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maxtermind · 1 year ago

Note

absolutely loved ‘baby, would i still be your lover’, everyone single one got me in my feels! i was wondering would you consider doing a part 2? whether it ends in angst or fluff

I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument- aftermath ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort, hints of angst ★ : word count :: 4.3k ★ : a/n :: thank you so much for the love on part 1 💓 some of these have open ending so you can pick whether you'd like to forgive them or not as a reader!! feedback is appreciated :)

( part 1 )

Max Verstappen

You sighed as you sat down to have your morning tea as usual, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. As if you hadn't spent all night long getting your phone spammed with calls that you were ignoring.

After mindlessly roaming around for a bit, you eventually decided to crash at your best friend’s place. You lazily waved at her as she frantically got ready to leave for work. However, you were on your tiptoe as soon as the door opened.

A body that was possibly sleeping while leaning against the door fell inside and you heard curses that you were quite too familiar with. Your heart clenched at the sight of your boyfriend - or perhaps now, your ex-boyfriend - on his knees, nursing the wound on his head. The ache of seeing him in pain reignited the anguish you thought you had left behind.

“Okay,” you heard your friend murmur. “I'm gonna let you guys get to it.” She was out the door a second later.

You looked at the closed door instead of the man who was desperately trying to make eye contact with you.

“How long have you…” You trailed off before deciding that you didn't want to know.

“As soon as you turned your phone off, Y/N! I've been here since last night.” "Why?" you choked out, the words barely escaping your lips as tears threatened to overflow. His brows furrowed before he ran his hands over his face and got up to sit right next to you. You saw his hand itching toward yours and instinctively pulled it towards your body. "Because I needed to see you in person, to talk." He took another deep breath and you later realized that he was trying to stop himself from crying. “I realize I messed up, baby. I.. I never should have let you walk out.” But his attempt to mend the shattered pieces of your relationship only served to reopen the wounds, your walls instinctively rising in defense,"Talk? You think a talk is going to fix everything?" Max's eyes were filled with a mix of regret and desperation as he reached out for your hand, his fingers trembling slightly. "No, I don't think a talk will magically fix everything," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.

"But it's a start. I need you to know that I'm truly sorry for what happened. I hate myself for hurting you, for making you doubt how much you mean to me."

You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, the pain of the previous night still too fresh in your mind.

“How can I trust you again, Max? How can I be sure that this won't happen again?" Your voice was barely a whisper, filled with the ache of betrayal.

Max's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I know I've messed up, Y/N. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I'll work on my temper, I’ll be better to you, I'll do anything you ask of me. I just need you to give me another chance." “You know you’ve always been the best to me, right? I just can’t believe that instead of talking it out yesterday, you straight up skipped to breaking up wit-” Fresh tears started falling down your cheeks. Max immediately leaned forward to hold you in his arms and you let him because you needed him. But how could you trust him again? How could you be sure that history wouldn't repeat itself? That he won’t throw away your whole relationship just because the anger got a hold of him? As Max held you close, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you. Part of you wanted to push him away, to scream and shout at him for causing you so much pain. But another part of you craved his warmth, his touch, his presence.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Max whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, and I hate myself for it. I never meant to hurt you, I swear."

You buried your face in his chest, the tears soaking through his shirt as you struggled to make sense of your feelings.

“I just don't know if I can do this anymore, Max," you admitted, your voice muffled against him. Max tightened his embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I understand," he murmured, his voice gentle. His admission eased your thumping heart a bit, you were glad to have him back. The storm within you finding a momentary calm.

"I made you feel like our relationship was disposable, like breaking up was no big deal. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You're the most important person in my life, baby and the thought of losing you terrifies me. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us, to show you just how much you mean to me. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust if you still want me."

Lewis Hamilton

The weight of Lewis's words hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your bedroom. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite comprehend. How had a day that started with such a promise turned into this? You buried your face in your hands, the sting of Lewis's words feeling like acid running through your veins.

Outside the door, the silence was deafening, broken only by the muffled sound of your sobs. Lewis stood frozen in place, his mind racing as he replayed the exchange in his head.

He couldn't believe the words that had escaped his lips, couldn't fathom how he had allowed his frustration to morph into such hurtful remarks.

Minutes stretched into eternity as Lewis grappled with the weight of his actions, the gravity of his words settling like a lead weight in his chest.

He wanted to reach out to you, to apologize and make things right, but his feet remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the magnitude of his mistake.

Inside the bedroom, you were consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, betrayal - they all swirled together into an ugly monster, threatening to engulf you whole.

How could the man you loved, the man who had always been your rock, turn on you with such venom?

But beneath the anger and hurt, there was a flicker of doubt, a gnawing fear that maybe Lewis's words held a grain of truth. Maybe you were too insecure, too needy, too demanding. Maybe you were asking for too much, expecting him to be there for you when he had his own priorities and responsibilities. Maybe-

The sound of a soft knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Lewis standing there, his expression wrought with regret and guilt. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the unspoken apology hanging heavy in the air. Looking at him distraught made your chest feel worse. How could he make you feel ten fold worse than this and not feel a thing?

"I'm sorry," Lewis finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean what I said. I was out of line, and I know I hurt you. Please, let me make it right." He rushed through the words.

His words pierced through the haze of your pain, and you felt a bit of heaviness leaving your body. He crossed the room in a few strides, dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.

"I don't know what came over me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion before your boyfriend took your hand away from your face and kissed your cheeks. "I was so caught up in my own frustrations that I lashed out at you, and I hate myself for it. You don't deserve to be treated that way, especially not by me."

You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine remorse and regret. And despite the pain still raw in your chest, you couldn't deny the love you felt for him, the longing to mend what had been broken between you. “You hurt me,” you whispered but didn’t push him away as he laid down with you, holding you close to his chest. Some of your resolve wavering when you felt his fast heartbeat. “I wanted you there so much.” He nodded as he shushed you, his own eyes dropping tears. “I’m so so sorry, baby. I can't even begin to express how deeply I regret the way I acted the whole day, I know you deserve so much more but-” You shifted slightly, knowing all that you wanted right now was comfort, you didn't want to forgive him or minimize the weight of his actions. "I don't know if I can right now," you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions.

Lewis's eyes brimmed with tears as he whispered, "Please don't shut me out. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

You felt a pang of guilt at the pain evident in his voice. "I just need some time to process everything," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I understand," Lewis replied, his tone filled with sorrow. "But please know that I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."

You nodded, silently acknowledging his words as you allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting embrace.

"I promise to make it up to you," Lewis vowed earnestly, his voice laced with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust."

"I want to believe you," you admitted quietly, your heart heavy with uncertainty. Everything was a little too raw right now and your emotions were all over the place.

"I'll spend every moment proving it to you," Lewis declared, his eyes locking with yours in a silent vow.

“I was thoughtless and cruel today, and I never should have let those words leave my lips. You are not insecure, you are strong and resilient, baby. You deserve so much better than the hurtful words I spoke. Please know that I can’t lose you, Y/N. I will work tirelessly to regain your trust and rebuild what I have so carelessly shattered. You mean the world to me, and I will spend every moment striving to be worthy of your love.”

Carlos Sainz

As you sat nervously in your childhood home, the familiar sights and sounds providing little comfort, your mind raced with thoughts of disappointment and hurt.

For the third time, Carlos had failed to join you in meeting your parents, leaving you to face their questioning looks and unspoken concerns alone. You had rehearsed what you would say to them, how you would explain his absence, but each time, the words caught in your throat, choked by a mixture of frustration and sadness. For the past few days since you walked out of your apartment, you had been ignoring Carlos’ attempts to reconcile with you. The calls and texts he spammed you with were ignored and curses left your mouth as soon as your mind went back to the day of the argument, bringing unwanted tears to your eyes.

In the passing, you saw a Ferrari conference being conducted and as much as you wanted to reach out and talk it out with him, your heart did flips that you were sure you should have visited a doctor for.

Your parents, ever perceptive, noticed your unease as you fidgeted with the napkin in your lap, casting worried glances in your direction. You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered, betraying the turmoil within you.

How could you explain to them that the man you loved couldn't find the time to meet them, despite his promises and assurances? "What's wrong, sweetie?" your mom asked, concern evident in her voice.

You sighed, hesitating for a moment before replying, "It's Carlos... He like…"

Your dad's brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"

You tried to muster a reassuring smile. "Yeah, he said that he got caught up with work. You know how busy he is with his racing and all..." Your dad’s brows furrowed when you trailed off, about to ask you what exactly you meant but just as you were steeling yourself to broach the subject, the doorbell rang, startling you from your thoughts.

Your heart sank as you realized it was likely a neighbor stopping by to meet you since you don’t visit that often, you stood up to go greet them. But then, to your disbelief, you heard his voice drifting through the door, before you saw your boyfriend standing right behind it. Your head titled in confusion and you drew a breath that took most of the stress from the previous days away from your body.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, his tone apologetic yet determined. Carlos took your hand and kissed it lightly,"Traffic was a nightmare." “What about the conference that you-” “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/N.” He cut you off before pulling you in and walking to the dining room that was in his vision. As if that was the answer to your question.

You turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise and a flicker of hope. There he was, looking slightly disheveled but undeniably earnest, his gaze that locked on yours was as if it was seeking forgiveness. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret etched in the lines of his face.

Your parents exchanged a glance, their expressions softening as they took in the sight of Carlos standing before them.

Despite their reservations about his repeated absences, they couldn't deny the genuine affection that Carlos held in his eyes when he looked at you.

Before you could find the words to respond, Carlos took a step forward, his hand reaching out tentatively. "I'm really sorry, both of you," he said, addressing your parents directly.

"I know how important this is to you, and I should have made more of an effort to be here on time."

His words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of his shortcomings and a pledge to do better. You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a glimmer of renewed faith in your relationship. "Well, we're just glad you could make it," your dad said, offering Carlos a handshake.

"Thank you for coming, Carlos," your mother said, her voice warm yet cautious. "We understand that life gets busy, but it's important to make time for the people who matter most."

Carlos nodded, his expression earnest as he met her gaze. "I couldn't agree more. Family means putting in effort, I promise to make it up to all of you."

As you sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was tinged with a sense of reconciliation and hope. Your hand still intertwined with his as you saw him charm your family. Despite the rocky start, Carlos's presence brought a newfound sense of unity and understanding to the table. And as you shared stories and laughter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to mend what had seemed irreparably broken.

In that moment, you realized that love wasn't just about grand gestures or sweeping declarations—it was about the everyday moments of connection and compromise, the willingness to forgive and grow together.

And as you looked at Carlos, his eyes filled with determination and affection, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.

Charles Leclerc

Charles had apologized right after he had said those words and though you had both fallen back into routine, the underlying bitterness and resentment was still present. You weren’t the one initiating any kind of affection from your side and every time Charles was initiating anything, you half assed your way out of it. Was it childish? Probably. But you were still not comfortable with how easily you had forgiven Charles, burying your hurt just to avoid conflict once again despite knowing deep down that he has hurt you probably more than anyone else ever has. These thoughts were running through your head as you sat beside Charles, your heart still heavy with the weight, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Especially because Charles seemed distant, his mind preoccupied with thoughts, that you couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were. Why had he even asked to go on a date today? To break up with you? Suddenly, Pippa appeared, her presence causing the knot to form in your stomach to get tighter. She approached with a confident stride, a charming smile gracing her lips as she greeted Charles with a hug.

"Hey, Charlie!" Pippa exclaimed, her eyes flickering briefly in your direction before returning to Charles. "Long time no see!"

Charles returned her hug, though his embrace seemed somewhat forced. "Hey, Pippa. Yeah, it's been a while."

You observed their interaction closely, your unease growing with each passing moment. Pippa's presence always seemed to unsettle you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their friendship than met the eye. Was he gonna break up with you in public and confess his years long feelings for Pippa? Charles glanced at you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I was just out with Y/N today."

You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at his actions, his affectionate gesture soothing some of the tension that had been building between you.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Pippa said, offering you a friendly smile. "Sorry I didn’t see you next to Charlie."

You returned her smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes and managed to reply without gagging. "Nice to meet you, Pippa." Charles tightened his grip on your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence and support. "We were just grabbing a coffee," he explained, his gaze flickering between you and Pippa. "Care to join us?"

Pippa hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at you before turning back to Charles. "Actually, I was hoping we could catch up alone, if that's okay."

You felt a pang of anxiety at her words, a sense of foreboding settling in the pit of your stomach. Despite your reservations, you nodded, forcing a smile as you released Charles's hand. It was better to walk away yourself than to have Charles dismiss you.

"Of course," you said, though your voice sounded strained even to your own ears. "I'll wait for you outside."

Charles shot you an alarmed look as you stood up,”I’ll see you in a few.” Charles’ hand lingered on yours for a moment longer before you reluctantly let go and made your way to the door.

You leaned against your car and enjoyed the wind for a second. You couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the exchange between your boyfriend and his best friend sitting inside.

You were half scared to find them kissing or something but, instead a sense of confusion washed over you as you watched the way Pippa was angrily point a finger at Charles and scream at him.

It was a second later when she stormed out before making her way towards you.

"Is he doing this because of you?!" Pippa's accusatory tone sent a shiver down your spine, her words hitting too close to home.

Before you could even process what was happening, Charles emerged from the cafe, his expression determined as he approached you and Pippa.

"Go home, Pippa," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument as he intertwined his hand with yours.

Pippa's eyes blazed with anger, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at Charles. "You will regret this, Charles!" she spat before storming off, leaving you both standing there in stunned silence.

Once Pippa was out of sight, you turned to Charles, your heart pounding in your chest. "What was that all about?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, Y/N. Pippa has been... difficult lately."

You frowned, your mind reeling with confusion and frustration. "Difficult how?"

Charles hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the right words. "She's been pushing boundaries, trying to come between us. But I won't let her."

"Hey," he continued, taking your hand in his. "I told Pippa that I wouldn't be spending time with her alone anymore. If she can't accept you, then it's better for us to not be friends at all."

You blinked in surprise, a rush of gratitude flooding through you at his words. "Really?"

Charles nodded, squeezing your hand gently. "Really. You're the most important person in my life, and I won't let anyone come between us."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you standing up for us."

He smiled softly, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'll always stand up for us, Y/N. You mean everything to me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you threw your arms around him, holding him close. Despite the lingering bitterness and resentment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment.

Lando Norris

As you stepped out of the taxi, the cool night air enveloped you, offering a moment of respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed you throughout the evening.

Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of Lando's hurtful words, but beneath the pain, a numbness resided- knowing deep down that you might’ve just broken up with your boyfriend.

Before you could take another step, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, you saw Lando rushing towards you, his eyes filled with remorse and his expression wrought with sorrow. Your hand instinctively went to your chest, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.

"Y/N, please wait," he called out, his voice pleading as he reached your side, breathless from his haste.

You pulled your face to meet his eyes, uncertainty and wariness etched into your features as you met his gaze. Part of you yearned to turn away, to shield yourself from the pain of his words, but another part couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he was sincere in his apology.

"Lando," you said softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and apprehension. You wanted to say more but the damn ball in your throat stopped you doing so.

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he searched for the right words to express the depth of his regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I hurt you, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that."

His words washed over you like a soothing balm, offering a sliver of comfort. But still, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of the hurt that lingered in your heart.

"I should have been there for you tonight, supporting you and showing you how much you mean to me," Lando continued, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "Instead, I let my own selfishness and insecurities get in the way, and for that, I am truly sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, the sincerity in his voice echoing the ache in your own heart. You were sure you’ll regret letting go of this amazing relationship without at least attempting to work on it.

Despite the pain he had caused you, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.

"I don't expect you to forgive me right away, Y/N," Lando said softly, his hands shaking and showcasing the intensity of his vulnerability.

"I know I have a lot of work to do to earn back your trust and your love. But please, just give me a chance to make things right. I promise to do whatever it takes to show you how much you mean to me, every single day for the rest of my life."

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity and remorse, leaving you torn between the desire to hold onto the pain of the past and the hope for a brighter future. As you gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity or deceit, all you found was raw honesty and unwavering devotion.

With a heavy heart and a flicker of hope, you reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you just yet, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Lando takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. "I'll spend every moment proving I'm worthy of your love, Y/N. Let me show you how much you mean to me, starting from this moment. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, even if it means giving you the space you need. Just know that I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

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touyaismycomfortboy · 4 months ago

Text

♡ Forgotten dates...

a/n: idk I just think panicked shoto would be so cute <3

word count: 2.0k

synopsis: you and shoto had a date planned for today, you guys were gonna go out and get ice cream and go to the park. you got all dolled up and waited for him to come pick you up, but as more and more time passed, you started to realize that he had forgotten. now he has to make it up to you.

pairing: shoto todoroki x gn!reader

genre: slight hurt/comfort, fluff at the end, nothing too serious <3

warnings: not proofread and rushed LMAO

you looked in the mirror while you fixed your appearance. you were going on a date with your boyfriend, shoto, and you were so excited. even though you had been on plenty of dates, it always made you happy to spend time with him.

nothing too fancy was happening today, you two were going to get icecream at the local parlor and take a walk around the park. you were going to stuff some cards and a sketchbook in your bag just in case you guys needed something to do after a while.

it was 3:55pm, shoto was supposed to come get you at 4. you quickly slipped on your shoes and glanced one more time in the mirror before running downstairs.

unbeknownst to you, shoto was currently asleep.

he had a rather intense training day today and decided he would rest his eyes for a couple of minutes, but that couple of minutes had turn into hours and, well…

you sat on the couch that was near the window, scrolling on you phone and occasionally looking up to see if you could see shoto, feeing excited and giddy for your guys' date.

4:02, alright, that's fine. not too bad at all, two minutes late isn't bad at all. you looked back at your phone, seeing if shoto had texted you that he might be late, but he hadn't texted you since this morning.

4:08, okay… now it's weird for him to not have texted you. if he was going to be this late this needs a little warning, it's been almost 10 minutes since was supposed to pick you up, suspicious… you opened your phone once more and opened shoto's contact, texting him quickly.

y/n: hey, are you almost here yet??

(sent)

you waited patiently for it to show that shoto had read your text, but you were left on delivered for the next few minutes.

you decided to go wait outside, you could see him if he was walking down the street that way. but you walked all the way out to the sidewalk and saw… nothing.

y/n: shotoooo, where are you??

the vibrations of shoto's phone weren't enough to wake him, still sleeping peacefully in his bed back home.

4:15, okay, are you allowed to be mad now? i think you were allowed to be mad now.

y/n: heyy what's going on? where are u? you were supposed to get me 15 mins agoo

once it hit 4:20, you quickly opened your best friend, mina's, contact and called her. it took her less than 5 seconds to answer and you sighed in relief that at least one person would acknowledge you today.

"hey y/n~! what's up? you usually text me before you call me." mina sounded cheerful on the other end, a small bit of concern lacing her words.

you started to walk into the direction of her house, doing you best to not look angry to passerby. "mina, shoto forgot about our date and he's ignoring me!" you sounded exasperated. "can i come over? i worked hard to look good today, i'm not letting that go to waste."

mina gasped dramatically on the other end, sounds of her shuffling and moving around coming through the speaker on your phone. "getting ready now, i'll meet you halfway!" she quickly hung up the phone, and you laughed at her urgency.

you shoved your phone in your pocket, trying your best to not let this ruin your day. at least you got to hang out with mina, right?

shoto better have a good explanation for this.

mina kept her word, and while walking to her house you saw her pink form frantically running towards you in the distance. when she finally got close, she gasped dramatically once more. "you look so cute!! i can't believe shoto would miss out on the chance to see this!" she crossed her arms and frowned.

you smiled at her, adjusting your clothes. "thank you, mina."

she stomped her foot on the ground, arms still crossed. "how are you being so calm?! you should be so mad at him! look at how cute you are, and he's just ignoring you!" she wrapped her arm around yours and started to lead you to her house. "don't you worry, y/n, we're gonna have so much fun!"

mina didn't tell you this, but as she was walking towards you she was spamming shoto with angry messages.

mina: SHOTO TODOROKI!! explain yourself right now >:( mina: how DARE you flake off my best friend!!! next time i see you you're getting it!!! mina: i'm gonna go steal ur girl since u can't treat her right >:( mina: I SEE HER SHE LOOKS SO CUTE. HOW COULD U ABANDON HER LIKE THIS????

she might have overreacted, maybe.

shoto woke up during mina's spam, half awake and turning his phone on silent from all the notifications and laid his head down.

then, icy fear struck his heart. he immediately sat up, wide awake now.

he opened his phone to look at the time, almost scared to look.

4:38.

he cursed under his breath, quickly getting out of his bed and changing out of his sweaty clothes, trying to look at his phone as he did so.

6 unread messages.

he saw your texts asking where you were, and pangs of guilt hit him in the gut.

he saw mina spamming him with angry messages, and assumed you had told her and that you were with her right now, he had to hurry up.

he ran down the stairs, his hair still a mess from sleep. his sister fuyumi greeted him, but he quickly ran past her, slipped on his shoes, and ran out the door.

he looked at his location on your phone, he saw you were a couple blocks away and walking in the opposite direction of his house, that must be where mina lives. he quickly took note of what street you were on and started running.

he opened your contact and called you, doing his best to run as fast as he could while still being able to hold the phone to his ear.

you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, quickly reaching into it with your free arm that wasn't linked with mina's and looked at who was calling.

mina looked over your shoulder and snatched your phone out of your hand, shoving it into her own pocket. "nuh-uh! he doesn't get to be 40 minutes late and then steal you from me, you're mine now!" she pouted, squeezing your arm tightly.

"well, maybe he has a good reason-"

"nope!" she pointed her finger at you. "he ignored you, now you ignore him for a little bit to get back at him! then you can talk to him."

you sighed, shaking your head. "and you wonder why you're single." you mumbled under your breath.

mina gasped, holding her hand to her heart. "how could you say such a thing!" she asked, feigning offense.

shoto sighed as the call went to voicemail, putting his phone in his back pocket as he ran towards the street you were on. he couldn't blame you for ignoring him, but he wanted to explain himself to you sooner rather than later.

you didn't live that far away from him, so even though you were walking to mina's house you weren't terribly far away from him. he could make it there in just a couple minutes if he ran fast enough.

guilt was making its way into your gut since you ignored shoto's call, but every time you reached for your phone mina smacked your hand away and insisted that you ignore him back since he ignored you first.

you were almost at mina's house, you could see it in the distance, but then you heard fast footsteps running towards you both.

you instinctively turned around and stood in front of mina to shield her, but you were immediately taken aback by shoto running towards you.

your eyes widened, and he finally reached you he bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. did he run all the way here from his house?

you observed his appearance, his hair was disheveled and his outfit was haphazardly put together, he was sweaty and out of breath. he looked like a mess, not typical for shoto.

mina peeked from over your shoulder, gasping and taking a step around you. "shoto todoroki!! you better have a good explanation for this, i was just about to hang out with her!! you ignore her, and now you come and steal her right as i get her?" she crossed her arms and pouted.

you smiled and put a hand on mina's shoulder. "girl, it's okay."

"y/n-" shoto said breathlessly, finally standing up as he caught his breath. you looked into his eyes, and all you could see was remorse and guilt. "-i'm so sorry, really." he took a deep breath. "i was training earlier, and i decided to rest my eyes for a little, and i was asleep for longer than i anticipated, i'm sorry for being so late."

you sighed, a small smile appearing on your face. you were happy that he wasn't ignoring you intentionally, and that he wasn't playing hooky on purpose, but you still felt a little upset.

shoto took your hands in his and ran his thumbs across your knuckles. "i'm very sorry," he looked into your eyes. "would you still like to go out?"

you squeezed his hands lightly, nodding. "yes, of course." you moved your hands away from his, looking over at mina. "sorry, we can plan for tomorrow?" you laughed lightly.

mina crossed her arms again, more playfully this time. "sure, go off with your boyfriend, just abandon me-" she laughed. "go have fun!!"

she waved at you, then looked at shoto and gave him a death stare. "if you do this again, i'm stealing her." she quickly changed her demeanor and waved at you again. "bye-bye!" and walked off.

you giggled at her actions, you loved your best friend.

you looked at shoto, seeing his disheveled hair and reaching up to smoothen it out. "did you even look in the mirror before you left?" you smiled.

"no, i saw the time and had to get to you as soon as possible to apologise." his lips curved upward as you smoothed his hair. "would you still like ice cream?"

once you flattened out his disheveled hair, you stood on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. you then held his hand and squeezed it gently. "well, of course!"

shoto smiled at your happy demeanor now, happy that he didn't just ruin your whole day. "let's go."

you all peacefully walked to the ice cream parlor, you got your favorite flavor and shoto got plain vanilla. you convinced him to make it a little more fun by adding sprinkles, then stole a bite.

after you all were done, you walked to the park and traveled down the winding and weaving paths, admiring flowers and occasional birds that passed by. there was a bench that was perfectly in the shade of a large tree nearby and you both decided to sit there.

you sat in comfortable silence for a while, leaning your head on his shoulder as you looked at the scenery around you.

"i'm still sorry for being late." shoto spoke, squeezing your hand for a moment. he felt terrible.

"it's not your fault," you squeezed his hand in return, reassuringly. "maybe next time you could just set an alarm." you giggled.

he smiled, nodding in agreement. "i will." he kissed the top of your head. "i love you, y/n."

you moved your head to look at him, a subtle blush covering your cheeks. he didn't take those words lightly, you knew every time he said them he absolutely meant them. "i love you too, sho."

#shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto #x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #feat. mina ashido #mina ashido is ur best friend #fluff #slight hurt/comfort #nothing serious #carmen writes bnha

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queenie-the-court-jester · 1 year ago

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that isn't very holy of you :/

Yandere church boy x gn!reader

It came out shittier than I hoped for. Not proofread 🌺 I'll fix this when I have the time

Tw: religious themes, noncon mention, minor cult mention

✝️ you had just arrived in the small town of morning star. Having been needing a break from the city life, you rented a one bedroom cabin close by. Planning on staying here for a month, you quickly headed towards your new home, very eager to start exploring the area

✝️ wandering around the town square, it seemed everyone knew eachother. A family like community perhaps? Maybe that's why they all kept staring at you as passed through, must not be use to new faces

✝️that was until a group of children approached, asking you to come play ball with them. You couldn't say no to their puppy dog eyes, and the adult's judgemental stares so you agreed. And it was fun surprisingly! You noticed none of the children had any phones.. or the grown up's for that matter

✝️your first week there you were unsettled, but you just pushed it off as the townsfolks strange behavior, Focusing on unpacking and enjoying your stsy. Until one of the school teachers, a kindergarten one, knocked on your door on a sunday

"hi there honey! On behalf of the people I'd like to sincerely apologize for the cold welcome. It's just been a hard year for all of us! So to make it up you, won't you come to church with us on this fine morning?"

✝️ whether or not you're religious yourself, she managed to convince you to come along. Chatting the whole walk there. Talking about her husband, her children. She mentioned something about having a son your age but you weren't really paying attention

✝️ walking through the grand double doors of the church house, she sat you on the front row with the pastors family, next to a young man. You were startled as she sat on the other side of you, leaning in to whisper In Your ear as she pointed at the pastor preaching

"that's my hubby right there. He's a handsome fella ain't he?"

✝️david looked at his mother in disbelief, he told her a few a times he found you attractive and now look at her! He could practically see the gears turning in her head. thankfully you seemed preoccupied thinking, so he did his best to seem normal while his poor heart beated 300 mph

✝️after the sermon, david turned to you and have you a sheepish smile

"hi.. my name's David, but you can call me dave.. its.. nice to meet you"

✝️you and David hit it off, unlike all the other people. He didn't constantly talk about praising god and forcing his religion down your throat. He was kind, understanding. Laughing at your jokes and nodding along to your words. He never met someone so.. ethereal

✝️growing up, he had a hard time believing in his small towns "god". Watching them cut up and sacrifice newcomers to their false idols, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach heading their screams. But he could definitely devote his cause to you...

✝️he trapped you in this shitty town when he asked you out on a little date a few days later. Unaware he drugged your food and dragging you into his home, waking up chained to a bed. You couldn't tell how long you've been there, but every time you'd try to escape he'd punish you in bed. Not letting you cum or overstimulating you to the point of tears. Why would you want to leave something that can make you feel so good?

✝️he grew up desensitized to blood and gore, so he's confused when you're screaming and crying. Why are you doing that? Don't you know that this is what happens to bad spouses? What do you mean you're not married either? ofcourse you are. Stop being so difficult...

✝️nobody blinks an eye when he strides into town with you on a collar and leash. And that's when you realized, you should have left earlier. Because the whole town was sick in the head. It wasn't like you could call for help because he fucking destroyed your electronics and the people don't even have phones. Something about wifi signals can brainwash you

✝️ he's whipped for you, that much you can obviously tell. but he's smarter than he looks. Eating dinner with his family is just painful,since all they talk about is God god god. It hurts your ears with how often they just Randomly start singing praises. It's bad enough they force you to watch their cult church activities...

✝️if you give in to his demands, he'll let you off the leash but you have to stay close by at all times. If you don't, he'll have to make his punishments a little more extreme. There's also a possibility he'll force you to help around the town. whether that be looking after the children or just running around doing errands. The shock bracelet on your ankle stops you from running into the woods..

✝️if you don't, well.. you wouldn't mind if you became permanently handicapped right?

"don't be so difficult sweetie.. just stay still and it'll cut right through okay?'

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idkdudethisisntpermanent · 6 months ago

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Blurred Lines

jenna ortega x female reader

summary: You and Jenna, best friends and actresses, are cast as lovers for the first time, tasked with bringing a romantic chemistry to the screen. But as scenes unfold, the lines between acting and reality begin to blur.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: This was actually the first Jenna story I wrote!

————

What are you thinking so hard about? Jenna asks plopping down in the director's chair next to you.

After being best friends for years, you and Jenna have finally gotten the opportunity to work alongside each other on your latest film Lovestruck, a romance film where you two are playing the lead couple.

You. You wanted to say, but you were 8 years too deep in the friendzone to truly say what was on your mind. "Just the next scene," you smile at her tiredly.

Her eyes light up, "I've been looking forward to this scene for so long! God just look at that view Y/n! I'm so jealous of Lalya," she sighs, referencing the character she's playing in the film. "Just who wouldn't love to be confessed to here," your co-star finishes looking over at you with sparkles in her eyes.

When your manager gave you the script for this project, you could only laugh at how much the story paralleled your situation with Jenna. You were playing Quinn, a girl who has been in love with her friend for years, but couldn't do anything about it. Eventually the mixed signals and watching the one she loves be with others got too much, and Quinn angrily confesses by the lakefront during a sunset; the view Jenna was fawning over just a minute ago.

You could only wish that the aftermath of any potential confession of yours could resemble the one in this film. Layla ends up reciprocating Quinn's feelings and it's a happy ending.

Unfortunately the universe isn't as perfect as an angsty teen romance, and is rather a sick minded individual who gets a kick out of meddling with people's lives. For years you and Jenna have auditioned for the same projects to play friends, enemies, even sister's but why is it that the one project both of you manage to land is this one?

"Y/n/n!"

Startled, you look over at the girl who's been trying to get your attention for all this time while you zoned out. "Y-yeah sorry. You're right. It would be a dream to be confessed to here."

She hums and stands up before placing a hand on your shoulder looking intently into your eyes, "I'll see you on set after the break, hope you bring your A game Y/l/n," she winks with a smile before walking off.

Jenna walks over to Andrew another actor working the film and immediately starts laughing and touching his arm in conversation. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, but you also couldn't tear your eyes away from the scene that always happened to unfold in front of you.

It hurts you beyond belief watching your best friend interact flirtatiously with other people. Having to hear about rumoured boyfriends and especially having her not deny them. The mixed signals you got from the girl wasn't any help either, like what was that hand on the shoulder just now? The wink?!

You walk away trying your very best to calm yourself down before your big scene. Jenna frowned as she watched you walk away and towards your personal trailer.

————

The director calls everyone to set and has prepared to shoot the big confession scene. The crew helps you and Jenna find your places and fixes up any imperfections in your clothing. As you stand before your co-star you're hit with a strong wave of emotions. The 20 minutes you spent in the trailer wasn't much help, and now as you watch Jenna who is looking at you curiously, you make a realization.

You may never confess to Jenna. How could you? This friendship was the greatest you've ever had and you were aware of the fact that friendships like this one, don't come easy. It would be insanely stupid of you to confess your love and single-handedly lose a gem like Jenna completely. The more you thought about it, the interactions between Andrew, the rumours with Percy, and countless other boys, the more helpless you felt. There was no way she could feel the same.

"You okay?" the gentle voice you've come to love speaks.

You're silent. She looks at you with her big doe eyes that you've come to love, but at this very moment you hate so much. The concern in her eyes is pushing you off the edge. You hated it. You hated how her caring nature has only gotten you falling tenfolds harder. Why does she have to be good to me, why does she torture me like this you ask yourself.

"Y/n/n."

You look away, refusing to look into her eyes, scared of the emotions you'll find in them, scared of finding out how much more you could fall in love with her in this moment, so you settle on the view of the sunset.

The director begins a 10 second countdown to cue in the start of the scene and you're still looking at the sunset pondering. This may be the only time that you'll ever speak the words of a confession to Jenna. Yes, to her it'll be you performing the script, Quinn speaking these words, but she doesn't have to know that you will mean all the words you speak with every fibre of your being.

A light smile plays on your lips as you think about the performance you're about to give and how it should get you nominated for all the acting awards in existence. The lines of Quinn and Y/n have blurred, and you are playing no character other then yourself.

You won't be acting.

"Action!"

The scene begins and you start marching away from Jenna like the script told you to.

"Wait- Stop!" Jenna says frantically grabbing on to your arm.You roll your eyes, shrugging her off and continue walking.

"Why do you insist on hurting me?" She shouts, following the script. You stop walking and pause.One beat. Two beat. Just like the script instructed. You turn around, glaring at her with more intensity than the script demands, "Me? Hurt you? That's rich coming from you."

Jenna hesitates, caught off guard by the seriousness in your voice, but quickly recovers, staying in character.

"Yes you asshole! I invite you to the lake house, and all you do is ignore me!" Groaning into your hands, you speak your next line. "Layla. You're joking right?"

"No Q, I'm not. Do you even care about me? It's my fucking birthday, and you're acting like I'm not even here, sulking in one of your moods and embarrassing me in front of my friends!"

"Then what am I?"

"What?"

You laugh, running your hands through your hair, struggling to keep your emotions in check.

"If those are your little fucking friends, then what am I to you?"

Jenna acted taken aback like she was supposed to, "My friend? My best friend? I don't know that's not the point! Wh-"

You cut her off, "But it is the point!"

You break the script.

You blink hard, letting the tears that were building up before the scene fall down your face.

Jenna had a look in her eyes that you've never seen before it was confusion and something else you couldn't pinpoint. Being the amazing actress that she is, she improvs her next line, so the scene can get back on track.

"Here you go again not wanting to address the real issue," she rolls her eyes.

You decide to stick to the script with tears streaming down your face. "I can't keep doing this anymore Layla," the words carrying the weight of years of hidden feelings. "Watching you with them, pretending I'm fine when I'm not. I can't just be your friend anymore."

Jenna's eyes widen, her character momentarily forgotten as she registers the raw emotion in your voice. "Quinn... what are you saying?"

You take a deep breath, letting it all out, the pain, the frustration, the love. You're about to do it and you hope that just for a second your performance will blur the lines for Jenna. "I'm saying that I'm in love with you, and I have been for a long time. And it kills me every time I see you with someone else, knowing I can't be the one to make you smile like that."

The silence that follows is deafening. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, waiting for her response, both in character and out of it. The director's voice seems far away as he doesn't call cut, letting the scene play out naturally. For a moment you start to think that Jenna has forgotten her line, she's supposed to say, "For how long?"

But she goes off script.

She takes a step forward so she's only a foot away from you and takes your trembling hands (that you didn't even realize were shaking) in her own, an attempt to calm you down.

Jenna, as Layla, steps closer, her own tears glistening in the fading light. "Why didn't you tell me sooner, Quinn? Why did you let me go on thinking we were just friends?"

Your voice cracks as you respond, "Because I was scared. Scared of losing you, scared of ruining what we have. But I can't keep pretending anymore."

Jenna reaches up, gently cupping your face with her hands, her touch warm and soft. "You idiot," she whispers, her voice trembling. "How could you not know? How could you think for even a second that I didn't feel the same way?"

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks, and for a moment you forget that you're on set, that this is all supposed to be a performance. It feels too real, too raw.

"T-then what about everything I see? All those guys?" You say staying true to the script, but you couldn't hold your tongue and add, "The rumours? The interactions I always see?"

Jenna clearly seems taken aback by your addition to the script, and opens her mouth and closes it, at a loss for words.

You can't help yourself and continue, "Do you have any idea what it's like to watch you with other guys? To see you flirt with everyone else and feel like I'm just...invisible?"

Jenna's heart races as she realizes the depth of your feelings, the lines between the script and reality blurring completely.

Jenna continues, the rest of the scene now being pure improv. With tears in her eyes, "I wasn't trying to hurt you...Q. I wanted you to notice me. To see me the way I see you.

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. Jenna's voice is trembling, her gaze locked on yours, and for the first time you realize she's not just playing a role. She's confessing, right here, in front of everyone.

"I've been in love with you for so long," you get out through tears, "But all I've ever seen is you with them... like I don't even exist."

The shorter girl steps closer, dropping the last remnants of her character. Her hands reach up to cup your face, her touch gentle and filled with unspoken emotion.

"I didn't know how to tell you, Quinn. I was scared, so I tried to make you jealous, provoke you into action, hoping you'd finally do something. I-I was hoping you'd see how much I care. How much I...love you.

Your breath catches, your heart pounds in your ears, and you break character completely not caring anymore, in a trembling voice you ask, "You really feel the same way?"

Jenna nods, tears spilling over as she smiles, a mixture of relief and vulnerability in her expression.

"Yes, Q. I've always felt this way. I was just too scared to admit it... but not anymore."

You blink, struggling to process what's happening. This wasn't in the script—none of this was. But it's real, and it's happening now.

You smile through the tears, "Then let's stop pretending, Jenna. No more games... I'm yours if you'll have me.

Jenna lets out a small, tearful laugh, pulling you into a tight embrace. The cameras are still rolling despite your name drop, but none of that matters anymore. She pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes shining with a love that's no longer hidden.

"I've always been yours. Always."

In that moment, you lean in, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that's filled with all the years of longing and love you've both kept hidden. When you finally pull away, you're both breathless, tears of happiness mingling with the raw emotion of the scene.

The director calls "Cut," but neither of you moves, still lost in each other's eyes. For a moment, the set is silent, the crew unsure if they've just witnessed the best acting of your careers or something far more real. But you both know the truth—and it's better than any script that could have been written.

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luvfae · 17 days ago

Text

LOST IN TRANSLATION, PT 2

summary: you were meant to see palaces and eat street food in korea, but instead you got addicted to a local man who fucks you like a sin and holds you like a secret.

parings: thanos x foreigner reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol, weed, smut, choking, creampie, fingering, slight language barrier, romanised korean

< part one | part three >

You're on a tour bus.

A fucking tour bus.

It's hot, crowded, and the guide is cheerfully pointing at some historical palace while your friend is elbow-deep in a convenience store snack haul next to you. You should be into it. This is why you came to Korea, right? Culture. Memories. Adventure.

Instead, all you can think about is his mouth on your throat.

Your thighs are pressed together. Not because you're cold — it's 25 degrees and humid — but because the seat vibrates just enough to remind you what you're missing.

And you are missing it. God, you're missing it.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

One night. A hot, reckless mistake.

You weren't supposed to think about him every time you close your eyes.

But you do.

You think about how he tasted. How his voice dipped when he called you yeppo.

How he fucked you like he was mad at time itself.

How you came so hard your knees gave out after.

Your phone's in your hand before you even realize it.

You open Instagram. Find his DM.

He hasn't messaged you. You haven't messaged him. Not once.

Because you both assumed it was a one-time thing.

You both acted cool the next morning.

But now?

Now you feel like you're going to lose your mind if you don't get your hands on him again.

So you type:

you home? bc i'm not doing this tourist shit anymore, i'm thinking about your hands and it's annoying. fix it

You hit send before you can regret it.

You stare at the screen.

One minute.

Two.

Three.

And then the little typing... bubble pops up.

where are you

You bite your lip.

somewhere in insadong. kill me.

Another pause.

Then:

come here door's open. if you're fast, i'll fuck the attitude out of you.

You're already standing up.

Your friend blinks up at you mid-crunch, a shrimp chip half-hanging from her mouth. "Where are you going?"

You don't even try to play it cool. Your phone's still in your hand, your pulse already spiking. You say it like a confession. Like a sin.

"To get fucked."

She chokes on her chip. "Excuse me?"

You glance out the window, squinting like you might spot a cab just by willpower alone. "I'm serious. I can't do this right now. I don't care about some 14th-century scroll or—whatever. I need him."

Her jaw drops. "Oh my God. You mean the club guy?"

You nod once.

She breaks into a grin so smug you almost turn around and throw her snack bag out the window.

"You little slut," she says, delighted. "This is your first holiday romance."

You whip your head around. "It's not a romance."

She fake gasps. "Right. Sorry. My mistake. Just casual, totally impersonal, post-tourism cultural exchange dick."

You shoot her a glare. "There's nothing romantic about the way he fucked me last time."

She wiggles her eyebrows. "Exactly. That's what makes it romantic."

You groan, dragging a hand through your hair. "I hate you."

"You love me," she sing-songs. "And I love this for you. You really are experiencing all of Korea, huh? Palaces, hanbok selfies, spicy noodles, and now a hot local rearranging your guts."

You flip her off with both hands.

She cackles. "Go get wrecked, bitch. I'll tell the tour guide you got food poisoning."

You're already on your phone again, pulling up the taxi app.

Your legs bounce as you wait for a driver. It can't come fast enough. Every minute feels like a test of your self-control, and right now? You have none.

The second that cab pulls up, you're gone.

You don't even look back.

You've got one destination.

One objective.

And if Su-bong still has his door open?

You're not leaving until your legs stop working.

You're breathless by the time you reach his door.

Not from the stairs. Not really.

From anticipation. From heat crawling up your neck. From the buzz of your phone screen still echoing in your mind.

door's open. if you're fast, i'll fuck the attitude out of you.

You knock anyway.

Three short raps. Not shy, but not cocky either. Like you're daring him to make this real again.

The door swings open almost immediately.

And there he is.

Su-bong.

Leaning one shoulder against the frame, shirtless, wearing a pair of black sweats that hang just low enough to wreck your concentration. Hair messy. A faint sheen of sweat at his collarbone, like he was already pacing before you got here.

His eyes drag over you slowly — from your flushed face to your bare legs — then back up.

And that smirk appears. Lazy. Confident. Fucking lethal.

"You ran here?" he says, voice low and teasing. "So... desperate."

You roll your eyes, stepping past him without waiting for an invitation. "I was already nearby. Don't flatter yourself."

He lets you pass — but not without his fingers brushing the small of your back as you do.

"Ahh," he murmurs behind you, shutting the door. "Yes. Okay. No flattering."

A pause.

Then — quieter, smug —

"But you came for me."

You spin on your heel, raising a brow. "Don't act like you didn't like that."

His grin widens. "I like everything. You. The way you look at me. The little skirt. The..." — he gestures vaguely, searching — "face you make when I touch you."

You snort. "You're terrible at compliments."

"I'm amazing at compliments." He corrects, pointing at himself. "My English—ehh..." — he wobbles his hand — "so-so. But my eyes?" He taps his temple, then lowers his voice, "my eyes say... fuck yes."

You laugh despite yourself. "Jesus Christ."

He shrugs. Steps closer. "Not Jesus. Just Su-bong."

You shake your head, biting back a grin. "You're ridiculous."

"Mm. What is... ridiculous?" he repeats slowly, the word heavy in his mouth.

You wave your hand. "You. Your ego. The fact that you think I came here just for your dick."

He raises a brow. "No?"

You hesitate. Then shrug. "...Okay. Yeah. I did."

"Ah-ha." His smile turns devilish. "So honest today. Honesty is sexy."

He's standing right in front of you now. Close, but not touching. His eyes flick to your mouth, then your collarbone, then back up.

"Three days," he murmurs. "No message. I thought you disappear."

You arch a brow. "You didn't message me either."

He nods once. "Because if you want it, you come back." His gaze sharpens. "You are the kind of girl who decides."

You blink. Caught off guard. "That a compliment or a read?"

He shrugs again. "Yes."

That makes you laugh.

He watches you — pleased — then speaks in Korean, smooth and fast, something that sounds like a string of soft consonants and rolled vowels.

You stare at him. "What?"

He chuckles. Repeats it — slower this time.

Still nothing.

You throw your hands up. "I have no idea what you just said."

He leans closer. "Then just say 'ne.'"

"Ne?"

He grins. "Good. Now you agree to everything."

You narrow your eyes. "You're dangerous."

He nods solemnly. "Ne."

The silence stretches for a beat — thick with everything unspoken. Everything you came back for.

You break it first. Quiet, honest. "You thought I wasn't coming back?"

He lifts one shoulder. "Not many people come back. Not for me."

You tilt your head. "Why not?"

He considers. "Maybe I fuck too good."

You snort. "Oh my god."

He laughs, then gestures to the couch. "Sit. Talk. Or do you want me to take your clothes off now?"

You smirk. "That eager?"

He taps his temple again. "Not just a fuck. I like... your voice. Even when I don't know your words."

You sit slowly, eyes still on his, heart racing with something that's not just lust.

And for now?

You let the tension sit between you.

Coiled.

Breathing.

Hungry.

You lean back on the couch, eyes dragging over his bare chest — the way his muscles shift when he moves, the tattoos that disappear beneath the waistband of his sweats, the lazy, dangerous way he watches you like he already knows you're about to break.

You don't try to hide your stare. You let your gaze trail down his torso, slow and obvious, then back up to his face.

He smirks, pleased.

Then — without warning — he leans forward and hooks a finger in the neckline of your crop top, tugging it down in one smooth motion.

Your breath catches.

Your chest bounces free. No bra. No warning. You gasp, eyes wide, heart hammering.

He grins like a wolf.

"No bra?" he laughs. "Crazy girl."

His eyes linger for a moment, greedy but amused, then flick back to your face.

"What?" he shrugs. "You can see me shirtless but I can't see you shirtless?"

You arch a brow, sliding closer — slowly, intentionally — your thighs brushing his.

"Mmm," you hum, tilting your head. "It's not the same."

He narrows his eyes, playing along. "How?"

You lean in, voice dropping just enough to make him tense. "You shirtless is a threat." You drag your nails lightly down his chest. "Me shirtless?" Your fingers dip lower, teasing the waistband of his sweats. "That's a promise."

His lips part — like he wants to say something cocky, something smug — but nothing comes out.

Instead, he just watches as you reach back and tug your shirt off fully, letting it drop behind the couch. The air hits your skin, your nipples already stiff from anticipation, and his eyes go dark.

You straddle one of his thighs now, close enough to feel the heat of him, your hands resting lightly on his chest.

"You know what I was thinking about," you murmur, voice thick, "on that boring-ass tour today?"

He swallows, eyes locked on your mouth. "Tell me."

You graze your nails down his stomach, slow and teasing.

"You. Your hands. Your mouth." Your fingers curl into his waistband. "The way you didn't even let me finish catching my breath last time before you had me coming again."

He exhales hard through his nose.

You press your body closer, your lips brushing his ear as you whisper, "I want you to fuck me on this couch. I want your dick inside me so deep I forget my own name. I want you to make me beg in English, in Korean — I don't care. Just... make me say something."

He growls — low, rough — and grips your hips. "Jesus."

"Still not Jesus," you tease against his jaw. "Still just Su-bong."

That makes him laugh — hoarse and wrecked — and before you can say another word, his hand is on the back of your neck, pulling you in.

He kisses you.

Hard.

No warm-up. No hesitation.

His mouth crashes into yours like it's necessary — like he's been starving for the taste of you. Your hands tangle in his hair immediately, your body pressing against his bare chest, and he groans into your mouth, deep and low.

Your thighs tighten around his leg as he shifts, pulling you flush against him, his hands sliding down your back to your ass, gripping like he can't decide whether to lift you or pin you down.

You bite his bottom lip — just enough to make him gasp — and he retaliates by sucking on your tongue like he owns it. The kiss turns filthy fast, spit-slick and breathless, your hips rolling without even realizing it.

His hands are everywhere. Palming your tits. Thumbs brushing your nipples until they ache. One hand dipping between your thighs to press against your panties, groaning when he feels how soaked you already are.

"Fuck," he mutters, his accent thicker now, voice rough. "Already so wet?"

You moan into his mouth. "Told you I've been thinking about you."

He pulls back just enough to look at you — lips swollen, eyes dark.

Then switches to Korean, something low and sinful that you can't understand.

You blink. "What?"

He smirks. "I said..." He leans in, lips brushing your neck. "You drive me fucking crazy."

You grind against his hand, head falling back. "Good."

And then he's kissing you again — deeper this time, slower. His fingers push aside your panties and slide between your folds, slick and hot, and he groans at the feel of you. One finger, then two — curling just right, just enough to make you gasp and clutch his shoulders.

You rock against him, messy and desperate, moaning into his mouth as his fingers work you open, his thumb circling your clit with maddening control.

"You feel this?" he whispers. "My fingers..." He pumps them deeper. "Soon, my cock. Right here. On this couch."

You're panting now, lips swollen from his, hips rolling shamelessly into his hand. "Su-bong—"

"Say it again." He kisses your throat. "Say my name like that again."

You do.

Between gasps, between kisses, between the moans he pulls out of you with every filthy touch.

His couch creaks beneath you, the air thick with sweat and breath and everything you swore this wasn't supposed to be.

And neither of you gives a damn.

You've soaked through your panties, your chest bare, his fingers inside you and his mouth wrecking your throat in slow, filthy kisses. You can't stop moaning, can't stop moving — your hips rocking against his hand like you're trying to climb out of your own skin.

And then it's too much.

You want more.

Not fingers. Not teasing.

Him.

Your hand slips between you — grabbing the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down hard enough that he grunts.

He lifts his hips, helps you, lets you strip them down just enough to free his cock — thick, flushed, heavy against his stomach.

Your breath stutters.

"Fuck, look at that," you whisper, wrapping your hand around him, giving him a single stroke just to feel the weight of it. "So hard. Did I do that?"

He groans, head tipping back.

"Yes, you," he mutters, accent deepening with every breath. "You're—shibal—you're evil."

You press your forehead to his, grinning, wild. "No, baby. I'm starving."

And then you're lining him up — no hesitation — sinking down onto him in one slow, devastating motion.

"Shit—" you gasp, nails digging into his shoulders. "Fuck, I missed this. Missed how full you made me."

He hisses through his teeth, hands gripping your hips like a vice.

"You're insane," he growls. "Three days and you come back like this?"

You roll your hips, slow and filthy. "You think I could do that tour shit knowing this cock exists? You think I gave a fuck about palaces?"

He groans, watching your tits bounce as you start to ride him — hard, fast, no patience. Every sound you make is high and desperate and ruined.

"Crazy girl," he mutters. "So needy. So fucking wet. You want me to break you?"

"Do it," you pant, nails dragging down his chest. "Choke me. Fuck me. Spit in my mouth. I want everything. I want to feel it tomorrow."

His hand flies to your throat in one swift movement — not tight yet, just enough to make you still.

"You're sick," he whispers.

You lick your lips. "So make me worse."

His grip tightens. Your breath stutters.

You fucking love it.

He pulls you in for a kiss — tongue deep, filthy, biting your bottom lip until you whimper — then pulls back just enough to stare at you.

"Say you're mine," he growls.

"I'm yours," you gasp, hips still working.

"Say you're my good girl."

"I'm your good girl—fuck—Su-bong, please—"

"Say it again."

"I'm your good girl. I'm your good little slut, please—"

His eyes darken.

Then he's grabbing your ass, guiding your thrusts, his hips bucking up into you now — fucking up into you so hard you bounce. His hand finds your throat again, tighter now.

"You're perfect," he growls. "So dirty. You were made for this."

"Tell me you'll come inside me," you whine. "Please. Please, Su-bong— I need it, I want to feel it leaking out of me—mark me—please—"

He groans, visibly hesitating. "I shouldn't—"

"Do it. Ruin me. I'll come so fucking hard if you do—please, fill me up like you own me—"

He snaps.

His thrusts go brutal — deep, fast, punishing. He's growling in Korean now, things you can't understand but feel, one hand choking you, the other gripping your thigh so hard it might bruise.

And then he lets go of your throat just long enough to pull you down and kiss you — messy, gasping, all teeth — as he spills inside you.

You moan loud into his mouth, your whole body locking up as you come with him, your pussy milking him so tight he groans again, head falling to your shoulder.

You both go still.

Shaking.

Breathing hard.

Bodies glued together with sweat and cum.

You think it's over.

He definitely does.

He leans back, brushing his thumb over your cheek, his breath finally slowing.

"You're..." he starts. "Fucking dangerous."

You kiss him again — soft this time. Sweet.

And then?

You start moving.

Rocking your hips again, slow and tight, still full of him.

He blinks. "Wait—what are you—?"

You whimper. "Again."

He groans. "Jagiya, I don't—fuck—I don't know if I can—"

You roll your hips harder, clenching around him, kissing his jaw. "You can. You will. I need you again. I want to feel you break me this time. Please, Su-bong—don't stop—"

He exhales like he's in pain.

Then grips your waist again.

"Fuck it," he mutters. "One more."

And he gives you everything.

Again.

—

You didn't leave.

Not right after.

You ended up tangled in Su-bong's sheets, bruised and boneless, your thighs aching, your lips swollen, your body still clenching around the ghost of him. You fell asleep with his hand on your hip and woke up that same afternoon to the lazy weight of his arm still draped over you like he hadn't meant to fall asleep there either — but didn't regret it.

Now?

You're walking next to him in a back alley that smells like meat and oil, the sun too bright, your body still buzzing. You're wearing one of his shirts — oversized, sleeves rolled — and he's in a black tee, slouched into it like he owns the whole city and you're just tagging along.

Which, to be fair, you are.

He's leading you somewhere.

You don't ask where.

It's not a date — no one said the word — but you're both acting like it is.

Eventually he stops at a street cart wedged between two storefronts, the kind with plastic stools and an auntie already stirring sauce in a bubbling pot. He talks to her in quick Korean, hands moving with it, and you catch none of it.

She hands him two steaming paper bowls of tteokbokki. He passes you one. "Eat. Don't cry."

You eye it. "You think I can't handle spice?"

He smirks. "Most tourists die."

You take a bite. Immediately regret everything.

"Jesus—" you wheeze, coughing as your eyes water.

He laughs. Hard. "Ya! I told you! Ganjang yes, gochu-noona no!"

You glare. "What does that even mean?"

He grins. "Don't worry. Language lesson starts now."

You fan your mouth, tears threatening to spill. "What, so you can mock my pronunciation like a dickhead?"

He just smirks harder. "Say thank you. For food. For me. Ready?"

You groan. "If I survive this."

He taps the table, slow and deliberate. "Gam. Sa. Ham. Ni. Da."

You blink. "Gahm... sa... ham... knee... dah?"

He winces. "Oof. That was murder."

You narrow your eyes. "Say that again."

He leans closer, smug as hell. "Gamsahamnida."

Slower now: "Gam. Sa. Ham. Ni. Da."

You try again, biting the syllables out like you're chewing them. "Gamsa... hamnida?"

He nods, pleased. "Not bad. Cute."

You tilt your head. "That a real compliment, or more of your bullshit?"

He shrugs. "Little bit of both."

Then he mutters under his breath, "Jinjja, neomu gwiyopda..."

You squint. "What does that mean?"

He smirks. "Maybe nice. Maybe dirty. Maybe insult. You'll never know."

You gasp. "Excuse me?"

"You don't know Korean," he teases. "I could say anything."

You lean in closer, voice low. "You keep teasing me like that and I'll drag you into that alley and prove I'm not too tired to ride you again."

He freezes. Blinks at you.

Then groans, dragging a hand over his face like he's praying for strength. "Shibal... don't say things like that in public."

You grin. "Why? Gonna get hard in front of the tteokbokki lady?"

He huffs a laugh and tosses a piece of rice cake at your bowl.

You catch it with your chopsticks. Smug. Victorious.

The breeze picks up, and your thigh brushes his under the tiny table. His eyes flick to the contact but he doesn't move away.

He leans back, staring at you like he's trying to figure you out — and failing.

"You're different," he mutters. "Not just sexy. Something else."

You tilt your head. "Something good?"

He pauses, then nods once. "Yeah. Gamsahamnida."

You laugh. "For what?"

He doesn't answer.

Just looks at you.

And eats like he didn't just say something kind of fucking real.

You stare at him for a second longer than you should.

Not because he looks good — though he does, with sauce on his thumb and sweat curling at his temples and that silver chain glinting at his collarbone.

But because that line — that "something else" — hit you harder than expected.

You're still chewing it over when he speaks again. Casual. Low. Like he's talking about the weather. "Stay over tonight?"

Your chopsticks pause halfway to your mouth. "My friend—"

"Gets to see you every day." He doesn't even look up as he says it. Just picks up another piece of rice cake and pops it in his mouth. "Me?" He shrugs. "Only three more days."

He says it like it's the obvious choice.

Like staying over is the only thing that makes sense.

Like it's already been decided.

You swallow. Hard. That number echoing in your chest.

Three.

And somehow, it already feels like not enough.

You don't answer Su-bong right away.

Instead, you pull out your phone and call your friend — the one who's been more than patient, the one who covered for you, teased you, practically pushed you off the tour bus.

She answers on the second ring, breathless and probably mid-shopping spree. "You're alive."

You roll your eyes, even though you're smiling. "Barely."

You glance at Su-bong, who's sipping from a water bottle now like he didn't just emotionally blackmail you into staying over. You lower your voice.

"Hey, uh. So... he asked me to stay the night."

"Obviously."

"Are you mad?" You hesitate. "You sure you're okay with that? I don't wanna ditch you—"

"Babe," she cuts in. "You're being dicked down by the hottest man in Seoul. Live your dream. Just don't forget I exist."

You exhale. Relief and something warmer curling in your stomach. "You're really not mad?"

"Mad? I'm living for this. But." Her voice sharpens — mock-serious. "One condition."

You wince. "I knew that was coming."

"He has to take us somewhere tonight. Somewhere local. No tourist traps. I want the real Korean experience. Party style."

You glance at Su-bong again.

He raises a brow.

You cover the mic. "My friend says if I stay over, you have to take us somewhere tonight. A real Korean party. Not tourist shit."

He grins immediately. "Easy." Pulls out his phone like it's already handled. "I know place."

You mouth, "Where?"

He's already scrolling through his contacts. "Nam-gyu's house. My friend." Beat. "He throws parties. Loud ones."

You raise a brow. "Like, music and drinks or...?"

"Yes. Food, games, music. Se-mi, Gyeong-su, Min-su will be there." He looks up from his phone. "You'll see. It's not club. It's... better."

You pull the phone back to your ear. "He's calling one of his friends now. House party. Locals only. You in?"

There's a beat of silence, then your friend practically shrieks, "fuck yes I'm in."

You grin.

Su-bong's already got the phone to his ear, speaking rapid Korean — casual, animated, confident. You can't understand a word, but the tone is easy. Familiar.

He glances over at you mid-call, expression warm.

And you realize...

He's not just including you.

He's folding you into his life, piece by piece.

And you don't know what that means yet.

But for tonight?

It means one thing.

You're staying.

—

The apartment is already alive when you arrive.

It's tucked on the top floor of an older building near Hapjeong, the hallway narrow, the stairwell painted in peeling beige. But the second Nam-gyu's door swings open, it's like stepping into another world.

Warm lights. Music pulsing low from someone's Bluetooth speaker. The smell of fried chicken and alcohol already thick in the air. Shoes scattered at the entrance. A couch that's clearly seen too many bodies. Someone's jacket draped over a plant. A stack of soju bottles on the table like decoration.

The second you and your friend step in behind Su-bong, heads turn.

Everyone's already buzzing — loose-limbed, flushed cheeks, laughter bleeding from every corner. The music dips just low enough for voices to cut through.

"Yaaaa, Su-bong-ah!" a voice calls from the kitchen.

A guy with a snapback and an unbuttoned shirt jogs over — tall, lean, grin already in place.

"This him?" your friend whispers.

You nod. "Nam-gyu i'm assuming."

He greets Su-bong with a one-armed hug and claps him hard on the back before turning to you and your friend.

"You must be the foreigners," Nam-gyu says with a thick accent, grinning wide. "Welcome to my house-slash-party-slash-chaos."

You laugh. "That's exactly what we were promised."

He bows slightly. "Nam-gyu. I speak English, good... well, good enough to get you drunk, bad enough to never say sorry."

"That's perfect," your friend chirps. "That's all we need."

Nam-gyu waves someone over. "Come, come — meet everyone."

From the kitchen, another guy appears with messy dark hair, dressed in a striped tee and cargo pants. He looks about five seconds out of military service and ten seconds into a buzz.

"Gyeong-su," Nam-gyu says, pointing.

"Hello," Gyeong-su says with a polite bow. "Nice... meet... you."

He looks like he used all his English in one go and immediately retreats with a red-faced smile.

Then a girl with black hair and perfect winged eyeliner steps out of the hallway, holding two soju bottles between her fingers like claws.

"Se-mi," she says before Nam-gyu can introduce her. "And yes, I speak English."

"Fluently?" your friend asks.

"Fluently enough to flirt with your friend," Se-mi smirks, eyeing you playfully before winking at Su-bong. "But I won't. Su-bong is scary."

Su-bong snorts. "You're scared of me but not Nam-gyu?"

Se-mi shrugs. "Nam-gyu buys me food."

Last to appear is a guy with a loose sweatshirt that reads "K-Drama Ruined My Life." He holds a bag of chips in one hand and a soju shot glass in the other.

"I'm Min-su," he grins.

You end up cross-legged on the floor with the others, a full circle formed around a pile of drinks. Your friend is already chatting animatedly with Se-mi and Min-su, while Su-bong sits beside you, thigh pressed to yours.

Nam-gyu claps his hands once. "Okay. First game — easy. Baskin Robbins sam-sib-il!"

You blink. "Isn't that an ice cream brand?"

"Also a game," Nam-gyu grins. "Here's how it works: You take turns counting from 1 to 31. On your turn, you can say one, two, or three numbers — but only up to 31. The person who lands on 31 has to take a shot."

"It's evil," Se-mi adds, pouring the soju. "There's strategy. Betrayal. Drama."

"And shots," Gyeong-su says solemnly.

You catch Su-bong's eye and smirk. "I'm screwed."

He shrugs. "Maybe. But cute when drunk."

The game starts.

"One," Se-mi begins, smirking.

"Two, three," your friend says confidently.

"Four," Min-su grins.

And around it goes.

The numbers fly fast. Everyone starts laughing when Nam-gyu and Su-bong try to sabotage each other by jumping numbers. Gyeong-su has no idea what's going on but yells numbers proudly anyway.

When the count hits the twenties, tension spikes. Every number feels like a death sentence.

You land on 27.

You hold up one finger. "Twenty-eight."

Su-bong next to you smirks. "Twenty-nine... thirty."

"Shibal..." Nam-gyu blinks. "Thirty-one!" Everyone bursts out laughing as Nam-gyu throws his head back with a groan and downs the shot. "You did this to me," he glares at Su-bong.

"You deserve it," Su-bong mutters back.

Nam-gyu wipes his mouth and turns to you.

Leans just a little too close.

His grin goes playful. "So. Foreigner. You got a name or should I just call you yeppeun geunyeo?"

You blink.

Su-bong doesn't.

His hand on your thigh tightens. His jaw flexes.

"Ya," he snaps. "Geumanhae."

Nam-gyu lifts his brows innocently. "Mwo? Joke-joke. She's hot."

That's when Su-bong really lets go — in Korean first, voice low and rough. "Ya, jinjja—geuman. Ije jeongmal—aniya. Nae yeoja, molla? Apeseo—geunyeo nae—"

He cuts himself off. Then glances at you.

And switches to English. "My foreigner. My girl."

The group goes quiet for a second — half amused, half unsure if a fight's about to happen.

But you?

You laugh.

Full, delighted, tipsy.

You look at him, still smiling, your hand finding his thigh now under the table.

"That's hot," you murmur, leaning into him. "You being all angry and growling in Korean. Getting possessive. It's so fucking hot."

Su-bong blinks, caught off guard.

Then his mouth curves. That slow, dangerous smirk. "You like that?"

"Uh-huh." You lean in closer. "Next time you wanna yell at someone for flirting with me, whisper it in my ear instead."

His eyes flash.

He says something under his breath in Korean again — quick and sharp — you don't ask what it means.

You don't need to.

Because the way he grabs the soju bottle and pours your glass again, hand brushing your thigh like it's second nature?

You already know.

Half an hour later, the party's deeper.

The music's louder. The soju's hitting harder. Your friend is dancing barefoot in the living room with Se-mi and Min-su, laughing so hard she almost knocks over a lamp. Gyeong-su is passed out against the wall, a peace sign still up in one limp hand. Nam-gyu is pretending he isn't watching the chaos unfold with pride.

And Su-bong?

He's been watching you for twenty straight minutes.

Not in a creepy way. Not even overtly.

Just... watching.

You've been sitting on the couch, sipping on a beer someone handed you, laughing too loud and tugging at the hem of his shirt — the one you're still wearing, oversized and falling off one shoulder.

And maybe it's the lighting. Or the weed. Or the way your lips are curved just slightly, like you're always about to say something filthy.

But whatever it is, he snaps.

"Yah," he mutters, tapping your thigh. "Come here."

You blink. "What?"

He doesn't repeat himself. Just grabs your hand, and the next second, you're straddling him on the couch, his hands firm on your waist like he was always going to put you here eventually.

Your knees sink into the cushions on either side of his thighs, your beer forgotten on the floor.

He leans back, one hand sliding around to your lower back. His other hand? Fishing something out of his pocket.

You raise a brow when you see it — a slim pre-roll and a cheap lighter. "Seriously?"

He shrugs. "Nam-gyu's stash. Said to share it."

You smirk. "And you're just such a generous guy."

"I am," he mutters, lighting it. "Very giving."

The smoke curls between you in the dim light.

He takes the first drag. Holds it. Exhales slow.

Then presses it to your lips, watching as you inhale, slow and cautious.

The burn slides down your throat — smooth, warm. He watches you like he wants to record the way your mouth curves around the joint, the way your eyes soften when the high settles.

"Feel it?" he asks, voice rough.

"Mmhm," you hum. "Feels nice."

He nods. Then—

"Why'd you come to Korea?"

You blink.

It's not flirtatious. Not shallow.

Just—genuine.

You lean back slightly, fingertips resting on his chest. "I don't know. Needed a break. Wanted something... not mine for a while."

He studies you. "Not yours?"

You shrug. "Home feels... small. Heavy. You ever get that?"

He's quiet for a moment. Then takes another hit, passes it to you again. "Every day."

You hold his gaze as you inhale. Exhale. Pass it back.

"You ever been in love?" he asks.

The question hits harder than the smoke.

You let out a soft laugh. "You're really asking that right now?"

He shrugs. "Just wondering."

You glance down at his chest, at the silver chain resting against his shirt.

"Once. A long time ago." You pause. "You?"

He tilts his head. Considers.

Then shakes it once, eyes still locked on yours. "Nah. Not yet."

Not yet.

You wonder what the hell that means, but you don't ask. You're too high. Too warm. Too tangled up in the way he's looking at you like he's trying to figure out your edges — like he's searching for something under the skin.

"You think about it?" he asks after a beat.

You blink. "Home?"

He nods.

You take the joint again. Inhale slow.

Then—

"Every minute." You meet his eyes. "And somehow... not at all."

He doesn't say anything right away. Just slides his hand up your back, fingers curling around the nape of your neck like he needs to anchor himself to something.

"You're not what I expected," he says finally.

You raise a brow. "What did you expect?"

"One night," he says honestly. "Tourist. Tipsy. Quick fuck. Forget your name in the morning."

You nod slowly. "That's fair."

He leans forward. Kisses you. Soft. Slow. Tongue barely brushing yours, lips warm and patient. The kind of kiss that says I want to remember this.

When he pulls back, his voice is a whisper against your mouth. "But you keep staying."

You press your forehead to his. "Maybe I'm not done yet."

The words hang between you like smoke.

Your hands resting against his chest, the smell of soju and weed in the air, the music still thumping faintly from the other room. You can hear your friend laughing with Se-mi again, someone shaking a bag of chips way too aggressively.

But here, on this couch, in his lap, everything else fades.

And then Su-bong says it.

Soft. Certain. Like it's obvious. Like it's easy.

"Extend your stay."

You pause.

Just for a second. Just long enough to feel it land somewhere deep in your chest.

You run your fingers absently along the edge of his shirt, biting the inside of your cheek before answering.

"I can't."

He doesn't speak, just watches you.

So you explain, voice low and honest.

"I've been traveling for two months. Around Asia. Korea's the last stop before I go back to real life."

A small smile, a shrug. "All my money's already gone. My job's waiting. I don't have the luxury of... disappearing here. Even if I wanted to."

He doesn't like that.

You see it on his face — in the way his brows pull together, in the way his lips twist into a pout that's more genuine than dramatic.

"Aish..." he mutters, exhaling hard. "Geureom eotteokhae..."

You blink. "What?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

"No, seriously. What'd you say?"

He just sighs, voice heavier now. "Geureom eotteokhae, jinjja..."

You smirk, fingers running along the collar of his shirt. "If you're gonna say something dramatic in Korean, at least help me understand."

He groans. You laugh. And then you shift in his lap, grinding just slightly — slow enough to make his jaw flex, his hands automatically tightening on your hips.

"Why don't we take my friend home..." You lean in, lips brushing his. "...and crash at my hotel tonight, hmm?"

Your voice drops, all heat now. "It's a two-bedroom. And she's a very heavy sleeper after alcohol."

He huffs a quiet laugh, lips curling. "You dangerous woman."

You kiss him. Just once. Firm. Confident.

"So?" You raise a brow. "Are we doing this, or what?"

He leans in, mouth grazing yours as he mutters, "try and stop me."

—

You're not even sure how you made it back.

The city is a blur — neon lights bleeding into pavement, car horns echoing like background noise to your tipsy, giddy laughter. Su-bong walks between you and your friend like some reluctant guardian angel, one arm curled securely around your waist, the other guiding your friend with the patience of a saint.

You and her are drunk, high, and useless.

She keeps singing part of a Blackpink chorus on loop, swaying into parked scooters. You keep mumbling about how good Su-bong smells and how unfair it is that his jaw looks like it could cut glass.

He doesn't say much.

Just keeps you both moving, steady and warm.

By the time you get to your hotel, your friend is half-asleep on her feet. Su-bong helps her into bed, tucks a blanket over her with surprising gentleness, and sighs as she starts snoring immediately.

You sway behind him in the doorway, eyes glazed, hair messy, shirt halfway off your shoulder.

"Well," you mumble, grinning, "she's done for."

He turns to look at you — and you swear you see the shift.

That slow melt from patient babysitter to something hotter, heavier, eyes flicking down your body like he already knows where this night ends.

You walk past him without a word, grab his hand, and pull him through the adjoining door into your room.

The second the door clicks shut, everything turns electric.

There's no finesse. No warm-up. Just hands yanking clothes, breathless kisses, mouths crashing together like you've been starving for each other all night — because you have.

You fall into the bed, Su-bong over you, both of you still laughing through the haze, drunk on everything: the party, the weed, each other.

Your shirt's gone. His pants are gone. His mouth is on yours like it belongs there.

"You smell like smoke," you whisper between kisses.

"You taste like beer," he murmurs, dragging his lips down your neck.

"You gonna fuck me or just make fun of me?"

"Both," he mutters. "Geurom... let's start now."

There's no foreplay. Just a mess of limbs and gasps and mouths.

He enters you in one slow, thick push — no teasing, no warning — and you both groan like it's a relief. Like finally, finally, you're exactly where you're supposed to be.

"Oh my god—" you gasp, eyes fluttering. "Su-bong, fuck—"

"Shh..." he soothes, kissing your jaw. "Shhh... neomu areumdawo... you feel so good, baby..."

He rocks into you, slow but deep, his chest pressing down against yours, one hand cradling your jaw, the other gripping your thigh. His thrusts aren't polished — they're messy, needy, soaked in sweat and urgency — but every one hits just right.

"You're so warm," he groans. "So wet already... god, I will miss this—"

You clutch at his back, legs wrapping around his hips as he drives into you again, again, again.

"Say something else," you whisper. "In Korean. I don't care what."

His breath catches.

Then he leans close, brushing his lips against your temple.

"Saranghae," he murmurs.

You smile, drunk and unaware, letting the word wash over you like music. "What's that mean?"

He just kisses you and keeps moving inside you like he wants to imprint himself under your skin.

His hips roll into you with slow, dragging thrusts, every inch stretching you open, making you feel like you're unraveling from the inside out. There's no rhythm anymore, not really — just this desperate push and pull, his body molded to yours, skin slick and flushed, breath tangled between kisses.

You cling to him, your legs locked around his waist, arms around his shoulders like you'll fall apart if you let go. His forehead is pressed to yours, his eyes half-lidded, voice rough and low and broken in your ear.

"You're perfect," he whispers. "Fuck... you're mine, jagiya. This pussy—" he groans, dragging himself deeper, "made for me, yeah?"

You nod, whimpering, so gone you can barely breathe. "Yes—fuck—yes, don't stop, please—"

He kisses you then — deep and messy, all tongue and heat, biting your lip between gasps.

"You feel so good, baby," he pants. "So fucking tight, so warm... I don't wanna leave. I wanna stay right here—inside you—just like this—"

Your nails dig into his back, your hips rolling up to meet him, chasing that edge, your body clenched around him so tight it's a miracle he's still holding on.

"Gonna come," you gasp. "Fuck, I'm so close—Su-bong, please—"

He doesn't answer. Just drives into you harder, deeper, groaning every time your walls flutter around him.

"Come for me, jagi," he whispers. "Let me feel you. Give it to me."

And you do — everything inside you coils tight and then snaps, white-hot, blinding. You cry out, your whole body shaking as you clench around him, gripping him like you're trying to pull him even deeper.

"Oh my god— fuck—" you gasp, voice breaking, stars exploding behind your eyes.

"Geurae, geurae—" His hips stutter, and then— "Shibal—"

He buries himself to the hilt and comes, his entire body tensing as he spills inside you, hot and deep, hands gripping your waist like he's anchoring himself to this moment.

He moans into your neck, voice ragged and low, "jugeul geot gata... saranghae..."

You don't understand the words.

But you understand the way he says them.

The way he holds you after, lips brushing your cheek, hand sliding into your hair. Still buried inside you, still panting like he's never coming back down.

And neither of you says anything for a long time.

Because right now?

Words don't mean nearly as much as this.

Eventually, you both slow. Your limbs tangle. The sweat cools. Your breath returns.

He doesn't pull away.

Just lays there on top of you, face tucked into your neck, hand still cradling your jaw like he's afraid to let go.

You run your fingers through his hair, soft and slow.

"You okay?" he murmurs.

"Perfect," you say. And you mean it.

He kisses your cheek. Then your collarbone. Then your shoulder. Just little things. Little touches that say stay.

He helps clean you up gently — wipes between your legs with a warm towel he grabs from the bathroom, kisses your thighs afterward like an apology. Pulls the blanket up over both of you.

You're curled into his chest when it happens.

Suddenly. Quietly.

You start to cry.

Not a breakdown. Not dramatic.

Just silent tears leaking from your eyes as your fingers grip his shirt.

"Hey—hey," he says softly, pulling back to look at you. "Why cry?"

You sniff. Wipe your cheek.

"I don't want to go home," you whisper. "I want to stay with you... just a little longer."

His face softens. He cups your cheek, thumb brushing another tear away.

"Don't cry, jagiya," he murmurs. "We will meet again, hmm?"

You don't know if it's true.

But you let yourself believe it — just for tonight.

And fall asleep in his arms, still warm from his body, his breath steady in your hair, wrapped in a feeling you're too scared to name.

#thanos #choi su bong #squid game #thanos x reader #choi su bong x reader #thanos smut #choi su bong smut #subong smut #subong x reader

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catboybiologist · 4 months ago

Text

Hey it's a life update that probably no one cared about or asked for

tl;dr: I'm likely quitting my PhD via mastering out, and leaving my program in June.

sappy, overly emotional vent/explanation:

I'm wrapping up my first quarter as an out-of-the-closet trans woman. I've had some serious conversations about where me and my work stand. This was always my intention after coming back from my summer hiatus/social transition: see how "reentry" works, and then assess from there.

For those that don't know, PhDs in the US take 5-7 years. Oftentimes, however, they either give you a master's along the way, or give you an option to quit halfway through with a master's. I'm in my 3rd year and have more than enough to use that option. I've toyed with this idea before, but it feels a bit different now. Last year, I was burned out from science, my project was failing, and I was under constant stress of boymoding and remaining in the closet. Now, I'm out and proud, and I deeply love my project and find it exciting. I fixed some things.

Unfortunately, I have a recurrent problem. Whenever something goes wrong in my life, the first thing to drop off is my ability to drive forward my own thesis project in a coherent way. What the actual problems are vary, but that motif stays the same. I could list off what's going on right now, but I think y'all can assume a bit of what a mid-20s, broke, recently transitioned trans woman in the US is going through at the moment. There's a lot of specifics, of course, but I'm not at liberty to say most of it.

So I'm looking around and realizing I have scraps of half finished projects, I've given support and help for other people's projects.... and then made little progress on my actual thesis. It's enough to pull together into a master's thesis, and maybe even another paper or two, but.... not a PhD.

And then there's the other side of it. The nicer reasons. Could I stay here, buckle down, maybe add years to my degree, and get through it? Probably. But honestly? I don't really want to put myself through that now. It used to be that academics was all I had. It was all my failures and all my successes. It's what I threw myself at, because I genuinely had nothing else going on. Since transitioning, the world seems so much more beautiful and rich, so much more complex and vast, with so much more to do in it. I've even had more negative experiences unrelated to academia, and while they've sucked, they've shown me that life is so much bigger than it was before.

To be blunt, to experience more of my life... it helps to have money, and it helps to have career stability. It's not the only factor by far, but certainly one defining moment when making this decision was trying to create a timeline and budget for transition related surgeries, and realizing that its near impossible in grad school.

Not to be dramatic, but I've also had a couple extremely jarring experiences in the past year that are reminded me that life is short. And I want at least some time to enjoy it.

My heart is honestly broken here, and I'm feeling extremely emotional about this. I love my lab, my colleagues, the environment of doing research, and my project. But I'm realizing that it might not be viable, or what makes me the happiest at the moment. I'm genuinely a bit distraught, and I've been crying a lot for the past few days. A lot of me feels like this is what I am, and this is what I'm good for. That I'm failing myself and every mentor that got me here. Some part of me knows that isn't true, some part of me can't let go of those feelings.

But, I know this doesn't mean "never". So many of the people in my program are significantly older than me, coming back later in life to get their degrees. I'm honestly almost positive that I'll come back to a PhD someday if I quit now. In my 30s or beyond, I think that I'll be able equipped to handle it much better.

So what's next?

Obviously, nothing is decided, and I'm just spitballing here. But I'm honestly shocked at how many viable options I have, in a very good way. A cursory scroll of Indeed was honestly therapeutic. As I said, I still love the academic research environment. I just need more money and stability, and would prefer to have a slightly different relationship to the work I do than a thesis project. Ideally, I would want to be a staff researcher in an institute or academic lab. That lets me keep a lot of the things I like about what I do now, while also making literally 2-3 times the money and having a more stable position.There's positions out there that maximize the contexts I'm the strongest and happiest with, while still being more steady and paying more. Hell, even if my responsibilities were identical, but I had more pay, I could probably more effectively address the personal problems I'm going through right now. I'm gonna stay in California for a lot of reasons, and I'm lucky that there's so many options within the state.

I have a bit of an oddball set of experience. I'll actually have two nonoverlapping master's if I do this. I already have a MS in bioinformatics, which was granted by a CS department. But my current program is in more "pure" molecular and cell biology. I'll have 5 years of grad school, 8.5 years of research experience if I include undergrad research, and instead of a PhD, 2 MSs. Which is kinda funny. But it think it helps represent my experience for what it is. I like to consider myself a "full stack" bioinformaticist- someone who can do both the experimental and analysis portions of experiments that produce large data. Hopefully I'll be able to put that to good use.

I have a lot of professional contacts that I'll slowly be reaching out to over the course of the next 6 months while I tie things up. I know this is a wildshot on tumblr of all places, but if anyone has any recommendations, advice, or contacts, I'm all ears- both for professional and job hunt related things, and also the emotional state I'm in right now.

Thank you to everyone that's made up this wonderful community we have online. I hope I'm not letting anyone down. I'll still be a biologist, I'll still be my trans self. I just won't be "Doctor" anytime soon.

#biology #academia #phd #vent

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mind-intheclouds342 · 5 months ago

Text

A new ladder - Reader x Curly

Previous - Part 5 - Next

"This looks like a funeral home!"

You said, clapping, alarming Curly who had barely woken up about ten minutes ago.

You started to open the curtains to let some light in and turned on the television, looking for a channel that plays music instead of news.

You smiled when you found one with music you like and were ready to go prepare breakfast, but you almost fell from the shock when you saw Curly.

"Hey-!... You got up on your own..." you mentioned, holding your chest.

Curly: "Ah... Yes, I made coffee but... I couldn't serve it, it's still in the coffee maker... Do you do that every day?"

"...You have a very, very deep sleep, in case you didn't know..."

You kept staring at him, not taking your eyes off him as you slowly walked to grab the coffee pot to pour the coffee into two cups.

Curly: "What do you want to do today?"

You raised an eyebrow as you thought of a response.

"There's an amusement park in the city, how does that sound?"

Curly: "Sounds good" he nodded.

You gave him a smile and pushed him a little, making him lose his balance and have to hold onto the table to avoid falling.

"Impossible, you're going to fall apart if we go there. We need to practice your walking and how to use your new limbs."

Curly: "What do you recommend then?" he asked, finally standing up with some difficulty.

"Let's go for a jog!" She patted his back, ready to prepare something to add to breakfast.

After eating, they both changed into clothes, some for training.

Curly noticed how loose his clothes had become due to the loss of muscle.

"Later I can adjust it if you like, is it very uncomfortable for you?"

You approached him to check it.

Curly: "I'm worried that my pants will fall down."

"Look how easy that is to fix"

You went to get thread and a needle to make a hem on the waistband of the pants and you put a few stitches in the hem to make it snug.

"Done, I'll adjust it properly another day, now let's go, let's go"

First, you took a drive to a less busy area; you didn't want him to feel uncomfortable with the attention of people passing by on the road.

"It's great that you can stand up and walk, do you think it's okay to try climbing up to that sign?"

Curly: "Or course. I can do it"

"Oh, someone is enthusiastic?"

You laughed and got ready next to him to start jogging, he lagged behind for a few seconds but then took a few steps.

You quickly returned when you heard he had fallen to help him get back on his feet.

You repeated that action several times, but you got worried when he fell and his face hit the ground directly.

"Hey, maybe jogging was too ambitious, we can walk through the forest here."

He stood up with your help, head down, annoyed for not being able to do something he used to do every day a while ago.

"You didn't hurt yourself, did you? "Let me see"

You slowly removed the mask he was wearing to check it, and they were startled by the scream of a child, just as a mother with her child was passing by.

Curly immediately turned to the other side so the child wouldn't have to see it while the woman gestured apologetically, carrying her son and quickly leaving the place.

"They're gone now" you said, patting his shoulder.

Curly: "I know... That i must look really bad... "

"Hey, don't think too much about it, come on, let's take a walk to clear your mind, okay?"

You took the sleeve of his jacket to pull him with you, delving into the forest and walking along the already marked path.

He stood there watching as you held onto his clothes, and saw the prosthesis, how crude it was in shape, being made only to be functional and not aesthetic.

I would like to hold her hand...

He thought while still focused on your hand, and you turned to look at him when his prosthetic touched your forearm, strangely it felt like a caress.

When he realized what he had done, he got nervous.

Curly: "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, no, no problem, I should have let you go. You must have felt really bad being pulled."

You said, smiling as you let go of his clothes, but that made him even more depressed.

You continued walking until you felt a tug on your jacket, looking at the man in confusion.

Curly: "...I have better balance if I hold onto you"

"Mm? Do you think you can keep up with me?"

You smiled with a hint of mischief as you walked slowly at first, and with each step, you increased your speed, making Curly follow you at the same pace, without letting go of your jacket.

And within a few minutes, both were jogging in sync, your legs even moving in perfect harmony.

You ran the entire forest trail until you returned to the starting point, both laughing, very excited about Curly's rapid progress.

They took a break to drink some water and rest a bit, sitting on the hood of the car.

Curly: "I missed this..."

"Did you use to exercise a lot?"

Curly: "Yes, it was one of my hobbies, exercising, lifting weights, jogging, I had my own routine, it was nice."

"You were athletic too, mm, you sounded like the perfect man," you stretched before getting up.

He remained thinking about your words, sighing as he remembered that he would never be that man again.

Curly: "Yeah... someone cool, right?"

"Not for me. Routines aren't bad, but ugh they make me sick, perfect people, they seem like robots programmed to do the same thing until they die. Everything they do seems so good, they eat healthy, exercise, work, study, but it just ends up being a cycle because... they don't aspire to anything else, you know?"

You shrugged as you opened the door of your car.

"Because... what's the point of reaching the top if you're not going to keep climbing something higher?"

He felt that for a moment, his entire world had stopped; he could only hear the beating of his heart, and everything else was just silence.

He opened his mouth to say something, but only a sigh escaped, lost in your silhouette before him, who only hoped you would get in the car so you could go home together.

When you honked the horn, you brought him out of his trance.

"Are you going to get in or are you going to run to home?" you asked, smiling.

I knew well that you were capable of leaving it there, so he quickly climbed up next to your seat.

#mouthwash #mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #mouthwashing x reader #curly mouthwashing #captain curly #captain curly x reader #mouthwashing curly #curly x reader

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hwaslayer · 3 months ago

Text

wildfire (cs) | 11.5

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 0.8k

—chapter content/warnings: not much!! something a lil more tame lol, prob one of the 0.5s that takes place right after the chapter beforehand, i promise there is no ill intention behind what's happening here - they're both equally torn about everything as san's good friends/colleagues

namjoon: you got a minute to meet up today? sorry for the last minute request but it's kinda urgent.

jongho: sure. i'm wrapping up. can meet you in the next 15 mins?

namjoon: i'll come to you.

jongho: alright then, boss.

Jongho continues typing away at his desk, responding to all the emails that came in today while he was off doing interviews for the new open faculty role in the electrical engineering department. He makes a mental note to submit his review sheet for the first round of interviewees and to review the applications for the next round tomorrow. He doesn't realize how quick 15 minutes flies by until Namjoon is swinging his door open mid-email. He continues to type away, but his eyes shift to Namjoon's figure as he fixes his blazer and takes a seat with a loud sigh.

"Long day?" Jongho cracks a small smile, typing up the last few details before sending it off and shifting his attention to Namjoon in front of him.

"Kinda." He nods towards his computer. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt or delay you from leaving."

"All good. Didn't really have plans, anyway. What's up? You seem a little flustered."

"Well, catching Yunho, Iseul and San arguing in a conference room wasn't exactly on my agenda for today."

"What?" Jongho cocks his head back a bit in disbelief, brows tightly knitted together as he tries to make sense of what he just heard. San had been giving him a bit of the story here and there and knowing Iseul, he wasn't exactly surprised this is how things were playing out.

He's just not sure why Iseul thinks it's her business to air this all out.

"You tell me."

"As much as I would love to help, I honestly have no idea what's going on.”

"Jongho."

"What? You know how Iseul is. She somehow still thinks she has a grip on San even after they've divorced and gone through all of that. Can't stand her, if you ask me."

"You don't have to tell me twice. But, why? Why is this a thing right now?"

"Beats me." Jongho tries to brush it off even though he can see the look on Namjoon's face, his eyes trying to study him like a damn book. He hates being in the middle because as much as he loves and supports his bestfriend, he also has the utmost respect for Namjoon and knows the guy will always be on their side regardless.

"That's the first in a very long time that I've seen San react that way at the happy hour event."

"Okay, to be fair, the guy was getting super disrespectful. I think any of us would've reacted in one way or another."

"Right, I agree. But, I know there's a story behind it. I know his anger was fueled by something else." Jongho sees the way Namjoon is going about this. He's prying for the answers he already knows, but he needs the confirmation and Jongho can give him that.

It's just a matter of when.

"What if it was just a bad day?"

"Okay, you know what?" Joon leans onto the arm rest of the chair and gives him a look. "I'm just gonna go headfirst with it." Jongho cocks a brow up. "Is there something going on with San and his rotation student? Y/N specifically." He sighs.

"I figured."

"No, you knew." Namjoon chuckles a bit.

"I don't know. I really can't tell you because I don't know anything." Jongho says he knows nothing when he knows everything.

"Jongho." Joon repeats.

"Joon, swear." He says, even though he tries to sit as still as possible. Good thing Namjoon can't read his mind right now.

It started gradually before it took off completely. Jongho knows about the last minute meetings San has had to take, Jongho has seen the subtle glances, the subtle actions, the mood changes when you're around. Jongho remembers seeing you slip out of his hotel room very early that morning during the NAS conference. Jongho remembers seeing the polaroid slightly tip out of the wallet case mid-breakfast and seeing a tiny slip of your face in his peripherals. San quickly adjusted the polaroid and continued on like nothing, wishing for the best with that one.

And he doesn't have to be told to know you've been over multiple times. All the calls that have gone curt and short, the distraction easily laced in San's voice on the other line. He remembers the faint trace of your perfume in his home, the little post-it notes you've left on San's office desk.

Good thing Namjoon can't read his mind right now.

Cause, yes.

"I can hear your thoughts."

Well, shit.

"I don't know what to say."

"I need you to tell me yes or no, that's all. I need to make sure I'm going about this correctly even though I heard a lot today alone." Jongho sighs and sees how torn Namjoon is. They both are. They obviously want what's best for San, and they both want him to be happy. He is deserving of good, genuine love. He is deserving of genuine happiness because he always rides for the people he loves, goes the extra mile for them. He acknowledges and learns from his mistakes, he apologizes when he knows he's at fault.

He's deserving of all good.

So, they both hate that it has to come to this because it's not even you that's the problem. It's the situation, and they both don't know how to approach it with enough sensitivity and care.

Even though it's good to San, it doesn't necessarily mean it could be good for San.

"Yes."

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated

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stevie-petey · 8 months ago

Note

blurb idea? stug isn't having sex yet obviously but maybe dustin walks into bug's room while they're lying really close on her bed reading together and he flips his shit like OH MY EYES and they're like ...boy we're literally just sitting here. and steve's over for dinner and dustin refuses to look at him and claudia's like ok what's up and you're like literally nothing he's so dumb

i love dramatic dustin with stug so YES !!

enjoy <3

"so jo just rejects laurie? like, flat out, brutally rejects his marriage proposal after years of being best friends and basically already in love?"

"i mean, there are some nuances youre missing, but yeah. basically."

"what kind of sick book is this?" steve shoves the book away from him in disdain. his nose is scrunched up, offended, and you refrain from kissing it all better.

you fix a piece of hair thats fallen in his face as he lays next to you on your bed. "jo and laurie are tragic, i'll admit." your words are rough from reading for hours. steve always insists that you read the books for him, he claims youre better at it, but you know its because he loves the sound of your voice. "but its what makes the book so wonderful, dont you think?"

steve rolls his eyes at you. "your obsession with tragic romances concerns me. what, are you going to reject my proposal next? make me beg on my hands and knees for you?"

"technically you already did beg on your hands and knees for me-"

"wait, you didnt say youd accept my proposal."

with a sly laugh you clear your throat and bring the book back up to your face, continuing to read. steve stares at you as you read the heartbreaking words aloud, his eyes travel the length of your neck and the slope of your nose. the scene youre reading breaks his heart more than hed care to admit. youve been reading little women to steve for a few weeks now. he really thought itd be jo and laurie in the end.

lost in the way you voice lilts between jos soft rejection and lauries broken pleads, neither you nor steve hear dustin calling for you until its too late.

the boy barges into your room and nearly shrieks his head off when he realizes steve is in bed with you. "my eyes!" he cowers to close the door, covering his face with his grubby little hands.

"dustin!" you shout at him, throwing a pillow at him to shut up him. hes being dramatic, you and steve werent even doing anything. your boyfriend is lying next to you while you read him a long and horrendous breakup scene from a classic book. if anything, the two of you should be doing literally anything else.

steve rolls off your bed and lands on his feet in one fluid motion before running over to your brother. grabbing dustins shoulders, he shakes him to try and stop the screaming. "hey! alright, can you quit it?"

"no! you were-you-my eyes!" dustin scrubs at his face with utter turmoil. he hadnt even known that steve was in his house. normally the asshole makes his presence known, stops by dustins room to say hi. its why he barged in in the first place.

had dustin known hed walk into steve in your bed, he wouldve brought a goddamn flame thrower with him instead.

"we were reading, you moron!" youre next to steve now, desperately trying to quiet your brother before your mom asks whats going on. hes already bad enough, but if your mother finds out steve had been in your bed as well, thered be permanent hearing loss.

"read at your desk! thats what those damn things are built for!"

steve shoves his hand through his hair, agitated. "oh, and who are you? the desk police?"

"'desk police'?" you stare at the teen, disappointed. "thats the best you could come up with?"

"im under a lot of pressure right now. cut me some slack."

"i want you dead."

both you and steve turn to dustin, shocked and disturbed by his words.

"okay, thank you for sharing your feelings, dustin." awkwardly you pat his shoulder. at least hes being honest and open with you. "not necessarily what i wanted to hear, but im proud of you for sharing-"

"he wants me dead and youre commending him?"

"not now," jamming an elbow into steves side, you shut him up and focus on your brother again. "now, is there a reason you barged in or can we go back to reading?"

dustins grimace on his face seems permanent now. his nose is slightly upturned, his eyes distrusting. narrowing them at you, he takes slow, calculated steps back out of your room. "dinner is ready," he says tersely before leaving entirely.

"well, this will be fun." steve sighs, and you nod grimly.

dinner is not fun.

dustin doesnt look steve in the eye the entire time. he sits as far away as possible from the teen. when asked to pass the bread, dustin pointedly ignores steves request and throws a roll to you. the bread nearly knocks your mothers water over and shes finally had enough.

"goodness, dusty! what has gotten into you tonight?" she exclaims, settling the glass that threatens to spill.

mouth full of mashed potatoes, his eyes light up evilly. before he can even think about opening his obnoxious mouth, you kick him underneath the table. your foot connects with his shin and dustin wheezes mashed potatoes all over his meal.

"dusty!" your mother gasps, alarmed. she looks at you in concern while steve snorts into his glass of water. "what is going on with you three?"

"nothing, mom." grabbing the bread that was thrown at you, you pick it apart with your fingers and make a delighted sound. "dinner is lovely tonight, by the way."

"i love what youve done with the mashed potatoes, mrs. henderson." steve is quick to add, jumping in. he makes a whole show of scooping up the mashed food and shoving it into his mouth, moaning in pleasure. "is there garlic in this?"

your mother, always easily distracted, claps her hands with joy. "why, yes! i wanted to try something different. do you really like it?"

"i adore it."

later that night you find yurtle the turtles mealworms underneath your pillow.

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #ask #thaliagracesgf #m speaks #come home blurb #m's writing #set in between seasons 3 and 4 !#steve harrington blurb #dustin is so dramatic #hes me

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m-musings · 1 year ago

Text

Crawl Out Through the Fallout with Me: Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard X Fem! Reader

A/N: never played an official fallout game in my life but i still love this man so it's time to bullshit some stuff, let's gooooooo

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: After a fight with raiders, a argument between lovers ensues when one of them gets hurt.

Warnings: typical fallout vibes, mentions of fighting, blood and wounds, pre-established relationship, Cooper being Cooper but also being a bit ooc, this is cheesy as hell and def not canon compliant lmao

"Damnit, (Y/n), just what the hell were you thinkin'?!"

An upset voice rang out into the evening air of the Wasteland as a pair of figures rested up inside the crumbling walls of an abandoned building.

Lit by the fading light of the sun, (Y/n) hissed in pain as her irradiated companion tried to sew a sizable gunshot wound on her arm shut.

As he passed the needle back and forth through the gash, the girl rolled her eyes with an exasperated groan as a few rivulets of blood rolled down her arm.

"Gimme a break, Coop! Did you wanna be the one to be shot?! I don't- ow!- think so!"

During a journey to find their next cash-out, the partners were ambushed by a large group of raiders & fiends. After managing to get rid of most of them, one had managed to sneak up and send a bullet flying straight for Cooper.

Noticing the weapon before Cooper could even turn to see the shooter, (Y/n) dashed over and shoved the ghoul out of the path of the shot, causing her arm to be hit instead.

Now- a few hours after killing the remaining enemies- they took shelter in a decrepit shack in order to patch themselves up in peace and rest for the night.

"I'd still be better off than you are right now. I mean, for fucks sake, darlin', I'm a ghoul. I've been through worse than just being shot at."

"Well then, that's the last time I try to be helpful. Next time, I'll sit back and relax while you get absolutely slaughtered by raiders, how about that?!"

"Go right on ahead, see if I care! Now, hold still. Can't close this cut if you keep on squirmin' around." Cooper huffed as he gave the suture one final tug before snipping the end off with a pocket knife and tying it into a knot.

After he was finished, (Y/n) rolled the pain out of her bicep before reaching into her bag to grab a somewhat clean cloth to wipe up any remaining blood.

With a sputter of her lips, she got up from her spot next to Cooper to sit upon the old mattress in the other corner of the room in order to apply a stimpak to herself. It wouldn't be enough to heal the wound completely but it would be enough for her to be able to use her arm properly.

Satisfied with the sight of her flesh knitting back together, Cooper finally relaxed in his chair as he crossed one leg over the other.

"Now don't go doin' anything that stupid again, y' hear me? Don't wanna have to use any more stims than we have to."

"I just... don't understand why you're so worked up about this. Something like this was bound to happen eventually, it's literally a warzone out here. A scar or two isn't unusual." (Y/n) griped as she fell back onto the bed while crossing her arms.

"Yeah, for someone like me it isn't. But it shouldn't ever happen someone like you. You shouldn't have to get hurt like that..." Grumbled Cooper as he leaned back against the wall.

"I'm not made of glass, Coop, I can handle a few hits."

"Don't care. You're way too valuable for me to lose."

(Y/n)'s glare softened at that, realizing the true intention behind the cowboy's scolding was worry. As Cooper sets up a small lantern on the floor to combat the growing darkness, (Y/n) watches the man with a fondness gleaming in her eyes.

"Is that what this is all about? You didn't wanna see me get hurt?" Whispers the girl as she turns onto her side.

Although the action is rather subtle, the ghoul's body visibly tenses up as he fixes his gaze away from the woman across from him.

"I never said that."

"It's clear that you thought it, though." (Y/n) chuckled as she softly grinned at the cowboy.

Heaving out an irritated sigh, Cooper hunches over to look at her as he readjusts his hat.

"What do ya wanna hear from me, sweetheart? That I care about you? That I love ya? Well, if you don't know that by now, then you might be much dumber than I thought you were."

"Hey, I resent that! You'd be lost with me and you know it!"

"Sure I would. Just like how you'd do great out there if you were all alone."

(Y/n) shakes her head with a scoff before she gets up from the mattress to walk over plop herself onto Cooper's lap after he sits back down on the beat-up dinner chair.

As she shuffles into place, Cooper places his hand on the small of her back to ensure she doesn't topple over. He silently glances at her face, analyzing her now troubled expression as she fiddles with the lapel on his duster.

Mouth opening and closing as she tries to find the words to say, she presses her lips together before finally speaking her thoughts.

"Y'know, I worry about you too... I'm always so worried that there's gonna be a day where that one gunner you miss is gonna be the one that gets you." (Y/n) admits sadly as she rests her head on Cooper's shoulder.

Cooper's eyes widen slightly and peer down at her as he begins to rub a hand up and down her arm in an attempt to comfort her.

"Hey now, look at me. That'll never happen. Not on my watch."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I got too much to fight for. I already lost one family to this nonsense and I'll be damned if you get taken away from me too. I'll fight tooth and nail before I let anything touch me or you again, understand?"

"But why? What's so special about me?"

"If I allow you to get hurt anymore, I will never be able to live with myself again. I love you, so...so much, darlin'." Cooper states with a resolute nod.

(Y/n) eyes water and crinkle with a gentle smile before she leans up to place a couple light kisses upon his charred lips, which he returns immediately upon receiving.

"I love you too, Cooper..." Mutters (Y/n) as she closes her arm around his shoulders.

With a laugh rumbling in his chest, Cooper wraps both of his hands around her waist as he holds her as close as he can.

"Your sweetness is what's gonna be the death of me one of these days, doll... Not some dumbass bullet." Cooper jokes quietly, placing a kiss atop her hair & resting his head on hers as he rocks back and forth to lull her to sleep.

Listening to the calming sound of her breathing as she slumbers, Cooper thinks about how lucky a man like him is to have found a love like (Y/n) in such a desolate situation.

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard #fallout the series #fallout imagines #fanfic

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quitealotofsodapop · 3 months ago

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Lmk au idea.

Wukong isn't MK's teacher. At least, not in the same way he is in the show.

In this idea I had randomly pop into my head I'm thinking that Wukong had gone above and beyond simply vanishing for 500 years and hiding out on FFM. He straight up changed his identity and went into hiding as a mortal. He says fuck off to being a demon god, fuck off to all the gods and celestials and all his titles. He retires, fully and completely, passing his crown off to his Stalwarts and just becomes a wanderer traveling around, doing odd jobs and never staying in one place too long.

At some point over the centuries he ends up back in the village that he left his staff in, or rather, whay it became. A sprawling metropolis of a city that a person trying to disappear can easily do so. He set up shop, having had many hats over the years he's able to easily pick up a humble job nobody would blink twice at. Mechanics are always sorely needed in large cities after all.

One day at his shop a hauntingly familiar fave appears at his doorstep. Pigsy's truck had broken down while he was out with baby MK on a supply run and Wukong's shop had been the closest mechanic they could find. Wukong could sense something was special about MK, but not what or why and after he fixed up the truck he spent the next hour or so reminding himself that he is not Sun Wukong anymore, he is not part of that life anymore. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Wukong's mechanic work was something Pigsy liked, a lot. The truck was running smoother than if ever did before and the price was a steal! Wukong quickly became the favorite mechanic shop for Pigsy's Noodles and MK began to show up more often at the mechanic shop (he crashed a lot of stuff ok). Wukong ends up becoming the cool mechanic dude who helped teach MK how to mod his hoverboard and would often drop cryptic but helpful advice to the kid, Wukong having settled with the idea that he can look after the kid at least since it doesn't look like Zu Baijie's decendant or the kid were going to go away anytime soon. This led to meeting Tang and Mei, which were... experiences. And Wukong just ends up being a family friend to the Noodle Gang who likes cold vegetarian noodles.

Then a Hero is Born happens. Wukong hadn't been there for that experience. He was "on a supply run" when DBK was freed, he was in a different town entirely. So he wasnt physically present when MK became the Monkie Kid. It doesn't mean he wasn't completely uninvolved, though. Wukong isn't stupid, he knows DBK would eventually be freed, and he also knew it was possible someone else would pick up his staff. Afterall the staff had chosen him, not the other way around. It isn't unfeasable to imagine it'd pick another now that it's owner has put it down. Plus it isn't entirely impossible to imagine whoever it is would seek him out, he was the last known person to wield the Ruyi Jingu Bang after all.

He left a series of visions and astral projected recordings in his cave. The first being triggered should anyone breach his cave, the vision MK first sees when he enters Water Curtain Cave, only it doesn't stop at Wukong just running off. The projection speaks.

Wukong's recording. Looking as laid back and amused as can be: If you're seeing this, congrats! You got past my unstoppable barrier! Unfortunately I'm afraid that you won't be able to find me, as I would have been long gone from this place and am retired! So if your here for an autograph I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave.

MK: WHAT!?

Wukong's recording, becoming serious and almost sad: If you are a friend, however. I want to say I'm sorry, but please don't go seeking me out. I am hanging up my crown and title as the Great Sage and the Monkey King, and I don't not wish to be disturbed. Over the centuries I've come to realize my whole life I've done nothing but hurt the people I care about, so... for everyone's sake... I'm disappearing so that I can't hurt anyone again. Ever. And if you find my staff, I'm sorry I can't be there to help you. But I'll give you a piece of advice I learned, believe in yourself. Even just a smidge can make all the difference.

MK is gobsmacked at the thought that Sun Wukong had just up and left like that, that he's been gone for a long time and won't be able to help. He decides if Wukong wasn't there to be a hero anymore, he'd do it for him. Just a smidge makes a difference, right?

And so the Monkie Kid becomes the Monkie Kid. Over the next season or so he struggles a lot with his powers, not having a proper mentor. See, unlike the rest of the Noodle Gang, since Wukong wasn't physically present when MK became the town hero he isn't ever explicitly told it's MK. MK literally just forgets to mention it to him, but he does his best to help where he can. Giving advice where he can.

Most everything else was done without his input, altho MK did find it weird that the Calabash seemed to think his mechanic friend was the Monkey King. It's the first hint he ever has that Wukong was not as he seemed, but he write it off as him simply thinking of Wukong as a mentor figure since he's always been supportive and gave helpful advice and the Calabash substituting the Monkey King for Wukong.

Even the Macaque episode was done mostly without his input, altho a certain black furred monkey was not happy that his attempt to lure Wukong out didn't work at all. Wukong had been busy with renovations to expand the shop at the time, thus where the "step into the strike" advice came from since MK had been helping Wukong with tearing down the wall.

The big reveal about Wukong being the Monkey King only happens during Revenge of the Spider Queen, when Wukong has no choice but to step in as the Monkey King. And believe me, he is absolutely not happy about the matter. He doesn't run away once everything is done and over, but it's very clear that he is upset by the way he avoids everyone and jsut sits curled up on the rooftop. When asked why he never told them, especially knowing MK was using his staff, he first points out MK had never explicitly told him about the whole Monkie Kid business so he had no reason to "know" anything about it. Then he jsut points to the destroyed city.

Wukong: This is what happens everytime the Monkey King appears. Destruction, death, and chaos. I didn't want to be that anymore.

This spun off from a convo on how Wukong likely felt abandoned by his mentor(s), beginning with Subodhi, the allies he made in Heaven before the war, Guanyin, and even Tripitaka when the monk passed.

Wukong, going by just "Wu", drifting along the centuries living a mortal life. Packs up and leaves whenever conflict or war breaks out, or when people start to get suspicious.

His number one rule? Never get attached. Never again...

He becomes a mechanic (a real "grease monkey" if you will). Although he loves medicine and herbalism, it simply has too many paper trails. Also cars are fun to tinker with and don't talk back most of the time. Less likely to make a connection.

He eventually returns to the village where he lay his Staff down for good. Just seemed right coming up to the 500 year anniversary of one of his biggest regrets. The village has since become a sprawling mega-city, open to humans and demons alike. There he plants his roots.

The biggest shock of his life comes when he sees his brothers faces and souls all over again. Three in new bodies, and one in the same. A certain fish demon had pretended he didnt recognise him, and Wu returned the courtesy - seems he wasn't the only one from the old days to retire.

He wonders if it was the right decision to settle in Megapolis...

Until the day Pigsy knocks on Wu's shop, breathless and carrying a wiggly baby human (?). His food truck had given up the ghost and the cook desperately needed repairs asap! Wu simply couldn't turn him away.

Through the conversation and the repair process, the wiggly baby maybe-human had stared at the monkey demon with absolute wonder. Wu isn't sure why until he overhears the cub blabble something into his father's ear.

MK: "Mon-ken." Pigsy, fond sigh: "No MK, that's not the Monkey King. He just looks like the drawing in your Baba's book." Wu, nearly drops the truck on himself: "Eh?" Pigsy, little embarassed: "Oh! Sorry. The piglet is convinced that you're the Monkey King. My partner researches mythology and stuff, and he fills the kid's head with all sorts of ideas." Wu, rolls out from under the truck with a cheeky smile: "It's no problem. You'd be surprised how often I get mistaken for him! Think its the fur." (*Wu shares a glance at MK, the baby human is still staring at him unconvinced. Wukong makes a unsubtle shush motion and winks - causing the little human to wiggle once more with joy. Pigsy sighs fondly once more, knowing that the boy will most definitely hold this moment dear throughout his childhood*)

With that one chance meeting, Wukong breaks his number one rule; Never get attached.

It's not his fault he fixed the truck so good that Pigsy became a loyal customer! And the pig demon began tipping him with free cold vegetarian noodles. And that the scholar at the shop and him started info-dumping together! And that the little human began seeing him as a beloved uncle...

Oh yeah. Wu is in too deep. Hopefully nothing too chaotic happens within the next few years or so >:3

You can say a certain monkey demon nearly had a heart attack when he learned that someone had finally taken up his Staff - and that it was his little buddy!! Also Sandy is back in the gang, so they can't pretend that they dont know each other for long.

Wu would *like* to step up and reveal himself as the Monkey King to MK - but he feels that would just make things so much worse. The kid's trust in him would shatter immediately. So it's better to leave his projections on FFM to do the physical training, and for Uncle Wu to provide him with much-needed emotional guidance.

Sharing this dm you sent in particular based on the "Macaque" episode cus it's a tasty piece of dialogue:

MK: "Is it really better to focus your power into every attack?" Wu: "Hm, that's a lonely way of thinking. And dangerous. Look at this hammer I use for example, it's strong but if I'm not careful an just bang away at metal, it'd hit hard but it'd cause more damage to myself and the people around me. But if I were to... step into the swing so to speak and not depend on the hammer but rather my own strength, it's easier to control and has less risk of hurting myself."

He had been doing renovations on the wall to expand his business at the time, thus why he was banging at the wall with a hammer.

Eventually the episode ends with Macaque calling desperately out to the battlefield - almost begging for his king to reappear. The shadow monkey is so occupied in his despair and anger that MK manages to slip free and reclaim his power.

MK promptly bullies Macaque into actually mentoring him. Macaque chuckles at the nerve of this kid, and agrees - but only as a truce until Wukong returns. After that, Macaque expects a rematch.

Unironically loving this AU

#lmk grease monkey au #sun wukong #lmk mk #qi xiaotian #lmk pigsy #lmk aus #lmk #lego monkie kid

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epitaph-of-rebirth · 5 months ago

Text

Doing this post to explain what lots of people missed on the Cait x Maddie thing and are just angry and freaking out about the character and not understanding WHY and also show that they already broke up and will not be danger on act 3 (srly I really believe on this and feel like we all missed because is a small scene).

So here is a explanation on WHY, because I'm going crazy that you'll missed lots of things.

Some of the explanation that I'll put here we got from Amanda Overton itself (you know, one of the writers of the show) on the epi4 watchalong party (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bgpWJl1NuTE) the rest is showed on the episode 4 itself so here we go (Also SPOILERS FOR ACT2 here):

First, Amanda told us that the time skip from Act 1 to Act 2 is between 3 and 6 months, is not bigger than that like some you are saying. What is very helpful to know that Cait x Maddie affair also isn't happening for so long and we get this information from Ambessa herself when meeting them on Cait's office:

Caitlyn didn't rebound imediatly after the breakup, her thing with Maddie is recent, a few weeks at maximum or one or two night stands. Yes guys, you can stop being mad thinking that she fucking Maddie for months.

Also a important piece of information that again, Amanda shared, is Caitlyn's mentality about this relationship:

She is not after Maddie because she felt for another person, Caitlyn is struggling to live up to the ghost of Cassandra, she is trying to be the daughter she never was and this affect's even who she dates.

Amanda literally told that in Cait's mind she is thinking: "What if I dated someone my mom would approve of?"

Lot's of people think that Cassandra approved Vi because of the council scene but in Caitlyn's mind that's not the truth. Maddie is someone who would be approved, she is from piltover, probably has some family name and has a good job.

With all that, why a sex scene ? Well is very clear that Caitlyn is not able to be vulnerable anymore, the only one she let's under her wall's after her mom's death is Vi and it was already hinted that for Caitlyn's flirting with woman casually was a natural thing.

The only way for her to "date" someone without being able to be vulnerable, is by the thing she knows she can separate her feelings and don't need to be vulnerable to do it: sex. And we can in this case considerate that sex is also a way for her to cope with all like Vi does with alcohol.

Also even after having sex with Maddie, Cait clearly don't want the girl touching her and this is show not only by her expressions:

But also on the way both are dressed, Caitlyn's is untouched and clothed while Maddie is basically naked under her shirt and messy, giving a subtext of Cait being a top on this encounter so she can evade Maddie's touch.

And right after the scene we can see that Maddie herself KNOWS that Cait is evading her and not wanting to be touched, she KNOWS something is wrong and that Cait seems to not listen to her.

Other information that is given by Amanda, is that Ambessa is supposed to be the devil on Caitlyn's shoulder while Maddie is to make the position of a angel. The character exists to show that Caitlyn wasn't alone against Ambessa manipulation and make clear that she has some foot herself to be able to see what is right and wrong and later realize her wrong doings and fix that.

And now comes the part I feel like most people missed and are worried about in act3.

Maddie and Cait already ended their relationship, how I know? the statue scene:

Here we can see again Maddie looking up for Cait but Cait not acknowledging the girl existence until last minute when seems like Maddie told something.

Caitlyn's expression again is cold and then we can see Maddie's:

She is thinking and ready to cry and also show some hurt. She probably is ending things with Cait because the next time we see Cait. Is from Maddies eyes, something that fortiche does a lot and did on that very famous CaitVi bed scene. And this time is done again but we are looking at Caitlyn from Maddie's eyes:

The upper and low corner's are blurry, as if Maddie is almost crying. Also we can see Cait looking the ground and thinking on the next frames, as if reacting to something said to her.

And here is their breakup.

Yes is not a spoken scene, but considering how small her relationship is to Caitlyn, makes sense for things to end and Cait not really give much thought about it.

After that we NEVER see Maddie anymore, she is not on the side of Caitlyn for the rest of the act, and also Cait is always using her Commander cape after this scene, what makes clear: She is totally on the side of Ambessa, the devil won and the angel left.

And this cape is another thing that is used to reflect Caitlyn's mental state and choices, because we only see her back to her uniform without the cape, when she decided to ally with Vi by the end of the Act 2

I understand people who got annoyed by having "another one" in the middle of CaitVi ship and yes I know everybody worry about this making messy their reunion, but I feel like most people forgot that in Arcane, and on this season mainly, lots of things are being show by the art and animation and not by text, like the statue one.

Srly guys CaitVi will be alright, Maddie is not a horrible characters and this was not a bad choice to show Caitlyn mental state and character development. I understand being bitter with the angst but also let ourselves enjoy it a little.

#caitlyn kiramman #arcane #caitvi #arcane spoilers #maddie nolan #please take attention to the details when watching the show I BEG YOU #english is not my first language so if you see any typos and grammars mistakes no you didnt

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otherone12 · 6 months ago

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HII ITS ME AGAIN !!!! OKAY SOOOO I had this idea right... how about a super fem super cute super "girl next door" reader x basement gee ?? :3 like the whole cheerleader x loser trope !!! I think that'd be like super cute !

Wait, Are You In A Band?!

Basement!Gerard Way x Reader

-> Masterlist

HEYYY!! WELCOME BACK!!! Sorry for took too long 😭 Hope u well <3!! Okayokay, I went too literal with the "cheerleader x loser" part, because I thought it was awesome make some "high school" plot, anyways, the fic turned really longer, with fluff and angst... hope u like it! <3 (If it turned out too different from what you imagined, let me know and I'll try to fix it :) )

PS: it's 2am in my time zone, so when I'm rested I'll revise the fic better.

Summary: After a late cheer practice, you was walking home, but you herd simomething comming from your neighbor's basement. Was he... singing? Maybe he wasn't just the weirdo kid at your school.

- Word Count: 6.400

- Warnings: None :)

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1st Person POV (reader)

Here I am, making my way to my home after hours practicing the next cheer performance. Exhausted and with my ponytail, I was almost at home, but something caught my attention, a loud song coming from one of the houses in my neighborhood. The sound wasn’t clear, but I followed it, letting go of how tired I was, walking to the house I thought the sound was coming. Surprisingly, I knew whose house was.

I knew that Gerard was my classmate since ever, he wasn’t much of a talking guy, nor did his style match with the rest of the people around here. I'm not gonna lie here, I always had a bit of curiosity about him. Not too long ago, I found out he lives three houses away from mine. Part of me wanted to ‘casually’ knock there to say ‘hi’.

At first I didn't recognize the voice, but when I approached his house I was sure that it was definitely his voice. Enchanted by the sound, I stepped the closest I could, paying attention to the song. Wasn’t just Gerard singing what seems to be an authorial song, but there's a bass, at least two guitars and drums.

Wasn’t perfect but it sounded incredible in my ears. Hypnotized by the song, I stayed there to the end of it… damn it was really good. Before I could even think, I started to hear some voices that I didn't recognize, except for Gerard’s.

- Yeah, let’s run through it one more time, - He said

- Sure! Maybe we can try the second solo we talked about. - Another voice replied

- Okay Okay, I'm gonna drink something before…

Realizing they’d catch me if I stayed any longer, I hurried back home, my mind still replaying every sound I’d just heard. I was so exhausted that I practically collapsed onto my bed, but even as I drifted off, his voice echoed in my mind.

The next morning, I couldn’t stop humming a part of the song I’d heard. It was catchy, and I kept thinking about how much I wanted to tell Gerard how incredible they sounded.

When lunchtime rolled around, I did what I normally did: sat with the other girls on the cheerleading team, surrounded by the usual crowd of football players. But today felt different. I kept glancing over to where Gerard always sat alone in the corner. His brother went to a different school, and he didn’t really have a group here. I wanted to change that, at least for a moment.

- Hey, where are you going? - one of my friends asked, confused as I got up.

- Don’t worry, I’ll be right back,- I replied, giving her a quick smile before making my way toward Gerard.

He was sitting on the floor, with his lunch next to him, while he flipped through a comic book, completely distracted. I stopped in front of him, and as soon as he noticed me, his gaze went up to my face.

- Hi! Can i sit? - I asked, hoping I didn’t startle him too much.

He took a few seconds to answer, his cheeks turned light red, and he avoided eye contact.

- Uh… s-sure - His tone was shy, but i could feel that he was a bit happy - but your uniform-

- I don't mind. - Smiling, I sat next to him, then explained. - I'll change into normal clothes after lunch anyway.

- If you say so… - a shy smile appeared on his face.

- So… Hey, I heard you singing last night.. - When these words left my mouth, what was a light blush turned into a bright red tone on his face. And his eyes wide -. I didn’t know you were in a band.

- Y-you heard?! - he exclaimed, shock evident in his expression, his eyes met mine.

- Yeah I was walking home and… well we’re neighbors… so… - I tried to explain, with a soft smile, trying not not to scare him off or something.

- Can you please not make fun of this? - He sighed, anguished - Like, yeah, sure, call me weirdo, ask for me to do your homework or else but… can you not mention this?

- Why should I make fun of it?! - Not gonna lie, i feel a bit sad for him thinking of me like this, but i almost yelled - You guys are fucking awesome!

- R-really? Do you think so? - He calmed down, but a bit suspicious - I didn’t know you were into this kind of music…

- I totally am! Do you guys perform anywhere? - I leaned closer, excitement bubbling up. - I would love to see a full show!

- Not yet… - Nervous, he stopped to think - But if you want, you can come over to my house to, y’know, watch us practice… we're going to rehearse tomorrow... if you want to stop by after your practice...

- I would love to! - My smile widened, feeling a rush of anticipation.

After our conversation, I felt a rush of excitement as I got up to head back to my friends. I cast one last glance at Gerard, who was now fiddling nervously with his comic book, his cheeks still slightly pink, but there was a smile in the corner of his lips.

As I approached the table where the cheer squad sat, they looked up, curiosity evident in their expressions.

- Hey, where were you? - my friend asked, raising an eyebrow. - Why were you talking to him?

There was a playful tone in her voice, as if she was implying that I was flirting with him.

- Yeah, what’s his name again? Gerald? - another friend chimed in, a hint of amusement in her tone. - He’s a bit weird, don’t you think?

I hesitated for a moment, considering how to respond. I didn’t want to let on that I had been intrigued by Gerard’s singing. My friends wouldn’t understand, not now, they’d just tease me about it.

- Oh, we were just discussing a class project,- I said, trying to sound casual. - You know how the teachers are always assigning those weird group projects? He has some great ideas.

They exchanged skeptical looks, and I could see they weren’t completely convinced.

- A class project? Really? - She smirked. - You’re not trying to tell me you’ve developed a sudden interest in the ‘weird kid’?

- Come on, he’s just a classmate, - I said, shrugging it off, a smile plastered on my face. - It’s not a big deal.

But inside, I felt a spark of excitement that I couldn’t quite hide. I had made a connection, and even if my friends didn’t get it, I knew I wanted to see Gerard again, especially to hear him sing.

- Yeah, sure. - She said mockingly, getting up - Let’s change our clothes and go back to class.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Gerard’s shy smile and the way his eyes had lit up when I told him he was amazing. That spark of excitement kept me awake longer than I’d like to admit, and by morning, I already had a plan.

The next day , I casually told the girls that I needed to leave school a bit early. But as soon as the words left my mouth, I noticed their expressions shift, mischievous smirks spreading across their faces.

- Oh, leaving early, huh? - She raised an eyebrow, leaning in. - I bet you have a date with your ‘class partner’... I mean, classmates.

- Really funny. - I rolled my eyes - It’s just… homework.

- Sure, I totally believe in it… - She mocked and I blushed - You know, if you’re into him, you can tell us! We won’t judge... much.

I laughed awkwardly, hoping no one noticed.

- C’mon I'm serious, and I gotta go. - I started to pack my things - don’t want to be late.

- Alright, fine. Go hang out with your little ‘project partner.’- Another of my friends said, laughing - Just don’t come back quoting comic books or whatever he’s into.

- See you guys tomorrow. - With a chuckle, I leave the court.

I made my way to Gerard’s house, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. Part of me was still amazed that I was doing this, showing up at the "weird kid’s" house after practically lying to my friends about it. But I couldn’t help it; I was curious, and I wanted to see him in his basement. I knocked on the door and waited, glancing around at the worn porch steps.

The door creaked open, and Gerard stood there, his eyes widening in surprise.

- Oh, hey… you actually came!

- Of course I did,- I replied, giving him a warm smile. - I didn’t say I would if I didn’t mean it.

- Uh, C-cool - His gaze on the floor, and he seems to be nervous - Come on in, then.

As I walked into the house, I heard a voice call out from down the hallway.

- Oh, my big brother brought his cheerleader girlfriend home! - Mikey’s head popped out from around the corner, a teasing grin on his face.

- Mikey, shut up! - Gerard’s face turned bright red, and he stammered, clearly embarrassed. - She’s not- w-we’re not-

- I’m just a fan - I said with a grin, hoping it’d take the pressure off him.

- Yeah, sure. Just a fan.- He raised an eyebrow at Gerard. - Well, the others are already in the basement. I’ll grab my bass and be right down.

I followed Gerard through the house, catching a glimpse of various band posters and comic books strewn around. He opened a door leading down into the basement, where I could already hear faint sounds of tuning guitars.

As we reached the bottom of the stairs, I spotted Ray and Frank, both of whom looked up in surprise when they saw me. Ray nudged Frank, and they exchanged a smirk.

- Well, well, looks like Gerard brought his cheerleader girlfriend to watch us practice,- Frank teased, waggling his eyebrows.

- Guys, come on… - Gerard groaned, his cheeks going red again. - She’s just here to watch. For the music… y’know…

- Yep, totally for the music! - I chuckled, trying to ease him - You guys were awesome the other night!

- Oh, she’s a fan - Frank said, giving me a wink. - So, we’ve got an audience now. Let’s make it worth it!

- Guess we can’t let Gerard’s cheerleader down. - Ray laughed while tuning the guitar.

Gerard shot them both a glare, but I could see he was smiling a little. We all settled in, and as the band began to play, I couldn’t help but feel like I was exactly where I was meant to be, watching Gerard and his friends create something that felt raw, real, and amazing.

As the guys settled into their instruments, I found myself a spot on an old armchair near the back of the basement. Gerard shot me a quick, nervous glance, as if making sure I was still okay with being there. I gave him an encouraging nod, hoping to ease some of his nerves.

As they played, I was really loving the music and the way each of them put their passion into the song. The lyrics were intense and Gerard's voice was mesmerizing. As the music played, my gaze wandered around the basement, looking at the absurd amount of comic books and CDs that filled several shelves (and the floor), as well as the posters on the walls. But soon my gaze turned to Gerard, and remained analyzing every detail of his performance.

all the mannerisms, the wrinkled sweatshirt, the slightly smudged eyeliner along with the dark circles, the pink lips and the long, messy hair. When the music ended, it took me a few seconds to regain my attention, which only came out of this trance when a voice interrupted my thoughts.

Suddenly, his voice broke through my thoughts.

- So… what did you think? - he asked, scratching the back of his neck, his eyes wide and hopeful. There was this nervous little shine in them that made my heart skip.

- It was amazing! - I said, grinning as I stood up, clapping a little too enthusiastically.

- Really? - He blinked, clearly surprised, and a tiny, bashful smirk crept up at the corner of his mouth.

- Yeah! - I stepped closer, feeling the excitement bubble up. - You guys are actually really good!

- Thanks! - Frank said, giving me a grin. - You should come every time we play!

- You think so? - I asked, hesitating a bit, not wanting to seem like I was intruding.

- Totally! - Mikey jumped in. - You’re a fan, right?

- Definitely! - I laughed, though I worried about my busy schedule. - I can’t promise every time, but I’ll come as much as I can.

Gerard’s face brightened, and for a moment, he looked at me with this big, relieved smile.

- I’d love that-I mean, we’d love that. I mean, it’d be cool to, uh, have you as, like, a regular… fan… - His voice trailed off, and I watched his cheeks turn pink as he realized what he’d said.

He fumbled with his words, his hands fidgeting as he tried to recover.

- I mean, just, it’s cool when you’re around, you know? Not just, like, ‘cause you’re… - He glanced down, clearly searching for words that just weren’t coming. - …It’s just… you’re really supportive, and that’s nice.

I couldn’t help but smile at how cute he was when he got flustered. It was like he didn’t know how to handle a simple compliment, and the more he tried, the more tangled up he got.

Ray chuckled, patting him on the shoulder.

- We get it, dude, - Ray said, smirking. - Breathe.

Gerard let out a shaky sigh, his gaze flicking back to me, the corners of his mouth curling up in a shy smile.

- Anyway, I gotta get going now, - I said, moving toward the door. - But hey, let me know when you’re practicing next?

- Definitely! - Gerard said, looking so relieved, like he’d just passed a test. - I’ll, um… yeah, I’ll let you know.

As I turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of him still staring at me with that hopeful look. It was endearing, the way he looked both thrilled and completely overwhelmed at the idea of me showing up again.

After watching them practice the night before, I couldn't stop thinking about it. So when lunchtime came around, I found myself making my way over to where Gerard was sitting, alone as usual, tucked away near the back wall. He looked up as I approached, his eyes widening slightly, as if he couldn’t believe I’d actually come over again.

- Y-you… really want to sit here? With me? - He stammered, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

- Of course! - I laughed, plopping down on the floor next to him. - My friends won’t stop talking about the last game… as if I wasn’t there!

- Yeah, I guess they’re pretty into that stuff - Gerard cracked a small smile, relaxing a bit as I settled in.

- Too much, if you ask me… - I chuckled - I’d rather talk about something more interesting… like last night. Seriously, you’re incredible! Your voice? Wow.

His cheeks turned pink, and he avoided eye contact with me, but I noticed the thin smile on his face.

- R-really? I mean, I was just, you know… messing around. It’s nothing special.

-Then I can’t imagine how good you’d be if you were actually trying! - I teased, nudging him lightly. He let out a small laugh, clearly embarrassed but pleased. Glancing down, I noticed the comic book he had open. - What are you reading?

He launched into a surprisingly passionate explanation about the storyline, his eyes lighting up as he talked. Our conversation continued, and with each sentence, I felt like he was slowly opening up, sharing little pieces of himself.

By the time the bell rang, I was surprised at how quickly the minutes had flown by. I stood to head to class, but before I could turn away, he took a deep breath, looking like he was gathering every ounce of courage he had.

- Hey, uh, would you… maybe want to come over? Like… after school? Just us, you know, as friends. We could, uh, watch a movie or something?

My heart skipped a beat, and I couldn’t hold back a grin.

- I’d like that. What movie are you thinking of?

- Whatever you like, - he replied quickly, looking relieved and a little flustered. - My mom has some romance ones lying around… or I’ve got horror if you’re into that?

- I’m not that into horror, but maybe we can watch two movies. You pick one, I’ll pick one…

- Perfect! - His blush deepened, but he nodded eagerly. - My place, after school. Just us.

As I went back to the class, I couldn't stop smiling at the thought of being at his house alone with him… At the start, my feelings about him weren't anything more than friendship, but the more time I spent with him, the more I liked him.

The afternoon was completely normal, but everything was drowned out by the idea that I would see him after school. When the last period finally ended, he was waiting for me at the classroom door, so that we could go to his house together. He was looking down, fiddling with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

- A-are you still up for-

- Absolutely! - I answered, flashing him a smile. We headed out of the school together, walking toward his house side by side. As we walked, I felt my heart thumping with a mix of excitement and nerves.

In his basement, which was still the same, maybe a bit more messy, he picked up the movie he chose, but before putting it on the DVD, he glanced at me with an insecure look.

- A-are you sure that you want to watch this? 'Cause… you know… it’s alright if you don’t…

- Nope, this is fine, - I sat on his bed, crossing my legs. - Thanks for inviting me, Gee.

The name slipped out so naturally that I barely noticed at first. But Gerard did. His face flushed immediately, his gaze snapping to me. For a moment, he was speechless, trying to process what he’d just heard.

- Did you just..? Y-You…called me ‘Gee’? - He stammered. The corner of his mouth lifted into a shy smile, and he quickly turned his head, trying to hide his reaction. But he couldn’t stop himself from peeking back at me with an even wider grin.

- Oh! I…hope you don’t mind - I said softly, noticing how happy he looked.

- N-no, it’s… it’s actually… - He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. - I like it.

He sat down next to me and hit play on the remote control, then the movie started. During the movie we exchanged a few glances, and I could feel the atmosphere in the room getting cozier and cozier. In between movies, we chatted a bit about something, but unfortunately the evening ended more quickly than I would have liked.

As I got up to leave, Gerard hesitated for a moment, fidgeting with the edge of his sweater.

- Uh… I could walk you home, you know… since we’re, uh… neighbors and all, - He mumbled, barely meeting her eyes.

- I’d love that.- I smiled warmly, touched by his offer.

We stepped out into the cool evening, walking side by side down the quiet street. Neither of us spoke much, but the silence felt comfortable, filled with the soft sounds of our footsteps. When we finally reached my driveway, I turned to him, pausing for a moment before speaking.

- Thanks for tonight, Gee,

Before he could respond, I wrapped my arms around him in a quick, warm hug. For a second, he froze, his arms awkwardly hovering in the air. But he quickly hugged her back, his face burning as he tried to process what was happening.

- Y-you’re… welcome, - He managed, his voice barely a whisper. He couldn’t stop smiling, even though it looked like his face might actually be on fire.

- Goodnight, Gee. - I said softly, giving him one last smile before turning toward the door.

- Goodnight… -His voice was quieter now, but I could hear the smile in it as he called back. I waved one last time before stepping inside and closing the door behind me.

Damn, maybe I really liked him.

The next morning, I found myself practically floating through the school halls. The memory of last night. The movie, the hug, Gerard's shy smile… kept replaying in my mind. I wasn’t sure what exactly was happening between us, but something about it felt different… and exciting.

But of course, as soon as I walked into the cafeteria, my friends were waiting for me. They practically pounced on me as I sat down, their eyes wide with curiosity.

- Where were you last night? - One of them asked, a teasing grin on her face. - You disappeared after school and didn’t even say goodbye

- Oh, I was just… watching movies with Gee. - I said, trying to play it cool.

The table went silent for a second before they all broke into laughter. She raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin playing on her lips.

- “Gee”?? Really? You’re already calling him “Gee”? Are we going to start planning the wedding soon, or what?

- We’re just friends, okay? It’s not a big deal - I rolled my eyes, trying to hide my blush.

- Yeah sure - She teased.

This teasing lasted the entire meal, but all I could think about was how, despite all this, it was worth every second of the night before.

Those little moments with him, like movie night, kept happening. Moments when he would tell me about the lyrics he was writing, the characters he was creating for the comics and the movies he was watching; I could listen to him talk for hours, because the more he talked, the more excited he seemed.

Whenever I could, I'd go down to his basement to listen to his band rehearsals, and every now and then he'd show up at my practices too.

1st Person POV (Gerard)

Well, another rehearsal with the guys was starting and I was kind of waiting for the “audience”, but it wasn't long before I got a message “Heyy, Gee! I won't be able to make it to rehearsal today. They booked a practice at the last minute, sorry :(”. sighed, feeling that odd, deflated disappointment wash over me. It was strange… I’d never really “needed” someone to be here before.

- Hey, Gerard. Is your girlfriend coming? - Mikey’s voice cut through my thoughts, and his tone, so serious, made me squirm.

- No... - I mumbled, switching off my phone. - And she's not my girlfriend.

- Uhum… - Mikey said with a smirk.

I got up to fix the speaker, while the others tuned their instruments.

- So, Gerard, - Frank began, his voice way too casual, and I already knew what was coming - you and your cheerleader girlfriend going to the big football games this weekend?

My hands went up to my face, which I felt burning.

- Or maybe you’ll take her to one of those fancy parties - My brother is always helping, of course. - You know, all those exclusive high school events she probably gets invited to?

I groaned, trying to ignore them, but I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. I didn’t know what to say.

- Oh, or maybe you’ll meet her parents soon - Deep inside I thought that Ray wouldn't keep this going. Well, I was wrong. - You know, ask them for permission to hold her hand!

This wasn’t funny. It felt like everything about me and her was getting dragged into some weird joke. The truth is, I wasn’t even sure what I was doing with her, but this wasn’t helping me figure it out.

While they were joking, it felt like they’d hit on something way too real. I wanted to be around her all the time. I wanted to be someone she could actually like. But hearing them mock it just made it feel… impossible.

- I’ve told you guys, We. Are. Not. Dating! - I said, trying to sound firm, but even to my ears, it sounded like I was trying to convince myself.

- Oh, sure, Gerard. We believe you. Totally. - Ray rolled his eyes. - But you want it, don’t you?

I froze. I could feel my heart racing as I tried to make sense of what he had just said. Did I want it? Was that what this was about? I mean, I liked being around her. I liked talking to her, calling her, texting her... But actually thinking about being with her in that way? The way Ray was implying? I couldn’t even picture it without feeling my stomach twist into knots.

- I- I don’t know, man, - I muttered, feeling more lost by the second. - Even if I did... It’s never gonna happen.

I looked down at my hands, trying to keep my voice steady, but it felt like I was talking to a crowd instead of just my bandmates.

- Do you think she would ever want to be seen with me? Like, really? - My voice cracked a little at the end, I felt like I was about to cry. But I couldn’t help it. I was confused. Terrified, even. - Do you think she’d want someone like me?

- Dude, we didn’t mean to-

- Can we change the subject, please? - I mumbled, blinking fast, feeling that awful sting in my eyes. I looked away, hoping they wouldn’t notice the tears building up.

The truth was, deep down, I thought I might like her. Really like her. But it felt like wanting something that was light-years out of reach. I don't belong in the world she's in, it's all so beautiful, all so fancy, all so tidy, all so put-together... and I'm so wrong, broken, weird... Why would she like me like that?

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was scared that this was all a setup, like some cruel joke where she’d suddenly laugh and say, “Just kidding!”, as if she's about to drop a bucket of blood on my head, like in Carry.

But as much as it terrified me, I wanted to keep going, to take it as far as I could… maybe hoping, just a little, that she’d see something in me worth keeping around...

1st Person POV (reader)

After days of building up the courage, I finally managed to catch Gerard in the hallway. He was walking to his locker, absorbed in a comic book as usual, his dark hair falling perfectly over his eyes. My heart was racing, but I couldn’t back out now. Prom was coming up, and I didn’t want to go with anyone else.

- Hey, Gee! - I said, trying to sound casual, but my voice came out a little too high-pitched.

- Hey! What’s up? - He looked up, smiling when he saw me.

- Um, actually… I was wondering… - I think it was the first time I avoided eye contact with him, scratching the back of my neck. - Would you maybe, I don’t know… want to go to prom with me?

I spoke a little faster than usual, and Gerard’s eyes widened like I’d just spoken in another language. He stood there, staring at me, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard.

- Wait-what?!

- Prom - I repeated, now feeling my own cheeks burning. - I know it’s not really your thing, but… I’d really love it if you went with me. We could go together, you know, as friends or… whatever you want it to be.

- You’re serious? - He asked, still staring at me in shock. - You… really want to go with me? Like… with me?

- Yeah, Gerard. - I nodded, giving him a small, nervous smile. - I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to. It wouldn’t be the same without you there.

- But… What about your friends? - He furrowed his eyebrows, with a concerned look on his eyes - Won’t they… won’t people think it’s weird? I mean, you’re… you know… you. And I’m…

I took a step closer to him, placing my hand on his shoulder, and giving him a thin grin.

- I don’t care what they think, Gerard. - He was looking in my eyes, I can't describe his expression… - I want to go with you. I’d be proud to be seen with you.

- You’re… serious? - His hazel eyes were glowing hopefully.

- Yes. - I nodded again, more certain than ever. - So, what do you say?

- I just… wow. - He panted and I shivered, afraid of him saying no - I really didn’t think you’d ever want… someone like me, at something like this.

- Well, I do. - my anxiety grew with every second he didn't answer - You mean a lot to me, Gee.

He finally smiled, shy and unsure but definitely a smile.

- Okay… okay, yeah. I’ll go with you.

- You will? - I grinned, feeling a surge of relief and excitement.

- Yeah,- he said, nodding as if he was trying to convince himself it was real. - I’d… I’d love to go with you.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, and the disbelief and wonder in his eyes made my heart swell. As I turned to head to my locker, I could feel his eyes on me, and I knew this prom would be something neither of us would ever forget.

1st Person POV (Gerard)

I couldn’t focus on anything else the whole day. My mind keeps replaying the sentence “Would you maybe, I don’t know… want to go to prom with me?” during all the classes. When it finally ended, I rushed to my house to meet the guys who were waiting for me to start our band practice. As soon as i steped int the room, i took a deep breath, and started:

- She… she asked me to prom, - I mumbled, scratching the back of my head, barely able to meet their eyes. - Like, she actually asked me.

The room went silent. Frank dropped his tuning fork, and Ray's eyebrows practically shot off his face.

- Holy shit! - Ray smiled - She really invited you?!

- Yeah, but… what if it’s a joke? - Suddenly, this thought came back to me, and I just couldn't hold it in. - I mean, what if she’s just playing some kind of cruel prank on me? Getting me to go so she can… I dunno… laugh at me with her friends or something?

- You’re being silly, dude… - MMikey said, shaking his head with a grin, trying to reassure me. - She really cares about you, I venture to say that she even likes you.

I shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at my worn-out sneakers.

- I just… I don’t know, man. I don’t want to look like an idiot showing up to prom, looking like… well, like me. - I gestured to my faded band shirt and old jeans. - She’s going to show up all… amazing, and I’ll just… I don’t even have clothes for something like that.

- Hey, don’t worry about your clothes. - Frank said, his hand on my shoulder - We’ll help you figure that part out. We can make a cool Gerard version of prom gear.

- I don’t know, guys… - I let out a doubtful sigh, but I couldn't help but feel a little better at their words. - I still feel like I’m walking into some kinda setup.

- Or… maybe it’s not. Maybe she actually likes you and wants to go with you. - Mikey shook his head.

- I guess… I mean, she did seem pretty genuine. But, man, I can’t mess this up.

When I stopped for a while to process everything, and realized that I was so nervous about the idea of her embarrassing me, I didn't realize that I could embarrass her if I did something wrong.

- We’re going to help you get ready for this prom, no question. - Frank keep encouraging me - This is your shot, and you’re gonna look so good, everyone’s gonna wonder why she got so lucky.

I couldn’t help but crack a shy smile, a tiny spark of hope flickering in my chest at his words. I appreciated how they were all backing me up. Still, the nerves didn’t fade. In fact, now I had to find something to wear... and I had no idea where to start.

But maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be a total disaster. Maybe, I thought as I looked at the guys with a nervous but hopeful grin, this might actually turn out to be the best night of my life.

1st Person POV (reader)

The night had finally arrived. My heart was thumping in my chest, and I could feel the butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach. The dress I had picked out earlier in the week felt a little too tight now, my nerves making everything feel more intense than usual. I couldn't help but glance at the clock, watching the minutes tick by as I waited for Gerard to arrive.

What was I thinking? Was I making a huge mistake? Would he feel out of place at prom? I shook my head, trying to silence my anxious thoughts. I had asked him because I wanted him there. I didn’t care about what everyone else would think, and if he felt out of place, well, I hoped my presence would help him feel comfortable.

Then, finally, the doorbell rang. My heart skipped a beat, and I rushed to open the door, only to freeze for a moment when I saw him standing there.

Gerard looked... different. He was wearing a simple black suit, not too formal but definitely better than what I had imagined. His hair was styled neatly, but it still had that messy, Gerard charm. He looked slightly nervous, his hands shoved in his pockets, but his eyes lit up when he saw me. The nervous smile he gave me made my heart melt a little.

- Hey,- He said softly, shifting awkwardly on his feet.

- Hey, - I replied, suddenly feeling shy too. - You look… you look great.

- I do? - His eyes widened in surprise.

- Yeah, you’re handsome - I nodded, fighting the blush creeping up my neck.

- Thanks... You look… wow. Really beautiful - He scratched the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes as if he was embarrassed by the compliment.

- Are you ready to go?

- Sure!

The ride to prom felt like a blur. We didn't talk much—both of us were too nervous, I think. When we finally arrived, my friends were already waiting near the entrance, their eyes scanning the crowd as they laughed and joked. As soon as they saw me with Gerard, they froze, their expressions shifting in surprise.

- Oh my God, look who finally decided to show up! - one of them teased. - I knew it! You like him, don’t you?

- You’ve been denying it this whole time, but now it’s so obvious - My face immediately turned bright red. I opened my mouth to protest, but she wasn’t finished.

- You’ve been denying it this whole time, but now it’s so obvious. - All of them kinda laughed.

Gerard was standing a little behind me, looking equally embarrassed, his face flushed. I could feel his discomfort radiating off him, and I could tell that these comments were making him more self-conscious. He shifted on his feet, nervously running a hand through his hair.

I held his hand so we could walk inside. But my moves were interrupted by my friends.

- You guys look cute together, though. Admit it, you like him! - another one of them chimed in, her voice teasing, but with a hint of sincerity.

Once inside, we quickly found our seats at a table. The music was blasting, the lights dimmed, and the air was filled with the sound of chatter, laughter, and the occasional loud cheer from some of the other students. I could feel Gerard stiffening beside me, but I just kept my hand on his, hoping to offer some kind of reassurance. He looked around nervously, his wide eyes scanning the room as though he didn’t belong.

- Are you okay - I asked, in an attempt to comfort him.

- I don’t know…- he mumbled, his voice barely audible over the music. - I mean, I’m glad I’m here with you, but this is… definitely not my scene. You’re the only one who could ever get me to come to a place like this.

I laughed, feeling my heart flutter. I didn’t think he realized just how much that meant to me. The night was already feeling more perfect than I could have ever imagined.

Then, as the slow songs started, the room filled with couples swaying gently to the music. Gerard and I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Finally, he broke the silence.

- I’ve never really done this before… - he said quietly.

- Me neither. - I smiled at him.

And just like that, the awkwardness faded. He pulled me closer, and we started swaying together. He was still a little nervous, but he held me close, and I could feel his warmth, his pulse beating along with mine.

As the song came to a close, Gerard looked down at me, his face flushed. He cleared his throat, trying to hold back his nervousness.

This… - He hesitated for a second, then smiled shyly - seems like the first time I watched Corpse Bride for the first time… Awesome.

I giggled, then, without saying a word, Gerard leaned down and kissed me. It was soft, gentle, messy, romantic… everything I had imagined and more. He pulled away slowly, his eyes wide with surprise, as if he couldn’t believe he had just done that.

We stood there, not caring about the world around us. It was just the two of us, caught in the moment, and in that instant, everything felt right.

- Thanks for making this the best night ever, - Gerard whispered, his forehead resting against mine.

- You're welcome - I whispered back.

Smiling, I move to his lips again. His warm lips felt just right, now his hand came up to my cheek, as I wrapped my arms around his neck. This kiss was more confident, like something we both were sure that we wanted. I swear, I've never thought I would end up with Gerard like this… but there is no other place that I would rather be.

___________________________________________

~ So, that's it! Let me know if u like it! (i'm not sure if i liked this one...)

Part 2!

#gerard way x reader #gerard way #mcr #my chemical romance #basement gerard way

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baronessvonglitter · 4 months ago

Text

Law of Attraction ~ Chapter 3

Rom Com AU divorce lawyer!Dave York x fem!Reader (featuring nightclub owner!Javier Pena)

Word count: 2,895

Summary: It's not a date. Just a lawyer and his client celebrating her divorce...

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! No smut in this chapter. Rom com vibes. AU. Reader wears a dress and nail polish. Mentions of eating food and drinking alcohol. Mutual pining AND mistaken for a couple 😊. Love bombing. Divorce. I'm just pretending I know what lawyers do and that divorces are quite speedy. Dave is multi-lingual because I say so. Also, hints that all is not well between Dave and Carol? (c'mon, when do we ever paint them as truly happy?)

Author's note: "You can't blame yourself for the choices you made when you were too young to know better." 💜

Series Masterlist

"What does the L stand for?"

Dave realizes you're asking him a question and he looks up from his file, a smile flitting across his face. "Pardon?"

It's the first time you've seen him since that fateful day at the museum. After catching up on your plans to divorce Javier and citing every reason why you desire to be forever parted from your husband, Dave had invited you to his high-rise office the following day, where you are now, sitting across from him at his desk.

"Your card says 'David L. York," you remind him, a pink-polished finger running over the smooth white business card.

"Liam," he says, a small blush creeping up his neck. You smile when you notice it, aware of how attractive he is when he blushes.

"David Liam York," you say to yourself, liking the roll of it off your tongue. "I like it. It suits you."

His head is down, perusing the paperwork before him, but he smiles at your compliment. "Wish I could say I'd chosen it myself."

It's quiet again as he goes over the fine print, and you wander over to the window of his office, smiling to see your bookstore/bakery right across the street. There's a rush today for cinnamon rolls with cream cheese frosting. You'd give anything to be there instead of here, making your divorce a reality.

For now you silently glance around, interested to catch glimpses of who Dave is. Framed art lines the walls-- abstract shapes painted in bold blues and greens-- far from the childishly geometrical shapes done in primary colors found in most offices, along with his diploma from Harvard, proudly displayed next to a photo of Dave with the mayor.

"I handled his third divorce," he says, and you realize you've been staring at his photo for too long. You shake yourself from your thoughts.

"Everything's in order," he continues, pushing the papers away at last. "All you have to do is sign and the process server will bring it to Mr. Pena and he'll be served immediately."

"Is the process server attractive?" you ask, only half-kidding. "My husband can't resist a beautiful woman, and he won't know what hit him once he's served."

Dave allows a little laugh at this. "Sienna is a very pretty young woman. I think your husband will have to pick his jaw up off the floor before he realizes his gorgeous wife is divorcing him."

The initial prick of jealousy over Sienna's looks makes way for a wave of emotion when Dave calls you gorgeous. He realizes he's overstepped and tries to fix it, but you brush it off.

"I'll keep in touch with you during this process, but I advise you to just try to take your mind off it. Do something you enjoy, hang out with people who care about you. And I strongly advise you to ignore Mr. Pena should he call or try to see you. From everything you've told me he sounds like a garden variety narcissist. What you're doing right now is the right thing," he assures you.

Right then it's on the tip of your tongue-- you're privy to a mere outline of the goings-on within Javier's club. While a large part of you just wants to get the proceedings over with, a deeper, baser instinct desires to make the bastard pay for his crimes. You're the only one with any insight as to the illegal activities.. at least, the only one willing to talk. And though it's not his money you're after, your need for justice wants his dark deeds to come to light.

Admittedly, you struggle with the idea once you actually open your mouth to tell Dave. It's there on the tip of your tongue, but a deep-seated loyalty bars the way for your words to exit. You hate that you can't be the type of petty everyone thinks you should be, but neither does the good citizen in you dare to show herself.

'My ex-husband is involved in illegal doings, please raid his place of business' just doesn't sit right with you.

"What is it?" Dave asks, sensing something is on your mind. The thoughtfulness of his gaze nearly makes you melt. His touch rests softly on your upper arm.

Everything previous thought buzzes through your brain on repeat, a mental coin flips but you don't let it land.

"It's just been a lot to deal with today," you explain tiredly, your hand resting on his on your arm. Dave's touch tenses slightly before taking it away. "This is all going to be worth it. You're doing the right thing," he reiterates.

You tell yourself that as you leave the office, your paperwork signed and ready to go. Of course you're doing the right thing. That's why you feel so shitty.

You can tell Javier's been served when a never-ending procession of gifts arrives at your home. You don't know how he got your new address, but the gesture of flower arrangements, stuffed animals, boxes of jewelry, and Shari's Berries (which you end up eating a few of just because they're delicious).

He doesn't bombard you with texts or calls, but leaves notes along with his gifts. His chicken-scratch handwriting barely legibly asking you to come back, to reconcile, to please stop the divorce process because you're breaking his heart.

If you were a weaker woman you would cave in easily, but you refuse to move the line you've drawn in the sand. You give away his gifts, make mini bouquets with the gorgeous flowers he sends and you give them away to your customers. The jewelry is the only stuff you give back, knowing its value is worth far more than the others.

Only when you're alone at night do you start to have second thoughts. The days keep you busy, revolving around your business, your family, the activities you never really got to enjoy while you were Javier's wife.

But when you curl up onto the left side of the bed as if awaiting someone else to fill the opposite side, and when you accidentally make enough food for two instead of just one, you realize being single is an adjustment, and it's taking you a little longer to get used to.

The mediation that follows is quicker than you'd expected. Neither of you want any of the other's business profits. Though Javier's club is more lucrative than your little bookstore/bakery, you take great pride in it being your own income.

Across the table in a small meeting room in Dave's law office, you are keenly aware of Javier's eyes on you, as if he's mentally willing you to look his way, to sway your opinion, to change your mind. What if he pulls some Jedi mind trick and gets you to rip up the papers and go back to him, rewind everything you've done and sit in a purgatory of your own making while he does whatever pleases him?

And damn it he looks good. His hair is neatly styled, forgoing the usual messy curls and longer sideburns. He looks like he could be the opposing counsel. And he knows it, the way he returns your glance, a dare within his dark gaze.

"So it's come to this," he says, fingers drumming on the table. You recognize that habit: he's dying for a cigarette. He's just as anxious about losing you as you are about losing him. And then you wonder if he's wondering if you've told on him, given the authorities the info that would grant a search warrant and risk putting his ass away for years.

It's quite a powerful thing to see him try to hide his relief when the meeting comes to an end and he realizes he's safe. Because of your mercy.

Next to you, Dave is a grounding presence, a gentle reassurance that you're doing the right thing for yourself, your sanity, and your broken heart.

Afterwards, even with the formalities out of the way Javier still has the gall to go to you, take your arm, try to bring you to a secluded corner near the elevator bank. Out of the corner of your eye you spot Dave, waiting, as if looking for a signal from you that you need him.

"You're really ending us, mi corazon?" Javier whispers, his lips close to your ear, his wisp of breath sending a little shock to your system.

"Javi, this was a long time coming," you extricate yourself from his grip.

"C'mon.. you can't forgive a one-time thing?"

"Are you an idiot or do you just have selective memory?" you huff. "That was far from the first time.. you were never faithful to me. And I deserve better."

"Baby," he grasps your arm once more as you try to leave. "I'm a shithead. I know, baby. But I need you. Only you can make me better."

You recognize his pleas from the notes he sent with the gifts. The man could never be faulted as a writer, but it's sad that he can't even learn new pickup lines.

"Oh Javi.." you cup his face and for a moment he looks hopeful. The woodsy scent of his aftershave lingers, reminding you of mornings you shared as a couple. "If I didn't make you better in all our time together then I must not be the miracle worker you think I am."

Walking away from him feels good, freeing. Dave is at your side as you step into the elevator, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, gesturing you in like the gentleman he is as you walk away from your very first love.

Dave has meetings the rest of the day, but he treats you to dinner at an Italian place he thinks you'll like, a celebration of putting the finishing touches on your divorce.

Valentina's is the kind of restaurant that has an old-fashioned feel. Red and white checkered tablecloths adorn the tabletop and Frank Sinatra songs play over the speakers. You and Dave are given a booth near the back, somewhat private with a good view of the rest of the place.

And there it is again, his hand resting on your lower back, the heat of him pressing through your black and white polka-dot dress.

"Are we celebrating something today?" the waiter asks in a thick accent. He's around your dad's age, pleasantly plump, attired in a crisp maitre'd outfit.

"No," you answer immediately. "Well.. yes."

"First date?" the man guesses, and you and Dave glance at each other, color rushing to your faces.

"No," he answers. "We're celebrating her divorce."

The maitre'd smirks. "She is divorced, and now you get to be with her, yes?"

The look on Dave's face and the particular shade of red that he blushes is going to stay on your mind for awhile. Especially when he speaks to the maitre'd in Italian, quick and musical in his low, soft voice.

"What did you tell him?" you ask with curiosity, leaning forward with your chin resting on your hand.

He pauses, obviously taking in the sight of you. "I told him your heart is broken and I'm doing the best I can to fix it." Another pause as he sips some water. "Because you're my client, of course."

That doesn't stop the waiter from coming back with a small vase of roses and baby's breath to decorate your table after he takes your order, presenting the wine Dave suggested with a flourish, pouring both your glasses with the ruby liquid.

"I'm guessing you didn't learn Italian in law school," you say slyly, taking a sip of wine.

"I like languages," he admits with a smile.

"You'll have to teach me some."

"I will," he nods. "If you keep me on retainer." A conniving little smirk curls the corners of his mouth upwards and for one insane moment you wonder how he would taste right now if you kissed him.

"How many women have you done?" you ask, then realize how wrong it came out. "I mean, how many female clients have you had?"

Despite your embarrassment, Dave answers honestly, without poking fun. "Women tend to hire female lawyers, and men tend to hire men. I guess it's about strength in numbers.. but to answer your question, not many. Why? Do you think you won't use me again?" he feigns a little worried look.

"Funny," you chuckle. "Do I get a discount if I've used your services before? Some kind of punch card? My fifth divorce is free?"

"The only way you'll have a fifth divorce is if you marry and divorce that idiot over and over."

"Of course," you play along. "But what if we're just like Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton?"

"At least they had the sense to only marry twice."

Dave leaves to take a business call and you're left alone for a moment. You catch snippets of the song playing over the general ambience. "Just One of Those Things" by Ella Fitzgerald plays, the lyrics drawing your attention: 'a trip to the moon on gossamer wings'. It somehow perfectly describes your marriage to Javier..

When your food comes your mouth can't help watering. Dave returns soon after, apologizing for leaving you so long, though it was only a few minutes.

A few tables away a man with his date gets down on one knee and proposes. When the woman says yes the restaurant bursts into applause. You and Dave clap, smiling politely at the happy couple. You wish you could feel the joy they feel. Instead, nostalgia washes over you in a sickening wave.

"Javier proposed to me at Olive Garden," you tell Dave, who's digging into his veal parmigiana. He raises his brow, shaking his head.

"There's nothing really wrong with Olive Garden."

"I had to talk him out of Buffalo Wild Wings first."

"Oh."

He only met the man a few moments back at the office, but he has a good idea of the man you thought you married. You were young and impressionable, he was suave and mysterious. There was nothing for you but to fall madly in what you thought was love.

"I don't like him," Dave says. "I didn't like him the minute he walked through the door."

Something about the way he says it warms you, not only because he's on your side, but because the damsel-in-distress part of you loves having a champion. "You have better judgment than I did all those years ago.."

He smiles tenderly. "You can't blame yourself for the choices you made when you were too young to know better."

"Well.. how do some people get it right the first time? Why did it work out with you and your wife, but not for me and Javier?"

Dave doesn't know how to answer at first, sipping the wine in the crystal glass before him. He glances down at his gold wedding band, wishing he could be blatantly honest with you and tell you he and Carol have their own issues and every day seems to feel like an uphill battle, but right now it's more important to him to give you faith.

"It wasn't always perfect. We've gone through our share of problems," he admits. "And I know you probably see me as someone in the business of tearing families apart. Which I do, most of the time," he adds with a grimace. "But I've also learned what not to do. When I go home at night after a long day of court appearances, mediations, mountains of paperwork, I'm just glad to be with my family. My work helps me appreciate them more."

You manage a small smile. If he can persist, so can you. And he's around such negativity all day. You have your books and your sweets and so you expect life to always be so simple. "I think I look for the good in people, even when it's not there. Either I'm stupid or simple."

"You're neither." His hand is on your forearm, a gesture of comfort. "One day you'll fall in love again and it'll be even better the second time around. Because it'll be the real thing," he adds.

There's something incredibly special about this moment, one of the few times you feel okay with going a little beyond the bounds of a client-attorney relationship. But the moment ends abruptly when the waiter sends a couple of violinists to serenade you during what is in no uncertain terms, not a date.

You'd like to believe Dave. You'd like to think you still possess an unfulfilled 'happily ever after' for yourself, locked away for just the right person. But you're alone in your home, with no one to greet you or ask how your day was. Admittedly, the world feels less warm now that you're apart, gone your separate ways, your transactional relationship over.

It's not just that. The whole world has changed, modified itself to grow away from you, leaving you like a plant in darkness. Love songs aren't about you anymore. You can't relate to their brightness, only mourn it.

Javier was the first person you ever fell in love with. You have no idea that the bigger challenge will not be falling out of love with him, but falling in love with yourself.

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