love with you…”

Note: Hello! This is Kattie, I know it has some errors, but since I started today I didn't want to leave the blog empty. Tomorrow I will correct the grammatical errors, spelling errors and details of the fic since today I will go to sleep because it is very late, haha. I hope you liked it, good night🤍

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hotel hazbin #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #lucifer x reader #kattyee #lucifer Morningstar x reader #lucifer #hotel hazbin x reader

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scary-grace · 2 months

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Off-Script - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Tomura's been Dabi's stunt double for almost a decade, and he's not easily impressed, but when he squares up with you for a fight scene, he finds himself caught off-guard in more ways than one. As the shoot progresses and sparks fly between the two of you, Tomura has to decide if you're worth the risk -- or if the best sparring partner he's ever had is all you'll ever be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

This is my second fic for @threadbaresweater's follower milestone event, with the prompt 'summer blockbuster'! As usual, thank you for running this event and congratulations on the milestone!

Chapter 1

“No.”

“No?” Midoriya Izuku repeats. He taps his headset, like there’s something wrong with it instead of what Dabi just said. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t do swordfighting,” Dabi says. “It’s in my contract.”

Midoriya looks baffled, just like every newbie director who’s ever hit their head against one of the batshit provisions in Dabi’s contracts. And Dabi’s not anywhere close to done with kicking the director around. “How come I’ve got a sword, anyway? Quicksilver didn’t have one in any of the other movies. Or the comics.”

In Tomura’s opinion, Dabi should keep his mouth shut about what happens in the X-Men comics. Everything he knows about the comics and the character he plays is something Tomura had to explain to him way too many times, in detail. “We’re rebooting the Apocalypse arc,” Midoriya says. “The premise is that Apocalypse rises in every age – long enough for people to forget about him in between – and the same characters have been fighting him the whole time, reincarnated over and over again. Only this time it’s different, because four of those characters have been chosen as Horsemen, and they’re fighting for Apocalypse, not against him.”

“Great. Why is there a swordfight?”

“In the original arc, technology provided a boost to the anti-Apocalypse forces,” Midoriya says. “By setting it in the Iron Age, we’re taking that advantage away. That’s why everyone has weapons. Including Quicksilver.”

“Cool.” Dabi lights up a cigarette. “I’m still not doing it.”

“But –”

“That’s what I pay him for.” Dabi jerks a thumb at Tomura. “Talk to him.”

Tomura’s been Dabi’s stunt double for basically all of Dabi’s career. Most stunt doubles stick to stunts, but over the years, Tomura’s role has expanded from stunts to include anything Dabi doesn’t feel like doing. Swordfighting isn’t a stunt. It should be well within Dabi’s skills. And it is – he just doesn’t want to do it. Which means that Tomura’s up.

Midoriya looks at Tomura hopefully. Tomura levers himself up off the wall and rolls his shoulders. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

Midoriya follows him to costume and makeup, yapping the whole way, trying to figure out what he did to upset Dabi so much. Tomura thinks about explaining that it’s not Midoriya’s problem and Dabi’s just like that, then decides against it. Midoriya’s the one who decided not to recast Quicksilver, and Dabi isn’t exactly known for being easy to work with. He made his own bed. Tomura’s not here to tuck him in, and he’s not here to make excuses for Dabi. He’s here to do stunts. That’s it.

Quicksilver’s costume isn’t skintight, which makes it miles better than any of the other Quicksilver suits Tomura’s had to wear since Dabi was first cast in the franchise. It’s his first time in the outfit, so he asks the costumer about it. “There was no Lycra in the Iron Age,” Magne explains as she stitches one last panel into place. “The director wanted historically accurate materials. And the SFX team threatened to quit if they had to edit any more bulges out of the shots.”

That’s a relief. Whenever a new movie in the franchise comes out, the fan blogs make lists ranking all the bulges, which is awkward at best and career-threatening at worst, given the one time a list used a shot where Tomura was doubling Dabi and ranked it higher than Dabi had ever placed on his own. Midoriya is deeply weird, even as far as directors go, but Tomura will take the wins where he can get them.

He tunes back in to what Midoriya’s saying as Magne screws around with his hair to mimic Quicksilver’s signature look. “Who am I fighting again?”

“Psylocke. You read the script, right?”

Sure, Tomura read the script. The script isn’t the problem so much as the fact that the actress playing Psylocke quit last week. “Did you find a new one?”

“Of course!” Midoriya brightens up creepily fast. “Right, you should meet her! She’s – um –”

“Up at the site already,” Magne says, spraying Tomura with hairspray without warning him first. “She was pretty quick to costume. I didn’t even have to put her in a wig.”

Midoriya beams. “She’s great,” he says. “We’re lucky we found her on such short notice.”

“Who is she?”

Midoriya says a name Tomura’s never heard in his life. Magne hasn’t heard it, either. “Come again?”

“She’s on the newer side,” Midoriya says. His smile’s looking a little insane. “Are you ready yet?”

“Just a sec.” Magne sprays Tomura again, then attaches three motion-capture dots to his forehead. “There we go. All set.”

Tomura stands up, but he doesn’t get clear fast enough to avoid Magne’s customary ass-slap. “Break a leg,” she says.

“Thanks.” Tomura slinks out of the costume tent, already in a mood.

They drive to the site in one of the various beat-to-shit Jeeps Midoriya inherited from the person who directed the last X-Men movie. Midoriya drives, which is bad all on its own, but halfway there, Tomura realizes there’s someone missing. “Don’t we need Aizawa on this?”

“Aizawa’s choreographing the first big fight scene. Most of the actors haven’t done real swordfighting before, so it’s taking a while.” Midoriya’s grip on the steering wheel goes white-knuckled in a way that makes Tomura wonder if he should be bailing out of the car. He’s pretty sure he can do it without getting a single bruise. “Even if it’s just for a few tracking shots before we cut away to you – sorry, Dabi – chasing Psylocke, it needs to look good.”

That’s fair. Tomura hates a lazy background shot, on the rare occasions when he watches a movie. Midoriya glances at him. “I know you said you read the script, but – give me your take on what’s going on in the scene.”

Tomura’s heard Midoriya ask people that before. Correction: He’s heard him ask actors before. “I’m not an actor.”

“There’s not a ton of dialogue in this scene. The physical aspect has to tell the story,” Midoriya says. “So?”

He’s not going to let this go. Tomura decides to get it over with. “During the main fight, Psylocke lifts the artifact everybody’s fighting over and runs. Quicksilver goes to catch her, but she uses her mutation to slow down time around him, which puts him on the same playing field as she is. They fight, he pulls her mask off, and figures out she used to be on his side. Then she cheap-shots him and escapes with half the artifact. Did I get it?”

Midoriya nods, but he’s frowning. “Quicksilver and Psylocke are foil characters in this interpretation of the story. He’s Magneto’s son and she’s part of a family of heroes. When they recognize each other, it should be a shock – they’re not just seeing a friend who’s now an enemy, they’re each seeing the person they should have been. So the back half of the fight should, like, reflect that.”

Tomura doesn’t do emotional turmoil. “You want Dabi for this.”

“That was the plan,” Midoriya says. He sighs. “Just – do your best, okay?”

Tomura was doing high-wire stunts while Midoriya was still in high school. He doesn’t need hyping up for a swordfight he can do in his sleep. But just because he can do it in his sleep doesn’t mean the actress Midoriya pulled out of a cattle call will be any good at it. “Does Psylocke 2.0 know what she’s doing?”

“That’s why I picked her.”

Huh. Tomura crosses his arms over his chest and slouches in his seat for the remainder of the ride.

The site is up on a bluff, in a stretch of forest thick enough that barely any sunlight gets through. “This is supposed to be a nighttime scene, but thanks to the tree cover we can fake it,” Midoriya explains as he parks the Jeep and scrambles out. “Hey, guys! Over here!”

The crew looks like they’ve been waiting a while. Tomura knows most of them after spending the last seven years on the sets of various X-Men movies and hanging out at C-list afterparties. Of the group, he really only gets along with Spinner, who handles props. Everybody else is just someone else to be irritated with when they inevitably start bossing Tomura around. He props his feet on the dashboard and waits for something to happen.

“Psylocke! Quicksilver! Over here!”

Midoriya’s beckoning to him. Tomura forgot about Midoriya’s habit of using character names during shoots, and he thought Dabi was just using it as something to bitch about until right now. It’s annoying as hell. Tomura gets out of the car and skulks over, but someone else gets there first. Midoriya’s talking to her as Tomura approaches. “I know the script says you’re shooting with Dabi, but he, um, doesn’t do swordfights, so he sent his stunt double instead.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not you,” Midoriya says hurriedly. “He’s just having an off day.”

“An off year,” Tomura corrects. Midoriya jumps, steps aside, and gives Tomura his first look at you.

He sees right away what Magne meant about your hair – you match Psylocke’s design from the comments in length and color, even if the texture’s wrong. You’re a little shorter than the original actress, and you don’t look like an actress, even though the makeup artists already got to you. Actresses in big-budget films look a lot like each other, because they’re all wearing the same makeup and getting the same plastic surgeries, and they’re all the same kind of hot. You look way too much like a person. Like you should be behind the camera, not in front of it.

As Tomura sizes you up, he’s well aware that you’re doing the same thing to him, probably having the same thoughts. But you smile and hold out your hand to shake. “Hi. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Tomura shakes your hand for lack of anything better to do. “Go see Spinner for props,” Midoriya instructs, “and think about how you want to do this. Maybe get in character also? I’m not sure how many takes we’ll get before the light changes.”

“Got it,” you say. “Spinner is –”

“The guy with the swords,” Tomura says. It’s hard not to roll his eyes, and it gets harder when you fall into step beside him. Spinner is waiting for you both behind the props table. “Hey.”

“I was expecting Dabi,” Spinner says, picking up a sword. When Tomura reaches for it, Spinner chucks it to one side and lifts another. “I was gonna give him that one, but you’re better than he is, so I can trust you with this.”

Instead of the kodachi, he’s holding out a tachi to Tomura. “See how you like the balance on that. And for you, Psylocke – one katana, coming right up.”

Tomura keeps one eye on you and your sword while he’s testing the balance on his. You’re not being stupid with it, at least not yet. Holding it properly is the lowest possible bar, but Tomura’s met plenty of actors who can’t even manage that, and at least your grip looks solid. You walk a few steps away to practice sheathing and unsheathing it, and Spinner elbows Tomura. He nods in your direction. “What do you think?”

“What rock did Midoriya find her under?”

“I think she’s a stage actor,” Spinners says. Great. “Mainly musicals. She’s never gotten cast as anything bigger than an understudy.”

Tomura would facepalm, except he’s holding a sword. “Still,” Spinner says speculatively, “the director’s not a total moron. He must have seen something he likes.”

“Yeah. He likes not having to blow the costume budget on a wig,” Tomura says, probably a little too loudly. He sees your shoulders stiffen, and you turn to face him. You don’t look like you’re going to cry or anything, but Tomura’s been wrong about that before. “What?”

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to practice, or if we’re doing it blind,” you say. Before Tomura can answer, you make the decision. “I say blind. It’ll look more authentic if we’ve never fought each other before.”

Tomura likes that idea, if only because the chaos will mask his total lack of acting skills, but he was counting on a practice round to test your actual abilities. Still, it’s your funeral. “Fine by me. I’m not going to go easy on you or anything.”

“I’m glad,” you say, and smile. Tomura already saw you smile once, but it was nowhere close to being this spooky. You have to be doing it on purpose. “I wasn’t planning to go easy on you, either.”

Tomura should say something – maybe along the lines of ‘we just got off on the wrong foot, don’t cut my fucking head off’ – but before he can, Midoriya orders everyone to places. He must have given you instructions ahead of time, because you vanish into the trees, leaving Tomura to follow Midoriya’s hyperspecific directions for hitting his first mark. “We’re just going to roll,” he says, as Tomura steps out of frame and braces himself to run. “I’ll call cut once things go sideways.”

Things go sideways in choreographed fight scenes all the time. Things going sideways in an improvised fight is a guarantee. “Right.”

“Psylocke, are you set?”

“Set,” you call out from somewhere.

Midoriya takes a deep breath, like he’s the one who’s about to start a fake fight. “Okay. Action!”

Fake-running and skidding to a stop isn’t Tomura’s specialty or anything, but he can make it work. He hits the mark Midoriya specified, raises his hand to the hilt of his sword without drawing it, and takes a look around. Right here and now, there’s no reason for Quicksilver to think that someone’s about to attack him. Even Psylocke using her powers to slow him down could just be a tactic to ensure her escape. She’s basically already escaped. All Quicksilver has to do is wait for her grip on time to slacken, and then –

A twig snaps behind Tomura and he throws himself forward into a roll, pivoting as he gets to his knees and drawing his sword in the same moment. You put a lot of strength and a lot of momentum into your first strike, and if this was a real fight, Tomura would be injured or dead. As it is, you checked yourself at the last second, and you take your time settling into your next attack, giving Tomura just a second or two to plan out his own.

No attack yet. His wingspan is wider than yours and the blade of his sword is longer, which means the first step for Quicksilver to avoid a katana through the neck is to get out of Psylocke’s range. You’re not screwing around, so Tomura won’t, either – he picks up a handful of leaf litter, throws it into your face, and gets to a safe distance, remembering at the last second to make it look even sort of stylized. It’s a movie, after all.

You’re taking it seriously. The suddenness of your first attack has Tomura on edge, and the lack of any direction or choreography means he’s got no idea what you’re going to do. They won’t be in the back half of the fight until he pulls your mask down, and haphazard grabs look stupid on camera. He needs to get your mask on the first try, and between now and then, he needs to put on a show.

Tomura strikes at you, and you duck, pivot, halfway inside his guard before he can reverse the strike. But you’re in too close to use your katana effectively – on purpose – and Tomura aims a punch at your torso, hoping you know how to fake a hit. You do. You exhale sharply, jerk backwards, and Tomura separates from you again.

Who the hell are you? Where did you come from? Why are you going this hard? It occurs to Tomura as he parries your counterstrike and returns a few of his own that these are the same thoughts Quicksilver would be having if any of this was real. Now that Tomura’s introduced hand-to-hand combat into the equation, you start using it, too, throwing a high kick that brushes ever so slightly against Tomura’s jaw. Tomura snaps his head sideways to make it look good, then lurches backwards in response to a fake punch to the solar plexus. He’s holding his own, and he’s in control of the fight, but to the camera and everybody else it’s going to look like Psylocke is handing Quicksilver his ass.

And you should be. Tomura underestimated you, then insulted you, and now you’re making him pay. But as interesting as the fight’s getting, it’s a movie, not a grudge match. Tomura shortens his attacks and you step in closer, close enough for him to grab your mask. Or it would be, if your face was where it’s supposed to be. Instead you’ve gotten all the way inside Tomura’s guard, stepped across him, and grabbed his shoulder with your free hand – and now you’re throwing him over your hip to the ground.

You’ve got the physical strength to pull it off – Tomura can feel it – but he gives you some help anyway, making the resulting fall look even harder than it’s supposed to. He lands flat on his back with you poised above him, pinning him down with your katana at the ready. Now would be a great time to grab the artifact, since it’s hanging on a loop around your neck, but Tomura’s got his orders, as stupid as they are. He reaches up, seizes the mask over your mouth and nose, and pulls it down.

You really can act. Tomura watches your expression shift from startled to shocked to something else, and you recoil backwards away from him. Tomura’s slow to rise, because Quicksilver’s supposed to be shocked, too. Dabi’s going to have to deal with whatever character choices Tomura’s making here, and he’s going to be pissed. Tomura doesn’t care. If Dabi wanted to have a say over what this fight looks like, he should have done it himself.

You’re pulling your mask over your face, pressing it down. You’re so busy with it that Tomura almost gets away clean with grabbing the artifact from around your neck. You catch him at the last minute and pull it back, and it splits cleanly between his hand and yours. You take one artfully reckless swing with your katana and Tomura ducks back just a little farther than he needs to. Which is when you turn and run, booking it out of frame and towards the far edge of the woods.

Some camera guy – Iida, Tomura thinks – chases after you. Tomura’s off the hook, but he holds still anyway. He’s gotten yelled at more than a few times for moving before the director’s officially called cut. But Midoriya isn’t calling cut. He keeps not calling it. Tomura can hear him, though. He’s muttering to himself.

“Hey, boss-man!” hollers the unit director – Togata, or something. “Want to call a cut?”

“Oh, oops! Cut! Definitely cut.” Midoriya sounds like he couldn’t give less of a shit. When Tomura turns to look at him, he’s got a notebook and he’s writing furiously. And mumbling again. Tomura’s worked with a lot of directors and more than a few weird ones, and once he rules out the hand fetishist and the guy who wanted the fight scenes to include real knives and real blood, Midoriya’s definitely the weirdest.

You come back from wherever you ran off to, and you don’t seem to think Midoriya’s as weird as everyone else does. “Are we waiting for notes?”

“Huh?”

“After we run a scene in a stage show, we get notes,” you say. You’re not quite breathing hard. Neither is Tomura. “Do you not do that around here?”

“Nah,” Togata or whoever says. “Usually the director just hollers at whoever screws up and makes everybody do another take.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Who screwed up? Was it me?”

“You certainly took some liberties with the scene,” Iida says. “The original intent –”

“You want original intent, don’t tell us to improv,” Tomura says. The fight with you was maybe the most intense fight scene he’s ever done. When Midoriya inevitably nixes it, Tomura wants a copy. He addresses you. “It wasn’t you. Somebody on the sound side probably fucked up.”

“Excuse me?” The sound tech – maybe Jiro? – looks like she wants to club Tomura to death with a boom mic. “I fucked up? If you two hadn’t gotten all –”

“Midoriya,” Togata sings out, patting Midoriya on the shoulder. Midoriya jumps. “Hey! Good to have you back! Should we get set for another take?”

“No.”

Mirio looks confused. He’s not the only one. “Are we taking this one back to the drawing board?”

“No.” Midoriya shuts his notebook and looks up, his eyes shining in the crazy way movie people get when they have a really wild idea. “That was the take. We’re done.”

“What?”

“That was it.” Midoriya’s grinning. “It was perfect.”

Now you look weirded out. Finally. “No notes?”

“We need some close-ups, but –” Midoriya grabs his radio and hollers for somebody to put Dabi in his costume “ – you guys did a great job. Like, even the timing – it’s going to be so easy to use those beats for close-ups, and all the character stuff – you were so in sync it was scary, but emotionally you were each totally on your own journey, and it looked –”

“Hey, take a breath. Don’t faint,” Jiro instructs. Midoriya sucks down some air, and Jiro turns to you. “You did your first fight scene in one take. Congrats.”

Spinner lifts the sword out of Tomura’s hand, then takes the two halves of the artifact from both of you. Tomura’s done here for now. He’ll hitch a ride back on the Jeep that brings Dabi up and find a place to nap. Hopefully. He feels a little too keyed up to take a break right now.

You’re still standing there, looking sort of dazed. It annoys Tomura for a second, until he remembers that you’re used to understudying in musicals, not shooting superhero movies. “Hey,” he says, and you startle. “That was a solid fight. You’re better than I thought.”

“That’s not hard,” you say. “All I had to do to be better than you thought I’d be was to not impale myself or anybody else.”

“I haven’t seen you work before today. Sue me,” Tomura says. “You know what you’re doing. That was a really good fight.”

You shrug. It pisses Tomura off. Fishing for compliments always does, and Tomura hates it – but instead of telling you to grow up, he tries to hit you over the head with it for real. “You might not know your head from your ass yet, but I do, and it was a good scene. I haven’t had a fight like that in –”

Years? A decade? Tomura doesn’t think he’s ever been in a fake fight that felt real without actually feeling unsafe. “That’s the best one I’ve done in a long time,” he says finally. “You’re a real actress now. That modesty shit isn’t cute.”

You shrug again and make your way over to where Midoriya and Iida are talking. You’re probably going to ask Midoriya if you did something wrong, and he’ll get weird and reshoot the whole thing. Or he won’t, and he’ll think you’re insecure, which drives most directors up the wall. The fight scene was good on the first take. That never happens. Excuse Tomura for wanting to enjoy it.

“Shigaraki,” Spinner says from behind Tomura, and Tomura looks at him. “That’s not how you talk to girls.”

“Huh?”

“You, like – negged her. A lot,” Spinner says. Bullshit. Tomura knows what negging is. He knows he wasn’t doing it. “You told her she sucks, and then you told her she doesn’t suck as much as you thought she did. And then you trashed her whole career before now –”

“When did I do that?” Tomura’s done with this. “I said she knew what she was doing.”

“Uh, yeah. She took you to the cleaners on camera,” Spinner says. “And I hate to be the one to say this, but you looked really into it.”

What does he mean, into it? Tomura was doing his job. If he doesn’t get into it, he has to do extra takes. “So, like I said,” Spinner continues, “if you want to talk to girls and have it go anywhere, you have to give actual compliments. Not just tell her you’re surprised she wasn’t worse.”

“That’s not what I said,” Tomura growls. He doesn’t like anything about this conversation – not what Spinner’s implying, not what Spinner’s telling him to do. “Since when do you give me advice about girls?”

“Since I’ve gone on a date in the last six months,” Spinner says without blinking. “When was the last time you went out?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Dabi spent the last six months in rehab. You could have gotten out there,” Spinner says. Tomura glares at him. “All you did was work out and play League.”

“That’s what I was busy doing,” Tomura says. “I don’t need lessons on talking to girls.”

“Sure,” Spinner says. “Give her a real compliment next time. It’ll help.”

It’ll help with what? Tomura doesn’t know what Spinner thought he saw, but whatever it is, it wasn’t there. Tomura doesn’t date actresses. Or actors, in spite of what a bunch of Dabi’s fans seem to think is going on between the two of them. And even if Tomura was going to date an actress, he wouldn’t date somebody like you – somebody new to all of this, somebody naïve, somebody whose confidence can barely survive a single hit. Maybe you’ll be the kind of actress Tomura would date if you make it through this shoot alive. The fact that no actress would ever date Tomura doesn’t matter at all.

Even if this is the only blockbuster you ever do, he’ll get to fight you at least one more time. There’s another fight scene between Quicksilver and Psylocke later on in the script. As Tomura leans against a tree waiting for his ride to show up while you talk way too earnestly to Midoriya, he finds that he’s already looking forward to it.

#shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x you #x reader #reader insert #stuntman au #man door hand hook car door #a bisquared production

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harrywavycurly · 9 months

Text

Trouble Next Door: That Felt Good

Masterlist: Here

TW: One tiny mention of violence(keep your hands to yourself)

Tag List: @sinczir @rach5ive @bruher @kellyxo1 @tiannamortis @forrestfantasy94 @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @gretavankleep37 @melaninjhs @amira0303 @robyn-118 @jaydaaasworld @squidscottjeans @rockstarmunsons @alanamarie @dandelionnfluff @aol19 @eddiesguitarskills @vampdaisy @br66klynbaby @raven-rust @daisyridleyyyy @i-love-ptv @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson @hideoutside @eddiemunson-fanfic @paprikaquinn @burns-in-the-sun @cherrycolas-things @exploding-bonbon @krazyk99 @idkbbyx3 @amberpanda99 @munsonmecrazy

A/N: I have more planned for some bonus content but I hope yall enjoy this little look into what happened when Eddie and Steve run into each other✨

“I’ll take two more.” Eddie shouts towards the bartender as he gestures to the empty beer bottles he placed on the bar top. “Thanks Todd.” He adds when the bartender nods and gives him a thumbs up. Eddie lets out a sigh of content as he turns and leans back against the bar so he can scan the crowd that’s chosen to spend their Friday night at the Hideout. He runs a hand through his hair as he spots Dustin and Mike arguing in the corner by the pool tables knowing he’ll have to go break that up eventually if Dustin doesn’t stop poking Mike in the chest with his pool stick.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Eddie turns his head to the side and is instantly met with a pair of brown eyes glaring into his.

“Harrington?” Eddie’s question makes Steve roll his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest. “What the hell are you doing here? You hate this place.” He asks as Todd places two fresh beers on the bar for Eddie.

“There’s only two bars in this shitty town and one of them is having karaoke night.” Steve answers as he gets Todd’s attention. “Double vodka soda please.” Eddie has to fight back the chuckle that wants to escape him as Steve orders his drink.

“Oh so you decided to spare the people at the Lucky Horse your rendition of Grease Lightning? That’s awfully nice of you Harrington.” Steve just ignores Eddie’s jab as he waits for his drink, he gets comfortable and leans against the bar next to Eddie and he knows to people passing by they’d assume the two men were friends but they’d be extremely wrong.

“Where’s your wife?” Eddie watches Steve’s eyes flicker to the gold band on his ring finger as he brings the full beer bottle to his lips. “I saw the announcement in the paper.” Steve’s voice is cold and sharp as Todd places his drink down next to him.

“She’s at home with Robin and Max having a girl’s night.”

“I knew she was in love with you.” Eddie stands up straight so he can turn and look Steve in the eyes as he takes a sip of his vodka soda. “You can’t tell me I’m wrong now Munson because that ring on your finger proves just how right I was…she never loved me…it was always you.” Eddie swallows hard as he places his beer on the counter and takes a step towards Steve who instinctively stands up so he can at least attempt to match Eddie’s intimidating stance.

“You’re such a dumbass Steve and I almost feel sorry for you…do you wanna know why I almost feel sorry for you?” Steve raises an eyebrow as Eddie just shakes his head and laughs to himself as he looks down at his boots. “She’d still be happily married to you if you wouldn’t have gone and fucked it all up…she was in love with you man and you just couldn’t see it could you? Couldn’t see how she looked at you like you hung the damn moon and all the fucking stars.” Eddie watches Steve’s face drop as his words hits him like a pile of bricks.

“No way…she never…she didn’t look at me like that.” Eddie just laughs and reaches for his beer so he can take a sip of it. “You’re full of shit.” Steve snaps making Eddie glare at him.

“She didn’t love me then at least not in the way you thought she did…she was just my bestfriend back then.” Eddie explains and Steve just stands there and Eddie knows he’s on the verge of losing it so he decides to just take one more small jab at him. “But then again I guess I should thank you or something because while she might’ve just been my bestfriend back then…she’s my wife now and that’s all because of you.” Steve’s eyes go wide at the realization of Eddie’s words sink in, he is the reason you and Eddie ended up together and it’s his own fault that you’re not his anymore.

“Fuck off Munson.” Eddie just smirks as he brings his beer up to his lips. “That ring is tacky by the way…gold isn’t for every-“ Eddie’s eyes go wide as he watches a fist collide with Steve’s cheek before he could finish his sentence.

“God that felt good.” Eddie just looks from Steve who is now slumped over a barstool back to Dustin who is rubbing at his knuckles with a giant grin on his face. “What a fucking asshole…this for me?” He asks as he grabs the full beer on the counter while Eddie tries to make sense out of what just happened.

“Uh yeah…yeah that’s for you.” He answers making Dustin smile as he grabs it and takes a long swig of it. “Let’s uhm maybe not tell my wife about this okay?” Eddie jokes as he and Dustin head towards the pool tables leaving Steve groaning in pain behind them.

“Yeah she’ll kick both of our asses so…you’ve got yourself a deal.” Eddie smiles as Dustin clinks his beer bottle with Eddie’s before going over and grabbing his pool stick so he can finish his game against Mike.

Eddie looks over his shoulder to see if Steve is still sitting there with his face in his hands and to Eddie’s surprise he’s no where to be found. Will comes up and stands next to him bringing him back to the moment at hand, Dustin and Mike’s pool game and the bet they’ve got going that Dustin can beat Mike because he’ll get so annoyed at how Dustin plays that he’ll just give up.

“Was that Steve?” Will asks as Eddie takes a sip of his beer.

“Oh no that was just some loser from highshcool…no one important.” With that Will just nods and Eddie goes back to enjoying his night out, he smiles to himself knowing that when he’s done here he gets to head on home where you’ll be up waiting for him.

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lair-of-platonic-yanderes · 21 days

Text

Lost bet. Prologue

Platonic! Yandere! Mythological Creatures AU! BSD Characters x Child! GN! Reader x Platonic! Yandere! Mythological Creatures AU! Genshin Impact Characters

Description: Your village was located near really weird place, "Cemetery of Shrines", huge chunk of forest territory, littered with few dozen of old abandoned shrines.

A welcoming place for a test of courage. And paying a debt.

You lost a bet and have to spend seven nights in an abandoned shrine. You must be alone, but you are allowed to go prepared. You also can choose the shrine you must stay in.

It's just an old building. There is no way something is hiding here.

Warning and tags: OOC. AU. Platonic Yanderes. One Shot series. Forced adoption. Chosen creatures are loosely based on real myths, their behavior can be different from the one depicted in myth.

A/N: Inspired by games "Wick" and "Five nights at Candy's 2". Names of Reader's friends are taken from "Wick" Characters.

All coincidences with real people are accidental, and do not serve the purpose of offending anyone.

This series might be more or less always running on this blog. The one-shots will be put into "seasons". Each season will include 5 fics (5 shrines/youkais/creatures).

Same creatures can appear in different seasons, but characters will be different.

I will prefer choosing characters for myself, but, if you have a proposal or an interesting idea for a youkai, you can send it, and I will consider adding it to a next season.

In a future, I might use the same characters in different seasons as different youkais or beasts. We will see.

__________

"[Y/N], are you sure, that you will be okay?" your Grandma sounded concern. Of course, her grandchild and their friends were working on a hard and important school project. It was so hard, that they have to stay overnight for a whole week in Caleb's, one of their friend, house. You put a blanket in your backpack, trying not to look at her. You mumbled.

"I will be okay, Granny. I promise."

Old lady wasn't convinced, but dropped the subject.

"I will prepare a lunchbox for you. It is the least I can do, so Caleb's mom won't worry about feeding you."

She left your room without another word.

You felt bad for lying to her. She raised you, while your father was busy working in the city. She doesn't deserve to be lied to.

But, you can't tell her the truth. You can't tell her, that for a week you will stay at some abandoned shrine, because you lost a stupid bet. And, if you don't follow the conditions, the bullying with became even more unbearable.

You finish packing your little backpack (blanket, favorite plush toy and flashlight) and went to kitchen. You will take something to eat. And then, you will wait for a few more hours before going to Caleb's house.

And then to "Cemetery of Shrines".

You always wondered why there were so many shrines around the village. Teachers in school didn't know the answer, and your grandma can only tell you fairytales about youkais and mythological creatures.

----------

Caleb's house was chosen for a reason.

First, the house was the closest to the Cemetery of Shrines.

Second, his parents, currently weren't home, and his older brother can't be bothered to count all kids in the house or look after them.

And he wasn't bothered, that a bunch of kids decided to go for a walk.

Caleb and his friends were flocking around you, while you were slowly going to the border of the forest. Of the "Cemetery of Shrines" border.

When you reach your destination, Caleb took a stack of small papers. Bad drawn maps were scribbled on them.

"So, what shire you chose, [Y/N]?" Caleb gave you an ugly grin.

You ignored him and his friends snickering and point at...

________

Season I (coming soon)

________

Shrine with a fox statue (Platonic! Yandere! Kitsune! Chuuya Nakahara x GN! Child! Reader)

Shrine with wooden birds on top of torii (Platonic! Yandere! Tengu! Dazai Osamu x GN! Child! Reader)

One of the four shrines with stone tablet with constellation on it. The Eastern one. (Platonic! Yandere! Seiryū! Akutagawa Ryunosuke x GN! Child! Reader)

Shrine with almost faded rooster's painting on one of the walls (Platonic! Yandere! Basan! Ranpo Edogawa x GN! Child! Reader)

Shrine, where you can often spot a lot of raccoons (Platonic! Yandere! Tanuki! Edgar Allan Poe x GN! Child! Reader)

__________

#platonic yandere #child reader #master prologue

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kwanisms · 9 months

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🎄 Tales from Camp Holiday Special 06 🎄

«« previous | masterlist | next »»

➮ choir teacher!Seungkwan × fem!Reader wc: 10.9k summary: While organizing a children's choir show, Seungkwan runs into an old fling who offers to help him corral the kids and help run the show. genres/themes/au: angst (only a little), fluff (a lot), smut (also a lot); holiday themes; non idol au, choir teacher au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist: @yoonguurt @wonw00t @aikisbbq @enhacolor @duchesskaren @sherituhhh @wonderfulshinee @gaebestie @drunk-on-dk @seokgyuu @salty-for-suga @aaniag @dnylwoo @1004luvangel join my taglists: main | TFC: Holiday Special closes when part 7 goes up! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: Seungkwan’s was initially the longest piece before I wrote Wonwoo’s whopping 12k novel in the OG series. I’ve grown as a writer since then so I wanted to explore more with writing for Seungkwan because while he’s my ult bias and the absolute love of my life, I actually don’t write a lot for him so when I do, I like to go a little above and beyond for my fellow Kwannie enthusiasts. So here’s the conclusion to our Lord and Savior, Boo Seungkwan’s part. Thank you so much for reading and if you enjoyed this part, please consider reblogging as it really helps me reach a larger audience. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (use protection pls. Don’t be like these two idiots lol), dubcon (they’re both pretty drunk), oral (f receiving, m receiving and it’s pretty messy), dirty talk (and lots of it cause whew), Seungkwan has a stocking & lingerie kink, begging (Seungkwan because I believe he’s pretty when he’s all flustered, red in the face, and begging), orgasm denial (m receiving), some thigh fucking (cause why not!), fingering (f receiving), power bottom!Seungkwan, slight voice kink on the MC’s part, and I think that’s all. Let me know if I missed any!

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“Alright, everyone, places please!” Seungkwan called, clapping his hands and looking over the children.

“That’s my spot!”

“Stop shoving!”

“Mr. Seungkwan, Annie took my spot!”

“Hey, that’s mine!”

Seungkwan sighed as the kids around him bickered as they lined up. This was proving to be much for him to handle. Why didn’t he agree to have an assistant? He shook his head before calling over the children’s heads again.

“Please, everyone. We need to get back to practice!” he said. “Annie, your spot is here and Jordan, there you are. Stephen, please stop pushing, we don’t push. Carrie, give Dalton back his hat.” Wrangling twenty-one children was a lot of work but it was his job as a choir teacher at an elementary school.

Upon graduating from university, Seungkwan landed this job and was surprised to find he loved it. He loved singing and teaching. Sure, the kids were hard to control sometimes but they were kids after all. He knows he was probably a handful for his mother at that age.

Once the kids were in line, Seungkwan made sure they were all accounted for before beginning practice. He’d chosen to arrange a holiday choir for the school’s Holiday Festival and had given his students the option of joining, telling them they didn’t have to if they didn’t want to. The other music teacher, Molly, had offered to help him and Seungkwan politely turned her down, thinking he could manage.

To be fair, he could manage but only just. He was barely floating at this point and the kids, as much as he loved them, were wearing him and his patience thin. If this had been his friends, he would have already been yelling at them, cursing between every word but these were kids.

He unfortunately had to be the adult.

“Let’s take it from the top,” he instructed, holding his hands up to direct. “One, two, three…”

Practice had gone about as well as he could expect. The kids were able to get through two of the planned songs before one of the boys, Evan, had a full blown meltdown over the girl next to him yawning. Thankfully the parents arrived to pick up their kids right after and Seungkwan was free to go home.

He stopped by the store on his way, remembering the grocery list on his phone. The store seemed to be a little busier than usual, the holidays being the time of the year where everyone was cooking and baking for family and entertaining friends. Seungkwan managed to snag a parking space close to the doors as a light mist started to fall over the city. He pulled his hat on and got out of his car, heading for the store quickly.

Once inside, he grabbed a cart, pulling out his phone to go over his list and start shopping. It wasn’t his favorite thing in the world but he really did relish the time he got alone in the store. It was the only place he could feel truly alone. At work, he was surrounded by children and at home, he shared an apartment with his best friends.

Seungkwan made a turn into an aisle, looking for pasta sauce when his cart ran into another and he stopped, apologizing profusely. His eyes looked up and widened in surprise as they landed on the person pushing the cart.

“Well, well, well, Boo Seungkwan,” you said with an amused smile. “Long time no see.”

Seungkwan offered a sheepish smile. What were the odds? He’d spilled his guts about the time you and he were camp counselors and hooked up at his last camping trip with his friends and here you were months later. It had been years since he’d seen you and he was captivated by the way you didn’t seem to have changed much but also at the same time, you changed a lot.

“Wow, Y/N,” he replied. “How have you been?” He watched as you shrugged. “Can’t complain,” you replied. “Just been working. I got back from an overseas assignment,” you added. Seungkwan looked at you with surprise. “Whoa, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah! It was really cool. But what about you? What have you been up to?” you asked.

Seungkwan felt his cheeks grow warm. “Uhm,” he hesitated. “I heard you got a job as a vocal teacher, is that right?” you asked. Seungkwan nodded wordlessly before finding his voice. “Yeah, I did,” he answered. “Elementary kids. They have music class divided. One vocal teacher and one music teacher.”

You smiled widely. “That’s great! I know how much you love working with kids.”

Seungkwan nodded. “Yeah, they’re really testing my patience though,” he added in an undertone making you laugh, throwing your head back. God how he had missed your laugh. “Boo Seungkwan, getting his patience tested? Unheard of,” you joked, making him join in your laughter.

“Yeah,” he started, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “It’s just we’re putting on this Holiday Festival and I’m in charge of the choir. These kids signed up for it, it’s not like this is for a grade,” he explained. “But they’re just so restless.”

You nodded as you listened to his worries.

“I’ve been trying to wrangle these kids but it’s really wearing me down,” he explained and you frowned slightly. “Do you need some help?” you asked, making him look up at you. “What?” he asked softly. You offered a warm smile. “I could help, if you’d like?”

Seungkwan couldn’t describe the relief he felt when you offered. Yet he knew he couldn’t accept your help so easily. “Oh no,” he said, shaking his head. “I couldn’t ask that of you,” he added. You shook your head with a light laugh. “You aren’t asking, Seungkwan,” you replied. “I’m offering.”

Seungkwan made a show of thinking about it before he gave in. “Yes, okay. I could really use some help,” he said quickly, making you giggle. “See? That wasn’t so hard,” you said with a smile as you pulled your phone out. “Is your number the same?”

“Uhh, no,” Seungkwan said, patting his pockets and managing to locate his phone. Once you had swapped new contact information, Seungkwan slipped the device back in his pocket. “I should probably finish this,” he said, gesturing to the shopping cart in front of him. You nodded, placing your hands on your own handlebar. “Same,” you replied. “My mom will kill me if I don’t get back with ample time for her to make dinner.” Seungkwan smiled as you looked up at him.

“Just text me the time and location of the next practice and I’ll be there.”

You let Seungkwan go first, watching as he disappeared around the corner before you headed on to finish your own shopping.

Seungkwan felt like he was speedrunning the rest of his shopping to get to the check out, hoping you might finish around the same time but unfortunately he didn’t see you again in the shop. Outside, he opened the trunk of his car, placing his groceries inside before shutting it and returning the cart.

On the drive home, Seungkwan reminisced about your time together at camp and your long standing rivalry. It wasn’t lost on him how things had changed over the years. In some of his free time, he found himself wondering what you were up to. How had life been treating you? What had changed?

After seeing you again, he was surprised to see not much had changed at all. Sure, you were both a little older, a little wiser, but you looked almost exactly the same. You had a different aura about you, though Seungkwan couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly that was giving you said aura.

Upon arriving home, Seungkwan put the groceries away, taking note that his roommate was not home before he decided to start making dinner. While he cooked, his thoughts drifted to you before remembering he needed to text you where to meet him and what time.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and pulled up your contact, hesitating for a moment as he looked at your picture. It was one he’d taken of you at camp all those years ago. The last day he saw you before you both graduated from university and started working, no longer free to work summer camps.

[flashback - 3 years ago]

“Wow,” you exclaimed, hand raised over your eyes as you shielded the sun and looked out over the ocean. “It’s so blue!” Seungkwan smiled as he looked at you. “Come on,” he said, tugging your hand. “Hang on,” you said, pulling from his grip and walking over the sand where the water was washing up onto the shore. “I’ve never been to the ocean,” you exclaimed with a laugh.

Seungkwan walked over slowly, watching you stand and wait for the water to return. As it washed over your barefeet, you squealed in excitement, looking up at him with a bright smile.

It was the last few days of the summer vacation before your final year of university. Soon you would be heading back home for school and after graduation, Seungkwan wasn’t sure when he’d see you again, if ever. He’d invited you to spend a couple weeks in Jeju with him, visiting his family before he, too, returned to school.

“We can come back,” he said, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together, giving you a slight tug. “There’s something I want to show you,” he added and led you away from the shoreline and back towards the path he’d been trying to take you on. He stopped, letting you brush the sand off your feet and put your sandals on before the two of you continued, walking along the path.

The hike wasn’t a long one and it wasn’t too extensive but it boasted arguably the best views on the island and even better was that only a handful of people knew about it. Seungkwan and his friends had stumbled upon the secluded area in middle school one summer and turned it into a haven of sorts.

As you climbed higher and higher into the mountains, you started to whine that you wanted to go back to the beach, making Seungkwan chuckle as he found the hidden path. “I promise this is worth it,” he said softly, pulling back some of the vegetation to reveal the hidden footpath that was much less traveled than the paved one you’d been walking on.

You eyed him suspiciously before stepping onto the path, Seungkwan right behind you. The path between the trees was narrow but Seungkwan kept close to you from behind, making sure you didn’t trip or stumble as you walked.

Soon the path opened up into a small clearing, overlooking the beach and the ocean. You let out a gasp as you stopped, turning to look back at Seungkwan who only smiled and gestured for you to continue.

It had been some time since Seungkwan had been here. The open area was covered overhead by the canopy of leaves and a wall of rocks lined the edge of the cliff. He and his friends had built it to feel a little safer in their youth. It also helped obscure the clear from the beach and made the area look and feel much more private.

“This is incredible, Kwan,” you said softly as you walked closer to the cliff’s edge. “Look at the ocean,” you whispered as he walked up to stand beside you. “It just stretches for miles.” Seungkwan said nothing, letting you soak in the view at your own pace. “It’s gorgeous,” you added, turning to smile at him before quickly looking back at the water as he looked at you.

“Yeah, you are,” he muttered, making you groan and playfully hit his shoulder. Your light punches didn’t seem to phase Seungkwan as he reached up, turning your face towards him as he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. After a moment, he pulled back, a smile on his lips before he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead and let go of your chin.

Seungkwan sat on a fallen log, one he and his friends had dragged up to the cliff and used as a makeshift bench. You joined him, leaning against him and resting your head on his shoulder as you both stared out over the water. Neither one of you spoke for several minutes that seemed to take hours to pass by.

“I’m gonna miss this place,” you said softly. “Gonna miss the beach, and the food,” you added. Seungkwan smiled, turning his head to kiss the top of your head. “We can always come back,” he said softly as you raised your head to look at him. “Come back?” you asked, brows knitting in confusion.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan said with a nod. “Next summer,” he continued. Your look of confusion was replaced with one of dejection. “I don’t know if that will be possible,” you said softly, turning to look away from him quickly. Seungkwan took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Why not?” he asked, searching your eyes for the answers but finding only despair. “We’re graduating,” you replied. “Once college is over, real life begins.” Seungkwan chuckled. “Well, of course,” he said, letting go of your chin. “But what does that have to do with --?”

“Who knows if we’ll even see each other again.”

The words you blurted out held a lot of weight and Seungkwan was aware of the fact that what you had shared over the last four summers couldn’t last forever but it still hit him in the gut like a strong punch. Despite knowing things might not ever progress to anything more than a regular summer fling, he still had hope. He had to. How could he not when he was desperately head over heels for you?

“Y/N,” he started, taking your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “I know our paths only cross once a year and have for the last four years,” he continued. “But the thing about graduating college, becoming a full fledged adult, and joining the real world is that we get to decide where we go.”

You looked up from your intertwined hands at him as he looked up to meet your gaze.

“And who we go with.”

[end flashback - the present]

He shook his head, pushing the memory down. Things hadn’t ended the way he’d hoped. He’d been so optimistic about the future you could have had but when graduation came around, he didn’t hear from you and he feared the worst. He’d tried looking you up on social media but never found a profile.

He eventually came to accept this and tried to move on but in the end, he was just too lovesick and so he pushed the memories and feelings down, repressing them rather than confronting them and moving on like a sane person would do.

But you were back. You were back and going to be working with him to get this choir show presentation ready. Seungkwan knew he’d be a fool if he let this opportunity slip him by so he needed a game plan.

The next day of practice for the children’s choir at the youth center came much faster than Seungkwan was prepared for and he was pleasantly surprised to see you waiting at the door for him, a coffee in either hand. You’d chosen to wear a turtleneck black dress that stopped just above the knee, sheer tights, knee high black boots and a cream colored long coat.

You looked like a vision as Seungkwan approached, giving him a warm smile. “Iced americano with extra liquid sugar?” you asked as you held out one of the cups of coffee. Seungkwan took it from you with a muttered thanks, his cheeks starting to grow warm.

“I can’t believe you remembered,” he added as he pulled the door open for you, allowing you inside first. You smiled, laughing softly as you walked together. “Of course I remembered,” you replied. “Listening to you place your order was always one of my favorite things when we were in Jeju.”

Seungkwan froze in his steps, causing you to turn. “Really?” he asked, genuinely surprised. You laughed again, nodding. “Yeah. I like listening to the way you said it in Korean. To be honest, I just like listening to you speak in Korean,” you added as he started to walk again, matching his pace.

Silence washed over the two of you as Seungkwan processed this information. Perhaps his plan to confess his feelings to you wasn’t such a bad idea after all but he needed more to go off of before he could just blurt out he was still in love with you.

“What else do you remember from Jeju?” he asked, trying to sound as nonchalantly as possible. You gave him a quick side glance. “I remember the beach,” you said softly as the two of you reached the room Seungkwan had been assigned for the practices.

He unlocked the door and opened it for you, letting you in first before following and turning on the light. “Just the beach?” he asked as he propped the door open and walked over to the desk, setting down his coffee and bag before shrugging off his coat.

He placed it on the back of the chair and turned to find you’d also stripped your coat off, allowing him to see you in your dress fully. It was a form-fitted cable knit sweater dress with long sleeves and turtleneck. The ends of the sleeves had black fuzzy cuffs. You turned to look at him.

“Not just the beach,” you replied, giving him a very pointed look and Seungkwan couldn’t help but smile as a memory resurfaced from your time together in Jeju. He’d taken you all over the island, showing you his hometown, taking you to local spots as well as tourist ones. You’d tried local specialties, seen multiple sights but for him the best part of the trip was when you got back to the cabin you were staying in.

Whether it was making dinner together, watching a movie, or in the sheets, he had loved every minute spent with you in that cabin. It was almost like he imagined being married would be. The domesticity of it all. He loved making dinner with you in the kitchen as you joked around and then doing the dishes and cleaning up. He loved curling up on the sofa to watch a movie before retiring to bed.

Not to mention being able to have a taste of you almost every night was more than worth it.

“Ah,” he said, fighting the urge to smirk. So he wasn’t the only one who remembered the sex.

You turned away from him, pulling your phone out of your purse and checking that the sound was turned off before you walked over to the desk where Seungkwan stood. “I remember a lot about that summer,” you said, leaning against the desk and looking up at him. “Like what?” he asked.

He was pushing his luck and he knew it but he still wanted to hear you say it.

“The cliff,” you said, catching him off guard. “And the cabin,” you added, your lips pulling into a smirk.

Seungkwan felt heat rise to his face at the same time it started to settle in the pit of his stomach.

Before he could answer, he heard the sound of laughter in the lobby. ‘The kids,’ he thought as he walked over to the door and peered out. He turned back to you. “Alright, they’re here,” he said, looking back at you. “I’d like to introduce you to the parents, so they know you’re here.”

You nodded and walked over to where he stood. You watched him get into his element, greeting the kids and their parents as they wandered over to the door. True to his word, Seungkwan introduced you to all the parents who were more pleased than upset to see you, a stranger, would be helping Seungkwan.

Once all the kids had been dropped off and the parents informed of your presence, you followed Seungkwan back into the room to begin wrangling the kids.

“I need everyone’s attention!” Seungkwan called over the sounds of laughter and giggling.

To your shock, the kids immediately fell silent, turning their attention to their teacher. “We have a guest today,” Seungkwan continued and you saw several pairs of eyes fall on you. “This is my friend, Miss Y/N,” he announced. “She’s going to be helping us during practices. Everyone say ‘hello Miss Y/N!’”

You were suddenly greeted by a cacophony of children saying hello in unison. You smiled warmly around at them before repeating the same sentiment. “Hello everyone,” you said in a cheerful tone. “It’s nice to meet you all!”

Seungkwan launched immediately into practice, having you help him get the children into their places and assisting him in any way you could. It wasn’t particularly hard work and whenever the kids weren’t listening to Seungkwan speak, you were able to walk around the room and gently return their attention up front.

Once practice was over and the parents came to pick their kids up, you were sure you and Seungkwan could manage this. What was the worst that could happen?

The first couple days flew by, you had settled into a routine, bringing Seungkwan a coffee before each Saturday morning practice. You started bringing him breakfast just to make sure he’d eat something in the morning. Setting up the room and getting ready for the kids to arrive while you chatted and caught up with each others’ weeks.

Seungkwan had become extremely grateful for your help and presence. He felt that the children behaved much better with you around. He was grateful for the coffee and breakfast sandwiches you brought him, claiming they were store bought but he knew damn well you were getting up extra early to make him breakfast and stopping to grab coffee.

You also made sure he got lunch, even accompanying him after practice and cleaning up the room. He was looking forward to his Saturday mornings as it meant he got to spend them with you.

The last practice fell on a Friday before the Saturday show was one long practice and dress rehearsal rolled into one. The kids were now on winter break and being exceptionally restless that day and despite his best efforts, he just couldn’t get the kids to pay attention and behave. It was the one morning you hadn’t been able to join him immediately as you had a prior work engagement.

He was really starting to worry that they’d never get through practice when the door opened and you peered in. The kids looked up as you entered and excitedly greeted you as you shut the door behind you. In your arms was a green tub full of white paper sacks.

“Sorry I’m late,” you said as you walked over to the desk and set the tub down before shedding your jacket. The weather had warmed up a little, the remnants of the snow from before melting but another snow storm was due that night. “Hi Miss Y/N!” the kids chimed excitedly, waving.

You waved back as you set your jacket down. Today, you’d chosen to wear another dress. This one was more festive. It was a Christmas green fitted bodice with a circle skirt that fell to the middle of your thighs, and long fitted sleeves. The material looked like some type of velvet and Seungkwan briefly wondered what it would be like to run his hand over the material. He shook the thoughts from his head quickly.

You’d matched the dress with pantyhose, and white low heels. Your makeup was also very festive. A soft eyeshadow look with a bold dark green lip. It was striking and Seungkwan couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you walked over, carrying the tub.

“What’s that?” he asked, peering into the tub. Each bag had a little winter and holiday motif on it. Snowflakes, reindeer, santa, candy canes, and more adorned the bags. “I thought we could take a lunch break,” you said softly. “I checked with the parents and they said they would be extremely grateful for this. I also got dietary restrictions from them for their kids,” you explained under your breath.

Seungkwan’s eyes widened as you started to address the kids.

“How about we take a little break?” you asked, smiling around at them. “I asked your parents if I could bring lunch for you all and they said yes and they also told me what you couldn’t eat, so I went ahead and prepared some lunches!” you said excitedly, showing the contents of the tub to the kids who whispered excitedly.

“Let me help,” Seungkwan said softly, taking the tub from you. “You pass them out, I’ll carry this.”

You worked as a team, calling out names and passing the lunches to the kids. Once everyone had theirs, you told them to dig in before walking over to the desk and showing Seungkwan the lunch you’d grabbed for the two of you.

The kids sat on the floor in circles with their friends, talking animatedly while they ate their lunches. You pulled a chair up to the desk as Seungkwan opened the bag your food had come in. “You didn’t have to do all this,” he murmured so only you could hear. “Although I really appreciate it.”

You smiled as you unwrapped your sandwich. “I don’t mind,” you said softly. “And besides, it lets me use up the groceries I buy in bulk,” you added. “So,” you said as Seungkwan opened a bottle of cola, setting it in front of you before opening one for himself. “Tomorrow’s the big day,” you noted and he nodded, heaving a big sigh. “They’ve been so restless and rowdy all day,” he murmured, glancing over your shoulder at the children.

“I’ve been struggling to get through this practice.”

You smiled, taking a sip of your soda before swallowing. “Well, I’m here now,” you offered. “I’m sure together we can get them to behave long enough to get through practice.” Seungkwan didn’t miss the wink you threw his way. He also didn’t miss the way it made his heart skip a beat.

After lunch, the kids were allowed to rest and you pulled out homemade bingo boards and passed them around to the kids, also passing out bags with smashed marbles as you explained the rules. It was going to be musical bingo. It was going to test their memory of the songs they were going to sing for the show as well as their parts. Seungkwan felt like he could kiss you.

He decided to get some paperwork done while you kept the kids entertained.

It took a couple rounds before kids started getting bingos and it wasn’t until the last child called out a bingo that you ended the game and passed out rewards in the form of snacks and small toys you most likely grabbed from the dollar store.

“Now that we’ve had lunch and we’ve refreshed our memories,” you said as you finished packing up the boards and bags of markers. “Let’s continue this practice cause I know you’ve all got this and you’re going to totally rock this show!”

By the end of practice, Seungkwan wanted to ask you to marry him. You’d managed to turn the children from gremlins into calm little lambs and not only did they behave during practice but they were the best they’d ever been. As the kids were putting on their coats and thanking you for today, Seungkwan had one of his students come up and tug on his sleeve. It was one of the more quiet students.

“What is it, Stephanie?” he asked, squatting down to her level. “You have a really nice girlfriend, Mr. Seungkwan,” she said softly before sauntering off to join her friends. Seungkwan glanced up to where he saw you helping one of the kids put their coat on correctly.

His cheeks burned from the embarrassment and he suddenly wondered who else thought you were his girlfriend. He decided not to dwell on it as the parents started arriving. He’d bring it up to you later.

One by one, the kids were picked up until it was just you and Seungkwan in the room. He grabbed the empty tub and waited for you to put on your jacket and grab your purse before turning the light off and following you out the door, closing and locking it.

The two of you walked to the door and stopped. “Thank you for today,” he said softly. “It was a huge help.” You smiled at him as you wrapped a scarf around your neck. The sun was already starting to set and the temperature had dropped considerably as the weather predicted for the snow coming later.

“Let me walk you to your car.”

You thanked Seungkwan as he opened the door for you and walked into the parking lot. Your car wasn’t far into the parking lot and soon you had reached it, unlocking the doors. “Just put that in the backseat,” you said softly, pointing at the tub and opening the door for Seungkwan to place on the seat before shutting it again.

“You nervous about tomorrow?” you asked and Seungkwan shook his head. “No,” he answered. “I think you’re right. They’ve got this.” You smiled as you leaned against your car. Seungkwan contemplated telling you what Stephanie had said. ‘Just tell her, you idiot!’

“You know,” he started, a soft laugh escaping him. “I think my students are really fond of you.”

Another smile spread across your lips. “Not as fond as they are of you,” you replied and he shook his head. “They don’t like me that much.” You shook your head this time. “No, really. They adore you, Seungkwan. It’s really cute actually.”

Silence fell over the two of you for a beat. ‘It’s now or never.’

“Hey, after all of this is said and done,” Seungkwan started, drawing your attention. “Would you maybe want to--”

He was interrupted by the shrill ringing of your phone and you sighed, pulling the device out, glancing at the screen before giving him an apologetic look and answering it. “Yes, mom?” you asked and Seungkwan forced a smile. ‘Cockblocked by the mom. Great.’

You waited, listening to what your mother had to say, nodding along before finally answering. “Yeah, sure. I can swing by the store on my way home.” You looked at Seungkwan and playfully rolled your eyes. “Yeah, we’re leaving just now. So I’ll be home soon… okay. Yep. Love you, too.”

You said bye, hanging up and slipping your phone back into your pocket and looking up at Seungkwan. “Sorry about that,” you said breathlessly. “You were saying?”

Seungkwan looked up, meeting your gaze. ‘Come on, she’s waiting!’

But it was no use. His momentary confidence was gone.

“It’s nothing,” he replied with a smile. “Just, get home safe, okay?” he asked, starting to turn away but stopped when you gently grabbed his arm, making him turn back to face you. “Don’t do that,” you said softly. “I know you want to say something. Don’t psyche yourself into not saying it. Just ask me.”

Seungkwan cleared his throat, cheeks burning from having been caught. You knew him far too well for his own good. He nodded, taking a deep breath. “I thought that maybe when everything is said and done, we could get dinner?” A smile spread across your face and you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’d love that,” you replied. “Just tell me when and where.”

Seungkwan nodded, stepping back as you opened your door and got in, turning on the car and rolling your window down. “Text me when you get back to your mom’s safe, okay?” he said, leaning down to look into your window. You nodded up at him. “You too. Let me know when you get home.”

Seungkwan promised he would before saying he would see you tomorrow and watching you drive off as the first few flurries of snow fell. He glanced up at the sky and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. It wasn’t exactly according to plan, but it was better than nothing.

╾───────────────────⭒✧⭒──────────────────╼

The next morning, the day of the choir show, Seungkwan woke up to a blanket of snow covering the ground but thankfully the road crews were out clearing the roads and treating them for ice. Seungkwan went about his day as usual, nerves setting in.

He wasn’t nervous for the show, but because of you. The kiss last night, even if it was on the cheek, felt extremely intimate for some reason. He chalked it up to him being overly optimistic but he was going to ride that wave for as long as he could.

As the day wore on, Seungkwan got ready for the show. The attire was festive so he chose a red sweater and a pair of black slacks and black shoes, grabbing the green and red striped elf hat and his coat before leaving the apartment. He was thankful for his building’s parking garage as he walked into the covered space, locating his car and getting in.

The concert was to be performed inside the gymnasium at the community center while the rest of the festival took place in the halls and outside. He arrived early, finding a cleared parking lot and pulled into a space before getting out and moving to the trunk of his, pulling out the box of reindeer antlers for the kids.

He walked up to the doors, thanking the man who held it open for him as he exited.

Once inside, Seungkwan made his way to the gym, greeting the staff as he walked up to check in.

He looked at the list and saw you had already arrived, his heart beating erratically in his chest.

‘What is wrong with you? Calm down!’

Seungkwan entered the gymnasium and looked around, astonished at the work put into decorating the space. His eyes landed on you over by the small stage that had been erected, talking to one of the staff members. He walked over, eyes scanning your figure.

You’d really dressed up for the occasion. The dress you wore was another green one but under this one, you wore a white petticoat, fluffing up the skirt. The bodice was fitted but instead of long sleeves, it had short off-the-shoulder cap sleeves. You had on a green Santa hat with white fur trim and the trim of your dress matched the hat. You paired the dress with some pantyhose and a black pair of shoes, ones that Seungkwan was impressed to see had red bottoms.

He approached you, setting the box of antlers on the top of the piano, drawing both yours and the staff members’ attention. Your face lit up upon seeing him, giving him a quick once over. Your makeup was similar to yesterday only your eyes had more shimmer and your lips were a deep red.

Seungkwan sighed dramatically before gesturing at the box. “These feel like they weigh a ton!” he whined and you chuckled lightly at him, turning back to the staff member before she departed, leaving you and Seungkwan alone in your little corner.

“You look incredible,” he said softly. “Th-thanks,” you stuttered, turning away to busy yourself with the box of antlers. “Not gonna lie, I kinda of want to wear these,” you joked. Seungkwan smiled, pointing to your hat. “But your hat matches so well,” he commented. You shrugged. “Maybe I want something different,” you replied cheekily. Seungkwan shook his head, turning away.

When his back was turned, you were quick to grab his hat off his head. Seungkwan spun around, eyes wide and you forced your hat into his hands. “You should have the Santa hat,” you said, putting his hat on your head. “I’m your assistant. I should have the elf ears.”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, smiling all the same as he turned back around. “You’re silly,” he murmured as he picked the box up and moved it over to the side of the stage near the steps and out of the way as you sat on the piano bench.

Seungkwan felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out, checking the screen to see Molly was calling him before answering it. “Hey, Molly,” he said softly, glancing at you before paying attention to his co-worker.

“Seungkwan, I’m so sorry!” Molly said, her voice sounding hysterical. “Whoa, whoa, are you okay?” Seungkwan asked, excusing himself and walking a short distance away from where you sat, keeping his voice down as he spoke.

You turned your head, wondering who Molly was and how Seungkwan knew her. ‘Probably his girlfriend,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Or possibly a wife,’ a voice in the back of your brain said. You mentally shook that idea away. ‘He’s not married,’ you told yourself. ‘He would have mentioned that.’

You glanced Seungkwan’s way and saw him nervously biting at his thumbnail. The look on his face was one of distress. ‘That can’t be good…’

A few moments later, after nodding and murmuring a few words you couldn’t hear, Seungkwan hung up, placing his phone back in his pocket and walked over, taking a seat beside you and hanging his head, elbows resting on his thighs.

“That doesn’t sound good,” you said as he let out a deep sigh. “Molly can’t make it,” he said softly, shaking his head. “Oh,” you replied, not sure how to respond. You had no idea who Molly was. “Is that your girlfriend?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seungkwan’s head snapped up and he gave you a bewildered look. “What? No,” he replied, sounding confused. “Molly is the music teacher at the school I work at. She teaches music and I teach vocals,” he explained. “She was supposed to be our accompaniment.”

You mentally scolded yourself before perking up. “Wait,” you said quickly, making Seungkwan look up. “Piano, right?” you asked, turning to him. Seungkwan nodded slowly as a smile spread across your face.

“How much time do we have before the concert?”

Seungkwan narrowed his eyes before checking his watch. “An hour,” he replied, looking back up at you as you stood up and turned to face the piano, lifting the key cover and opening the music book. “Let me run through these songs real quick and I can do it,” you told him.

Seungkwan has lost track of how many times he wanted to kiss you for literally saving the day. “No fucking way,” he laughed in disbelief as you started warming up, flexing your fingers. “It’s been a few years since I’ve played,” you explained, fingers gliding over the keys as you read the sheet music before pausing to look at him.

“But I think I got this.”

Not only did you manage to run through the entire set a couple times with Seungkwan but you followed the kids perfectly, surprising Seungkwan and yourself. When the show came to a close, Seungkwan hurried over to you, a man you’d never seen following him.

“Y/N,” he said as you stood up, brushing off your dress. “This is Jihoon,” he explained, introducing the man who smiled politely at you, a woman standing off to the side on her phone behind him. “JIhoon, this is Y/N,” he said, introducing you excitedly.

You didn’t miss the way Jihoon’s eyes widened slightly, glancing at Seungkwan before looking quickly back at you. “It’s nice to meet you,” Jihoon said, giving you a polite nod. “Sorry, Kwan,” Jihoon said, turning to his friend. “But I’ve got plans.” You noticed how he glanced at the woman who smiled at you and Seungkwan. “We’ll catch up soon,” Jihoon added before waving and walking over to the woman and the pair headed for the gymnasium exit.

Seungkwan stared after them before turning to you. “Sorry about that,” he said softly, taking your green hat off his head. “Jihoon is one of my friends I told you about.” You smiled as he handed your hat back and took his hat off your head, passing it back to him.

“The friends you go camping with, right?” you asked, glancing at the green Santa hat in your hands. “Yeah,” Seungkwan said softly. Silence fell over the two of you briefly before you looked up at Seungkwan. “You want to check out the rest of the festival?” A grin spread over his face before he nodded. “Sure,” he said.

“Why not? You saved the show after all. I’d do anything you asked me to, right now.”

As the festival went on, you dragged Seungkwan outside, donning your coats and walking around the ice sculpture display as well as the holiday lights, taking pictures. Despite the freezing temperatures, Seungkwan still found himself having a good time. Up until you dragged him into a photobooth.

“Nothing good happens in photobooths,” his roommate, Vernon, once told him. As you squeezed into the tight space, you scrolled through the frame options until you settled on one and pushed the button. The first set of pictures turned out okay, some of them sort of awkward so Seungkwan was determined to get ones you could proudly display.

The first picture was just a nice one of the two of you smiling. Then you separate your pointer and index fingers into V’s before putting them upside down to your head, like cat ears which Seungkwan followed. You turned to look at him, laughter on your tongue and he just acted.

His hands went to the sides of your neck, pulling you into a kiss as the flash continued, the pictures all but forgotten as soon as your lips met. It was like time stood still, your heart pounding in your chest. You felt Seungkwan’s tongue swipe over your bottom lip and you parted your lips, letting his tongue slide into your mouth, a muffled groan coming from his chest as he pressed further into you.

After what felt like forever but was probably only a few moments, he pulled back, looking at you with heavy lidded eyes, his cheeks tinged red. His lips were slightly stained from your lipstick but he couldn’t care less and neither could you.

You panted, trying to catch your breath as you stared back before Seungkwan finally spoke, breaking the silence, leaning his forehead against yours.

“God, I love you.”

Your eyes snapped open and you looked up at him. “What?” you whispered.

The moment the words left his mouth, Seungkwan knew he was screwed. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud but he just couldn’t hold it in anymore. There was no doubt in his mind that he was hopelessly and shamelessly still in love with you.

He pulled back, taking a deep breath and opening his eyes to meet your confused gaze.

“I love you,” he repeated. “I have ever since Jeju. Actually, since before Jeju,” he explained. “I’ve thought about no one else but you since then. When it’s just me and my thoughts alone, you occupy them. When I see something that reminds me of you, you’re just there. I don’t mean for it to sound so weird but I never stopped loving you,” he continued, cupping your cheeks gently.

“I just repressed all my feelings instead of dealing with them like an adult and --”

You pulled him into a kiss by the collar of his sweater, your lips meeting his and shutting him up mid sentence. When you pulled back, Seungkwan looked properly shocked. “Seungkwan,” you said softly, lips ghosting over his. “Yeah?” he whispered.

“Take me home,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. His expression shifted and he nodded. “Oh, okay,” he murmured, pulling back. “I thought you drove here.” Your smile dropped before you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“I meant take me to your home, you idiot.”

His brow furrowed in confusion before the meaning of your words sank in and his eyes widened comically. “Oh!” he said loudly before you clapped your hand over his mouth. “Shh, shut up!” He nodded, pulling your hand from his mouth.

“Right,” he said, his voice lower again. “I’ll take you home,” he said softly.

You grabbed the two strips of photos from the photobooth and allowed Seungkwan to lead you from the festival, making his way over to his car. He unlocked the door and opened it for you, shutting the door and quickly jogging around to the driver’s side before getting in and starting the engine.

The drive back to his place, he tried to obey the traffic laws, he really did, but he was just too eager and impatient. When you noticed his knee bouncing, you reached over, taking his hand gently. “We have all night,” you said softly. “No need to be anxious.” Seungkwan shook his head, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m not anxious,” he replied. “I’m impatient.”

Not long after, Seungkwan was pulling into his designated parking space, cutting the engine and making you wait so he could open your door for you. Inside the building, you tried to behave and keep your hands to yourself but the moment you entered the elevator, you lost your resolve.

“Oh, shit,” Seungkwan cursed as you pushed him back against the mirrored surface of the elevator wall, his hands moving to cup your face. “We shouldn’t be doing this here,” he grunted before taking your lips in a kiss, his tongue hot and messy against yours as your hands pulled at his clothes.

“Ssstop it!” he hissed, breaking the kiss and glancing up at the camera mounted to the shiny elevator ceiling. “Someone’s probably watching,” he whined, hands falling to your hips as your lips moved down his neck. “Then let’s give them a show,” you giggled in his ear, your breath tickling his skin.

The elevator dinged, Seungkwan pushing you back slightly. “We’re here,” he confirmed as the doors opened onto his floor. He took your hand and pulled, tugging you down the deserted hallway towards the door to his apartment. You were only able to get a brief glance at your surroundings as Seungkwan fished for his keycard.

The building was a new building, state of the art card readers on every door. The hallway reminding you of a fancy upscale hotel rather than an apartment building. Seungkwan managed to get the card to read properly and turned the handle, shoving the door open as he dragged you in behind him.

Once the door clicked shut, he had you pinned against it, lips attaching to your neck and leaving soft bites and kisses as he made his way down to your collar, whining at the lack of access due to your blazer. He fumbled with the button, succeeding a moment later and peeling the garment off you.

You kicked your heels off as he stumbled to take his shoes off. You giggled as he pulled you through the apartment, pushing you against the kitchen island as he grinded into you from behind, teeth grazing against the skin of your shoulder. You managed to stumble your way through the apartment to his bedroom, pulling layer after layer of clothes off one another, leaving you in just your underwear.

Once you were laid on the bed, Seungkwan hesitated, taking in your form under him. He could remember the last time he had you like this and it made his cock throb, wanting to bury himself inside you and never leave again.

“God,” he groaned, leaning down to press his face into your chest, his hips resting against yours as he lay between your thighs. “I’ve missed you so much,” he whined. “Kwannie,” you whined, combing your fingers through his hair, undoing the style he’d done earlier before the concert. He lifted his head, pushing himself up and hovering over you.

“Lay back,” you instructed, starting to sit up but Seungkwan placed a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back against the mattress. “Later,” he whispered, lowering his face to kiss your chest. “I just really wanna taste you,” he murmured, his voice muffled as he kissed down your stomach.

“Wanna bury my face between these beautiful thighs,” he groaned, gripping your thigh, his fingers pressing into your skin over your stockings. “Okay,” you breathed as he kissed further down. He wasted no time removing your panties, flinging them away as he settled between your thighs, kissing the inside of each before his mouth descended on your sex, fingers spreading your folds.

You gasped out as he licked slowly up your sex, lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked. You propped yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. His eyes opened lazily as he made eye contact before shutting again as he threw himself into it, tongue wiggling against you, slurping and lapping at your clit. You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance, slipping inside you until he was knuckles deep.

“Ngh, Seungkwan,” you groaned, back arching off the mattress as he teasingly curled his fingers. “Sound so pretty for me,” he noted, barely pulling back enough to speak before he was licking at your clit, tongue moving quickly against it. His fingers started to pump slowly, just enough to build the tension but he would slow them to a stop when he felt your walls start to flutter.

“Can’t have you coming undone just yet,” he murmured, placing a kiss to your mound before pulling back, resting his head against the inside of your thigh as his fingers moved quicker, scissoring you open. He watched the rise and fall of your lace clad chest, admiring the way you whimpered and mewled as he fingered you.

“I could do this for hours,” he huffed, hot breath fanning over your skin. “D-don’t,” you murmured. “I need you, Kwannie.” You heard him chuckle lowly. “You need me?” he asked, raising his head slightly, turning to place a wet kiss against your thigh.

“Need me to stuff this pretty little pussy full?”

You nodded wordlessly, moans spilling from your lips instead of words. Seungkwan felt his heart swell. Seeing you needy and proclaiming that you needed him certainly was fanning the flames and stroking his ego. He wanted you to want him. Wanted you to need him. He loved feeling this way.

The way you made him feel. Like he was so irresistibly sexy. He loved feeling that way.

“Wanna feel me inside?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave. You groaned, walls tightening around his fingers. “You like it when I talk like this?” he asked, raising himself just enough to see your face contorted in pleasure. You nodded fervently, another moan ripping from you as he curled his fingers.

“Wanna feel my cock pound this tight pussy?”

Seungkwan enjoyed the way you tensed up, thighs shaking as your orgasm threatened to wash over you. “I’ll give you what you want,” he murmured. “But only if you do something for me,” he added. You raised yourself up, resting on your elbows to look at him, a thin layer of sweat on your forehead. “Anything,” you whined. Seungkwan’s eyebrow quirked up. “Anything?” he asked.

You nodded, not realizing the implications of your words. “Yes,” you replied. “Anything. I’ll do whatever you ask, just please fuck me.” Seungkwan’s lips curled into a smile as he added a third finger, stretching your walls to prepare you. He glanced down, watching his fingers sink into your heat.

“Alright,” Seungkwan murmured, pulling his fingers from your cunt and bringing his hand to your lips. “Suck,” he ordered, cock twitching as you parted your lips and accepted his fingers into your mouth, licking and sucking them clean. He pulled his fingers from your mouth.

“Keep going,” he continued, moving a hand over his hard cock. You took the hint instantly, pushing him onto his back and slipping your fingers under the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down as he lifted his hips. You licked your lips as his cock sprang up, standing proud.

You wasted no time, taking him in your fist and leaning over, spitting onto the tip and using your saliva to lubricate, your hand started to stroke him quickly. Seungkwan let out a groan, head falling back against the bed as your hand worked him.

When you took the head in your mouth, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven, letting out a pretty pathetic moan but you didn’t seem to mind as you bobbed your head, keeping your fist at the base of his cock. Seungkwan’s hand moved, stroking your hair as he tried to push your head down further but you were firm and stood your ground.

“Please,” he whined, hips starting to buck. You pulled off him with a pop, looking at him as your hand moved up and down his cock. “Be patient,” you reminded him. “You made me wait,” you added. Seungkwan was about to retort when you took him back in your mouth, lips moving down to meet your hand as you continued to stroke him. He let out a groan instead, fingers digging into the bedding beneath him. “Fuck,” he grunted, stomach clenching. “Just like that. Just like that, baby.��

You hummed, your mouth vibrating around Seungkwan’s cock and making him gasp, hips bucking into your face. “Sh-shit!” he breathed. “Sl-slow down, babe.” You pulled him from your mouth, jerking him faster. “M’gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he warned. You licked the head of his dick, swirling your tongue around the tip before sinking your mouth back on him.

“Fuck, babe, m’gonna cum,” he warned again. You pulled back, your hand stopping at the base of his cock and letting it fall slightly. Seungkwan let out a whine of protest. “What the hell!” he cried. You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock. “Can’t have you cumming just yet,” you said with a wink.

Seungkwan could have kicked himself. ‘Of course she’s gonna use that against you. Idiot.’

You continued to work him up, bringing him to the brink only to back off and let it slip away from him. Seungkwan was a mess, begging you to stop teasing him and to let him fuck you already.

“Please, baby,” he said, choking back a sob, tears threatening to spill. “Please let me fuck you. I need to be inside you. Please, baby. Please.” Your hand slowed to a stop, lightly squeezing his cock before you sat up. “Okay,” you murmured.

You climbed over him, turning to face away as you planted your hips over his thighs. Seungkwan watched as you grinded backwards against his cock, the sensation of your panties against his throbbing cock almost making him burst into tears. “B-baby. God, fuck. Please. Let me put it in. Let me fuck you. I promise I’ll make you feel so fucking good!”

You scooted back further, reaching down to pull your panties aside and rub your dripping cunt against the underside of Seungkwan’s cock. The glide and friction felt so good, Seungkwan was certain he could have blown his load right then but just as quickly as it started, you lifted off him.

“Y/N, please,” he pleaded as you climbed off him. “Please let me fuck you.”

You grabbed his hand and pulled him up as you laid back. “Only if you fuck my thighs first,” you replied, looking up at him through your lashes. Seungkwan melted, moving quickly into position. “O-Okay?” he answered, sounding mildly confused.

You smiled up at him, taking his hand on your knee and placing it between your thighs, pressing it against your soaked panties. “I know you couldn’t get enough of my stockings earlier,” you explained. “You thought you were being slick and that I wouldn’t notice the way you were staring. But I did.”

Seungkwan groaned, moving his thumb to press against your clit through the red lace lingerie.

“And you like this set,” you added, hands moving to cup your breasts. “I noticed the way your eyes lit up when you saw it,” you added. Seungkwan nodded, licking his lips as he brought his free hand up to push one of your hands away, groping your chest. “Fuck,” he said hoarsely. “I do.”

“I fucking love how you look in it.”

You hummed in response, bringing your thighs up. “Then do me a favor and fuck my thighs,” you replied. “And then I’ll let you fuck this pussy. Raw.” Seungkwan choked on his own air as he moved into position, pushing your thighs tighter together. He brought his hand up to his mouth, spitting into it before coating his cock. He guided the head between your thighs, pushing in between them with a groan.

It was so warm and soft. Tight. Almost like fucking you for real.

“Feels so good,” you heard him groan as he pulled back slightly to thrust back in slowly. You felt his saliva smear over your skin as his cock glided between your thighs. “Mmm, that’s it,” you murmured, looking up at him as his eyes fluttered shut, brown knitting together in concentration as he tried to focus.

“That’s good,” you groaned as you felt his cock bump against your cloth covered clit. “Just like that.”

Seungkwan’s fingers dug into your thighs, holding them together tightly as he thrust his hips, fucking between your thighs. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, eyes fluttering open to look down at you. The red lingerie, the black stockings and black garter belt. You were an absolute vision.

“C-can I fuck you now?” Seungkwan asked, tripping over his words as he continued to fuck your thighs. You shook your head, gasping again as you felt his cock nudge against your clit through your panties. “N-not yet-- ah!” you gasped.

Seungkwan took note of your reaction every time his cock brushed against your clit and continued to aim for the same spot. “Come on, princess,” he moaned. “Let me fuck you.” You stared up at him for a moment longer before stopping him.

You sat up, pushing him back against the mattress. You climbed over him, straddling his hips as you reached down, pulling your panties to the side. Seungkwan guided the head of his cock to your entrance, watching as you sank down, cunt enveloping him little by little.

You continued until you were sitting on him, walls gripping his cock tightly. Seungkwan let out a satisfied groan as your walls convulsed around his throbbing length. He wouldn’t last long but he didn’t care. He was inside you again after years. It felt so good. So familiar. So right.

After allowing your walls to relax around him, you placed your hands on his chest, raising your hips only to sink back down, his cock pumping into you. “F-fuck,” you groaned as you sank down, taking more of his cock.

“Ye-yes!” Seungkwan groaned as you started to move fast, bouncing on his cock. The wet sound of his cock entering you repeatedly filled the room, bouncing off the walls and drowning out your breathy moans. You felt his hands grip your hips, trying to speed up your movements.

You slowed to a stop, pushing yourself up until he slipped out of you. “Yah!” Seungkwan protested as you turned to face away, pulling your panties aside and waiting for him to move his cock. Once you felt the tip enter your cunt, you were back to moving, bouncing on his lap, his cock plunging into you.

You felt him grab your hips, one hand moving to massage your ass. “Fuck, we should have done this sooner,” he groaned, hips bucking up to meet your movements. You placed your hands on his thighs to steady yourself as you continued to ride him.

“Stay like that,” you heard him groan and felt his weight under you shift as he sat up. “Keep going,” he urged, trying to move your hips. You lifted your ass, sinking back on him. His hands pulling you back when you lifted up. You felt heat pool in your belly, a swelling sensation as tension mounted.

Each matched thrust had you crying out. Seungkwan pulled you off him, moving to kneel behind you before reentering you. “Come on,” he grunted, now meeting your movements with ferocity. “Fuck me like you mean it,” he growled. You let out a mewl, thighs shaking as his hips hit your ass, the slapping growing louder into a clap. “Fuck,” you gasped as Seungkwan pushed your chest down, taking over as he pounded into you from behind.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he growled. “Who’s the one fucking you this good?”

“Yuh-you are!” you stammered. “I am,” he reaffirmed. “I’m fucking you like the good little slut you are. My good little slut. Such a little whore for me, aren’t you?” You nodded, fingers clenching the sheets as you pushed back to meet his movements.

Each thrust drew a little whimper from you, sounds that grew into moans and mewls as Seungkwan continued to fuck you hard. “Who does this pussy belong to?” you heard him ask suddenly, one of his hands moving to the back of your neck and pushing your face down, squishing your cheek against the sheets. “You,” you gasped, your orgasm approaching rapidly.

“Say it,” Seungkwan commanded.

“It’s yours!” you cried out. “This pussy belongs to you!”

“Fucking right it does. And m’gonna fill it up until you’re dripping. M’gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy, stuff it full, and then fuck it further into you. Pump you full of my cum ‘cause you’re mine. Understand?”

You nodded wordlessly, moan after moan tumbling from your lips onto the sheets along with your drool. “You’re mine and no one else’s! Say it!”

“I-I’m yours! A-and no one else’s!”

You heard Seungkwan groan, hips stuttering as he came, his cock twitching as he painted your walls with his hot thick load. He continued to thrust as he emptied his balls. You whimpered as he didn’t stop, hips still moving as he finally stopped pumping you full.

“Kw-Kwannie, please,” you pleaded. “S-stop. M’so full.”

Seungkwan’s hips came to a stop as he caught his breath. Somewhere between his initial release and the last of his cum spilling into you, your own orgasm had washed over you, rendering you immobile for a few moments as you came down.

You gasped as you felt Seungkwan pull from you, feeling some of his cum mixed with yours slide down the inside of your thigh. “Let me clean that up,” he mumbled. The weight on the bed shifted as he no doubt got up and walked into his bathroom.

He returned moments later, carefully wiping your skin with a warm, damp cloth. He climbed into bed next to you, pulling the covers up over the both of you before you both passed out. The next morning, you awoke to the bluish light of twilight filtering into the room.

You could hear Seungkwan’s soft snores behind you, his arm wrapped around your waist as he slept peacefully. You started to roll over, a deep aching pain settling between your legs and making you wince. ‘We didn’t even go that hard last night,’ you thought to yourself as you peered over your shoulder at Seungkwan, taking in his angelic expression.

You tried to carefully roll in his hold but you jostled him and he started to stir, making you curse internally. You watched as his eyes fluttered open sleepily. When his eyes met yours, he smiled sleepily. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice deep from having just woken up.

“Morning,” you replied softly. Seungkwan leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips. “My head is killing me,” he whined suddenly and you were glad it wasn’t just you. “We should get some food,” you suggested. “Maybe make some ramyeon.” Seungkwan nodded, rolling onto his back and turning his head to look at the clock. “Later,” he murmured, rolling back to face you, wrapping both arms around your body and pulling you flush against him.

“It’s only half past five in the morning,” he explained, tucking your head under his chin and sighing contentedly. “We can sleep in longer,” he added. You nodded silently, snuggling up next to him. “And then we can make food?” you asked, smiling as you felt him nod. “And then we can make food,” he confirmed.

It was silent only for a few moments before Seungkwan spoke again.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he murmured, breaking the silence. You smiled, tilting your head to press a kiss to his jawline. “Well, I just moved back to the area,” you replied. “Good,” you heard him murmur. “I don’t think I could survive you leaving again like before.” You felt his lips press against your forehead.

You shook your head, letting out a relieved sigh. “Nah,” you answered.

“You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

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